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Thomas Aefenleoht

"Would you like to see the ultimate Fan Service?"

0 · 380 views · located in Valderia

a character in “The Magic Hunters of Valderia”, originally authored by Nightblazer, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

“I assure, you, this show won’t disappoint, my dear fans. Fan Service is my motto, after all.”

Image
Name: Thomas Aefenleoht
Gender: Male
Age: 18
Race: Human (Solarian)

Physical Description: Stands at about 5’8”, which is a bit shorter than the average Solarian, but he cares little. Thomas has a cross-shaped scar upon his face, and is somewhat lightly toned with muscle. He wears pale yellow formal clothes, which are so unbelievably fancy that they speak volumes about his ego. His hair is short, but spikes out erratically.

Skin color: Lightly tanned—rather unusual for a Solarian, though, but then again, Thomas’ choices in aesthetics are…rather eccentric, to say the least.
Hair color: Supposed to be golden blond, but he dyed most of it dark red, leaving only the front portion its original color. Why he did this was apparently also part of his “Fan Service”.
Eye Color: Red irises, though some say they could see his left eye going purple at various points…

Occupation: Performer. He puts on shows using life-sized dolls that dance around the stage and act out dramas (though he needs help with dramas if voices are required, because he’s not the best voice actor).

Bio: The middle of three brothers, Thomas Aefenleoht took an interest in theater arts at a young age. Seeing a fantasy world on a stage always seemed magical and dream-like to him, and he quickly decided he wanted to try and imitate that.

Though his parents and older brother did not approve at first, they eventually gave in and allowed him to start trying out for drama clubs and take classes on the theater. Eventually, Thomas decided he wanted to try out puppet shows, but to his delight, when he discovered his magic, he realized just how well he could control those dolls…and the rest is history.

Nowadays, Thomas travels around Valderia, and has many, many admirers and fans. He always greets them happily and enthusiastically, and puts on his best performance no matter what. Thanks to him, the Aefenleoht family has become rather rich, and Thomas’ success rate does not seem to be dropping any time soon.

On an unrelated note, the other Aefenleoht siblings have rather strange interests as well. Thomas’ younger brother, Michael, is a rather obsessive history nut, and uses his Earth Magic in tandem with some artifacts he found to bring them to life. His older brother, Chris, is more interested in the stars and traversing other planets, and is currently working (and not doing well) on a craft capable of space travel.

Home Nation: Solarian Empire
Home City: Aberconway

Personality: Always standing tall and proud, Thomas is very popular amongst people various tribes for not only his brilliant and mysterious performances, but also his attitude. Rather than greeting and speaking to each and every one of his fans as though they are simply admirers, he instead talks to them in a warm and casual voice, as though he is speaking to his own family.

Almost always without fail, Thomas makes his way to every outing on time (unlike a certain over-popular singer his friends convinced him to see in his childhood that showed up three hours late to a concert on a school night), and appears at every special event he can. Perhaps his almost-constant bragging about his “Fan Service” is justified, as such. Of course, he has the tendency to act rather childish at times when someone is “ruining” his performances, and is very prideful of his puppets and popularity.

Lately, however, people have noticed that he’s been acting rather frustrated and sad at times, but when they ask him, he simply puts his public face back on and waves off their concern, insisting he is alright.

Likes: Puppets (of course), tea, complex yet small machinery, trying on excessively fancy clothes, impressing/pleasing his fans, making more puppets
Dislikes: Physics, astronomy, people who just won’t shut up while he’s performing, people who insult his puppets, generally anything that “ruins” his Fan Service

Skills and Abilities:
Non-Combat: Has a fair amount of knowledge of mechanical engineering and sewing, as he needs these skills to keep his puppets and their adornments in good condition.
Combat: Is good at acrobatics and somewhat fast, allowing him to get out of range of attacks.

Equipment & Weapons: Thomas has amassed a collection of many puppets of wood, cloth, and metal over the years. Despite being for performances only, they are surprisingly durable, and are very life-like, allowing him to imitate humans with little difficulty. He also has a bracelet with a violet gem, which he mainly uses to communicate with his family, instead of using phones or mail. However, it also serves the purpose of augmenting his magic from an outside source.

Other than that, there has reportedly been a rather frightening-looking miniature horse in his studio that is made out of parts of humanoid dolls. Why he would have such a grotesque puppet is anyone’s guess, but perhaps there is more to this performer than what he shows on stage…

Magic: No one is quite sure what Thomas’ magic is, but all that is known is that he uses it to control his puppets’ movements without actually touching them, or having strings attached, or anything, really. He appears to be able to control up to 5 puppets at one time with rather life-like motions; they even are capable of acting as soldiers for him, being able to handle weapons such as swords and spears.

So how does he do it? Well, if you ask him, he’ll simply wink and state “That, my dear friend, is a trade secret. Were I to tell it to you, there would be no more meaning to my Fan Service.”

So begins...

Thomas Aefenleoht's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Adris Dasul Character Portrait: VPS-GWF3: Gainsboro Twelve
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June 21--10:52 AM
Kergstien, Solarian Empire


“Attention, all living members of the intelligent races!" In the midst of the heated fighting, Thomas diverted just a small amount of his attention to hear the message. "Due to the presence of a dark cult, the city has been sealed off and placed under quarantine. All gates have been sealed, and a magical barrier has been placed around the city, preventing any other means of conventional escape. That being said, there will be an escape vessel arriving at the central train station within thirty minutes. Due to the violent nature of the cult, the train will not be able to stay for very long; therefore, we recommend that all survivors make their way to the central station as quickly as possible."

The puppeteer was about to just make a mental note to get to the station as quickly as possible and return to battle, but then another part of the message came: "To all hunters and contractees, protocol twenty-four has been invoked and the Solarians will be handling the extermination. Utmost caution is recommended against all cultists, and it is best to avoid to engagement. And remember, it isn't dead if the body is still there.”

Thomas froze. Immediately, his eyes darted back to the streets that he and Michael had cleared of cultists. They were now empty. The cultists had went off to find more targets! "Shit," Thomas growled, before glancing back at the cultists he was fighting--and stepped back in horror, for they were starting to mutate, and doubled their size and muscle build in a grotesque fashion. Now, they were towering over Thomas!

Out of options at the moment, the puppeteer turned on his heel and ran away, his puppets following him while flying backwards to defend him. The least he could do was check back on where his fans had gone.

--------------------------

At the same time, Michael was still running towards the cultists approaching the building upon which the exhausted man with the guns was standing, when arcs of lightning burst through the crowd and downed the entire hoard. Looking up in surprise, Michael saw the robot which he had been sitting next to before the chaos happened towering above them.

First, though, the cultists had to be dealt with. Calling the greenish-gray golem closer, Michael commanded him to smash through the cultists' bodies while they were paralyzed, and he himself began lifting the stones around them and pelting the cultists with them. In a short time--the robot may or may not have been involved in killing them, but Michael hadn't had any attention to spare--the hoard was slain. "We survived it," Michael sighed, mopping his forehead.

He was about to try speaking to the robot, when suddenly, the broadcast played throughout the city. "Wait...we didn't actually-?!" As Michael was saying this, the cultists were standing up all around them with malevolent grins, and brandished their weapons with even greater fervor. And this time, he and the robot were caught in the middle of the storm, so they were in a much worse position than before. Worse, some cultists were entering the building, licking their lips hungrily...

Michael himself was gazing at the building, wondering if he could scale it properly. But it's so tall...it's not likely I'll be able to get there before the cultists do. However, he had to try to reach the man with the guns. "Listen!" he told the robot. "I'm going up there to try and save the man up there. Please, hold your own here, or get to safety; this golem shall help you."

With those words said, he took one step forward and caused the stones under his feet to abruptly shoot upwards, like a compressed spring, launching himself at the face of the building. Carefully timing, he grasped one of the stones that made up the building and manipulated it to elongate outwards, giving himself enough of a handhold to keep climbing.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Adris Dasul Character Portrait: VPS-GWF3: Gainsboro Twelve
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Soon enough, Adris would be woken up by all the noise. Even the weak couldn’t have a rest. It is still better than him being unconscious and eaten alive. Although, before he could really function, he had only one thing in his mind; water. What living on land taught him is that he’ll have a greater thirst than many, many beings would have. In the ocean it wasn’t that bad, since he was surrounded with water, but on land, it is harder to live. Fortunately, he always had his pouch of water. He would take it out of his belt as he stood up, taking a good sip of it. He felt the liquid running down from his mouth, feeling a regain in his senses.

His joy was abruptly stopped with a mass that hold him down to the ground. His pouch was throw back near the edge of the roof. The cultist that pounced on Adris would then take a deep bite into Shark’s shoulder, ripping off a huge chunk of his coat and his skin. Adris let out a scream of pain just by that. He would quickly took out his second gun and place it in the cultist’s mouth as it was taking a second bite, and pulled the trigger. Fortunately enough, the bullet made the spinal cord amongst with a chuck of the flesh of the cultist fly off. The cultist would soon fell down to the ground, burning in a green flame.

Adris panted as he felt his own warm blood flow down of his shoulder. He would quickly retrieve both of his other gun and the pouch, taking the few last drops of the liquid to sip it and concentrate to heal his skin back on his shoulder. It left a big bruise still, but it was better than nothing. When he was done, he noticed that more cultist was on top of the roof. He quickly draw his guns at them, both of them staying still.

He was in a dilemma. Adris was now standing on the very edge of the roof, with the cultists in his firing range. He wondered why him better than the others. Maybe it was because he was still on the ground, unconscious, or that he was the last meal available in town. However, it crossed in his mind that they didn’t attack yet. They weren’t as dumb as he would thought of. However, why they wait him to let his guard down? He had no idea. He would then thought they would ruin his flesh by being crushed down. They also could die with him, right?

He would swallow hard. He hard enough bullets for every single one of them, but he didn’t take the risk. He would quickly turn; there was no way around. He had to jump despite the height of the building. And he let his body fall down, only to notice a young boy vaulting the building. He shouted at him, trying to catch his attention. With his increasing falling speed, he wondered if the boy would will be able to help him. If anything, he was in a good position to land.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Adris Dasul Character Portrait: Spotface Character Portrait: VPS-GWF3: Gainsboro Twelve
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June 21--10:53 AM
Kergstien, Solarian Empire


The situation really was getting no better, no matter where Thomas ran. The behemoth cultists were still following him, so he couldn't check up on where his fans were taking refuge. And the train station was equally off-limits, because endangering that many people was just stupid. He glanced back to make sure he was a safe distance away.

Really, there was nothing Thomas could do now. He had one last weapon in store, inside his puppet box...If I use THAT puppet, though, the terror and destruction I'd cause... Gritting his teeth, he decided to buy more time to plan a counterattack, and darted into a back alley, hoping the monster cultists would lose him.

But he could tell a moment later that it was a useless endeavor, for a goblin was conveniently rushing across the roof of one of the buildings right next to him. And, as it turned out, the cultists were glancing hungrily towards him AND the goblin.

--------------------------

Michael had hardly climbed for more than a minute before he suddenly saw, with absolute confusion and shock, that the man with the guns was hurling himself off the building. Wha...WHAT?! I don't even...

The man let out a shout that Michael could not hear properly, but he knew it was directed at him. Bracing his feet against the side of the building, he waited for the man to fall just half a meter above his line of vision, before launching himself through the air and catching him. His other hand extended and caught the wall of the edifice on the other side of the street--thankfully, it was concrete, so he could manipulate it in order to get a better grip. "Don't worry, sir," he told the man, trying to keep his voice calm sounding. "We'll be able to get out of this safely."

Glancing down, however, he could see his golem was not holding well against the cultists. The robot could possibly be doing better, but there were too many enemies down there for Michael to descend to street level. Was there a safe way out? He could try leaping from wall to wall, but that would put a strain on his weak muscles--already, holding this middle-aged man was rather hard for him. Hope one of you has a plan, he thought as he glanced at both of his impromptu allies.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Spotface Character Portrait: Hugo Tyrus Character Portrait: Val
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As Val dodged through cultists falling to the ground, then reforming into more terrible things, he heard a voice from somewhere, talking about some protocol or another. That part didn't really make sense to him. The shouting man afterwards, telling them all to get to a train station, was more clear.

Val had already had to leave the civilians behind, the cultists were too numerous for him to stay anywhere for long. As the cultists became larger, hulking masses of flesh, Val became more nervous. He hadn't faced anything that large before...

Korvan hopped into his head, snapping him out of it. Val put his staff on his back and began to run on all fours towards the train station, trying to weave through the masses. He passed a great many of the fighters in the square, and ended up on a slightly clearer street. Had he looked up, he would have seen a goblin and a man with a penchant for "fan service". However, Val was not going to look up, focusing on evading the cultists (and failing to remember that he had no idea where the train station was).

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Maleki Character Portrait: Spotface
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#, as written by Subtle
“Goblin! Come here, quick!”

Hearing this shout from down below surprised him, and he landed awkwardly on the corner of the next rooftop, spinning 'round to look out over the street he'd almost bounced past. He wiped absent-mindedly at the tears and blood caked on his face, discovering--with no small amount of dread--that some cultists, now even more monstrous in size and gory features, were eyeing him and the puppetmaster from before. Skittering further down the roof, he saw the source of the shout--the troll from the GMHO booth. The guy had a gaggle of civvies with him, many fighting alongside him, but all noticeably nervous. Seeing that the cultists would soon have hoisted themselves on to his rooftop, he grappled over to the wall just above the troll's band of civilians.

Smiling sheepishly, he said to the troll, "Heh.. You and I both know I'm the last guy you want fighting alongside you," and, turning to the small group of mothers and children, he continued, more softly, "but you lot are doing a great job so far! We're fairly close to the station, aren't we?" A young woman, either an older sister or a young mother, nodded first, and gave a meek smile. "I'll tell you what I'll do, then. I'll be a decoy, and lead these nasties away as best I can. Work with these strong and resourceful folks (he said, gesturing at the would-be magic hunters), and you'll be on that train in no time." The group of women and children seemed to stand a little straighter, the fighters nodding to each other.

With as brave a grin as he could manage, he leapt to the ground and ran straight for the group of mutants ahead. between the grappling shots and his jumping boots, he managed to dodge between feet and dance 'round blows and punches as the cultists wildly lunged for him. Being small does have its advantages... As he jumped and zipped just out of reach, he began to yell whatever insults came to mind, cursing their god and mocking them at every turn. The group had sidled around the first corner when one of the cultists' blows connected, sending Spotface flying across the street. Fine, but entirely winded, he gave a weak smile to the group, and staggered on, leading the cultists further down the street, and away from the growing stream of people working their way to the station. How long do I have to make it back to the train? He wondered... the he burst into laughter. What he'd give that moment for a pocketwatch...

Setting

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Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Adris Dasul Character Portrait: VPS-GWF3: Gainsboro Twelve
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"Listen! I'm going up there to try and save the man up there. Please, hold your own here, or get to safety; this golem shall help you." While a nice gesture of the garish fellow, Gainsboro hadn’t a sliver of interest on running on his own. He came here to help the man he saw on the roof, and that’s what he would do, in one way or another. It was a good thing though that the majority of the mutated cultists split of the group, presumably towards the station. Which in hindsight wasn’t good at all in the long run. Rummaging in his slingbag for the upteenth time today, he retrieved two of his electro packs, leaving him with one of them left. He pressed both of the packs against the connectors on the opposite sides of his neck. The red lights coming from Gainsboro’s faceplate winked out, and were replaced by a fitful yellow light. The extraction of both charges went by fast, and the fitful lightning was quickly replaced by its prior dominant, red glow. Stuffing the now chargeless packs back in his bag, he drew a sword in each hand.”Get that man to safety comrade, i’ll try to hold off these abominations along side your golem!

The man did not wait for Gainsboro to finish talking and, through his terramancy launched himself up against the wall. Brandishing his swords, Gainsboro rapidly swung his blades at a nearby cultist, cutting through appendages. However, they reattached themselves just as fast as it took him to cut through them. The nearby cultists didn’t sit still, coming with attacks of their own aimed at Gainsboro and the golem. Fast and hard, their strikes came from unorthodox angles and rained down upon him. He blocked and parried what he could, and directed any towards his pauldrons or wristguard, or any other well armored part of him with irregular precision. However, he soon slipped up.

In an almost coordinated fashion, the cultists he had been fending off, all struck at once. Except one. That one waited till gainsboro was in the middle of blocking and struck. The axe, held upside down struck him in his upper torso in a upward arc. The blade dug deep into his chest, and was wrenched out if it subsequently, leaving a deep gouge. It was then that Gainsboro’s calm state of mind left him, and was replaced, not by fear, but by intense anger. Anger directed towards the cultists, with their fiendishly broad grins, and eyes that mocked him so.

Staccato lightning sprang from the rend as the core dispersed more energy throughout the body, giving off a thrum, becoming evermore audible. His swings came faster and faster, until they became like a blur. However, while his movements were undoubtedly faster and carried more weight, they lacked the fluidity and unnatural precision they had before. The swings were wild, and he himself was full of openings, which the abominations eagerly took advantage of. By the time Gainsboro managed to slay one of the cultists through total decimation of his head, his frame was filled with pock marks and gouges. A solid blow to the head with a rather large looking mace, caved the right side of his head in, and flung him into the wall of the building the terramancer had been climbing.

His head, due to the blow was wrenched to left, and as he tried to make sense of his surroundings and in his attempt to adjust to the loss of sight in his right, he noted something.
There was a bicycle with a carrier on the back, leaning against the building, without a lock.
Still angered, and not fully in control of his emotions he shouted towards the young fellow.
Kid, get your self and that fucker on that bicycle, and pedal as fast as you can towards the train station! Don’t worry, i’ll be able to keep up on foot. We have to make sure we get there before those cockmonglers can amass there!”

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Adris Dasul Character Portrait: Spotface Character Portrait: VPS-GWF3: Gainsboro Twelve
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June 21--10:56 AM
Kergstien, Solarian Empire

The puppeteer watched with an awed expression as the goblin who had been on the roof earlier ran off, getting the cultists to follow him. "Okay, I've gotta admit, that guy has guts," he muttered. Against his survival instincts, however, he decided it might be a wise idea to follow the goblin, in case he needed help.

And sure enough, he saw the goblin getting punched by one of the monstrous cultists. Oh, shit. Though Thomas panicked, he soon realized the goblin had survived and was still walking...but he hadn't gotten away completely unscathed, no. "I hope the guy can hold his own long enough for me to get there," Thomas muttered, preparing his own strategy.

Raising his hand, he pointed at his two remaining puppets, which were practically nothing but tattered cloth and scrap metal by now, and had them help him get to the rooftop. From there, Thomas sprinted along, following the incredibly fast goblin and his monstrous pursuers. As long as I have a clear view of the goblin, it'll be okay...

----------------------------------------------

Michael nearly lost his grip on the stones when the robot was flung into the wall with tremendous force. At a second glance, he was horrified by how much damage the robot had taken. "Oh, no..." he whispered to himself.

Before he could feel too guilty about it, though, the robot urged him to go to the train station, bringing Michael's attention to a bicycle leaning against the very building they were hanging on. That...didn't look very welcoming, especially not with the cultists getting closer. "There's got to be a better way," Michael muttered, but he had no time to think about it, for the robot was starting to fall back towards ground level.

Scanning the area for something he could use, Michael remembered the golem, and saw that it was still working, but crippled--its torso was cracked in many places, and its leg was completely missing. "That's it!" Michael declared, a bright gleam of excitement in his eyes. It was a really strange idea, but if he did it just right...

Reaching out with his mind, he caused several parts of the concrete building and sidewalk to move at once--he blasted himself, the man with the guns, and the robot towards the crowd of cultists. Just before they could make contact, however, he willed his golem to spring off the ground and shove them out of reach with the last of its power. At the very same time, the bicycle was blasted forward, and with Michael's momentum, he managed to land right on top of it.

The robot somehow landed on his feet, just as Michael deposited the man with the guns in the carrier. "Are you really going to be able to walk like that?" Michael asked worriedly, looking over the robot's mangled body. As he pondered, he noticed the cultists were starting to move again. "Oh, dear. I don't think we have enough time to worry about this; we'll just have to wing it!"

Without warning, Michael's golem exploded in a shower of green-gray shards of stone. Meanwhile, the earth underneath the robot and the bicycle burst upwards, catapulting them forward and giving them a good headstart. Though he wasn't very athletic, Michael kept pedaling as hard as he could, looking over his shoulder every now and then to make sure the robot wasn't lagging behind too much.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Adris Dasul Character Portrait: VPS-GWF3: Gainsboro Twelve
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Adris was kind of surprised that the kid was able to hold him despite from his lack of apparent muscular mass. He wasn’t quite surprised of his powers to control earth since of his own being. "Don't worry, sir, we'll be able to get out of this safely." The kid said with a calm voice. Or at least, he tried. Adris knew it that it won’t be an easy task; there was cultist everywhere. From everywhere he was trying to look, he could see cultist. That, and blood, everywhere. He would then notice some kind of robot pointing out that there was a bicycle. He was right, but the attempt was quite risky. Although, he didn’t have any choice as they were catapulted by the kid’s earth powers. Adris would land into the basket and they were given another head start on the cultists. He knew, however, it wasn’t enough.

Adris looked around as he wondered what could he do to help; he had no water on him, and the only thing he could notice is blood. Blood, blood and blood. And sometimes things that was left by the people. He sighed a bit, then came an idea to his mind; he knew that blood was mostly made of water. Adris would give a thought for a second, deeming that the situation required such intervention. He lifted his hand as he would start to gather water from the blood. It dried up in front of them, but not enough to hinder the kid’s pedalling. He would then looked back at the kid, saying: “Don’t worry and continue to pedal. I’ll caught up with you soon.” He said as he jumped down from the carrier, letting the water lifting him as he quickly positioned himself behind the robot and the cultists.

He bit under his breath as he drank some of the water, flinching at the taste. It gave him more energy as he started to both gather water and use it. He would manipulate the water so it would take the form of blades as they solidify in a perfect ice. He would then throw the ice at them, often hitting in the head, which he noted was more effective than just randomly. Some of them was bright enough to dodge the hit. He made sure to gather more water than he used, keeping a mask of water over his mouth to drink from it. He noticed that it was more physically demanding that most of the time.

Soon, when he gathered enough water, he would do a second wipe, but only using one half of the gather water. Of course, it wasn’t as impressive as the last one, but it was enough to take the cultist few steps back behind, and often make them trip and lose their speed. Once he was done, he accelerated to place himself between the kid and the robot, using the other half to create a fragmented dome around them. It would be a huge stream of water flowing around in a dome like manner. It would be powerful enough to punch through flesh and even maybe muscle. The stream flowed at an incredible speed for that. He kept on gathering water, screaming to the kid despite the mask of water over his mouth.

“I don’t know where we have to go, but just take us there!”

As so, he would follow the kid, looking back to make sure that the other one wasn’t hit be the dome of water. He knew that he couldn’t hold it forever. It started to hurt his head quite a lot, and the energy gain from drinking the water wasn’t enough to compensate the energy used for the dome of water and the small jets of water helping him for his running.. He knew that soon or later, he’ll have to let everything down, and he might pass out against. For now, one thing was clear in his mind; get out of this farce.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Adris Dasul Character Portrait: VPS-GWF3: Gainsboro Twelve
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As he ran, Gainsboro kept looking back over his left shoulder, keeping an eye on his pursuers.
They were still following behind him and the two on the bike, but with the young lad paddling through various streets, he managed to lose a good chunk as he went through various streets. Even though it might have been excessive, he sweeped his left eye continuously back and forth, since he didn’t wanted to be blindsided by cultists.

It ended up paying off, however not in the way he had expected. As he turned his back towards the front, he saw the man, whom the young man and he himself had saved but a scant few minutes ago, hopped of the baggage carrier, and with articulate gestures, started gathering water around himself, garnered from the pools of blood, that hath flown from their previous owners.

He ran past Gainsboro, and with the water that flowed around him he created several frozen projectiles which he fired at the cultists. He followed that up with a wave of water- which rolled through the street, crashing into a great deal of their pursuers.
With the water he had left, he created a dome of fast moving water that surrounded himself, which somehow made him move a bit faster than before. However, it was still no where near the speed they were going while he sat on the bike. In contrary, the three of them had significantly slowed down to such an extent, that it wouldn't take long for the cultists to catch up with them.

This man definitely wasn't thinking clearly. Another issue was the fact that the man had fallen unconscious not that long ago, and was physically exerting himself a lot, which couldn't be good. They weren't sure what to expect at the station either, so they might need his skills then.

Weighing his options, Gainsboro came to the conclusion that he'd have to carry the man. He seemed far too prideful to listen
When told to sit on the bike, and would likely just hop off the carrier and continue walking. With a groan and mild reluctance, he had thrust both arms through the dome. He quickly wrapped an arm under his lower back, and another under his knee pits before lifting him in a tight, and secure hold, much akin to a bridal carry.

"Save your magic tricks for later, we might need them when we get to the station." He told the man. He might be feeling uncomfortable and a bit embarrassed, but Gainsboro cared not, as he ran once more, after the bycicle, through and out of various streets.

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Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Adris Dasul Character Portrait: Spotface Character Portrait: VPS-GWF3: Gainsboro Twelve
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June 21--10:52 AM
Kergstien, Solarian Empire


"I don't think I've got any time left," Thomas muttered, glancing between the goblin and the mutated titans. He could barely keep up with them, even though he was taking every shortcut he could across the skyline of Kergstien. It was evident he'd need to get the goblin out of there as quickly as possible.

With a few motions of his hands, Thomas sent his puppets towards the goblin, praying they wouldn't suddenly break into pieces. Just as one of the monsters made a strike, the puppeteer barely managed to use his minions to carry the goblin out of the way and up to the rooftops. Thomas was about to breath a sigh of relief, when he realized that indeed one of the arms of the dolls was breaking.

"Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap!" he hissed, frantically trying to make his puppets get a better grip on the goblin while bringing them closer. At the same time, the cultists noticed his actions and lunged for the puppets in midair. Horrified and out of ideas, Thomas could only watch with wide eyes and a held breath...

Perhaps he wouldn't have panicked so much if he had remembered the goblin used grappling hooks earlier to elude the titans.

------------------------------

When the man in the black suit jumped off the carrier, Michael looked back in confusion and shock. "Wait, what are you--?!" he demanded, hand reaching for the brake.

It wasn't long, however, before the man began to sweep their nightmarish pursuers with powerful water magic, and Michael could only watch with a dumbstruck expression. This was just getting stranger and stranger...but honestly, with the dome of water flowing around their group, that man had most of his bases covered.

Or, he would be, if he didn't look like he was going to collapse...which was probably why the robot rushed in and started carrying him, catching up to Michael quickly. The pink-haired boy smiled and nodded to them, glad they had managed to catch up. Then he turned around, and got treated to something rather embarrassing and gross.

A manhole had been uncovered, and Michael had not been paying attention at all. He and the bicycle dropped into the manhole, the pink-haired boy screaming at the top of his lungs as he did so. There was a splash, and Michael found himself in some foul-smelling water. "Ugh," he muttered, standing up and feeling incredibly foolish, not to mention disgusted by his predicament.

Up above, the cultists' feet scraped against the roads with sharp noises. Hopefully, the robot and the man with the guns had gotten away; as was, though, Michael couldn't get back to the surface with the monsters there. At least they weren't descending into the manhole. Trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of having wet and dirty clothes, Michael began to walk through the sewers, hoping he'd get lucky and go in the right direction. "Honestly, it's a labyrinth down here, for God's sake..."

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Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Kai Ember Character Portrait: Valar Karackson Character Portrait: Lucious Marder
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Kai Ember~
Kai was just as surprised as Valar when the Elf-like man caught up to them. Even in the chaos he moved quickly and quietly.
"Hellfire, where'd you come from?" Valar said. Anyways, doesn't matter, we think the train station is this way. At least that's the direction everyone seems to be running in. If you've got a gun and can shoot we need you with us. We were just gonna head right for the station, blow up anything that's in our direct path and try and get out of here alive. But given that I have no experience with this type of osik, I'm more than welcoming suggestions at the moment."
Needless to say, Kai didn't have much experience with rabid bloodthirsty mutating cultists either.
She had come into this city hoping for an adventure, for an escape from the mediocrity of her life. She thought she had been ready for this. Why had she though she was ready? Because she could throw a mean left hook and had won a few bar fights? Kai wanted to go back in time and slap herself for her arrogance. She wasn't ready for this. In fact, she was terrified.
She swallowed it hard. She pushed the fear away and kept her cool. Just as she was about to take off again for what she hoped was the direction of the station, she heard a clatter, a loud scream, shortly followed by a faint splash. She looked sharply off in the direction of the sound.
There was an uncovered manhole in the street, and she looked just in time to see the blur of a bicycle and a flash of pink hair fall into the hole.
Wait- a manhole. An idea suddenly occurred to her.
She darted for the hole, gesturing for Valar and Lucious to follow. She swung her legs inside the manhole and scurried down the ladder just in time to see the pink haired kid with the bicycle get up out of the putrid water and begin to walk away.
"Oi! Mr. Pink-hair!" She called, not knowing his name. "Wait for us!"

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Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Kai Ember Character Portrait: Valar Karackson Character Portrait: Lucious Marder
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Image






Maybe such a sneaky approach wasn't the best idea after all. The nord spun and leveled his weapon at Lucious, but when he seemed to realize that he wasn't a cultist, he lowered the rifle. "Hellfire, where'd you come from? Anyways, doesn't matter, we think the train station is this way. At least that's the direction everyone seems to be running in. If you've got a gun and can shoot we need you with us. We were just gonna head right for the station, blow up anything that's in our direct path and try and get out of here alive. But given that I have no experience with this type of osik, I'm more than welcoming suggestions at the moment."

"Think?" But before Lucious could reply, his thought were interrupted by a man's scream followed by a splash. Lucious jerked his head towards the direction of the noise to see something fall inside a open manhole. Suddenly, the Teker girl gestured for Lucious and the nord to follow her as she disappeared inside the manhole herself.

Lucious hesitated, but the motivation of the mutated cultist tearing apart multiple bodies not too far from where he was was enough for Lucious to follow. As he made his way down the ladder the putrid stench became very prominent and Lucious could barely keep his stomach. As he reached the bottom he heard the Teker girl shout, "Oi! Mr. Pink-hair! Wait for us!" As Lucious looked around to try and get his bearings of the place, he soon realized that the lighting down here was in fact, very poor. "Nothing a little magic can't fix." His eyesight began to lighten up, as if someone was slowly turning on the lights.

He soon caught up with the Teker girl, and gestured to wait for the nord. The reassurance of his gigantic build, not to mention his weaponry would be nice to have.

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Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Kai Ember Character Portrait: Valar Karackson Character Portrait: Lucious Marder
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#, as written by Legate
Valar turned back from the street he had been covering to see everyone jumping down a manhole. Not quite sure what was going on but well aware that the streets were no place to be caught out by himself he ran over to join them. He dropped into the hole catching himself on the edge with one hand. Still holding himself in the air by one hand he swept the tunnel with his rifle in the other. Finding it clear of threats he allowed himself to drop down to the sewer. All of a sudden he heard barking up above and he called out. "Chester, CHESTER! Here boy." An enormous dog came running and jumped down the hole right into Valars arms. Then he reached up and arm straining pulled the grate closed over them sealing them into the preternatural gloom of the sewer.

Their party had seemingly acquired a new member while they were on the run but Valar couldn't worry about that right now. He squinted around to try and see but was having a hard time of it. However he suddenly noticed the skinny elf casting some sort of cantrip and his vision began to lighten up.

"Thanks" he said as he walked past him to the front of the group. He put his hand on the small girls shoulder giving it a comforting squeeze as he removed his pistol from his belt. He turned to face her holding out the gun, even though it was a pistol it looked huge for her hands. "Do you know how to use one of these?" he asked her, she looked up at him and nodded. "Good, stay right behind me one hand on my shoulder, person behind you has one hand on your shoulder, the last thing we want is to get separated down here." He checked his compass, lined up and he heard the girl passing on his advice. Then a small warm hand settled on his shoulders. It was time to move out. He signaled Chester to take the lead knowing the dogs nose would be able to sniff out cultists before they could. "Oya Chester, let's hunt" he muttered to himself as he moved off in a shooters crouch.

[hr] [/hr]

It was slow going having to move carefully, checking each corner they had no idea where there could be cultists, but they had found a rythm and started to pick up speed. He didn't know how far they'd come but it was time to check where they were. He held up a closed fist signalling the others to stop and removed a grate from the ceiling. He knelt and cupped his hands, gesuting that the girl should step in so he could lift her up and check. Hopefully she saw good things.

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Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Spotface
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#, as written by Subtle
Being honest, the puppet show really hadn't been all that interesting to him the first time. He'd seen a Harlequinn sister of his do some similar tricks with, as far as Spotface was concerned, a little more flair... but as they worked with him to distract and fight these monsters, he plainly appreciated this second performance. "I have to hand it to you... Thomas, was it? These puppets are damned-" he stopped to leap just out of the arc of a wicked looking cleaver, "-wonderful devices, and you move them masterfully!" Considering how taxing it was getting to duck and weave out of the rapid blows and savage swipes raining down from the cultists, especially as he discovered how tireless the hoard of them seemed to be, Spotface was dimly aware that he was wasting valuable effort and concentration on chatting with his new-found ally, when the action could probably be saved for some other, decisively less dire situation. Something about the gravity of the situation compelled him to talk and laugh as though being surrounded by giant, angry, murderous madmen out to stomp him into paste was an everyday chore. Come to think of it, though, that does sound about right... But he was a little too woozy and tired to know better at this point. Dying for being too nice and cheerful isn't such a bad way to go, right? I can't let a silly little thing like massively painful bodily injury stop me from having some fun... Gods, what am I even thinking? What a wreck of a day. I need to get out of here.

Somersaulting backward from a pair of nasty-looking behemoths, he barely had enough time to duck and roll as another one swung wide with a long knife. Bounding from spot to spot, pain suddenly radiated out from his left ear; he discovered, by reaching up squeamishly, that one of them had managed to cut off the tip, and now it hurt like hell as blood splattered out in weak but constant trickle.

It was then that the puppets moved in, sweeping the goblin away in their arms and up to the rooftops, saving him just as a cultist had snuck up on him. Though the puppet struggled to hold his weight as its arm started to rip, the puppet had lifted Spotface out of the tight mob of cultists, which not only meant that he had the time and space to breathe, but could shoot his grappling shots without it landing in a tall pillar of flesh and ugly. He wasn't sure if he should thank Thomas or the puppet (the way they moved, it was creepily real), so he gave the puppet a reassuring pat on the back as he shakily dropped onto his feet, and gave Thomas a wave before grappling over in his direction. "I'd say it's time we ran for our lives to the station, no?" Spotface yelled down to him from the roofs.

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Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Spotface Character Portrait: Hugo Tyrus
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June 21--10:53 AM
Kergstien, Solarian Empire


Somehow, the goblin managed to get away from the behemoths, and landed gracefully (yes, "gracefully" and "goblin" rarely go together in one's mind, for whatever reason) behind Thomas, on the rooftops. The puppeteer was rather surprised, but overall glad he had gotten to safety. "You were pretty damned wonderful there yourself, you know," he replied, with the best grin he could manage in their situation. "You've definitely got more guts than I did, luring away those monster bastards on your lonesome."

Still, they definitely did need to get back to the station, and the titans were not far behind. Thomas glanced around and located the train station, thanks to being on the rooftops, and was about to say that they should go in that direction...when he remembered the puppet that was still in the box, back in the central square. He had to recover it.

"Hey, goblin--and please do tell me your name when we get a breather--I'm sorry, but I've got to trouble you again." He pointed towards the central square, which was abandoned now. Even the childishly written "Super Awesome Magic Hunters Recruitment" sign was on the ground, neglected. "I need to get something back from the central square. Do you feel like coming with me and having a dance with death again?"

He figured the goblin wanted to bail at that point, but it would be painful as hell to go alone.

---------------------------------

Michael thought he heard someone calling out to him, but he did not have much time to think about it before he heard movement directly behind him. The next moment, there was a savage hiss, and he felt a hand yank on his ankle, trying to pull him back into the filth.

Frantically, the pink-haired boy kicked away with the same foot, but it didn't seem to be working. As a last ditch effort, he threw out his hand, and the stones beneath them jutted upwards in spikes, impaling his attacker. Taking the chance, Michael freed himself from his enemy's grip and dashed down the tunnels, disappearing into them.

However, he soon heard the cultist approaching from behind, and getting much closer. He dared to glance backwards once, and was immediately treated to the sight of two knives flying towards him. Quickly, the boy threw himself into the water flowing by their feet, and rolled out of the way before the cultist could pounce.

Jumping up again, Michael raised his right arm, and the gem on the bracelet flashed. "Get lost!" he ordered, and the stones softened underneath the cultist before solidifying again, directly over him. After making sure the prison was secure, Michael turned on his heel, and continued to run as fast as he could away from the cultist before he could break free.

He had not run for very long, though, before he suddenly found himself coming face-to-face with a tall man. The boy's first instinct was to jump back and prepare to strike, but he realized it was the Huntsmaster from before in a few seconds, and awkwardly forced himself not to go acting like a battle-happy amateur. "Ah...hello, sir. Didn't think I'd be meeting you here of all places," he commented, a little lost for words. "So, do you know your way out? I'm afraid I'm a bit lost...someone left a manhole open, and I fell in while running from the cultists."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Kai Ember Character Portrait: Adris Dasul Character Portrait: Valar Karackson Character Portrait: Lucious Marder Character Portrait: VPS-GWF3: Gainsboro Twelve
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If Gainsboro’s face plate were to able to show emotions, this would be one of those times.
Right after he spotted the cycling lad tumble into an open manhole, a ragtag group of three and a dog also jumped into it, and promptly closed it off. He wanted to open it again and follow after them, but had no time as the pursuing group of cultists, and another group of cultists, perhaps led to them by those three, zeroed in upon the two. With considerable regret, he took off into the direction they were previously going.

“Well, guess it is the two of us.” Gainsboro grunted in affirmation. “I sincerely hope he’ll make it to the station in time, and didn’t get shanked by those three, or by cultists. Speaking of cultists, i can’t seem to shake them off.” That was not entirely true. For several blocks they had followed him, he’d manage to lose that particular group, only to later on run into another, and needing to repeat his steps a few times.

Another problem was that he no longer really knew where he was going, since he hadn’t the time to closely observe his surroundings. He began to become more and more desperate as time went on. Eventually he ran into a dead ending street, with a bunch of cultists at the end, gorging themselves on cadavers, people they had most likely slaughtered themselves. Gainsboro and the man he had been carrying all the while, still found themselves at the start of the street when the feasting cultists took note of them, and started coming for them with their bloodcrazed grins.

Gainsboro found himself at an impasse. He couldn’t go back, nor forward. He couldn’t spot any immediate alley’s either. looking into the distance he spotted a stairway to the left of him, with simple but sturdy looking railings, and a wide light pole, that was somewhat close to the brick wall of the house. Having become truly desperate, he made a run for the stairs. “Hold on tight friend, i’ll attempt to jump up on the roof of that house over there.”

As he ran, the stairs came ever closer, but so did the cultists in front of him. They weren’t fast enough however, as he was already climbing- no sprinting up the stairs as they came in reach.
He kicked of with his left feet when he hit the last tread. He pushed off the railing with his right for extra lift and momentum towards the wall of the house. With a swift kick from his left, he directed himself towards the light pole. Gainsboro pulled his legs a bit towards his chest, as he would need both his legs for the final push. He wasn’t sure if he was going to make it, but even then he’d be able to at least throw the guy up there. At last his feet touched upon the light pole, and with a twist towards the left, and with all the power he could muster, he jumped towards the roof.

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Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Spotface
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#, as written by Subtle
Spotface grinned at the compliment, replying, "Hey, nothing wrong with some healthy cowardice. After a day like today, I think I'll really have to reconsider the whole 'bravery in the face of giant face-eating monsters' thing, neh? This hero stuff's for chumps."

"Hey, goblin--and please do tell me your name when we get a breather--I'm sorry, but I've got to trouble you again. I need to get something back from the central square. Do you feel like coming with me and having a dance with death again?"

"Oh! Name's Spotface. On account of all the spots on my face, see?," the little goblin said absentmindedly as he clambered atop a tall chimney. Looking out on the city, he spied out where the station was, then looked for the square. Ouch, that won't be so easy... Maybe there is such a thing as too much challenge? This new friend of his looked awful anxious to get to that square, though. And, hey, what am I even thinking? This guy and his puppets just saved my skinny green arse. Least I can do is help out.

Spotface dropped down, and began moving quickly in the direction of the square. No time to lose... "Ah, sure, buddy! We should be able to make it, no problem... Anything or anybody in the square I should look out for?" His face lit up for a second as a thought occurredt to him. His arms strayed back to his pack, and with a click, he released the glider wings. Gesturing with them, he said to Thomas, "You know, if the thing you need in the square was light enough, I might be able to sail over and back quicker than the two of us running there."

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Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Spotface Character Portrait: Hugo Tyrus Character Portrait: Val
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June 21--10:54 AM
Kergstien, Solarian Empire

Thomas glanced at the glider wings and shook his head. "It's not light enough for that, unfortunately. But we can certainly get there first, if you have that. Can you carry me, in that case?"

Then, he had another thought. "Hm...though, perhaps we can get my brother to help. His earth powers might help us lose those cultist bastards. I'll try calling him...you think of something else, in the meantime."

--------------------------------

Michael watched the locomotive automaton unloading the black boxes from the train. "What's with those things?" he murmured as he saw them shake and rattle. "It's like there's something alive in them..."

Fastening his bracelet around his arm, he waited until he thought no one was paying attention to him, before gazing intently at one of the boxes. His left eye flashed orange, and he tried to sense its magical signature...but a cold feeling suddenly enveloped him with only a glance, and he quickly shut the power down. "Whatever's in there...I don't think I want to know," he muttered to himself.

Just as he turned away, his bracelet flashed, signaling that Thomas was calling him. "Yes, what is it, Thomas?" Michael asked, raising the bracelet to his face.

"Michael, are you okay? Because I've got a really big problem. My puppet box is still in the central square, but there are giant titan bastards around here. I need you to come help me get it. Can you make it?"

"What do you need to get to the puppet box for?" Michael asked skeptically. "You can just make more puppets."

"You don't understand, Michael! THAT puppet is in the box! My trump card!"

That got Michael's attention. Oh, dear. I forgot he keeps it with him whenever possible. "Um...well, in that case, I'll see what I can do." Shutting his bracelet down, he turned to the Huntsmaster and the badger with whom he had gotten to the train station with. "I'm sorry, you two, but my brother's encountering some more trouble. I need to go to Central Square to help him. Could you help us, please?"

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Character Portrait: Fea Rainglore Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Spotface Character Portrait: Hugo Tyrus Character Portrait: VPS-GWF3: Gainsboro Twelve Character Portrait: Val
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IMPATIENT NIGHTBLAZER

June 21--10:56 AM
Kergstien, Solarian Empire


The puppeteer lowered his bracelet arm, having finished the call with Michael. Just as he turned back to the goblin, however, he suddenly saw one of the giants reaching up and gripping the side of the building. His mouth only formed half of a warning cry before the building they were standing upon was reduced to rubble, sending Thomas flying to the base of the building.

"Shit!" Thomas gasped, before leaping to his feet and dashing as close to the wrecked building as he dared. "Hey! Goblin! A-are you there?" He was instead treated to the sound of the giants roaring as they raced towards him. Biting his lip and cursing bitterly, the puppeteer turned on his heel and started running away, fully aware that he could not hope to run away from the giants like this.

Central Square was only one block away. Thomas' muscles were screaming, and sweat soaked his elegant, pale yellow clothes, but all he could think about was the goblin he had left behind. Just a bit further. I just need to get my puppet box back, goblin, and I'll show those bastards for what they've done to you, me, and everyone here who came just to enjoy this festival.

(OOC: Spotface was miraculously ignored by the cultists after the building collapsed, so he only has to worry about digging himself out. Of course, considering how long I waited before posting, I figure you've lost interest already.)

-----------------------------------------

Michael nodded to the badger man. "Thanks for your help," he said with a polite smile. "Now let's go!" Ignoring the Huntsmaster in the black trenchcoat and the bunny girl who had just come out of the sewers behind them, he ran towards Central Square, making sure the badger could keep up at all times.

They raced past the guards, despite warnings being shouted at them, and dashed into the adjoining streets. Michael slowed down at each corner, peeking out to make sure the coast was clear before running down each alley and avenue. The last thing they wanted was to run into those cultist monsters. The attack had been taxing on everyone, and Michael knew how suicidal this was.

As he peered around another corner, however, he suddenly saw a figure in a yellow poncho walking in their direction. At first, Michael prepared to respond with an attack, but then he heard the whirring of servos and grinding of metal parts against each other. With a second glance under the hood of the poncho, he realized it was the robot he had been fighting alongside earlier!

The robot was in horrible shape. Its plating was charred and blackened, and it was stumbling along while dragging an ax on the ground, behind its back. Most of the left arm had been completely ripped off. "Oh, no..." Michael looked him up and down, before clearing his throat. "Erm. Glad to see you're alive--ah, I mean..." What was he supposed to say? It was a robot. Never mind. "Anyway, the train station is that way. Just a few more blocks."

After a slight pause, he asked with a more worried tone, "Also, are there still too many cultists now? My brother is still out there."

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Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: VPS-GWF3: Gainsboro Twelve Character Portrait: Val
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While Val was being dragged along by the kid, they stumbled upon that robot again.
He looked damaged, but Val knew nothing of healing robots.
He wondered briefly if the robot could use a splint to help itself move... no, wood would be too weak for the metal frame. Nevertheless, Val silently offered his staff to help the robot walk-- although it was probably too small to assist.

They were close to their goal, that fair-like place that Val had largely avoided before.
Val saw another diving past cultists, who looked similar to the boy. Perhaps this was the brother?
Either way, they were close-- with cultists ever closer, and Val's wind magic barely keeping the boy and him safe.
Time was definitely running out.