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| "Here and There" | ||
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 21 2014, 08:32 PM (1,015 Views) | ||
| Spunky Misunderstood Genius | Jun 4 2014, 06:48 AM Post #16 | |
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Slowly a door opened from the inside. The door was open quite wide before a man came out of the room the door led to. The man looked back into the room then slowly and gently closed the door behind him. The man held onto the door knob as if he rather not leave, but eventually he let go and made his way down the hall. There was haste in the man’s walk, he made it down the long hall in a jiffy, made a right, then a left, and kept walking until he saw stairs that led down. The man let out a sigh of relief as he removed his face mask, on his way down those stairs. He stuffed the mask into his teal scrubs by the time he got off the stairs. The man had a matching teal bandana worn on his head to prevent hair from falling down, and underneath his scrubs a black bodysuit could be clearly seen, not that anyone in the decently crowded common room of the inn cared or grew suspicious of it though. Besides the common room, which seemed more like a bar than anything else with merry people drinking, there was the dining area, where there were people merrily pigging out. These people, these tenants of the inn were clearly not natives, else they would be mourning. The man bit back negative feelings toward these people and tenants he considered foreigners, who mocked the way of the natives and their mourning. He didn’t come down to see them, he came down to find the knight. The man searched both the common room and the dining area until he found the knight. This was a bit harder than the man thought it would be but when he did notice the knight he wanted to beat himself up for it, “Of course that’s where he would be.” The man said to himself as he navigated through the crowd to reach the knight. The first thing that came out of the man’s mouth was a joke about the common room/dining area and the merry people who filled it to the knight. The man laughed at his own joke, which dispelled into a smile and then finally a relaxed calm face. “Follow me.” The man told the knight, which the man had no doubts he would, after all, he was the guy that saved his friend life. The man led the knight to the bar of the common room, through there was only one stool available the man removed another, who sat next to the empty stool, of their seat without much avail or dismay caused to them. “Sit.” The man told the knight. The man raised his hand to gain the attention of the bartender, “A drink for me and my friend here.” Ordered the man, which could be refused by the knight if he so choose. It was well into the day, dark outside, there was little time left in the day and the man’s patience seemed short yet endless. The bartender returned shortly with the drink(s). The man took the glass into his hands and held it up to his face at eye length. He rotated the glass with his hands as he stared into it as if it were a looking glass or a magic ball. Since the joke, if the knight had asked any question, the man was sure not to answer, but the man seemed to expect the knight answer all his. “Do you know of the history of the island?” the man asked and then waited for a response. “Do you know what happen in the last few years on this island? Or the turmoil this island is in right now?” again, the man waited for a response. The man was quite cryptic or ambiguous, in the way he was acting since he took Malachi from the knight and in the questions he asked of the knight. True to the nature of a doctor, the man was trying to dissect the knight’s knowledge. |
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| ♥ Emoisum | Jun 4 2014, 02:43 PM Post #17 | |
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There wasn't a hint of sound from the knight as the apparent doctor had asked for Samuel to accompany him. Up from where he sat, his footsteps followed the man's. they didn't wander off too far and arrived at the bar in the inn - they approached said bar's counter and the doctor pulled a seat up for Samuel to join him. Still, he remained silent as the man had gestured for the bartender to bring them some ale - Samuel wasn't much of a drinking man himself but it'd be disrespectful to the doctor if he hadn't accepted it. When the bartender had returned and the glass was placed before him, Samuel's hand clasped around it - but he didn't pick it up just yet. He, like the man next to him, took a moment to stare into it - look it over, for whatever reason. It didn't last forever, though, as Samuel would look to the man once before he would bring the rim of the glass to his lips and tilt it back take a gentle sip from it - mostly what had remained of the foam. But the man hadn't taken a drink himself, and instead decided to ask Samuel a question - a question that the doctor, most likely already knew, that Samuel didn't have an actual answer for, but was looking for the knight to speak anyway as even after the question had left him, he stayed silent and was giving Hain room to respond. To remain respectful, "I can't say that I do." -- he responded with honesty, "I only just arrived - and all this happened." -- after he finished he took another tilt of the glass, though fortunately this time around, it was more of the actual drink, itself. Hain wasn't entierly sure on what the man was seeking out in answers from him. Of course having no prior knowledge other than it's name, the island held no meaning to Samuel, in the slightest. He had only arrived and likely didn't intend on staying too long - especially after what had happened with the samurai, which took place mere moments only after having step foot on the island. On top of everything else, he'd likely see Malachi through and then make sure to keep this place, only as a memory. "Is there something important enough that, even, a wanderer like myself, should know?" -- he didn't say exactly what he had wanted - or rather, asked what he had wanted. He wanted to know why he felt the sudden urge to fight back - to swing his blade without reason. But hopefully, being as cryptic as the doctor himself, Samuel could lead to an answer - or, the more likely possibility, he'll have more questions thrown his way. |
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| Spunky Misunderstood Genius | Jun 4 2014, 06:46 PM Post #18 | |
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The knight got an eyebrow raise out of the man. Just before, the man had his full attention to the glass he rotated in his hands, now, now he felt the need to look into the knight’s eyes. The man wondered if the knight was a wanderer by choice, as he seemed quite the dispassionate adventurer, or maybe his interest was yet to be fancied. “Why, the answer to all your questions” the man answered first with the utmost certainty as if his answer was the one and only answer to what he thought was a rhetorical question from the knight. Nevertheless, the knight was right, there was something more specific, something that the man wanted the knight to know, something the knight ought not to know. With the slightest of smiles, the man went back to staring into the glass he never stopped rotating in his hand. “To make a long story short, this island has been the subject of abuse by pirate haki users throughout the years,” the man eyes drifted from the glass to the knight after the word haki left his mouth, he was curious to see what sort of reaction the knight would have to hearing the word “haki”, his gaze returned the glass after. “One in particular, who we no longer mention by name because that heartless bastard seems to come back every once in a while to get more kicks out of this island and its people, threw this island into the biggest political turmoil it has seen yet when he got the head mourner killed. The head mourner is like a prime minister or I guess you can say the king of this island. So there should not be any surprise that there are and have been many people gunning for that position ever since. Haha, I guess you can say the head mourner was one person no mourner has ever wasted time mourning over. Heh, anyways. Over the years one man in particular has risen far above the rest, and with today’s events,” the man stopped his story to chug down his drink. The man’s hand was clenched around the empty glass, the veins that made itself apparent in both his temple and his hands, gave away his anger, yet unlike some men he was able to slowly bring down his glass and place it on the bar gently. It was something odd to notice about the man, especially with the sounds of arguing and bottle smashing going on in the background, maybe the man was just too sober. “The man I speak of, his name is Albert. He is a Monsieur. And by tomorrow morning Monsieur Albert would have finally made his dream a reality. Tomorrow, in front of everyone here in little ole’ Weeping Summit, he will be declared the new head mourner.” Though the man was still not finish he stopped again. He looked around for the bartender before raising his hand to draw his attention. “Another round for me and my friend here” the man ordered. The man kept quiet until the bartender returned with the drinks, to which the man immediately chugged down. The man face expression turned to one of disgust as the drink he chugged went down his throat, burning it as if he had drunken acid. “I didn't order hard liquor” the man growled at the bartender. The bartender apologized but the man, instead of accepting it, flipped the bartender the finger. “Now. Where were we? Ah yes, Monsieur Albert. This island’s new head mourner.” Careless, fearless, or maybe just plain stupid, the man seemed like he was spilling top secret information to the knight, in the open and crowded common room of the inn. With no wavering in his eyes, and no hesitation in his voice the man continued to speak. “And his first order of business, is to close off all the ports and block access to the docks. No non mourner is to leave the island, no, mourners too, no one is allowed to leave the island. Monsieur Albert wants to make sure that no one until the day he passes on will be able to take the title and position of head mourner from him.” The man stopped talking to let what he said and the hints he gave to sink in for the knight. The bartender came back with another glass of drinks, to which the man took a swig from before continuing. “Can you guess how one becomes head mourner?” The man wanted to the knight to put it all together, and after a minute he answered his own question. “By mourning for more deaths, more passionately than any other mourner.” The man reached into his scrub and pulled out a rolled up newspaper. He straighten the paper using the edge of the bar then placed it on the bar in front of the knight. The newspaper was placed front page up, and seemed to be local. A picture of someone on his knees, who looked like they rolled out of bed and half-assed their morning ritual, praying covered the majority of the front page. It had a catchy title that proved what the man said was true about how one would go about obtaining the position and title of head mourner, and it also had a synopsis at the corner of the picture. Neither the picture, title, nor synopsis showed/mention anything of flaming arrows or arrows in general. “When he publicly announces the closure of the ports and blocking of docks, you can kiss any thoughts about you and your friend getting off this island.” The man added with a tone that said the situation for the knight and his friend was already helpless as is. The man was finally silent again, and ready to answer any questions the knight may have for him. In the room the man left Malachi in, Malachi turned in his bed, uncontrollably. The bed, the bandages, and Malachi himself was drenched in sweat. Malachi was writhing in the bed uncontrollably from the pain, and the endless nightmare playing over and over in his head, which Malachi slipped in and out of since the man left. The times when Malachi was awake, he felt groggy and in a mental daze. Malachi fought to stay awake, but his body did not comply. Despite it all, Malachi started repeating what he said as he crawled away from Samuel earlier, “My name is Malachi. Son of the marine heroes Mr. Marruko and Mrs. Amadis-Marruko. I will save the person who raised me from birth, I will save my fishman father. I will save you father…” Edited by Spunky Misunderstood Genius, Jun 5 2014, 09:13 AM.
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| ♥ Emoisum | Jun 6 2014, 01:45 PM Post #19 | |
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The knight had done nothing but listen intently to anything and everything the man had to say - that and drink the alcoholic beverages that had been tossed his way. He had taken a hold of Samuel's curiosity and he couldn't find it in himself to respond, even when the doctor had fallen silent for mere seconds to see if the knight had anything to say. At the mention of Haki, the Knight knew of the mysterious power that was the embodiment of one's spirit and willpower, but he himself had not achieved such. The man continued to speak as the knight took another tilt of the glass, having finished it off and placing the emptiness back onto the counter. Long-winded the man was, what with having a lot to say and wanting to inform the knight of any and all information he had about the island - he wanted Samuel to be well informed. He mentioned someone by the name of Albert being named the new head mourner, after telling him how one actually became such. Another round was ordered for the two men, and the doctor chugged it almost as soon as it had hit the counter - at the mention of it being hard liquor, Samuel didn't even bother taking the drink as he wasn't in the mood - not to be disrespectful, but as the man had stated, it wasn't what he had ordered. He had said 'another' round - which should have meant another round of their first order. There was a cock of the brow from Samuel when the doctor had flipped the bird to the bartender - although it would be in the norm for the brow to lower itself as the man would continue, but it remained when it was said that this 'Albert' character would be closing the ports and not allowing for anyone to leave, not even those who weren't native to the island; which would ultimately mean that Samuel would be able to leave unless he were to leave today or make an attempt to, as he wasn't even sure any ships remained at the docks after what had happened with the explosion. It lowered, but Samuel's eyes told another story as the seemed to take a glare to them - his eyes barely winced, but noticeably enough. Those same eyes watched as the doctor retrieved a newspaper from his own person and rolled it out on the counter for Samuel to look it over. None of what it had upon it was nothing more than what the doctor had spoke of and thus wasn't much use to the knight, and his eyes had been brought back to full attention on the doctor - however, the knight, subconsciously, had allowed his hand to rest on the hilt on Gilchrist. As though he were taking a defensive position, but didn't fully commit to it - as his hand didn't grip the hilt. His next statement didn't help much, either. Doc had finally fallen silent, completely this time - and of course the knight remained as such for a moment or so to let what he had just been informed of completely sink in. "Considering we're not the only non-natives here, I'd like to assume. It doesn't feel as though he'd have an easy time having such law passed without revolting." -- he said as his eyes met with the doctors, "I can't speak for Malachi, but I have no intention of staying on this island." -- his eyes glared off to nowhere for a moment, but they turned back with plenty of truth in them, "I don't care for violence - I don't enjoy having to draw my blade, for any reason." -- it was obvious in his eyes that he was calm on the matter - he didn't seem too worried. "But I will not stand idly by and be forced to stay against my will." -- sheer confidence, calmness rested upon his golden eyes. [I hate to whine more but like. Your font and the boldness for NPC dialogue like, blend together so well it hurts my eyes. Can you give him some standard colour? ; ~;] |
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| Spunky Misunderstood Genius | Jun 7 2014, 08:30 PM Post #20 | |
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[ooc: no problem man, from now on his dialogue colour will be #00b3b3, i'll also be referring to the man as the doctor from now on until his name is revealed] The doctor shook his head slowly side to side, "It doesn't feel as though he'd have an easy time having such law passed without revolting." the doctor repeated in his head in an arrogant monotone, "But I will not stand idly by and be forced to stay against my will." “Being forced to stay on the island is the worst of your trouble, knight” The doctor wanted to say but didn’t. The knight clearly was not connecting the dots or maybe he had and was just under estimating a man who wants nothing more than to mourn over the knights, his friend, and practically everyone not him, deaths. With the knight’s somewhat acceptance to assist in stopping Monsieur Albert, explanation and story time was over. Now all he had left to do was give the cocky knight a wake up call before he could move onto the next phase of his plan. Fun. With the glass still relatively full, the doctor chugged it all down. “We're done here, lets get Malachi” the doctor told the knight. The doctor stood up from the bar stool he sat on, and walked a step or two before, “Ah, almost forgot”, placing the glass back onto the bar. Then went off down the hall that connected with the stairs he previously descended. Upon hearing the sound of the knight joining him the doctor turned and offered the knight a slight smile, “I hope you didn’t pay the bartender on our behalf. It’s not wise to pay a dead man, it disrespects their death.” And with that the two had reached the end of the hall and the beginning of the stairs. Precisely and slowly, the doctor pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and placed it between his lips. He kept his eyes on the knight as he pulled out his matches next, igniting a single match against the wooden rails before bringing the lit match to the end of his cigarette. At the sight of embers, the doctor put out the lit matched then flicked the now useless match passed the knight’s head with extreme speed and accuracy. “We better hurry if you plan on leaving as you said” the doctor suggested instead of apologizing and then hustled up the stairs, three steps at a time. The doctor waited for the knight to join him at the top of the stairs. After which the doctor sped down the halls, stopping only at the end of one so he would not lose the knight as they navigated the maze like second floor of the inn. “That’s the room malachi is in. The one with my black backpack leaning against it.” The doctor revealed before hustling to it. “Careful now.” the doctor began to warn after kicking the backpack, causing it to slide towards the knight’s feet. The rectangle shaped black back pack laid on it’s side, with it’s zip on the top unzipped and it’s contents clearly visible. Contents such as a bow, a quiver of arrows, a bottle three-quarters filled with some lightly tinted yellow liquid, and a punctured container with a small picture of a single flame on it. The backpack even emanated a faint gas smell. “Don't let this cigarette any near the bag. We don't want you to go ‘Ka-boom’.” At the end of his sentence, the doctor flicked his cigarette towards the bag. Warned, the doctor had no doubt in his mind that the knight would not go “ka-boom”, so he proceeded to unlock Malachi’s room door. “Come on now, you want to leave right? Hurry,” the doctor waved to the door after he finished unlocking it, “after you.” In the room, Malachi was no longer able to utter complete sentences at this point. Instead he growled, and moaned, and screamed, as he twisted and turned on his bed. The sheets were barely over him now, which was good, the sweat drenched Malachi’s body would be able to cool off more easily now, ultimately lowering what seemed to be a fever. And with the sheets barely covering Malachi, the cloth wrapped around Malachi’s lower back as a bandage, was fully visible, and so were Malachi's shandorian wings, as Malachi had no shirt (or bandages wrapping the wings down) on as well. No shoes or socks too, but Malachi did still wore his rag pants. And as the doctor unlocked the door, the audibility of Malachi’s screams became fully hearable through the walls and door of his room, though through no fault of the unlocking of the room door, but just from the pain. Edited by Spunky Misunderstood Genius, Jun 9 2014, 02:33 PM.
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| ♥ Emoisum | Jun 9 2014, 09:18 PM Post #21 | |
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Our knight, too, hadn't finished his drink nor did he have the intentions of doing such, either. Not much time had passed, either - the doctor chugged the remainder of his poison and informed the knight that it was time for the two of them to go and check on Malachi. Our doc was quick making it up to his feet and started his way off before Samuel had a chance to stand, too - and Hain had noticed that the doctor hadn't actually taken the time to pay the bartender that he had been rude to earlier. Just as the knight was to stand, too, he had turned and brief mentioned that he had forgot something and Samuel had thought differently, as the man had placed the glass down and again, started off without the knight. Something in Samuel was eating away at him - and it wasn't the alcohol. The knight was up and as he was walking away to catch-up with the mad-doctor, he had reached into the front of his red-robe and one of it's pockets and pulled out a small pouch of beli and tossed it over his shoulder, having it land on the bar's counter. When he had caught up, it appeared that the mad-doctor had heard the clanking of Samuel's armour or heavy boots against the wooden flooring. Hain accepted the smile upon his catching-up with a gentle nod of the head, however his lips wouldn't curl for a returning smile - and with the words that followed from the doctor, Samuel's eyes seemed to stay the same, but there was an urge that felt familiar; familiar in the sense that it had been recent. The same feeling that had surged through him earlier in the day against the samurai and the others, but he didn't act on the urge as he allowed nothing but calmness to cloak him. At the end of the hallway, they began up a set of stairs. On the way up, he watched as the doctor retrieved himself a smoke and didn't think much of it - Samuel wasn't a smoker himself and it was only an occasional thing he would partake in. It was when the man had 'aimlessly' flicked the match over his shoulder and maybe the man hadn't noticed it but Samuel had only slightly tilted his head - it was fast and didn't seem to be aimed for the knight, but in the off chance that it was - it could have taken an eye out if he wasn't careful. The following words to leave the mad-doctor's mouth didn't have an apology among them but instead, suggesting that they were to hurry - especially when the mad-doctor was the one leading the way, Samuel's eyes stayed on the mad-doctor as their pace picked up. Turning a corner, the mad-doctor pointed out that his room was the one with the backpack outside of it. Hain didn't exactly know why such information was needed, but the bag was kicked across the floor to the tip of Samuel's boots - looking down at it for a moment, and with it being unzipped he could see many of it's contents - not only the smell of some form of gas, but there was a bow with plenty of arrows in the pack - among a few other things. Our knight refrained from his eyes having any form of emotion to them, as he made sure to allow his nostrils to flare as he appeared to be smelling what radiated from the pack. All of this was evidence - obvious evidence and the mad-doctor knew that. Everything seemed to be coming full circle.. Again the doctor spoke, and Samuel watched as once his words had stopped, he had flicked the cigarette toward Samuel and the bag - the mad doctor's actions weren't helping his situation and the thoughts and pieces that Samuel had already began earlier to put together. He had caught the cigarette and crushed it in his hand, putting out any form of heat or flame it had to it - he took a few steps forward, toward the mad-doctor as he dropped the crumbled tobacco on the ground. As his steps got closer and the door slowly opened, the sounds of Malachi's screams and moans, groans of pain were echoed and all too apparent now. If Malachi had been a friend or someone closer to him - he would have rushed in as soon as the sounds had reached his ears, but having only met the man hours ago - Samuel was nothing but cautious. Even after the mad-doctor had given Samuel the go-ahead to enter the room first, the knight stood there for a moment and stared into the room - he watched for that moment as Malachi was tossing and turning in pain - the wings that he donned on his back didn't phase the knight in the slightest. His golden-eyes stared into the room while he stood in the doorway with the mad-doctor for another moment added on - the screams of agonizing pain from Malachi going through one ear and out the other - but he allowed his eyes to look as though they were sadden for a moment, as it looked as though he were to take a step into the room. But swiftly enough, Samuel had reached into his red robe and grabbed a hold of the hilt of Malachi's eighteen-inch blade that he had hidden on his person earlier when he had taken them from Malachi's person - he quickly turned to the mad-doctor and took quick hold of the wrist he had waved and gestured for Samuel to enter the room and swiftly twisted it the arm and bent it at the elbow and turned the mad-doctor so that his back was facing Samuel now and he pulled him away from the door and proceeded to slam him into the open door-frame. Our knight's grip on the man's wrist was tight, and while the mad-doctor's other hand was free, Samuel would like to imagine he wasn't an idiot - as Samuel's other hand had a reverse-grip on Malachi's blade, which now rested on the nape of the mad-doctor's neck, pushed into the skin ever so slightly - but enough to draw blood. "You're going to tell me what exactly is going on." -- Samuel's hold on the mad-doctor's wrist tightened, "Otherwise I shatter your wrist and proceed to sever your spinal cord." -- he pushed Malachi's blade, cutting deeper into the nape of the mad-doctor's neck. While Samuel was looking out for himself - he normally wouldn't go about it like this, however.. the feeling that's been surging through him ever since he had stepped foot onto this island was pushing and pushing at him to react - to be violent. To fight - and while he's been fighting back the urge - what he saw in the backpack, the way this mad doctor has been acting hasn't helped his own situation, as well as Samuel's urge to draw his blade on someone. |
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| Spunky Misunderstood Genius | Jun 9 2014, 11:26 PM Post #22 | |
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The doctor laughed nervously at the situation he found himself in. Of all the things he wanted to say to the knight at the moment only one comment would not result in his early demise. “Damn I really thought you finally put all my hints together, to see the bigger picture, but now you're asking me to paint it out for you tsk tsk.” Needless to say, it resulted in Samuel tighten his grip on his wrist and the blade cutting deeper into the back of his neck. “Look if you don't remove that blade from my neck, Malachi will die. The only person trying to help you escape death by Monsieur Albert plans and escape the island, I, will die. Innocence people natives and travelers will all die. I mean really, what does Monsieur Albert gain by holding all these people here as you innocently put it? Monsieur Albert wants nothing but more death, a more massive death than whiskey peak, which if you haven't figured out by now was all conducted by him. Mourning for more deaths, more passionately than any other mourner makes you head mourner remember? The guy was there in his pajamas, toothpaste all over his mouth, and half of his hair brushed. Not only that he was the only one there mourning for every death that took place in whiskey peak. I mean the people are too stupid to figure it out, but come on, my hints were spelling it out for you, especially since you were there.” The doctor blurted out, without taking much of a breather. He was carrying the torch of whiskey peak at this very moment, he could not die now, at least not until he passes it on to someone more capable of the task. Someone who shares the same ability every other pirate who affected whiskey peak in a notable and big way has, an ability called haki. Then it dawned on the doctor, “Wait a minute. Maybe I'm wrong and you really are a selfish violent dick, but in the off chance you are actually a stereotypical knight, I got to ask: are you currently being possessed by the demon of whiskey peak's whiskey peak?” It sounded like a weird question to ask but like most priests and mourners on the island, they believed that a demon lives in whiskey peak’s whiskey peak, who by passing through individuals will increase their bloodlust. They also believed that the demon can latch itself onto a susceptible individual or even possess them, causing their bloodlust to stay heighten even after leaving whiskey peak's whiskey peak. Usually the priest and mourners just ask if the individual were touched or are possess, that was the norm around whiskey peak. The doctor just hoped if the knight were possess he would be able to fight it, and a bit harder than he may or may not be doing so already. “If you are possessed, for all our sakes, fight it! Don't tell me I made a mistake in trying to convince you to join my cause, don’t tell me you are so weak that a spirit can influence what you decide to do!?” “Arhaaaaaaa” Malachi screamed and the screamed bellowed throughout the room; his eyes shot open. His eyes appeared pale, they were no longer a bright glowing chaotic amber yellow, they were instead close to cream, and they no longer swirled around his pupil, they were still, lifeless; his eyes seemed to be holding onto Malachi's tears, that had built up, from flowing as if it were a dam. Malachi oddly folded his legs and brought his knees to his chest, meanwhile he grasp his head with both hands, his fingers arched like a woman in ecstasy's back, and his fingertips and nails dug deep into his hair as if they were seeking shelter from whatever had frighten them. And like this, Malachi kept screaming. The doctor persisted with his plea to the knight. “You fucked up bad taking the shard out of his back, did you even sterilize your blade? You're lucky. I don't think there is another doctor on the island that could have brought Malachi this close to full recovery in the limited amount of time. The drug I made and used on him will speed up the healing process and will kill the bacterias in his body, bad bacteria and unfortunately the good bacteria as well. And while the drug is helping him, his body is fighting it because it is unnatural. It’s only supposed to be in him till he finished healing, if it stays active in his body any longer he will die. The pain and screams is proof of that. I saw that boy saved your life, and you endangered his? That’s not the way of the knight, as far as I know, so fight it, fight the demon. Let me go.” Malachi’s wings flustered as Malachi rolled from his side onto his knees. With nothing holding him down, Malachi started going on a rampage. Banging his head against the bed, then the bed frame. He rolled off the bed, and started banging his head against the floor, then wall. He began to punch and kick things around him, all while screaming or muttering on things about what he needed to do as soon as possible. Malachi stopped after the latest head bang against the wall, he held his head there and grabbed his chest with his right hand where his heart was. Malachi was in so much pain, and with his fishman father captured and soon to be executed, thoughts of being alone in the world plagued his mind, loneliness began to plague his heart. “The people of whiskey peak need you, I need you... he needs you, let me go and hold Malachi down.” Edited by Spunky Misunderstood Genius, Jun 9 2014, 11:51 PM.
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| ♥ Emoisum | Jun 11 2014, 03:55 PM Post #23 | |
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With almost every word that had escaped the doctor, the grip on his wrist would tighten to near snapping point - crushing into nothing but shards. However, the doctor was lucky enough as he had already said enough for the machete to have clear-gone through him, but the knight had bottled up enough of the lust for blood that surged through his veins to restrain himself from near-decapitating the doctor. Samuel took in everything he said, every word - but his eyes didn't move from the doctor as he didn't trust him, not in the slightest - not after he had literally tossed proof and evidence to Samuel that he was the one behind the explosions earlier. The explosion that took several lives, almost his own and barely missed Malachi's. More words, more clench - Samuel had already paid his debt to Samuel by getting him to a doctor. What happened after that didn't require the knight's loyalty. The word weak caught Samuel's attention most: Every muscle in his body tightened and the hair on the back of his neck stood-up, not in fear but instead, in anger. Our knight has always done what's best for others; protect those that couldn't protect themselves and fight off evil when his sword was needed. There might be some truth to what the man had said; the blood-demon had made it's way into Hain and was enraging him, making him yearn for a death at his hands. Samuel always tells himself that he follows the Knight's Code: that he doesn't draw his sword unless necessary, he doesn't invoke violence unless needed. But as his mind and body would show otherwise, right now; deep down he wanted to fight and draw his blade on people. Not so much as any random victim, but to those who deserved it - maybe this demon was just showing Samuel the way he truly wanted to be and he's always just held it in, locked away with any other darkness within his heart and mind. Out of the corner of his golden eyes, that had likely taken on a hue of crimson at this point, he could see Malachi bashing around erratically. It was clear the man was in pain, but Samuel held a life in his hands but it was taking everything good inside of him to not follow through with ridding this man of his life. Anger, sorrow, glee - everything was boiling up inside Samuel's mind, body and soul and his eyes burned through the back of the doctor's skull. But it would feel as though time had stopped, as everything around the knight had slowed down. The world, time and everything of it wasn't moving at this moment other than Samuel - but in this moment there was nothing except the sense of overwhelming clarity. Samuel wasn't holding the machete in his hand and the doctor speaking nor Malachi's screams could be heard. There was nothing. Hain could feel himself falling, but gently, as all around him there was nothing but darkness - emptiness. But above him, high above him there was a single, bright light. His mind was clear. It was quiet. There was an euphoric feeling rushing over him - all of him. "What's going on...?" His body wouldn't allow him to move his lips, but his thoughts were clear and ready for anything. The question he had asked himself couldn't be answered - as there was nothing or no one to answer him. His golden eyes didn't maintain their usual hue, and emptiness had taken them over - there was nothing, but he could still see as he stared at the single light of which he didn't know what to do with. Though as he continued to stare, the light itself seemed to taken on an image; the light had turned out to be massive eye, but still shined brightly in the emptiness. "... I.." He didn't even know what to think, but his lips refused to move. But in this moment, shockingly, an eye opened up in the center of Samuel's forehead. It was more thin than wide, and instead of Samuel's golden it maintained a silver look to them. But with this eye, Samuel could see - see everything he had missed. All the hints from the doctor once they had began drinking, the words an everything seemingly flew by Samuel's mind as he processed them all - and with this new found sense of clarity he was able to see through the words and toward the person. Every word. None of it was true. He was hinting at something, but it wasn't for Samuel and Malachi's help. With a heavy inhale, Samuel extended a hand out toward the eye and grasped at it. All the words he had heard or read recently flew past him as he found himself back with Malachi's screaming and the last and final piece from the 'doctor'. With his eyes wide-open, any crimson hue was lost and his golden eyes were calm as they returned to normal. "Stop talking." -- he simply said to the doctor as the doctor's wrist was on it's 'last leg', Samuel clenched and shattered it completely as he pulled the knife from the skin and tissue he had slid into and quickly followed through with his arm, bringing his elbow to the back of the mad-doctor's head, with enough force to likely push his face into the door frame and maybe break his nose, but ultimately rendering him unconscious. Tossing him over his shoulder, Samuel walked down a few steps and picked up the bag with the arrows and such in it, quickly turned and returned to Malachi's room - shutting and locking the door behind him. He would see to Malachi, but first he walked over to a corner of the room and dropped the mad-doctor down - he reached into the bag and pulled out two arrows. Taking each wrist, one at a time, Samuel pushed the arrows through the open palms and 'nailed' him to the wall with the arrows. If he woke up in the process, Samuel would likely see to rendering him out again. He would do the same to his feet, as he slammed Malachi's machete through and through so that it was in the floor - doing the same to the other leg, however this time he used only an arrow. Samuel lacked rope, or if he had any, he chose to ignore it. The 'Mad-Doctor' should be unable to move - a crushed wrist, crucifixion against a wall. Samuel would rush to Malachi's aid as he would pick him up, kicking and screaming, and placed him down on the bed. He'd sit to the side of him, holding his arms down, and look the 'Ox' dead in the eyes: "You can't save your father if you lay here and die like a coward." -- was all he had to say to the Ox. |
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| Spunky Misunderstood Genius | Jun 11 2014, 07:03 PM Post #24 | |
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The doctor was wrong, his job was finished when he gave Malachi the drug, everything after that, including Malachi's survival depended on Malachi's own willpower. By punching, kicking, and banging his head among various things, Malachi gave himself a new pain to worry about, and the constant muttering of what he needed to do combine with the screaming allowed his words to get through to himself, to strengthen his will to fight. Like the doctor, the drug job was finished. So Malachi continued until he felt the battle was over, and all he was left with was the realization that he wanted the impossible. With no ship, no real friends or allies, no money, still a novice fighter, the odds were clearly against him in the task Malachi set for himself. Sure Malachi can change those odds, but he did not have the time. His father was going to die, and he will be alone in the world. And Malachi did not want that for himself. So Malachi made his way to the window in the room. The room light caused a glare that didn’t allow Malachi to look outside, so he opened it, pushing the window casement like window frames out, and stuck his head out after it. The chilly wind that blew caused Malachi to shiver, as he looked down to the base of the inn, estimating how far the room window was from the ground. He wanted a quick death, no more pain. Malachi lifted and placed his left foot onto the windowsill, but never got a chance to bring up his right. “Let me go.” Malachi screamed and reiterated several times while he kicked and squirm in Samuel’s grasp, which continued even when Samuel placed and pinned him onto the bed. The knight was much stronger than he was, Malachi could not break free no matter what he tried, but Malachi kept at it, he did not stop trying to break free. “You don't get it, he’s as good as dead. He’s on some marine convo ship that’s heading to some rendezvous point where they will transfer him onto the ship that brings prisoners to impel down.” Malachi wailed and vented. “I've got no ship, no money, and no allies to chase them down with. And when they execute him, I truly will have nothing.” “I know where you can get those things.” The doctor whimpered. The doctor had awoken much quicker than anticipated, he hanged on the wall breathing deeply, he appeared half aware as if his mind was focused on something else, whatever he was doing it kept him from howling from the pain Samuel had bestowed upon him. Upon waking, the doctor planned to pretend to still be unconscious, at least until Samuel and Malachi left, and from there he'll let the dice roll about how he would get himself down, but now, now he had the leverage he needed to get his way. Unfortunately upon looking at Samuel face, the doctor realized his awakening was not one welcomed. Anticipating that Samuel may get up from where he sat to put knock him out again, the doctor, said all he wanted and needed to say as fast as humanly possible, and maybe even faster than that. “Look wait, wait, hear me out. A man, a man named Parley II sent me after you guys to make sure you guys weren't hurt from the explosion, and then, 'cloaked in the darkness of the night', I was to escort you guys to him so he can ask for your help. That guy is a pansy though, he thinks so small with his pea size brain, why not use the power of haki and become head mourner, instead of using it to bring peace to this god forsaken island? Wait, wait! There aren't any ships left, right? Wrong, there will be tomorrow! Marines are coming. Monsieur Albert is using the beli the Mourning Council found buried under the Cactihedral, probably all the beli from the two armies who once fought here, to hire some beli loving Commander rank marine to help make sure his plans run smoothly. He also wants them to bring a letter to the world government declaring whiskey peak as a country that wants to join the world government, when this is all over. Look if you help me overthrow Monsieur Albert and make me head mourner, I’ll be able to give you some of the beli, and maybe the marines’ spare ship, I'll even give you men that will be yours to command. What do you say, scratch my back, I scratch yours?” After the doctor said all he could with his limited breath, he closed his eyes, fully expecting to get punched or elbowed in the face. The doctor’s words restored what little hope was left in Malachi like someone blowing on a dying campfire flame. Malachi knew if he could get his hands on those three things the doctored offered maybe just maybe if even fate, mother nature, the gods, lady luck, and whatever else he could believe in if it would better his chances, was on his side, then maybe he would make it in time, and save his father from his father’s predetermined fate. No. If he wanted to better his chances he would need the strongest men he could find, he would need to steal the fastest marine ship, not some spare ship, and he would need every single beli to the last drop. Malachi wonder how willing the doctor was willing to help, especially with what Malachi really needed; the doctor's words raised his brows, and Malachi got a feeling that Samuel didn't seem to like the doctor though he wasn't sure where this feeling stemmed from, Malachi was not entirely sure the doctor would make a worthwhile and trustworthy ally even for a short while. Malachi did had some other concerns though like: who was this Monsieur Albert fellow, what were his plans, what is "haki", who was this doctor, and why was he crucified to the wall. Since the doctor seemed too blurted out so much information out of fear to Samuel, Malachi figured the questions that concerned him could be answered by Samuel if he asked. However there was one that Samuel probably could not answer. “Wait, Samuel” Malachi rasped through the rawness of his throat. No longer a harm to himself and the doctor awake, there was no reason for Samuel to be holding Malachi down. With his hands balled up into a fist, Malachi pushed himself off the bed, ignoring the soreness from them as best as he could. He looked around the room, searching for his bag, pistol, and machete; or his “effects” as he usually refers to them as. The doctor opened his eyes, “Thank you, thank you.” The doctor said with sincerity. “Now get me down,” the doctor wasted no time barking out instructions for Samuel and Malachi to follow now that his life was no longer in any danger, “we have to hurry, something is going to go down here and I don't want to be here when it happens. I have some horses out back, yo-" “Where are we supposed to meet this Parley II guy you were talking about?” interrupted Malachi without a care if he was being disrespectful to the doctor or not. Unwrapping the bandage around his lower back and replacing them with new ones from his bag having found his effects, Malachi was getting ready to leave. “Eh? Oh. Well he said to escort you guys to this spa near the river, not too far from the Weeping Summit and the Cacithedral. My best guess is that he would be there.” The doctor answered. “Hurry and get me down Samuel. Malachi get my aid kit out of my bag, you two are going to have to fix me up.” The doctor added using the name of the knight, the name he had just learned from Malachi. Malachi just finished wrapping his wings down as the doctor requested the first aid kit from his bag. Malachi did as he was told, he walked over to the doctor’s bag, where Samuel left it, and started digging through it until something caught his eyes. Malachi pulled out a necklace that used peculiar stones instead of beads out of the doctor’s bag, “Is this prayer bead necklace yours?” “Yeah, I had it since birth. It’s special to me.” The doctored replied after some hesitation. “Perfect,” Malachi placed the necklace around his neck, “Thank you, for everything.” Malachi grabbed his bag and pistol, throwing the former over his shoulder and placing the latter in his pants pocket. On his way out Malachi placed his hand on Samuel shoulder and looked into Samuel eyes with a tint of bloodlust in his own glowing amber yellow eyes, “Well I'll go get the horses ready for us, and wait for you to join me outside. Even if don't decide to join me in what I plan to do, there will still be a readied horse for you, and I'll still be waiting, so you can return my machete when you are done with it.” With no further business to conduct in the room, Malachi proceeded to unlock and open the door, and without so much as a glance back closed the door behind himself after he went through. The last thing Malachi heard before the door closed was the doctor asking about the whereabouts of his first aid kit that he requested Malachi to obtain for him.
Malachi walked a few paces forward, then turned left. He continued, and took his first left. He took a right, a left, he started running instead of walking, he tried taking only lefts, and only rights, he even tried opening random doors. The door’s he open were either empty or had someone passed out on the floor. At first Malachi just closed the door and went on trying different combination of lefts and rights, but then, ”Holy shit! Where the hell is the stairs!? The Exit!?” Malachi complained. He had wasted minutes trying to find his way to the first floor of the inn. The maze like second floor was well beyond Malachi’s comprehension. The next door Malachi saw, he opened it, “Yes,” Malachi said to himself in victory, “another room with someone passed out on the floor”. Malachi decided it was time to ask for directions, he approached the person, and gently shook him. “Wake up, I’m lost.” No luck, the man did not even budge. Malachi shook the man more violently, “Wake up ossan.” Again nothing. “You wanna play hardball eh?” Malachi went into the room bathroom, “Damn I should have came in here with a cup or a bowl, or something that can hold water.” Time was short, so Malachi made due with what he had. In less than 40secs, Malachi was out of the bathroom, his checks were bloated to the point that they were red on his slightly dark olive tone skin. “No nothing, alright.” Malachi said after emptying his mouth of the sink water onto the man’s face. When Malachi returned to the bathroom, he did so with a cup. “Okay this has to wake you up.” Malachi placed the man’s hand into the cup of warm water, and waited for the man to eventually empty his bladder on himself. Malachi chuckled when it worked but the fact that the man did not wake up kinda killed the mood. “Sheesh, snorlax~ossan.” Malachi reached over to check the man’s pulse. “Whew, okay. Fine then,” Malachi said in relief before slapping the man’s face as hard as he could, “okay now ‘fine then’. If you want to pretend to be that deep of a sleeper I will just mess up your room.” Malachi found a conveniently placed red maker and had his way on the room walls and the man face, he wrote and drew all kind of vulgar things on the wall and the man’s face and body, the latter was done after he had strip the man of his clothes. When he was done, Malachi stepped back, took a look at the work he had done, and decided what he saw, it was good, so Malachi decided to sign off on everything. “Just in time, the marker went dry. Alright, what was I doing again?” Malachi wondered before hearing neighing of horses coming from the window, “Oh right!” Malachi ran out of the room, then he came back, kicked the man into the stomach as hard as he could, “Okay he wasn’t faking it”, then continued down the hall till he could no longer hear the neighing of the horses. “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...that way” Malachi decided after a short spin, and ran in that direction, he stopped in. In no time Malachi found the stairs. At first he skipped a few steps, then he started jumping down the rest, Malachi mind was suddenly preoccupied with what the horses appearance might be. “Things are going my way, don’t worry father I'll make it in time to save you.” Malachi rushed down the hallway that led to the stairs, but stopped abruptly at the sound of someone gagging to death. Malachi pushed his backside to one side of the hallway wall and slowly moved his head out to check the situation. “Stop for the love of everything dead stop.” Parley I said albeit a bit muffled, to everyone who were either on their knees praying or standing with their head down in silence. “Sorry, what was that Parley I, I can’t hear you over your hand covering your mouth.” one guy lifted his head up to say. “That’s because I’m trying to stop the blood falling from my nose.” Parley lashed back. “Oh man, are you dying? Come on guys, lets mourn for Parley I, he was one of the greatest swordsman to ever walked Whiskey peak.” The quick witted guy responded. Parley I was pretty speechless. As soon as everyone stopped mourning, those not dressed in all black started running around like chickens with their heads cut off, except the people, were screaming… The people in black drew their spear top maces and slammed it across one of those “headless chicken”. “Oh my gosh, I think he’s dead.” “I killed him.” “Yeah. You did” Parley answered, trying to put an end to everyone’s confusion. “Oh my gosh. He’s dead.” “Damn, I guess I did kill him” Before Parley could say something else someone screamed, “Lets mourn.” And they all started to do so, all except Parley. Parley could not for the life of him understand what was wrong with these people. “You’re all going to die, why are you mourning instead of running away while these idiots are mourning over the person they just killed? And you idiots, why are you mourn after each death? Why not just mourn after you kill them all?” Parley wondered. Of course the guy who has been back talking to Parley spoke up to respond, “We are the priest from Dour Top, the most devoted priest in all over whiskey peak, maybe second to Monsieur Albert, that guy is a saint. He’s always mourning over the dead, even more passionately than us, he should be head mourner.” “Did you guys read today’s newspaper late edition? I heard he was the only one to mourn for those that died in whiskey peak, bless his soul.” Another person dressed in black added, and of course this lead to a conversation between everyone. “Oh yeah I heard about that, I also heard that the two people walking away from the site might have been the one to have done it. One was a well dress man in a red robe, no pictures or bounty, but the other had one, his name was Molly-Kai, or something like that.” “Malachi the Ox. They included his wanted poster inside every late edition newspaper.” The last person to talk before Parley I let out a ferocious yell, said. “When you Priest from ‘Dour Top’ are done come get me, I’ll be at the bar down the street.” “There is a bar right there,” none other than the guy who had been crawling under Parley I skin began, “We can save the bartender for last so you can get your fill on drinks.” Parley I didn’t bother to respond instead he just slammed the door shut behind him. Edited by Spunky Misunderstood Genius, Jun 15 2014, 08:33 PM.
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Support both Oda and the Official English Release of One Piece by Purchasing the Shonen Jump Magazine Here My Last Character: Nox Old
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| ♥ Emoisum | Jun 18 2014, 12:48 PM Post #25 | |
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After Malachi had left the room, shutting the door behind him, Samuel stood still for the moment - his eyes slowly glancing toward the window and staring at what was on the other-side. What was there was nothing - a view of nothing but the broad side of a building. This nothingness allowed for Samuel's mind to drift off again, drift off to nothing. He could feel every time his took in a breath of air through his nostrils, the movement of his chest that each breath gave. The slight movement of his muscles even though his body stood still - the breathing of the mad doctor, crucified to the wall entered the flow of Samuel's sound-waves. But all of that would come to an end at the sound of the mad-doctor's voice. It triggered Samuel's attention of course, as the knight turned to him. "[color#=00b3b3]Where's the kit?[/color]" -- he asked Samuel as the knight's eyes met with the mad-doctors. Still for the moment, his lips didn't move - not even the muscles around them twitched. Hain had nothing he wanted to say to the man - he was despicable in the eyes of the knight. With the rest of his body in motion, Samuel turned to the mad-doctor and stepped toward him, bringing his face only a few inches away from his own. Generally, Samuel wouldn't get all caught up with the matters of another island - but the small signs that the mad-doctor has given off ever since the bar has done nothing but eaten away at Samuel's norm. With the blood-lust of the island having surged through him, only for him to barely escape it's grasp it had upon his very heart, broke free and didn't kill the mad-doctor when he had the 'demon' rushing through him. "You disgust me." -- the knight said with a blank expression rested upon himself. Not only were there ruffians among the group of people that he had killed in the explosion, but innocent people were among them, too. Samuel wasn't a man of the cloth and didn't believe in a higher power - nor did he believe that 'every life is sacred' - but the way that this man had gone about doing what he had done to them just scratched something in Samuel that irritated him to no extent. The mad-doctor looked nervous - the expressions of fear just poured all over his face with Samuel's blankness. "I-I have what you need.." -- just as those words had escaped him, Samuel grabbed him by the chin and didn't allow for his head to move at all - the mad doctor's eyes shot all around until finally they grew tired and they had to rest upon Samuel's own, golden hues. "You have nothing." -- he said with the most direct of tones, but still the blankness of his own expressions. "I have what M-Malachi needs, Samuel." -- another moment of nothingness from Samuel took over as the eyes of the mad-doctor and Samuel's own didn't budge from one-another. "My debt is paid to Malachi." -- Samuel's mind clear of thought could heard the muscles in the mad-doctor's throat move as he swallowed - the nervousness of his expressions, heavier than before. "People will mourn me.. You'll be doing nothing to help yourself by killing me, Samuel." -- in that instance as those words left his lips, both of Samuel's hands grabbed a hold of both sides of the mad-doctor's face as he stepped even close now, and it was in this instance that Samuel's eyes finally reacted to his own actions. They widened. They deepened. "No one will mourn you." The sound of the door shutting creaked, and dangling from the door knob was a 'Do not disturb' sign. The knight found himself walking down the hallway, and a set of stairs, as he cleaned the machete with a rag he had taken from the room. He wasn't sure if Malachi was still outside - but the horse would be appreciated. If he was there, he'd likely end up tagging along - not in a sense of loyalty but in the sense that they both needed the same thing. It was now that Samuel found himself pushing the swinging door to the bar open and walked into a crowded room. He looked up from the machete and around bar. "Hey, it's the well dressed man." -- one of the folk among the people said. |
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| Spunky Misunderstood Genius | Jun 20 2014, 11:09 AM Post #26 | |
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Malachi let out a sigh of relief when all he saw was an empty room, “Hmm I wonder where the people who I heard talking are then,” Malachi wondered as he continued to sneak around the place, just in case, but quickly changed his mind when he saw an exit sign at the end of a long hallway not too far from where he was. “Sweet,” Malachi said as he ran down said hall, running past paintings hanging on the wall, closed and probably locked doors, and even a western swinging saloon door that led into the inn’s bar. And as Malachi ran pass this swinging door; which was a different swinging door of the bar than the one Samuel would enter through, Malachi got the answer to his question about where the people who he had heard were talking earlier were talking. Despite the voices not being very audible when he heard them earlier, meaning he did not know what was being said between everyone in the bar, he was sure these were the people he had heard through the inn’s thin walls. Curious driven, Malachi was about to walk right through the swinging doors, but he immediately noticed a lot of dead bodies on the floor as he stood in front of the swinging doors with his hand on one, his head clearly over both, and a facial expression that showed that Malachi was in a bit shock, so he quietly moved away from the doors, back in the direction he came from. “Holy shit. Those people in there are crazy. They are taking bar fighting to a whole new level.” Malachi said before watching the people in black kill then mourn, kill then mourn, rinse, lather, and repeat. After watching that he no longer felt crazy was the right word to describe them. Nevertheless, Malachi’s main concern was not being killed next, instead of finding the right word to describe them, no matter how badly that idea plagued his mind. “Okay, the next time they mourn I’ll make a run for it. Yeah, I’m pretty sure I can set a horse up in the time they mourn, and if they see me and come out, maybe I can hold them off a bit, till Samuel comes down. Yeah that’s what I should do, way better than my other plans, especially the plan where I intervene on their madness. That would be a bad decision to make. Anyways, now someone other than me, hurry up and die.” And then someone did, “Thank you, rest in peace, I hope for the best for your family in everything that they do and all their endeavors without you in their lives,” Malachi began then realize what he had said and that his head was down, “Man this mourning stuff is contagious, I really need to get away from here.” Malachi jolted passed the swinging door only to be stopped dead in his tracks when someone in the room spoke up and said something about a well-dressed man. Still only dressed in pants that now looked like even a homeless man would not dare wear if they were pants less and cold out, and an upper body practically all wrapped up in bandages like a mummy, no footwear, and his rucksack over his shoulder, pistol in his pocket, Malachi knew they could only be talking about one person, him. Malachi blushed as he turned around and went back to the swinging doors. Blushing still, Malachi was waving his hands up in down as if he were asking them to stop flattering him. Malachi eyes could see that everyone not dead was mourning the dead except one, so he must have said it, but he was not looking towards his direction. He was looking towards Samuel’s. “Oh…” Malachi said after the realization that they had not seen him at all. Shortly after everyone else dress in black finished mourning too, they too all looked towards Samuel direction. “Oi… I’m here too,” Malachi muttered in a bit of jealously. Despite wanting some attention he moved out of the doorway, leaving a portion of his head in sight to watch and listen to them talk about Samuel. “Where did he come from?” “Upstairs maybe?” “Wouldn't everyone upstairs be asleep?” “Yeah. The only people to have went upstairs were the ones who all either ate or drink something that I had drugged. So they would all be out right now.” “He's right. I saw it. Anyone who got all drunk-drowsy, went to talk to the innkeeper. They brought rooms to sleep in, then went upstairs to sleep in them.” “So snorlax-ossan really was sleeping. Damn, I should go apologize and clean the place up.” Malachi said, feeling a bit guilty for his actions against the man he tried to get assistance from. “Er, I’ll go after” Malachi told himself before eavesdropping again. “Speaking of buying, where did they keep the money they made from everyone buying a room for the night? I want to buy a new robe.” “Parley I took it when he left.” “Parley I? Did they mean Parley II or …?” wondered Malachi, as he continued to watch and listen to the people in black clothing converse amongst themselves. “Damn, so what are we going to do about this guy?” “Maybe the drug wore off?” “Did we really take that long? Maybe Parley I was right, about all this morning. We should kill everyone all at once, that way we can mourn all at once after.” “Wait a minute, I remember this guy. He was talking with someone at the bar. Said something about wanting to leave the inn and even the island, and I remembered Parley I said no one could leave, so I slipped something in his and the guy he was talking to drinks. And I'm sure he drank it, I know I saw him take the glass into his hands I think er I'm pretty damn sure he looked at it. mhmm, I can swear he looked at it at the very least. Oh and I heard the person he was talking to say his drink tasted like hard liquor, so they must have drunk it. So there is no way that it could be wearing off so soon. The drug I used was very strong, same I used for the others. So it should be taking effect within him as we speak. I mean why else would he and the doctor go upstairs?” “Well he seems to be fine to me.” “Maybe he’s resisting it or something.” “Well if he’s resisting it we should see some symptoms.” “Like what?” “Slow reaction time. Difficulty understanding the situation he is in and difficulty understanding sensory information. There’s becoming overconfident, which may cause him to take risks he would not have taken otherwise. Then finally his body will relax, and he will start to feel drowsy. It’s night-night after that.” “Well he does seem like he doesn't understand what’s going on.” “Yeah, and he does seem relaxed.” “I guess it is working.” “Sorry for doubting you.” “It’s okay brother.” “Let’s hurry up here, finish killing and mourning for these people while this well-dressed man falls asleep.” “Okay everyone, on the count of three, we all kill the remaining people in the room at the same time.” “Wait. Well doesn't he know too much now? We should kill him too.” “Okay everyone, on the count of three, we all kill the remaining people in the room at the same time. And that well-dressed man too.” Everyone else were still mourning, so there were no screaming or running around like headless chickens from them. Malachi watched as the people in black, surrounded each person, and as three approached Samuel. “I told him to meet me outside not get himself into trouble. Sheesh. ” Malachi said to himself. “Then again I did tell him I would be outside getting the horses ready. Which I should be doing, then again he might need my help. Decisions-decisions, er, what should I do..." “One.” Malachi heard someone said starting the three count. "I guess that means I should help him out. mHmm. Well the first person to throw a punch that connects wins,” Malachi told himself as he walked through the swinging doors with the utmost confidence in himself. With the people in black attention elsewhere they did not notice him walk in. "Two." the same person counting to three said next. “Er wait a minute, they have weapons, and I don’t. I need something.” Malachi began looking around for something to use before noticing a conveniently placed tone dial jukebox closeby, “Fancy.” Without a care to what would come out of it or his previous concern for a weapon, Malachi pressed the button, starting it, then ducked out of sight. Music came out of the tone dial jukebox. Save for the sounds of confusions, Malachi really didn’t know if the music really distracted them at all, they didn’t say a word about it. “Did they already killed someone?” Malachi darted up and ran behind the bar, letting his eyes drift and assess the situation along the way. Behind the bar Malachi grabbed whatever was at a reachable distance from where he crouched. His left hand grabbed a nozzle, his right, a bottle, and then said to himself, “Everyone still alive, er well..." Malachi began but quickly pushed that train of thought out of his head, "I guess I'll just have to make due with these.” “Thre—" “Bar fight!” Malachi interrupted, firmly squeezing the nozzle pump down. Beer flowed out the nozzle, though not as strongly as Malachi had hoped, into the faces of the four men dressed in black nearest to the bar. Malachi let go of the nozzle, when the men withdrew their weapons from near the peoples’ head they were getting ready to strike and he noticed two non-soaked men heading his way. Malachi threw the bottle he held in his right hand at one of them. “Bullseye!” Malachi said, as he always said when he hit’s his mark. The man that was hit fell back after the bottle smashed into pieces colliding with his hard head. One down and one more to go, Malachi ran out from behind the bar, to the side of it, he threw himself onto it, and started sliding down on the beer soaked bar top on his back, till he was pretty close to the man that was left that was still heading his way. “Person-who-throws-the-first-punch-wins-if-you-admit-defeat-say-whaaa?” Malachi shouted out quickly without articulating each word. Malachi stopped himself, and pushed himself off the bar table into some kind of flying downward fist punch to the man. "What?" Malachi's target said in response. Malachi’s punched connected with the man face, and the man and Malachi’s feet reached the ground at the same time. Malachi laughed in disbelief in what he just pulled off and, "H-He actually said what." “Okay guys, I win.” Malachi said, trying to reason with the remaining men who he had their attention to give up. The four men who Malachi had soaked earlier, who had also dropped their weapons to avoid hurting themselves as they cleared their face and eyes of beer, quickly surrounded Malachi. Without any signs or warnings, those four men began pummeling Malachi with blows and kicks. “Wait, we are not barbarians, we are civilized priest of Dour Top. Let’s kill the man with our weapons instead,” one of the four man spoke up to say and in response they all left Malachi, finally allowing Malachi body that laid on the floor with his hands over his head protecting it, to be seen. Malachi open one of his swollen eyes no longer feeling blows of his assailants fist and kicks, peaking, trying to see if the coast was clear to make a run for it. He looked around the room, some men in black were mourning, practically only 5 people other than Samuel and himself were alive who were not on the men dressed in black side, the men in black who were not mourning were going for Samuel, and the four guys, Malachi’s assailants, were cleaning their weapons till they were free of beer. Clearly the people not mourning were oblivious to those that recently died around them. “Uh yeah, Samuel, you got this right? I’m going to be outside getting the horses ready as promised, alright? You don’t have to answer, you seem busy. I'll just assume it’s cool. I should be done in a jiff.” Malachi asked and answered out loud to Samuel before grasping his right side with his left hand, and limping out through the swinging door and then the exit as fast as he could, picking up his rucksack, he had left beside the swinging door on his way in to assist Samuel, on the way out. “I need to change these bandages again” Malachi sighed. OOC: Fodders' Stats (if it matters)
Edited by Spunky Misunderstood Genius, Jun 21 2014, 06:24 PM.
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| ♥ Emoisum | Jun 22 2014, 08:15 PM Post #27 | |
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Our knight had been approached by three men, who didn't mutter so much as a a word to Samuel as he stood there - still as could be - with the cloth and machete in either hand, still just, carefully cleaning it from the blood that the mad-doctor had left behind once the knight had removed it from the crucified madness. Hain didn't see or feel much reason to move at the moment - for whatever reason he couldn't comprehend he could sense the hostile figures that were within the barroom. He couldn't be entierly sure if it were a gut feeling or something that came with the territory of his head being clearer than it normally was. One thing was for certain - he didn't need these 'senses', but his eyes to see that death was lingering the room. None of this was of his concern - but he didn't feel the urge to immediately make a move. But of course, our knight's ears perked when words were being tossed around amongst the cloaked fellows. Continuing with the norm, there was little to no expression on Samuel's face at the mention of being drugged - unlike the doctor he hadn't taken the drink of the hard liquor; which had likely saved him from being unconscious by this point. Everything had slowed down as they continued to talk - in this instance, Samuel could feel that there were life lingering among the room that didn't have any hostile nature to them - again, it wasn't something that he felt with his guts nor saw with his eyes. However, his eyes had taken a moment to themselves to glance at the three figures that had him cornered - but quickly returned to staring off into nothingness. Now, the words 'Kill everyone at once' - had caught the mental attention of the knight. It was then confirmed they had tried to drug him - but he had only taken a drink of the first drink that the 'mad-doctor' had ordered for him. If that wasn't the drugged one, then he was sure in the clear - that or his body's ability to metabolism foreign substances was outstanding. At least now everything was becoming more clear - a bit more motivation was tossed into the pot of Samuel. His eyes seemed to shrink at the mention of killing the 'well-dressed' man, too. At that moment, Samuel dropped the cloth he was cleaning Malachi's machete with as it was about to become redundant- but he wasn't about to make the first move. They hadn't asked for Samuel to relieve himself of the Malachi's machete, and he continued to grip to it's hilt. Now, the count began with a simple 'One' echoing throughout the room. It was about to be another moment that Samuel was to be caught up in the middle of other people's affairs. He wanted off the island and get himself in gear to the next one; but that didn't seem to be happening anytime soon. His nostrils flared as a heavy intake of air was retrieved, as the sound of 'Two' echoed - but it wasn't too long after someone had decided it was time to turn on the jukebox. Many of the other folk in the bar turned and looked in the music's direction, and that included Samuel as he cocked another brow at the sound of the jukebox starting to play on it's own. It didn't appear to stop the countdown however, as the men that were with the knight had turned back to him - his eyes had returned to theirs but that song started to trigger a headache of some kind. Minor, but an annoyance at most. The sound of three was about to echo, but it was cut-off by the sound of a familiar voice - Malachi shouting out from behind the bar. This caused for the three that were with Samuel to quickly turn their attention to him - using the butt of the Malachi's machete, it connected with the back of the one of the men's noggin's while the other two saw their comrade fall to the ground, but as they were turning with (their weapons?) - Samuel was quick enough to the sides of their heads and smash them together. The sound of the jukebox still rang. Our knight stepped over the unconscious folk and watched as Malachi did his thing - he was going to jump in on the beating that they were giving Ox but they stopped to rethink their strategy, mentioning they weren't barbaric enough but instead needed their weaponry to do the job. Another few steps closer, he watched as Malachi made a run for the door and informed the knight that he would go deal with the horses and that he was sure that Samuel, himself, would be able to handle all of this. Another arched brow as the Ox rushed out the door, and Samuel turned and looked to the men cleaning their weaponry of the poison known as alcohol. He could still sense that there were still people alive - on the floor or elsewhere. These men were here to kill them for the sake of having something to mourn. Putting away Malachi's machete in his belt, he placed a hand on the hilt of Gilchrist and slowly pulled it from it's sheath - he stepped over whatever was on the floor, walking between two wooden tables with wooden benches connected to them. "Walk away now or I will slay you." -- it appeared to have happened in the speed of light that Samuel withdrew Gilchrist and sliced up both tables and benches on either side of him swiftly, quickly - and any other word that ultimately meant the same. The wood clattered against the ground, as he stopped, holding his Gilchrist out to the side of him. |
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| Spunky Misunderstood Genius | Jun 23 2014, 09:28 PM Post #28 | |
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“There you guys are. I knew I should have circled around right instead of left.” Malachi said to the horses, as he finished wrapping his lower back with another roll of dry bandages. The constant rewrapping of his lower back seemed pointless at this point, it was not like blood was still seeming out the wound, and it was actually closed now. Malachi was just being extra safe. “Wow you guys are some real beauties. Since you guys can’t talk, and whoever brought you here is… somewhere not here, I guess Samuel and I will have to rename you all. ” Malachi said with a much better look at the horses standing outside the horses’ outdoor stable, right out back of the inn. One jingle and the stable door gave way, “Guess it wasn’t really locked,” and Malachi was able to reach the horses. “Ooho, hey guys.” Malachi was sure what it was, but they seemed glad to see him. There was only three horses, probably one the doctor, Samuel, and himself. The nearest one caught Malachi’s attention, “Oh wow, what a beautiful white coat you have. Hmm, I’ll name you Cherise.” The horse neighed in response. “You like that name don’t you. Oh right.” Malachi remembered he had left Samuel inside to fend for himself. Malachi quickly let out the other two horses, short on time he did not name them, and his attention was mostly on Cherise who he still left in her pen. Nevertheless, Malachi got out the necessary equipments to get a horses ready to ride. Malachi did a quick inspection on the other two horses first, checking and cleaning their hooves, giving them a quick pat and brush down; mostly to the back where the saddle would go, and finally making sure there were not cuts, swelling, or bruises on them. “You guys are awesome. I thought you guys would have given me problems, like running around or something.” Malachi complimented the horses on their good behavior, right before he his stomach growled. “Eh heh. Man, I actually can not remember the last time I ate.” Malachi tied the horses up, using their head-collar, then he brought his rucksack from his shoulders to in front of him. “Let’s see what I have in here, Sapote fruit! Awh man these are live saviors.” Malachi dropped his rucksack and pulled two out to eat himself, “That’s odd their pretty warm. I hope the yolk isn’t all sticky. Yuck. Oh do you want some?” The horse nearest to Malachi started nudging him when it noticed the Sapote on Malachi’s hand. “Well, here. I'll give you guys some too. Let me get you guys some water.” Malachi step out the stable real quick, to fetch a bucket of water out of the water pump. “Oh crap. The heat from the explosion. Plus, I kept the fruit all together in my rucksack. They should be way past spoil now. Eh, who am I kidding, I would probably still eat it.” Malachi prattled on, as he heaved the bucket of water back inside the stable. Malachi started at the horse he gave the sapote to, to eat. “…” Malachi placed the bucket down, picked up his bag, and dumped all the sapote in had in there. “Come on you, into the pen, and under the hay.” After moving the horse Malachi fed, he quickly tacked up the other horse, by putting the saddle on top of a cloth he put onto the horse back. He made sure he buckled the saddle properly before moving on to Cherise, which he planned to spend more time grooming and tacking. “What do we do brothers?” “What do you mean what should we do? We do what we are meant to.” The four men, Samuel just threaten, looked a bit nervous as they sized Samuel up. Their weapons were finally clean, and they wanted to use it on the remaining people in the room. Four of them, and including Samuel in the people they were after, four as well. They looked at each other as if they were thinking the same thing, to split up. They four men clenched the weapons they held in their hands while they walked not toward Samuel, but around him in a circle. “Hey now, no sudden movements. Technically we are walking away from you.” They stopped moving, when two stood diagonally from Samuel on two different sides, and when two stood directly at Samuel’s side. They looked at each other, they gulped, sweat dripped from their foreheads. “You guys ready?” The other three nodded in agreement. “NOW!” The four men moved in haste, falling to their knees, and dropping their weapons. They were mourning. Tears fell from their faces, “More heartless bastards.” One side mid-mourning, “Can’t believe he killed them,” another said, all believing that their fellow priest were not simply knocked unconscious by Samuel, but killed. They finished, got up and made their way to the door. “This isn’t over.” “Hey, Parley I down the street at the bar remember, let’s go get him.” “Yeah, his swordsmanship will make this no swordsmanship knight look like um…” “Let’s just quit while we're ahead.” As the four men open the same door Parley I went out of earlier, Malachi entered the room through the swinging doors he left minutes earlier. Upon his return into the room, he was joined by the sounds of a clippity clop and a neigh. “Whoaaa, settle down Cherise.” Malachi was on the back of Cherise, the later which was neighing on her hind legs, while the former held on with like his life depended on it with his left hand, which made the waving around of the pistol in his right all the more concerning. “I’m here to save… you…?” Edited by Spunky Misunderstood Genius, Jun 23 2014, 09:32 PM.
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| ♥ Emoisum | Jun 26 2014, 11:14 AM Post #29 | |
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An eyebrow shot-up while Samuel's eyes watched the priest start to form around him with their weapons drawn - with Gilchrist already wielded, he was ready to strike in the instance their breathing and hostile intent came into play. His golden hues scanned slowly to his left and right - the golden brow of his stayed arched when the priests' movements had stopped and then they began to speak and once one of them shouted and gave the others the ready, his grip on the hilt of Gilchrist tightened greatly and he could hear his own muscles tense as he was readying himself to bring himself on the defense against the four of them men. However, while their breathing may have lost some rhythm - there was no hostile aura of them as the sound of their weapons hitting the ground clanked and echoed and they had dropped to their knees. Our knight's brow had dropped as his grip on Gilchrist loosened and he looked around at the men. They went into immediate mourning - their tears hitting the floor. At the mention of 'him' killing them, Samuel had to assume they were talking about the knight, himself - he glanced over his shoulder at the unconscious priests' he had simply rendered such. Back to the priests', he watched them with much haste make their way to the door - but before the goon-priests would make their way out the door the found themselves talking, amongst themselves or likely at Samuel - but the name Parley took to Samuel quickly. It was a name that the mad-doctor had dropped earlier. Before words could escape Samuel, they had dashed out. It was at the same time that, as their door had closed, the sound of hooves knocking against wooden floor came through Samuel's opposite ear - he stood in the middle of the room with carved up tables and benches, Gilchrist in his hand and he turned to see Malachi ride in on a white steed. Our knight looked up to Malachi as his horse didn't appear to want to cooperate. Confidence tuning into uncertainty as the Ox declared he was here to save the knight - Samuel stood there silent for the few seconds to follow and simply blinked at the Ox as he sat upon his steed. Without a word from the knight as he stared up at Malachi, he still wielded Gilchrist and he brought his sword arm up across his chest, blade over his shoulder as he still stared at Malachi - still without a word uttered, he swung with great might and a fair-sized wave of white and golden hues flew through the air and through the wall - cutting clear through the wood. Calmly, he returned Gilchrist to it's sheath at his side and started walking toward the door and wall he had just sent a shockwave through. Stopping at the door, he turned to the side so that he was looking toward Malachi and his mare, "Parley is at the bar down the street." -- turning the doorknob, he peeked out to see if his shockwave may have clipped one of the priests - looking bother directions, he saw a piece of cloth and possibly a drop of blood in one direction. Finding the bar should be simple enough - turning back to Malachi, "Let's go." -- Samuel might had taken a little hit to ego and swordsmanship, as he headed out the door and started to follow the trail. After he had opened the door completely, it had fallen in half as his shockwave had hit it, too. |
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| Spunky Misunderstood Genius | Jun 26 2014, 01:49 PM Post #30 | |
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[ooc: Err I apologize. Writing this post made me realized that in some of my previous post I used the word “bar” I actually meant “pub”. I’ll edit/fix that later.] “Hehe, lets go then.” Malachi replied. He still honestly didn’t have much of a clue of what was going on. He knew though, that with patience, everything would be explained. Like why Samuel sent that shockwave through the wall and door. “Sorry, about that. Cherise is a little headstrong. Isn’t that right my big noble steed.” Malachi yelled back at the men Cherise stepped on as she carried Malachi out of the inn. Malachi warned her to avoid stepping on them, by patting the side of her neck, but she just did not want to. What made it worst off for the men was Cherise was a pretty big horse, she had to be, to be able to let a seven foot one man ride her. Then there was the big gash across their sides and back, presumably from Samuel’s shockwave. “That explains some things.” Malachi said and nodded while his arms were crossed against his chest, and Cherise caught up to Samuel’s side. “I got the horses ready. Er scratch that, horse. There was not more than two. I do not care what anyone said there was only two not three. hehehe” Malachi started off nervously but then his composure returned, “Anyways, I do not remember much between when I found myself in that room, in pain, and when the explosion happen. Not even sure if it’s the same day. Either way something tells me that I may be out of the loop. Care to fill me in?” Malachi finished before a thought dawned on him. Without giving Samuel much time to respond, Malachi started talking again. “We should race. Ready. Set. Cherise lead the way!” And off Cherise went, with Malachi on her back down the street. Malachi had his body up against Cherise, holding on for his dear life, “Oh man we are so winning.” Cherise neighed and started to slow down as they neared the pub. “He might win if we stop so I can get off, just ram through the pub.” Cherise neighed and unsure neigh, “Go on girl I believe in you.” With those words of encouragement, Malachi convinced the horse to keep going at her top speed, without fail, until she collided with the pub’s wooden wall, smashing right through. Of course Cherise jumped before she collided with the wall. After she and Malachi made it through, she landed on some tables and peoples’ bodies. Malachi felt like he missed out earlier, not just about what happen while he was “coping”, but the bar fight. This was his second chance. “Barrr Fight!” Malachi screamed out as he shoot his hands into the air. Cherise started acting wild, jumping around, landing on various tables, chairs, and more people. Malachi pushed himself off. “You have fun girl” Malachi said as he turned his attention elsewhere never noticing the decently size splitter protruding Cherise buttocks. Within seconds a brawl broke out within the pub. Malachi smiled, “Yeaaah, I changed my mind, I rather not participate in bar fight, I just had one, it didn’t end so well for me or the people involved, but you guys have fun.” Malachi scanned the pub, looking for some place to relax while he waited for Samuel to arrive. “Wow everyone is avoiding the bar as if it were a plague.” Malachi said as he approached the bar. Besides the bartender there was one other person at the bar, a man, with a huge bag to the side of him. The way the bag looked, Malachi assumed it was beli coins and the like that were giving the bag it’s odd shape. Malachi sat next to the man, but faced the brawl instead of the bartender like the other man was doing. Malachi turned to his left upon hearing a compliment on the necklace he was wearing, “Thank you.” “I have a friend with a necklace like that.” The man went on to say. “That’s nice.” Malachi politely said back. “His was specially made. Was yours?” the man said curiously. “Not really, it was a gift I gave myself.” “How romantic. I bet it set you back quite a bit.” “Not really, I took it from a quack doc...” As those words left Malachi mouth, something deep down inside him told him he better run. Out of the corner of his eye, Malachi could see the man hands move toward his sword. So Malachi did what any sane man would do in the situation, "Your eyes are weirder than mines." Malachi had never seen violet eyes before, but that was beside the point now for Malachi. Malachi grabbed the beli, and ran for the door, he wasn't much of a thief but he needed beli, lots of it to save his father. And Malachi didn't feel morally wrong doing it either, "You're the guy who took the money from the inn up the street the priest talked about, aren't you?" Malachi said as he ran. Wherever Samuel was now, there was a drill shaped shock wave heading towards the pub door, compliments of Parley. Parley in the flesh
Edited by Spunky Misunderstood Genius, Jun 27 2014, 08:40 PM.
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