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Desperation --- Roleplay of Pairs

Started by Taichii, January 18, 2012, 02:48:37 am

Dokurider

The carriage was just around the corner. Immediately, Clayton hid himself behind the crate again. Hugging his knees, he blended into the gritty bricks of the wall and ground and the wet pine wood crate perfectly. Silently, he waited for the carriage to move on by, but when he realized that it had stopped at the mouth of the alley, the hairs on the back of his neck rose.

Behind him, he could hear a pair of steps approaching. "Maybe they heard me scrambling for cover? Well, there's no way they can see me." he reassured himself. As the steps got to their loudest, they stopped, giving Clayton a moment to estimate that they were only a few feet away from him now. Clayton tried to look at whoever was behind him out of the corner of his eye. All he could see was a part of trousers and black and white Oxfords shoes, both very high end.

While Clayton was trying to make sense of who was pursuing him, the man spoke. "<Come out.>" That command was different from any magespeech he had ever experienced. This wasn't magical logic trying to trick him or convincing him to come out, his body was moving on it's own to fulfill it's true master's wishes.

It had become a waking nightmare. No amount of force or will he exerted prevented his feet from shifting underneath him and rising from behind the crate. He was paralyzed in his own body, helplessly watching as his body dispel the camouflage that had covered him and turned to face the voice.

Dynablade

Two down, a good start. Now the difficult section would begin in the dusty home, air heating up. Steps from the one with a shield were steady, he sure of upper body protection, and he was right. But Quint was a fast learner, the lesson from the past couple days that fights are different from spars. Most times there was no time for chivalry. Feeling the mood of their battle, Quint would wait for Shield to approach, keeping still on a side of the ladder. When his opponent would thrust forward, Quint sidestepped the stab, ducking underneath the ladder, putting it between the two. Shield refused to follow, stepping around towards Quint, soon finding himself in a game where Quint constantly kept the ladder in the middle, much to Shield's frustration. Before long he got frustrated enough to try and stab through the rungs of the stepladder, a costly mistake. Quint tried to block the attack with his clothed arm, but the dagger cut through flesh in a couple areas where the rag was too thin or missing, blood slowly trickling from the wound. Still, he was able to grab the offender's arm, pulling it down, elbow caught in a rung. From here it took only a little wrestling to pry the dagger from Shield, Quint acting surprised, pointing it at Shield.

"So what now?" Quint maybe was getting a little too cocky with two down, the leader just now prying his sword from the table. He was certainly stronger than the rest and that blade too sharp for the tatters around Quint's arm. Past Machete, that mage was his biggest priority, but after this long without acting.. Maybe he was scared of hitting friend along with foe? It also seemed that these struggles were bringing out a perhaps dormant side of Quint, since he was now sure that this group save the leader only knew the basics about fighting, one guy says no to their intimidation, then punches someone in the face and they're falling apart.

"Are you gonna keep fighting with toys, or are we gonna fight like men?" Half a boast, half strategy. He'd certainly have a better time of it if everyone was unarmed.

Dokurider

Seeing the monk lock down Shields with that ladder, Brass and Junior realized this was the best chance they were going to get. Brass in particular was sure he could counter this monk's kung fu shenanigans. This monk will not get anymore chances to brag. And together, both Junior and Brass rushed the monk down, confident he could not defend against the both of them. Meanwhile, unable to get inside the action, all Machete and Longknife could do was watch the situation unfold. Blackjack was still on the ground, and the scrawny mage continued to hang in the back, face concentrated with worry seeing Quint eying him intently.

Dokurider

He was a impeccably well dressed man. A black single breasted jacket with charcoal pinstripes slimmed his profile. His grey and white hair hung freely to his shoulders. By his side and holding an umbrella over him was an also sharply dressed woman. Her robin egg blue sleeveless dress outlined her body and was complemented by her matching arm gloves. Short black hair in a bob cut, gold dangling earrings, pale green eyes, she and her master contrasted the dull brown trodden streets and the weathered wood of the buildings surrounding them.

Clayton had dispelled his camouflage and was now facing the both of them, only able to look into his black eyes. Any attempt to look elsewhere was corrected immediately to be focusing at the center of his eyes. Even opting to look at the whites of his eyes was met with resistance. All he could do was wait for his next command.

"<What is your name?>" he asked, mild with disinterest. "I am Clayton Mizuhara." Clayton answered instantly and clearly. His very own tongue and lips formed the words and his lungs and throat gave them life before he could even think about objecting. "<Why are you in Dorter?>" the master continued. "To destroy my former employers, The Pals at the Tavern." Clayton had surrendered to watching his fate unfold before him. "<What for?>" "I worked for them for a number of years, but they sold me out to the Black Platypus."

"I see. <And what does running around on the streets, looking like a vagrant accomplish?>" he observed. Clayton's white and gray wig was fighting a losing battle against his natural hair for the real estate of his head. His leather vest and sky blue tunic was soaked and covered with dirt. His face was smeared and streaked with dirtied make up, swelling and bruising from his beating very apparent.

Clayton related his plan of destroying The Pals at the Tavern to the master. It managed to make him raise his eyebrow in interest. "Not a bad plan." He paused to exchange looks at his escort. "There seems to be more of a story here then I imagined. At the very least, you can tell me more about the Black Platypus and the ninja culture as a whole. Like it or not, they seem to be a force I will have to deal with very soon and my knowledge on them has fallen behind the times. You will accompany me to dinner at my estate. There, you will tell me everything I want to know."

And with that, he motioned to his freshly varnished ebony black and verde green coach, it's gold trimming glistening in the light. Clayton heavily made his way over to the coach, unsure of his fate. He dared not use his powers, even to alleviate his pain, now hitting him with full force and making climbing into the carriage difficult. He sat himself beside the master's attendant. The master, sitting on the other side of the coach, told the coach driver to head to his manor. It was the last thing anyone said for the rest of the ride.

Taichii

"Anita dear~~ where are you?" Taichii shouts as he swings his blade from left to right searching beneath the shadows that looms thw swampy grounds....
He closed his eyes...
The chirp of the crickets sounded much clearer... He feels the cold breeze of wind as it touches his skin.... he can smell the aroma of the white flowers that he is near at...
His other senses enhanced as he removed his sense of sight..
he tries to "see through his mind" Taichii differentiates every sound, smell and feeling that he comes across with.. after a few minutes.. he managed to get used to the other feelings , sounds and odors...
Suddenly... he heard a different kind of breathing from his right...
Please do share your ideas and suggestion for my project:
FINAL FANTASY TACTICS : LEGEND OF MANA

Join our RP :)
"Desperation"

"PAIN. THAT'S WHAT KEEPS YOU HUMAN"

Dokurider

Clayton found himself at the foot of a large dining table inside a small yet lavishly designed dining room. On the other side of the table sat his captor, analyzing Clayton. He had changed into his white satin dining clothes. Clayton himself was in new and obscenely high fashioned white satin. He had been changed out of his clothes, bathed and his wound's treated by his staff. Only his assistant remained in the same clothes as before and sat in the middle of left side of the table. She seemed completely disinterested in her master or his captive. Clayton was hungry and his last meal had been literally garbage, but his uncertainty made it difficult to appreciate his beautifully garnished chicken course. The heat radiating from the hearth only served to make him feel like a cooking piece of meat. He had to eat, however, he was being judged.

Clayton patiently waited for his host to officially begin the meal, putting the napkin in his lap, picking up his fork to begin eating, none of that happened. Instead, he seemed content just gazing at him. As the moments went by, the atmosphere became increasing awkward. Each slight shift of the body did not go unnoticed. "I'm being tested." Clayton thought. "He's seeing if I'm just some common street rat. Little does he know, being nobility myself, I've been required to use proper dinner etiquette since I was young. He's foolish if he thinks I can't control myself." Clayton politely sat there, pretending not to notice his stare, until the master finally broke the silence. "Aren't you going to eat, Clayton?" he asked. "It's bad manners to start eating before the host starts." "Ah, that's right. That's very well mannered of you. Why don't you just start, then?" "Very well." And with that, the dinner commenced.

"Now, first off, allow me to properly introduce myself. I am Count Johann Haxton Vasquez. This is my esteemed assistant, Delphi." Clayton recognized the Count's name. "You are THE Count Vasquez? Co-Chairman over the city council?" "So you know my name, then?" "It's always good to know what's going on around you. You must forgive me for not recognizing you right away. You have been rather scarce from the public eye, but never the public ear." More like nonexistent. The Vasquez bloodline is notorious for being reclusive. "I tend to let the council run themselves. They have been selected to represent Dorter's local interests, so let them. I trust they know what's best for the city." This small talk began to slightly loosen Clayton up. "You are quite the opposite of the baron then. He's been quite on a crusade against crime recently. I imagine yesterday's events have him in fits." The Baron has always been tough on crime, but he has recently been cracking down in recent years. He believes that the criminal element will eventually introduce the Black Platypus into the city, but it's ironically the crime scene itself that prevented the Black Platypus from getting a hold in this city. "I'm glad you brought that up, because that is precisely why I brought you here."

"To be quite frank, you have brought much discord into my city, young man. When you brought that boy Taichii into the city, you brought disaster. The Black Platypus is set to infiltrate our good city, the church is set to quarantine the entire city for vampirism, massive damage, the entire city is in a panic. These are dark days for Dorter. That being said and depending on what you tell me tonight, I may let you go. I am not doing this on the behalf of the city, so what you tell me does not leave this room. I do not care about your connections, former connections, with the mob or your current wanted status. I just need answers."

mucus

It was raining again in the morning. The cold shower seeped into Vicky's shack from every surface.
The smell in the air stunk of fish and manure.  The humidity only exacerbated the stench.
Vicky awoke grogily, rubbing her eyes and smacking her lips.
"Today's the day Vic!" She thought to herself as she rose from the pile on the floor.
She reached over to empty space "How sweet, he's still sleeping," she smiled.  Her thoughts were of her son, whom died some time earlier.
"Mommy will work hard today, you'll see!" she cooed.
Stumbling across the broken floor to a "closet" of sorts (it was more of a wooden box) Vicky poked around for something to wear.
"Well, it's raining of course so I should probably take this . . ." she said grabbing a leather robe.
"Can't forget about you!" she grabbed a small vile of liquid.  A very faint sickly-sweet smell hung to the tiny bottle.
"Or you!" she grabbed another vile, this on filled with an iridescent white powder.
She continued to dress and don her tools of the trade.
First was a layer of fine linen, this would help as she would sweat, the fabrics woulf capture the moisture and move it away from her body.
Above that she wore finely looped chain mail, it may have been heavy but it gave her great protection.
Then came the leather robe, this would keep her dry and concealed her mail.
She then put on a satchel into which she had placed her tools, a sturdy (although somewhat rusty) dagger.  Several potions.  Her two viles.  The rest of the bag was left empty so she could carry her haul.
She put on two more bags, one now hung from her back, and on either side one hung from her shoulder across her chest, laying snugly at her hips.
Above this she wore a black robe, it was very light-weight and for some reason never tore.
On her hand she wore thick leather gloves that had large cuffs.  On her feet she wore long leather boots.
The only place on her body that was truly vulnerable was her face,  and that was if she didn't draw the hoods closed.  She had cut eyeholes into them in case such an event was ever to occur.
She smiled, looking back into her dank crapshack.
"Son, mommy's going to work now!  Be good okay?"
She heard a response and nodded.
"That would be fine, but make sure to be home before sunset."
She listened again.
"Yep! and take this"
She set some money on the table, it wasn't much but it would have been enough to feed a boy for a day.

She sauntered out of the shack, the morning sun glistening on all the surfaces of the slum.
The stench still hung closely to everything.

"Now I have to find that boy, I wonder where he could have gotten to . . ."

Ryqoshay

   After what seems like forever, Mama is finally is done playing with the kitties. It has been a while since Anita has had to wait so long, especially in a game of hide and seek. Her life may not be on the line right now, but she is dead serious in her resolve to avoid being found. It may only a game, but she still takes her hiding seriously, even if Mama doesn't take his seeking as such.

   Finally, he renews his search. He calls for her again... he doesn't honestly expect a response, does he? After a while, he approaches the stand of trees within which she is concealed.

   As he wanders under the tree next to hers, she wills her heart to slow and her breath to practically abate. Every ounce of her being focuses on remaining undetected.
Hurry down the chimney tonight.

Taichii

May 24, 2012, 02:50:09 pm #268 Last Edit: June 16, 2012, 01:13:04 pm by Taichii
Everything became quiet....
Taichii..still with his eyes closed tried to follow the odd sound of breathing....
He moved closer and closer beneath the huge trees... Suddenly... the breathing stopped and slowed down... He freezes on his tracks...
He felt his chest get pressured.... cold sweat streams down the back of his spine.. His fangs gets sharper... Its that feeling again.... His inner instincts made him hear a heartbeat.... He moves forward... every step he takes makes the both his and the unknown heartbeat thump harder....
His throat gets dry... He starts smelling a sweet aroma.. a forbidden aroma for him... Blood... The tempting smell drew him nearer and nearer towards an unknown being.... He opens his mouth gasping for air as his heart beats fast that he sometimes palpitate... "Blood...." He murmurred...
His chest pendant glows red... He is now four steps away from what his instinct tells identifies as his victim.... He steps his right foot forward... He reached out his hand towards the being from above.... His heart beating fast and hard.... He steps his left foot... He readies his fangs that shined below the moonlight... He steps his right foot again.. His eyes still closed which caused Taichii's right foot get tripped by a wild tree root...The foolish incident sent him tumbling forward... he shoots inside and went through the tree hole on the other side... He lands beside the tree...
Taichii snaps out from his vampiric instincts... He immediately thought of what he was trying to do..."oh no... i did it again... i wont let you out! Im still part human...Now then.. anita? where is she? She has to be hear somewhere... i have to find her fast.."As he slowly opened his eyes, he heard a sound of arrows hitting the spot where he should be seconds ago....
Please do share your ideas and suggestion for my project:
FINAL FANTASY TACTICS : LEGEND OF MANA

Join our RP :)
"Desperation"

"PAIN. THAT'S WHAT KEEPS YOU HUMAN"

Dokurider

Clayton felt that this man most likely could read his mind or already knew quite a bit and was looking to fill in the gaps. Either way, lying wasn't productive. "First off, you captured that boy, Taichii, correct? How did you manage that? Judging from the damage he wrought in his battle in the city, you could not have overpowered him." Clayton took a deep breath, measuring his words carefully. "That boy Taichii's power rivals the greatest warriors and mages. But he does not have their experience or remorselessness. I caught him not by power, but by cunning. Initially, I thought a cloud of chlorine gas would get him, but he did not yield. Finally, I managed to down him by disguising myself as a woman and sticking him with a tranquilizer when his guard was down. Unfortunately, his partner, that little girl, made getting away with him a nightmare. In fact, it took an act of god to get away."

"Ah yes, that little girl. I knew there was something odd about her just from reading the initial reports. She comes into the city following you, but then she leaves with Taichii? Tell me, what are they both capable of? What kind of power are we dealing with here?" Clayton then once again relates what he saw them do in the forest. About summoning giant wolves and phoenixes and the dark knives and clones. Everything he knows about them, he tells. Meanwhile, Delphi continues to eat and ignoring the situation. This would be her second helping.

"I see." he plainly says with a troubled look on his face. "Do you think you could get that close to him again and eliminate him?" Clayton paused in brief thought, then answered: "Even if I could, that girl can sense me somehow, I wouldn't. Right now, he has everyone's attention, including the Black Platypus. While they chase Taichii, I can start making moves against them. Besides, I'm certain there are other men out there that could get the job better then I ever could. He can be tricked."

"So you're refusing then?" The Count gave him an unreadable poker face. Clayton was taken aback, but recovered quickly. "I can do much for you, but trying to kill Taichii now would be suicide, even if you sent men with me. Besides, he has enough capable enemies already that can deal with him. His death is only a matter of when. There's no way he can resist the combined might of the Black Platypus, the Church, and the Limberry Army." That last part visibly registered on the Count's face "The Limberry Army? What could they want him dead for?" Glad to be moving away from murdering a demi god, Clayon coolly answered. "They want to capture him. They were the ones that offered the original bounty. He must have done some seriously slighting to warrant a public manhunt and execution." The possibilities of what that boy has done entertained Clayton briefly. Got to know a royal Chocobo a little too well, perhaps?

"Execution? I wouldn't be so sure of that, my boy." Clayton was puzzled. "Why not? I'm pretty sure his initial charges are trumped up, but why else would they be hunting him?" "They're casting the largest net possible to catch him." The Count explained. "They are going above and beyond to catch him. He cannot be a mere criminal. There seems to be quite a bit of money and manpower invested in capturing him. And recall they are chasing a vampire. The entire situation is rather, suspicious." Delphi is on her third helping.

Dynablade

Quote from: Dokurider on May 16, 2012, 06:09:17 pm
Seeing the monk lock down Shields with that ladder, Brass and Junior realized this was the best chance they were going to get. Brass in particular was sure he could counter this monk's kung fu shenanigans. This monk will not get anymore chances to brag. And together, both Junior and Brass rushed the monk down, confident he could not defend against the both of them. Meanwhile, unable to get inside the action, all Machete and Longknife could do was watch the situation unfold. Blackjack was still on the ground, and the scrawny mage continued to hang in the back, face concentrated with worry seeing Quint eying him intently.


For a spell, time would appear to slow to a crawl. Dust particles hung in the air, breaths seemed to take hours to finish. Though Quint was still nervous, his beating heart pumping hard, he would find his current spot a bit easier than the last, with his latest assailants lacking blades. But by now Quint was getting pretty tired, the cuts on his arm and bruises on his chest throbbing. His lips would tighten and he looked up at Brass, intent on making an example of him.

Brass would close in and attempt a swing with his fist, but met only air once Quint backed away nearly to the absolute corner of the room, his back foot nudging the ladder. Here Quint would focus his frustration and fear to his fists, begging to swiftly pound away at Brass, first to his chest, his fist again finding a soft home. However, that wouldn't be the end, Quint now yelling with blow after blow finding their marks.  Brass tried his best to cover up, but the strikes were relentless and powerful. Before long, moments ahead of when his buddy Junior would get in range, Brass would pause in his stance, having taken the latest strike directly to his solar plexus, seemingly stuck in time. Apparently he had been knocked out standing, his legs and arms locked into position. However, unlike the others Quint had put down, one couldn't hear a breath from Brass, but that'd be difficult in that room anyway, with the audible moans of agony still ringing out.

Now, Quint's smile was gone. That cocky demeanor too had vanished, leaving the thieves faced against a man not unlike the person Quint had fought before, raged and itching for blood. Quint would take a few steps forward, leaving Brass to look at the wall, staring down Junior with a fury he likely had never seen before. However, even now, Quint wouldn't make the first move. He was livid, sure, but his mind's eye kept him wary of that mage in the back. One charged attack and all this turns around in a hurry.

Dokurider

Three were down. Only four remained. Machete gave a meaningful look to Longknife and Junior, and together, they slowly moved in on Quint, blades out and ready, intent on simultaneous three prong strike. The mage in the background remained ineffectual with fear, almost quivering.

Dynablade

To his right, Machete. At the twelve, Longknife, and rounding out the bastard brigade on the left was Junior. All three were angry, but it didn't take much of a look at them to see that they, for the first time, were losing their nerve. Quint's rapid dispatching of the previous allies put that little twinge of doubt in their heads, and even here there was question of if victory was still within grasp. The last three men, still armed, now approaching slowly were a big concern, but gave Quint the one advantage he could count on: If many of them converged at once, they would be forced to take slow calculated strikes, wanting to minimize friendly fire with their weapons.

Though, all that planning wouldn't do much now, since he was in the early stages of a pain binge, too focused on ending the fight in double time to contemplate strategy. He could feel the heat in the room, the dry, musty air pervading his throat below from his flaring nostrils. His hands were burning, the cloth on his arm soaking up sweat and blood. It felt as if he was always with his fists on one of their faces, like he could deck them from their distance, still a good ten feet away. He had seen a technique many years ago, when he was just beginning his training where you exerted a force onto a distant opponent, but he was never able to replicate it, previously shrugging it off as a neat trick that the green recruits would marvel at.

But hell, a lot of things wouldn't be around if no one ever tested a new idea on the field..

Letting himself succumb to a state that would be best described as a mixture of desperation of the moment, fury at the roll of the dice that got him here, and a mighty powerful urge to relieve himself, Quint would rear his right arm back, winding up a blow with such a tightly clenched fist it felt like the skin itself was near tearing. All of his attention was focused on Junior, the angle of his nose, the jaggedness of his jaw, the shape of his nose, imagining what all would feel like with his hand hitting it at full force until he could stand the thought of it, thrusting his arm forward!

Quint would close his eyes during the motion, half to muster all the strength he could, half because if it didn't work, he'd be really embarrassed for the few moments he'd still be alive.

Dokurider

A ball of light exploded on Junior's face. The power behind it was lacking, nothing like the wrecking balls that monk called fists, but it was enough to knock Junior to the ground. He would only be on the ground briefly, but that moment could be all that's needed to turn everything around.

Dynablade

With baited breath, Quint would hear a distinct thump on.. something, and as he followed through with a step forward and a look towards his two..enemies?! Junior cried out. He wasn't down yet, but the reddening of his face was a beet colored sign of the blow. That room would fall silent among those unaffected by the attack, Machete, Longknife and the mage set in stone. Before he could even think about how much that technique drained from him, Quint's panic set in again, demanding to use that surprise shock which hit his enemies be checkmate in five.

Two quick sprinting steps lead into a dozen small footing taps of the feet to a bound and Quint was upon Machete, but not with his fists. Leader should get something special, in this instance a full body flying knee to his chin! Way he was thinking, you take the big bad down, everyone should fall with him. At the very least it closed the distance inside the machete's range, and here this was a motion he was used to, having met many Coeurls in mid pounce.

Dokurider

Machete had no glass jaw, but the sheer force behind the monk's flying knee sent him sprawling to the other side of the room. Only Longknife still stood, with Junior getting on his feet. He moved to stab at Quint's exposed side, but there was an initial hesitation on his part and his attack could have been a little more accurate.

Dynablade

"okayokay he's down two more gogogo" Quint's mind raced. He would land on his feet, spinning to face Longknife who, once their eyes met, mustered up enough gumption to lunge forward. By now Quint was exhausted but still arrogant, thinking he could appease both by nimbly dodging past the blade then strike the second to last man in riposte. This would prove to be a mistake as the knife tore his shirt then cut into his side just below the ribs. His grunt of pain was from behind clenched teeth and widened eyes when he pulled the man in by his stabbing arm, decking him square in his face with with a fervor that probably wouldn't have been there had the attack missed.

Dokurider

The monk's blow to Longknife was an instant knockout. It hit him with enough force to slide his body slightly when it hit the ground. Now only Junior remained standing. Even the mage in the back finally let his nerve get the best of him and fled to the nearest corner, cowering, sure of defeat. When it came to fighting, Junior was green. In fact, this was his first real fight. Sure, he has stabbed his share of people in ambushes, but an honest-to-Ajora struggle of life and death was new to him. He held his suddenly inadequate knife nearly arm's length from himself, not entirely sure what his next move should be.

Dynablade

Now visibly panting, Quint took the first few moments checking his back, finding that those who were down were staying down. Those who were standing in the mage and Junior didn't seem aggressive, but he was trying to stay on his guard, even if by now he was having a hard time keeping his arms up. Taking his time to catch his breath, Quint would try diplomacy again. Usually people are inclined to talk if they don't have the upper hand.

"..Still don't want to hurt you.." Quint looked towards both the mage and Junior, but then remembered that chest in the other room.

"...But I need you to do one thing for me. That box downstairs? I want what's in it, then you can go."

Here he'd put on his best chocobo dispute posture, standing tall and puffing his chest out in an attempt to intimidate; "Not unless you wanna end up like your friends there.." A look across the room would still find the Brass statue motionless in the corner.

Dokurider

"Do it and it'll be the last goddamn thing you do on Earth." said a voice from across the room. Machete rose up from the other side of the room. The blow had visibly rocked him, his jaw and neck in pain, but he was made of tougher stuff than your average street thief. "Make an opening for me, Junior." With that, they both rushed Quint, from the front and behind.