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Post by Shadepelt15 on May 14, 2020 2:33:57 GMT -5
Archie | Living Room | mintedstar/fur Almost timed with the strangers thoughts of godly entities, one appeared to take all the blame and beatings. What an absolute pompous bastard he was, dressed as regally as a champion that just walked out of Hot Topic. And the ever present smile on his very odd face was wider than ever as he trotted forward, elbows bent and swinging gleefully. Of course, he stopped once he realized where he was, but his attitude seldom changed. Looking about, he saw there was someone new in the roomm. New to him, anyway, and he was delighted. It was particularly convenient, although unbeknownst to him, that he had chosen to wear "godly" attire. Wonderful robes and fine jewelry were so plentiful on his body it would have looked cluttered if it weren't for the fact that everything was very meticulously placed to look as elegant as possible. "Hello there, strange man! You look quite lost, are you new?" he inquired, marching his way over to the shorter fellow and extending a hand to him, all smiles. It was pretty ironic that Archie was described as a pompous bastard, since that was exactly what the man thought as soon as Archie blinked in. He wasn't too shocked that the man had just appeared. He'd sort of figured this wasn't going to be a normal day. "Get lost," he said, tone as even and flat as a board as he looked at the hand. Only what he said might have been a bit more rude. Not downright rude, but maybe something bordering discontent at the current state of affairs. All friendly, mind you. Wouldn't want anyone to think the man wasn't friendly. He didn't trust gods who shook hands. Not that he was completely sure this was a god and it wasn't like he'd met many gods. Or any, really. But it was the context. Gods didn't shake hands. It was beneath them. Logically then, this was either a very untrustworthy god or not a god at all. Come to think of it, he didn't trust gods at all and not many people either. This man reminded him of a peacock as well. But it was the attitude. It was the sort of one which didn't get things done and never gave satisfactory answers. So he was going to regret the next question. "I'm only lost if someone's dragged me off my street corner. Who are you?" It might have been a good idea to ask where he was, but that would come later. The man wasn't intent on panicking and certainly not in front of Archie. He had a horn, like a ram's or goat's. That at least meant he wasn't human. Also not a wizard. Didn't fit the MO, unless you counted the robes. His eyebrows bounced up at the abrupt rejection, though the grin didn't fade, not one bit. Oh, how interesting. Generally speaking, he didn't along very well with people that weren't as preppy and likable as himself. However, that never meant he couldn't have fun with people that were beyond that spectrum. This seemed to be one of those cases, and by all the stars, he was thrilled. "Oh believe me, sir, you would truly hate it if I did," he said evenly, withdrawing his hand and folding both of them behind his back casually, fiddling with the ties and chains on the back of his ostentatious garment. "My proper name is Anarchy, I tend to invite people to call me Archie. Dare I care what your name might be, Mr. Grumpybumpidybee? Ah, well... This isn't much of a street corner, I'm afraid. Perhaps metaphorically speaking, it could be the street corner as far as dimensions go. I gather you're not aware of where you are, given how, ah... wary, you seem to be," he drawled, his usual chippy tone dulled significantly, to the point that his grin would be, by whatever normal standards, very out of place. Surely, surely, not threatening, though. Surely. Of course, he was not going to offer to tell this man where he was. If he wanted to know he could very well ask. In the meantime, he took to examining him thoroughly; from the soggy top of his head to the soggier tips of his boots. "You're very much soaked, I don't know if you're aware," he said. "I can't imagine why you're so very agitated about it, given how mild it is in here. And, rather fortunately, this is the safest room to be in. Usually." Depending on your present company, any way. He'd caught wind of a few times the living room's inhabitants had made it... less than inhabitable. |
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Post by Shadepelt15 on May 14, 2020 3:12:21 GMT -5
~∂єѕтιиу Acid Parkour Watching Vincent make his way casually over while he dangled pitifully was horridly disheartening, even more so when he finally landed and simply stared at his strained hands. Ravohyr hoped that perhaps he was just thinking through the situation, weighing the possibilities or the safest way to get him back up without them both falling in. Given the weight difference, it would be a very viable concern; without some kind of leverage, the blond would surely just topple in as well. His ears almost seemed to perk up when he began speaking and he realized that, looking closer at his face now, he seemed more amused by the situation than anything. Which, frankly, he found rather offensive! "Er- yes..." he answered quietly, then jolted as he began to walk off. "Wait, sera! Please!" he called after him, straining to lift himself enough to follow the man with his eyes. It was no use; his arms still too strained from his initial blunder, he only made it about half way up before collapsing back to his hanging position. Okay, okay. At this point, he deemed it safe to assume he would get no help. There was still the possibility he might just be looking for that leverage he'd pondered earlier, buut... There was no way in Oblivion he'd bet on it. Sighing, he tried to shift his weight to one arm and let his other relax, letting go ever so cautiously of the ledge to shuffle through his bag. His potions were used up, it seemed... And one needs two hands to cast spells in most cases. Returning his hand to the ledge, he thought for a moment, looking about. The rope was still there, but... Upon reaching for it, straining for as much distance as he could muster, it was too far to be of help. Well, drat. Reaching back, he lifted his axe out of his holster and tossed it up onto the platform, almost slipping off entirely just from the relief of having so much weight gone. He breathed in deeply through his nose and readjusted his grip on the edge, flexing his fingers and trying to rest his shoulders for a moment. Peering around under the platform, he was further distressed to find there was nothing to brace his feet on. No beams in range, just a tall support block in the middle, too far for him to bother stretching for. That meant arms only. Doable. Closing his eyes, he whimpered and whined tragically, promising himself to sleep through a whole cycle as soon as he was home. Guild responsibilities he damned, if he made it. He opened his eyes again, taking in a few deep breaths. Then, with the strained but still present strength of a man that had pulled a boat from the sea a few miles inland, began to hoist himself back up. Slowly but surely, until he was near enough he could hook his elbow up and anchor his forearm. Then, heaving with his(God blessed, literally) shoulders, the other, then he tipped over to balance his weight and swung his legs up as well. For a moment he just rolled onto his back, feeling his mouth dry and his breath now coming in quick gasps as he righted himself. "Oh nine, bless me... Azura, I'm your eternal servant, I swear it," he mumbled, though wasn't sure she could hear him here. After his rest, he popped back up to his feet, returned his axe to its holster and made to carry on through the last two obstacles, more careful now, but yet still even more eager to just be done with all of this. It helped to rely more on his legs than his arms the last couple of segments, and boy did they throb when he did use them, an annoying protest of his body which he ignored, pushing on. Seeing Vincent at the very end, he frowned to himself. It was good he had gotten there, he supposed... And there could be any number of reasons he didn't come back for him, which he noticed Yet, still, he found it to be oddly, mildly infuriating he had left him there to hang and fall to his death. At last, he landed on the final platform, equally as thrilled to see his belongings waiting for him. This seemed a bit awkward, somehow, so he offered a grin, albeit a halfhearted one, and huffed out, "Ah, I'm glad to see you made it to the end, sera. Its uh... No hard feelings?" he offered, extending a hand to him.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on May 14, 2020 13:13:35 GMT -5
L would keep his word. He would help. Or, at least, he would try to. The severity of the problem had not escaped him. And he had a few guesses as to its cause already, based on what he’d seen and heard, but there would be time for that later. Right now, what mattered was that the man in his arms was still Myrnin. He relaxed ever so slightly as Myrnin nodded, agreeing to tell him, what? Everything, hopefully. Everything about this problem that had been consuming the vampire for who knew how long, that L hadn’t known about. He didn’t like not knowing things, but he supposed he couldn’t exactly blame Myrnin for not telling him, especially after the last arena room and the conversation that had come afterwards. Not that that conversation had gone badly, but...well. It didn’t matter now. “You will be.” He answered, his tone suggesting he was stating a fact, not a question. In reality, it was neither one. He let Myrnin go, then hugged him again, and he understood the difference between the two hugs, the way one was desperate and one wasn’t. He may not have been the best at reading people, but he could tell that much. He just hoped he, and whoever else Myrnin allowed to help him, would be enough. He let Myrnin go again and stepped back, giving him space. Then he looked at the two other blinkers he didn’t know, and raised his eyebrows. The man, at least, looked a bit dangerous. The boy not so much, but appearances could be deceiving. Kelsier looked at Sam, blinking at the unfamiliar term. Vampire? Well, whatever it was, he supposed it was supposed to mean something about Myrnin. Maybe about whatever had happened to him to make him act the way he was acting now. He didn’t interrupt as the man with no shoes hugged the….vampire. Instead, he focused on the kid beside him and smiled a little. “Me too.” He agreed softly. “We’re friends, too.” He didn’t explain how deeply he felt that term. How much it meant for him to say that out loud, when not long ago he would have been shocked to hear himself say it. He didn’t explain any of that to Sam, because in that moment, their history was irrelevant. What mattered was now. L had, indeed, noticed the similarities. He didn’t know the context, but he knew the look in Myrnin’s eyes as he looked at the younger vampire, and he understood what had happened, just now why. He would have to ask, when things weren’t so fragile. He would have to ask, when he wasn’t worried about shattering this moment into a thousand pieces, never to be repaired. Because Myrnin was trying, but so was the House. The House was pushing them all to their limits now. All L had gone through was a painless death. Who was he to talk? No, he had been lucky. It was Myrnin who needed help now, not him. He stood there, listening to Orpheus’ music and letting it soak into him and calm him, sharpening his mind. He needed to be there. For his friend. Kelsier watched silently as Myrnin found the screen with the broken person behind it. He didn’t know them, but he knew what someone pushed too far looked like, and he couldn’t help comparing them to one of the many Skaa on the street he saw, the ones who weren’t even trying anymore. The ones who were waiting to die. He wished there was something he could do. Clearly, this person also meant something to Myrnin, though what that meant he didn’t know. He didn’t approach, staying near Nico’s screen and dividing his attention between it and Myrnin, as he waited for the next blow to fall. And it did. Myrnin looked at Nico’s screen and Kelsier tensed, before he remembered Nico’s grief for the vampire and he stopped, bewilderment flooding his expression again. They were friends. He trusted Nico’s judgement, but...he didn’t trust Myrnin. He didn’t know him, not as anything but a cold killer and the man who had cried on someone’s shoulder and Nico’s friend. He didn’t know how to reconcile those images. Ironic, because he could be described in much the same way. He tensed again as Myrnin spoke to him, and he met the vampire’s eyes, his own hazel ones wary, but not afraid. He had no idea what to expect here. He had no perspective but his own, and that wasn’t a good one. Wait. How did Myrnin know about that? “Did he tell you that?” He asked, a little more sharply than he intended to. Then he reined himself in, swallowing the emotions that memory caused him. Myrnin was Nico’s friend. If he had confided in the vampire, then that was his business, not Kelsier’s. It did make this a little trickier, though. “I did kill him.” He said, and this time there was no edge to his voice. Myrnin had killed him. Myrnin was Nico’s friend. Who was Myrnin? He was aware of Sam stepping away from him. Poor boy. What would he think if he knew what else Kelsier had done? “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re like in your right mind, then.” He continued, addressing the other major problem they had. “But this is the House. I’m willing to accept that it influenced you. Maybe not forgive you, just yet. I value my life. But we’ll see.” He cracked a smile, and offered a small bow of his own. “Well, I believe the decent thing to do is to explain yourself. You don’t often get to explain to the person you killed why you did it. But if you want to make it right, answer me this: why?” They were both dancing around each other, both not knowing who the other was. In many ways, they were similar, and in many ways they were opposites. What Kelsier saw was a man who was both a threat and not. All he had to do was open the box and find out which it was. |
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strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on May 14, 2020 14:38:24 GMT -5
“We’ll never make it.” While Nico generally attempted to avoid pessimism, it weighed down his voice now as he clung to the scepter and stared out into the distance. A distance that was now replaced by the living room and a sense of dread that would probably only grow as he waited to blink back. It would’ve been one thing if he weren’t alone, but he was and there was really nothing to distract him from the inevitability of blinking back and having to deal with… well, everything. Nico forced himself to take a deep breath in, leaning the scepter against the wall and making himself as comfortable as possible on one of the beanbag chairs. “You gonna make me sit here alone?” he asked the House, knowing full well he wasn’t going to get an answer. With any luck, someone else would blink in and he’d have a nice distraction. The last time he had seen Sam was nice – he’d taught him a bit about swordsmanship, and the boy had taken to it surprisingly quickly. Nico hadn’t thought he’d ever be a good teacher, but he’d enjoyed Sam’s presence. He wouldn’t have been angry if he’d blinked in. Or Myrnin. The chance to just… go into a room at random with Myrnin could be a welcome distraction, especially considering they were both capable fighters. “You know,” he told the House wryly, crossing his arms, “I’d even take Hook.” |
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Post by mintedstar/fur on May 14, 2020 15:34:08 GMT -5
(I have everyone else blinked in at the moment, so I guess you get saddled with Kid again, whoops.) broken Without much hubbub, Kid blinked into the House. It hadn't been that long ago since he'd last blinked in, at least in his world. He was holding a map, looking at the details displayed on it. He was walking slowly, holding it in a way that should have made seeing the living room difficult, but instead he stopped almost at once. Still looking at the page, he said, "Hello again, House ..." (No that’s fine, I kinda missed Kid.) Not too long after he had blinked in, so did Ciel. He had appeared on the couch, reading the newspaper. He soon realized where he was, since the House was a lot quieter than his manor at the moment. The Earl sighed with relief and lowered the paper, noticing Kid across the room. Throwing the paper on the coffee table, he made his way over. “Ah Kid, it’s been a while. How have things been?” (Ha ha I fell asleep. @.@ In the middle of the day.) Kid folded the map with a snap of paper and turned on his heels to face Ciel. He smiled broadly, pleased to see his friend. "Ciel! I'm doing well. Nothing really to report." Life had been, for the most part, uneventful. There had been a verity of things which had happened, of course, but there wasn't anything of note. "And you? How have things been for you?" |
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Post by broken on May 15, 2020 1:05:37 GMT -5
(Dont worry, you're fine!)
"Ah, well that certainly is good," Ciel muttered, smiling only for a second. "And as for me, not much either. It's been rather boring actually, so I'm glad I managed to blink in."
He glanced around the room for a moment, noticing a few new individuals. "So it seems the House keeps bringing people here, huh," the Earl scoffed and shook his head, looking back at his friend. "Have you met any of the new blinkers?"
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Post by Numquam on May 15, 2020 1:27:05 GMT -5
Eises' face hardened as she kept her fingers tensed but her palms open and facing the ground. Jungle predators include...big cats, apes, Gili lizards, whatever the hell those furry horned guys are called... She cursed under her breath, knowing that there was no way of possibly knowing what the House had in store for them. It could throw a species that didn't exist in Theia and ruin any potential plan she had. She clenched her teeth in irritation. If it was an animal they should avoid, they could have been using this time to flee or climb already. But she had no way of knowing ahead of time. She didn't have to watch over Vin-sint, did she? Does he have a way to defend himself? Sleazy business men usually had guns, so he had a gun, right? Did guns even work in the House? She imagined he couldn't run well in those shoes. A muscular flash exploded from the trees and Eises scrambled to make distance. Upon landing, it swiped at her tail, barely missing by a hair length. It didn't slow in its pursuit, so Eises stretched her arm in front of her. A blast of ice erupted onto the beast's face, causing it to step back and shake its head. She jogged back again, her front never leaving the beast's view. He looks like...a big cat? It was the colour of dirt rich in moisture, and seemed to be partly made of stone. Her fur stood on its end, and her sharpened wolf teeth were fully bared. She summoned a narrow ice-wall directly behind her. Another beast jumped from the trees, landing neatly in front of Vincent. The corner of Eises' mouth twitched, "He's too scrawny for you! Go away!" The first cat readied its haunches and leaped towards the demitheian once more. Vincent glanced Eises, carefully watching her ears, hoping their rotation could give him a clue as to what she was hearing faster than she could shout it out. His heart was still pounding as he reached into his pocket, shaking his head slightly as he pulled out the only weapon he had on him - a small switchblade. The f*** was a switchblade going to do?He’d felt comforted when he’d first started carrying it, knowing it was the only weapon he could easily pocket that would blink in with him, but now he felt it was pretty useless. Any feeling of safety that the blade provided quickly plummeted when the first creature leaped into vision. He sunk away from his companion quickly, seeing that she seemed to be the beast’s target. He backed away quickly, bouncing on his toes for a moment before turning to find a place to hide. Just as he turned his back to Eises, the second beast slammed down onto the earth in front of him. Startled, he managed to pull himself to the side as the feline creature snapped at his chest. He jerked up his arm, attempting to slice at the beast as it moved past him, but his blade snagged against the strange rock exterior and was immediately ripped from his hand. He staggered backwards in surprise, spinning around as he heard Eises shout at the cat. She had a point, he would be an unsatisfactory meal, and not much of a sport. The cat dipped its head at him, opening its lips in a nasty snarl with a noise that resembled a rumbling hiss. Assuming it was reading itself to come at him again, he looked to his company desperately. “Eises,” he said through his teeth, though he was uncertain what she could do. She was the one with ice powers - he figured she could come up with something. Eises peered over to Vin-sint's moving hand. A...knife? It was terribly small. Maybe if he's lucky and that beast is skinny enough... Did he know how to use it? He knew, right? "Don't you p-people carry a gun or somethin'?" Don't tell me he's the type of rich sleaze who just have body guards?Her eyes narrowed sharply as she leaped into the air, jumping over the beast that decided to spring over to her. She landed on her feet onto its back just as it stopped before it could run into the ice wall. She held her balance with a crouch and with one hand on its fur; she clenched her other fist to her side, causing a piece of the ice-wall to explode at the beast's face. Some chunks of ice flew dangerously close to Vin-sint and landed near him, with one landing on the head of the second beast. She faced the front of the feline, still on its back, and swung both opened-palmed hands backwards in a vertical arch. Sharp chunks of ice immediately grew upwards from the ground and around the monster's legs. Vaulting forward with a flip, she landed in front of feline, encasing her lower left leg with ice. She then whirled around with a swift kick to its jaw, the ice on her leg shattering. Eises tensed her fingers to deal another blow to the creature, but stopped when it started whimpering. Panic was filling its eyes. "O-Oh, um...sorry?" She took several steps back. It was no longer focused on her, but frantically looking around and onto its legs, trying to pull itself out. "Y-Yeah okay, u-uh, h-hold still." Waving her hand to the side, she wondered out loud, "Is the human still alive?" |
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Post by mintedstar/fur on May 15, 2020 5:58:56 GMT -5
“We’ll never make it.” While Nico generally attempted to avoid pessimism, it weighed down his voice now as he clung to the scepter and stared out into the distance. A distance that was now replaced by the living room and a sense of dread that would probably only grow as he waited to blink back. It would’ve been one thing if he weren’t alone, but he was and there was really nothing to distract him from the inevitability of blinking back and having to deal with… well, everything. Nico forced himself to take a deep breath in, leaning the scepter against the wall and making himself as comfortable as possible on one of the beanbag chairs. “You gonna make me sit here alone?” he asked the House, knowing full well he wasn’t going to get an answer. With any luck, someone else would blink in and he’d have a nice distraction. The last time he had seen Sam was nice – he’d taught him a bit about swordsmanship, and the boy had taken to it surprisingly quickly. Nico hadn’t thought he’d ever be a good teacher, but he’d enjoyed Sam’s presence. He wouldn’t have been angry if he’d blinked in. Or Myrnin. The chance to just… go into a room at random with Myrnin could be a welcome distraction, especially considering they were both capable fighters. “You know,” he told the House wryly, crossing his arms, “I’d even take Hook.” Samuel | Living Room Good ol' Retcon | strider Without much fuss or bother on the part of the House, Sam blinked in. It was almost like the House had decided to be nice and take requests. The boy's hair looked as disheveled as before and the rest of him wasn't much better, but at least things for the most part seemed to have settled down around his face. He shifted from foot to foot before turning to look at Nico and at once brightened. He remembered the previous time he'd blinked in and it had mostly included a good time (and secrets. Always secrets.) "Hello Nico!" he greeted brightly. Then he noticed his expression and Sam's promptly fell. "Are you alright?" he asked. He glanced around, as if something here in the living room might have caused the other boy to be distressed. He felt like he was prying ... after all, until he'd blinked in ... well ... thinking about it wasn't one the table. He was already making sure his hands didn't wrap around himself. |
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Post by <Raintalon> on May 15, 2020 7:18:58 GMT -5
"Then let's work together, Mei." Satoru kept a smile for a moment more before focusing back on what was ahead. Where could they go? For as far as he could see before the red haze obscured the furthest edges was just lava and various furniture. Tracing it with his eyes, he could picture a sort of path. Where it went was the biggest mystery, but it had to be better than here.
"You didn't seem surprised before," Satoru commented curiously, "have you been here?" Unless her flatness was just how she dealt with things. He inched carefully towards the couch's armrest so he could stand up a little more and judge the gap from here to the kitchen counter. It had floated a little closer now, leaving a less harsher gap between it and the couch. Mei nodded. "Mm. Let's." She followed his gaze, trying to get an idea of his plan, and it didn't take very long to work out what it was, and what the House clearly wanted them to do. The path wasn't very clear, and some of the jumps would be really dangerous(especially considering her lack of coordination), but it was obviously a path, and she had a pretty good feeling that something bad would happen if they ignored it and stayed here. "I got here a while ago," she said, turning her attention back to Satoru as he asked a question that held a fundamental misunderstanding about how death worked. Well, he didn't believe they were dead, after all. "After that, I haven't left or gone anywhere. I can't tell for sure how long I've been here, though. Be careful," she added flatly, as she saw him beginning to work out his first jump. |
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on May 15, 2020 9:50:16 GMT -5
Kelsier | Trust Exercise Room | i@strider Of course Kelsier wanted out of this place. Of course he wanted to escape the stupid thing, or being, or whatever it was, that had hurt him and people he was beginning, unwisely, to care about. But what he wanted even more was to destroy it. Nico might have been horrified it he’d known how badly Kelsier wanted that. How, given the opportunity, he wouldn’t hesitate. Because this...this thing was no better than the Lord Ruler. It brought innocent people, children, here and it hurt them. Badly. Who was he if he even thought for a second that it deserved to exist? What, because of the friends he’s made? He paused at that thought, because he wasn’t sure Nico would like being considered a friend to a man like him. And yet, he was perhaps as close to being a friend as anyone in the House was. Closer. He nodded, not surprised as Nico told him he’d been blinking in before he could defend himself. Because it was the House, and the House didn’t give a damn about who it hurt. All it seemed to care about was its own sick entertainment. But did that mean the Mistborn was just going to sit about in the living room, reading empty books to pass the time? Of course he wasn’t. He wouldn’t be Kelsier, Lord of the Mists, Survivor of Hathsin, if he did that. He would just be another victim. He was not a victim. The House was going to learn that pretty quick, if he got his way. For Kelsier, it was less about control and more about freedom. Some people would have argued those were the same thing, but Kel didn’t think so. Control meant you could change your surroundings, and make them better, or worse. Freedom meant you could change yourself. For better or for worse, it meant taking your life in your hands. If Nico wanted control over his surroundings, Kelsier wanted it over himself. And then he would figure out the next step once he had that part down. “Easier, yes. But not better.” He answered, his tone serious, even though his eyes were bright and there was a smile on his face. “But I’ll still go in rooms. If only to prove the House wrong, and beat it at its own game. Or maybe I’m just a foolish man who never learns from his mistakes. Sometimes I wonder whether there’s any difference, really between bravery and stupidity. Does it matter? I advocate for both.” “I wish you luck with yours.” He answered just as softly, and for a moment it was like they were friends, instead of...whatever it was they were to each other. For a moment, Kelsier opened his door, almost admitted that he was afraid, he was so afraid that the war really was impossible and the hope he offered did more harm than it did good. Then he was himself again, and his smile deepened. “We’ll succeed. We beat each other, didn’t we? And we’re much more dangerous than some war that thinks it’s better than us.” He laughed. The idea of him actually raising the dead was funny, because it was so far from anything he could actually do. And he knew, instantly, that Nico was joking, he knew because he was getting better at reading mother boy, and he wasn’t sure that was altogether a good thing. It meant they were growing closer and it was a very dangerous game to play, with both of their hearts on the line. They were betting on each other and they didn’t yet know whether that was a safe call. “I’ll be sure to let you know if I spontaneously grow an ability no Mistborn has had before.” He promised, and gave a tiny half bow. “In the meantime, I’m afraid that’s all you.” Talking while skating was hard, it turned out. Kelsier is feet nearly flew out from under him and he yelped and struggled to regain his balance, arms windmilling out to his sides and barely managing to save him from faceplanting on the ice. He straightened up and grinned again, and pushed himself forward, not bothering to go slower this time. Why go slow when faster felt like flying? His grin turned playful and he saluted Nico, giving him an innocent look from across the ice. “What? A challenge? Why ever would you think such a thing of me?” He inquired, a tone of mock hurt creeping into his voice. “If it were a challenge - and I’m not saying it is - but if it were, would you take me up on it?” And then Nico was barreling towards him at top speed and he yelped again, and turned and tried to run. His skates slipped uselessly against the slick surface of the ice and he skidded in place and failed to move out of the way as Nico slammed into him, knocking him flat on his back with all the force a small body moving at high speeds could generate. He was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. His first time wiping out, and it was because Nico had body slammed him? Priceless. He couldn’t get any words out for a few minutes at least, laughter flooding his body like medicine, erasing any pain he might have felt from falling so hard. “Are...are you...okay…?” He managed to gasp at last, raising his head to look at Nico. “Lord Ruler, I wasn’t expecting that. How have I never done this before? Why don’t people do this more often?” |
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Post by <Raintalon> on May 15, 2020 10:13:43 GMT -5
Sachiko | Arena pt 2 | mintedstar/fur |It was, however, unnecessary to wake Sachiko. She was already sitting up, very still, her eyes trained on a random point in the darkness as she focused in on what she could hear. “I know,” she said quietly, not moving a muscle as the Doctor approached her. “I heard...something.” In fact, she’d been about to come wake one of the others when the other had beaten her to the punch. She allowed the Doctor to pull her to her feet and began to creep along with her, careful to keep her footfalls soft. She felt very wide awake - that kind of artificial awake that’s sharpened with adrenaline rather than actual restfulness. She’d always found that to be a good feeling. Probably why she had the job she had. “Do you have a weapon?” she asked, keeping her voice very low.
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Post by <Raintalon> on May 15, 2020 11:30:07 GMT -5
Matt | Mall room | Lark | Matt gasped, his breath coming shallowly as he suddenly found himself grabbed, a knife pressed against his throat. “Ghhh woah woah woah okay - “ he sputtered, scrambling backwards a little to try and get the cold metal to ease up on his neck. “Take it eas - woah, Joey?” He blinked, suddenly recognizing the person who had him pinned. Well, this was awkward. “Long time no see,” he said, in a strangled voice. |
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strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on May 15, 2020 11:40:13 GMT -5
Nico hadn’t thought about whether anyone was alive in the cave he’d chosen to blink into. If he were being honest, it didn’t matter to him. He just… well, he wanted some peace and quiet. He wanted somewhere to mourn. His body shook with silent sobs as he knelt over Myrnin’s body, death and cold radiating off of him in waves. He wouldn’t be able to make another shadow jump in this state, not without passing out before he got to his new location. His lips silently formed the names of the people he’d lost in this room, the people that mattered. Not that everyone else didn’t matter, it was just that Nico didn’t know them, and he didn’t have the mental energy left to mourn them. The truth was, Nico was at the absolute end of his rope. He was so tired and the loss of his friends hurt too much. Their bodies were still here, he could feel them, and he wasn’t used to that, he really wasn’t. And then, casting out his energy, he felt life. Two people, moving closer. Nico’s heart sped up and he scrambled backwards, pressing himself against the wall. Stay. Away, he thought, redoubling his efforts to keep his powers spanning out around him. This part of the cavern was cold and dangerous. This part of the cavern was deadly. Stay away, stay away. Leave me alone. |
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Post by ~∂єѕтιиу on May 15, 2020 16:54:25 GMT -5
~∂єѕтιиу Acid Parkour Watching Vincent make his way casually over while he dangled pitifully was horridly disheartening, even more so when he finally landed and simply stared at his strained hands. Ravohyr hoped that perhaps he was just thinking through the situation, weighing the possibilities or the safest way to get him back up without them both falling in. Given the weight difference, it would be a very viable concern; without some kind of leverage, the blond would surely just topple in as well. His ears almost seemed to perk up when he began speaking and he realized that, looking closer at his face now, he seemed more amused by the situation than anything. Which, frankly, he found rather offensive! "Er- yes..." he answered quietly, then jolted as he began to walk off. "Wait, sera! Please!" he called after him, straining to lift himself enough to follow the man with his eyes. It was no use; his arms still too strained from his initial blunder, he only made it about half way up before collapsing back to his hanging position. Okay, okay. At this point, he deemed it safe to assume he would get no help. There was still the possibility he might just be looking for that leverage he'd pondered earlier, buut... There was no way in Oblivion he'd bet on it. Sighing, he tried to shift his weight to one arm and let his other relax, letting go ever so cautiously of the ledge to shuffle through his bag. His potions were used up, it seemed... And one needs two hands to cast spells in most cases. Returning his hand to the ledge, he thought for a moment, looking about. The rope was still there, but... Upon reaching for it, straining for as much distance as he could muster, it was too far to be of help. Well, drat. Reaching back, he lifted his axe out of his holster and tossed it up onto the platform, almost slipping off entirely just from the relief of having so much weight gone. He breathed in deeply through his nose and readjusted his grip on the edge, flexing his fingers and trying to rest his shoulders for a moment. Peering around under the platform, he was further distressed to find there was nothing to brace his feet on. No beams in range, just a tall support block in the middle, too far for him to bother stretching for. That meant arms only. Doable. Closing his eyes, he whimpered and whined tragically, promising himself to sleep through a whole cycle as soon as he was home. Guild responsibilities he damned, if he made it. He opened his eyes again, taking in a few deep breaths. Then, with the strained but still present strength of a man that had pulled a boat from the sea a few miles inland, began to hoist himself back up. Slowly but surely, until he was near enough he could hook his elbow up and anchor his forearm. Then, heaving with his(God blessed, literally) shoulders, the other, then he tipped over to balance his weight and swung his legs up as well. For a moment he just rolled onto his back, feeling his mouth dry and his breath now coming in quick gasps as he righted himself. "Oh nine, bless me... Azura, I'm your eternal servant, I swear it," he mumbled, though wasn't sure she could hear him here. After his rest, he popped back up to his feet, returned his axe to its holster and made to carry on through the last two obstacles, more careful now, but yet still even more eager to just be done with all of this. It helped to rely more on his legs than his arms the last couple of segments, and boy did they throb when he did use them, an annoying protest of his body which he ignored, pushing on. Seeing Vincent at the very end, he frowned to himself. It was good he had gotten there, he supposed... And there could be any number of reasons he didn't come back for him, which he noticed Yet, still, he found it to be oddly, mildly infuriating he had left him there to hang and fall to his death. At last, he landed on the final platform, equally as thrilled to see his belongings waiting for him. This seemed a bit awkward, somehow, so he offered a grin, albeit a halfhearted one, and huffed out, "Ah, I'm glad to see you made it to the end, sera. Its uh... No hard feelings?" he offered, extending a hand to him. (I’m so sorry this is short) Vincent collected his jacket with little expression, though the scuff of his heel as he approached suggested he was satisfied. He’d been somewhat anxious about the room, but it concluded with such little issue that he was feeling pretty good. Ravohyr was a causality that hadn’t taken any effort, and it didn’t come with any reward, so he cared little about the whole ordeal. It wasn’t until he was pulling his second arm through his sleeve that he heard any sign of the dark elf. He turned around quickly, staring blankly as Ravohyr landed on the finishing platform. He glanced towards the obstacle he’d left the elf at as his company smiled at him - taking a step backwards as he approached. The elf was between him and the door... He blinked once at the question, glanced down at his extended hand, then looked back up at the elf. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he said nothing; silently turning away from the dark elf’s proposition with a silent scoff. He didn’t seemed terribly upset that the elf was back, but he seemed set that he wanted to get away from him. |
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Post by ~∂єѕтιиу on May 15, 2020 18:00:14 GMT -5
Vincent glanced Eises, carefully watching her ears, hoping their rotation could give him a clue as to what she was hearing faster than she could shout it out. His heart was still pounding as he reached into his pocket, shaking his head slightly as he pulled out the only weapon he had on him - a small switchblade. The f*** was a switchblade going to do?He’d felt comforted when he’d first started carrying it, knowing it was the only weapon he could easily pocket that would blink in with him, but now he felt it was pretty useless. Any feeling of safety that the blade provided quickly plummeted when the first creature leaped into vision. He sunk away from his companion quickly, seeing that she seemed to be the beast’s target. He backed away quickly, bouncing on his toes for a moment before turning to find a place to hide. Just as he turned his back to Eises, the second beast slammed down onto the earth in front of him. Startled, he managed to pull himself to the side as the feline creature snapped at his chest. He jerked up his arm, attempting to slice at the beast as it moved past him, but his blade snagged against the strange rock exterior and was immediately ripped from his hand. He staggered backwards in surprise, spinning around as he heard Eises shout at the cat. She had a point, he would be an unsatisfactory meal, and not much of a sport. The cat dipped its head at him, opening its lips in a nasty snarl with a noise that resembled a rumbling hiss. Assuming it was reading itself to come at him again, he looked to his company desperately. “Eises,” he said through his teeth, though he was uncertain what she could do. She was the one with ice powers - he figured she could come up with something. Eises peered over to Vin-sint's moving hand. A...knife? It was terribly small. Maybe if he's lucky and that beast is skinny enough... Did he know how to use it? He knew, right? "Don't you p-people carry a gun or somethin'?" Don't tell me he's the type of rich sleaze who just have body guards?Her eyes narrowed sharply as she leaped into the air, jumping over the beast that decided to spring over to her. She landed on her feet onto its back just as it stopped before it could run into the ice wall. She held her balance with a crouch and with one hand on its fur; she clenched her other fist to her side, causing a piece of the ice-wall to explode at the beast's face. Some chunks of ice flew dangerously close to Vin-sint and landed near him, with one landing on the head of the second beast. She faced the front of the feline, still on its back, and swung both opened-palmed hands backwards in a vertical arch. Sharp chunks of ice immediately grew upwards from the ground and around the monster's legs. Vaulting forward with a flip, she landed in front of feline, encasing her lower left leg with ice. She then whirled around with a swift kick to its jaw, the ice on her leg shattering. Eises tensed her fingers to deal another blow to the creature, but stopped when it started whimpering. Panic was filling its eyes. "O-Oh, um...sorry?" She took several steps back. It was no longer focused on her, but frantically looking around and onto its legs, trying to pull itself out. "Y-Yeah okay, u-uh, h-hold still." Waving her hand to the side, she wondered out loud, "Is the human still alive?" Vincent let out an annoyed huff at her question. “What do you think I would’ve pulled out if I had a gun on me?” He snapped back. He wished his gun was on him enough as is - he didn’t need other people pointing out how nice it be if he had it. He doubted that having more experience with knives would’ve done him any better than what his amateur strike had gotten him - but loosing his blade made him long for his gun again. He had a decent shot; and he would’ve had something to do with himself as the beast stood away from him, looking at him like a meal. Without a suitable weapon, he could only stare at the cat, acutely aware that he couldn’t outrun it. The creature sunk deeper, presenting it’s long fangs and a sickly colored tongue as it prepared to pounce. Before it could push off the ground, however, varying sizes of ice shards scattered across ground around the blond. He reeled back, surprised, but seized ahold of the largest piece he could manage as the beast yowled in pain from the chuck that had struck its temple. The man hoped the beast’s attention would be divided, but its gaze found him again quickly, now burning with fury. He braced himself as the cat jolted towards him, large claw marks digging into the soft dirt behind it. Within seconds, a toothy maw was in his face; leaving him to desperately bring up the ice chunk across the beast‘s jaw. The attack, which was less effective than he’d hoped, only pissed the creature off further. With a heavy paw, the cat slammed him onto his back, hissing into his face. Pain jolted through his collarbone, earning a strained; “F***,” as he squinted up at the cat’s face hovering above him. |
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Asexual
Lark
Hello, its just, me, and 1567396558397583479 larks
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Post by Lark on May 15, 2020 18:16:46 GMT -5
Joey | Mall room | Rain | "You again?" The bitter words escaped the other's freezing lips. The weather had gotten to him like it always had, there was never a day that went by when Ormond wasn't cold. Having been in the much milder environment that was the mall he was starting to feel his body become less numb. That did help him realize one other thing - the hostage's position. Nothing was to be learned, Matt's own words bounced off him like someone who wanted to save his own skin. It all came together, the pieces useless as they were his judgement was formed. Silently the masked figure removed his arm from around the poor man's neck no longer holding him at knifepoint. He gave the more experienced a nudge with his elbow to get up, rolling his bright brown eyes. Blade no longer around the others neck the young man was starting to miss the warmth coming from the entrapped idiot's body. Given the last time he'd been set up near Matt this house thing might force them to run a mile throughout the mall. "How are you even here? This place shouldn't exist and neither should these episodes." He eyed the store wearily not exactly that naive to turn his back on his former captive. |
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on May 15, 2020 23:32:58 GMT -5
And just as Nico had been thinking about the other boy, he blinked in. If the House was willing to just blink in people Nico was thinking about, perhaps he should try thinking about Rae or Din or Noctin more often. The people he hadn’t seen in a while who he wanted to check in on. But that was beside the point, and was definitely an experiment for another time, because Sam was just the distraction Nico had been hoping for. “Hello Sam,” Nico returned, his tone more cheerful than it would have been around most other people who blinked in. Sam he knew at least a little bit, and he rather liked spending time with him. If only because he was similar to Nico in age and seemed to be able to handle himself. That and he hadn’t seemed frightened of Nico in the slightest. In retrospect, perhaps Nico’s bar for new friends was just a little bit low. “I… yeah, I’m alright. Things are happening in my world that… I guess I wasn’t really prepared for.” Nico shrugged, glancing at the scepter that leaned against the wall. “Pretty soon here I’ll have to see if I actually know what I’m doing here or… or if thins aren’t gonna be that easy. Don’t… don’t worry about me, though.” He twisted the ring on his finger, not quite meeting Sam’s gaze. He hadn’t meant to just dump that kind of thing on him, and he wondered if perhaps he shouldn’t have answered quite so honestly, but Sam had asked. Nico didn’t want to lie to him. “How are you doing?” he asked instead, directing his attention towards the other boy. |
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Post by Numquam on May 16, 2020 0:15:22 GMT -5
Eises peered over to Vin-sint's moving hand. A...knife? It was terribly small. Maybe if he's lucky and that beast is skinny enough... Did he know how to use it? He knew, right? "Don't you p-people carry a gun or somethin'?" Don't tell me he's the type of rich sleaze who just have body guards?Her eyes narrowed sharply as she leaped into the air, jumping over the beast that decided to spring over to her. She landed on her feet onto its back just as it stopped before it could run into the ice wall. She held her balance with a crouch and with one hand on its fur; she clenched her other fist to her side, causing a piece of the ice-wall to explode at the beast's face. Some chunks of ice flew dangerously close to Vin-sint and landed near him, with one landing on the head of the second beast. She faced the front of the feline, still on its back, and swung both opened-palmed hands backwards in a vertical arch. Sharp chunks of ice immediately grew upwards from the ground and around the monster's legs. Vaulting forward with a flip, she landed in front of feline, encasing her lower left leg with ice. She then whirled around with a swift kick to its jaw, the ice on her leg shattering. Eises tensed her fingers to deal another blow to the creature, but stopped when it started whimpering. Panic was filling its eyes. "O-Oh, um...sorry?" She took several steps back. It was no longer focused on her, but frantically looking around and onto its legs, trying to pull itself out. "Y-Yeah okay, u-uh, h-hold still." Waving her hand to the side, she wondered out loud, "Is the human still alive?" Vincent let out an annoyed huff at her question. “What do you think I would’ve pulled out if I had a gun on me?” He snapped back. He wished his gun was on him enough as is - he didn’t need other people pointing out how nice it be if he had it. He doubted that having more experience with knives would’ve done him any better than what his amateur strike had gotten him - but loosing his blade made him long for his gun again. He had a decent shot; and he would’ve had something to do with himself as the beast stood away from him, looking at him like a meal. Without a suitable weapon, he could only stare at the cat, acutely aware that he couldn’t outrun it. The creature sunk deeper, presenting it’s long fangs and a sickly colored tongue as it prepared to pounce. Before it could push off the ground, however, varying sizes of ice shards scattered across ground around the blond. He reeled back, surprised, but seized ahold of the largest piece he could manage as the beast yowled in pain from the chuck that had struck its temple. The man hoped the beast’s attention would be divided, but its gaze found him again quickly, now burning with fury. He braced himself as the cat jolted towards him, large claw marks digging into the soft dirt behind it. Within seconds, a toothy maw was in his face; leaving him to desperately bring up the ice chunk across the beast‘s jaw. The attack, which was less effective than he’d hoped, only pissed the creature off further. With a heavy paw, the cat slammed him onto his back, hissing into his face. Pain jolted through his collarbone, earning a strained; “F***,” as he squinted up at the cat’s face hovering above him. Eises snorted, "As if I'd trust a human to be smart in a fight." She wouldn't be surprised if he had a gun and still pulled out a knife first. Seeing weird men in suits always made Eises assume the worst out of them. As she waved her hand once, the ice surrounding the first beast began to melt and shrink. The moment it was able to break free, it bolted into the trees with its ears flattened back and tail between its legs. "Y-You should find better food next time!" There wasn't any hint of anger in her voice. She narrowed her eyes, watching the second beast stand over Vin-sint. The thought of leaving him be was very tempting. It had nothing to do with saving herself, she seemed to handle the first beast alright. He's kind of a jerk plus he's probably rich... It was actually the fact that she assumed he had money that made her hesitate. She brought a finger to her chin, wondering if any money she could loot off of him would blink back with her. She could pass it off as something else for some money of her own. Did he have a fancy watch? Necklace?Although, even if she watched Vin-sint become dinner, the feline would likely still go after her. Either he comes for me next because he's still hungry, or he attacks me because I'm in his territory... It would seem that, no matter what, she would have to fight it off. She clicked her tongue with a frown before lifting a palm. A large chunk of ice formed and floated above her hand. Eises then mimicked a throwing motion, launching the ice straight towards the beast. |
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Post by ~∂єѕтιиу on May 16, 2020 1:11:36 GMT -5
NumquamNarrow feline slits were focused on the man as he tried to pull his head further away from the beast. He knew there wasn’t much use for scrambling, and he wasn’t in a position to grab the ice chunk he’s dropped, so his best interest was to turn away from the creature’s hot breath and wait for it to finish him off. He wasn’t tempted to scream, but it was admittedly hard to catch his breath with the giant paw pressing against his lungs. The loud yelp, and sudden release from the weight pinning him down, quickly persuaded Vincent to open his eyes. The beast’s claws drug across his chest as it was knocked off him, but it’s grip only managed to create two parallel slits in his shirt’s fabric and a narrow slice through the underlying skin. The man started pulling himself backwards before attempting to figure out what had saved him, only looking towards the large piece of ice at the creature’s paws as it started to cringe and bend into a sore spot on its ribs; where it had been struck supposedly. It’s back leg kicked for a moment, trying to paw at the wound as it whined. The hesitation seemed to give it time to realize that it’s partner had left it, and whatever material made up it’s spine seemed to bristle. It turned its head to Eises, ears pulled back, and gave a threatening hiss. Then, tail lashing, it ducked down its head and fled into the jungle after the other beast. Vincent let out a sigh of relief, allowing himself to sink into the dirt for a moment, then pulled himself to his feet. He was now thoroughly covered in sweat, his backside was covered in dirt, and most of his hair was no longer in a ponytail; but he still held himself at full height. He stared at the path the creatures had taken to retreat for a while before his eyes turned towards the display of ice, eventually leading him to his canine company. He looked her up and down, hesitating for a moment before looking away. He seemed entirely unsure of what to do with himself now that she’d chosen to save him...twice. He seemed more frustrated than thankful, but his expression remained difficult to read.
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Post by mintedstar/fur on May 16, 2020 2:32:26 GMT -5
It was pretty ironic that Archie was described as a pompous bastard, since that was exactly what the man thought as soon as Archie blinked in. He wasn't too shocked that the man had just appeared. He'd sort of figured this wasn't going to be a normal day. "Get lost," he said, tone as even and flat as a board as he looked at the hand. Only what he said might have been a bit more rude. Not downright rude, but maybe something bordering discontent at the current state of affairs. All friendly, mind you. Wouldn't want anyone to think the man wasn't friendly. He didn't trust gods who shook hands. Not that he was completely sure this was a god and it wasn't like he'd met many gods. Or any, really. But it was the context. Gods didn't shake hands. It was beneath them. Logically then, this was either a very untrustworthy god or not a god at all. Come to think of it, he didn't trust gods at all and not many people either. This man reminded him of a peacock as well. But it was the attitude. It was the sort of one which didn't get things done and never gave satisfactory answers. So he was going to regret the next question. "I'm only lost if someone's dragged me off my street corner. Who are you?" It might have been a good idea to ask where he was, but that would come later. The man wasn't intent on panicking and certainly not in front of Archie. He had a horn, like a ram's or goat's. That at least meant he wasn't human. Also not a wizard. Didn't fit the MO, unless you counted the robes. His eyebrows bounced up at the abrupt rejection, though the grin didn't fade, not one bit. Oh, how interesting. Generally speaking, he didn't along very well with people that weren't as preppy and likable as himself. However, that never meant he couldn't have fun with people that were beyond that spectrum. This seemed to be one of those cases, and by all the stars, he was thrilled. "Oh believe me, sir, you would truly hate it if I did," he said evenly, withdrawing his hand and folding both of them behind his back casually, fiddling with the ties and chains on the back of his ostentatious garment. "My proper name is Anarchy, I tend to invite people to call me Archie. Dare I care what your name might be, Mr. Grumpybumpidybee? Ah, well... This isn't much of a street corner, I'm afraid. Perhaps metaphorically speaking, it could be the street corner as far as dimensions go. I gather you're not aware of where you are, given how, ah... wary, you seem to be," he drawled, his usual chippy tone dulled significantly, to the point that his grin would be, by whatever normal standards, very out of place. Surely, surely, not threatening, though. Surely. Of course, he was not going to offer to tell this man where he was. If he wanted to know he could very well ask. In the meantime, he took to examining him thoroughly; from the soggy top of his head to the soggier tips of his boots. "You're very much soaked, I don't know if you're aware," he said. "I can't imagine why you're so very agitated about it, given how mild it is in here. And, rather fortunately, this is the safest room to be in. Usually." Depending on your present company, any way. He'd caught wind of a few times the living room's inhabitants had made it... less than inhabitable. Anarchy. It was a pompous name to go with a pompous person. Vimes thought about it for a second. There wasn't much to think about really, so it wasn't difficult to come to a conclusion. That's a name which is trying too hard. Vimes couldn't say he was very impressed. It was the sort of name that a god didn't have. Demigod. That seemed to put the world in its place for Vimes. He practically relaxed. A snotty nosed demigod. "Commander Sir Samuel Vimes," he answered simply. Archie, at least, seemed lest petulant than "Anarchy". "Commander Vimes will do." It seemed fairly obvious to him what he was commander of. But that didn't mean this Archie completely knew what he was dealing with. "Well?" prompted Vimes. He was still dripping, but he seemed to have substituted being ticked off for a quiet air of annoyance. Not that he wouldn't do something. "What is it?" He was wringing out the bits of cloth on his uniform. If you weren't supposed to do that in the presence of Archie, clearly Vimes didn't care. "If there's a crime to report," he said dryly. "I assumed there would be some other channels to ask for me. And paperwork." |
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Post by mintedstar/fur on May 16, 2020 2:59:34 GMT -5
"No," said The Doctor softly. Her footfalls were even quieter than the other woman's. It had been a while since she'd snuck anywhere, but old skills died hard. "I don't do weapons." But as they got closer to the source of the sound, The Doctor couldn't help feeling like she needed to close her hands around ... something. She felt her fingers close around the air, anxiety humming through her. It made her just as sharp as Sachiko, but there didn't seem to be much about the situation that she could change. Someone was here. It was dark. The chain of caverns were dark and she found herself walking along them. Each step made the feeling of cold and anxiety and danger heighten. She'd experienced that before though. It just made her steps surer and her hearts beat with a rhythm that she couldn't possibly keep from escaping into her fingers. They shook just a little. Death. There was death her. She wasn't sure how she knew it. But she knew it like she knew her own name and who she had been and what she did on a daily basis. There was death here. And if there was one thing about The Doctor, the foolish part who seemed to know where her worst nightmares would be, it was that when faced with death she hurried forward. And what she found was death. The body was there, bloodied, and very clearly dead. The Doctor spun, looking for whoever was here. Someone in the shadows. Someone trying to hide. She could sense the thoughts more than the person, as if he was almost trying to blend into the darkness. She stepped forward, the gesture far more threatening than she might have intended if she'd been thinking straight. |
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Post by Shadepelt15 on May 16, 2020 3:46:49 GMT -5
(I’m so sorry this is short) Vincent collected his jacket with little expression, though the scuff of his heel as he approached suggested he was satisfied. He’d been somewhat anxious about the room, but it concluded with such little issue that he was feeling pretty good. Ravohyr was a causality that hadn’t taken any effort, and it didn’t come with any reward, so he cared little about the whole ordeal. It wasn’t until he was pulling his second arm through his sleeve that he heard any sign of the dark elf. He turned around quickly, staring blankly as Ravohyr landed on the finishing platform. He glanced towards the obstacle he’d left the elf at as his company smiled at him - taking a step backwards as he approached. The elf was between him and the door... He blinked once at the question, glanced down at his extended hand, then looked back up at the elf. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he said nothing; silently turning away from the dark elf’s proposition with a silent scoff. He didn’t seemed terribly upset that the elf was back, but he seemed set that he wanted to get away from him. youre good bih i gotchu)) When Vincent just turned away from him, Ravohyr's welcoming expression dropped and he found himself frowning. The scoff really sealed the deal. Okay, this was, he had to admit, beyond a little shady and kind of agitating. Still, he didn't want to be totally rotten about it, people were people and had their own things to deal with. That didn't mean he couldn't try and break the ice- not that he felt there was any, but his blond company was obviously distressed about the whole situation. Maybe he didn't know how things worked and he felt guilty. Yeah, that was probably it. While Vincent was making to head for the exist, a grin struck out across his face and he set down the armor in his hands, waiting a moment then going over and grabbing the mans waist to pull him back. With one grip firmly established, he went for another on his shoulders and scooped him up. By now, his strength had returned for the most part. Not that he had any difficulty holding Vincent anyways... But with the cold bastard in his arms, he now strode over to the edge of the platform and held him aloft over the acid. His grip was still firm, he had no intentions of letting him go and, well, now that he was thinking about this more thoroughly he contemplated just how much of an ice breaker it would really be. Was it an ice breaker, or had his darker temper eeked out just a bit? Eh. "Ooohh noo, don't faalll! Its alright, I'll save you, noble sera!" he said, a halfhearted dramatic flare to his tone. He obviously wasn't a theater kid, buuut... "You're safe with me!" He made no effort to return Vincent to the platform, instead just holding him out at arms length. If he crawled over Ravohyr's head he could get there, but, well... That could be dangerous. |
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Post by ~∂єѕтιиу on May 16, 2020 4:52:31 GMT -5
Shadepelt15Vincent was trying not to walk too quickly - hoping that he wouldn’t give Ravohyr any ideas that he didn’t already possess - but as the elf grabbed him he immediately wished he’d ran for the door when he had the chance. He tried to rip himself away before the dark elf could properly keep him still, but his efforts were in vain. There was a flare of panic when he was suddenly plucked from the comfort of solid ground, causing him to seize up and attempt to squirm his way free. He didn’t know what the elf had planned, but this was certainly some kind of payback that he didn’t want to see the ending to. Malicious intent or not, he did not like being handled by morons. Before his efforts to escape got him anywhere successful, he had to force himself to stop moving as Ravohyr approached the acid. He made a grab for the elf’s chest, but he was already held in such a way it be awkward to reposition himself, so instead he locked one hand around the elf’s shoulder and the other around his wrist. He desperately wanted to pull his feet up further from the toxin below him, but he was suspicious of what consequences would come with moving too much. His pale eyes stayed focused on the acid for several seconds, expecting to be dropped at any moment. When that didn’t happen, he turned a sharp eye on the elf as he started talking. His face was utterly unreadable, and whatever was going on in his mind was only seen through the iron grip he still had on the elf. He had no intentions for begging, because such was beneath him, and reasoning with such a creature was a waste of potentially precious breath. It was almost distracting how much he wanted down, but he managed to keep himself from spitting curses at the elf. “Drop me, or put me back.” He said after a few seconds, managing to pronounce his words without clenching his teeth. In fact, his face had become more readable, and the smallest smirk suggested he knew which option the chatty bastard would take out of the two. His grip even eased, his eyes entirely fixed on the elf’s face. He’d could even speed up the discussion making process if the dumbass took too long. His small smile was no mask for his annoyance, which he now wore like mildly amused parent dealing with a child’s tantrum.
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Post by Shadepelt15 on May 16, 2020 5:11:43 GMT -5
~∂єѕтιиуRavohyr's eyebrows peaked as Vincent grappled onto his shoulders and he almost snorted. Oh boy, that was cruelly funny, oh nine. Taking a precaution against the poor bastards squirmings, he planted one foot a little further back on the platform and leaned his weight onto it to anchor them a bit better. He waited while he sorted himself out for a reaction, actually finding himself analyzing him in an effort to figure him out. It didn't help much. A twinge of guilt began to show through just a bit, until he saw that smile that seemed so mature and condescending in nature, causing him to raise his own judgmental eyebrow as he stared at him. At this point, he wondered how truly he felt. His grip had eased, but still; was this man so fearless that he'd directly challenge his will to throw a stranger away? Ravohyr hummed softly at him. Well, it had gone on long enough. Winding one of his arms properly under the mans shoulders, he dropped his feet and let him plummet a foot as he brought him back to the platform, using the other hand to stabilize him before he let go. "Alright, alright... We've had enough fun in here," he said, turning away from him and going to reequip his armor, putting his shirt and sleeves and whatnot back on. "How do we go about getting out? We just leave?" he inquired over his shoulder, unsure if he had even stuck around to hear his question.
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Post by Shadepelt15 on May 16, 2020 5:29:04 GMT -5
Archie | Living Room | mintedstar/fur His eyebrows bounced up at the abrupt rejection, though the grin didn't fade, not one bit. Oh, how interesting. Generally speaking, he didn't along very well with people that weren't as preppy and likable as himself. However, that never meant he couldn't have fun with people that were beyond that spectrum. This seemed to be one of those cases, and by all the stars, he was thrilled. "Oh believe me, sir, you would truly hate it if I did," he said evenly, withdrawing his hand and folding both of them behind his back casually, fiddling with the ties and chains on the back of his ostentatious garment. "My proper name is Anarchy, I tend to invite people to call me Archie. Dare I care what your name might be, Mr. Grumpybumpidybee? Ah, well... This isn't much of a street corner, I'm afraid. Perhaps metaphorically speaking, it could be the street corner as far as dimensions go. I gather you're not aware of where you are, given how, ah... wary, you seem to be," he drawled, his usual chippy tone dulled significantly, to the point that his grin would be, by whatever normal standards, very out of place. Surely, surely, not threatening, though. Surely. Of course, he was not going to offer to tell this man where he was. If he wanted to know he could very well ask. In the meantime, he took to examining him thoroughly; from the soggy top of his head to the soggier tips of his boots. "You're very much soaked, I don't know if you're aware," he said. "I can't imagine why you're so very agitated about it, given how mild it is in here. And, rather fortunately, this is the safest room to be in. Usually." Depending on your present company, any way. He'd caught wind of a few times the living room's inhabitants had made it... less than inhabitable. Anarchy. It was a pompous name to go with a pompous person. Vimes thought about it for a second. There wasn't much to think about really, so it wasn't difficult to come to a conclusion. That's a name which is trying too hard. Vimes couldn't say he was very impressed. It was the sort of name that a god didn't have. Demigod. That seemed to put the world in its place for Vimes. He practically relaxed. A snotty nosed demigod. "Commander Sir Samuel Vimes," he answered simply. Archie, at least, seemed lest petulant than "Anarchy". "Commander Vimes will do." It seemed fairly obvious to him what he was commander of. But that didn't mean this Archie completely knew what he was dealing with. "Well?" prompted Vimes. He was still dripping, but he seemed to have substituted being ticked off for a quiet air of annoyance. Not that he wouldn't do something. "What is it?" He was wringing out the bits of cloth on his uniform. If you weren't supposed to do that in the presence of Archie, clearly Vimes didn't care. "If there's a crime to report," he said dryly. "I assumed there would be some other channels to ask for me. And paperwork." Oh, this was quite fun. Grumpy people were quite fun, he recalled... Perhaps he'd been a bit too quick to jump into hostility. There was still plenty he could do to mess with this guy. He found himself chuckling softly. He watched placidly as he began to wring out his clothes, not particularly bothered but finding a wee bit of impatience tickling something on the edges of... well, him. "Would you like me to dry you off? It might spare you some time," he offered, almost stiffly. When the man prompted him for something else, he did genuinely look confused. A look that wasn't often presented, given how odd it looked. "I beg your pardon, Commander Vimes... But I've no idea to what you're referring. i have no direct business with you, nor did I bring you to this place myself. I'm as much of a victim here as you are," he said, making a graceful, fluid motion with his arm that made his robes and jewelry glisten rather majestically. Archie could gather he was a busy man, or at least busy enough that it set him bothered enough to be grouchy. Perhaps his commander position was too taxing. Well, depending on what he was commander of. A fleet? A fort? A flock? He snorted softly to himself. All this in mind, he found it very hard to believe he'd have the time to take him seriously even if he did explain the house. Busy men always seemed eager to brush him off.. tragically. |
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Post by mintedstar/fur on May 16, 2020 15:36:37 GMT -5
Anarchy. It was a pompous name to go with a pompous person. Vimes thought about it for a second. There wasn't much to think about really, so it wasn't difficult to come to a conclusion. That's a name which is trying too hard. Vimes couldn't say he was very impressed. It was the sort of name that a god didn't have. Demigod. That seemed to put the world in its place for Vimes. He practically relaxed. A snotty nosed demigod. "Commander Sir Samuel Vimes," he answered simply. Archie, at least, seemed lest petulant than "Anarchy". "Commander Vimes will do." It seemed fairly obvious to him what he was commander of. But that didn't mean this Archie completely knew what he was dealing with. "Well?" prompted Vimes. He was still dripping, but he seemed to have substituted being ticked off for a quiet air of annoyance. Not that he wouldn't do something. "What is it?" He was wringing out the bits of cloth on his uniform. If you weren't supposed to do that in the presence of Archie, clearly Vimes didn't care. "If there's a crime to report," he said dryly. "I assumed there would be some other channels to ask for me. And paperwork." Oh, this was quite fun. Grumpy people were quite fun, he recalled... Perhaps he'd been a bit too quick to jump into hostility. There was still plenty he could do to mess with this guy. He found himself chuckling softly. He watched placidly as he began to wring out his clothes, not particularly bothered but finding a wee bit of impatience tickling something on the edges of... well, him. "Would you like me to dry you off? It might spare you some time," he offered, almost stiffly. When the man prompted him for something else, he did genuinely look confused. A look that wasn't often presented, given how odd it looked. "I beg your pardon, Commander Vimes... But I've no idea to what you're referring. i have no direct business with you, nor did I bring you to this place myself. I'm as much of a victim here as you are," he said, making a graceful, fluid motion with his arm that made his robes and jewelry glisten rather majestically. Archie could gather he was a busy man, or at least busy enough that it set him bothered enough to be grouchy. Perhaps his commander position was too taxing. Well, depending on what he was commander of. A fleet? A fort? A flock? He snorted softly to himself. All this in mind, he found it very hard to believe he'd have the time to take him seriously even if he did explain the house. Busy men always seemed eager to brush him off.. tragically. Now, there was a temptation to refuse Archie's offer out of stubbornness, but Vimes didn't actually see a point. Dry clothes were dry clothes. It did seem a bit annoying that it felt like a debt, but Vimes reasoned that there was enough of a confusion around this place that it was owed to him. "It would be appreciated," he said with a nod. He paused, considering the room again. It had been formulating a picture in the back of his head for a while and slowly he was gathering exactly what Archie had just said. He was too flashy. This place wasn't fancy enough for it. Oh, Vimes would have loved to live somewhere here. It was far more upperclass than what he'd known in his youth. But living with Sybil had proven without a doubt how nobility lived. This wasn't godlike or even noble like. "I see," he said. His voice had shifted again, to sharpened curiosity. "So," he asked. "What are you?" It wasn't really mainly meant to be rude. It was meant to analyze. What was powerful enough to take a god (or demigod) off the streets? |
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Post by mintedstar/fur on May 16, 2020 16:23:11 GMT -5
(Dont worry, you're fine!) "Ah, well that certainly is good," Ciel muttered, smiling only for a second. "And as for me, not much either. It's been rather boring actually, so I'm glad I managed to blink in." He glanced around the room for a moment, noticing a few new individuals. "So it seems the House keeps bringing people here, huh," the Earl scoffed and shook his head, looking back at his friend. "Have you met any of the new blinkers?" (Thing are going nice over here. How are you?) "Depends on what you consider new," Kid said with a sigh. He dropped into a chair like hanging out in the House was as natural to him as breathing. "I think the House is exclusively set on using me as a walking "welcome to the House" speech. Most of the time, the only people I see are new blinkers." He leaned forward, bracing his hands on his knees. He realized after a second that he might know a piece of House gossip that Ciel didn't. "Have you talked to Arlo recently?" |
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Post by mintedstar/fur on May 16, 2020 16:49:47 GMT -5
And just as Nico had been thinking about the other boy, he blinked in. If the House was willing to just blink in people Nico was thinking about, perhaps he should try thinking about Rae or Din or Noctin more often. The people he hadn’t seen in a while who he wanted to check in on. But that was beside the point, and was definitely an experiment for another time, because Sam was just the distraction Nico had been hoping for. “Hello Sam,” Nico returned, his tone more cheerful than it would have been around most other people who blinked in. Sam he knew at least a little bit, and he rather liked spending time with him. If only because he was similar to Nico in age and seemed to be able to handle himself. That and he hadn’t seemed frightened of Nico in the slightest. In retrospect, perhaps Nico’s bar for new friends was just a little bit low. “I… yeah, I’m alright. Things are happening in my world that… I guess I wasn’t really prepared for.” Nico shrugged, glancing at the scepter that leaned against the wall. “Pretty soon here I’ll have to see if I actually know what I’m doing here or… or if thins aren’t gonna be that easy. Don’t… don’t worry about me, though.” He twisted the ring on his finger, not quite meeting Sam’s gaze. He hadn’t meant to just dump that kind of thing on him, and he wondered if perhaps he shouldn’t have answered quite so honestly, but Sam had asked. Nico didn’t want to lie to him. “How are you doing?” he asked instead, directing his attention towards the other boy. Sam listened patiently and then nodded once. He had expected that Nico had been having a bit of a hard time, but he wasn't sure what he might be doing. He glanced at the scepter, not sure what it was. If Nico had been looking a bit more cheerful, he might have asked if it was cosplay or something like that. Nico had glanced at it like it held a lot more weight than that. "I still might worry about you," Sam pointed out kindly. "Just because I want to help. If I can at all ...?" He left the words there, hoping Nico would do something with them if he needed to. Then he rubbed at the back of his hair, thinking about his world. He bit his lip. "Er ... been better. I ... I'm okay." It was a lie, more than a lie than Nico would have told him. But he didn't want to explain what was happening because that would mean explaining about some of the things which were happening personally. And he wasn't ready to stop pretending he was human yet. "Is ... that from a friend?" he asked, nodding at the scepter. It was the only way he could think it would cause distress. |
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Post by ~∂єѕтιиу on May 16, 2020 18:09:04 GMT -5
~∂єѕтιиу Ravohyr's eyebrows peaked as Vincent grappled onto his shoulders and he almost snorted. Oh boy, that was cruelly funny, oh nine. Taking a precaution against the poor bastards squirmings, he planted one foot a little further back on the platform and leaned his weight onto it to anchor them a bit better. He waited while he sorted himself out for a reaction, actually finding himself analyzing him in an effort to figure him out. It didn't help much. A twinge of guilt began to show through just a bit, until he saw that smile that seemed so mature and condescending in nature, causing him to raise his own judgmental eyebrow as he stared at him. At this point, he wondered how truly he felt. His grip had eased, but still; was this man so fearless that he'd directly challenge his will to throw a stranger away? Ravohyr hummed softly at him. Well, it had gone on long enough. Winding one of his arms properly under the mans shoulders, he dropped his feet and let him plummet a foot as he brought him back to the platform, using the other hand to stabilize him before he let go. "Alright, alright... We've had enough fun in here," he said, turning away from him and going to reequip his armor, putting his shirt and sleeves and whatnot back on. "How do we go about getting out? We just leave?" he inquired over his shoulder, unsure if he had even stuck around to hear his question. Vincent watched carefully for any changes in the elf’s expression. He was obviously tempted to drop him just to be spiteful, but his hesitation was enough to reveal his real intentions. It was likely that the axe wielding mage could stomach dropping someone in acid...but did he have the heart to commit to the act while in the moment? No. The blond sucked in a sharp breath of air as the elf dropped his feet, though he stayed relatively well poised as he was brought back to solid ground. Once he was touching the platform, however, he swatted away Ravohyr’s hands and backed up a comfortable distance from the edge. His heart was pounding in his chest, but his sly smile returned as he glared at the elf. He figured his company could curse himself for his boring morals in his own time, and, while it was satisfying to see people be disappointed by their predictability, he was still frustrated by the whole situation. As easily as the smirk had came, an expression of cold distaste came to overtake it. The burning stare continued for several moments after the elf had finished speaking, the man keeping his chin slightly lifted. He eventually took in an agitated breath, pulling his jacket back up his shoulders and giving a single firm tug at both ends to righten it. “Don’t waste my time and start something you can’t finish,” he said icily before turn towards the door. |
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