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| Sins of the Elements IC (New and Improved!); Search and Destroy. | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 5, 2011, 2:09 pm (3,564 Views) | |
| Blue | September 26, 2011, 10:18 am Post #101 |
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The Token Australian
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“My room is out that door, down the hall and to the left Sloth. My prized blade is sheathed in its cobalt blue scabbard and sits upon a resting stand atop my chest of drawers. Believe me when I say you’d have to be asleep not to see it, if you’ll pardon the pun.” A tiny smirk lifted on the side of Pride’s face, unable to resist. Now more than ever was the absolute best time to start forming bonds of camaraderie with the members of the Brotherhood. Some would be more difficult to befriend than others, but the trick was always to start out small; agreement concerning a certain opinion, a light ice-breaking joke, a conversation topic in common. Small talk – as tedious and cliché as it was – was almost always the best method. Or so the boy had read somewhere… “As for the cars, Envy and I shall use hers to journey to the airport. You however, should catch a later flight so that it is easier for you to smuggle our weapons and equipment aboard – I assume you’ll enjoy the peace and quiet for a while before you have to mobilise. Believe me when I say that this is one of the only times we should need to do this. With any luck we’ll find a way to purchase our own methods of transporting our Brotherhood, and their respective possessions – regardless of size or shape.” Indeed, a personal cargo plane that they could call their own would be a rather welcome gift in Pride’s eyes. However, whether the Spirits would oblige was an entirely different story altogether… “I shall contact you just before we’re about to board our flight. From the time of that call, you will have two hours to pack everything that we require and get to the airport yourself. You’ll catch the earliest direct flight available as soon as you arrive. That’s all Sloth, I’m counting on you.” With that, the Little Leader turned away and burst out through the massive double doors. Surprisingly enough, he felt no doubt in Sloth’s abilities or her capacity to complete the task he set for her. After all, he’d even given her a little time to herself to relax. And for the epitome of Sloth, what would possibly be a better gift? If she screwed up, then Pride would know he was going too far to try and “make nice”. Either that or he was giving too much leeway as a Leader to his Siblings. In any case he put the thoughts behind him and strode forward, the smirk he’d displayed earlier beginning to fade away as he neared the newly dubbed “Garage”. For a Leader who supposedly knew The Void inside out, he’d never once seen the place – or the objects in it – before. It was indeed a garage, complete with all the tools and equipment that one would ever need to repair a vehicle, right down to replacement brake pads. If Pride hadn’t been so surprised by how pristine it had been made already, his jaw probably wouldn’t have dropped as low to the ground as it had when he saw the car that the Spirits had gifted him with. “It will most certainly do.” He grinned cheekily as he gazed upon the Violet Lancer, almost displaying that boyish pride over a new toy and the need to show it off to all his friends – despite the fact that they all had something rather similar as far as the concept of transport went. However, rather than go over and take a closer look, he decided it best to leave it alone for the time being – something to look forward to once they returned. This more than most things would drive him forward and give him even more motivation. Enemies would be vanquished faster and positive results would be gained quicker. Focusing on the job at hand once more, Pride turned his attention to the car he knew was Envy’s. In his opinion, that green monster was without a doubt the ugliest four-wheeled thing they’d ever called a “sports car”. It may’ve been fast, but it lacked character, style and above all else, a competent owner. Pride deliberated upon whether using his abilities on it could make it any more revolting to look at than it already was. It was true enough that rust would certainly give it more character – he could easily turn it into a relic, one piece at a time, really slowly. Heck… If nothing else, why couldn’t he do it just to watch Envy squirm? “Envy, Sloth is not coming with us. She’ll meet us in Australia, so let’s g--” Before he could finish though, the child’s eyes caught sight of the car’s door. Though the markings were slight and barely noticeable, Pride wouldn’t have been who he was if I hadn’t of noticed them. Silence took him over few momentarily, before a low chuckle resonated from his small lips. “Well, it would appear you answered my unspoken question Envy – I was just thinking about whether this pathetic car could have anything else done to it to make it look even more repulsive. You managed to pull it off, I’m impressed that you could do so much as get a laugh out of me. Well done.” The Leader spoke with sincerity, and the smirk returned rather quickly. “But on to business, shall we now get moving..?” |
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'Friends will come and go, but you're stuck with your Mates forever." | |
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| Juicesir | September 26, 2011, 2:47 pm Post #102 |
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Sexy Shoeless God of Something
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"New York City. Figure if there's anywhere we might find sin, that'd be it." Honestly, this felt wonderful. The bullshit of social situations was the worst. He'd never really been able to stand it. Just cutting to the chase was the most liberating of experiences. He didn't have to indulge in any excess words, he didn't have to fuck around with people's feelings. His only indulgence was now himself, whatever that little fucked up idea might entail. He wasn't even sure if there was anything any longer that constituted as 'himself.' But whatever. That was for others to figure out, not him. A gas station. Old, worn down, out in the middle of nowhere, but a gas station nonetheless. Good enough. "We're stopping." The tank of the van was full, but his was empty. He needed something to drink. Gluttony pulled the van over into one of the parking spots. They'd gone maybe an hour or so to get to this, and it couldn't have come any sooner. With Lust rubbing herself up and down like some prostitute he needed something to keep the edge off. Smokes, alcohol, anything to keep his mind off of things which shouldn't be thought. He went in and made a beeline for the booze. Please let there be Coors, please let there be Coors, please let there be Coors... "Bingo." Coors Light. All the bark without the bite. Get drunk and stay skinny. Excellent. He reached for a sixpack. But it was gonna be a long trip. There'd need to be plenty of alcohol for them to get where they were going. Better make it a 12 case. But 12 just seemed too limiting. Not nearly enough to get them from the heart of fucking nowhere to the grandest of all cities. He'd need at least a 24 case in order to make sure there'd be leftovers and not feel constrained. But then again, he needn't be selfish. What if the lady wanted some? How would they ever survive if they didn't have enough beer to share between them? It'd be rude to deny her the quenching taste of Coors. 36 pack it was. He stacked on two 12 packs in addition. It was cheaper to buy them in the 12 pack form instead of the 24. Beer piled high, he turned to look try and discern her location. Rather than allowing himself the time to properly find it, he just sort of gave a low-level shout out to the store at large in order so that she'd hear him. It's not like anyone was there. "You want anything?" |
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| psy | October 6, 2011, 2:50 am Post #103 |
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Addict
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• Greed • Greed followed his brother's actions, leaving the car as soon as they arrived at the airport. The serious air around him never really dissipated until they entered the terminals where there were other people preparing to fly to one location or another. They would be flying out of this place often enough that keeping a cheery demeanour was necessary for getting through all the bullshit one had to deal with at an airport while keeping his power usage to a minimum. If he could be that friendly guy that everyone at the airport knew and trusted, that would put any suspicions of their behaviour to rest. They moved unabated through the airport without much of any words between them. He exchanged a few with the ticket lady who had spoken with him before the last flight, but that was about it. Going without a carry-on kept them from being slowed at the metal detectors and soon enough they were on the plane that was to eventually, after a few stops and perhaps a transfer, get them to London, England. The plane ride was as quiet as the latter part of the car ride. In these closed quarters Brotherhood related discussion was basically impossible. Greed spent much of the flight feigning sleep while he plotted out the actions that the Culpanima could take at various stages in his early plan. There was always the possibility that they could rise up against his unification early on, and he had to have something in the works for that. But nothing yet was set in stone, he didn't even know how Wrath felt about it. Though he assumed the man would either follow him obediently or just go do whatever he wanted. Stark obedience was boring and independent arrogance was troublesome, so he hoped beyond hope that Wrath would do something in between the two extremes. After a long and relatively uninteresting flight, besides the odd crying baby, their final plane touched down in Heathrow Airport, London, England. Home of Big Ben, St. Paul's Cathedral, Wembley Stadium and other such spectacles. Though no one knew it, London had just become one of the first fronts of a war between the Brotherhood and the Culpanima. Which by right of supernatural design were far greater spectacles. Greed could taste the brewing chaos in the air as he stepped off the plane. Delicious. Together with Wrath he strolled through the airport, his gleeful, boyish smile having returned not long ago. They reclaimed their baggage and were making their way towards the large front entrance as his phone began to vibrate in his bag's side pocket. He unzipped the pocket and grabbed the phone, holding it up to his face to read the message. He shuddered with delight and grinned devilishly at the words that appeared on that small screen. “Riddle me this, brother. Two armed men dressed in dark trench-coats drive a vehicle, reported stolen three weeks ago, up to the National Westminster Bank. One enters and begins to shout nonsense about being a god. A female bank teller tries to hit the police button but is shot and killed, what colour were her eyes?” he enquired of Wrath, all the while smirking fiendishly and holding up the live news feed he had just received for both of them to see. Edited by psy, October 6, 2011, 2:51 am.
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(☞゚ヮ゚)☞ | |
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| Scarecrow | October 8, 2011, 2:54 am Post #104 |
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Visitor
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Scarecrow watched with mild amusement as Nevedita played with the feathers on her hand. It was always fun the first time. "Nevedita! We're going! Pick a form and stay with it" Scarecrow demanded. He turned to the window and leaped through it, simultaneously turning into a black hawk. “Try to be something sort of like you. That will help.” he rushed to finish talking before he lost the use of his human mouth, “Try a mag--Krie.” He flew into the sky and was joined shortly by Nevedita in her newly found magpie form. After some short tomfoolery he led them across the sky towards England. Hours later they landed in Huyton, Liverpool, at one of Scarecrow's safe houses. After landing in a dark park, they walked the few blocks to his house and entered. "Nevedita, if you're tired you can have a rest in that room over there," he indicated to the spare room. "Once you've spent my time as a demon you'll gain greater endurance. I'm going to quickly take care of something then we'll chat about the Windsor family." Nevedita nodded and trudged to her room, she was exhausted, "I'll see you soon then" she replied. Scarecrow sat at his computer and pulled out one of his many credit cards. Abruptly the printer jerked to life and spewed out two bits of paper, several minutes later it spewed out a dozen more. Scarecrow went back to the living room and sat in the darkness, allowing Nevedita some time to rest. After half an hour he roused Nevedita from her sleep and sat her at the kitchen table to discuss his plans. There was a pile of papers sitting between them. "Ok, so today was Friday, tomorrow is Saturday and on Sunday we kill the royal family. How's that sound to you?" "Sounds fine, but I have two questions first," her eyes flashed crimson and she ignored the exasperated look on Scarecrow's face, "Why do you want to kill the Royal Family? And why don't we just do it tomorrow?" Scarecrow stared at her for a moment, she didn't flinch. That's a good sign, she has a strong mind. "As you know, medieval England was famous for its superstitious society, when I was first transformed I was left alone, I discovered my powers by myself. Unfortunately this led to some issues, especially considering the temperament of society during that time. When someone saw me morphing they took me to the King who ordered him to burned him alive. Without a trial, without any questions. I was enraged, He gave his consent without caring. So they tried to to burn me. After about thirty minutes of standing in the fire, I realised that I wasn't going to die. I morphed into a flea and fled." Scarecrow grabbed some of the paper on the table and showed her some pictures of the current Royal Family and grinned evilly. "Revenge, Nevedita, is why we are going to kill the Royal Family." Nevedita sat silently, pondering his words, imagining how she would feel if she had to deal will being demonized alone, without a mentor. She decided that she would probably feel the same way. "Ok, revenge is good. It makes sense. But why not tomorrow?" Scarecrow laughed and picked up the last two papers on the table. They were tickets to the Liverpool versus Manchester United game. "We're going to Anfield for the day." |
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| Jei Ai | October 10, 2011, 10:07 am Post #105 |
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The sickly little gas station seemed to ooze the same barren dirtiness that the surrounding desert glorified. Face unsmiling, uninterested and unimpressed, Lust sauntered through the slow-moving automatic doors on her stiletto-boots, glancing about. Her gluttonous brother had been swallowed by the shelves of confectionary on his way towards a fridge across the back wall, and lost the interest of his luscious sister. She wasn’t about to follow him about like a hungry whore. The petroleum fumes that wafted through the air, aided by poor ventilation, were doing wonders for Lust, whose head cleared and lightened, her tensed and held muscles relaxing slightly. The monster inside seemed content at last, not purring but entirely settled deep within her gut. Reaching up a polished hand, Lust adjusted a well twisted black curl to the side of her fringe, long eyelashes moving slowly as she closed her eyes and breathed deeply through her nose. A nostril twitched suddenly; a particular scent had become apparent beneath the glorious poison of the petrol fumes, and after a second intake of air Lust’s eyes snapped open to look directly at the source of the smell, the monster reawakened and writhing. A boy, not yet twenty but clearly over that annoying eighteen-hurdle stood quietly behind the counter. As Lust’s seductive eyes met his, the boy swallowed deeply. The attractive woman had obviously drawn his attention well before he had drawn hers, and he seemed both nervous and strangely excited by the beautiful Tiffanie Marquisa’s sudden attention. A dangerous smile ignited across Lust’s glorious cherry-red lips, and she made her way across to the counter where the boy shifted nervously. When Pride’s away, the Sins will play… Watching the boy through her long lashes, Lust rested her hip against the counter as she sized the boy up. Her eyes flashed to a name tag pinned crookedly to the boy’s shirt – ‘Blake’ – not that names mattered in instances such as these. Reaching up a hand, Lust ran a painted finger across her porcelain collar bone, watching as the young man’s eyes followed her movement and were drawn to her breasts. Looking down momentarily, Lust made a small noise that softly left her chest and drew the boy’s attention back to her face. Somewhere behind her, Lust could hear glass bottles clinking together. “The weather, is quite ‘ot out ‘ere,” Lust smiled through her words as the monster in her gut grew excited. The boy swallowed hard again, delayed in his response but nodding in agreement all the same. Lust gave a tiny snicker across her lips. “Blake; such a ‘andsome name…” The boy seemed startled, and Lust nodded down to his name tag. Exhaling, the young man nodded and replied in a dried-out and nervous voice. “You’re French?” A charm fell over Lust, who smiled seductively in reply. Reaching up, she drew a cigarette slowly from between her bosom, thrilling at the dumbstruck way Blake’s eyes followed her every movement with hungry eyes. Bringing the cigarette to her lips, she pulled a lighter from the small stand that sat upon the counter, igniting it easily and bringing fire to her poison. Inhaling deeply through her chest, she blew the smoke slowly from her lips, still smiling playfully at the young man. “Aoi.” Slowly bringing the cigarette up once more, she inhaled deeply, seeming to draw pleasure from the experience with a small moan which only made the boy’s mouth hang open slightly. Exhaling slowly, Lust asked coyly, “Do you know what else is ‘ot out ‘ere…?” She could almost see the drool leaking from the boy’s mouth as she leaned into the counter. “Do you know what the French like to do when they’re ‘ot…? As if by gravity, as Lust leaned forward, Blake leaned in towards her as well. He was trapped – entranced by the beauty so obviously flirting with him, and it was almost unbelievable how willingly he succumbed to her small efforts and charms. Running her tongue lightly across her upper lip, she watched the boy through her eyelashes, pressing her breasts forward as the serpent pushed her forward, almost tasting victory. Blood pounded through her veins, alight with fire and the promise of a meal at last. Inching her glorious face closer, Blake shifted forward, his mouth still hanging open and his expression one of pure longing. He wanted her, and Lust felt powerful at the boy’s expressions. “You want anything?” The muffled sounds of Gluttony, paired with the distinct sound of beer-bottles clanging about inside a case, could be heard but were not truly listened to as Blake inched closer to Lust in disbelief. Grazing her teeth over her bottom lip and eyes narrowing slightly, Lust considered the question. What did she want? But the answer was right in front of her perfect face. Calling out in response to Gluttony, Lust’s husky voice – like velvet – spoke both to her brother and to the entranced boy before her who had impure thoughts dancing in his eyes. “I want… To fuck.” May Not Be Appropriate for Innocent/Young Eyes (Lustful Relations)
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![]() 'You were a happy dream in a life that's been nothing but a hellish nightmare' Tiffanie 'Lust' Marquisa, the Femme Fatale: OOC Sa’ritae Tyrundlin, the Mistress of the Earth: OOC Image by Vertify | |
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| Juicesir | October 10, 2011, 7:12 pm Post #106 |
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Sexy Shoeless God of Something
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"Mmkay, I'll be out in the car." Gluttony shrugged, lifting the packages of alcohol into a better position for transporting them. He awkwardly opened the door with his foot, the little beeper thing going off that lets you know when people enter and leave the store. He turned back for a moment. They seemed rather involved already. "Let me know when you're done." He walked casually out of the front of the store, brown bags of liquid happiness still unpaid for, but he really didn't matter. Free meal was a free meal. Gluttony approached the orange van just as another dust-bitten car was pulling in. A green minivan. Piggy husband in a Hawaiian shirt. Muffin top wife in white pants with sunglasses and a visor. They seemed to be in an argument as to directions. "I don't get why ya wanna have me asking for directions all the time, woman!" The man grumbled and managed to squeeze himself out of the driver's seat. "Cause ya never know where we're going is why, Harold! We're supposed to be in Tennessee. This looks like Nevada!" Their Texan drawls were the worst part of the exchange. "Why don't you just go in there and get a map?" "Fine! Perhaps I will!" Harold began approaching the store. "Wouldn't go in there if I were you." He pulled open the van door and slid the alcohol onto the floor of it. Harold stopped his movements while Gluttony turned around. "Oh, and why's that stranger?" He defiantly approached Gluttony, a piggy little grimace affixed to his portly little face, gleaming red with the exertion of movement. Gluttony could almost smell the bacon sizzling. The wife'd be a nice after dinner mint, a cool drink to wash away the meal. But just as they were getting to the tastiest part of their exchange, the sounds of sweet lovemaking met their ears. The couple at first didn't know what to make of it, until a gurgled scream could be heard from the convenience store. Harold and his little baked goods wife turned in terror. Gluttony just casually strode towards the shop. "That's why." He didn't bother to check if they'd gone back in the car. The van starting back up and rumbling away as fast as it's poor wheels could carry it was enough. Gluttony entered, the little beep going off again. Lust had just finished and she turned to look at her brother. Before any words could be said, he saw the boy. He wasn't dead, but he wasn't going to live for very long. The amount of blood that was leaking out of him was rather astounding, but what was more impressive was the fact that Lust had torn his throat apart with her own two hands. A little smile pulled at the right edge of his mouth, and he shook his head in mock disgust, clicking his tongue. "Lust, Lust, Lust. What a mess you've made. Now I'm gonna have to wipe all the cameras and everything." Gluttony went to work without any hesitation. Going around back of the counter, he went into the backroom. He pulled the tape from the recorder and pocketed it. Maybe she's into the whole porn thing. Hiding the tape away, he proceeded to thoroughly destroy the electronics equipment. No traces would be left of their little escapade. Surveillance down, he went back out, where Lust was sort of just standing, the boy having slumped down and now slowly fumbling to try to keep the life within him. He was still exposed even. Gluttony really couldn't care less. He went to the back and began ferrying as much alcohol and snacks as he could into the van. It was easy enough, and after a bit the van was stocked with crude liquor and cheap convenience store snacks. He went back in to stand by Lust, still standing over the mess she had made. The pair looked at the boy, eye's still wide with life, struggling to stay alive. There was a pause, a moment where they both observed. All the sounds that could be heard were that of the boy clawing at his slowly vanishing livelihood. He was like many Gluttony had seen. Back when he was the Butcher he had never let people bleed out so quick. It spoiled the meat. But on his first few tries he hadn't gotten the technique down quite so elegantly, and some of them did spoil and gurgle and die a slow, very painful death. Ben cocked his head to the side a little, drawn into the moment. Was this what he was now? Gluttony caught Lust's gaze out of the corner of his eye. She seemed to be staring somewhat expectantly at him, and even gave a small motion of looking between him and the almost dead boy. Gluttony shrugged. "What, I don't want your sloppy seconds." Gluttony turned, and left, heading to the van. He got in the driver's seat, and revved up the engine. The van, now full with gas, drink, food, and a well-pleasured woman, was ready to hit the road. "Let's blow this pop stand." And away they went, off across the desert sands to the city of New York. |
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| Drephy | October 12, 2011, 3:31 am Post #107 |
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Envy glanced by down at the hastily scrawled symbols. It doesn't look too bad....prick. She thought as she tried to smear the ink, as to make it even less legible. Though she stopped halfway through and thought ...what the fuck does that preteen know anyways? while she got into the driver's side seat and waited the brat to follow. After Pride took his seat, Envy started the Lamborghini and gripped the leather steering wheel, her hands still stained with the symbols though she made a subtle attempt to conceal them from Pride's eyes. The engine roared while she fed it gas and smirked at him. That'll make him shut the fuck up, she though, while pulling out of the garage. Now, where is this damn airport? Four tire tracks lined the drought stricken dirt. Whether they were from her siblings arriving or leaving it didn't matter. As either way they would lead to a town of sorts, and hopefully an airport. On and on she drove towards the unknown destination, occasionally looking down at the back of her hands and smiling, or hymning a very erratic melody, or glancing at her passenger to ensure he hadn't disappeared or anything of the sort. “So how exactly are we remedying this, anyways?” She asked, as if only to pass the time. Edited by Drephy, October 13, 2011, 5:24 am.
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| Drephy | October 12, 2011, 3:32 am Post #108 |
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((Chwesongnida, double post.))
Edited by Drephy, October 12, 2011, 3:39 am.
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| ravenroses | October 13, 2011, 3:42 am Post #109 |
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Wrath almost blindly followed his brother through the motions of the airport. It was tedious going through the process of buying tickets, going through security and actually boarding the plane. As they walked through, he could feel himself getting more and more tired. By the time he actually sat in his seat, he was ready to sleep through the flight itself. Through half-slitted eyes, he peered over at Greed. It seemed he had nothing to say for a change. He was okay with that and shut his eyes completely. He felt the rumbled of the plane as it rose higher and higher into the sky. He was almost completely asleep. Wrath could feel he was walking that line between asleep and awake when a cry came out a few rows back. He squeezed his eyes tightly and his grip tightened on the armrest. The warmth was there, deep inside, and stirring rapidly. It wanted him to kill everyone on this plane. His bats were in the bag he didn't have on him. He wondered if Greed had his knife and if he'd be able to use it. Whoever the child was with got it to shut its mouth. Wrath was still on edge. That heat wanted to come up and out in a loud roar. He didn't release his grip on the armrest but his facial features relaxed. After some time of concentrating on the heat, he managed to fall asleep within it. As soon as the plane touched the ground, his eyes flew open. They flashed red as Wrath tried to figure out where he was for a moment. London, right, he thought to himself. His hands were slightly stiff as he pried his fingers from the armrest. Little dents had formed where his fingers pressed in over the course of the flight. He couldn't remember what he dreamed about or had seen, but it must have gotten to him along the way. As he made his way off the plane and into the airport, he bent, twisted, pulled at and cracked his fingers. Once he could do nothing more to them, he shook his hands out to shake off any lingering aches. When the brothers picked up their bags, he was happy to hear and feel the bats still inside. The familiar weight allowed him to settle in and watch those around him. Something could happen at anytime here, just like anywhere else. He wanted to stay as uninterested as possible though so as not to wind himself up again. That was when Greed decided to flash his phone in his face. He reached his hand up to move the thing away so he could actually read the words. At least Greed wasn't talking total nonsense for a change. "Eye color's irrelevant in this situation," he said off-hand as he scanned the feed. He said nothing more on it because he wasn't about to start with Greed's games. As he read the feed, there wasn't much more to get out of it. Greed had basically summed it up for him with his riddle. Wrath looked up and out over the crowd of people entering and leaving the airport. He shifted the duffel bag on his shoulder, trying to think. "Interesting news," he started saying, still watching the people. Then he looked back to his brother, "Do you think that's where we need to start or do you have other plans in mind?" He was trying to keep a calm, neutral tone. Taking any other tone might set Greed off on a path of annoyance. That would be no way to start this trip. |
| You don't only belong to yourself, you know. I doubt there is a single person in this world that belongs only to himself. When someone makes a connection there is always something shared. And so people will never be completely free. It's that which brings out fun, and sadness and love. | |
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| akaiyu485 | October 31, 2011, 2:26 pm Post #110 |
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*Custom User Title*
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Sloth’s dreamy happiness, being the thought of the hour off she could take when she finished the assignment, had her floating across the mansion, through prides room, taking the sword, and taking the case back to her room. The moment she opened the case, reality came back, and with it, the reality of work. From that moment, she felt it; an actual physical weight dragging on her back and chest, but most of all, within her mind. Every movement, every thought felt painful and laboured. It would be so easy to just throw it off and think of it later. But Sloth was well aware that membership to the sins was lifetime long, probably longer; the conflict failure would create was not worth her efforts, maybe wrath’s, but not hers. Ok, she thought to herself, we have strategies for this; break the task down to minimize how much activity we’re doing at once. Then it’s over in small, manageable steps, and the worst of it, the thinking, will be over. Sloth spent a thorough twenty minutes thinking of how she could disguise the sword, and take a plane, the quickest mode of transport over, before she realised she was using the task as procrastination; it would never make it past any respectable airport security. Not even disguised as a cross-beamed walking stick. That much was clear. It would take some perverse trickery to get it in, and onto a plane. And as much as Pride had deliberately left the time limit open, Sloth was certain that he would not appreciate charging into battle without his little emblem while she took a two week cruise, especially if Pride wanted to make it all about symbols and publicity. It was with exaggerated difficulty that Sloth pulled herself away from that idea, and set her mind to beating the airport system. From the outset, she would see that this was a meaner task than Pride had realised; it required so very much thinking. She decided she’d better go and do her research. Alone she wandered the House, if you could call it that, looking for a computer. Eventually, she found Greed’s room, and decided she’d hit the jackpot. Aware of his immense hacking skills, a lethargic excitement worked its way through sloth; if she could get one of his hacking programs open, she might just be able to make her way through the airport into a piece of cake. The prospect of circumventing hours of careful planning and double checking had Sloth working at her maximum capacity… for all of 30 seconds, until she opened the programs and realised they required code, and years of practice far outside the limits of her perpetually dulled condition. After that, her keen interest dulled considerably, as did her working pace. After a few hours of trawling the internet, all she had to aid her was the people the airport commissioned for technical emergencies, the next flights to Australia, and the location of the nearest hospital to the airport. Sighing, Sloth switched off the monitor for a moment. It was growing to be a bit much. Now she had the added imperative of catching up to the others as soon as possible. What had been, she was sure, a quick and easy job, that was meant to keep her happy and delighted in its ease, was simply draining her. With every pulse of blood to her head, she felt the gears of her brain grinding closer and closer to a halt, her mind desiring to slip into sleep as much as into daydreams. And without even meaning to, Sloth was gone. Even in her sleep though, Sloth found little rest. How, how, how? The question continued to revolve around her brain. And then far too soon, it was over; she woke as her numb body began to slip out of the chair. This was too much, Sloth decided as she sat back up. She needed to hurry up and earn herself a substantial break before it claimed her and she was in the real peril of messing up the ideal situation almost within her grasp. Bugger this, it was time to play it by ear. It even made sense, she thought, as she made her way back to her bedroom to gather her things; the least amount of thinking was playing to her strengths, and if Sloth’s indications were anything to go by, secrecy wasn’t going to be a consideration of the Sinanima for all that much longer anyway. Thus, it was virtually unarmed that Sloth made her way to the airport in her stolen vehicle, her only real weapon the sack of poisons disguised as toiletries in her “hand luggage”. It was almost luggage free that Sloth found herself effortlessly gliding through airport security; she got a full 15 minutes of mindless bliss waiting in those queues. But it wouldn’t be long, she knew, before she needed a fully fledged rest, an eyelids down out of body experience. Thankfully, the rest of the plan relied on being over as quickly as possible. When Sloth arrived in the boarding and departure lounges, she immediately cast around for the first arriving crowd, and followed them back to the plane. She waited until the stragglers began to appear, before breaking into a run, and began pushing through them pack onto the plane, letting panic and worry colour her voice. Speeding her breathing, and drawing upon emotion, she was almost in tears by the time she had made her way back up the hall to the plane’s cabin. She located her victim, an airhostess, helping the last of the other passengers off the plane. “Excuse me, excuse me ma’am,” Sloth said, voice faltering, clearly deeply upset, “I’m sorry, I just got off this plane, and I can’t find my handbag anywhere. I think it’s still here. Will you help me look for it?” “Of course.” Said the hostess with a forced smile that was not entirely unsuspecting. She doesn’t recognise me, thought Sloth. Your suspicion is justified ma’am. Too bad you can’t do anything about it. “Can I just see your boarding past first?” Said the hostess. Well played, thought Sloth, but far too easy to handle. “It’s in the bag.” “Oh. Well where were you sitting?” “Row 30. Not far from the wing.” A quick google on the common plane had served Sloth well. “Very well. Follow me please.” The Hostess turned to walk down the aisle. “Oh thank you so much” Sloth, moving quicker than she herself had thought possible, checked over her shoulder, to make sure the colleague wasn’t paying attention. Instead he met Sloth’s gaze. Damn. Now she looked suspicious, and was incapable of tripping the hostess up. Didn’t matter, the opportunity would soon arise. And it did, as the airhostess bend over row 31. Sloth raised her foot, and swept it back on the Airhostess’s ankles. Down she went. “Are you alright?” Sloth asked worriedly, as she then proceeded to jab a syringe in the shape of a click pen, poison where the ink should be, into the airhostess’s shoulder. It was what Sloth had been most worried about. But that particular implement had been specially designed for just that purpose. Although, she probably shouldn't have bothered, each of her poison dipped fingernails would do the job just fine. “Ma’am!? Hey, can I get some help please? Help! This lady’s just fainted!” “What’s going on?” Said the airhostess’s partner, “Oh geez, crap, Mel, Mel! Help me out here!” The other two members of the cabin crew bustled over quickly, and began to drag their colleague over to the rest area. The remaining attendance staff distracted, Sloth whipped out her phone. This, she decided, could easily go two ways. On the outset, she would go ahead with having the matinence man smuggle the sword in for her, but perhaps, she thought, she could steal the plane outright; it would save so much trouble of having to sabotage the plane into Australia, so that she could get out of that airport. Of course, she couldn’t fly the thing, but she was fairly sure she could find someone she could coerce into doing it. It was exceedingly lazy and irresponsible of her, she had to admit, but after she hung up, she found the potential of exploring the alternative far too tempting, each heart beat bringing greater desire for sleep, both in her mind and in her body. This was the perfect moment for the others to take over. And then she could have her sweet release. “Hello, Pride? I understand you’re probably in Australia by now, but you know how the spirits neglected to give us a plane? Well, If you’ve ever wanted to start your own, private collection…” |
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[imgurl=http://robot6.comicbookresources.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/korra-excerpt.jpg]http://robot6.comicbookresources.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/korra-excerpt.jpg[/imgurl] "It might not even be all that good!" "Polar bear dog. Your argument is invalid." | |
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| akaiyu485 | November 2, 2011, 1:23 am Post #111 |
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*Custom User Title*
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A football game? Thought Nevedita. What. The. F***. Her insides were again ranting at her, despite her management to largely suppress them This guy, this demon, had practically coerced her into a supernatural war, risking her immortal soul, was probably feeding her a pile of bullshit about medieval times and the royal family, and now wanted a bonding session? Which, non-suspiciously enough, included the team she’d followed since she was eight? Yeah, sure thing Sparky. “Look, I don’t know what sort of leadership classes they give in the underworld, and it’s been a long time since you’ve had actual human contact, and I appreciate the gesture,” Nevedita started, her eyebrows doing a Mexican wave of temporarily expressed incredulity, “but typically, when we humans want to make friends, we base it on mutual respect and trust.” “Oh come on,” Said Scarecrow, rolling his eyes. “What more do you want?" “NO! Don’t start! Rhetorical question!” He said, quickly defending himself from tirade Nevedita had drawn breath to unleash. “But seriously, you could have chosen to die, and you could have chosen not to demonise. Honestly, I just gave you a frontage by going through me; I’ve actually saved you a Sheet-load of underworld bureaucracy and pain. And beyond that, this is something that’s actually in your best interets; how would you feel about being on the bottom end of this coup?” Nevedita sighed, shrugged and nodded, silently conceding her point. To be fair, he did have one. “Thank you. Now, can we enjoy a bit of honest, regulated brutality, or not?” “That depends,” Said Nevedita, recovering slowly with her usual sarcastic form, “Are we in good seats for watching the players or the spectators?” At that, Scarecow smirked, one eyebrow raised. Will you ever trust me? It asked. If I told you, would you take my word for it? Her face replied. It was going to be a weird, trustless relationship, they both acknowledged, but both might as well make it a working one. "So," Nevedita said, almost conversationally as they walked out in their respective foot ball colours, "Do I get to know the game play on our high-treason conspiracy yet, or is that for after the game?" Edited by akaiyu485, November 2, 2011, 1:25 am.
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[imgurl=http://robot6.comicbookresources.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/korra-excerpt.jpg]http://robot6.comicbookresources.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/korra-excerpt.jpg[/imgurl] "It might not even be all that good!" "Polar bear dog. Your argument is invalid." | |
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| Blue | November 2, 2011, 7:22 am Post #112 |
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The Token Australian
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"Leave the plane where it is when you get here. We'll be here a while. If need be, we can take one home with us on the way back to the U.S." "Ok, see you soon." 23 HOURS LATER Pride pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd been expecting to wait at the airport for two, maybe three hours at the most. But another 18 hours? As Sloth entered the "Arrivals" area of Sydney's Airport, his expression curled up into a thankful smile. Clutched in her hand, was his blade in all it's glory. It was unscratched and looked no different than it had when he'd parted ways from it twenty four hours earlier. What also caught the boy's eye was that the woman he'd left alone was dressed in a flight attendant's uniform. Just above her right breast was a name tag that read "Melinda". No one else followed her out, which made the boy confident that he'd chosen her to perform the task over Envy. "Have trouble finding the place?" he joked lightly. "You've done well, Sloth. I am most impressed." On-lookers were shocked as the child took the blade from his older sister, mostly at the fact that she'd just let him have it. But they didn't matter, no one did in that moment. As far as Pride knew, it was just him and the blade in the airport. He stared at it like a kid would stare at a new toy. Incredibly anxious to unsheath it and inspect for any subtle damage that may've been caused in handling, the Leader lifted his head up to the two women and nodded. "Time for us to leave. Envy, you'll be carrying the bags. I don't think people would appreciate seeing a ten year old boy struggling to hold the weight of a heavy bag or suitcase. In addition, I also believe that Sloth has done her fair share of the work, for now..." He held back a smirk, replacing it with a mocking grin that filled his features. "Thanks big sis'! You're the best ever!" And with that, the boy laughed as he ran towards the airport exit. They would be well on their way soon enough. HALF AN HOUR LATER Their cab pulled up at the Shangri-La Hotel, the city streets bustling with people. It'd been quite a long time since the boy had found himself in such a place. The three of them ventured inside and Sloth checked them in. As soon as they reached their room on the 23rd floor, Pride went to work. "Envy, I need you to go downstairs and fetch today's local newspaper. When you've done that, scan for anything that might give us a lead. Even if it seems like nothing, I wanna hear about it." He loved bossing that particular sibling around - she didn't know her place nearly well enough. "Sloth, I need you watching the television for the same reasons. If anything comes up, notify me at once. I'll be meditating in the bedroom, trying to contact the Spirits and figuring out our first point of action should the need arise this quickly." It wasn't likely, but one could never be too prepared. The enemy was moving, whether they liked it or not, and soon enough they'd find trouble. "Before you both start, one last thing: We should be expecting phone calls from New York and London any time now. They should call me specifically, but if either of you receive a call from the rest of our sibings, I want your phone immediately. Now, get to work - there is much to be done." A familiar headache began to resonate deep within Pride's mind. Souba still clutched tightly in his grasp, he entered the other room and shut the door behind him. Edited by Blue, November 6, 2011, 11:51 pm.
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'Friends will come and go, but you're stuck with your Mates forever." | |
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| Juicesir | November 19, 2011, 7:05 pm Post #113 |
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Sexy Shoeless God of Something
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"I forgot how shitty this town was." As they came out of the Holland Tunnel, the memories came flooding back. At one point not so long ago, this had been his city. The Center of the Universe. His school was less than 25 blocks from where they'd just come out of, and Foley Park wasn't even that much further. Ben went with the traffic coming out of the Tunnel and got on Canal St. headed east. It'd been a long ride, but they'd made better time than Ben had expected. the minor holdup in Plankinton had been the largest issue on their ride. Gluttony had driven through the night. He didn't really need sleep. None of them did. So he drove, and they made good time. And now, they were in New York, coming around St. John's Park and heading over to Foley Square. It was a gut reaction, just an instinct. In all points of fact, Ben followed a certain sense of irony. If there was one place they might find lawlessness, it would certain to be around here. After driving for a bit, he made the orange van's way over to Thomas Paine Park. Luckily, there was a spot for them to park alongside of it, and he stopped the engine. Ben took a moment to look out at the surroundings. He inhaled the stale van air, and breathed out. With Lust's smoking the van had practically been a hotbox for her nicotine addiction, re-filtering the same dank stink through and through. It was consumption, and it stayed there. And Ben just breathed it in. "We're here." And he got out, looking about at the area. |
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| Jei Ai | November 20, 2011, 5:55 am Post #114 |
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Member
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Heat. Not that marvellous, throbbing heat that pours over and out of the body that finds itself entwined around another beating soul. And not the comforting warmth that kissed the lips from the depths of a nicotine addiction. That sickly, sticky heat that covered the desert and lit up of the world beyond a white glow: that kind of heat. It made Lust sick to the core just to remember it. The drive had been long, bumpy and, for lack of a better word, raw. Lungs filled and bloodstream pounding with poison from cigarettes and alcohol, the burlesque queen had barely survived the journey that was so unlike the dark nights she thrived in at home. Indeed, Lust had felt that Paris was worlds away from this new land. Luxury, power and fame had slipped from her polished fingers in such a short amount of time, along with her control over that once quiet inner serpent that roared for sex, sex and more sex. It was hard to believe only three days ago she’d held the richest man in Italy under her hands and inside her hips as they’d rolled across her wealthy client, biting her lip in feigned pleasure and taking the fumbled groping of her paying partner with a coy smile. The crossing from the Void to eastern coast had been thoroughly depressing for the homesick woman. But their final destination almost made her moan. The sun had fallen from the sky as Gluttony stepped out of the smoke-filled van. “We’re here,” he offered, taking the lead and looking about with nostalgia pulling at his face. As the night settled over the city, Lust peered out of the unclean and smog-covered window before stepping out of the van to join her brother. Tall towers littered the horizon around her, hiding the ocean, the desert, the forest – anything and everything natural. Even the park they stood in held a sense of forcefulness, as if its erection served only to point out that the city lacked any evidence of the natural world, and the only parcels of greenery left had been put there by people, almost like it had been granted permission to be here. The streets were bustling, and all around short skirts, swearing, cleavage and pants worn miles too low caught the eye. Elegance, sophistication and indeed public morals seemed to be slightly askew if not entirely missing from the streets, as distant siren played the background music for a verbal assault between two groups of young people nearby. As if to top the picture off, movement under a nearby shrub caught the fierce red eyes of the scarlet woman, and she looked in time to see a dirt-covered man roll over under torn sheets and newspaper. Smiling, Lust’s eyes began to dance with excitement. “Oui,” she offered quietly in return to Gluttony. “We are zertainly ‘ere…” The night was certainly cooler, and brought comfort to the nocturnal immortal. Above no stars could be seen through the pollution of the city, and a black expanse seemed to cover the sky. Even in the park, the noise of the city was thrumming in its constant sleeplessness. Turning in a tight circle, Lust looked about once more, taking everything in. This was truly a place of sin, and one they would undoubtedly find their purpose within. But more importantly for Lust, it held promise of a glorious Underworld, filled to the brim with corruption, money and dirty sex. She felt more at home here than she had since landing in the United States. Bubbles of excitement rose from the monster inside her gut and she slammed the van door shut with two hands before joining the side of her brother. The unfamiliar city was not daunting, and Lust was fairly certain she could find her own way if need be. But the certainty with which Gluttony had driven, and the lines of familiarity that lightly creased his face, told Lust life could be simpler if she followed her brother; he clearly knew his way around better than she did. For now. Ignoring some jeers and wolf-whistles from across the way, Lust reached for another cigarette and lit it with a sharp exhale as soon as it was fitted inside her mahogany holder. The excited inner-monster settled down ever so slightly. Taking a long, deep breath, she waited to see if Gluttony would offer any sort of direction or plan. The pair had bonded little – if at all – during their long trip. It struck no chord with Lust, who had not felt close to any being, mortal or immortal, since her mother’s death years ago in a lifetime that was no longer relevant to the Sin of Seduction. And after scrapping him from the list of ‘people she most wanted to fuck’, down to ‘people she would fuck should the chance arise’, he held much less interest for her than he had in the Void. Still, they were siblings now, and she felt a sort of comradeship with the disturbed and ravenous man who shared a very similar fate to her own: eternal hunger for the flesh. Allowing the smoke to leak from behind her upper lip, Lust watched Gluttony for a long minute, making sure he was aware of her staring. Unsure what to make of her gluttonous brother, she tried to take him in a second time. What was playing through that disastrous little mind of his? So accustomed to reading the desires and thoughts of men, Lust was only slightly frustrated by her inability to understand her brothers, in particularly Gluttony. They weren’t like most men. They were changed. What had he once wanted, when he was a true man? Lust’s brow creased only slightly before she dismissed the irritating problem, and returned to her superior air and expressionless face. Folding one arm across her torso under her breasts, and leaving her other hand held upwards and at the ready with burning cigarette holder in hand, Lust finally pressed her brother. “W’ere do we go from ‘ere, Gluttony?” |
![]() 'You were a happy dream in a life that's been nothing but a hellish nightmare' Tiffanie 'Lust' Marquisa, the Femme Fatale: OOC Sa’ritae Tyrundlin, the Mistress of the Earth: OOC Image by Vertify | |
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| Scarecrow | December 6, 2011, 1:03 am Post #115 |
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Visitor
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The game was big, and wild. Nevedita caused riots in the Manchester United part of the stadium whilst Scarecrow sat back and enjoyed both shows. Liverpool won the match and Nevedita got to exercise her demon powers. It was a win win and Scarecrow was extremely happy with how the exercise went. Nevedita babbled excitedly about her efforts for the entire trip home but Scarecrow was in such a good mood he hardly cared anymore. Once they were inside he sat her down and pulled out a series of blueprints. He outlined the plan to Nevedita and spent a few hours teaching her the necessary techniques. The two of them would be separating and Scarecrow wanted to make sure her first solo mission was a success. After he was confident in her abilities he morphed into a bird and flew to the airport. He had a flight booked to arrive in Australia in the next day. BY the time he reached their, Nevedita's job should have been finished and played all over the news. It would be then that he would finish his plan with a flourish. 26 Hours Later Queen Elizabeth II sat in her hotel room with her husband, their eyes glued to the screen. Indeed theirs were not the only eyes in the country watching the news story, and unbeknownst to them theirs weren't the only eyes in the room watching it. A series of images played across the screen whilst a reporter from London gave out the details in all their horrific glory. The reporter was standing outside Buckingham Palace, and if you looked past him to the building itself you could see the heads of the royal family on pikes that had been hammered into the side of the wall. Appallingly enough, this was merely a eye catching sight which then drew the attention to the 12 foot high message written in blood across the side of the wall. YOU'RE PRIDE CAUSED THIS TO HAPPEN... BUT ITS NOT OVER YET As the reporter finished his segment the Queen looked ill with horror. Her guards had been posted outside the room and no-one was to enter without the Queen's own permission. This false sense of security made Scarecrow's sense of accomplishment feel much higher than he was expecting. The look of shock on the face of the Queen when he appeared in front of her was a look that Scarecrow would never forget. King Phillip attempted to attack Scarecrow but where a fitter man would have failed the King failed even more so. With a flick of his wrist Scarecrow sent the old King flying into the wall. He smiled evilly as he heard something crack. Turning his attention from the prone King to the now cowering Queen Scarecrow let out a laugh. "How I've waited for this day" he said as the Queen tried to back away, "your predecessors sent me to death without a trial... and now, I'll exact that same punishment on you. I trust you enjoyed the work of my apprentice? She certainly did make a mess of the lovely palace of yours. It seems to me that it's only fitting that I finish the job here and now." He drew a long blade from his pocket. It was made of black obsidian and was sharper than any other blade known to man. He lunged at the Queen and grabbed her by the throat. As careful as a surgeon would be he traced a fine line down the side of the Queen's face. Once he was done he let her fall to the ground. She was gasping for air and wincing in pain but she still remained a little defiant. It was clear she thought she could bargain her way out of this situation. "What do you want from me? I can give you land, money, titles, anything. Name your price." Scarecrow threw back his head and laughed. "I've already told you, I'm here to exact my revenge. The only thing I want you to do your Majesty, is die." Moving quicker than any human he pinned the Queen face down on the floor and cut open the back of her dress. Pinning her neck and thighs with his knees he began to carve a message into her back. It only took a few letters before the Queen began to scream for help, but nobody came, indeed nobody heard a thing due the fact that the guards were lying in a pool of their own blood, their throats revealing a gruesome red smile that left no room for imagination as to how they died. The Queen's screams became more frantic and panicked as Scarecrow dug his knife in and out of her skin, reveling in the blood that was spilling over her back. Once he was finished the Queen looked to be in shock, Scarecrow was not the merciful type, especially when he nothing to gain from it. He rolled her over and pulled her arm out of its socket. He then held he limp arm in front oh her while he sawed through her wrist. The blood that spurted from the amputation made Scarecrow grin. Running the knife up the arm he slit the limb open like a sausage. The Queen promptly passed out at this point but it didn't stop Scarecrow from mutilating the rest of her body. Once he was satisfied he drove a pike through the queen leaving her hanging from the wall with the message on her back shown to the world. Scarecrow quickly got to work on the King, hacking him up and spreading his body parts down the hallway to present a trail to the room. Once he was finished he morphed and flew off into the sun. 30 Minutes Later Scarecrow was sitting in his hotel room when the trail of body parts was found. The trail was quickly followed and the corpses of the two guards were found, their red smile still warm. The door was opened and the sight of blood was astounding. It was like the walls had been painted in it. Moving cautiously they entered the living room and saw the body of the Queen hanging from the pike in the wall. The message carved on her back was plain to see. You're Move. Edited by Scarecrow, December 6, 2011, 1:05 am.
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| That Butler | January 30, 2012, 3:57 am Post #116 |
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Bad Jew
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This roleplay is closed due to inactivity or by request of the Game Master. Please contact one of the Roleplaying Moderators to have it reinstated.
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5:49 PM Jul 13