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Quinn Sari

"Death is becoming of us all."

0 · 357 views · located in Isallia

a character in “Falsum Duomum”, as played by Siryn

Description

Name : Quinn Sari

Age : 17

Gender : Male

Role : Flawed

Appearance : Image

Quinn stands at a solid 5 feet 10 inches. He has piercing pale green eyes that seem to glow an unnatural yellowish color at times. Black leather covers him from head to foot, the only protection his well built body has. Huge black wings sprout from his shoulder blades and are large enough to wrap around his self as a kind of cocoon whenever he needs/wants. Covering a large portion of his right side is silver metal that is almost liquid like, but is entirely apart of his body. A small portion of this liquid like metal is also under his left eye.

Personality : Quinn is far from friendly. He is cold and deadly, considered heartless and intimidating. He will not hesitate to kill anyone he deems to die. Fighting is his life and he's known nothing else, so it's no wonder that he isn't looking for companionship or any friends. He's not a protector and will leave someone to die if they are too wounded to care for themselves.

He dislikes anyone who attempts to help him in anything. Quinn doesn't ask for assistance, nor does he need it. He's more likely to kill the one who helped him along with anyone else who is his target at that moment. Quinn has a deep hatred for Royalty and for Scientists. The Scientists because he was tested on, his mutation being that of the silver liquid on his body. It is also the source of his power. Royalty because they pit the Flawed against one another for no honorable reason.

Quinn, though heartless, cold and ruthless just about all the time, does have honor, though he's slowly forgetting exactly what that was and what 'honor' means. He's lost many of his morals and other ideals since becoming a fighter for one of the Royalty.

Equipment : Quinn's equipment in battle is his own body. The silver liquid on his side is where his power originates. The mutation gives him the ability to manipulate the feathers of his wings. He can sharpen them into deadly points and shoot them in a barrage at his enemy. From there he'll be able to create full on weaponry with his wings feathers, melding them together with the silver substance across his side to give it solid shape and sturdiness. His ability will stop growing once he's mastered the mutation of a long sword.

The silver liquid is his power, but it is also a poison to him. With each use of his mutation, the silver liquid spreads to cover more of his body. It spreads slowly and is very taxing on his strength and so he cannot keep shooting feathers for long periods of time, nor will he be able to keep the form of weapons for very long either. Once he lets go of the mutation's power and returns the silver liquid to it's original state (along with his feathers) the mutation will slowly recede, but it won't recede completely. As it spreads, the longer he keeps the mutation going, the deeper the silver liquid soaks into the new areas it's spread too and will stay. This takes much longer than the silver spreading on the surface.

When he's not using his mutation in a fight, Quinn rely's on his knowledge of hand to hand combat. He can fight very well with a long knife or sword, but as he does not usually carry one on his person, he relies on his lithe body and strength. His wings can carry him some distance into the air (he can't fly very high, nor for very long either. He could, however, scale a wall if need be. It would be a mixture of kicking off the wall and using his wings to push himself up higher till he could reach the top and pull himself over it, a running start helps too), helping for his defensive when dodging and heightens his speed when on the ground. His legs are more powerful than his arms, so Quinn utilizes lots of kicks in his fighting style.

The silver liquid on his body is also a big weakness for him. If the metal were to be struck in battle he would be unable to use the mutation to alter his wings feathers. It would cripple his right side as well and he would be reduced to defensive maneuvers for a time until he recovered from the blow. With that in mind, he's always protecting his right side, thus making it difficult to hit there.

History : Quinn doesn't remember much before he was infected with the mutation and considered a 'Flawed'. All he remembers after waking was a lot of pain and confusion. There had been fire as well. Other than that, it was always Scientists labs, tests and drugs, blood drawings and more tests. None of which were pleasant. His abilities were tested, how much could he withstand before collapsing? How much power could he output? How good of a fighter was he? What exactly was his mutation? All those questions were asked and put to the test.

When he wasn't being probed, or put through hell, he was in a small room with a single metal bed and a hard mattress. The room was always cold, that he remembered well. There was no heat there. The air was stale and smelt of chemicals and blood. He grew colder each day, the hatred building in his heart and soul.

Quinn remembered clearly when he was released from the clutches of the Scientists and found himself in the hands of another evil. A royal had bought him, taking him from tests and probing men in white coats, to an even darker scene. He trained with other Flawed, many of which fell under his brutality. At first he did not wish to kill those that shared his fate, however, the Royal who had bought him would punish him for such 'insolence' and he found himself in greater pain than he'd been in with the Scientists.

All sense of feeling left him as he trained to be a fighter in the arena. Quinn tried desperately to hold onto whatever humanity he had left, but as time went on he found it was no longer worth anything to him and is now the cold killer. He doesn't believe in being 'saved' and has succeeded with the reality that he is either going to die in the Battle Royal, or come out on top.

So begins...

Quinn Sari's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Quinn Sari
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#, as written by Siryn
The dirt of the arena kicked up as he moved around the three opponents that were trying to kill him. It was his second fight since the start of the Battle Royal. Quinn's large black wings snapped open and his backwards advance was halted. The air around him grew dense as he pulled on the power of his mutation. He could feel the silver starting to spread across his body and sink deeper into his flesh. It was a most unpleasant feeling and he bit back the wince of discomfort.

The black feathers of his wings detached and sharpened, using bits of the silver liquid like metal to keep them solid. A single thought and a flick of his wrist sent the deadly projectiles into his opponents. Only one fell from the attack, rushing forwards as if he could kill Quinn in a single blow. The Flawed's body crumpled to the ground with a thirty or so feathers protruding from his body. Quickly, Quinn released his hold on the mutation and breathed a bit easier as the silver receded back to it's original state, well almost. He would worry about how far it's spread later.

Turning he faced one of the machines that was after him. A scientific creation meant to kill him should he win the fight against the Flawed. At least, that had been what he'd been told. A sharp pump of his wings threw him forward and he whirled his body into a series of round-house kicks that knocked the steam bot steadily backwards. He wasn't ready to use more of his mutation just yet, but if he could disable the bot for the time being, he could concentrate on the second Flawed that was currently trying to flank him. Three more kicks into the same area did what he wanted, the metal dented in such a way that it buckled and the bot tilted over in an awkward position.

Quinn wasted no time and whirled around to face the Flawed that came at him from behind. His leg came up and hit the man square in the chest. What should have knocked the large opponent backwards, did nothing and Quinn found himself in a tight situation. The bestial looking Flawed grinned at him as he wrapped a large arm around Quinn's lithe leg and hauled him upwards into the air. The man whirled around in a circle several times, almost making Quinn dizzy, before releasing him. As he sailed through the air, Quinn tried to re-orient himself so that he could catch himself before he hit something.

Twisting his body was harder to do than he thought in mid air. A slight adjustment to his wings and he finally managed to get where he needed to be just seconds before he collided with the metal wall of the arena. Both limbs snapped outwards and pumped once to stop his body from crashing into it and breaking both his legs as he landed on it. The moment his boots touched the metal wall he shoved off and his wings pumped several times to give him speed.

He barreled right into the large Flawed, wrapping his arms as best he could around the man and tried to take him down. Of course, that didn't work either. The larger opponent gripped Quinn tightly around his waist and picked him up easily once again. Turning, the Flawed threw Quinn down into the dirt, hard. His mouth opened as he coughed and a spray of crimson streaked with silver flew from his lips. For a moment, the arena darkened and the looming face of the grinning Flawed that stood over him faded out of focus. When he regained his consciousness once more, the man hadn't moved much but to prepare himself for the final blow against Quinn's prone body.

His eyes narrowed as he glared up at the man who thought he had cornered Quinn. His wings stretched beneath him and he pulled his hand up over his chest. Once again the air grew dense, shimmering almost as if he were calling magic from thin air. The mutation of silver liquid swirled and started to spread again giving him much discomfort. As the Flawed leered closer, the feathers of his wings erected and sharpened into deadly points. Quinn flicked his wrist and the projectiles bombarded the man. His opponents eyes widened in shock and he looked down at his bare, tanned chest. Blood poured from the many holes that the feathers had created. Slowly the Flawed fell over away from Quinn who pulled his legs up to his chest and flipped back up to his feet.

His eyes glared at that the steam bot that was seemingly just about to recover. Without letting go of his mutation's power, he sent another barrage of feathers to finish the troublesome thing. Sparks and steam exploded from the machine as his feathers penetrated the metal. With that finished, his cold eyes lifted to the audience who had watched the entire exchange. He glowered at them all, hatred for their 'game' growing even more. Quinn turned and stalked off the battlefield and back into the darkness of his new cage. Three of the steam bots met him there and surrounded him, leading him back to the waiting area for other Flawed.

He ignored most everyone that he passed, frowning the entire time. As he entered the waiting area, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the new bruises and pain that he was starting to feel. His chest burned the most, being thrown into the ground was not at all pleasant. Without warning he coughed harshly and brought up his gloved hand to try to quiet it. Blood flecked his lips and glove, some silver, some red.

With a soft growl he wiped the thick liquid onto his leather jeans and crossed his arms over his chest. After a few minutes, he finally wrapped his enormous wings around himself entirely, trying to shut out the noise around him and the presence of others.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Taran Mortair Character Portrait: Quinn Sari
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#, as written by Siryn
“Greetings, I am called Taran. I look forward to getting to know each of you. If I may ask, what are your names?”

The voice startled his revere as he stood leaned against the wall as far away from the other combatants as possible. Quinn had wrapped his wings around himself to further exclude his presence from the others. He was in no mood to talk to anyone and didn't wish to be approached either. The sound of the voice had caught his attention though, and Quinn opened his eyes to see his black feathers fanning out across his body.

With a soft sigh he rolled his shoulders and readjusted his body against the wall. The wings fluttered as well as they moved and resettled with him. Silence stretched and the silence gnawed at him. Why didn't anyone answer? Did they not wish to? Well, that was fine by him. Quinn tried to get back to the darkness he'd created around his body and mind, a place with no feeling and certainly no pesky people prying for attention.

However, that didn't seem to be the case and he sighed in frustration. For whatever reason, he was a bit curious to see who had addressed the group and also to see why no one had spoken up to the question. So he dropped the wings down, letting their girth stretch outwards before folding them back behind his shoulders. Even then, the enormous extensions of feathers rose up over his head and stretched out further than his shoulders, making him look larger than his actual body was.

The man that stood before him was about his height, with brown hair and eyes. His clothes were loose and a different style than anything Quinn had ever seen. He wondered idly how the man fought with such loose clothing, while Quinn's own attire was much tighter across his lean body. Of course, the less drag on his body the faster he was. Maybe it was a preference, or maybe it had something to do with how the man fought.

Quinn folded his arms across his chest and glanced out into the crowded room. There were quite a few there, more than he'd expected to make it to the final rounds. He figured at least half of them would die within the next twenty four hours, so he didn't pay them all that much attention. Getting attached only made things worse.

"Why get to know us?" Quinn asked suddenly, his voice cold and hard as steel, "We're all going to die anyway. What's the point?" He scoffed at the man's attempt to form friendships that were sure to end in tragedy. Quinn wasn't there for friends, nor alliances or anything else. He was there for one purpose. Survive and prove to the Royal's that they had chosen the wrong man to throw to the dogs.

After that, Quinn would continue to win, and continue to live just to spite them all. Freedom was never going to come, and so he figured he was going to live a long life of nothing but fighting. He was prepared for that after all. He'd even prepared himself for death. If he died in these final rounds, well, so be it. It was meant to be and that was all there was to it. That didn't mean, however, that he wasn't going to put up a damned good fight.

Quinn narrowed his eyes at the man who called himself Taran. What was the point? How delusional was this man? Quinn scoffed between his teeth, tch, and turned his gaze away as he leaned back against the wall. He'd decided that he really didn't care about the answer given to him. It was pointless anyway, any kind of hope that man had would surely be crushed soon enough. Quinn was sure Taran wouldn't live to see another fight passed the next one.

He snapped open his wings in irritation and folded them around himself once more. Back in his darkness, he seethed. How irritating it all was. Pointless. Vain. Ignorant. Fools. All of them. Fools.

The setting changes from Isallia to Resdreillhm Palace

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Taran Mortair Character Portrait: Orfhlaith Character Portrait: Quinn Sari Character Portrait: Rakka Sukai
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#, as written by Igari
Eiurin

It had been terribly unpleasant for the woman, for that stupid, stupid red pixie slut fairy refused to leave the vicinity of her cell. Being snappy didn't seem to be the proper approach with this red-haired vixen, so instead, she had opted for ignoring the consort. Oh sure, little miss pain-in-my-ass had forced her presence anyway for a time, bantering on and on about choosing right and altering paths to make sure stuff panned out right. Eiurin had never been one for the cryptic bullshit and pretty much had tuned out the entirety of the statements in favor of a mental image of the girl dying slowly whilst being impaled in a bed of spikes. That was a nice image, yes, she could work with that. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, the metal flawed refused to comment and eventually, the other had finally left. Gods above, that was annoying. It didn't seem as if she could catch a break, however, as it was merely moments after, right when she had been about to curl up on her bed that there was a loud knock at the door. Oh, what the bloody fuck...

"Get on your feet, freak. We're moving you to the waiting quarters." Ah, it was one of those retarded guards who thought he could order her around. How utterly amusing. She'd comply, she was good at playing. And wasn't that all she had been doing for the small princess anyway? She'd been putting up with all this abuse and topsy turvy society just for the sake of the desires of a whelpling who had no concept of the world outside of her own. But Eiurin did. She knew the world out there. It wasn't a sanctuary, the princess was wrong. But it was too late to change things and she had agreed to this doomed plan anyway. A plan she had promised to force success upon. She was a fool.

She clenched her fist, stepping up from her bed and adjusting her features. She would not show this uncertainty to anyone else--she had a reputation to uphold after all. So she tilted her chin up, walking over to the door just as the guard opened it. There were two steambots in the hallway, her escorts, she could presume. Eiurin put her hands behind her head, for all intents and purposes, she had never had those negative thoughts to begin with. She lowered her lashes slightly as she huffed out.

"Well, I don't have all day--seriously, you're leading me to my lovely darling death." She let out a scoff at her words, golden orbs moving between the steambots seamlessly. There was no response, the bots just turning as she wandered out, hovering on either side of her. Most likely to prevent her from making an escape, if any--how endearing, as if she'd really try to run anyway. They led her to a different elevator than the one she had taken up to the arena, shoving her in somewhat roughly. Eiurin glared at the machines with as much malice as she could put into her glare, a feat she had gotten quite good at. The bots hesitated for a few seconds before inserting an odd-shaped jagged key into the pad on the wall. The elevator whirred to life and she sighed as it brought her up several flights, making a creaking noise the whole way up. These devices really needed to be quieter. It was grating on her faint headache.

The platform came to a halt, the woman stepping off of it with a frown. There were other flawed here, the ones she had spied on that had also fought in the previous matches. She didn't want to bother moving near them though, choosing to recline on the floor nearest to the exit. Her antisocial mentality wasn't shared, apparently, by all of the occupants of the area for one spoke up, his voice smooth and warm. An odd combo and one she instantly disliked for it was so out of place. Hmph.

“Greetings, I am called Taran. I look forward to getting to know each of you. If I may ask, what are your names?” There was a silence that settled about--oh hey, that priestess girl had made it. The girl was pale as death and leaning against a far corner. Eiurin took the opportunity to gaze around the room at the others to get a better look at them, at least--she wasn't sure how long she'd be stuck with these idjits but if the plan was successful, it was be a pretty, shitty long time. The one that had spoken up had a calm visage about him, ugh, absolutely infuriating. She took her eyes off him immediately, turning her gaze to the winged boy who looked just as irritated as she. It was he that spoke some sense, his voice chilled and distant.

"Why get to know us? We're all going to die anyway. What's the point?" Her thoughts exactly. Minus the dying. Eiurin didn't entertain that thought with a great amount of pleasure. She yawned, taking the tips of one of her metal wings and running her fingers along it carefully.

"What an absolutely splendid point of view." She said with sarcasm layering her voice in nearly suffocating amounts. "Since we are so obviously going to die, we might as well decide who is going to double-team up together to kill the others. And in case you were unclear on it, I am totally snagging dibs on the winged asshole. He looks like tons of bloody fun." She was careful to drown out the question of names with her own natural brand of snarkiness. Though personally she didn't understand it, Liandre had been very firm about Eiurin keeping her name a secret. She could abide by that desire, at least. Introductions would do little anyway--if that stupid slut's words had been any indication, the elimination match would be coming sooner than they had expected. And she would have to be ready.

The setting changes from Resdreillhm Palace to Isallia

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Quinn Sari
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#, as written by Siryn
"What an absolutely splendid point of view. Since we are so obviously going to die, we might as well decide who is going to double-team up together to kill the others. And in case you were unclear on it, I am totally snagging dibs on the winged asshole. He looks like tons of bloody fun."

His cold yellow gaze shifted slowly to pierce the girl who was seated on the floor against the wall. Her body was half metalic, and large metal wings extended out behind her. She looked like a good fighter herself, of course if she were in that room he assumed she must have been. They were all penned up in that cage for one reason only. The final matches were coming up and they were going to be the bloodiest.

"Che," Quinn made the harsh sound between his teeth as he narrowed his eyes at her, "I hope you mean in fighting me. I'll kill you if you try to work with me," he spat back, his richly deep voice nothing more than a growl.

If she had any response, it was drowned out by a suddenly loud noise. Above, the earth split opened and sand fell down into the cage they were in. The sounds of steam filling pipes emerged from all sides. Shuddering wracked the entire metal pen and slowly the contraption began to rise up into the air. Quinn didn't move from his spot, though his body had shifted slightly to compensate from the motion. His wings flicked outwards to steady his body, but that was about it as his arms were still crossed over his chest and one leg was up against the wall and the other stretched out before him. The only area he could see out was the door near where the girl sat, a single window to peer through. Then the sides of the room where there were slats of metal bars, the rest of it was solid steel around them.

Slowly the contraption stopped and the shaking gave one last large shudder before coming to a stop. At this point, they were now out in the view of everyone up in the stands of the coliseum. The noise was almost deafening and he rolled his eyes, irritation plain on his face. These 'games' were pointless, shedding needless blood. His fingers tightened unconsciously on both arms.

"Citizens of Isallia, we now move into the Elimination Matches! Do not forget, there can only be one winner..."

The pen that had risen in the center of the arena was filled with Flawed, himself included. Quinn glanced around, his sharp eyes taking in everything. The moment the pen opened, he snapped open his wings and skirted off to the sides of the arena, careful to avoid the barrier that lined it. He glowered at the blue glowing energy field, a twitch in his wings showing is distaste for their underhanded approach to the final battle. It would prevent him from using the wall as a means of propelling himself should he get thrown. Of course, that meant that he couldn't allow himself to be thrown either.

Quinn moved quickly, taking the time to pick his target. There was a hard lump in his throat as he let his wings move him. He glided over the dirt, barely touching it with his boots as he skidded around, keeping out of reach of anyone. Of course no one looked at him just yet, maybe they thought he would be easiest to take down. Already many of the Flawed were engaged in a fight with one another. Gods... he hated what he saw before him so much. However, there was little he could do to change it. It was fight and live, or stand around and die.

With that in mind, Quinn locked onto his first target. The little girl was smaller than most of them there, and though he hated to admit it, she was probably the easiest to kill first. It took him only a second to put up his resolve. He tightened his jaw and his eyes narrowed, colder than they were before. Focusing his mutation, he altered the silver liquid in his body and it stretched. His feathers erected and he sent a barrage of them right at the unsuspecting girl. Maybe she'd heard the sound of the sharpened feathers as they made a soft whistle, or maybe she just felt in danger. Whatever the case was, she turned and her bright purple eyes were wide with shock and fear.

The feathers did not halt in their advance, however, and continued onwards, straight through her. Quinn knew that he would be seeing that tortured face for some nights to come. It was something that he'd grown used to. Many sleepless nights were akin to this life he found himself in. Quinn didn't allow himself to stay in one spot and moved quickly. Apparently that attack had gotten someone else's attention and they were determined to kill him.

Had he interrupted an alliance? Fools. Why did they even think that making an alliance was the best shot at this? You would only have to turn on your 'friend'. There was no point. His wings pumped hard and he circled the man who lunged at him. The Flawed was heavily armed, but that was just his build to begin with. Monstrous was more like it. Metal knives protruded from his body at all angles, bony spikes lined his bald head and went down his back that followed a large muscular tail.

Quinn let go of his mutation, the silver retracting slightly across his body and giving him some measure of discomfort. He wasn't going to waste such precious power, or life, on someone like that before him. His wings arched back, flinging outwards and up. His feet dropped onto the ground from the light scrapping they'd been doing before hand. Quinn dropped back into his fighting style, one that allowed him to offer up powerful kicks.

The Flawed took this as a sign that Quinn had just opened up an opportunity for him to kill Quinn. Rather, it was the other way around. As the bulky mass of spikes and knives rushed the smaller, more nimble winged boy, Quinn flipped his body around. His leg came up and kicked hard, right into the Flawed's face. His opponent was startled at what just happened, and because of this, Quinn gained the upper hand very quickly.

In three more kicks, he'd knocked the man down to the ground. The Flawed lying before him wasn't dead yet, but Quinn wasn't going to just leave him there either just because he was unconscious. With a hard flap of his wings, he jumped up into the air and using his body weight, coupled with a backward flap of his wings, he fell down onto the back of the man's neck with his boots. There was a snap, and that alone told Quinn that the man was no longer among the living. Turning, Quinn opened up his wings once more and started looking for his next opponent.

The setting changes from Isallia to Resdreillhm Palace

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Liandre Florenia Ignivicarian VI Character Portrait: Gargarin Sklave der Lüge Character Portrait: Vier T'sker Character Portrait: Quinn Sari
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#, as written by Igari


Image




Eiurin was half-tempted to flip off this (cool) asshole as he back-talked her, moving past her towards the entrance of the holding room. He seriously needed to learn some ma... psh, screw that, her manners were not even worth noting in the slightest. She stared at him, a snarky reply ready on the tip of her tongue when she was drowned out by metallic clicking.

She tensed a bit, shivering a little in anticipation of what was to come. Liandre had gone over this part of the plan with her many times--too many times that it had come to annoy her greatly to reflect on it. She was going to have to bide her time--hold her own in the coming battle. Whle several or so minutes may seem like nothing to the little princess, that was quite awhile inside of the arena. Not that she doubted her own skill--she was pretty badass herself.

Eiurin cracked her knuckles, flicking a bit of hair out of her eyes as she straightened, getting up off of the bench she had been reclining on. The whirring came to a halt, the bars over the entrance to the arena slowly raising. If any of them had thought about possibly hanging back, spikes jutted out of the wall behind them. She narrowed her eyes, noticing that the wall was steadily inching closer to them--making escape a moot point. Not that she was about to back down from this challenge--she wasn't a coward. She walked into the large, open space set up for the elimination round, her chin held high and lips set in a thin line. She shot a look up into the stands, instantly able to spot the royal prissy pants out due to her blue hair. That was such an obnoxious color, seriously.

The booming voice of the cocky king reached her ears but she did not pay much attention. Already, she had noticed the high volume of misshapen flawed about the arena--but there was one missing... She scanned the area--nope, it wasn't here. The flawed that belonged to the king had apparently not been released yet. A yell from over her shoulder came from a golem-like being who charged at her, arm contorted into a sort of spear. She smirked and bent her knees, waiting until it was nearly upon her before jumping atop the weapon. It went to fend her off, swiping its arm in an upwards arc to get her off of it. She used the momentum to make herself temporarily airborne, diving at its fast as her smirk grew. Her hands were already claws as she penetrated its eyes, screams from the creature soon following.

She pushed off of it, slicing down its torso on her descent to the ground. The flawed tumbled onto its back behind her, already dead before it had completely fallen. Her attention was already shifted to the flawed that had grouped together--she had been correct when she had casually stated that some would be teaming up to kill the others. She did not let this deter her, running at the group and then shifting her weight so that she slid on the ground. The friction from the movement burned her exposed skin a bit but she paid it little heed, spreading out her wings so that they sliced the legs of the flawed as she slid by. She got up, breath hitching a bit as she did so. Her eyes traveled up to the stands again where the princess watched from, face pale and lips pursed in worry.

Stupid girl better be doing what she was supposed to be--she hated wasting her time.



Image




The small, blue-haired girl found herself almost paralyzed as she watched the brutality, eyes widening as she took in every moment. It was just so horrible to even look at--how she the king possibly get enjoyment out of watching sheer murder? And why were the people in the stands cheering? She fought back a near sob of fright as she thought Eiurin was about to get hit, but the flawed girl was quick on the uptake and sliced her opponent in no time. Liandre breathed out in relief but this feeling did not last for long--she had to get to moving. If her estimations were correct, this match wouldn't take nearly as long as it usually did. The champions that were surviving so far were quite powerful. In some respects, this was a very good thing but it made her current task at hand difficult.

The girl looked over at the other occupants of the stands, the odd red eyes of the king's.... adviser... staring her down as she got up. She felt uncomfortable with that kind of intensity upon her and immediately shifted her gaze downwards to the floor. As she went to move towards the door, a cool voice caused her to come up to a halt.

"And where are you headed in the middle of all the activity, Liandre?" The king called out to her, not moving an inch from his seat. His eyes were disgustingly fixated on the match, taking in every detail, yet somehow he managed to spot her out despite her efforts to stay under the radar. However, the princess had her current pale complexion on her side and she made a bit of a show of making heaving gestures and holding her stomach.

"A-Ah... I'm unused to the sight of blood, Your Majesty." It wasn't a lie, she really wasn't used to it at all. "It has made me a bit queasy and I just need some... fresh air." She ended a little hesitantly--considering they were outside, he may not take to her words all that well. Some silence passed between them, the girl rooted to the spot and not daring to move. The king cleared his throat, waving his hand dismissively at her.

"Do return with haste, my dear, you will miss the best part." She did not like the way his voice dipped when he said the word "best", but there was little she could do but give a meek nod of agreement The guard moved to the side as she walked past him, leaving the stands and finding herself in the hallway. Liandre breathed out, feeling a bit better now that she didn't have to see such brutal carnage. But there was no time to relax, she had to get moving!

She turned right, walking towards the far staircase. Ordinarily, no one came this way. The only ones that ever occupied the east wing of the castle were the scientists. She was sure... sure they must've still not been back in their labs yet. All scientists were called out of their quarters to supervise the barrier that was currently erected over the arena. Just to make sure that nothing went awry and, more importantly (for them at least), that none of the flawed tried to make any quick getaways. The steambots had also been called away for this very task so her walk through the castle was a lonely one indeed.

The princess rounded the corner, eyes hesitantly taking in her surroundings to make sure she was alone. She nodded to herself, shuffling forwards slowly and taking out her small key. She pressed her palm to the wall, a little ding! sounding seconds later and a slot opening up in the wall. She inserted her key into the lock, turning it to the side. A part of the wall to her left caved inwards, sliding to reveal the door to the upstairs labs. And... the place where they kept the gate.

She darted inside quickly, wall closing up behind her and leaving her in pitch-black silence on the other side. She took deep breaths to calm herself, walking blindly forwards until she felt the cold surface of another metal door. She pushed it open, sunlight streaming through the glass windows above and restoring light to her present location. The upstairs labs were elegant, much more well-equipped than the common ones on the other levels. Only royals and elite scientists were ever allowed up here--and she had only been here once before. The time she had brought Eiurin over....

She drew out her mirror, peering into it. "H-Hello? Eiurin, can you hear me?" The sounds of clashing metal suddenly filled the room from her mirror. There was no clear image from the other side, Eiurin must've been using her claws at the moment.

"What is it! Damn it, could you not interrupt me when--what the fuck, that winged asshole just took my kill!" Well, at least she was feisty...

"I'm sorry to disturb you, I-I just... How is everyone holding out? I'm in the main room and the device is just some meters from me." A horrid sound erupted from her mirror, sounding like flesh being torn or something equally gruesome. Whatever it was, all that danced upon her screen were flashes of crimson and silver--and the sounds of Eiurin's panting.

"Yeah yeah... the ones that were in the holding room seem to be holding out--" Eiurin's speech was a bit choppy, the woman speaking while she was battling--at least as far as Liandre could tell. "--But it ain't pretty down here so you better be happy your little prissy pants is up there."

"Are you ready...?" Liandre asked quietly, trembling a bit in nervousness. She had been preparing for this for months--but now that is was upon her... now that she was here...

"I've BEEN ready, fuck, that is one ugly-ass... Whatever--the sooner you do your stuff, the sooner I don't have to look at the one-eyed freak show over there. Now, some of us can't be talking and yapping so you do your thing, and hurry up." The image, and the sounds that came with it, faded from her display and her mirror shimmered back into normalcy. She stowed it back inside of her dress with a sigh. She could only hope that the fight left in Eiurin would last--she needed every ounce of it in order for all of them to escape safely.

She stepped towards the machine, fingers skimming over the control panel. It would only take a few minutes to set up, hopefully, everything would be coordinated...



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That whelp of a princess had been gone quite awhile now. The king absently glanced at the clock overhead--getting some fresh air didn't take as long as this. But that girl was a frail one and this was her first time attending. He licked his lips as he gazed in a demented sort of adoration at the events unfolding before him. Ah, the smell of blood, the clashes of weapons, metal, flesh--everything about the Battle Royale was simply wonderful. But... even though he was satisfied with the gore... it was taking too short of a time.

The flawed this year were more powerful than he had given them credit for being. They were wiping out their enemies with more ease than he had anticipated. He couldn't afford to have this match go by this quickly--unforgivable, inexcusable! He reached out, grabbing a handful of his assistant's shirt and pulling the man down. The man stuttered at the sudden force, falling to his knees as the king looked at him coldly.

"You, report down to the mid-level of the basements and bring out the other flawed." The assistant paled a bit, blinking several times and nervously trying to stutter out a response.

"A-Are you sure, sir? T-They were not reported as ready, Sir G-Gargarin said--" He was cut off as the king pushed him forwards, the man toppling on to the ground roughly.

"I don't care what that madman said. I am ordering you to go release the experiments... and then tell that crazed scientist of mine to release my flawed... once the experiments have experienced a few kills." The assistant quivered, getting to his feet rapidly and bowing as he practically bolted from the stands. The king was always such a cruel man! It was frightening having to be in his presence... The assistant proceeded to the elevator, taking it down to the mid-levels of the basement as he was ordered. There were a few scientists stationed around, one of them glancing up at his approach.

"What are you doing down here? Surely the king can't be..."

"I'm afraid he wants them released." The assistant confirmed with a grim expression.

"But they are not ready! The experimental flawed have not received all the training they should've, they are not set to be released until the next royale..." The assistant shook his head. He felt the same way but no one dared disobey the king. Not a single one of them.

"He ordered it to be done. Release them into the arena." The scientist sighed in resignation, opening the door and leading the assistant inside. There were many children behind the bars, looking battered and abused.

"As you can see, these are definitely not ready... but there are a few, one in particular that should strike interest for him..." The scientist trailed off as they came to stand outside a holding pen. There was a woman inside with silver hair, though he could not see her face due to the grim lighting. The assistant didn't spare her much of a glance, only nodding.

"Then those few will have to do." The scientist nodded, moving to the control panels to release the few flawed and summoning up some steambots to escort them to the arena. Whatever the king was hoping for, it wouldn't be a pretty sight...

The setting changes from Resdreillhm Palace to Isallia

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Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Vier T'sker Character Portrait: Quinn Sari
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Quinn Sari

Dirt kicked up around him as he twisted in a sharp round-house that took down the taller flawed before him. Without stopping, he flapped his wings and launched up into the air. Quinn let his body fall back onto the man's neck, effectively snapping it and taking out yet another flawed. The numbers were dwindling as the group either fought together or individually. He had already taken out two groups of paired teams and several individuals. He could feel sweat along his brow and body as he fought, the heat building as he moved. Even so, he wasn't in the least tired, reserving his energy quite well; a trick that he'd learned a long time ago.

Quinn spotted his next target and opened his wings fully. Crouching down he pushed off with his boots and flapped his wings hard three times to gain speed. He pulled up at the last second and swung his body around so that he could land a hard blow to the man's stomach with his leg. The flawed doubled over from his attack and he wasted no time. Twisting again he hit the flawed a second time, this one taking him to the ground. With his wings extended he let the mutation along his body activate and the feathers pulled free from him and launched at the flawed on the ground. In a matter of seconds the man was nothing but a pin-cushion.

The sickening feeling of his silver mutation spreading deeper into his skin almost made him throw up, but he bit back the sour taste and quickly let the mutation fade away so that it would not over take him. A hard grip took hold of his upper arm from behind him and he was surprised to find that he'd been targeted so quickly. A second later and he ground his teeth for being so careless, of course he'd be targeted he just took out most of the flawed in the arena. His body was flung then, tossed like a rag doll. He twisted in the air and landed on his feet where he skidded across the dirt, one hand reaching forward to brush the ground to help stop his sliding.

Once he stopped he looked up to see who had tossed him. It was a rather large flawed that had attacked him, metal sprouting from different parts of his body, giving him a ghoulish look. He shambled over to Quinn who felt his gaze ever rising to meet the giant's beady black eyes. He narrowed his yellow eyes at the flawed before him, his wings twitching ever so slightly. The flawed lunged forward, swinging his arms as they were his weapons. The metal slashed out at Quinn who quickly back stepped and began dancing backwards to avoid the surprisingly fast strikes from his opponent.

Quinn barely avoided another deadly blow, even so the sharp metal cut along his side, thankfully the side that wasn't covered with the silver mutation. It burned painfully and he winced, missing another attack and thus getting his shirt torn open and more blood spilled. Now his mutation was visible, the black shirt that he'd worn torn open in several places from the many spikes that the flawed before him sported and struck him with. Blood covered his pants and the strips of shirt that remained from the attack. Quinn glowered at the man and continued moving backwards, his plan then to bait the flawed to the field of energy behind them. Mindlessly the flawed followed him as he ducked, bent backwards and evaded nearly every slash and thrust that he threw at Quinn.

Breathing heavily, Quinn snapped his wings opened as he could feel the burning energy field right behind him. He feigned a duck to the left and then flapped his wings hard to the right to bring himself to the side and then adjusted his wings to skid around the flawed to behind him. The flawed followed him, but Quinn already had won. Without warning, he lunged at the man and barreled into him. Quinn's wings flapped hard to keep the momentum up and the flawed he had grabbed onto slammed into the barrier. Quickly releasing him, Quinn stepped backwards to get out of the devastation zone. The flawed screamed as the energy field tore through him, lit up like a bright blue bulb.

Quinn's chest heaved as he watched the large man slowly topple over, burned to a black crisp. His own hands were burned as well, having only briefly touched the barrier when he'd shoved the flawed into it. Slowly, his eyes lifted to the stands where the King was seated, watching with a sick smile twisted on his lips. Quinn's eyes narrowed in defiance and he turned to take on the next flawed. As the numbers were dwindling he was now facing some of the strongest flawed there. He noted the woman with metal wings that had snapped at him earlier. Now was as good as anytime to fight her.

Quinn angled himself towards her and then lunged forward, his wings propelling him forward as fast as he could go. He was upon the woman and her target in a matter of seconds and twisted in mid air to strike at her with a sharp kick.

Vier T'sker

There was movement around her and she was completely confused as to what was going on. The scientists seemed agitated as they moved around the room and her cage. She sat there with her armor on, wondering why exactly she'd been told to put the metal over her body. Not that it did much, though. She didn't need a lot of it, a chest piece to cover her vital area and then a pair of bracers along her fore arms. The bracers were unique to her though, as they were made especially for her ability. Inside the bracers against her skin were three sharp pieces of metal. Twist her arm the right way and they would cut into her skin just enough to draw blood.

It was the whole reason for her not to bear a weapon of any kind. Her blood was her weapon as she could shape it into curving blades attached to her body. She'd been practicing for battle for some time, but even so she wasn't very good at it and her manipulation of her own blood was minimal at best. Vier doubted that she could survive in a fight for more than a few minutes, depending on her opponent.

She was brought out of her gloomy thoughts as her cage was suddenly moved. Standing, Vier went to the bars before her and looked out. What was going on? She didn't voice her question though, knowing full well that she wouldn't get an answer. Even if she did ask, was she so sure she wanted to know? Vier pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and nibbled on it. Her heart pounded in her chest. Was she to fight now? That couldn't be right! She wasn't ready! None of the new experiments were ready! The King... the King was mad. Of course he was mad. Everyone knew that.

Vier shook her head to settle her thoughts as she was moved to a platform not to far from where she'd been at. Once the cage was attached to the platform, a sharp sound filled the air and a shudder followed. She stumbled slightly as the floor shifted and she felt herself lifted upwards. She passed between a thick portion of earth before she could see again and what met her eyes made her gasp slightly. The arena was littered with the dead, and only a few of them were left standing. The fighting was still going and she was about to be released into it. This meant that those that still stood were the strongest out of the entire group. Vier shook slightly.

She wasn't going to stand a chance against them. Vier started backwards, her steps bringing her to the back of the cage as the bars lifted slowly. Her vision dimmed slightly as she gazed out into the carnage. A black circle began to form around the corners of her vision giving her tunnel vision and she felt as if she were going to pass out at any second. After a moment she felt a pulse along her back and realized that the cage had turned against her. Vier stumbled forward, the slight shock to her body waking her. There was no choice, she had to enter the arena. Taking a deep breath she stepped out into the dirt and blood. For a few moments, no one noticed her, but then as one flawed fell, the one who killed the woman locked eyes on her and grinned maliciously.

Vier's heart raced as she watched the man lung at her. She didn't move, taking the direct hit that knocked her backwards. She hit the ground and flipped over herself. Laying on her stomach she could feel the burning from the punch that had connected with her abdomen. The man wasted no time and came at her again. Vier rolled on pure instinct and avoided the attack. Getting to her feet, she lifted her eyes to her new opponent. Twisting her arms, she felt the metal cut into her skin underneath the bracers. The blood began to flow and with a bit of concentration she managed to create three thin blades that came out from under the bracers. Only then did she prepare herself for a fight to the death. Vier waited until the man lunged at her a second time and she jumped forward, swinging with her arms that were now equipped with her blood-blades. In a single swipe, she'd aimed for his jugular and he fell behind her, gurgling on his own blood.

Turning, Vier watched him. A moment later her eyes widened at the realization that she'd killed someone. Her body shook slightly, but she forced the shock aside as best she could. There was no time for this. She had to survive, there was nothing else to it. Treat it like your training, she thought to herself. These people were not real... they were not real... they were not real...

The setting changes from Isallia to Resdreillhm Palace

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Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Taran Mortair Character Portrait: Quinn Sari Character Portrait: Rakka Sukai
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Motherfuckers.

Eiurin had been so wrapped up in the conversation with the princess that she hadn't been paying attention to that one asshole. The one that had just cleanly connected a kick to her stomach. That stupid piece of... The force of the blow knocked her to the ground and she spat out the sand that had flown into her mouth upon contact. Yuck! That was just plain nasty. And who did this arrogant jerk think he was anyway?! No one just hit her and got away with it. She got up quickly, glaring at him as her wings spanned out. She was going to cut him into little tiny pie--

"I've had enough!" A loud yell drew her enraged stare from the boy upwards to the stands. The king was on his feet looking absolutely beside himself. He had the microphone he used earlier up to his mouth and he screamed into it. "Release my champion this instant! Don't let any of them escape!" Oh well, sucks for him, that was exactly what they were planning. Hey, what was that idiot over there doing? The flawed frowned at the monk who somehow (even though she was pretty sure his code was the most retarded of all) was still alive. Oh jeez. They really let the ball drop on the survivors.

A few more shouts and she looked away from the others, narrowing her eyes. Her hand clenched in a fist as a low rumbling filled the arena, the ground shaking beneath her feet. At the far wall, a gate was rising, a guttural and primal growl sounding from behind it. Before the gate was even fully open, a creature of annoying size bounded through, tearing the metal to bits as if it was nothing. It was misshapen and contorted, as if it had been warped beyond comprehension. It bellowed in rage and swiped at the nearest flawed.

From the looks of it, those poor bastards were dead the instant it hit them. Well this was just fan-fucking-tastic. Honestly, the barriers were down already, this was just... pointless jibber jabber. The creature, however, did not seem as fascinated by the flawed as perhaps the king would've hoped. It soon turned around, noticing those in the audience that had not yet moved. It yelled, throwing itself into the crowd and demolishing a large section of the concrete.

Whooooooa shit. She wouldn't want to have to fight something as ugly as that thing--it'd be kind of sad to have to kill it anyway. It was sort of doing her job for her. It was no lie or well kept secret that Eiurin had been fantasizing about how to kill every single one of the audience members before this whole thing was through. Whatever, it was providing the perfect distraction anyway.

"Oi, idiots!" She called out to the few surviving finalists. "Ya gonna stand there gawking? Come with me if you want to--fuck it. Just get the hell over here or I'll slice you to pieces." She ended with a rather menacing smile, particularly in the direction of the young priestess. No one ever said she had to play nice with them anyway. All she had to do was lead them to where the princess was waiting. She'd get to go back to her world and things would be back to normal.

That was what was going to happen, damn it, and she was not allowed to let a few unexpected events totally ruin her efforts.

The setting changes from Resdreillhm Palace to Isallia

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Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Vier T'sker Character Portrait: Quinn Sari
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Quinn skidded to a halt after landing the kick on her. He flapped his wings a few times to slow his forward momentum and watched her spit out the dirt in her mouth and get back to her feet. She opened her own wings and looked to be very pissed off, threw some curses at him and was about to attack when the King interrupted. Both looked up towards the crowd where the man was at, spouting his anger about the fighting and then calling upon something to be released.

A frown worked it's way onto his stoney features as he was trying to figure out what it was the King was talking about. He didn't need to wait long though as the room rumbled, shuddering as a door opened an a monstrosity emerged. His eyebrows came down as he twisted around completely to face the new threat. Quinn watched as it attacked the spectators, the sick audience who thought that these 'games' were entertaining. For a mere moment, the flawed thought about letting it rampage around the arena without stopping it, but that didn't seem to be the interests of the girl he'd just attacked.

"Oi, idiots! Ya gonna stand there gawking? Come with me if you want to--fuck it. Just get the hell over here or I'll slice you to pieces."

An eyebrow arched as he turned to regard her coldly. Did she really think that they were going to go help her? "Like hell I'm going with you," he muttered angrily.

If anything he would fight the damned thing on his own without anyones help. Brushing her off completely, Quinn rushed ahead of her. His wings snapped open and they pumped several times against the air, lifting him slightly off the ground. He shot towards the monster quickly, preparing to use his ability as he went.

When he was close enough, he allowed the mutation to activate. The sickening feeling spread through him and almost dropped him. Having been injured earlier, it wasn't helping that the silver spread across the cuts too. He manipulated it to sharpen his feathers and launched a barrage of the projectiles at the creature. The beast turned around, it's attention on him once the feathers hit their mark.

Quinn was unsure if they had done what he wanted them too, though he was thinking not because the damned monster was still moving. He moved quickly, rolling off to the side as the thing swung down at him. The ground shuddered from the impact, dust and rocks flying upwards. The flawed, temporarily blinded from the dirt, turned on his heel and aimed upwards to where he thought the creature was at. Another launch of sharpened feathers flew forth. Quinn quickly dropped the activation though as it was beginning to burn too much, making his stomach sick.

The dirt began to settle and the creature was far too close for Quinn to avoid. He almost never would have seen the attack coming. The beast had turned swiftly when Quinn had launched the feathers and was swinging it's arm down at him a second time. It was far too fast for him, especially since he hadn't seen it. The crushing weight was sure to have broken one far less sturdy than the flawed, even so, Quinn was sure it broke something. He went hurling backwards, his wings unable to do anything to stop himself this time and he slammed into the wall from where the beast had emerged.

Hitting his head fairly hard, he was heavily dazed as he fell to the ground limply. The taste of blood filled his mouth as he hit the ground on his stomach. Quinn pulled his arms towards his body to push himself up. However, he only got partway off the ground before he fell back down, his body losing consciousness.

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She'd killed her third flawed, her body moving in rythm with her breathing. A trick she'd taught herself while training. It seemed to help her movements, making them smoother and less jerky. It also helped that she was imagining the people she killed to be mere fantasies. They were not real to her, and that allowed her to continue fighting and not freeze up. However, that was broken with the King's loud voice breaking over the arena in livid rage.

She startled, stopping midway from tearing apart a young girl who stared at her in horror and shock. The girls eyes were pleading as she watched Vier. Vier pulled away, her own eyes shimmering with the shock of what she'd been doing. How easily she'd lost herself in the imaginary visions of her own mind. As if to call her back to the real world a second time, the ground shook and a giant flawed entered the arena. Perhaps 'flawed' was the wrong word. It was a monster, ugly and gigantic in proportions. A nightmare amongst the nightmare she was already living.

A shout across the arena got her attention and she noted another flawed yelling out to the others that were staring at the creature just like she had been. The girl had metal wings and beside her was a boy with wings too. He looked the worse for wear though, already bleeding with is shirt torn open. A flash of silver caught her gaze as he shifted and suddenly left the woman flawed side. Vier watched in amazement as the boy took on the monser by himself without waiting for anyone else.

Vier, on the other hand, couldn't move for the longest time as she watched. Then, just as she thought that maybe the young man had the upper hand and could actually kill the creature, her hopes were crushed. He took a hit full on, swiped off the ground literally. He felt flying through the air and crashed into the wall behind where the beast had come from. The sound of his body hitting the wall made Vier wince, it was a terrible sound and she was hardly surprised that he couldn't get back up.

It was then that she rushed across the arena and stood next to the winged girl's side. Her eyes were wide with fear as she looked back at the creature. She had to do something though. The boy had, after all... Her heart hammered in her chest as she looked back to his still form. Was he even alive after that? Vier shook her head, she had to think he was. Or maybe it was better that he'd died. That way she wouldn't have to kill him when they finished here.

"What do you need?" Vier asked the girl breathlessly. She hardly knew what to do against this thing aside from charging in and that hadn't worked, obviously. Vier hoped that the flawed next to her had a better plan than that.

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Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Taran Mortair Character Portrait: Vier T'sker Character Portrait: Quinn Sari
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Taran had nearly ran off on his own, but at the last second, he knew that it would be incredibly stupid to try and break out on his own, and even if he did have the power, he could hardly leave all the others here. “United we stand, and all that I suppose.” He muttered to himself as he glanced around wondering what they should do.
Considering the cause of the walls dropping was unknown, they could restart at any time so the best immediate course of action would be to get out of their boundary as quickly as possible. Before he could move, he heard a shout from the King, "I've had enough! Release my champion this instant! Don't let any of them escape!"

“Champion?” Taran spoke aloud. “How interesting.” His expectations were exceeded when the monster revealed itself. Impatient, it tore the opening gate apart as if the mighty metal bars were nothing more than tinfoil. As it lumbered forward, Taran began to feel incredibly uneasy. "Oh my, this certainly does not bode well." There was something about this abomination that was not quite right. It was far different than the other twisted creations that came from whatever hellish pit the King had produced them. This one seemed to have actual power. Not just strength and savagery, although he could sense much of that as well. Altogether, even he would avoid fighting it if at all possible.

Fortunately, that decision would have to be put off as the golem like creation apparently preferred to take on the audience instead of the Flawed who at that point should be focused on escaping. Speaking of which, a voice called out, snapping his thoughts back to the present. "Oi, idiots! Ya gonna stand there gawking? Come with me if you want to--fuck it. Just get the hell over here or I'll slice you to pieces."
Taran could not help but smile. At least someone else had their priorities in order. Unlike that rude one from before who refused to give his name. He just charged past the girl and attacked the beast. Taran knew it would not end well, and it was only a few moments before his fears were confirmed. He darted forward as fast as he could, knowing the thing was going to strike another blow at the boy’s now unconscious body. As soon as he was in range, Taran used his power to start pulling the boy toward him thought they were a hundred meters apart from each other, Taran was still able to use his gravitational ability to move the boy enough to get him out of the way from the next strike. This was difficult in that it was almost impossible for him to directionalize his own gravity generation, so it must have been affecting other people as well. Even so, he tried his best to only pull what was directly in front of him. As he got closer, the boy dragged across the ground faster until Taran could pick him up and throw him over one shoulder.

Looking to the girl who called out from before, he saw that another girl had joined her. They looked very different, and he could not help but appreciate for a moment, the contrast between the two. ”Odd the things you notice when your impending doom is crashing down upon you.” he noted to himself before returning his attention to the creature. “Blast it all.” He lamented, now noticing that the thing was none too happy about Taran stealing away its prey. “I really should not have saved you.” He commented to the unconscious body hanging over his shoulder. “But nothing to do about it now, except finish the job.” He tossed the body into the air, and reversed his personal gravity to send the winged boy flying towards the two girls, hoping they would take care of him. Probably not, but one could hope.

Less than a second later, he leapt into the air, dodging a crushing fist that crashed into the ground from above. He landed on the fist and ran up the length of the arm. Reaching the top, he jumped, and spun around delivering a powerful axe kick to the side of the creature’s head. With the same momentum, he pushed off the thing’s face, and landed on the ground several feet away. It was not until he landed that he saw the creature had not so much as moved. “This is not going to be a fun fight…. Is it?” he asked the thing, not really expecting an answer.

Deciding to change tactics, he went on the offensive. His staff had been on his back for quite some time, but now he unfortunately needed it. He drew it out quickly, and in the same movement, darted forward. Running to the beast, he zigzagged, dodging all of the direct blows the thing delivered, but none of the debris. As he drew closer, he started slashing at the things ankles with his Naginata. He tried weaving between the two feet and tripping up the beast, throwing him off balance, but he had no such luck. After only two slashes (which did not do so much as scratch the skin) the Creature was able to predict his movement, and kicked him away. His body hit a wall with an impact great enough to crumble the stone. Even Taran, and his super dense body could not fully withstand such a powerful blow. He slowly got to his feet on shaky legs and focused on breathing as deliberately as was possible. He did not have much time, the thing would be on him in a few seconds at the most. Even if he could defeat this monster, it would take far too long. He needed to get out of there. Sticking the Naginata in the ground for the time being, he grabbed four boulders from the wall in his arms. He jumped again into the air, and landed on the thing’s knee. As soon as he landed, he was back in the air jumping to its shoulder, then again to the top of the things head, and one final jump straight into the air as high as he could. Once he reached the pinnacle of his trajectory, he threw the four boulders down, pushing them as hard as he could with both his arms, and personal gravity. They all hit the ground at approximately the same time, and exploded from the force of the impact, causing a dust cloud to rise up around the thing several meters in every direction. Using the massive dust cloud as cover, he pushed himself to the side with his gravity, and landed by his Naginata. “Forgive me, but I have no intention of dying right now.”

Running over to the girls and the boy he stopped, “My apologies, friends, I wanted to come straight away, but I had to escape the…… Thing’s attention first.” Then turning to the smaller girl, who was barely dressed, he spoke, “You wanted us to gather here? I am assuming that is because you have a plan on escaping. One that I am most interested in, I’m sure.”

The setting changes from Isallia to Resdreillhm Palace

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Taran Mortair Character Portrait: Vier T'sker Character Portrait: Quinn Sari Character Portrait: Rakka Sukai
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How come no one listened when she called out to them? Stupid idiots! The winged boy had been the first offender, running off and doing his own thing but (of course) got his ass whooped within seconds. Knocked out cold, that ridiculous moron. The silver haired female was smarter than him, though, and immediately had come to Eiurin's side with a thoughtful light in her eyes.
"What do you need?" It came out a bit breathlessly but it still seemed genuine. The metal flawed rolled her golden eyes and placed her hands on her hips as she observed the group.

"Not until the other dumbasses get over here... not sure what the hell they are thinking." She grumbled, none too quietly for that matter. Eiurin had no qualms about insulting someone as loudly as she wished and if they were offended, well, sucks to be them! The monk seemed equally as stupid as the winged boy for he had willingly gone into the fight to retrieve the unconscious dead weight.

Really, was this some kind of pity play or some shit? They had places to be, literal PLACES to be, and this idjit right here was going around and saving some guy who had abandoned the main group to be a selfish jerk. And then once he picks him up, the monk goes and tries to continue attacking the large beast! Were these guys incapable of even THINKING properly? Ugh.

The boy soon learned how futile his efforts were and, after throwing a distraction a ways from them to call off the creature's attention, returned to the small ragtag group of flawed with a shake of his head. “My apologies, friends, I wanted to come straight away, but I had to escape the… Thing’s attention first. You wanted us to gather here? I am assuming that is because you have a plan on escaping. One that I am most interested in, I’m sure.” Eiurin rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.

"Yeah yeah, save the sucking up speech for later. First of all, I'm not your friend so don't get the wrong idea!" She hissed at him with narrowed eyes. "Only doing this bullshit because miss prissy-pants wanted to save all you dumbasses or whatever..." She frowned, glancing over at the stands nearest them.

"Anyway, with that thing causing problems for the audience, we'll have time to make our escape. Pretty sure that fuck-up of a king ain't gonna be keepin' his eyes on us with all that destruction." She smirked a bit, as if amused by the fact of the carnage. Eiurin hadn't grown up in a casual environment. She was used to freak accidents and murders--stuff like this was partially run-of-the-mill for her. Though the enemies where she came from weren't exactly as tall as that giant of a flawed.

"It's best if we stick together from here on out. Just to make it clear, I've got NO responsibility if you die on the way. I'm only going to bring us to where the princess is waitin'. So each man for himself, what the fuck ever." She ended on a shrug and flicked a bit of hair out of her eyes.

Without further ado, the girl was already scampering up the wall with ease and lifting herself into the first row of the stands. She raised her arm and waved a bit to signal to the others to follow her. No matter how much of a distraction that large flawed was providing, if they didn't move fast, the opportunity would be lost. She was certain, judging from what Liandre told her, that the king had ways of controlling his champion. And she sure as hell wasn't going to stick around to find out how.

The setting changes from Resdreillhm Palace to Isallia

Setting

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Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Evelynn Character Portrait: Taran Mortair Character Portrait: Vier T'sker Character Portrait: Quinn Sari Character Portrait: Rakka Sukai
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"I've had enough! Release my champion this instant! Don't let any of them escape!"

The voice echoed throughout the arena, powerful and commanding. She looked up towards where the King stood, his face contorted in rage. She shivered despite herself, she was feeling weary even though she knew she wasn’t drained but it was still hard. She’d killed another three flawed since entering the arena, her skin was grazed, cut and bruised as well covered with splodges of blood from the fighting, but she wasn’t ready to give up just yet. However the sight of this ‘Champion’ charging into join them caused her to stop for a moment, a sliver of fear etched in her heart before she clamped down on it hard and regained her composure. She was watching with interest

"Oi, idiots! Ya gonna stand there gawking? Come with me if you want to--fuck it. Just get the hell over here or I'll slice you to pieces."

Another voice called out, another flawed attempting to take control of the situation from what she could understand. Clearly someone who thought themselves the leader of those flawed who flocked to her commanding voice or at least tough enough to demand that they be made their leader. Eve wasn’t sure what to make of her but either way if she had some way out of this it looked like her best bet. But if that turned out to be a dead end she’d make sure to wipe that smug smile off her pretty face. Maybe using a knife if needs be. She chuckled darkly to herself for a moment before she felt more than thought of a pair of eyes looking disapprovingly at her which caused her to clutch her metal tags tightly for a moment as she chastised herself for the sadistic thought.

She looked around the arena, seeing what others were doing in response to the girls cry and finding that not many of the Flawed remained and that those who did appeared to have reached a simiar conclusion, if they wanted to make it through this then sticking together might be their only chance. She turned back towards the 'Champion' to watch it ripping into the stalls, devouring those too slow or foolish to break and run; including, much to her pleasure, many of the guards and wardens with their blasted steambot. Her face was turned into a joyful, yet lopsided grin at their brutal deaths which bordered on a smirk which faded slightly when she saw one of the remaining flawed run almost suicidally to engage the foul creature causing her brow to furrow in puzzlement. As it turned to meet him one of the guards beneath its claws was thrown like a chew toy across the arena, smashing the man’s skull against the curve of the wall nearest her. She darted towards him, and began to raid his body for anything useful beyond his armour since that while what he was wearing was clearly durable and useful she was already protected in that regard from her own before this had begun and his armour would have likely been more of an encumbrance anyway.

Her quick search yielded several curved knives slotted into his belt at regular intervals which she unlocked and wrapped the belt around her waist; a simple yet masterful longsword which was slotted into one of a pair of back mounted scabbards, the second being strangely empty; as well as the remains of his halberd which was now several splintered bits of wood, one particularly jagged bit she picked up and impaled it hard into the man’s chest causing a single tear to run down her cheek before she regained control. She didn’t have time to let go yet.

Having already locked the knifebelt into place she unbuckled the scabbards and swung them over her shoulders, chuckling at what she decided was a reassuring weight resting there. All of this had happened in a few moments and when she glanced back towards the ‘Champion’ she could see the body of the foolish boy who had attacked it now lying close towards the girl who’d demanded they follow her while another boy with a bloodied spear, oriental in its design, appeared to have retreated towards her from the direction of the creature. Eve began to run towards this group when she caught sight of the other sword from the guard’s, well now hers, pair lying in the sand nearby. Picking it up and testing its weight as she sprinted towards the others she couldn’t help but smile to herself.

As she arrived she caught the back end of what appeared to be another insult laden rant intended to secure her role as leader to those around her, given that they were battered and weary and she appeared cool and collected. But either way it didn’t matter much. Eve smiled as she listened to the girl’s vocabulary of insults appearing to grow as she’d turned it towards all of them rather than the spear wielding boy and the someone passive girl with her. As she swore once again to illiterate her point to them Eve almost rolled her eyes in exasperation but just about managed to stop herself. She watched the girl make a break for the wall and climb to the top with ease, and was about to follow herself when she remembered the unconscious boy near her feet. She could leave him and get out but once again she could feel those silent eyes staring disappointedly at her.

Damn. Damn. Damn. She grumbled inside her head.

What should she do? Try to wake him or try to carry him? Either way didn't sound the best.

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Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Taran Mortair Character Portrait: Vier T'sker Character Portrait: Quinn Sari
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#, as written by Siryn
(Collab post between Jed and I, much thanks to Jed :) )

Taran looked at the girl in confusion, he had no idea what he had done to offend her, and hoped to still the waters between them. Picking up the feathered boy, he looked at the other girl. “Greetings.” he smiled as warmly as he could, given the circumstances. Not waiting for a reply, he ran straight up the wall after the first girl, only using his hands when he go to the top. Setting they boy down, he turned around and waited to see if the girl needed assistance. ............. When she reached the top, he picked the winged boy back up on his shoulder and said, "I am called Taran. May I ask your name?" Smiling, his eyes were a glittering silver, glad to be finally leaving this place.

Vier watched as another man joined them and took off, gaining the creatures attention and retrieving the winged boy who'd gone and gotten himself hurt badly. She was still unsure if he was alive or not. When the man returned, he offered her a smile something that made her feel a bit odd because no one had ever smiled at her before. After telling her 'greetings' he picked up the winged boy that he'd thrown over to them earlier, and ran for the wall that the girl who'd taken charge leapt up.

Vier followed, intent on not being left behind and curious as to what the girl meant by her master wanting their freedom given to them. Or something like that. She ran towards the wall, scaling it with her eyes as she tried to judge how well she was going to be able to climb it. She didn't have wings or anything of the like. The man made it up easily enough even with the winged boy over his shoulder. For a moment she felt that she would be a burden, but tossed it aside. She had to get out of there. It was a dream for her to escape this life, a dream that was slowly coming true. Vier wasn't about to let it slip away.

She sped up, her blood blades were still active on her arms from her mutation and she used them to help her get up the wall when she couldn't run further up it. It only got her so far and she was more than thankful for the man turning to retrieve her. She'd lunged forward and he'd grabbed her, pulling her the rest of the way up. Her heart was in her throat, thoughts of what could have possibly happened if she'd not been helped up.

She panted slightly next to him as he introduced himself as Taran, "Vier. I'm Vier," she returned, "Thank you for helping me."

“It is a pleasure and an honor meeting you, Vier. And please do not thank me.” Taran chuckled as he ran after the smaller girl with a bad attitude. “Was I supposed to leave you to do it on your own? What if you had not made it to the top by yourself? That would have been the same as leaving you to die. I might as well have killed you if that were the case.”

Vier chased after them, dropping her mutations activation. The blood blades sunk back under the cuffs around her arms. Thin trails of blood spilled forth and covered her fingers from the cuts that she'd made earlier to create the blades.

"I-I..." she was at a loss for words. How had he maintained his composure through everything? How had he kept such a kindness in the place they were all in just moment ago? Or maybe it was just a facade, something to use to get closer to others. Vier shuddered slightly, her eyes moving from his frame over to the smaller girl who was leading them.

"I'm sure others would have left me," she stated softly, "The boy... how is he? Is he... dead?" She asked wearily.

“Others do not have my Master to guide them.” He smiled back at her. Hearing her question, he looked at the boy. Not an easy task when running as fast as you can down a hallway. And the odd anatomy made it even more difficult. “I am unsure. He received quite the injuries.” Then, dividing his attention just as his Master taught him to in situations so his body would act on its own while his mind could think, he focused on feeling the boy’s body.

The first thing he noticed, was that the body -though unconscious- it was not heavy like a dead person was, and how the weight shifted felt different. He had picked up many bodies in the arena in the past, especially in group tournaments, where he could throw them at other contestants, and use them to hide, or as distractions. The second thing was that he could feel a very soft, gentle beating. It might have been his own heart, but since he had been running, his would probably be beating faster. “He does not carry like a corps, and I may feel his heartbeat.” He responded after a few minutes.

Vier let out a soft sigh, "I'm glad," the woman turned her attention to where they were going. She had no idea where the other girl was leading them, and she wasn't entirely sure if they were even going to make it out alive at all, "Where do you think we're going?"

“No idea.” He responded lightheartedly. “Although, she did say that she was taking us to ‘Miss Prissy-pants; and also referred to assumedly the same person as a princess. So my guess would be that we are about to meet royalty.” He had not put any thought into it before, but that practically screamed ‘TRAP!’ It was very well possible that they had been deceived, and were walking into an ambush. But that seemed unlikely, considering everything that had just happened. What would be the point of taking down the walls, sending out the champion, and luring them deep into the palace just to kill them there, instead of letting them all kill each other like they did every year? The whole situation was confusing, and Taran had no idea what to think of it. Was it even possible that one of the ROYALS was actually helping them? “So either a princess is actually helping us escape for some reason, or we are about to be killed.” He tried to say it in the same cheery tone that he had been using, but this was the first time his heart was not behind it. “In any case, I am confident that working in conjunction, you and I can make short work of whatever stands in our way, Vier. However, if worse comes to worst, I need to be confident in the faith I place in you. I need to know that you understand that we are no longer in the arena, and our only hope of another life is through cooperation. Is my trust misplaced?”

Vier felt a bit of a jump in her chest, her heart skipping a beat as she steadily kept pace with him the winged girl leading them. Was he perhaps hinting at the fact that together they would be more powerful? That together they wouldn't have anything to worry about? That with him he would protect her, so long as she did the same for him too? It was a jump to say the least in situations, but Vier couldn't help but want to agree with it. After all, she wasn't the strongest fighter, she was timid to say the least and his personality (if it wasn't all an act) was oh so appealing to her.

"No, your trust is not misplaced," she responded softly, the words barely escaping her lips as she thought of their situation, "Thank you... again." She muttered as she followed them. Well, if anything she figured that together with him no matter if the princess they were going to see was to harm or help them, they would make it through. They had to. Not after just gaining their freedom. It would be a damned pity to lose it all so easily right at the beginning.

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Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Evelynn Character Portrait: Taran Mortair Character Portrait: Vier T'sker Character Portrait: Quinn Sari
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Despite her indecision the choice was made for her as the boy with the spear knelt and hefted the unconscious one over his shoulder and nodded towards the other member of their group who was still there in greeting before running towards the wall and climbing it with ease. Sighing softly to herself, somewhat relieved, she too made her way towards the wall; admittedly staying slightly distant from them as she wasn't entirely sure about any of them thus far, especially given that this 'Taran' appeared to have introduced himself to the other but not to herself. She watched the girl follow him without much difficulty having formed blades of a red liquid which... Was that blood? Somewhat intrigued she watched as the oddly compassionate boy reached down to help her to the top after which they spoke for a moment before following after the loud-mouthed girl.
Rather nice of them to offer to help.

Grumbling to herself, she checked the section of wall and noticed several points which would make decent enough handholds to get her up a few heartbeats later. After making sure that all of her newly acquired weapons were safely secured and placed within their scabbards and sheaths she made a running jump for the wall and climbed up, swinging from rocky-outcrop to crumbling stone. She was able to get her fingertips into the ridges of the stones and leaver herself to the top, collapsing for a moment as she saw the other two move onwards with the unconscious body swung over Taran’s shoulder.

“I knew there was a reason I hated other people.” She growled as she sped off after them.

As they ran further into the myriad tunnels of this place Eve tried to keep up with them as best she could while she listened into their conversation and was somewhat glad that the other boy was not dead. Even though she was beginning to feel that this boy was somewhat of an anomaly, perhaps even genuine with his concerns it bothered her greatly. Since after all every one of them was in this for themselves whether they wanted to be or not. It was the truth of the Royale. Part of her cynicism was cemented by the fact that his odd question of trust with the girl next to him sounded like testing the waters to see where people’s loyalties lay. Perhaps he was planning to usurp their guide when they reached their destination? It was hard to be certain but so far she doubted that any of them would be trustworthy, after all no one was.

Either way it was beginning to look that while today wasn’t likely to end in either her death or those of everyone else it may well boil down to something far worse. Especially given the roars and screams she could still hear behind them. Both of which appeared to be getting louder rather than dulling as they widened the distance. Not a good sign all things considered.

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Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Luther Gottfried von Krieger Character Portrait: Evelynn Character Portrait: Taran Mortair Character Portrait: Vier T'sker Character Portrait: Quinn Sari
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#, as written by Ezarael
Luther

Luther was hurriedly digging through a pile of rubble whilst the Coliseum was trembling as the King’s twisted Champion tore into the monument of death with a veracity matched only by that of a feral beast cornered by its hunter, his hands caked with a mud mixed from shattered rock, sweat, and blood that was both his own and that of others’. No matter how fervently he dug the pile never seemed to end as he worked to reveal the body which belonged to a lone forearm clutching at the empty air for some way to break free from its prison, but before he could even bring the arm’s shoulder to light another tremor shook the stadium as the rampaging beast tore another chunk from its side. When the dust cleared Luther could still see the lonely forearm, now strangely clutching his cloak as it was freed not only from the rubble, but from its owner as well.

A wave of anger and frustration surged through Luther’s usually unruffled and jovial persona, as if it wasn’t bad enough that they had hundreds of Flawed murder each other every year the King had to go and cause this ruckus. Maybe it was not the King’s fault the shields were down, yet that monstrosity wreaking havoc upon everything with indiscretion was most definitely that power-hungry fool’s fault, but there was too little time to focus upon wrath at the moment. There were still hundreds, if not thousands, still in need of help, the situation did not look to be quieting down anytime soon, and by the sounds of things his assumptions were correct earlier. A chorus of fighting rang out from all around and Flawed from the Royale were quickly attempting to flee the battlefield, but whether for revenge or some other reason would only be known after they climbed past the rubble.

With the flick of a wrist the bruised and battered noble quickly drew his sabre as his adrenaline-fueled figure brought him to one of the numerous origins of conflict, finding several of the guards occupied with a small group of Flawed, and faring very poorly by the looks of things. No matter how well trained any of their soldiers may be the Flawed usually had the upper-hand, and it would still be some time before the Steambots could properly respond to all skirmishes taking place, but their priority would probably be the hulking beast tearing the stadium apart at the moment. Not that any of it really mattered at the moment, the reins of the situation would be brought securely into the military’s hand relatively soon and this mayhem would stop, all they had to do was hopefully stay alive until that happened.

Before he could assist any of his fellow countrymen though, a certain sight gave him pause, was that twice in one day? He could see Liandre’s Flawed, the scrumptious little-tart he wished could meet Nobunaga named Eiurin, working her way through the mayhem towards where the elevators were located, and it appeared as if a small group of Flawed was not far behind her either. A lightning bolt of recognition shot through the back of Luther’s mind, igniting the spark which had been smoldering there since earlier as he recalled some of the peculiar circumstances of the day. With a look of fierce determination on the noble’s face, enhanced by the ever-looming scar given to him by his father, Luther rushed as quickly as he could to the elevators, his station merited access to them but his father, prudent as always, refused to allow his son the privilege of its use on these days. This was most definitely a sour turn of events, and he was fearful of what the King would think about both his time spent with Liandre earlier today and his current absence from his Majesty’s presence at such an inopportune moment once the truth of the situation came to light, as it always seemed to do. Things were not all that horrendous though, if things were as they seemed, from his rather unique perspective at the least, then his beautiful lady Liandre was capable of planning-out extremely intricate plans, but hopefully his love had not bitten off more than she could chew, it would be such a tragic shame if he had to give his life to protect her from harm before even receiving a kiss from her sweet lips.

The tremendous force of another body colliding with his own soon side-tracked the noble from his intended destination as the individual flew into him from the side, sending the both of them toppling head-over-heels across the rough stone-floors of the hallway. After losing track of his sword Luther instinctively went to trying and grapple with his unknown enemy, forcing his fingers into the Flawed’s eyes before feeling a white-hot stabbing pain digging into his side. His hands quickly sought out anything nearby and found a decent sized rock within reach and bringing it swiftly up against the head of whomever or whatever he was fighting with at the moment. Before long the body soon grew limp, but that same searing pain was throbbing in Luther’s side, when he went to check the area he noticed a set of claws embedded deeply into his flesh, at least down to their second-knuckle. Luther set about tenderly removing the claws from his side, clamping his left-hand on the wound, and grasping his re-discovered sword in his right.

When he found the time to regain his bearings, doing his best to put the thought of searing pain and bleeding to death to the back of his mind, he looked back towards the elevator, or where the elevator should be. It was hard to tell if the group of Flawed was there or not with all the smoke and dust filling the air, his eyes squinting forcefully to try and make the scene out better, but to no avail. “Heh, might as well let them be off, I have other things which merit my attention, such as the Flawed who are obviously trying to kill the citizens and guards. I hope Liandre won’t be too disgusted by my appearance to merit our date after everything settles down.” His words trailed off with a weary-chuckle, filled more with the lingering dread of what was to never be than irony at his current predicament.

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Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Evelynn Character Portrait: Taran Mortair Character Portrait: Vier T'sker Character Portrait: Quinn Sari
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#, as written by Siryn
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He was bouncing slightly, his head lolling from one side to the other with no control. Quinn hated the feeling of being out of control of his own body. He groaned slightly as he regained consciousness. Everything hurt, especially in his chest and ribs. He couldn't quite figure out why it hurt so much, but it did. Then he realized that he was being carried, hoisted over someone's shoulder and that was why he was bouncing just a bit. Quinn took another breath and winced painfully. The position he was in wasn't helping his broken ribs.

Shaking his head just a bit, he slowly opened his eyes and reached up to run a hand through his hair, pushing it all aside so that he could see better. Of course, all he could see was the ground rushing by and a pair of feet and legs. He shifted, groaning again but more in pain than anything else. The flawed was really not liking the position he was in, and who the hell was carrying him? His gaze could only see so much and on the other side was an armored woman with long silvery blue hair. Behind them was another woman, her dark eyes watched all of them carefully.

Reaching over his hands gripped the persons side, gathering mostly cloth though, and pushed upwards in an attempt to free himself. It didn't work very well and he immediately lost the strength to try again. Was something else broken too? He'd certainly hit the wall pretty hard... even so, he had been lucky not to hit any jagged metal that the creature had created when it'd burst through the wall.

Quinn's breath panted in and out of his chest, quick and short as he hung there. He tested his wings. One was mobile, the other wasn't, hanging limply across the person's front who carried him. Of course, it would just so happen that his wing was broken. Figures. He ground his teeth together in irritation. Come to think of it... why was he being carried? Had they really, seriously, saved him? What fools.

"Put me down," he growled, utterly pissed off at the situation.

Image


The sound of the winged boys voice startled her and she looked over. He was awake! Though... he didn't sound very happy either. Vier pulled her lower lip into her mouth and nibbled on it nervously. Looking at Taran she shrugged slightly. It was up to him if he wanted to put down the seriously wounded boy or not.

"You shouldn't push yourself," she offered softly, dropping back just enough to look at him. The boy raised his head, yellow eyes narrowed in irritation and his lips pulled into a frown. Dark hair fanned his face, bouncing slightly as they moved down the hall to what appeared to be some elevators. So that was where the girl was leading them... from there though was still a mystery. Although, Vier had to admit she was happy that they hadn't been led straight to any of the royals.

"Let go of me," the boy insisted again, more venomous than the first time.

Vier shook her head slightly, "I really don't think that's a good idea. You took quite the battering earlier. You're lucky to be alive!"

He didn't say anything, only glowered at her as he shifted his body to try to push out of Taran's hold. Vier frowned in response to that. Taran was rather strong and the boy -in his current condition- was no match in strength. She returned to her place right next to Taran and sighed as she looked at him. With a shrug she shook her head slightly.

"Stubborn... but I guess that comes with being in this place for so long. Maybe he'll come around."

"Like hell," the boy growled. It didn't seem like he talked much. Vier bit her lip again. He sure was stubborn... and very cold. It made her wonder why he was like that. Maybe he didn't like the fact that they'd saved him instead of leaving him back in the pit to die. How sad...

"Maybe you can put him down when we reach the elevators?" Vier asked Taran, a little worried for his safety if the boy grew even more angry. She didn't want the flawed to lash out at Taran, she couldn't have that. Then she'd have to fight the winged boy and she really didn't want to do that either.

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Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Evelynn Character Portrait: Taran Mortair Character Portrait: Vier T'sker Character Portrait: Quinn Sari
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#, as written by JEDH3
Feeling the body on his shoulder stir, Taran looked back to see the man’s eyes flutter open weakly. “Hello there, Friend. I am glad to see that you are alive.” He smiled. Hearing his growl, Taran answered still smiling, “My apologies, but I do not think that that would be wise. We are in a great hurry, and I would hate it if you fell behind due to your injuries.”


"Let go of me," the boy insisted again, more venomous than the first time.

Vier shook her head slightly, "I really don't think that's a good idea. You took quite the battering earlier. You're lucky to be alive!"

He didn't say anything, only glowered at her as he shifted his body to try to push out of Taran's hold. Vier frowned in response to that. She returned to her place right next to Taran and sighed as she looked at him. With a shrug she shook her head slightly.

"Stubborn... but I guess that comes with being in this place for so long. Maybe he'll come around."

"Like hell," the boy growled. It didn't seem like he talked much. Vier bit her lip again. He sure was stubborn... and very cold.

"Maybe you can put him down when we reach the elevators?" Vier asked Taran, a little worried for his safety if the boy grew even more angry. She didn't want the flawed to lash out at Taran, she couldn't have that. Then she'd have to fight the winged boy and she really didn't want to do that either.



“Yes,” he agreed to Vier’s suggestion. It would do him some good to rest. But I wonder how he will react to being picked up again when the time comes.” Glancing over his shoulder at the boy, he noticed a flash of red hair behind them. Curious, he turned around to see another Flawed girl. Her red hair was spiky, and she more what seemed to be that same weapons that most of the guards used. Her eyes were very dark and untrusting, and Taran did not like it. He felt as though she might not cooperate with the group as easily as Vier had agreed to. But in any case, he could not treat her any differently that he would the others, even if she did not trust him. Strike that. Especially if she did not trust him.

“Oh, Hello there.” He smiled, slowing down to her side. “I am glad to see that you are with us. My apologies for ignoring you so long, for I was ignorant of your presence. I am Taran, and the lady whom I was speaking to a moment ago is Vier. I am happy to see that you made it over the wall unaided. I hope that no others were left behind. He frowned for a moment, his eyes flickering grey for a moment before forcing himself back to his normal, polite self. In any case, it brings me- and I am sure the others as well- joy to know that another will share in our freedom. If you would be so kind, may I ask what your name might be?”

The setting changes from Isallia to Resdreillhm Palace

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Evelynn Character Portrait: Taran Mortair Character Portrait: Vier T'sker Character Portrait: Quinn Sari Character Portrait: Rakka Sukai
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#, as written by Igari
(Shorter post this time guys :O I'm a little pressed for time as college is approaching and all but I promise the next one will be nice and lengthy <3)



Eiurin




Were those nerds seriously socializing when they were running for their lives? This was just fan-fucking-tastic."Hey, punks!" She called over her shoulder, about ready to rip that monk limb from limb since he seemed to be the instigator of this meet and greet. "This isn't some random group date, keep it in your fucking pants! Aren't you a monk?" She questioned with narrowed eyes, but it was more rhetorical than anything else. She really didn't care enough to try listening in to his answer.

She shot all of them the dirtiest look before leading them further down the hall, glancing over at the distant arena. They were making good time, she'd admit that much. For all their yacking, at least they kept their legs moving. The king's champion was still wrecking havoc off in another portion of the castle. She'd say poor bastards but she didn't really feel bad for 'em. Nope, they were just necessary as part of the whole distraction.

She tsked as they rounded a corner, catching sight of the elevator at the far end. "Come on!" She yelled at them, picking up the pace as she moved quickly towards the exit. Finally, something GOOD to see. They'd be in that elvevator and through the portal where Liandre would be waiting for them. And then she could be shot of all these losers. No one said she had to take care of them once they entered into the parallel world, after all. She just had to get them there. That was the deal.

Pah. Morons, the whole load of them.

As they drew closer to the elevators, she grabbed a knife from a fallen guard and threw it in front of her to strike one of the remaining guards in the throat. Whether or not his death was instant, well, that didn't matter much, did it? The point was he was out of the way and she had little care for the rest. She just wanted her peace and quiet back. Ugh. She shouldn't have ever agreed to this, such a damn headache.

She took the key from around her neck that the princess had given her and pushed it into the slot, turning it until she heard the click. The doors creaked open and she darted inside, urgently gesturing to the others to follow. "C'mon, c'mon. You can chase skirts later, monk. All of ya, get inside the damn elevator so I can be rid of you sooner! And possibly save our hides if you're lucky." This day was FAR too long.

The setting changes from Resdreillhm Palace to Isallia

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Evelynn Character Portrait: Taran Mortair Character Portrait: Vier T'sker Character Portrait: Quinn Sari Character Portrait: Rakka Sukai
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Before The redheaded girl could answer, the one they were following interrupted. ”Hey Punks! This isn’t some random group date, keep it in your fucking pants! Aren’t you a monk?”

He had no idea what she was talking about. “I neither practice Asceticism, nor have I dedicated my life to serving others- with the exception of my master. And it is common knowledge that it is easier for a group to achieve a goal if all of the individuals work under a friendly cooperation. assure you, my goal is nothing more than survival through cooperation.” He answered rather confused as to what she was referring to. It did not help that she was clearly not listening to him although she had asked him a question. He would have continued if it were not for the incredibly nasty look she gave him. Looking down at his pants to see if anything important was sticking out, he looked to Vier. “What am I supposed to keep in my pants?”

He wanted to continue his conversation with the redhead girl, but he decided that it would be better not to further disrupt the little peace there was between he and the strange girl leading them. So instead, he smiled at the redhead girl apologetically. Seeing a few guards ahead of them, the girl in front yelled at them, “Come on!” while throwing a knife straight at one of the guards, the blade sticking in his throat. Strangely, she ignored the others standing ready to attack them.

Frowning inwardly, he quickly calculated. The lead girl was ignoring them, he was carrying a casualty and he hated to tell the other two girls to put their lives in danger. Now frowning outwardly, he said to the boy on his shoulder, “I apologize in advance for what is about to happen, friend. I have no intention to cause you discomfort.” Then calling out, “Vier, please cover me!” as he charged forward toward the remainder guards. He jumped up kicking one in the face breaking his nose and knocking him out. Using the man’s face as a springboard, he launched himself at another. Spinning around, he knocked the guard’s weapon away with one foot, then kicking him in the side of the face dislocating his jaw. His great weight easily pushed them around, while he still held back just enough to not kill them. Trusting that Vier and hopefully the other girl would take care of the rest, he continued forward, slowing down only to keep an eye on his new allies. He trusted that Vier alone could handle the rest, although he hoped that the redhead would help her, but he would feel terrible if he continued on to not help them if on the off chance that they were overtaken.

During the quick attack, he tried to move as smoothly as possible as to accommodate the winged boy on his shoulder. Well. As smoothly as one can jump and kick two people’s faces before touching the ground. “Are you quite alight? I did my best not to jostle you too much. I will set you down in the elevator so you can recover, if you would like.”

”C’mon, c’mon! you can chase the skirts later, monk.” The lead girl yelled at them from inside the elevator rather angrily. ”All of ya, get inside the damn elevator so I can be rid of you sooner! And possibly save our hides if you’re lucky!”

“I… I’m not a monk….” Taran said dejectedly. “And no one is even wearing skirts….” He grumbled under his breath while setting the boy down as gently as possible. Now that they were all in the elevator, he looked at the lead girl. "I am terribly sorry, friend, but have I done anything to offend you? If I have, I would like to apologize and assure you that I never had any intentions to do such. May I ask your name? I am called Taran."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Evelynn Character Portrait: Taran Mortair Character Portrait: Vier T'sker Character Portrait: Quinn Sari Character Portrait: Rakka Sukai
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Vier T'sker


The girl ahead of them erupted in a fit of anger, yelling at them and cursing about something that Vier didn't quite make out as she was a bit farther back. What she did manage to get though, was that most of her comments were directed at Taran who answered her and then upon not getting a reply looked back at Vier.

“What am I supposed to keep in my pants?”

Her cheeks brightened just a bit and her eyes widened slightly as she ran behind him. Vier shook her head quickly in response and shrugged, "I-I don't know..." she answered, completely embarrassed at the situation. As the one leading them threw a knife as she shouted for them to hurry, Vier's throat tightened. She really didn't want to fight again, but she figured it wasn't really something she could avoid. Besides, they were almost to freedom, or so she hoped.

The sharp edges in the cuffs of her wrist armor dug into her skin as she flicked her arms. The soft flesh, scarred and worn by the many times she'd done it, opened up easily enough. Blood trickled down her hands and she quickly formed it into the blades that she used to fight with.

“Vier, please cover me!”

She nodded and jumped into the fray. Her hands slashed outwards, fingers opened as she attacked the first guard that she could get to. She watched -and winced slightly- as Taran jumped and kicked a few of the guards down. She felt terrible for the winged boy that he held, knowing for certain that must have been more than a little uncomfortable. Twisting around she just barely avoided getting cut in half as one of the guards took a swipe at her exposed stomach. She repayed them the kindness by slashing open his face.

She turned on her heel, heart beating rapidly and rushed for the doors. She ducked in behind everyone else, just barely managing to avoid getting injured by any other guards. She turned to see Taran gently putting the boy down and bit her lip. He looked really pissed off. She wondered for a moment if she should say something to him... but then she thought better of it. Probably best to leave him alone.

But, what were they going to do when they had to pick him up again? There was no may he could walk on his own, not with his body battered the way it was. Vier winced at her next thought. If worse came to worse, she supposed she could just knock him out again...

Quinn Sari


“I apologize in advance for what is about to happen, friend. I have no intention to cause you discomfort.”

"Wait... wh-" Quinn started, but didn't manage to finish as the man named Taran shouted to the girl he'd been talking to earlier and abruptly jumped into the air. The movement itself didn't hurt Quinn, it was when Taran struck something -and hard too- that Quinn was jarred just slightly. He hissed in pain, hands clenching the cloth that was the man's shirt tightly. Taran used the one he'd just kicked and the room suddenly was a blur to Quinn.

It wasn't that he was unused to such things, for his flight patterns usually did the same thing. What bothered him was the second jarring attack and the fact that he wasn't in control of the situation at all. Thankfully it all was over rather quickly.

“Are you quite alight? I did my best not to jostle you too much. I will set you down in the elevator so you can recover, if you would like.”

Quinn grit his teeth, "Put... me... down," he hissed angrily.

Taran entered the elevator at the beckoning of the girl who led them. Once inside, he pulled Quinn off his shoulder and set him down slowly. As he was leaned against the wall, he reached around and gripped his side in a vain attempt to ease the pain of the broken ribs. He glowered at the people around him and moved his legs beneath him. He pushed against the wall with his back and started to stand. He only got part way when his legs gave out and he crumpled to the floor.

Dizziness and pain in both his wing and his chest caused him to drop. Perhaps he'd hit his head as well... Quinn sighed heavily as he slowly pushed himself back up into a sitting position. Great... this is just great he thought to himself grumpily.

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Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Evelynn Character Portrait: Taran Mortair Character Portrait: Vier T'sker Character Portrait: Quinn Sari
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She looked at the boy with a looked of exasperation as he cheerfully greeted her, though before she could construct a reply the moment was broken by the sound of that irritating brat who was apparently ‘leading’ them to safety. Most likely another string of unconnected pointless insults aimed at them, though it appeared to be primarily aimed at Taran. Referring to him as a monk by the sounds of it? Though the exact details were somewhat lost till he turned to this ’Veir’ and asked her about him keeping something in his pants.

Eve couldn’t help but grin and chuckle darkly at his innocence and even more at the reaction it brought out in the girl in response to his question, clearly embarrassed at his confusion and the implication of their ‘leaders’ insult. Though further retrospection of events was cut short as the girl ahead of them impaled a guard through the throat with an excellent, even Eve had to concede that, throw of a knife. It was the only good point she’d managed to find about the girl since they’d managed to break out of the arena, maybe another good point would be found should they actually escape. The girl then ducked past the other guards and using a key that hung round her neck opened the doorway at the end of the corridor onto what appeared to be an lift, before resuming her hail of abuse for them to hurry up and cease getting be

As the rest of them reached the group of stunned guards guarding the lift, she watched as Taran muttered what appeared to be an apology to the boy he was carrying, though for what she couldn’t tell at first. He then launched himself towards several of the guards, stunning them and knocking them to the floor where they remained, and it was when she saw the grimaces of pain flashing across the wounded boy that she realised why he’d been applogising moments earlier, an attempt to make up for what he’d needed to do. An odd one certainly, this Taran, to still be considerate and simple after being held here?

Moments later, her embarrassment forgotten the girl named Vier following Taran’s lead and lept into the fray. Her arms trickling blood but with no real sign of injury, let alone one to have causes the amount that was passing between her fingertips. As Vier reached the first of the guards Eve saw that the blood had formed into blades within her grip, slashing and cutting a path through those that stood in her way. As soon as the girl had dodged the first slash for her stomach and left the assailant with a vicious strike across his features Eve reached upto grip the pair of swords she now wore on her back but changed her mind as she began to run towards the group. Slipping her fingers into the pockets of her clothes she withdrew half a dozen pebbles and such that she’d picked up in the arena. After holding them close for a heartbeat or two she flicked her fingers outwards, sending small pulsing red stones towards a number of those between her and this purposed freedom. The stones exploded inches away from their targets, sending sharp shards of stone spearing into the faces of those unfortunate enough to be looking in her direction and embedding themselves in others. A few of the shards were still fainting pulsing for a few seconds more before detonating a second time, some of which ripped flesh from bone where they’d managed to lodge themselves.

The hallway was filled with faint ripples of fire, screams and blood as she ducked under the horrified guards that remained standing and pulled the door to the lift shut behind her as hard as she could.

Once inside she turned to take stock of what was happening, noticing that the injured boy was now grumbling as he lay on the floor with Taran speaking to him and their leader seemed as agitated as ever while Vier looked to be concerned for the boy as well. Shaking her head she looked towards the other girl, and cocking her head slight spoke to her.

“So, whats this great escape plan then? Now that we’re all inside the lift.” She smiled softly and began twirling one of the throwing daggers she’d hung around her belt in her right hand.