Sutoratosu
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Pokemon Reborn Development Blog
Pokemon Rejuvenation Development Blog
Posts posted by Sutoratosu
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The blow to the helm only seemed to piss off an already rampaging bear. Stellio turned on the remaining foes as gore slicked his blade, eyes burning behind his visor like twin cauldrons of jet black flame. And his fury seemed especially focused as he charged towards the man with the minigun...
Lightning crackled along his fist. a miniature storm was wrapping around his blade. His voice tore across the field in a mighty war screech that in truth, sounded more appropriate coming from a dragon than it did a mere man. The air itself seemed to distort. The stench of burnt ozone permeated the area...
If the fucker was not dead by the time he got close enough, Stellio had every intention of ending this himself.
Moves
I. Stellio switches out the Passive "Rampart Aura" with the trump "Grand Cross"! [Conditional: If the Badass Bruiser is already dead, he will attack any remaining Enemies with the Headsman instead!]
(Self explanatory) [The headsman deals {5d8+Str(12)} Slashing/Dark damage, with a 30% chance to inflict "Dark Adverse", making the target take 1.3x more damage from dark element for the next 3 turns. Stellio recovers 25% of the damage dealt whenever he attacks, minimum of 1hp restored.]
II. Stellio uses Grand Cross to punish the Badass Bruiser if he's still alive! [Conditional: if the above conditional went off, he will instead attack any remaining enemies with the headsman... again!]
(Grand Cross consumes all the user's TP to deal a base of {Str(12)+Ess(10)}*2 Lightning/Crushing damage on the target, with an additional {Str+Ess} added on for every 25 TP over 100 the user is upon use. Assuming Stellio still has only 137 TP by the time this action occurs, he will deal a minimum of {Str(12)+Ess(10)}*3=66 damage on the Badass Bruiser. Stellio recovers 25% of the damage dealt whenever he attacks, minimum of 1hp restored.)
Loadout
SpoilerStellio
24/28 HP12/32 MP
137/200 TP
Essence: 5 (+5)
Constitution: 4
Dexterity: 0
Intelligence: 6
Resistance: 14
Strength: 6 (+6)
Synergy: 0Relevant Perks
Mana Sphere: [Grants an "MP Meter" which is used to fuel magic actions. Max value equal to {20+Int*2} fills at a rate of {Int} per turn.]
Tactical Devestation: [Grants a "TP Gauge" which is used to activate special techniques. Max value 200; fills at a rate of {Damage Dealt/Received+Essence}]
Ogre of Whitewall: [Stellio gains +1 Strength & Essence every time he deals damage or is damaged. Caps at x2 Str/Ess]
Slots: 7/7
Actives (2)
Diablo's Needle- "Devil of the abyss, ye power hath thrusted onto me; Thrust instead through my sworn enemy!" A home made spell created by stellio, it operates by firing several needles of dark mana to peirce the flesh of his foes. What it lacks in raw power, it makes up for in the number of strikes... potentially. [Cost 5 MP, Dark Element. Launches 4 attacks which deal 1 pure damage each. These attacks can either be focus on the same target, or split among several.]
Fearful Impact- The user attacks with such ferocity that it strikes terror into the very hearts of their victim... [Cost 40 TP. Free Action. The user's next melee attack will inflict "Fear" status on the target, lowering their Main Offensive Stat and Their Res by the User's Essence for 2 turns.]
Passives (2)
Years of Service- A veteran with decades of experience behind them knows their way around the killing field better than most... [Passive Ability. The user always has a minimum of 2 moves in combat, rather than 1. This ability is not eligible for any upgrade.]
Rampart Aura (will be swapped out with "Grand Cross" if the bruiser is alive)- Stellio seems to radiate a stalwart aura of a defender in battle, forcing foes to face him in open combat before they can advance further to strike at his allies [Enemies cannot attack Stelios's Allies until they take at least one hit from Stellio. They can however, force Stellio to attack them once as a free action, taking damage equal to the formula of Stellio's currently equipped weapon, and nullifying the effects of this passive on them for the rest of the battle. If Stellio has no currently equipped weapon, the damage enemies take defaults to 2d6+Str]
Ogre's Feast- The power of the abyss can rejuvenate those who were born in it, molded by it... but sometimes, it requires a debt to be paid. A debt that can only be paid in blood.~Current Effects~[Stellio has 25% Lifesteal, with a minimum of 1hp regained per instance of damage he deals]
Trumps
Grand Cross (Will be swapped in for "Rampart Aura" if the Bruiser is still alive)- A greatsword technique where the user strikes at the very fabric of reality with their blade, causing a massive bloom of lightning and pressure to engulf their unfortunate victim as a rift violently opens and closes just as quickly... [Consumes all currently available TP once activated. Cost 100 TP Minimum, and can only be activated while wielding a 2-handed sword. At base, deals (Str+Essence)*2 Crushing/Lightning damage on a single target, with a bonus (Str+Ess) damage added for every 25 points over 100 the TP gauge was at upon use.]
Tricks
Equipment (2)
The Headsman- A single-edged, 2-handed sword used by executioners. Its broad, curved blade is well suited for parting heads from shoulders
~Current Effects~[Deals 5d8+Str Dark/Slashing Damage. Has a 30% chance to inflict "Dark-Averse" Status on hit, lasting 3 turns; units suffering Dark-Averse take 1.25x more damage dark-based sources. By choosing to spend 5MP when they attack with this weapon, the user may channel mana through it in order to convert their attack from a melee one into a ranged one, which deals the same damage and has all of the same secondary effects as a normal strike.]
Ebony Plate- A suit of black-tinted, full plate armor forged from damasc steel. Highly Resistant to rust, and far more durable than common forms of steel. It almost seems to cut a menacing profile around it's wearer, with its spiked pauldrons and helm...
~Current Effects~[Bound. Grants +11 Res]
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Arya
She had whirled on her heels the moment she heard the bitch's footsteps, and nigh immediately, the adrenaline pumped anew. Beaten and exhausted though her body was, it had once more began to manifest a thin coating of memories- shifting grey crystal that danced and shimmered with the waters of time. Slow...too slow, she'd already spent so much energy just getting away from the bitch, and she practically had to fight to try and get back into the state she'd held before.
Thankfully, or bizarrely, She didn't have to win that fight. Natalie had already rushed forward and met the killer herself, and with the exchange of words that followed, something finally clicked. And yet all Arya could do as the psycho finally gave up and retreated was stand there, shaking her head in disbelief as she let go of something she didn't even know her mind was clinging onto... and with it, the spreading coat of memories receded and vanished.
"Natalie... is Nayru? But... how? I knew this had something to do with her, but fucking hell, what's even happening here!? First my old math teacher gets gutted, then some scythe weilding bitch comes after me and I start... fucking with time I guess... and now the goddess of reason and the mind is apparently... my girlfriend. You can't... can't..." Her leg began to throb. So did her palm. lot of things did, actually. Now that her life was out of immediate danger, slowly but surely the pain of her ordeal trickled back in. Tiny pin pricks and pulses of stinging, searing discomfort in her palm and along her calve, and a much duller throb around her sternum. Before long she was bracing herself against the kitchen counter, fighting to keep the world from spinning "Can't make this shit up...none of it makes any... goddamn sense. Am I.... losing it?"
On 12/28/2017 at 12:16 AM, Clownpiece said:"So, this is crazy. Can I suggest we move talking to my mom up to immediately?"
It took a good half a minute for her to snap back to reality, shaking her head "Huh? Oh...y-yeah...We should...How did you...?"
And she stopped herself there. There were no end of questions burning at the tip of tongue, but as it was she already felt just shy of falling over. Launching into a deluge of inquiries wouldn't help. Besides, hopefully the answers would come to her on their own... just as she had earlier, she heavily doubted Mother Opium was oblivious to... to whatever had gone on here today.
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J4, EXECUTE the Initiate, Canto back to G4...again.
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Loadout
SpoilerStellio
28/28 HP6/32 MP
0/200 TP
Essence: 5
Constitution: 4
Dexterity: 0
Intelligence: 6
Resistance: 14
Strength: 6
Synergy: 0Relevant Perks
Mana Sphere: [Grants an "MP Meter" which is used to fuel magic actions. Max value equal to {20+Int*2} fills at a rate of {Int} per turn.]
Tactical Devestation: [Grants a "TP Gauge" which is used to activate special techniques. Max value 200; fills at a rate of {Damage Dealt/Received+Essence}]
Ogre of Whitewall: [Stellio gains +1 Strength & Essence every time he deals damage or is damaged. Caps at x2 Str/Ess]
Slots: 7/7
Actives (2)
Diablo's Needle- "Devil of the abyss, ye power hath thrusted onto me; Thrust instead through my sworn enemy!" A home made spell created by stellio, it operates by firing several needles of dark mana to peirce the flesh of his foes. What it lacks in raw power, it makes up for in the number of strikes... potentially. [Cost 5 MP, Dark Element. Launches 4 attacks which deal 1 pure damage each. These attacks can either be focus on the same target, or split among several.]
Fearful Impact- The user attacks with such ferocity that it strikes terror into the very hearts of their victim... [Cost 40 TP. Free Action. The user's next melee attack will inflict "Fear" status on the target, lowering their Main Offensive Stat and Their Res by the User's Essence for 2 turns.]
Passives (3)
Years of Service- A veteran with decades of experience behind them knows their way around the killing field better than most... [Passive Ability. The user always has a minimum of 2 moves in combat, rather than 1. This ability is not eligible for any upgrade.]
Rampart Aura- Stellio seems to radiate a stalwart aura of a defender in battle, forcing foes to face him in open combat before they can advance further to strike at his allies [Enemies cannot attack Stelios's Allies until they take at least one hit from Stellio. They can however, force Stellio to attack them once as a free action, taking damage equal to the formula of Stellio's currently equipped weapon, and nullifying the effects of this passive on them for the rest of the battle. If Stellio has no currently equipped weapon, the damage enemies take defaults to 2d6+Str]
Ogre's Feast- The power of the abyss can rejuvenate those who were born in it, molded by it... but sometimes, it requires a debt to be paid. A debt that can only be paid in blood.~Current Effects~[Stellio has 25% Lifesteal, with a minimum of 1hp regained per instance of damage he deals]
Trumps
Tricks
Equipment (2)
The Headsman- A single-edged, 2-handed sword used by executioners. Its broad, curved blade is well suited for parting heads from shoulders
~Current Effects~[Deals 5d8+Str Dark/Slashing Damage. Has a 30% chance to inflict "Dark-Averse" Status on hit, lasting 3 turns; units suffering Dark-Averse take 1.25x more damage dark-based sources. By choosing to spend 5MP when they attack with this weapon, the user may channel mana through it in order to convert their attack from a melee one into a ranged one, which deals the same damage and has all of the same secondary effects as a normal strike.]
Ebony Plate- A suit of black-tinted, full plate armor forged from damasc steel. Highly Resistant to rust, and far more durable than common forms of steel. It almost seems to cut a menacing profile around it's wearer, with its spiked pauldrons and helm...
~Current Effects~[Bound. Grants +11 Res]
The black knight wastes no time as he rushes ahead of the others, and by the time the battle has begun, he radiates a stalwart aura as the Psychotic locals charge in... little do any of them know, striking his allies will not be a painless task. Black flames still radiate from his blade, as an even darker aura begins to coat his body, and condenses into his finger tips before firing into the crowd of assailants. Lances of horrid black energy single out one poor fool in particular... the one Stellio has already marked for death.
Moves
I. Stellio spends 5mp to cast Diablo's Needle, focusing all it's shots on a single Psycho Axeman!
(Diablo's Needle launches 4 ranged strikes that deal 1 pure damage each. Stellio regains 25% of the damage dealt when he attacks, with a minimum of 1hp restored {4 Attacks=4 HP recovered}. Stellio Gains +1 Str and Ess everytime he deals or takes damage {4 attacks=+4 Str and Ess}, and gains TP equal to {Damage dealt/received+Ess}->30 TP after all 4 hits have landed. The Psycho Axeman he attacks will be released from the limits of "Rampart Aura" {see loadout} for the rest of the battle.)
II. Stellio will then hack away at that same Psycho Axeman with the Headsman!
(The Headsman deals {5d8+Str(10)} dark/slashing damage; with a 30% chance to inflict "Dark Adverse", making the target take 1.3x more damage from dark-element for the next 3 turns. Stellio regains 25% of the damage dealt when he attacks, with a minimum of 1hp restored. Stellio Gains +1 Str and Ess everytime he deals or takes damage, and gains TP equal to {Damage dealt/received+Ess(10)}.)
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Arya
She watched for a few precious seconds as one girl vanished, and the other proceeded to lose her goddamn mind. The sane, rational part of her wanted to pick up the scythe she'd dropped and end the bitch now, remove the threat she posed before she could recover.... if she would recover. But the scared chimp part of her mind wanted nothing more than to turn heel and get the fuck out of there while she had the chance...
And as the assailant began to tear her top off and claw at her own tits, the scared chimp won out over the rational part of her mind, and Arya was gone around the corner and dashing back towards the side door. Natalie, had to get her and get away from here, find someone, anyone, and pray that they wouldn't put her in a damn institution for this story, though even as she reached the door, she doubted it. Not even she herself could fully believe what she'd just lived through.
Battered, bloody, singed, and out of breath, she didn't even notice as the layer of crystal formed over her skin again and shattered into millions of grey motes that faded in the wind. As she turned the handle and pushed her way inside, she was again dressed in normal attire, though the gash on her calf and the burns on her palm remained.
"NATALIE! We....we.... we HAVE to get out of here!" She practically stumbled into the kitchen, slamming the door shut behind her as she called out. Her breathing was still haggard "Miss Bates... she's Dead, some psycho outside was waiting for me... still out there.... we gotta go, find someone, anyone...don't know how long she'll stay down..."
She knew she was going fast. That she was frantic, panicking, but she prayed she'd just trust her, or at the very least take her current state and the injuries she bore as proof something was very wrong here...
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"Just like old times, isn't it Lenneth?" his grip on the lance tightened, as the winged steed neighed in defiance. Her eyes practically bore into the swordsman in the distance. Mercadier nodded, with an ever so breif smirk.
The old gal wanted to get out of this hell hole just as much as he did. And she was going to be just as vicious in making it happen...
"Hmph, eager for a fight as ever I see... good, good. Glad to know your spirit's still strong."
Like burning embers, crimson flashed when he next opened his eyes.
"But enough talk. Let's repay a few debts now, shall we?"
J4, Autohit the Initiate, Canto back to G4
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Stellio's blade was already out by the time he'd exited the pod. Dark eyes focused on the screaming savages from an even darker visor, as the knight expanded his senses and found precisely what he'd been hoping for- Mana. Just as abundant here as it had been in the wasteland. He wasted now time attuning himself to the flow of the world, subtley trapping some of the energy into a small reservoir of power like a sieve panning for gold. Moments later, his blade was alight with black flames...
"I do believe it is what they called the land we originally were dumped in" He interjected as he kept vigilance over the tribals "And we didn't particularly end up there by choice. More like our benefactors seemed convinced it was the best place to toss us after their briefing. Regardless, we solved the issues that realm faced, at least partially, and now, here we find ourselves, in yet another wasteland. Almost makes one wonder, will most other worlds we'll encounter look like dusty shite as well?"
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Arya had never been so relieved to have something so bizzare occur before in her life, when the girl appeared and fire-bitch backed off. Trying to catch her breath, she eyed Kindle and the scythe for a moment, before giving a confused glance to the upside-down girl as the she began to spout a riddle
Quote"Time moves forward. So many splashes of color, so much purple. Purple fire burns in love. Burn it down, make it purple. Make her pay in time. A snap of the fingers, a snap of the neck. Mend your heart, make it bleed. Love is disaster. Pretty purple penguin. Time moves forward, make her spill the purple."
Time.... time... memories? Arya supposed in a way, one could interpret memories as just... the imprints of time, plus it the fire-bitch herself had described it in similar context earlier. Perhaps that was how she was doing any of this, just calling forward things from their places in the past, based on the imprints she had of them? The stuff about purple and fire was lost on her for a bit, but at the mentions of 'love' and 'penguin' made her momentarily blush, as the memory of the day before crept to the forefront of her mind... Natalie always had thought of the little birds as cute... but, how did any of this mess relate to her? Make her spill the purple? What the fuck did 'purple' even mean in this context? Make her pay in time? Well, it was pretty damn obvious her chances of winning here will jackelin and shit, and jackelin just left town on the last train... so what, run away for now, come back after she'd done...whatever the girl was saying? Yeh, that was definitely a plan arya could get behind...
Whatever the answer was, she didn't have time to sit here and ponder the intricacies of the girl's words. Still panting, she managed to get together a rough inkling of what the girl wanted, nodding profusely "Time fuckery....Purple fire... Love...Penguins... more purple...spill the purple....something to do...with Natalie maybe? either way... got it. And yes, Please. I'll take.... any help I can get here...."
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Arya's futile fight for survival
She visciously grabbed at the hand out of instinct, bare nails digging into flesh as she tried to wrench herself free, adrenaline again kicking in. Much like when she'd been pinned the first time, her cries were more like that of a cornered animal, not caring of the licking flames that had begun to emanate off the fanatical wench or the pain she could begin to feel as her palm heated ever quicker.
But in her desperate, almost instinctual struggle, as her own storm grey eyes met the pyromaniacs, there was one thing and thing only that Arya could see; it was madness. Pure, and utter. The same type of madness that drives this world. And it only made her body struggle harder to free itself, the exhaustion beginning to eat at her be damned, the normal limits of her strength be damned. Even as some rational part tried to tell her it was hopeless, that this was a struggle she could not win, the cornered animal shouted with everything it had, focused just as much at Kindle as it was her own nagging self. And loud enough to cloak the subtle *click* from her gauntleted hand...
"SHUT UP!"
And in the same moment, she took every once of raw physical strength she had, further bolstered by the second burst of adrenaline she'd felt today, and focused it all into one viscous knee kick with her armored leg, bringing the metal clad limb flying up towards one target, and one alone- right to Kindle's clams. simultaneously, something dropped from her hand, and rolled along the ground along with it's pin. Yellow and Black markings along its side and some very apt print "stun grenade" gave it's function even before the blast could go off- which Arya had already braced herself for in her desperate state, knowing from past experience exactly what one felt like.
one eye was squeezed shut, though to any onlooker, it could've easily be from the pain of the heat slowly licking at her. The mil-spec plugs she'd conjured from memory in her ears at the same time wouldn't fully stop the blast, but they'd be better than nothing... and unlike the first time, her screaming served more than just frustration. pressure and light. It was all about mitigating the internal pressure in one's ears on detonation, along with the light the eyes were exposed to...
Quote"Sometimes, discretion is the better part of valor..."
Her mother's words echoed this time, in the back of her mind. She knew this was a futile fight... she'd never entertained delusions of trying to win- only delusions of escaping to live another day. And delusional or no, the only way that had even a remote plausibility was for their to be an opening, and from what she'd already seen, the chances of the cunt punt doing the job was minimal... she could only hope it would distract the bitch enough as the Stunner went off.
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"'Nani? Did those rounds just.... fucking shatter on impact?" She shook her head, glancing at the gun before tossing it to the side. Before it even hit the ground, it had shattered into hundreds of glittering motes. For all the motivation dad's words had given her to get her ass up and fight, she once more found her mind racing as to what the hell to do. Hell, she didn't even really know what she was already doing, or how, she'd just... thought about mom's old sidearm in the heat of the moment. It'd been something, anything to potentially turn the tables, and well... boom, there it'd been, right in her hands. Just like those times she'd showed it to her as a kid...
She could only scowl as the bitch mocked her. The part about the "Past having no power over the present" gave Arya something to think about- if those two shots she'd squeezed off did nothing... would anything else she bothered trying? The gun had felt real, in her hands, and so too was the recoil as she fired it. Even when she cast the damn thing aside, it fell with all the same weight a pistol of it's make should've. She once more focused her thoughts on the memory, and it was right back in her hand, formed out of a crystalline aura that surged over her finger tips. What the hell had she meant? If the stuff she called by remembering them couldn't just be empty illusions, so...
12 hours ago, Clownpiece said:"You'd probably get back to running. If you go now, I'll kill Nayru first and you can have another couple of minutes alive."
"Whoa, wait, WHAT? Nayru!?" She asked, but instead of an answer, what she got was a nice view of the maniac showing off yet again, this time spinning the scythe like it was a goddamn helicopter blade. Almost instictually, she raised a gauntleted hand to protect her face, as a wayward stone about the size of her fist came hurtling in. The shock wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, but it beat the alternative.
"Why are you here!? Who the fuck are you!? What are you!?" She called out, dodging the debris as it hurtled towards her and beginning to backpedal... only to quickly realize from the speed of the woman's charge that backpedaling would do shit and quickly diving to the side and rolling away before she could be made into mincemeat. Her mind grasped at something, anything to use in defense as she got back up, and like that, the memory of a shabby old pipe that could've belonged in any alleyway anywhere came to mind. Her mother's sidearm, obviously useless her, shattered, the motes of light crystalline, glowing dust it produced forming into the long profile of that lead pipe. knowing full well the psycho wasn't done and would just charge again, She almost felt silly, as she held it at the ready. Especially considering she'd given up a goddamn gun for this peice of shit, but well.... the damn gun had failed it's one job, and the pipe had a far better chance of swatting away some of the crap this chick was slinging.
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Arya...
She lay there, breathless as the scythe loomed overhead. Closer, closer, she could feel it with every step its wielder took. Even as she feebly tried to crawl away she knew it was worthless, only delaying the inevitable now that'd been knocked aground. Oh how familiar it was, the sensation racking her entire being. To be helpless. To be worthless. To vainly struggle in this constant battle for survival, when the game had been rigged from the very beginning, and the odds forever against the favor of her and dreks like her everywhere.
Yet she kept trying to fight this pointless battle. She didn't know why... what did she really have to live for? What had she really accomplished, in the time she'd had? Nothing. Born of nothing, raised in it, molded by it. Just the same as her mother, who'd gone off and enlisted as soon as she was old enough, shed blood and saved lives in the name of her country, and for her service was tossed aside as the worthless, broken tool of the state she'd become. Just as her father, born in chains, how he would live and die dictated by the whims of an unjust system perpetuated by a wretched and festering society.
And yet, even as the defeatist thought entered her mind, she could not help but realize, there was an inherent difference there. Between her father and her mother. One had simply lied down like a dog and simply accepted defeat, after devoting so many years to something she believed in, something she trusted, but still being cast aside despite her service and her faith in the mission. The other had spent his whole life as the lesser to others, had been wise enough to recognize the reality of his situation, the foul mechinations of the system all around him... but he had kept pressing on, despite knowing it was all rigged, that he has no hope of truly breaking the chains he'd been beset with since birth.
She asked herself, why? But she already knew why, had known why for too long to remember. He'd done it for her. And before her, he'd still had something to keep pressing forward. Despite the laughable progress of what little he earned. Despite all the blood and sweat he shed working one hazard ridden, god awful job after the next, his life as expendable as a mule's, easy to replace as a broken tool. Despite all the times there was no food, and no game to turn into food, and he'd gone hungry so she didn't have to. Despite all the other times he had to sacrifice, simply so she could have what little she did. Never complaining. Never getting discouraged- weary, yes, but discourage, disheartened? Never. As stoic and dependable as a rock in the midst of a storm.
And what had she done with what he'd worked to give her? What had she made of herself, to honor his endless toil and his sacrifice for her?
Nothing but a smartass snarker who was about to get herself killed. That was what.
"Dad...I'm sorry" She slowly lay her head back into the dirt, by now the futility setting in, and the scythe that had been looming over her coming done to end her worthless existence. There was something hot and moist, just behind her eyes. She made little effort to stop the tears as they flowed "You gave me.... everything you could... and instead of making it matter, I go and get myself killed...I'm...I'm-"
Quote"This life is the only one you have."
Words from long ago. Words that surged to the forefront of her mind, as the end drew ever closer.
Quote"Whatever you choose to do with it, live with purpose."
Words that with every last one she recalled, she felt something welling inside of her. Something that made her mind renew and body renew their efforts, bit by bit.
Quote"This world chews up the weak, and spits them out without mercy. It is cold, callous, and unforgiving. Even brilliant lights cease to burn, if they falter."
A fire, burning brighter, brighter by the moment, like a miniature sun within her soul. The memories of that fateful conversation blocking out all else. Strength returned to her arms, her teeth grit, her eyes glinted. The Scythe was nearly down...
Quote"If you learn nothing else from me, Arya... please, learn this. You must either find or make your own meaning in this world, if you've any hope to survive. Let no one else dictate it for you as you search, and Once you find it, do not let them take it from you either. Do not forget what or who you are, for the world surely will not. Wear it like armor, and they cannot be used to harm you. And when you die... make sure you do so with no regrets."
SpoilerAnd by the time it finished it's descent, Arya was gone. With something she could not name driving her body, the words of her father driving her mind, she rolled out of the killer's reach with frightening speed, just as the killer's scythe met nothing but empty earth. She fixated on the girl, eyes unnaturally bright as a thin film of crystal and soft grey light moved it's way up her body as she reached out, and grasped hold of something she did not even know was within her. Voices, countless voices, images, people, places, things- things she had known, things she had clung to, and things she had lost, all flowing across the surface of the film like some ethereal mirage.
From head to toe, it engulfed her. Just as suddenly as it had manifested, it shattered with a burst of slate-grey radiance, a scream accompanying it- raw, unbridled, more like that of a cornered animal finally retaliating than a human being. No sooner than the inhuman screech of defiance came, did two shots ring out for all the camp to hear, and hot, ethereal lead conjured of dreams and memories sped their way towards Kindle.
Arya rose from her crouching stance, fully expecting the bitch to keep coming and keeping the weapon- a weathered, medium caliber pistol, standard issue within the Nayu Armed Services -Leveled at her assailant's center mass. Gone were the tears in her eyes, gone was the fear now. All that was left a slowly burning contempt- both for the girl who wielded the scythe, and the girl who'd been on the ground mere moments ago, just as ready to accept as unjust a death as this as some pathetic dog would be. The crimson had left her eyes, once more storm grey as they had in years prior. So too had the virgin white hues darkened in her hair, black as sin and smoother than silk. Slate Grey half circles run up and down the entire length of the right side of her body, though only the half of her face was exposed to show it, where it arranged to encircle her own eye and before radiating out over the rest of her skin, like some bizarre war paint.
Gone was the t-shirt, jacket, and shorts she'd worn, gone were the cheap sunglasses. In their place, a dark grey dress extending down to her calves, A long sleeve covering her left arm, clad in a black ballroom glove that danced with countless motes of celestial light that randomly shifted in their intensities and position. The outfit was sleeveless on its right side with a matching slit running from the right hip down, exposing an arm and leg now clad in an immaculate ebony-hued armor, adorned with a celestial display matching her glove. Twin belts had formed around her hips, one of bearing an empty quiver while the other held numerous empty pouches along it's length, just waiting to be filled...
Quote"Let no one else dictate it for you as you search, and Once you find it, do not let them take it from you either. Do not forget what or who you are, for the world surely will not."
One last time, father's words echoed, as the transformation finished, and the last of the pale grey light faded from the world.
"I won't." She answered them through clenched teeth.
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((OOC: NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOOOOOOOOOOPE NOPE.))
ARYA
"Oooooh shiiit...miss... bates?" Almost immediately after spotting the body, Arya had stopped in her tracks. No end of things ran through her mind, as she took in the scene. As many times as she'd gutted and cleaned her own meals, with everything her father had taught her, all the sight of the burned innards serve to do was quicken her pulse, make her mind begin to run even wilder with a barely contained wave of panic. Try though she did to tear them away, her eyes remained fixated on the scene, burning every last detail into her mind. Almost subconsciously, she began to backpedal, seeking to put as much distance between herself and the carnage- and it's cause, whatever the hell could even do this type of damage to a person -as she could. It was only when the killer spoke up that she finally managed to focus her gaze somewhere else
Quote"Unfortunate timing on her part. If she'd waited a little longer to call you, I wouldn't have to clean you up."
The rising trepidation in her gut was undercut by confusion, as she stared at the girl's outfit. Before she could ask anything though, her eyes focused on the weapon- obviously the thing that had just cleaved her old math teacher in fucking two like she was butter, and anything she could've said died on her tongue. Except for one thing... one thing she shouted as loud as she could, once the- Arya didn't even know what she was -started marching towards her
"NATALIE!!!!!!"
Having already been backing away even before she'd noticed the killer, heart pounding, adrenaline pumping, and fight or flight instincts taking over, Arya promptly turned on her heels and dashed back the way she'd come around the building exterior as fast as she could. She wasn't much for genuine prayers, but by the goddesses, she was doing it now, praying to Nayru or... hell, whoever the fuck might be listening up there, that she could reach the side door and get both of them out of there, and away from psycho-scythe-bitch...
-
"Godsdamn it, man... don't encourage her to-" Stellio mutters, a gauntleted hand gripping the bridge of his nose as he sighed. He'd seen enough of necromancers eagerly scouring the killing fields, gods damn it. Before he could finish however, the sound of something hitting the side of the ship, and the light shake it caused, caught the knight's attention
"Hmmm... how odd. Could be nothing..." he slipped his helm back on, hand resting on the pommel of his blade "OR.... it could be something that in a good few minutes, will wish it was nothing. I will be back, soon enough"
And with that said, he marched out of the room...
---------------------------------------------------------------
A bit of searching later, and Stellio found no obvious signs of intruders on board. What he did find however, was much more perplexing. The dark skinned mage they'd met in the wasteland, sitting and poking at some generously sized.... contraption? Looking as though he expected the damn thing to rear up and bite him in two at any moment...
"What in the gods names is this thing?" His voice echoed as he approached Vitor "I presume this is what hit us earlier?"
-
Arya
Well, at least they'd be totally lost about this together. That was something, right?
"Yeh... yeh, that sounds good." She nodded with a smile, before turning back to the dishes she dried with a nervous chuckle "And uh, yeah. We probably should... better she hears it right from us, I suppose"
Oh yes, that would be an.... extremely interesting conversation, Arya could feel it now. Even if she was fairly certain Mother Opium would take it in good graces, there was still something to be said of the sheer awkwardness of explaining how things had gone with her little task, when they got back. Assuming the woman didn't already somehow know as Natalie said, that is.... which Arya wasn't certain made the whole prospect of that inevitable conversation better, or worse. Speaking of which....
"Should I?" she glanced at Natalie, ever so briefly... "...nah. She wanted me to get to the bottom of this, and well, one way or another, that's pretty much what's happened here... no real point bringing it up, given well.... how things actually turned out. Does make me wonder, how much did Mother Opium already suspect, when she put this together?"
The answer came surprisingly fast to her: probably most of it, if not all. She certainly wouldn't put it past the headmistress... Natalie was her own daughter and all.
-
"And uh.... I....I..." She what? Not even she knew. Never really thought too much of this stuff before, given well.... she was a goddamn drek as far as most people cared. Just some pathetic Mack who lived with her equally pathetic father out in the woods, barely scraping just below the poverty line. No one had ever wanted her like.... well, this before. She'd never expected someone to either. Infact, it had been easy to put it from her altogether, focus on more important things back then. But lo and behold, here it was. Staring her right in the face. Such a twist, it was like one of those crappy, worn novels she sometimes used to convince the old librarian to give to her instead of throw out.
Yet, try and be cynical about it though she did, it wasn't so easy to write off as one of those shitty romance stories. Thinking about it, Natalie was the closest thing she had to a friend, period. The one person who'd actually bother to talk to her and whom she could stand talking to, told things no one else had heard, or ever would hear. One of the few she felt even remotely safe enough to drop the snark and the smartassery, let out a glimpse of what she was really like. She could feel herself blushing even hotter now...
"Is... is this what it feels like? She already knows me better than anyone else here- hell, she's probably the only one who actually knows me" yet still, something hesitated. The cynical little part of herself. The part that warned her that this would never work. That it sounded too good to be true, because it was, and she was only setting herself up for pain later on. Not for the first time in the four years she'd been enrolled, she wished dad was here to give some of his sage advice. But just as with all the other times that wish was made- he wasn't. She'd have to figure it out on her own...
"Can I really not trust even one person like that? Is it really so asinine to just take a chance? So what if it.... if it doesn't work? What do I have to lose, what have I ever had to lose?"
Her cynic was swift and blunt as a hammer: Her life. The one and only person she could actually call a friend. Her scholarship. Well, her life constantly teetered on the edge, as far as Arya was really concerned, so that was nothing new. She was used to being alone too, hell, aside from her dad she'd been alone up until Mother Opium so graciously became her benefactor. Beyond even that, in the times when her and Natalie weren't able to talk, which was most of the time, she was still alone. So the change on that front wouldn't be very much either.. would just be returning to the way things had always been.
As for her scholarship... well fuck, the cynic was really scraping the bottom of the barrel, wasn't she? Arya doubted Mother Opium would go revoking her sponsorship over this- if anything, Arya was actually doing as she instructed in the first place: figure out what was wrong.
To hell with it. There was something here, she may not have known what, but at least it felt genuine. Better to take the chance and risk getting burned, than being too damn afraid to acknowledge it in the first place. Maybe this was some indication that things didn't have to be quite as shitty as they'd always been. And if she was wrong about that, and this was just the way shit would always be... well it's not like she would really be surprised at this point. She took a solemn breath, steeling herself as she looked at Natalie,
"I... I never really thought someone would ever want me. Just didn't think about it at all till now, but... I... I think I might feel the same. Never really been with anyone before, but...um.... I'd be willing to give this a chance, if... if you are too..."
-
Cheryn
"The weirdo in- ah fuck.... I forgot Merlin ordered her ass to stay here," Cheryn muttered to herself as she finally stood. She had the use the wall as a guide for a bit, but for the most part she'd recovered enough to not pass out simply from walking. "Well....the younger kids seemed fine when I was in there a while ago. And as disgraced as Charity is at this moment, and as much as she's rightfully guilting herself over it, I doubt she'll make another stupid fuck up anytime soon." Her voice was blunt, her tone almost alright venomous as she spoke of the other woman, before she shook her head. This wasn't the time to get into that. And there was also another matter that she recalled, now that the immediate disaster was over. Taking a deep breath, she steered the conversation back on course.
"... anyway, I think they'll be fine, for the time being. And it's true that Meltdown and Accelerator aren't accounted for, as far as I know. If they're up to their own devices... oh gods. Alright, let's find them. Before we do though, Beza was helping me look for you, a while back; we were searching Tailow's room when she got spooked from the explosion here, told her to stay put while I checked it out. Once I've calmed her down and sent her back to the barracks, we can figure out where those two are. "
-
She blocked out the petty argument in the distance. Just as she tried to block out the stabbing pain that bloomed from the back of her eyes, sliced its way through the general space of her head, before finally ending in the back of her neck- right where the stem connected to the spine. His attack may have been over, but she could still feel the lingering sensation of assault and violation, coating her mind like a foul residue. Memories were fogged, senses were dulled and only now beginng to return to full strength, but most of all...
They were horrified. No longer it was it speculation, beyond of a doubt, they had lied to her. They had used her. And they had tried to cast her aside once their purpose was made null, save themselves. Even now, she heard the frantic cries, their whispered nothings, almost indecipherable with the speed they came, but quiet enough that if she really wanted to, she could've ignored them. The jig was up. They knew, Andral knew, and now she did as well. It was plot that mere days ago, she hadn't even imagined as feasible. Yet here they were....
"This is where you've been, all this time?" She felt as though she wanted to scream, to make no end of foul evocations cursing their names and very beings. Yet try as she might, her strength still waned from the madman's hellish fever-dream, and all she could verbally muster was a quiet groan of frustration "This....entire...fucking time. You were with me ,and you were silent... all the times you could've said something, done something, prevent a disaster or at least help me mitigate it... and you did nothing. When I stumbled like a fool, trying to figure out things on my own, you were silent. When I was fighting for my life, being hunted like an animal, you were silent. When Avada was dying right infront of me, and I was too much of a coward to try anything, you were silent then too. What did you pigs ever really see in me? Some hideyhole you could hunker down in? What were you hiding from, why did you lie about time running out, of having to stop what you taught me? Were you just going to let me take the heat of whatever made you run in the first place? Is that it? Was I really just a fucking meat shield? ANSWER ME!"
A great, nigh overwhelming silence, washing over her like a wave of static electricity. The beast huddled around her, bodies tensed, looking to one another, uncertain what to do, even if they should do anything at all, with the raw torrents of impulses beginning to arise from her. It was to them as if they were suddenly connected to something far greater, far more ancient, than their mistress had ever been. Faint, but even so, still nigh overpowering. There was no answer. The great presence, seemed to convene amongst itself, deliberated for a few moments...And then it was gone. Shrunk back down to a mere pinprick- try as Lucille might to force it back out, it was like digging through a stone wall with a wooden spoon.
"....." The beasts were silent, but backed away as she trembled. But instead of the explosion they all anticipated, there was a bitter, weak chuckle "Silence... why am I not surprised? I followed you pigs, trusted you pigs, and in the end, you were just using me as some pawn. And now that you've been exposed and I want the explanation I'm due, you hide again...."
Fuck them. Fuck all of them. And Fuck the madman as well. She'd spent far too much of her life living under the heel of that pig and the Maven's alike, even if she'd only now realized that what her tutelage under the latter was. Infact, she was glad of what she'd done in the fever dream- the bastards were going to up and leave as she was destroyed because of them, eh? Or so they thought... but they'd forgotten one thing.
The fools had given her not just their secrets to safeguard, but their own damn essences; and in the process of setting up all their little protections, they'd practically bonded themselves to her, just like she bound beasts. And of course, she had eventually noticed the it over the years, toyed with the connection, fiddled with it, tried to see if she could use it to bypass those protections, even just a little. None of those attempts had ever revealed a back door, but they'd revealed something... If she wanted to, she could play with those bindings like rope, twist them together, entangle them. That knowledge had never been of much practical use though... Until the fever dream. Now the connections they'd made with where as tangled as some vermin's nest. And not a god damn one of them could undo it, and neither could she... It may have also made brute forcing her way past their restrictions nigh impossible, given the connections she once used were about as chaotic as a section of spaghetti code, but....
25 minutes ago, Projeck said:"WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP! SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP.... CAN JUST FUCKING GET PAST IT YOU ASSHOLE! YOU DON'T THINK I FEEL GUILTY FOR ALMOST HITTING YOU WITH SOMETHING.... THAT I DON'T FEEL GUILTY FOR BLINDING EVERYONE IN THE SURROUNDING AREA??! THAT I FUCKING BROKE LUCILLE, PRACTICALLY!?!?....I DON'T NEED YOU TO REMIND ME OF HOW MUCH I FUCKED UP, BECAUSE I WAS FUCKING THERE, AND I HAD TO SEE THE FUCKING CONSEQUENCES FIRSTHAND, SO JUST FUCKING SHUT UP!"
but try as she might, the damn argument had finally risen to levels she literally couldn't shut out. Head only throbbing even more from the outburst, she had Vera hop onto one of the seats, and take a look at what the fuck they were doing...
Only to receive a very vague, roughly converted soundmap as she borrowed the bird's eyes, followed nigh immediately with a wave of sensations that were all too familiar; all manors of tastes and smells, mixing and mingling like some party for divorcees, creating abominable combinations that turned her stomach and threatened to make her heave right then and there. Within an instant, she cut off the connection. The pigeon turned and gazed at her, cocking her little head with confusion. And in that moment, Andral's words again flashed across her mind...
Quote"And I shall also claim the sight you have drawn from your thralls. Enjoy, Lucille..."
Shaking her head, not wanting to accept the obvious implications, she made another go at it, this time using one of the dragons. And this time, coming far closer to almost puking. Teeth clenched, stomach churning like a storm, there was one thing on her mind as she slowly accepted the facts.
It mattered not how powerful Andral Co had become, since that fateful night. He would die. And He would die by her hands, and her's alone.
-
"Ah yes, this should not be an issue" Stellio spoke up. He pulled out the wrench he'd found in the armory, before he removed his gauntlets. "You see, in my world, there is a method to this- imagine if you would, weaving a basket, fabric what have you. It's much the same basic principle, instead of using reeds or loose strands, you are taking Mana itself and weaving it inside of something..."
And so the lecture began. The light in the room began to fade as Stellio gathered mana and went to work, forming the raw energy into countless strands of darkness that pierced the metal of the wrench, yet seemed to cause it no harm. Throughout the demonstration, the knight took the time to explain how one needed to instill the instructions and information for the mana to act on while they wove it in, and that the latticed, tight structure of the weave would prevent the magic from dispersing uselessly once one stopped.
If only his words matched his performance in the actual work though. But, well, it had been several years now since he'd last performed the feat on anything- a few snags here and there were to be expected. But nothing prepared the knight for what the finished product turned out as....
Spoiler17 v 1. Success! Stellio figures out mana weaving.
Quality: 1. Well then.
Random Bitz: 99. Hold on to your butts, people.
Stellio snarls the mana several times as he makes his attempt. No matter what he tries, the only thing he figures out is how to enchant handheld items with a set of glowing, pink, fully-functional butterfly wings they can use to flutter about. However, since said items aren't intelligent in any way, they do so aimlessly."....What in the goddamn?" He only shook his head, as the enchantment took hold and a pair of...glowing, pink wings sprouted from the side of the wrench, and it fluttered up into the air, aimlessly. But it was not the first bizarre thing the knight had witnessed this day, and he was quick to recover "Ahem, well yes, I may be a bit out of practice, as you can plainly see... but hopefully that was clear enough to give you the basics. Here, try your own hand at it-"
With that said, he held out the Hammer he'd found in the armory for the Angel to use.
Spoiler10 v 15. Partial success!
Quality: 10.
Random Bitz: 53!
Solara figures out how to make strings of mana fairly quickly, and sets about weaving them with more enthusiasm than skill. After some experimentation, she learns to fill items with a white mana charge that is spent on impact to debuff the victim's dexterity by her synergy for 1 round. As this is a level 1 trick, only 2 items may be kept charged at a time. If a third is charged, the oldest one harmlessly loses its charge.Stellio and Solara have learned to enchant stuff with mana! Uh...well, sorta... look, it's a start, ok?
"Hmmmm, for one's very first time, this is impressive. Well done, well done indeed. A nice start..." He commented once she was done. Then turning to Aquila "Well, I do believe you wanted that mace looked at. Care to let her try?"
-
"I....she's....could it really be?" Words failed him, and so he said nothing more as the others left them be. He took a halting step forward towards the mare, her plumage white as virgin snow. And just as white as he'd remembered it. The moment she heard his voice... she turned. And he saw it...the scar on her left flank just behind the shoulder blade, the one on her leg as well.
Wings beat on the air, the mare wasted no time as she let out a joyous neigh. Before he could even blink, there she was, practically knocking him over and nuzzling his face with a quiet nicker.
"I'm.... glad to see you too, old gal. I was almost certain they'd.... no, nevermind. You're still safe.... I still have someone left"
The mare locked eyes with the knight, then drifted her gaze to the group who'd accompanied him. Then to the door. Then back to him. He said nothing at first, but the look in his eyes, the storm of muddled emotions she could practically feel radiating off of him.... it was all she needed to realize what had happened.
SpoilerHer previous jubilance faded like quick as a candle in the rain, as she consoled him with another nudge. It was all he could do to reach up and stroke her snout, hands trembling even now.
"They're....gone, Lenneth. We're the last two left."
"I was powerless to do anything but watch...I told them we'd get out of this, yet all I did was fail them, time and time again."
Quote"No! N-no! Mercadier, listen to me! This..... this....wasn't.... your....fault. There are.... hands... who bear our blood on them. But yours... yours are not....among.... them..."
He paused. For just the briefest of moments, he was at the healer's side again. The air stank with blood and decay. Just as they did now, his hands trembled- not from causes his own, but rather the withered palm he held in those final moments. Cold, weak, mouth stained with his own blood. And yet with his final breaths, of all the things he could've said, of all the different ways he could have damned him for what had befallen them... he had chosen that instead.
"Do you still think that is true, Keiser? Do you still think I am blameless in all this?"
He looked into the dying man's face, expecting an answer. Keiser's lips, weak, chapped, bloodied as they were, mustered the last of their strength.... and just as he was about to answer-
"huh!? what, wha-....tch" Another nudge, this one so forceful it made him step back in reflex. Lenneth's neigh finally righted present from past, the mare's eyes looking him up and down in worry "I...I suppose I....nodded off, for just a second. Yes, yes, that must've been it"
He knew from just a look into those eyes, she didn't buy it. But for now, she let it slide, turning her attention to.... new group. They looked like an even more motely band of misfits, from her reckoning. What really drew her attention was the rogue though- as cloaked and shady as she remembered. With a nigh skeptical tone, she snorted at them before turning back to her rider.
"I....don't know what to think of him either, Lenneth. But well, so far as shifty as he seems, there may yet be some actual good in him...." the girl's unconscious body left only injured rather than killed came to mind. It was almost ironic really, had their situations been different and it was mercadier striking the final blow.... there was little chance she would've gotten such mercy. Perhaps it bespoke of some basic decency in the rogue.
Or perhaps it was simply a sign of Zantillin's old attachments. Why.... hell, that girl, she'd been shouting about being a retainer afterall, her name was what? Alinda Freja? Alendra Freyja? eh, something like that. It didn't ring a bell for him, but he'd not be surprised if the rogue knew her from... before all this. Infact, given what Mercadier overheard him saying to her afterwards, he was nigh certain....
...
...
...
He shrugged. Whatever. Lenneth was safe, saddled, and in.... much better condition than he could've ever hoped. At this point, he couldn't care less if the rogue and freya girl had been old lovers. And in all fairness, shifty as the little bastard initially seemed, there were other things mercadier had noticed as well.... such as his response earlier. He supposed, it wouldn't hurt to let up on the scrutiny, just a little.... ever so insignificantly slightly...
For now.
With their reunion finished, the knight lead Lenneth back to the others, staying silent when he found them in the middle of some banter. No point interupting, he figured, they weren't out of this hell quite yet. It may well be the last chance they got...
Not that he'd any intention of going down. Yet. There was a debt to repay afterall, and only one way to collect.
"Hmph.... perhaps your blood may not be on my hands, keiser... but rest assured, there will be blood on these hands soon. I only wonder how long until it lies on my heart."
-
-
"Oh?" Stellio said, choosing to... gloss over the mention of the witch's figure. He was not blind, but there was more to a man than the simple functions of his biology. Even now he could still feel his wife's amulet, stone cold against his skin under the armor. Some fat good it had done her, that night in Rhime "Hmph, how... odd. She didn't seem particularly adverse when we met earlier. Come to think of it- I was thinking about exchanging some old notes for a particular tome. Though she did say she wanted to meet the rest of you lot before finalizing any deals... oh well, by now I'm sure one of you has gotten interested in that mask she had and made an offer- no big loss."
"Yes, yes, indeed it wasn't, stellio. As if the book would've changed anything anyway"
-
On 11/23/2017 at 9:21 PM, KosherKitten said:
Caliber
Caliber watched in silence as Cheryn slowly smothered the fire. She could see that the shield mage was at her limit just as the fire was finally snuffed out. Caliber didn't exactly feel guilty over what she'd done, but she did feel sort of relieved that Cheryn had stopped her from killing herself. In hindsight it felt like a worthless way to go. "Thanks for that." she mumbled in Cheryn's general direction. "So, um, I guess we should head back and help supervise the little ones? ...Though I think the ones who really need supervision, aside from myself obviously, are Meltdown and Accelerator." Though she didn't like to show it, Caliber cared deeply about all of her fellow freaks, not just Tallow. Even if they tended to avoid her, she had watched them all from afar and knew much about them. Perhaps she was lonely at heart, she wasn't sure what exactly. Something had drawn her to watch over the others. It was from that very watching that she had come to despise this horrible, horrible room.
"Don't.... mention it...." Cheryn managed through clenched teeth. The fires were dead by now, but she made no attempt to stand, not with the world spinning. On the one hand, she was almost impressed that she'd managed to singlehandedly put out a flame that rampant, with nothing but a couple well placed shields and charms, at that. On the other, her exhaustion right now was... less than optimal, to say the least. Hell, if Calliber wanted, she could've easily tried to pull something, right here, right now, and it would be all Cheryn could really do to throw up a barrier between them... nor would there be any real chance of her managing to catch her again if she took off.
Luckily Calliber seemed at least somewhat thankful at the gesture Cheryn had made. But didn't change the fact she had overextended here. Maybe she was just being overly critical of her own progress, maybe it was just a sign she needed to work up new wards specifically for beyond-the-pale scenarios like this. Didn't matter, something would need to be done. And that was to say nothing of explaining all this to Merlin when she returned. But...those were all matters for later. For now....
"Yeh, I guess we... probably should. Don't know what the others might be doing, but.... anyways-" She paused for moment, now that the dizziness and vertigo was beginning to pass "One thing though. Promise me something? That you'll never try.... this again? And I don't mean just the fire, either. Look, if there's anything you ever wanna talk about, anything eating at you, there are... better ways than this. I wouldn't mind listening or trying to help- and I'm sure none of the others would either. Just... just try to talk to someone from now on, okay? You guys aren't alone here anymore... and I know Merlin and all the rest of us would sooner die before we let any of the crap that went on start again. You don't have to deal with this by yourself."
-
21 hours ago, kj1225 said:
Aquila shrugs as he leads the way.
"I think she has some risen dead following her, but nothing I'd call a wraith... Anyways, she might have more running about but I would have left before then. Scared the nice witchy girl and I felt kind of awkward. Partly because I kept staring. Kind of wanted that to go unnoticed y'know?"
"I see, then little else has likely changed..." The terror knight answered as they walked, something in his voice that was.... hard to discern, "Also, witch girl? What, is there another with us besides Freya? Actually, I do believe I recall seeing...someone far too young to be fighting, earlier. Yes, yes...Do you mean her? The blonde child?"
-
Dishes. Didn't really surprise Arya. Wasn't that big a deal either, all things considered; what with dad out either trying to find odd jobs or barter whatever he could, she had always figured washing things up was the least she could do to help out. That and it truly was a basic yet essential skill, for those who lacked the luxuries of middle class living. That was of course, assuming they even had a roof and for walls, or cutlery to eat and cook with. Or something to eat at all.
"Well, could be worse..." Arya muttered, deftly taking, drying, putting away and moving on to another dish, in a steady, rhythmic pattern "Especially considering...yesterday. Um...about Yesterday, by the way...."
She trailed off, face again beginning to flush at the memory.
[IC] ANKL. Part I: Awakening
in General
Posted
Arya
Letting the... moment pass as the two embraced, Arya nodded with a deep bow once she was finally addressed, a gesture reserved for so few people in her life, she could count all of them on a single hand. Well, she tried to bow, at least. In her current state she didn't manage more than a slight inclination before she winced and stopped, the spot on her back where the fire bitch drop kicked her beginning to throb anew, along with her sternum- wouldn't surprise arya if both had bruises.
"Hello to you as well, Mother Opium," She responded in an almost formal tone, utterly devoid of the snark she so often showed her instructors and peers "I suppose we do. Inquisitor...? I presume that's whatever title the bit- girl who killed Miss Bates held?"
It reeked of something vile, the word did. Simply hearing it uttered was enough to give her a bad feeling, given the context of what she'd just experienced. The little fire bitch had mentioned being assigned a task and all... and she'd been quite fanatical about it at that. For fuck's sake, she'd started tearing apart her own chest, and had still come after them despite the injuries. She should've killed the bitch when she had the chance. Taken that Scythe and gutted her like she did Bates- but no... the stupid monkey part of her brain only concerned with survival had wanted to run, and she'd been impulsive enough to listen to it.
"Well, that choice is definitely gonna come back to bite me in the ass now." She couldn't help but think "I'm probably on someone's shit list now just for doing.... nothing. Fucking hurray, just my luck I guess... still don't understand why nothing I tried before that managed to even scratch her though..."