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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jun 16, 2017 18:34:54 GMT -5
Rhyne
Silence seemed to grip the night for only the briefest of moments, as if the world had ceased to breathe.
The quiet was shattered, however, at the sudden shout of warning as a single voice split the night. Rhyne’s wolfish golden eyes shifted in the direction of the shout, although he did not move from his crouched position in the shadows of the rooftop that he found himself perched on. The quiet din of the inn below his feet was background noise to Rhyne, and so he filtered it out. The young man’s breathing was soft and nearly inaudible – it would’ve been to anyone passing by, and it was entirely possible that someone would mistake Rhyne for a statue or an animal. That wasn’t entirely unusual, considering that he was more beast than man in many ways. A shadow moved across the rooftops a small distance from him, and Rhyne tapped his fingers on his thigh, wordlessly reaching for the magic that lived and pulsed in his blood, as much a part of his life-force as the breath that filled his lungs with each quiet inhalation. The magic responded almost instantly, surging to the forefront. Although he did not need any physical movement to focus his magic, he’d developed the habit of flexing his fingers or clenching his fist when utilizing the skill.
Sahte was the ability to manipulate another’s senses or enhance one’s own. The shadow was blurred, and as Rhyne drummed his fingers on his thumb, he utilized the magic to enhance his own senses. His sight sharpened, the colors of the night becoming more vibrant, shadows far sharper, light much brighter. He studied the shadow for a moment, tensing instinctively, before he realized it was Kade, the leader of their group. Rhyne marginally relaxed, but when the man’s mental voice cut through his thoughts he bared his teeth in a snarl. Everyone get out now! Came the shout. Rhyne winced at the volume of the mental command. Guards on the first floor, at least six. The wolfish man’s response to Kade was a wordless, almost inaudible mental growl of affirmation. Rhyne shifted his gaze to the side slightly when something else caught his peripheral vision; a flash of light that was nearly blinding to his heightened vision, and he could hear the soft whoosh of flames. With a soft growl, Rhyne moved.
He was a blur against the night sky, moving across the rooftop of the inn below him with animalistic grace. As usual, Rhyne had been perched as a lookout for the assassination, considering his skills were often only called upon when in dire need. There was a reason he was called the secret weapon. He bunched his muscles and leapt across the space between buildings, skidding slightly when his right foot caught on a loose tile. His hand shot out, steadying himself for a half-second before he was on the move again. There was an orange blur across the sky, and Rhyne turned his head slightly to study the blaze that was quickly growing. He leapt across one more roof, placing himself on the building opposite where the assassination had occurred, and studied the guards mustering at the entrance. A few had run off in Kade’s direction, and he could only guess what had started the fire – maybe Zehmira. He wouldn’t have been surprised.
There were six guards that he could see, though he could hear a few more milling about in the building. Again, Rhyne summoned his magic. His right hand curled into a fist, nails digging into the soft flesh of his palm. Just like that, the guards froze; their heads swiveled slightly as they found themselves without their senses. Smell, sight, sound, taste; all were gone, stolen by Rhyne’s magic. The effect was only temporary, and would only last as long as Rhyne was nearby, but it was long enough to allow his fellow assassins to gain a few extra meters between themselves and their pursuers. Rhyne waited another heartbeat before he uncurled his fist. The guards shouted in shock, cursing their unseen attacker.
“It’s a trick!” one of them shouted. They all seemed to collapse into themselves, forming a defensive unit. It was a valiant effort and would protect at least a few of them if he decided to attack, but Rhyne had no intentions of engaging in combat. His job was done for now, and like a ghost he faded back into the shadows, crouching to make his form smaller. His wolfish golden eyes watched the guards for another moment.
“Find him!” another screamed.
Rhyne snorted; no one would be catching him. In a blur, he moved again, sliding into a smooth run across the rooftop. There was a shout of alarm, and Rhyne snarled to himself. He hadn’t been as careful as he’d thought, it seemed. The guards had spotted him, and the thundering sound of footsteps pursuing gave testament to that. Rhyne carefully placed each foot to make his journey as smooth as possible, but when Kade’s mental voice split through the quiet of his thoughts again, his left foot slipped out from beneath him as he jerked in shock. Ataima was the skill that Rhyne was the worst at, and he often forgot that it was a skill Kade used often. His hands scraped against the roof tiling as he slid, desperately searching for a hand-hold. He managed to grab the lip of the roof to stop his descent, but the sudden stop of acceleration jerked his shoulder muscles painfully. He grunted and yanked himself back onto the roof, gaining his footing again before pain speared through his left shoulder. He yelped, jerking forward. He looked over his shoulder, blinking in surprise at the shaft of the bolt sticking out of his skin. He’d been shot?
Rage flashed in his golden eyes and he curled his lip over his teeth in a snarl. There was an instant of hesitation; the rage pulsing in his veins urged him to drop to the ground and unleash his fury upon those who dared to injure him, but Kade’s mental voice told him to get back to the pub. He snarled again, yanking out the crossbow bolt with his right hand. He snapped the wood in half and threw it in the direction of the guard, before he took off again, sliding back into the shadows.
A few moments of running later had the home-base looming into view. Rhyne grunted to himself, slowing to a stop when he reached the Donkey’s Brew’s roof. He paused for a moment to catch his breath, listening to the multitude of voices below him. It seemed he was one of the last to return, if not that last. He snorted to himself, angling his stance to slide easily down the rooftop. He ignored the pain in his shoulder as he grabbed the windowsill as he dropped past and used the momentum of gravity to swing himself inside. He landed on his feet, dropping into a slight crouch, like a feline. His golden eyes studied the faces of his fellow assassins, but he did not speak. He inclined his head in greeting, but his attention was drawn by the soft scraping of claws on wood. The canine that served as Rhyne’s primary companion slunk into the room, ears swiveled forward. He was massive, about the size of a wolf; his coat was a coarse, ashen gray, although a darker stripe ran along his spine. The wolf-dog trotted up to Rhyne almost instantly and stopped before the man. Rhyne buried his face in the wolf dog’s fur for a moment, before he sat back on his heels and offered the canine a few scratches behind the ear.
Rhyne’s upbringing had been… stunted, to say the least. He’d been taken in by Arturo at a young age, when he’d shown great potential for the use of magic. He didn’t remember his parents; his first memory had been of the training room where he’d been sealed off from the rest of the trainees. The only human contact that he’d had for the first two decades of his life had been Arturo, and as a result he was severely socially stunted. His behaviors and mannerisms were animalistic and primal; he tended to growl and snarl in response to most questions, although he had the capability to speak – oddly enough, he had a spectacular memory, almost photographic, and he was able to learn languages rapidly. He did not speak often, though; it wasn’t an exaggeration when he was described as more animal than man. He was fiercely possessive and territorial, extremely dominant in his personality, and it wasn’t unusual for Rhyne to ignore Kade’s orders if he found them irritating.
Still, Rhyne’s skill with sahte and tamir were nearly unmatched, and it was perhaps the only reason he was still around. He certainly didn’t feel much connection to the people around him. The wolf-dog before him huffed softly, drawing Rhyne’s attention again. He was able to communicate to some animals, but his skill in dyerre wasn’t well practiced and as a result his use of the magic pretty much ended beyond communicating with Ghost, the ashen canine before him.
He cocked his head at Kade, raising an eyebrow in an unspoken question that seemed to say, is everyone back safe? Zehmira was injured as well, it seemed, but Rhyne would wait until she was tended to, to worry about the puncture wound in his shoulder. The cross-bow injury pulsed and ached something fierce, and he had little doubt that blood had begun to soak the dark material of the shirt he was wearing. Like most of the assassins, he wore darker colors; blacks, greys, dark browns, to blend into the night. He’d donned a pair of black leather pants and a dark grey tunic for the night, but the tunic was useless now. Oh well.
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jun 16, 2017 18:52:16 GMT -5
(( probably lol xD ))
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Post by Rivermagic on Jun 16, 2017 19:06:10 GMT -5
(Ah, I'm back for a while, but I'd doubt I'll be able to give a sufficient response since I'm wiped from day 1. It's an anime convention, so I've decided to cosplay as Levi Ackerman for friday...which was super fun to do anyway. I figure that Mara would let Rhyne help a little to give him practice, lol)
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jun 16, 2017 19:07:29 GMT -5
( xD he's certainly able but he's a grumpy kid lol )
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Post by נσкσмαтσ on Jun 16, 2017 19:35:30 GMT -5
{ Levi! Attack on Titan is one of my faves Have fun at the convention ~ }
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Post by ☾ Cʀᴇsᴄᴇɴᴛ ☽ on Jun 16, 2017 19:46:48 GMT -5
(Hello! This looks very interesting. If I have time I may join. As of now I'm reading over the front page and trying to decide if I'm too busy or not.)
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Post by ᴘᴀʟᴀᴅɪɴ ✧ on Jun 16, 2017 19:52:22 GMT -5
{ Y'all. I have survived exams + finals and now I have come into the light?? What's good }
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jun 16, 2017 20:05:25 GMT -5
( omg grats )
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Post by ✦ ┇ W ι ɳ on Jun 16, 2017 22:04:51 GMT -5
i think I've finished Arya! Now to catch up on all these posts lol
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jun 16, 2017 22:08:14 GMT -5
( haha nice! )
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jun 17, 2017 0:09:35 GMT -5
( ^^ $
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Post by ✦ ┇ W ι ɳ on Jun 17, 2017 0:18:53 GMT -5
Yay thanks! Everyone's characters are so cool I think I'm nearly caught up~
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Post by ✦ ┇ W ι ɳ on Jun 17, 2017 0:34:06 GMT -5
(I wish I had a pretty background like everyone's for my posts but alas I have no idea how to do that and I'm on my iPad o.o I'll start my reply soon~)
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jun 17, 2017 0:41:13 GMT -5
You can quote someone else's post and stick a diff picture in the image section idk lol that's what I did
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Post by ✦ ┇ W ι ɳ on Jun 17, 2017 0:52:04 GMT -5
(ooh v good idea I think I'll try that! Thanks friend!)
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Post by ѕρσттεdѕнιммεя on Jun 17, 2017 4:25:56 GMT -5
[ i'd reply but i wanna wait for everyone to reply first to make sure jack's reactions are correct to the according events and people involved ]
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Post by Deleted on Jun 17, 2017 9:58:37 GMT -5
/wheeze/ i'm still alive!! in hindsight, taking summer classes on top of my usual work probably wasn't the best idea ;-; but i am BOUND AND DETERMINED to finish up my form tonight/tomorrow when i'm free! sorry for being slow folks <//3 but i love reading the rp responses up atm hehe everyone is so good!
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Post by ✦ ┇ W ι ɳ on Jun 17, 2017 10:02:57 GMT -5
Arya Paavai
Arya was a ghost. Her footsteps were so light on the floor they could not be heard unless by a trainee or sahte enhanced ear and she moved with a haunting grace undetected through the building. She pulled her dark hood closer around her head and tucked her braided hair in, to avoid anyone from identifying her as male or female if she was to be seen. They could probably guess based off her body shape and small frame, but no need to give them anymore clues than what was already unavoidable.
Her target would be an easy kill. Arya preferred to be up high, she would pull herself up a back alley or drain pipe and crawl along the roof tops, her body pressed so close to the roof as she ran that spotting her in the dark was nearly impossible without a trained eye. This was why she chose to enter through the second story window rather than the roof itself, she felt it had more cover and was quicker for her to reach the target she was after. She slid one of her many knives from her forearm; this one has a curved blade she slid under the window and used to slide the lock out of place. She opened it slowly and slipped inside, any movement she made was disoriented by the curtain moving slightly in the draft.
She kept the same curved knife on hand, it's bone handle seemed to glow in the dimly lit room. It was named after one of the many saints of her old religion, Saint Starkov. Her amber eyes darted around the room in one rapid sweep she took in the information she needed and focused her attention on the armchair in the corner. It was a large bedroom, big enough for a few seats off to the side and a coffee table if the owner wished to have guests over for tea. The bed was set and door closed, which likely meant any servants who would come through for the night had already fulfilled their duty until the next morning.
That was good, Arya didn't kill servants nor slaves. She had been both for what felt like too much of her life and she refused to subject either groups of people to further suffering. It was a feeling of kinship and if was not often anyone would waste their gold to put a hit on a poor villager or servant and if they did, that was usually for personal reasons and exacting revenge; a job an assassin was not usually required or chosen for.
Everyone get out now! Guards on the first floor, at least six. Kade's voice echoed in her mind. It was perhaps the only foreign voice she would allow there, at times it was nearly welcoming. Arya held great respect for Kade, he was someone she found to be honorable, or as honorable as an assassin could be, and she has no trouble following his leadership. If the guard were no the first floor she assumed she had less than a minute to kill her target and escape back through the way she came in before they were upon her. The building was not incredibly large and even in that clunky armor she assumed they would make it up the stairs in a matter of moments.
Knife in hand, she crept forward towards the man in the arm chair idly sipping his tea with no idea his life was about to end. Arya made quick work of him, her silent footsteps brought her directly behind the man where she slid Saint Starkov across the man's throat in one swift motion. His head lulled immediately and she wiped the blood off her knife and offered a silent prayer. Deliver him now from every evil and bid him enter eternal rest.
The room was absolutely still in a way that was almost peaceful. She returned her knife the the sheath on her arm and silently strode towards the window. As she crawled through she heard the sound of metal hitting metal as the guards attempted to climb up the stairs in groups that were much too large for the hallway. She wished she could stick around to watch them, it was likely an amusing site, but she had to be getting back to the Brew.
Arya closed the window in one swift movement and it was like she had never been there. A spirit in the night taking her victims and dispersing, she could not be caught anymore than the air around her, it was liberating for a girl who had spent so much time tied down by others. She had often pictured herself flying away, she had prayed for her Saints to give her wings, or a new form of magic she could use to free herself. It had been a silly girl's dream; one that had earned her the title of "little bird." It wasn't a loving term used by a mother to describe her darling daughter, rather a term sneered at her each time she longed for escape, whenever she held her chin up high it reminded her who she was and where she was.
The words were a pit in her stomach, they carved away at something fundamental that held her together. She was not little bird she was a ghost, a spirit as dangerous as any demon. Such thoughts brought her comfort as she slid from the building. She could hear the guards behind her shouting and could almost feel them squinting through the inky darkness for any resemblance of a human form the could shoot at.
Moments later she was on the roof of the Donkey's Brew, the familiar tiles barely gave beneath her light feet and she avoided the ones she knew to be loose or loud. Even in the comfort of what she called a home and those she called friends, she preferred to be quiet rather than always make her presence known immediately.
She always left her window unlocked when she was out on missions, it was common knowledge she preferred to travel by rooftop than by street. After each mission she would emerge from the upstairs, usually her own room, but sometimes other's if she was feeling mischievous and then join the rest of the group in their usual meeting spot with the arm chair.
Arya stepped silently into the the room and offered her greeting to the others, nothing but a soft, "Hello." As she pulled her hood off and pulled the braid free to hang over her collarbone.
A slight frown danced across her lips momentarily when she noticed Zehmira's injured side and Mara attending it. Arya admired Zehmira despite being a year her senior. Her confidence and easy charm was something she wished she herself could have, but the saints didn't bless one person with every talent and she supposed flirting and charming others was one she would just have to live without. Any flirtations towards her quickly turned her cheeks a flushed pink anyway, she didn't think she could dish them out so easily. She wanted to ask if she was alright, but Mara was attending her which meant she would likely be just fine.
Jack and V seemed to be uninjured which was good, as did Kade and is slightly relaxed expression told her the others were probably fine as well. Ilai appeared to be doing well too which pleased her since she was fond of the second in command. She also took into account that Jack had sweets, something she certainly was happy about.
They would have to wait though, "Save me one." She told Jack pointed as she passed by him. Rhyne was in the corner petting his larger dog (Or was it a wolf? She wasn't sure either way, but she liked the beast especially it's name). Her eyes caught on the shine of his shirt near his shoulder and she frowned a little when she recognized it as blood. Rhyne was fairly distant and quiet like herself, but she didn't feel uncomfortable approaching him.
"I can treat that for you. It'll only take a moment." She offered as she approached, her eyes shifted to Ghost a moment with a slight smile than back to Rhyne. She didn't know whether he would accept, he wasn't particularly fond of speaking to others, but she doubted the wound on his shoulder felt too good.
[Sorry for any typos or odd wording I don't usually reread and my iPad is rather unforgiving in that aspect]
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jun 17, 2017 10:17:11 GMT -5
( no worries. Glow is the queen of typos haha )
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Post by ✦ ┇ W ι ɳ on Jun 17, 2017 10:38:41 GMT -5
(lol I'm glad it's not just me than!!)
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jun 17, 2017 10:42:52 GMT -5
( Rhyne's a fierce lil thing c: )
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Post by вlue вlood on Jun 17, 2017 10:51:28 GMT -5
[ I'll probably scribble up a reply tonight if i have the time / energy c: ]
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