Introduction
He had been watching the world since it’s very birth. Since it was first thought into life, brought to see the light of day, and made into a place of life and death and simple pleasures. It was a hobby of his, to watch such novelties fold into existence before, inevitably, they withered and faded away. Some lasted more than others, their deaths postponed by the pure love of the world, through the determination and will to survive. Others...not so much, with an uncountable number being silenced as soon as they lived.
It was a steady rise and fall, something he watched time and time again. That’s all what he was, really; little more than an observer. Someone who amused himself with the cliches, the patterns, the tales woven by these “characters”, and little more.
His name was Rend; or, at the very least, that’s what he called himself. His original name was a bit of a mouthful, after all, and not to mention not exactly a name to most. Basic, something one would hardly bat an eye at. So Rend it was, and Rend it stayed for the time being. He was quite proud of the name, actually; it made him sound impressive.
Rend had remained content to merely watch the worlds progress for decades- centuries, even- though, one day, he grew...bored. He had seen it all at this point, after all. High Schools and dramas; alien worlds and superpowers; even a few oddities, which combined them all and more. Rend hungered for change, and soon created an idea.
Why didn’t he make change?
He had seen into enough universes as it was to have a grasp on what would make things interesting. He had seen enough “characters” to know what could spice things up. And, hell, Rend knew that he had enough power to do it. After all, most couldn’t travel as freely as he, so what was stopping him from doing something? Setting his mind to it, Rend pulled all the strength from his body, his core, and began to craft a world. It didn’t have to be much, really- he just needed a stage. A few platforms here, a few torn tidbits there, and, eventually, he had made his own “world”.
Now, he just needed “characters” and “storylines” to fill the gaps.
______________________________________________________________________________
You find yourself in the middle of nowhere.
Literally nowhere, actually. There is nothing surrounding you but an inky blackness, no sounds, no temperature. Most likely, you remain in the darkness for some time, with only your thoughts as company. There isn’t much time for you to go insane, thankfully, before a voice suddenly blasts throughout the area- loud, masculine, and very cheerful.
”Well, hello and welcome, everyone! Goodness, there’s...a...few more than I originally planned, but, uh, I’m sure it’ll be fine. The more the merrier, and...what have you. Um. Well, I’m sorry to take you all from your very busy lives, but just, uh, think of this as a vacation! That’s right! A vacation, with lots of sun, a lot of sea and- oh, beach, too, can’t forget that- and, uh...Monsters? All fun, right? I’ll- I’ll tell you more once I actually drop you in- after you introduce yourself, of course, I’m sure everyone must be very confused- but to be short, you’re not exactly in your world anymore.
You’re in mine. The, uh...Rend. The Rend, yeah. Good stuff, right? All well and good, no problem with that. Fun times all around. But...uhm, yeah. Bye!”
With that, you were dropped into a wide arena, surrounded by many others- both humanoid and monstrous alike…
While the Arena is currently not much to look at, the land outside is much more...interesting, to say the least. Being heavily unexperienced in the formation of worlds, Rend decided to go the “inspired by” route- which, to him, meant cutting sections and parts from other stories and placing them into his own little pocket dimension. The basic areas exist, of course, with deserts, jungles, and seas tucked mix-matchedly about, along with other terrains- forming a patchwork quilt of sorts. However, a character might find themselves coming upon an area that is all too familiar to them- past, or present.
Good, or bad.
The characters themselves can come from any genre- Rend wasn’t exactly picky in his choices, after all. This means that cyborgs, elves, and love-stricken teenagers can all interact with one another, as well as the less favorable types. Anything and everything is possible within this realm.
Rend hadn’t exactly been thinking things through properly when he made things, really.
The characters may attempt to find Rend throughout this journey, although the being himself will most likely assign odd “missions” here and there: slaying a monster, for instance. He will influence various events and anomalies as well along the way...although I’m sure you won’t need to worry about that much.
Just remember; anything and everything is possible. Imagination is truly the limit here.
- Code: Select all
[center][img](Image URL goes here.)[/img] (An image isn't needed, but feel free to add one if you want one in. Otherwise, you can delete this bit.)
[color=#000000][size=100][b]Full Name:[/b][/size][/color]
[color=#000000][size=100][b]Nicknames/Aliases:[/b][/size][/color]
[color=#000000][size=100][b]Age:[/b][/size][/color]
[color=#000000][size=100][b]Gender:[/b][/size][/color]
[color=#000000][size=100][b]Species:[/b][/size][/color]
[color=#000000][size=100][b]Original Canon:[/b][/size][/color]
[color=#000000][size=100][b] Description:[/b][/size][/color] (What do they look like? Even if you've got a picture, a bit of writing would be nice.)
[color=#000000][size=100][b]Personality:[/b][/size][/color] (A brief outline of their demeanour.)
[color=#000000][size=100][b]Skills/Powers:[/b][/size][/color]
[color=#000000][size=100][b]Weaknesses:[/b][/size][/color] (Achilles' Heels that can be exploited by enemies.)
[color=#000000][size=100][b]Brief History:[/b][/size][/color] (Any notable events in their background that might have shaped them. If you don't want to reveal too much, that's fine.)
[color=#000000][size=100][b]Other:[/b][/size][/color] [/center] (Anything else you think everyone needs to know about your character.)
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 14 authors
Skip III took Drake's failure to respond to his verbal jabs with pursed lips but unusual patience. There was so much going on to occupy his attention that he figured his unwilling foil could wait.
He listened to the exchanges, the tantrums, catching himself up on the situation, valiantly resisting the urge to run and pet Dog or Fell. Or Eze. Or anyone else with scales, feathers, fur, or tails. His patience held, for now.
Rasteva was saying something about showcasing skills.
First order of procedure when he was to be spending extended amounts of time with a new team... Skip checked his pocket. Still there. Probably not enough for everyone, but, he fished out the small plastic container and popped it open as he spoke.
"All right, I can spar," he volunteered, smiling at Stride broadly. He held up one of the small pills from the container and danced over to the masked woman to give her the gift. "I'll try not to produce any gamma rads, because ya know, nonlethal, but uh-- You should probably still have one of these. Actually--" He looked around, pouring the lot into his hand and beaming like nothing was at all alarming, "You should probably all have one." He passed one to Madison and the rest of the huddle by the puddle, smilingly giving Cain an extra for when their drowning victim recovered. To the man who had fallen from the sky, "Hi, I'm Skip the Third, you missed it. Welcome to not-the -afterlife. This'll keep you from getting thyroid cancer." One for Dawn. One for Amos. Not one for Drake. Drake came back to life. One for Makorai, with an apologetic edge to his smile because Skip knew Makorai was among the majority of Erubescans who avoided him like the apocalyptic plague he was. "Um no guarantees about other kinds of cancer. Except there's uh--not enough, but..." He counted the remaining iodide blockers. Three remaining. Everyone in the arena except Drake, Eze and Rasteva had now been handed a pill, and then there were the three scouts when they returned...
Skip looked at Rasteva. "Do you need one, Legion?" he asked, unsure about the suit of armor's mortality status.
He handed one of the remaining three to Ezenvare.
...And now he was so close. Whether or not it was offensive did not even cross his mind. He couldn't resist giving the reptilian man's scaley neck a pet.
He listened to the exchanges, the tantrums, catching himself up on the situation, valiantly resisting the urge to run and pet Dog or Fell. Or Eze. Or anyone else with scales, feathers, fur, or tails. His patience held, for now.
Rasteva was saying something about showcasing skills.
First order of procedure when he was to be spending extended amounts of time with a new team... Skip checked his pocket. Still there. Probably not enough for everyone, but, he fished out the small plastic container and popped it open as he spoke.
"All right, I can spar," he volunteered, smiling at Stride broadly. He held up one of the small pills from the container and danced over to the masked woman to give her the gift. "I'll try not to produce any gamma rads, because ya know, nonlethal, but uh-- You should probably still have one of these. Actually--" He looked around, pouring the lot into his hand and beaming like nothing was at all alarming, "You should probably all have one." He passed one to Madison and the rest of the huddle by the puddle, smilingly giving Cain an extra for when their drowning victim recovered. To the man who had fallen from the sky, "Hi, I'm Skip the Third, you missed it. Welcome to not-the -afterlife. This'll keep you from getting thyroid cancer." One for Dawn. One for Amos. Not one for Drake. Drake came back to life. One for Makorai, with an apologetic edge to his smile because Skip knew Makorai was among the majority of Erubescans who avoided him like the apocalyptic plague he was. "Um no guarantees about other kinds of cancer. Except there's uh--not enough, but..." He counted the remaining iodide blockers. Three remaining. Everyone in the arena except Drake, Eze and Rasteva had now been handed a pill, and then there were the three scouts when they returned...
Skip looked at Rasteva. "Do you need one, Legion?" he asked, unsure about the suit of armor's mortality status.
He handed one of the remaining three to Ezenvare.
...And now he was so close. Whether or not it was offensive did not even cross his mind. He couldn't resist giving the reptilian man's scaley neck a pet.
The toppling of this mighty polearm was met with the same indifference he cast when shooting it free of it's prison of ice. Well, until he remembered that the ground beneath them was slick with rain, which would cause the mud beneath to rise from the ground and covered whomever was unfortunate enough to be standing next to it.
Amos's agility was perhaps prematurely highlighted when his backward maneuver took him backward some ten feet in a single motion. Rasteva's thanks were given a slow nod in reply. The gesture was understood by the multitude that inhabited the armour. He was placing his stake with the bolder in their number. Fortune favoured the brave and stupid, or it didn't. It didn't make a lick of difference to Amos. He didn't come here to walk like a dog with its tail tucked between it's legs. Not to say he wasn't cautious. He simply wanted to teste his mettle in a foreign world.
The conversations continued for a while longer, and new arrivals continued to phase into this stream of reality. One particularly slow one had been struggling in the slop. He imagined someone would help them. He didn't plan on making the effort to do so. Too many bodies on one task made it's completion difficult.
When the armoured one asked about powers, he stayed quiet, not out of fear per say, but the particulars were often hard to explain. "I can be useful." Was what he settled on, quiet enough to warrant the smallest of acknowledgement.
The prospect of sparring however, raised an interested eyebrow. Sparring would be interesting. He could cloak his bullets in concussive energy to make them non lethal. Perhaps.
Or perhaps later. Two of the people he had decided to travel with had already, joining one of the first.
"Sparring ain't a bad idea, but perhaps we should head out as soon as we finish and stake our claim 'fore we splinter off much more."
Amos turned to the eminent and took the pill he passed him with a nod.
"Ayup, thanks."
Amos the organic half-cyborg turned his red eye to this boy, in particular his insides, which practically /danced/ with the life rending energy that made Geiger-counters tic tic ticikty whenever it was around.
"Lookin' forward to a bit of sparrin'." Amos reached forward and gave the young man's shoulder a small squeeze and shake, both friendly. He didn't seem like the type who minded. If that sniper kids reaction was anything to go off of, folks were probably scared to touch him.
Amos's agility was perhaps prematurely highlighted when his backward maneuver took him backward some ten feet in a single motion. Rasteva's thanks were given a slow nod in reply. The gesture was understood by the multitude that inhabited the armour. He was placing his stake with the bolder in their number. Fortune favoured the brave and stupid, or it didn't. It didn't make a lick of difference to Amos. He didn't come here to walk like a dog with its tail tucked between it's legs. Not to say he wasn't cautious. He simply wanted to teste his mettle in a foreign world.
The conversations continued for a while longer, and new arrivals continued to phase into this stream of reality. One particularly slow one had been struggling in the slop. He imagined someone would help them. He didn't plan on making the effort to do so. Too many bodies on one task made it's completion difficult.
When the armoured one asked about powers, he stayed quiet, not out of fear per say, but the particulars were often hard to explain. "I can be useful." Was what he settled on, quiet enough to warrant the smallest of acknowledgement.
The prospect of sparring however, raised an interested eyebrow. Sparring would be interesting. He could cloak his bullets in concussive energy to make them non lethal. Perhaps.
Or perhaps later. Two of the people he had decided to travel with had already, joining one of the first.
"Sparring ain't a bad idea, but perhaps we should head out as soon as we finish and stake our claim 'fore we splinter off much more."
Amos turned to the eminent and took the pill he passed him with a nod.
"Ayup, thanks."
Amos the organic half-cyborg turned his red eye to this boy, in particular his insides, which practically /danced/ with the life rending energy that made Geiger-counters tic tic ticikty whenever it was around.
"Lookin' forward to a bit of sparrin'." Amos reached forward and gave the young man's shoulder a small squeeze and shake, both friendly. He didn't seem like the type who minded. If that sniper kids reaction was anything to go off of, folks were probably scared to touch him.
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Rasteva was pleased to say the least. Near everyone had calmed enough to hold a regular conversation, and their suggestion to spar seemed to be going over rather well.
Never let it be said that Mortals did not excel in all forms of violence against one another.
Nodding their horned head at Stride, the Daemon rumbled out."This One asks that you refrain from the use of weapons this time around. All the better to avoid crippling you opponents. We do not wish anyone here to be harmed seriously." Rasteva gazed down at the people gathered around. "You may choose a partner that you feel comfortable fighting with, should they agree. Another will watch and be ready to step in should things get out of hand." The Daemon paused, burning eye drilling into everyone as they continued. "But Rasteva trusts that you all can control yourselves, yes?"
Head lifting marginally, the armored figure sought to address the one called Madison."Yes, Rasteva has seen enough realities to know a false one. We are more than likely trapped within a pocket of Space Time controlled by Rend. As of now it cannot be said if where we stand is a legitimate planet or a randomly generated landmass extending off into infinity."
The Daemon let out a thoughtful sound, metal claws steepled together. "Despite its large size a Planet is still a finite space, everything must already be put in place before populating it. Physics, time itself, environments with local fauna. These things take time and energy to get right before a planet can be used for whatever purpose a God has in mind. And it is excessively difficult to change once its creation is underway. Based on Rend's general sense of inexperience, This One presumes that we are on a flat plane of existence. This will allow Rend to change or add things based soley on how far we travel and no more. For all we know there is nothing well beyond that horizon, but there is no way of testing that theory as we more than likely cannot travel there faster than Rend can create a reality for us."
Trailing off the Daemon was vaguely aware of another person speaking to them, and the let out a rumble amusement at their chosen name for them. "Legion....Rasteva is Rasteva, Little One. No more and no less." Eyeing the bottle in the boys hand, the Daemon put forth a suggestion. "If you only have a finite number of those, This One feels that they should be given ONLY to those that plan on sparring with you at all. All the better to save them for future use." Rasteva tapped a claw against their metal chest. "This One does not require them, Rasteva has no physical form aside from what you see here. If you wish to avoid harming anyone here, then you are more than welcome to spar with Rasteva. This One will not fall ill."
Never let it be said that Mortals did not excel in all forms of violence against one another.
Nodding their horned head at Stride, the Daemon rumbled out."This One asks that you refrain from the use of weapons this time around. All the better to avoid crippling you opponents. We do not wish anyone here to be harmed seriously." Rasteva gazed down at the people gathered around. "You may choose a partner that you feel comfortable fighting with, should they agree. Another will watch and be ready to step in should things get out of hand." The Daemon paused, burning eye drilling into everyone as they continued. "But Rasteva trusts that you all can control yourselves, yes?"
Head lifting marginally, the armored figure sought to address the one called Madison."Yes, Rasteva has seen enough realities to know a false one. We are more than likely trapped within a pocket of Space Time controlled by Rend. As of now it cannot be said if where we stand is a legitimate planet or a randomly generated landmass extending off into infinity."
The Daemon let out a thoughtful sound, metal claws steepled together. "Despite its large size a Planet is still a finite space, everything must already be put in place before populating it. Physics, time itself, environments with local fauna. These things take time and energy to get right before a planet can be used for whatever purpose a God has in mind. And it is excessively difficult to change once its creation is underway. Based on Rend's general sense of inexperience, This One presumes that we are on a flat plane of existence. This will allow Rend to change or add things based soley on how far we travel and no more. For all we know there is nothing well beyond that horizon, but there is no way of testing that theory as we more than likely cannot travel there faster than Rend can create a reality for us."
Trailing off the Daemon was vaguely aware of another person speaking to them, and the let out a rumble amusement at their chosen name for them. "Legion....Rasteva is Rasteva, Little One. No more and no less." Eyeing the bottle in the boys hand, the Daemon put forth a suggestion. "If you only have a finite number of those, This One feels that they should be given ONLY to those that plan on sparring with you at all. All the better to save them for future use." Rasteva tapped a claw against their metal chest. "This One does not require them, Rasteva has no physical form aside from what you see here. If you wish to avoid harming anyone here, then you are more than welcome to spar with Rasteva. This One will not fall ill."
"Whi-" When Adira's body moved from the spot he had been ogling her in it was as if...a spell or enchantment had been broken. With a mirage like shimmer he watched the breasts he had once lauded as a pair of the ages regress to a more proportionate size. The flimsy top that had cradled the twin beauties was replaced with cloths of a more practical nature. 'What the hell just happened' 'I must be thirsty.' He thought. Makorai's thirst was one that couldn't be quenched by water alone. Nay, it was a thirst that required a drink from a different pond.
Despite the decrease in her chest, Makorai still appreciated them for their subtle nature. Their firmness spoke of inner strength, their horizons hefted by Atlas the corset..
Makorai blinked once, and rubbed his eyes with his free hand, which moved down from his face pulling the skin down with it for a brief second. Kora had summoned him back from the pits of desire, right as the other girl had left the arena.
"Oh yeah. Front..front and center." He turned to his friend with a slightly pained expression on his face, trying to gather enough mental semblance to make a patented Makorai response.
"I'm at my breast don't worry." The sniper blinked. 'Okay Makorai'
He opened his mouth to speak again, but in a similar fashion to before, he found the words stuck in his throat. The Kora of the front line was gone, as was the battle fatigues she was wearing. In it's place was the skin of slain enemies, so casually draped around her rippling form that her curves dipped where the skin was exposed..
"SHIT!" Makorai's body jolted suddenly when Skip approached him, his voice more jarring then Kora's had been when it came to exorcising the thoughts from his head.
"Yeah, sorry man. cool thanks Skip." It wasn't the most winning smile he flashed to Skip, but it was an effort. Cancer and all. He wasn't sciency enough to understand anything about radiation, and safe levels around him were suspect at all times for him.
They were talking about sparring of some kind. Yeah. No. Sparring was out of the question for him. Trick shooting on the other hand..
"I can show off my shooting skills if you guys pick targets, or throw things in the air, whichever is best."
Despite the decrease in her chest, Makorai still appreciated them for their subtle nature. Their firmness spoke of inner strength, their horizons hefted by Atlas the corset..
Makorai blinked once, and rubbed his eyes with his free hand, which moved down from his face pulling the skin down with it for a brief second. Kora had summoned him back from the pits of desire, right as the other girl had left the arena.
"Oh yeah. Front..front and center." He turned to his friend with a slightly pained expression on his face, trying to gather enough mental semblance to make a patented Makorai response.
"I'm at my breast don't worry." The sniper blinked. 'Okay Makorai'
He opened his mouth to speak again, but in a similar fashion to before, he found the words stuck in his throat. The Kora of the front line was gone, as was the battle fatigues she was wearing. In it's place was the skin of slain enemies, so casually draped around her rippling form that her curves dipped where the skin was exposed..
"SHIT!" Makorai's body jolted suddenly when Skip approached him, his voice more jarring then Kora's had been when it came to exorcising the thoughts from his head.
"Yeah, sorry man. cool thanks Skip." It wasn't the most winning smile he flashed to Skip, but it was an effort. Cancer and all. He wasn't sciency enough to understand anything about radiation, and safe levels around him were suspect at all times for him.
They were talking about sparring of some kind. Yeah. No. Sparring was out of the question for him. Trick shooting on the other hand..
"I can show off my shooting skills if you guys pick targets, or throw things in the air, whichever is best."
"Whi-" When Adira's body moved from the spot he had been ogling her in it was as if...a spell or enchantment had been broken. With a mirage like shimmer he watched the breasts he had once lauded as a pair of the ages regress to a more proportionate size. The flimsy top that had cradled the twin beauties was replaced with cloths of a more practical nature. 'What the hell just happened' 'I must be thirsty.' He thought. Makorai's thirst was one that couldn't be quenched by water alone. Nay, it was a thirst that required a drink from a different pond.
Despite the decrease in her chest, Makorai still appreciated them for their subtle nature. Their firmness spoke of inner strength, their horizons hefted by Atlas the corset..
Makorai blinked once, and rubbed his eyes with his free hand, which moved down from his face pulling the skin down with it for a brief second. Kora had summoned him back from the pits of desire, right as the other girl had left the arena.
"Oh yeah. Front..front and center." He turned to his friend with a slightly pained expression on his face, trying to gather enough mental semblance to make a patented Makorai response.
"I'm at my breast don't worry." The sniper blinked. 'Okay Makorai'
He opened his mouth to speak again, but in a similar fashion to before, he found the words stuck in his throat. The Kora of the front line was gone, as was the battle fatigues she was wearing. In it's place was the skin of slain enemies, so casually draped around her rippling form that her curves dipped where the skin was exposed..
"SHIT!" Makorai's body jolted suddenly when Skip approached him, his voice more jarring then Kora's had been when it came to exorcising the thoughts from his head.
"Yeah, sorry man. cool thanks Skip." It wasn't the most winning smile he flashed to Skip, but it was an effort. Cancer and all. He wasn't sciency enough to understand anything about radiation, and safe levels around him were suspect at all times for him.
They were talking about sparring of some kind. Yeah. No. Sparring was out of the question for him. Trick shooting on the other hand..
"I can show off my shooting skills if you guys pick targets, or throw things in the air, whichever is best."
Despite the decrease in her chest, Makorai still appreciated them for their subtle nature. Their firmness spoke of inner strength, their horizons hefted by Atlas the corset..
Makorai blinked once, and rubbed his eyes with his free hand, which moved down from his face pulling the skin down with it for a brief second. Kora had summoned him back from the pits of desire, right as the other girl had left the arena.
"Oh yeah. Front..front and center." He turned to his friend with a slightly pained expression on his face, trying to gather enough mental semblance to make a patented Makorai response.
"I'm at my breast don't worry." The sniper blinked. 'Okay Makorai'
He opened his mouth to speak again, but in a similar fashion to before, he found the words stuck in his throat. The Kora of the front line was gone, as was the battle fatigues she was wearing. In it's place was the skin of slain enemies, so casually draped around her rippling form that her curves dipped where the skin was exposed..
"SHIT!" Makorai's body jolted suddenly when Skip approached him, his voice more jarring then Kora's had been when it came to exorcising the thoughts from his head.
"Yeah, sorry man. cool thanks Skip." It wasn't the most winning smile he flashed to Skip, but it was an effort. Cancer and all. He wasn't sciency enough to understand anything about radiation, and safe levels around him were suspect at all times for him.
They were talking about sparring of some kind. Yeah. No. Sparring was out of the question for him. Trick shooting on the other hand..
"I can show off my shooting skills if you guys pick targets, or throw things in the air, whichever is best."
Kora, assuming her help was not immediately required, watched the bossy girl and her dragon leave with the one with the face-gap. Ostensibly for scouting, but she did not entirely trust them to return.
There were other options, but that would involve having to negotiate with the filthy terrorist about flying up and getting an aerial view and she was not sure she was really a good person to do so... even if they could trust what he'd got to relay.
She idly listened in some capacity to what Rasteva had to say. She was not exactly feeling terribly amicable considering that thing had just tried to kill her not a few minutes previous, but its suggestion seemed solid enough. Better people knew how much they'd been nerfed now than end up getting screwed later on.
Though she didn't think she really wanted to try her own to their limits.
Kora didn't really feel dramatically different. Indeed on the yard stick of magic and immortality, her abilities were pretty much one trick ponies. But they were ponies that did the one trick pretty effectively, and it was a trick that once started, wasn't really something you could stop. Powering up berserkergang wasn't like a switch on and off. Once you invoked it things tended to get pretty intense.
Ripping an enemy combatant in half at the waist with your bare hands was very useful in a battle situation, but was frowned upon in a friendly scenario.
"I'd be happy to do it, y'know, assuming this homicidal tin man doesn't try and chop me in half again, but no powers here. Don't want things to go sour."
Just then, she received one of the iodide pills, and rested it in her palm for a moment, watching the young man rushing to hand them out..and he appeared to be coming up a bit short. Her expression grew a little more sober for a moment.
"Hey, uh, Skips, you might as well save mine for somebody else." she stated, rather awkwardly holding it back out to the radioactive gifted.
"Cuz uh....y'know..."
Mostly because thyroid cancer had a five year survival rate of about 90% and Kora had a five year survival rate of about 0%.
----
The oddly dressed figure, now pulled out of the puddle, pushed herself onto her front, curling her knees underneath her and coughing up some water fro her lungs onto the stone floor.
From there, she went quiet for a moment, resting her forehead against the floor, eyes shut. Silent. Water seeping out of the ragged layers of clothing.
Then, the young woman spoke, quite clearly...if rather cryptically.
"There are wolves in the sand. Blood sinks and bones rise. A step you take can't be taken back. Even if you cover your tracks the sand will always know that you walked there."
There were other options, but that would involve having to negotiate with the filthy terrorist about flying up and getting an aerial view and she was not sure she was really a good person to do so... even if they could trust what he'd got to relay.
She idly listened in some capacity to what Rasteva had to say. She was not exactly feeling terribly amicable considering that thing had just tried to kill her not a few minutes previous, but its suggestion seemed solid enough. Better people knew how much they'd been nerfed now than end up getting screwed later on.
Though she didn't think she really wanted to try her own to their limits.
Kora didn't really feel dramatically different. Indeed on the yard stick of magic and immortality, her abilities were pretty much one trick ponies. But they were ponies that did the one trick pretty effectively, and it was a trick that once started, wasn't really something you could stop. Powering up berserkergang wasn't like a switch on and off. Once you invoked it things tended to get pretty intense.
Ripping an enemy combatant in half at the waist with your bare hands was very useful in a battle situation, but was frowned upon in a friendly scenario.
"I'd be happy to do it, y'know, assuming this homicidal tin man doesn't try and chop me in half again, but no powers here. Don't want things to go sour."
Just then, she received one of the iodide pills, and rested it in her palm for a moment, watching the young man rushing to hand them out..and he appeared to be coming up a bit short. Her expression grew a little more sober for a moment.
"Hey, uh, Skips, you might as well save mine for somebody else." she stated, rather awkwardly holding it back out to the radioactive gifted.
"Cuz uh....y'know..."
Mostly because thyroid cancer had a five year survival rate of about 90% and Kora had a five year survival rate of about 0%.
----
The oddly dressed figure, now pulled out of the puddle, pushed herself onto her front, curling her knees underneath her and coughing up some water fro her lungs onto the stone floor.
From there, she went quiet for a moment, resting her forehead against the floor, eyes shut. Silent. Water seeping out of the ragged layers of clothing.
Then, the young woman spoke, quite clearly...if rather cryptically.
"There are wolves in the sand. Blood sinks and bones rise. A step you take can't be taken back. Even if you cover your tracks the sand will always know that you walked there."
Ezenvare Queem
Eze had been staring at Armory only for a few moments when Skip had bounced on over and handed him some sort of small hard bread with a strange color. Honestly, the half-dragon was confused as to what purpose this strange piece of bread served. Is it a potion?
Then the strange man that handed it to him petted Eze on the neck. The half-dragon was caught completely off guard, and in response tightened away from the hand while letting loose an awkward sound. The fin on the back of Eze's neck shot up, exposing the entire membrane that it held up. Meanwhile, the rest of Eze was busy trying to avoid falling over from the sudden movement. His feet had slid further apart and his staff was now more firmly planted into the ground. His tail and body swung from right to left several times, the tail mirroring the rest of his body, before he finally regained balance. Eze took a breath after the little ordeal, shaking from the weakening and adrenaline now within his system.
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It appeared that the previous events did not leave Eze in a good mood, as Armory's concern towards the dragon man resulted only in a rant at his uselessness. Armory could only sigh at this and he shrugged his shoulders somewhat. Before he could however soem strange newcomer came and gave Eze some pill. It was odd but Armory decided to try and cheer teh dragon up somewhat.Useless huh? Well let me tell you one thing. Thinking that you're useless only ever guarantees that you will be useless. Trust me I leaned that the hard way when I first got....."He pounded on his metal chest for a moment to indicate what exactly he was referring too."Well like this. Everyone here will serve a purpose, I'm sure, and feeling sorry for yourself won't do anyone any good. But hey what do I know? I mean if you'd rather stay here and sulk I won't stop you. But if that's what you choose just be sure not to go out there and get yourself killed alright?"
Armory turned to leave, he didn't really know the guy enough to try and talk him further out of his funk. Instead he decided he would leave the dragon with some parting, hopefully encouraging words, and let Eze sort it out on his own. As he was on his way back towards the larger group he could spy quite a few new faces. Just great, more confused newcomers. It seemed two of the others had decided to make their way out into the world beyond the gate. They were in pairs so Armory assumed they'd be safe enough.
When he got back it seemed Rasteva had offered the others a choice between a lecture, or some friendly sparring. Armory quickly decided that some sparring would be quiet fun. He smiled as he looked at the others. "Oh looks like there are plenty of new faces here, well for those that don't know my name's Armory. And as for the sparring I'm up for it! Who's up for a round?"
Armory turned to leave, he didn't really know the guy enough to try and talk him further out of his funk. Instead he decided he would leave the dragon with some parting, hopefully encouraging words, and let Eze sort it out on his own. As he was on his way back towards the larger group he could spy quite a few new faces. Just great, more confused newcomers. It seemed two of the others had decided to make their way out into the world beyond the gate. They were in pairs so Armory assumed they'd be safe enough.
When he got back it seemed Rasteva had offered the others a choice between a lecture, or some friendly sparring. Armory quickly decided that some sparring would be quiet fun. He smiled as he looked at the others. "Oh looks like there are plenty of new faces here, well for those that don't know my name's Armory. And as for the sparring I'm up for it! Who's up for a round?"
Xinder Ouquid
Adira answered Xin's question with a slightly longer response than he was looking for. Without only a few moments' pause, Xin sarcastically shot back "Oh, I get it. A mountain lizard dog."
"Well, silver bullets then." Xin replied to the comment about undeath. Even with his helmet on, it was easy to just hear the smugness in his comment. May not have been his best humor, but it was something. Something other than turning lava sharks into unrecognizable piles of blood and meat.
Not too long after his little joke, Khojin asked as to whether he had done some scouting. Xin hadn't, but he did give the view from the arena a decent time and a pair of binoculars. "I found some rocks. More sand and more rocks. There was also a couple bridges around that looked like they went to other, floating landmasses. Or just over really deep canyons. Couldn't tell. Though, the bridges looked rather rickety from here, but that could've just been the heat. I bet the fliers might have better luck with them. Oh, did I mention I found rocks?"
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A deep rumbling sound emanated from the Daemon's helm, their single eye blazing brightly. "Very good! We seem to have enough of our number to get a fair Tournament going. Finally this Arena will see some use." Rasteva suddenly fell silent, as Kora piping up gave them pause.
"I'd be happy to do it, y'know, assuming this homicidal tin man doesn't try and chop me in half again.."
Honestly Rasteva had forgotten all about that. It had only been what, an hour ago? Surely enough time for the Human to have gotten over it. The Daemon rumbled again, the sound thoughtful this time. They knew that Humans tended to hold grudges for a long time, if watching nations war with each other for generations at a time was any indication. And to be fair, the Daemon HAD tried to kill her...... An apology or kind gesture would be sure to soothe he temper, but at present there was nothing for the Daemon to kill so that they might properly present its corpse to her.
This was going to be a bit difficult.
Still the Daemon turned to address the woman, all the while considering their options. "Rasteva understands your concern Flaming Woman."
They really did not. She hadn't died in the slightest, so there was really nothing for her to be complaining about. But Rasteva wasn't stupid enough to say so out loud.
"Given our initial introduction, you have every right to not trust Rasteva. As a token of This One's.....apology...This One will give you something in the hopes that you can forgive them. Rasteva would like very much for you to have it."
What the Daemon was about to do was quite risky. At best it could get the Woman seriously hurt should she misuse it....At worst it could get everyone there killed.....Or just be VERY embarrassing for the Daemon. All the same, they knew they could not afford any enemies in a Reality where destruction could be around every corner, so the Armor figure knew that a gesture at great cost to themselves would at least make it seem like they were TRYING to set things right.
Rasteva steeled their nerve, deciding that they would simply obliterate that bridge when they got to it. Perhaps she would wait until she returned to her own world to use it for something foolish. Then Rasteva would be absolved of any responsibility as they'd be too far away to do anything.
Collecting themselves mentally the Daemon concentrated, the fanged mouth of their helm unhinging. Exhaling loudly, a cloud of black smoke billowed from within the helm, swirling within the air before coiling in on itself. Snapping the helm shut with a loud 'Clang', Rasteva reached up as the smoke began to take shape and solidify. Clutching a spherical object within their claws, the Daemon held it out towards Kora, the sphere so dark that it seemed to absorb all light rather than reflect it.
"Here, take this. A gift. My kind on occasion will bestow upon Mortals a minute portion of their power. It can grant you many things, and Mortals in some Realities call them 'Wishes'. Their powers vary based upon the Daemon they come from, and as such you must be sure of what it is that you use it for. Rasteva is a Daemon of great Strength, and so this 'Wish' will grant you a strength equal to theirs for a very short time, about 60 seconds." The Daemon hesitated there, not particularly eager to speak the next statement, but it would be dishonorable to lie about the nature of the gift they were giving. "You may also...Call upon Rasteva to complete one task for you as you see fit. Granted, This One is not sure how powerful your gift may be given Rend's meddling. And it only has one use. But if you should find yourself in grave danger it may prove useful."
The Daemon prodded the Sphere towards Kora. "And do not bother trying to give it away. Rasteva has given it to you, and you are the only one capable of putting it to use. Most importantly It is not a toy, it must be used wisely." The armored figure's burning eye met Kora's gaze. "Should you both accept and use this gift, you are solely responsible for the outcome. It is YOUR soul that must bear the burden of your decision, no one else."
Though they put up a front of positivity, Rasteva could not help but feel that they would come to regret this decision.
Hopefully that regret would come far down the road.
"I'd be happy to do it, y'know, assuming this homicidal tin man doesn't try and chop me in half again.."
Honestly Rasteva had forgotten all about that. It had only been what, an hour ago? Surely enough time for the Human to have gotten over it. The Daemon rumbled again, the sound thoughtful this time. They knew that Humans tended to hold grudges for a long time, if watching nations war with each other for generations at a time was any indication. And to be fair, the Daemon HAD tried to kill her...... An apology or kind gesture would be sure to soothe he temper, but at present there was nothing for the Daemon to kill so that they might properly present its corpse to her.
This was going to be a bit difficult.
Still the Daemon turned to address the woman, all the while considering their options. "Rasteva understands your concern Flaming Woman."
They really did not. She hadn't died in the slightest, so there was really nothing for her to be complaining about. But Rasteva wasn't stupid enough to say so out loud.
"Given our initial introduction, you have every right to not trust Rasteva. As a token of This One's.....apology...This One will give you something in the hopes that you can forgive them. Rasteva would like very much for you to have it."
What the Daemon was about to do was quite risky. At best it could get the Woman seriously hurt should she misuse it....At worst it could get everyone there killed.....Or just be VERY embarrassing for the Daemon. All the same, they knew they could not afford any enemies in a Reality where destruction could be around every corner, so the Armor figure knew that a gesture at great cost to themselves would at least make it seem like they were TRYING to set things right.
Rasteva steeled their nerve, deciding that they would simply obliterate that bridge when they got to it. Perhaps she would wait until she returned to her own world to use it for something foolish. Then Rasteva would be absolved of any responsibility as they'd be too far away to do anything.
Collecting themselves mentally the Daemon concentrated, the fanged mouth of their helm unhinging. Exhaling loudly, a cloud of black smoke billowed from within the helm, swirling within the air before coiling in on itself. Snapping the helm shut with a loud 'Clang', Rasteva reached up as the smoke began to take shape and solidify. Clutching a spherical object within their claws, the Daemon held it out towards Kora, the sphere so dark that it seemed to absorb all light rather than reflect it.
"Here, take this. A gift. My kind on occasion will bestow upon Mortals a minute portion of their power. It can grant you many things, and Mortals in some Realities call them 'Wishes'. Their powers vary based upon the Daemon they come from, and as such you must be sure of what it is that you use it for. Rasteva is a Daemon of great Strength, and so this 'Wish' will grant you a strength equal to theirs for a very short time, about 60 seconds." The Daemon hesitated there, not particularly eager to speak the next statement, but it would be dishonorable to lie about the nature of the gift they were giving. "You may also...Call upon Rasteva to complete one task for you as you see fit. Granted, This One is not sure how powerful your gift may be given Rend's meddling. And it only has one use. But if you should find yourself in grave danger it may prove useful."
The Daemon prodded the Sphere towards Kora. "And do not bother trying to give it away. Rasteva has given it to you, and you are the only one capable of putting it to use. Most importantly It is not a toy, it must be used wisely." The armored figure's burning eye met Kora's gaze. "Should you both accept and use this gift, you are solely responsible for the outcome. It is YOUR soul that must bear the burden of your decision, no one else."
Though they put up a front of positivity, Rasteva could not help but feel that they would come to regret this decision.
Hopefully that regret would come far down the road.
Adira Hasidare
Adira mentally signed. She would settle on "mountain lizard dog" for now, as she was quickly loosing the will to combat these clarification requests. Instead she paid attention to what he reported seeing, which wasn't anything terribly useful either. Looking out into the landscape it was clear that, to acquire any further information, they'd have to move away from the the arena however before they did that Adira was obligated to fetch Rasteva. After all, if the daemon was all that they described themselves to be (and had so far proven to be), then they may prove to be an invaluable asset to the traveling group.
Additionally there may be others who wished to leave the arena and, though considerably weakened, Adira had no doubts they'd be valuable allies against... whatever Rend put in their way. Perhaps Drake as he seemed to be at odds with Kora and, with that level of animosity between them, Adira doubted that they'd want to stay close to each other long term. Plus there were others, like the metal-man and the hybrid, that had not yet left the arena but also did not seem keen on staying.
Looking up at the sky Adira tried to gauge how time moved in this world. Slower than at home it seemed, but still at a steady pace. Of course at any given moment Rend could alter this however he saw fit, but at the moment time was moving regularly. Again she turned her eyes to the horizon, but nothing had changed, so instead her eyes followed the bridges. They connected the arena they were standing outside of to rock platforms and try as she might, there were too many for her to count. Following them with her eyes in an attempt to make out a path to the ground she found it was designed similarly to a maze, making it extremely difficult to form a mental map. It seemed that the only way to reach the end was to simply start walking.
The other two could see all of this for themselves, so Adira didn't bother reiterating these observations. "I'll fetch Rasteva and whomever else is inclined to join us so we can start moving." she said to Khojin before walking toward the entrance of the arena again. Fell hesitated to sniff the air for a moment however, being unable to discern much more than the others had, he turned and followed Adira.
"Okay, sorry, my mistake," Skip said with an agreeable nod as Rasteva introduced themselves.
But he was lying.
Rasteva was Legion now. Once christened by Skip, the nickname was almost never to be revoked, a name stuck to the victim of Skip's friendship like chewing gum to a school girl's hair.
Plus. With the plural pronouns and third person address, it was too damnably fitting to pass up.
"And, um, it's not just fighting me. It's anyone who has to get in radius, if I have to cook anything. Or anyone. Or I could just...stand really far away. Which is what I'll probably haveta do once those wear off." His expression fell for a moment, but the thought of being alone couldn't hold up to the exciting novelty of the day and he was soon grinning again. "Anyway. I'll save these two for the scouts, I guess."
The young man pocketed the two remaining pills-- meanwhile positively beaming both at Eze's trick with the fin, and the staggering, to which Skip said, "Bit too much to drink, Scales?" and still entirely in the way one would talk to an animal, as most Projects Skip had seen with such inhuman characteristics tended to take on animal intelligence -- and beaming even brighter at Amos' rare moment of friendly physicality. People didn't usually seek out contact with Skip III unless they were wearing hazmat suits. Or were healers. Or were damage-tanking viking women with already short lifespans.
Speaking of...
three pills left again, as Kora handed him hers back. He gave a brief look at the thing and a nod and a short eye contact with an uncharacteristic amount of feeling.
"Anyway. I'll fight anyone who needs to fight somebody. I'll fight you, Legion. Or the Sundance Kid. Or any of you. Or both of you at once. Just don't accidentally kill me. Can I ride Scales?"
He adjusted his lemon yellow scarf and scampered to a free patch of ground, assuming a footready stance. Other than not dying, his qualms in a fight were pretty low. He couldn't feel pain and he was inhumanly quick, if not very strong. And he wasn't especially empathetic if he did end up causing some damage, so all the better.
But he was lying.
Rasteva was Legion now. Once christened by Skip, the nickname was almost never to be revoked, a name stuck to the victim of Skip's friendship like chewing gum to a school girl's hair.
Plus. With the plural pronouns and third person address, it was too damnably fitting to pass up.
"And, um, it's not just fighting me. It's anyone who has to get in radius, if I have to cook anything. Or anyone. Or I could just...stand really far away. Which is what I'll probably haveta do once those wear off." His expression fell for a moment, but the thought of being alone couldn't hold up to the exciting novelty of the day and he was soon grinning again. "Anyway. I'll save these two for the scouts, I guess."
The young man pocketed the two remaining pills-- meanwhile positively beaming both at Eze's trick with the fin, and the staggering, to which Skip said, "Bit too much to drink, Scales?" and still entirely in the way one would talk to an animal, as most Projects Skip had seen with such inhuman characteristics tended to take on animal intelligence -- and beaming even brighter at Amos' rare moment of friendly physicality. People didn't usually seek out contact with Skip III unless they were wearing hazmat suits. Or were healers. Or were damage-tanking viking women with already short lifespans.
Speaking of...
three pills left again, as Kora handed him hers back. He gave a brief look at the thing and a nod and a short eye contact with an uncharacteristic amount of feeling.
"Anyway. I'll fight anyone who needs to fight somebody. I'll fight you, Legion. Or the Sundance Kid. Or any of you. Or both of you at once. Just don't accidentally kill me. Can I ride Scales?"
He adjusted his lemon yellow scarf and scampered to a free patch of ground, assuming a footready stance. Other than not dying, his qualms in a fight were pretty low. He couldn't feel pain and he was inhumanly quick, if not very strong. And he wasn't especially empathetic if he did end up causing some damage, so all the better.
Cybergoeth has been watching the goings-on in the arena for quite a while now; a silent, watchful figure waiting in the shadow. She'd seen the tension between the winged boy and the warrior woman, witnessed Rend's power-reducing retribution, and the departure of the two women intent on scouting what lay outside. She'd tried leaving when the water woman had made her own departure, but Rend had seen fit to block that, leaving her as trapped as the rest. Eris would doubtless be enraged by the entrapment of her agent, but it was a distant concern. Eris could use a break from her "game".
The glowing man - Skip the Third he'd called himself - was the first to draw her into action. Perhaps Eris was rubbing off on her, but his radioactive state had kindled a spark of curiosity in her; she wanted to see him in action. She replaced her mask, causing her dreads to appear as part of her outfit rather than her genuine hair, and lowered her dark-lens'd goggles over her eyes before taking a single step, finding herself instantly at Skip's side. She had little doubt the radioactive warning symbol on her mask's breathing apparatus would catch his eye.
She tapped Skip on the shoulder, then called out to Rasteva. "Can you see a way up there?" She gestured at the stands surrounding the arena pit. "If it's a tournament, only those fighting should be down here, and only during their match." Her voice was distorted and mechanical through the mask; another idea of Eris's. She thought it made Cybergoeth scarier.
The glowing man - Skip the Third he'd called himself - was the first to draw her into action. Perhaps Eris was rubbing off on her, but his radioactive state had kindled a spark of curiosity in her; she wanted to see him in action. She replaced her mask, causing her dreads to appear as part of her outfit rather than her genuine hair, and lowered her dark-lens'd goggles over her eyes before taking a single step, finding herself instantly at Skip's side. She had little doubt the radioactive warning symbol on her mask's breathing apparatus would catch his eye.
She tapped Skip on the shoulder, then called out to Rasteva. "Can you see a way up there?" She gestured at the stands surrounding the arena pit. "If it's a tournament, only those fighting should be down here, and only during their match." Her voice was distorted and mechanical through the mask; another idea of Eris's. She thought it made Cybergoeth scarier.
Ezenvare Queem
Eze listened silently as Armory tried to give him a speech as to what his lack of belief in himself was going to do. Another 200 years and he may begin to understand. If he is lucky, he'll die a quick, painless death before then.
Not even two moments later, Skip made some comment about Eze drinking too much. The half-dragon responded by shouting back with "This is a desert, I'm bronze scaled. We like water." Without too much thought Eze checked his bag again. More water. Pulling the once again full pail of water out of the bag, Eze chugged the entire thing. As he put it back into the bag Eze's pose straightened slightly, but was still far from when he had arrived.
Then Skip asked about a ride. Eze let loose a rather long sigh at the comment. If Skip really wanted a mount, why would he chose Eze? I'm weak and useless. It's too dry, there's no way I could get the energy to take to the skies. There is no way in the 9 hells that I'm gunna be able to carry another person.
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Rasteva stared down at the boy called Skip, nodding curtly. "Very well then. You may do battle with Rasteva. If you would like to pick a partner, you may do so." The Daemon turned their attention from Kora, the sphere floating lazily in the air. "Perhaps if you do well enough, This One will bestow upon you a gift as well."
Eye drifting side to side, the Daemon considered everyone else there. Pairing everyone up would be easy enough, but they would still need someone to oversee everything. Eze was their first choice, considering the Dragon man did not seemed all to inclined to fight. Rasteva trusted that he would be a fair judge.
That was however, until Skip demanded to ride the Dragon Man into battle.
Had Rasteva been capable of sputtering, they would have immediately done so. "What nonsense is this? You cannot ride a Brother in Arms into Battle!" The Daemon pointed a metal claw at Eze. "As it stands, he is in little position to fight, and you wish to RIDE Him?Let the poor man be and find another partner."
Who was raising this boy? Were they not teaching him any of the Basic Tenets of Arena Conduct?
Rasteva's thoughts were interrupted as ANOTHER newcomer practically teleported amongst them all.
This was getting old.
Listening intently as the person began speaking, the Daemon's eye gazed up at the Arena's stands. "This One agrees that those who will not be sparring should be up in the stands. However getting there from where we all stand will be difficult. Arena stands are meant to be filled from outside, if you leave the Arena and search you are sure to find the entrance for spectators." The Daeemon shrugged a metal shoulder. "Or, Rasteva can toss you up into them over the wall."
Eye drifting side to side, the Daemon considered everyone else there. Pairing everyone up would be easy enough, but they would still need someone to oversee everything. Eze was their first choice, considering the Dragon man did not seemed all to inclined to fight. Rasteva trusted that he would be a fair judge.
That was however, until Skip demanded to ride the Dragon Man into battle.
Had Rasteva been capable of sputtering, they would have immediately done so. "What nonsense is this? You cannot ride a Brother in Arms into Battle!" The Daemon pointed a metal claw at Eze. "As it stands, he is in little position to fight, and you wish to RIDE Him?Let the poor man be and find another partner."
Who was raising this boy? Were they not teaching him any of the Basic Tenets of Arena Conduct?
Rasteva's thoughts were interrupted as ANOTHER newcomer practically teleported amongst them all.
This was getting old.
Listening intently as the person began speaking, the Daemon's eye gazed up at the Arena's stands. "This One agrees that those who will not be sparring should be up in the stands. However getting there from where we all stand will be difficult. Arena stands are meant to be filled from outside, if you leave the Arena and search you are sure to find the entrance for spectators." The Daeemon shrugged a metal shoulder. "Or, Rasteva can toss you up into them over the wall."
At first, Dawn didn’t seem to react to the sudden presence of someone who, not only was another member of her world, but a former member of her group- she merely frowned at first, brow furrowed in concentration as she continued to overlook the state of the woman drawn from the puddle, but as her appraisal apparently came to a close, she spoke.
“I think she might have some left in her...” Her voice was that of someone lost in thought, eyes still focused on the rise and fall of the stranger’s breathing for the time being, fingers pressed against her pulse. Her heartbeat was steady, at least, but there was a certain irregularity to her breathing that had caught Dawn’s attention. The mental manipulator had just reached out to begin an attempt at chest compressions when the woman had suddenly moved by her own strength, and began to cough up whatever fluid had been left in her lungs- a good sign, Dawn was sure. However, shortly after she had apparently recovered, the stranger began to speak what was, to the other, nonsense- something of wolves and steps and blood and bones. Perplexed, Dawn took a moment to puzzle out what the woman had said, before giving up and instead resuming attempts to assist her.
“Are you alright? You seemed like you were in there for a while.” She reached a hand once more, hesitated for a moment, fingers hovering above the woman, before placing a light touch onto her back. As she did so, Dawn became aware of two new presences nearby- two Erubescians- but reacted with little more than the same distracted attitude she had regarded Cain with. Her fingers wrapped about the pill given to her with a soft “thanks”, and tucked it away in her pocket for the time being- perhaps, later, she would put more thought into what had been handed to her and by who, but not now.
It didn’t take much logic to predict that Dawn’s response towards Kora would continue to follow the vein, and, indeed, her attention seemed to be too wrapped up at the moment to notice just who, exactly, was offering them help. She merely nodded gratefully, taking into account the state of the stranger’s clothes- completely sopping wet. While it was a bit presumptuous to assume that such a figure would be uncomfortable in such an outfit, it was still worth at least seeing whether she would need the warmth- or so Dawn thought.
It was obvious enough that once she wasn’t preoccupied with making sure that nobody was at risk of getting hypothermia or the like, the girl would be in for quite the surprise.
“I think she might have some left in her...” Her voice was that of someone lost in thought, eyes still focused on the rise and fall of the stranger’s breathing for the time being, fingers pressed against her pulse. Her heartbeat was steady, at least, but there was a certain irregularity to her breathing that had caught Dawn’s attention. The mental manipulator had just reached out to begin an attempt at chest compressions when the woman had suddenly moved by her own strength, and began to cough up whatever fluid had been left in her lungs- a good sign, Dawn was sure. However, shortly after she had apparently recovered, the stranger began to speak what was, to the other, nonsense- something of wolves and steps and blood and bones. Perplexed, Dawn took a moment to puzzle out what the woman had said, before giving up and instead resuming attempts to assist her.
“Are you alright? You seemed like you were in there for a while.” She reached a hand once more, hesitated for a moment, fingers hovering above the woman, before placing a light touch onto her back. As she did so, Dawn became aware of two new presences nearby- two Erubescians- but reacted with little more than the same distracted attitude she had regarded Cain with. Her fingers wrapped about the pill given to her with a soft “thanks”, and tucked it away in her pocket for the time being- perhaps, later, she would put more thought into what had been handed to her and by who, but not now.
It didn’t take much logic to predict that Dawn’s response towards Kora would continue to follow the vein, and, indeed, her attention seemed to be too wrapped up at the moment to notice just who, exactly, was offering them help. She merely nodded gratefully, taking into account the state of the stranger’s clothes- completely sopping wet. While it was a bit presumptuous to assume that such a figure would be uncomfortable in such an outfit, it was still worth at least seeing whether she would need the warmth- or so Dawn thought.
It was obvious enough that once she wasn’t preoccupied with making sure that nobody was at risk of getting hypothermia or the like, the girl would be in for quite the surprise.
Most would feel themselves a bit disconcerted at the prospect of being told they would face against someone claiming to be a walking radiation pile.
On the same hand, most weren’t too keen on running, metaphorical guns ablazing in this case, into battle with a variety of other beings from different worlds- especially when another of the participating combatants was a literal suit of armor, with no obvious flesh or weak points to be seen.
Stride took the pill between gloved forefinger and thumb, regarding it with the same amount of casualness one would a typical over-the-counter medication. A pain-killer, for instance, instead of something made specifically to keep the user from getting poisoned by gamma rays. In the back of her mind, the fighter mused whether or not taking it was necessary, or if she should simply be noble and offer it back up again. One of the perks of her bloodline was various odd little bonuses here and there- quicker reaction time, for one, or the fact that she hadn’t really aged all that much since about twenty years ago. There was a chance that she could have some sort of resistance to radiation, but, then again, her body seemed to like screwing her over whenever it saw fit. For all she knew, she would end up getting some hyper-death-cancer or something.
So, deciding not to risk it, Stride reached at her mask’s fabric with one hand and dragged it down, revealing the same snow-white skin as that on her arm, a few patches of scales here and there, and, as she popped the pill into her mouth and swallowed dry, a flash of fang.
The mask went up again, just as fast, and the woman nodded her appreciation to the little glowing guy. “Thanks, Smiles.” After all, while she didn’t exactly know the effects of thyroid cancer to a t, cancer typically didn’t come with sunshine and rainbows and giant fluffy sheep falling from the sky. At Rasteva’s affirmation that no weapons would be used in the battle, Stride began to unconsciously flex her hands, then, more consciously, move to pop her knuckles.
“Are we also supposed to not talk ‘bout the Fight Club?” Stride drawled. Even if the magical armor didn’t get the reference, it was still too good of an opportunity to waste, really. Makorai’s bringing up of his shooting skills after brought a bit of a chuckle from her- even in alternate worlds, it seemed, he was trying to overcompensate with something.
As time passed, more people began to volunteer for a round or two, with Kora being an interesting exception. There was Smiles, Iron Man, and now Robocop and some random chick cramping the gas mask style. While some part of her was aware that going up against the more solidly built volunteers (see; the people made either completely of metal, or mostly) would be a difficult task, another part of her was still revving for the opportunity. Taking down the Terminator would probably earn her some massive amounts of cred, after all, and as Rasteva continued to be...well, Rasteva, Stride continued to grow more impatient.
“Hey!” She called. “Stop showin’ your balls off to Kora; we got shit to plan out!” She paused, listening as the armored figure went on to say that all non-combatants should go up to the stands- something that was probably true, given that there were going to be a few faces punched, and she doubted that some of the more...pacifistic-looking types were too keen on getting hit for no real apparent reason. However, that brought up another question, something which Stride found herself voicing in the absence of anyone else.
“So, uh, is this gonna be a whole ‘Battle Royale’ type-a deal, or will it sorta be two people out here at a time?”
Asking the important questions, here, really.
On the same hand, most weren’t too keen on running, metaphorical guns ablazing in this case, into battle with a variety of other beings from different worlds- especially when another of the participating combatants was a literal suit of armor, with no obvious flesh or weak points to be seen.
Stride took the pill between gloved forefinger and thumb, regarding it with the same amount of casualness one would a typical over-the-counter medication. A pain-killer, for instance, instead of something made specifically to keep the user from getting poisoned by gamma rays. In the back of her mind, the fighter mused whether or not taking it was necessary, or if she should simply be noble and offer it back up again. One of the perks of her bloodline was various odd little bonuses here and there- quicker reaction time, for one, or the fact that she hadn’t really aged all that much since about twenty years ago. There was a chance that she could have some sort of resistance to radiation, but, then again, her body seemed to like screwing her over whenever it saw fit. For all she knew, she would end up getting some hyper-death-cancer or something.
So, deciding not to risk it, Stride reached at her mask’s fabric with one hand and dragged it down, revealing the same snow-white skin as that on her arm, a few patches of scales here and there, and, as she popped the pill into her mouth and swallowed dry, a flash of fang.
The mask went up again, just as fast, and the woman nodded her appreciation to the little glowing guy. “Thanks, Smiles.” After all, while she didn’t exactly know the effects of thyroid cancer to a t, cancer typically didn’t come with sunshine and rainbows and giant fluffy sheep falling from the sky. At Rasteva’s affirmation that no weapons would be used in the battle, Stride began to unconsciously flex her hands, then, more consciously, move to pop her knuckles.
“Are we also supposed to not talk ‘bout the Fight Club?” Stride drawled. Even if the magical armor didn’t get the reference, it was still too good of an opportunity to waste, really. Makorai’s bringing up of his shooting skills after brought a bit of a chuckle from her- even in alternate worlds, it seemed, he was trying to overcompensate with something.
As time passed, more people began to volunteer for a round or two, with Kora being an interesting exception. There was Smiles, Iron Man, and now Robocop and some random chick cramping the gas mask style. While some part of her was aware that going up against the more solidly built volunteers (see; the people made either completely of metal, or mostly) would be a difficult task, another part of her was still revving for the opportunity. Taking down the Terminator would probably earn her some massive amounts of cred, after all, and as Rasteva continued to be...well, Rasteva, Stride continued to grow more impatient.
“Hey!” She called. “Stop showin’ your balls off to Kora; we got shit to plan out!” She paused, listening as the armored figure went on to say that all non-combatants should go up to the stands- something that was probably true, given that there were going to be a few faces punched, and she doubted that some of the more...pacifistic-looking types were too keen on getting hit for no real apparent reason. However, that brought up another question, something which Stride found herself voicing in the absence of anyone else.
“So, uh, is this gonna be a whole ‘Battle Royale’ type-a deal, or will it sorta be two people out here at a time?”
Asking the important questions, here, really.
Khojin made a grunt of acknowledgement at Adira's departure, her eyes fixed on the horizon, trying to scan for the bridges Xin had mentioned. She was close to giving up when she finally spotted them; a series of thin brown strands, swaying like snakes in the breeze. She couldn't make out the landmasses at the other end, but confirmation the bridges were there served to back up Xin's statements.
"How many d'you think there are?" she asked, turning her eyes from the distant pathways. The fact there were multiples at all bade well for her insistence on splitting into teams; if Rend had intended for them to do so from the start, she'd have to remember to let Rasteva know she was right some more.
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She looked back up at the stands, gauging just how high the wall was. Fifty meters, maybe? Certainly low enough that she could Blink up there. Blinking while transporting someone else, on the other hand... After Rend had nerfed the stronger ones, Cybergoeth was a bit hesitant to try anything significant without prior testing. There was also the issue of finding someone to test with. She doubted there would be many volunteers, considering the end result could be... messy.
Rasteva's "offer" to throw people up there raised another possibility. Perhaps if the armor could toss one in the air, she could Blink up to catch them and then do another Blink into the stands? That was assuming she could even chain her Blinks that quickly or accurately, let alone that she could do it without leaving half her passenger behind.
She felt it would be best to explain these possibilities to the others present, finishing by asking if there was anyone willing to volunteer. and apologizing preemptively for any possible deaths which may occur from the aforementioned scenarios.
"How many d'you think there are?" she asked, turning her eyes from the distant pathways. The fact there were multiples at all bade well for her insistence on splitting into teams; if Rend had intended for them to do so from the start, she'd have to remember to let Rasteva know she was right some more.
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She looked back up at the stands, gauging just how high the wall was. Fifty meters, maybe? Certainly low enough that she could Blink up there. Blinking while transporting someone else, on the other hand... After Rend had nerfed the stronger ones, Cybergoeth was a bit hesitant to try anything significant without prior testing. There was also the issue of finding someone to test with. She doubted there would be many volunteers, considering the end result could be... messy.
Rasteva's "offer" to throw people up there raised another possibility. Perhaps if the armor could toss one in the air, she could Blink up to catch them and then do another Blink into the stands? That was assuming she could even chain her Blinks that quickly or accurately, let alone that she could do it without leaving half her passenger behind.
She felt it would be best to explain these possibilities to the others present, finishing by asking if there was anyone willing to volunteer. and apologizing preemptively for any possible deaths which may occur from the aforementioned scenarios.
Cain, seeing that the girl was fine enough for now, called back instead to Madison. "Does anyone recognize this landscape, then? Because it looks sorted like the ashland, but less ash and destroyed buildings!" He was then addressed by Drake, and he looked evenly at the younger boy. "Yeah, so did she." he said, indicating Dawn, making it sound like he was speaking of the mind manipulator's belief that he himself had died, instead of the fact that he had long ago predicted Drake's fall in battle but had been gone from the group before he could do anything to change that future. "I wonder why, it's not like you left me alone in unknown condition in an irradiated mansion with not even a note to say "We're heading south west to Helton" or a pack of supplies to get me through the separation." there was no bitterness in his voice, though, only an odd pensive quality. "Say, can you still do your revival thingy? Coming back form the dead and all? Or did you already lose that?" rather blunt, but honestly, the boy would learn soon enough that his immortality was temporary.
In the meantime, the suit of armour declared a tournament, and Cain stood up. "My abilities are stabbing people, luring people into dark alleys to stab, seducing women into dark alleys to stab, haven't used that one in a good many years, interpreting prophecies, indestructible shields, seeing the future and no promises on those last two, because Rend decided that it's no fun if I can predict the plot. I won't be participating, thanks." he then settled back down as Hel began to speak, and nodded along, understanding perfectly. "But it is a rare thief that shares jam made of stolen fruit, much rather would he hoard it all for himself." he replied. "Wolves hate fruit anyway, and sand might remember, but if drowned it can't speak." he patted her on the back. "My name is Cain, miss. What's yours? One of you get her bag." he then instructed the two gifted he had travelled with once upon a time.
In the meantime, the suit of armour declared a tournament, and Cain stood up. "My abilities are stabbing people, luring people into dark alleys to stab, seducing women into dark alleys to stab, haven't used that one in a good many years, interpreting prophecies, indestructible shields, seeing the future and no promises on those last two, because Rend decided that it's no fun if I can predict the plot. I won't be participating, thanks." he then settled back down as Hel began to speak, and nodded along, understanding perfectly. "But it is a rare thief that shares jam made of stolen fruit, much rather would he hoard it all for himself." he replied. "Wolves hate fruit anyway, and sand might remember, but if drowned it can't speak." he patted her on the back. "My name is Cain, miss. What's yours? One of you get her bag." he then instructed the two gifted he had travelled with once upon a time.
Verge resolved to speak to Madison in private and ask again, maybe the other didn't want to share the fairy's secrets in such a public place.
However, at the moment, he was preoccupied with being told that Madison, the lovely woman he was chatting up, was in fact, a man. He looked at "her" again, blushing just a bit, then decided to stall, speaking to the newcomer that had fallen upon Madison.
"I'm an ordinary human." he said, calmly so that he wound't agitate the scared being. "The only thing not ordinary is that I can summon that shadow thing over there. It's part of me, in a way. I've been told it represents my mind" he shrugged.
Hopefully, that would lead the others to underestimate him. The shadow they saw, now dancing and playing around, gave off a much different impression than the twisted true form hidden under all the illusions. "That guy over there," he waved towards the group by the puddle, "the one without wings, he came in yelling that it was a desert. If he's telling the truth, then yeah. It's a desert. I haven't left yet myself. And yeah, we don't really know what happened, but there is a powerful being keeping us here until we complete some kind of tasks it's set. Are those tattoos?" he then asked curiously, referring to the webs on the black haired boy's pale skin.
And then, having exhausted his list of things to answer, Verge had to face Madison.
"I'm not going to apologize." he said slowly, "because I don't think you're insulted, or else you'd have corrected me when I first called you ma'am. You do look very good though, and clearly." he laughed with just a touch of awkward, "you had me fooled. Nice to meet you, sir." he greeted, and the moment of not knowing what to say next was broken by a glowing man offering him a pill to prevent radiation poisoning. "Um, thanks?" he said, then looked around at his two human companions as if asking what they made of this.
However, at the moment, he was preoccupied with being told that Madison, the lovely woman he was chatting up, was in fact, a man. He looked at "her" again, blushing just a bit, then decided to stall, speaking to the newcomer that had fallen upon Madison.
"I'm an ordinary human." he said, calmly so that he wound't agitate the scared being. "The only thing not ordinary is that I can summon that shadow thing over there. It's part of me, in a way. I've been told it represents my mind" he shrugged.
Hopefully, that would lead the others to underestimate him. The shadow they saw, now dancing and playing around, gave off a much different impression than the twisted true form hidden under all the illusions. "That guy over there," he waved towards the group by the puddle, "the one without wings, he came in yelling that it was a desert. If he's telling the truth, then yeah. It's a desert. I haven't left yet myself. And yeah, we don't really know what happened, but there is a powerful being keeping us here until we complete some kind of tasks it's set. Are those tattoos?" he then asked curiously, referring to the webs on the black haired boy's pale skin.
And then, having exhausted his list of things to answer, Verge had to face Madison.
"I'm not going to apologize." he said slowly, "because I don't think you're insulted, or else you'd have corrected me when I first called you ma'am. You do look very good though, and clearly." he laughed with just a touch of awkward, "you had me fooled. Nice to meet you, sir." he greeted, and the moment of not knowing what to say next was broken by a glowing man offering him a pill to prevent radiation poisoning. "Um, thanks?" he said, then looked around at his two human companions as if asking what they made of this.
As Skip trotted around, giving out pills, Drake half expected him to stop and give him one as well. Perhaps he felt Skip had some moral sense. Then again, perhaps he was wrong. Skip had gone right over him, causing the boy’s eyes to narrow in irritation. Mild irritation, anyway. He didn’t exactly trust the pills, and would have declined regardless, but it was the lack of consideration behind it that peeved the boy. Skip had only passed him over because Drake could come back if he died - he knew.
Well, whatever. The pills were Erubesco science, most likely, and certainly not something he wanted tampering with his immune system anyway.
Though he still wanted to punch Skip again.
Drake glanced at Dawn out of the side of his eye, noting her lack of response to Cain. She seemed really focused on the task at hand, almost as if she were in a trance. It was certainly unusual for her. His attention moved back to Cain as he spoke, eyes softening a bit with slight guilt. “They left you there?” He couldn’t believe this even as he heard it. They never left anyone behind.
The Wanderers were a mess, that much was clear. This was why he needed to get back home, to try and fix things. He felt somewhat responsible, considering the choices that were made occurred when he was not around. If he could just get back and be a good influence on the group, maybe they would revert back to how things were supposed to be. They could go get Cain, bring him back home. That was assuming the winged boy would remember anything that happened in the Rend upon return.
“Lose my revival power? What are you talking about?” He asked, now looking a little troubled, “That can’t happen. It’s linked to my little brother’s spirit, isn’t it?” But even as he said this, it was clear in his expression that he didn’t fully believe his own words. Cain’s prophecies were always right.
Feeling some obligation to the prophet, the boy followed his request and looked around for the girl’s bag. It lay by itself a couple feet away, the only bag untouched thus far. Drake went to retrieve it, looking at the name with some curiosity. Helena… Strange. He didn’t put much thought into it though. Carrying it back over by it’s strap, he set it on the ground by her, opting not to rifle through it.
He had no need to mess around with someone’s personal stuff, after all.
“I believe this is yours.”
Well, whatever. The pills were Erubesco science, most likely, and certainly not something he wanted tampering with his immune system anyway.
Though he still wanted to punch Skip again.
Drake glanced at Dawn out of the side of his eye, noting her lack of response to Cain. She seemed really focused on the task at hand, almost as if she were in a trance. It was certainly unusual for her. His attention moved back to Cain as he spoke, eyes softening a bit with slight guilt. “They left you there?” He couldn’t believe this even as he heard it. They never left anyone behind.
The Wanderers were a mess, that much was clear. This was why he needed to get back home, to try and fix things. He felt somewhat responsible, considering the choices that were made occurred when he was not around. If he could just get back and be a good influence on the group, maybe they would revert back to how things were supposed to be. They could go get Cain, bring him back home. That was assuming the winged boy would remember anything that happened in the Rend upon return.
“Lose my revival power? What are you talking about?” He asked, now looking a little troubled, “That can’t happen. It’s linked to my little brother’s spirit, isn’t it?” But even as he said this, it was clear in his expression that he didn’t fully believe his own words. Cain’s prophecies were always right.
Feeling some obligation to the prophet, the boy followed his request and looked around for the girl’s bag. It lay by itself a couple feet away, the only bag untouched thus far. Drake went to retrieve it, looking at the name with some curiosity. Helena… Strange. He didn’t put much thought into it though. Carrying it back over by it’s strap, he set it on the ground by her, opting not to rifle through it.
He had no need to mess around with someone’s personal stuff, after all.
“I believe this is yours.”
Setting
0.00 INK
Rasteva took mental stock of the situation, eye disappearing from view as they thought quietly for a moment. Stride's question was a legitimate one. A traditional Tourney where two combatants at a time entered the Arena was a standard on many worlds. But given how late in the day it was becoming, it might prove too tedious for everyone. A Battle Royale was an interesting thought, but it would be more difficult to manage should things get out of hand.
But it would also be FAR more entertaining.
Eye blinking back into view, the Daemon spoke. "This One feels that allowing all who wish to fight to do so at one time would be highly preferred. The last Combatant standing will be crowned the victor." The Daemon was confident, even when they knew they would be far outnumbered once the fight began. But given that the Daemon could not feel pain or even tire, Rasteva had a bit of a leg up on the opposition.
Then again, what Mortals lacked in sturdiness, they more than made up for in imagination. They were remarkably good at killing things they didn't like, and the armored figure did not put it past anyone in the Arena to have a nasty trick or two up their sleeve. Rend's interference only made the Daemon all the more susceptible to them, and while confident in their ability, Rasteva was still quite wary.
But these concerns did nothing stop the Daemon from challenging everyone in the Arena to a fistfight.
"Come then. Let us get the Spectators to their seats, and then we can begin!"
But it would also be FAR more entertaining.
Eye blinking back into view, the Daemon spoke. "This One feels that allowing all who wish to fight to do so at one time would be highly preferred. The last Combatant standing will be crowned the victor." The Daemon was confident, even when they knew they would be far outnumbered once the fight began. But given that the Daemon could not feel pain or even tire, Rasteva had a bit of a leg up on the opposition.
Then again, what Mortals lacked in sturdiness, they more than made up for in imagination. They were remarkably good at killing things they didn't like, and the armored figure did not put it past anyone in the Arena to have a nasty trick or two up their sleeve. Rend's interference only made the Daemon all the more susceptible to them, and while confident in their ability, Rasteva was still quite wary.
But these concerns did nothing stop the Daemon from challenging everyone in the Arena to a fistfight.
"Come then. Let us get the Spectators to their seats, and then we can begin!"
Setting
0.00 INK
Kora took hold of the strange sphere in her hands, examining it closely, moderately suspiciously, before giving a nod.
"Huh. Thanks."
Hopefully she was not going to have to call upon strange supernatural forces to get the right outcome here, though she supposed it was nice to have the option.
The momentary image of her dropping some monstrous suit of armor on top of Liberty HQ...
...but she had no idea if this would count when they got back.
If they got back.
She took the sphere and placed it inside her bag.
"Given the gift and all I suppose it'd be vindictive not to call it square for now. Just in the future I'd prefer a warning before you try to cut me in half. Common courtesy."
Despite the nature of her arrival, Kora was feeling a little more at ease. It was partially because she'd gotten at least some measure of confidence from those round her as far as ideas and conduct went, though was probably more down to the fact that she was watching Skip dashing around like a child on a visit to the zoo, and it was hard to remain terribly hostile when that was happening.
The woman made her way over to the small group that'd formed around the girl who'd been drowning...or something. She didn't really look to be a great state of health, and was talking complete nonsense. Kora was not exactly the medical type, but she felt like being wrapped in soaking wet animal skins probably did not help the situation.
The Knight knelt down next to the girl and unfastened the horn toggles on the skins and pulled them off so the figure appeared to be down to the bottom layer, a rather ragged-looking greenish robe. The wearer put up no resistance, limp in her grasp, though she did apparently feel the need to respond to the man, Cain, who appeared to be talking a similar degree of nonsense.
"All fruit is...stolen." she mumbled, coming to lie on her side on the rocky floor.
"Only the trees can speak for it."
Kora extended a hand and lit it with a low level glow of heat, looking between the girl and the older man sceptically.
"You two sound like someone ran a conversation though one of those translator software things. You actually understanding any of this?"
Regardless, it did settle something in her mind that if they were going to receive penalties for not taking care of one another, it was going to be impossible to go charging off and leaving someone who was in no state to defend themselves.
It was probably quite fortunate that this pressing matter was occupying Kora's concentration. In doing so, it had prevented Kora's mind from making the connection between the soft-spoken girl with dark hair who'd been trying to deal with the situation, and the mind manipulator Dawn Memoli, the wanted criminal, terrorist and, the Knight's mind, the sole reason she had ended up disgraced and demoted and shipped out to the front.
Had she had that particular person in mind when she approached then things might have gotten rather more tense and Dawn would have run the risk of finishing up with several fewer teeth.
"Huh. Thanks."
Hopefully she was not going to have to call upon strange supernatural forces to get the right outcome here, though she supposed it was nice to have the option.
The momentary image of her dropping some monstrous suit of armor on top of Liberty HQ...
...but she had no idea if this would count when they got back.
If they got back.
She took the sphere and placed it inside her bag.
"Given the gift and all I suppose it'd be vindictive not to call it square for now. Just in the future I'd prefer a warning before you try to cut me in half. Common courtesy."
Despite the nature of her arrival, Kora was feeling a little more at ease. It was partially because she'd gotten at least some measure of confidence from those round her as far as ideas and conduct went, though was probably more down to the fact that she was watching Skip dashing around like a child on a visit to the zoo, and it was hard to remain terribly hostile when that was happening.
The woman made her way over to the small group that'd formed around the girl who'd been drowning...or something. She didn't really look to be a great state of health, and was talking complete nonsense. Kora was not exactly the medical type, but she felt like being wrapped in soaking wet animal skins probably did not help the situation.
The Knight knelt down next to the girl and unfastened the horn toggles on the skins and pulled them off so the figure appeared to be down to the bottom layer, a rather ragged-looking greenish robe. The wearer put up no resistance, limp in her grasp, though she did apparently feel the need to respond to the man, Cain, who appeared to be talking a similar degree of nonsense.
"All fruit is...stolen." she mumbled, coming to lie on her side on the rocky floor.
"Only the trees can speak for it."
Kora extended a hand and lit it with a low level glow of heat, looking between the girl and the older man sceptically.
"You two sound like someone ran a conversation though one of those translator software things. You actually understanding any of this?"
Regardless, it did settle something in her mind that if they were going to receive penalties for not taking care of one another, it was going to be impossible to go charging off and leaving someone who was in no state to defend themselves.
It was probably quite fortunate that this pressing matter was occupying Kora's concentration. In doing so, it had prevented Kora's mind from making the connection between the soft-spoken girl with dark hair who'd been trying to deal with the situation, and the mind manipulator Dawn Memoli, the wanted criminal, terrorist and, the Knight's mind, the sole reason she had ended up disgraced and demoted and shipped out to the front.
Had she had that particular person in mind when she approached then things might have gotten rather more tense and Dawn would have run the risk of finishing up with several fewer teeth.
Xinder Ouquid
The little girl seemed just as distracted Khojin was by the bridges off in the distance. However, she was the first of the two to break from the trance of trying to spot the bridges with nothing more than there own eyes. Primitives. She then said something about a Rasteeeva. Xin shrugged as took in the view again, waiting for his little box to go beep beep beep.
Then Khojin spoke again. Speak of the devil. Xin smiled slightly at the thought of the resemblance between the two. She wanted a guestimate of the number of bridges. Taking a moment before replying, Xin said "As many as it takes to either kill us all or please our inexperienced god."
Khojin chewed her thumbnail, musing. It would be better to investigate these bridges before the time came to use them, but she got the gnawing sensation (not unlike pointed teeth against the hard part of her thumb) that Rend may take issue with that. If they were going to see the state of the bridges, it would be when they arrived to cross them, and not before.
She swung herself up on to her feet in one fluid motion that at one point had her entirely off the ground. She stretched, hearing her spine crack and pop, then returned the armor sphere to its place on the front of her coat. There wasn't any point continuing to stare at the horizon, and Adira would doubtless be back with Rasteva (and possibly others) before long, so she figured she may as well get a full grasp of where her abilities stood at present.
She moved a couple paces away from Xin to give herself enough room that she could work herself out without endangering him or his equipment. She took a deep breath in and out, then began stretching her legs before something occurred to her. She quickly removed her armor sphere again and tossed it to Xin; she didn't want to risk any kind of interference for this. She also took off her coat, giving a small sigh of relief as the tightness around her chest was removed and her large, previously-bound bust was allowed to breath. She tossed the coat over to where the armored man sat as well.
Freed of any possible constraints, she rolled her shoulders, did a couple squats, and then kicked off the ground hard enough to create small clouds of dust where her feet had been just a moment before. She gazed at the ground, counting how high she went before reaching the peak of her jump and beginning her descent. She made a small noise of discontent after her feet made contact with the ground again. A twenty-fulm vertical wasn't bad, certainly not compared to others, but she could do better. She gave three small hops, each no more than a few ilms off the ground, then, when the bottoms of her boots were flat against the ground after the final hop, she bent her knees, one hand on the ground, and jumped as hard as she could.
The desert fell away beneath her. Off to her left she could just barely see the top of the Arena, and she gave a shout of victory as she began to drop back to earth. A cloud of dust greeted her as she hit the ground, and she coughed a couple of times before it cleared. "How high was that?" she called to Xin, looking up to where she'd reached the peak of her jump. "Between thirty and forty yalms, do you think? Toss that rock, I wanna see if I can hit it."
She swung herself up on to her feet in one fluid motion that at one point had her entirely off the ground. She stretched, hearing her spine crack and pop, then returned the armor sphere to its place on the front of her coat. There wasn't any point continuing to stare at the horizon, and Adira would doubtless be back with Rasteva (and possibly others) before long, so she figured she may as well get a full grasp of where her abilities stood at present.
She moved a couple paces away from Xin to give herself enough room that she could work herself out without endangering him or his equipment. She took a deep breath in and out, then began stretching her legs before something occurred to her. She quickly removed her armor sphere again and tossed it to Xin; she didn't want to risk any kind of interference for this. She also took off her coat, giving a small sigh of relief as the tightness around her chest was removed and her large, previously-bound bust was allowed to breath. She tossed the coat over to where the armored man sat as well.
Freed of any possible constraints, she rolled her shoulders, did a couple squats, and then kicked off the ground hard enough to create small clouds of dust where her feet had been just a moment before. She gazed at the ground, counting how high she went before reaching the peak of her jump and beginning her descent. She made a small noise of discontent after her feet made contact with the ground again. A twenty-fulm vertical wasn't bad, certainly not compared to others, but she could do better. She gave three small hops, each no more than a few ilms off the ground, then, when the bottoms of her boots were flat against the ground after the final hop, she bent her knees, one hand on the ground, and jumped as hard as she could.
The desert fell away beneath her. Off to her left she could just barely see the top of the Arena, and she gave a shout of victory as she began to drop back to earth. A cloud of dust greeted her as she hit the ground, and she coughed a couple of times before it cleared. "How high was that?" she called to Xin, looking up to where she'd reached the peak of her jump. "Between thirty and forty yalms, do you think? Toss that rock, I wanna see if I can hit it."
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View All » Add Character » 31 Characters to follow in this universe
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Cain Merrano
"...He took away my powers. Well played Rend, well played."
Vladimir "Verge" Moonfall
"Dammit, why couldn't you have chosen Gale?"
Dawn Memoli
"It looks like anything is possible, then."
Amos
Not enough.
Kichiro Ren
"In the end the weak fall and the strong survive. Power is absolute."
Makorai Saika
If I can find some alcohol it's a vacation.
Knight Kora Norrevinter
"For King and Country!"
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Most recent OOC posts in The Rend
Re: The Rend
It's supposed to be :P I'm currently incapable of writing anything, sorry, but I'm not holding anyone up with Cain, and only two people with Verge. Who else are we waiting on? I plan to post soon, btw. Just need a little bit more time.
Re: The Rend
I think everyone is recovering from being sick or just busy. (I haven't posted cos I don't have anything to post)
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XD That's a fabulous drawing!
And also um...is anyone still around? I've been sick, which is why I haven;t been able to post recently. Hopefully, i'll be better soon though :P
And also um...is anyone still around? I've been sick, which is why I haven;t been able to post recently. Hopefully, i'll be better soon though :P
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If yu're all going to be posting art it would feel amiss for me not to use this as Skip III exists in this RP.
Skip riding the radioactive Reith-Dragon to become King of the Wasteland.
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So... I got bored in Calculus and I ended up with this.
It is meant for another rp, but I liked it enough to share.
It is meant for another rp, but I liked it enough to share.
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Hiya guys. Sorry you haven't heard from me in a few days. As some of you know I am a ridiculously busy human and am dealing with some things. I may not be able to post for a bit. So so so sorry to those of you I left hanging. If it's okay with the rest of you, Echo said it would be okay for me to simply say that Skip is, well, skipping along with everyone. He'll pretty much do what he's told if he views the teller as an authority figure, because he's helpful, helpful Skip. And there's even enough going on that he could feasibly be shut up long enough to watch the show, haha.
I'll try to read up periodically so I still know what's going on if and when I make more time.
I'll try to read up periodically so I still know what's going on if and when I make more time.
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Yeah!! I've only really gotten serious about my art for a few years now!!! You just gotta keep at it!!!!
also i too am pretentious hipster trash with a tumblr art blog
also i too am pretentious hipster trash with a tumblr art blog
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Shhh noooo do not say such things! You just have to keep drawing and you'll see crazy improvement. I've been drawing on and off for years and I still have a ways to go. Keep practicing and you'll get there!
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Sweet art man!
I have a tumblr where I post all my crap because I'm a total Hipster
http://doodleforge.tumblr.com/
I have a tumblr where I post all my crap because I'm a total Hipster
http://doodleforge.tumblr.com/
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I am perfectly okay with this pacing.
That aside, if anyone would like to view my arts, because there is so much, just feel free to look through my deviantART gallery: http://hyrosauce.deviantart.com/gallery/
That aside, if anyone would like to view my arts, because there is so much, just feel free to look through my deviantART gallery: http://hyrosauce.deviantart.com/gallery/
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Oh no no no! Don't worry about it at all. Post when you can. I just assumed that everyone was super busy and found it a little odd lol.
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Sorry, sorry, sorry! I'm still getting over my general sickness, and still pretty busy, haha oh god I'm such a failure hahahahaha
Luckily, I have Wednesday off because of "Pope Day" here, so I can see if I can try to post then? I'm terrible, I know, but I'd rather wait until I'm confident in my posts before getting things going again from my end. ^^;
Luckily, I have Wednesday off because of "Pope Day" here, so I can see if I can try to post then? I'm terrible, I know, but I'd rather wait until I'm confident in my posts before getting things going again from my end. ^^;