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| Last Rites; Freedom Pirates First SL In GL | |||||||||
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| Tweet Topic Started: Feb 19 2017, 09:54 PM (1,404 Views) | |||||||||
| Novama | May 17 2017, 08:47 PM Post #61 | ||||||||
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Morose Morose Music for fights at noon Town and River Dark Priests Crucifixion Example Needle Weapon King/Heusaro Morose immediately began to lead the pair of them out of the plaza and back toward the marketplace. The sun had passed far enough across the sky to offer shade again in the many alley ways Morose led the two of them through. The bodies left by Salas still lay strewn about with a layer of sand beginning to creep up around their forms and dust them lightly. Morose did not pay them no mind. He appeared to be grimly focused on the task at hand aside from the stream of curses uttered from his pale lips. Blood dripped slowly from his hand where it grasped at his side where he was wounded by Queen. Whether it was fear or some other driving force, Morose was greatly motivated to keep moving despite what were likely painful wounds. "I was unable to deal with the ****** stragglers that spotted us in the marketplace fast enough. Half the men with me were killed at least and the other half ran for it. I was unable to pull the kart by myself and I knew you were still alive from all the yelling and crashing and fighting you were doing," Morose said looking back at Salas. Much further back but still in sight was King giving chase. "****....well, it doesn't look like we are in a good situation to be pulling the cart back to the ship right now anyway. We need to lose that guy or defeat him at this point. From what I can tell, he's about as fast as that lady was, at least....he's acting **** confident though. He might be stronger even" The chef analyzed as they hurried. After a while, Morose looked back and still saw King remaining in eye sight with a leisurely grin on his face. Morose worked his mouth, barely getting enough to gulp dryly. He looked back ahead and continued moving. They were nearly to the main street they used to get the cart to the marketplace. Just then, Morose heard the sounds of a goat's bleeting followed by a goat with a bell around its neck running across Morose's path at the head of the alley. A little girl in priest's robes chased after it seemingly trying to catch it. "Keep moving as fast as you can Salas, I have an idea....that'll probably get us killed" Morose said, the last he mumbled to himself. He then disappeared from sight. In the street ahead, the little girl pursued her goat only to run into it suddenly. The goat had stopped, suddenly brought up short by the short rope tied around its neck. Morose held the length of rope with a bloody hand. "girl, I need you to do me a favor. Please get the attention of the priest that comes out from there. Tell him we went that way." Morose tells the girl in a strained voice. He almost sounded angry, but it was likely the pain and fatigue creeping in. They girl looked shocked with wide eyes, but she eventually nodded her head when Morose insisted. He then handed her the rope for her goat. Once Salas appeared, Morose quietly beckoned for him to follow him into a nearby home whose residents were not present. It was the building Morose had climbed earlier that day to get a view of the town. |
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Morose • Chef • Freedom Pirates • Bounty: 13,000,000 • SD Earned: 281 • Beli: 58,010,000 • Location: GrandLine, Little Garden Island | |||||||||
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| ♦ Togamau | May 22 2017, 02:01 AM Post #62 | ||||||||
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Tactics Ogre
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The path through town was strenuous on The Shaman's overtaxed body, compounded with the emotional burden of seeing his grim handiwork and hearing Morose' report that his entire mission had been completely meaningless. "It was for nothing. We slaughtered dozens and still failed to protect Our own... Can Salas do nothing to ease his own heart?" He was only dimly aware of his surroundings from the depths of his personal misery. He knew Morose was ahead of him and Heusaro was behind him and he could hear choice bits of the chef's words, but little else pierced his haze of despair. Salas saw his friend stop, then change directions to enter a building, beckoning to follow. He did. There was no life within the house, that seemed to be the case at least. He couldn't help but wonder if the house would remain vacant today because of him, it was an unwelcome notion. Though his eyes remained distant as they had been since he had returned to his feet, Salas cracked a weak smile at Morose's mention of likely death, tilting his head toward his friend and showing his mildly unsettling expression "heh, Morose... this will not be Our end. Death is too kind a fate for Salas now, living with what We have done is the only fitting punishment for His crimes." His statement was barely a whisper on account of the need for stealth as well as the fact that his ravaged body couldn't raise its voice any higher at that time. As they sat huddled in the vacant house, Salas fidgeted with a fragment of one of the crosses and a bloodied nail that he hadn't even been aware he picked up before. He felt connected to the sense of despair and suffering the objects seemed to symbolize to him and decided to hold onto them. |
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| Novama | May 23 2017, 11:17 AM Post #63 | ||||||||
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Morose Morose Music for fights at noon Town and River Dark Priests Crucifixion Example Needle Weapon King/Heusaro "Glad one of us is optimistic," Morose said rolling his eyes. The little levity that was there was not enough to overcome the overwhelming pressure of their impending doom. Morose visibly sweat from his brow as he cautiously peeked from a covered window. The street was bare except for a few bodies and those mourning them, and the girl with the goat remained. She nervously fidgeted as she handled the goat. Morose's eyes took pronounced notice of the girl's expression and way of holding herself. He turned from the window looking just as grim before, but he moved quicker and with purpose. In the next room of the home, there was a ladder Morose grabbed hold of. His feet did not make a sound as he quietly moved up it to the ceiling where a shut trapdoor waited. Easing the trapdoor open, Morose climbed up onto the roof while staying low. The roof was railed in slightly with a foot tall rise around the corners of the roof, but it was not enough to prevent someone from falling over, jumping off, or hiding unless they were lying down. With knives in a reverse grip in both hands, Morose crawled on knees and elbows toward the edge of the roof to peer down into the street. King eventually came and casually looked around. The girl hesitantly called him over. Morose noticed a sudden odd shift of King's attitude before he presented a smile to the little girl. They spoke for a brief time, King nodding understandingly, the girl pointing and stuttering from obvious anxiety. She did seem to be trying to help, but it was not clear whether King was buying it. Regardless, Morose opted to leap from one roof to a nearby one to get to a more advantageous position over King. Morose was too close to dare look down, so he laid low and stilled his breath to listen intently. "Thank you for your help little one. Continue your prayers and mourning now." Afterward, everything went quiet and the girl with the goat walked away, her goat's bell signaling their departure. Morose continued to listen for a few moments. No additional sound came. It was too quiet. *SMASH* A piece of the roof where Morose had been a moment ago listening was smashed into pieces as a very destructive shockwave ripped through it into the sky. The ceiling became structurally unsound and Morose had to quickly stand and move as the roof began crumbling beneath him. Additional piercing shockwaves ripped through the building just behind Morose's quick steps. "****,*****,****,****,****" Morose repeatedly cursed as he hopped skipped and ran. His steps were not nearly as graceful or carefully placed as before, each one making a sound that seemed to queue another attack from King that threatened to take one of Morose's legs. Right then, Morose had King's attention. The home with a partially opened door to the street with Salas inside was ignored for the moment. Morose made a final leap at the edge of the latest building to the building a narrow street over. The roof collapsed beneath his feet, however, and he was unable to get sufficient purchase. Morose fell forward narrowly grabbing the roof with wounded arms. His extended little body dripped blood to the dusty ground below as he grimaced in pain. A large plume of dust filled the air from the collapsed buildings. Morose was given a moment of reprieve while the dust settled. He did not have the strength to pull himself up so he dropped the 10 feet to the ground and lazily rolled. Laying on his back with his dirty face and clothes to the sky, he breathed hard to catch his breath. His eyes were moist with tears that had no time to be shed, but he was clearly upset and hurt. |
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Morose • Chef • Freedom Pirates • Bounty: 13,000,000 • SD Earned: 281 • Beli: 58,010,000 • Location: GrandLine, Little Garden Island | |||||||||
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| ♦ Togamau | May 24 2017, 01:25 AM Post #64 | ||||||||
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Tactics Ogre
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Salas couldn't hide his worry as Morose moved upstairs and he heard the sound of a trap door opening and closing. The chef was going outside to scout for danger, it was necessary, but nerve wracking nonetheless. At the time, the Shaman stayed put, conserving his strength and listening; if he went outside their presence would be too obvious. Morose would be more likely to go undetected. He told himself this to fight the urge to follow. He closed his eyes. Then he heard the crash. Eyes snapping open in alarm, Salasais went to the window and barely saw chunks of a nearby roof flying off with force from below. Then a louder crash as the rest of the roof collapsed on itself and a big dust cloud erupted from the building! In nothing short of a panic, the Shaman threw the door open and dashed into the alley to look for any sign of his comrade. If his only friend had died just like that, he would not be able to bear it, he had to find him and get away. In response to his fear, the moss on his back once again wound into the form of arms, feeling along the ground to find the chef as quickly as possible. Amid the dust, he found his friend lying motionless on his back and immediately rushed to his side. He was hurt, and had clearly fallen from an unpleasant height on top of it all. There was no sign of The Father yet, and that was good, but there was nowhere near enough time to tend to the injuries with the murderous priest unaccounted for. "Be still, We will escape together. Salas is not strong enough to lose Morose now." With his mortal arm, he drew out the terrible needle once more to unnaturally preserve his strength, albeit for only a short time. He injected it into his side again, feeling the absence of pain and soreness set in as his brain ignored all demands of his body and forced it beyond its limits. The moss arms quickly and carefully lifted the chef off the ground and pulled him snugly to the shaman's back as he took off leaping and bounding with an urgency not displayed in him before. Speeding through the alleys with all his might, all out sprinting for longer than he even had the strength to. In his superhuman haste, he had nearly reached the edge of the city before the drug wore off. When it did, he immediately collapsed to the ground, crashing and burning face first without catching himself as he gasped for breath. Many of his wounds were reopened by the extreme exertion and he had worked his body far beyond the limits of exhaustion and could not push himself another step. Techniques Used
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| Novama | May 24 2017, 11:21 AM Post #65 | ||||||||
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Morose Morose Music for fights at noon Town and River Example Needle Weapon King/Heusaro Morose looked away from Salas as a tear nearly escaped one of his eyes. He wore the petulant lips of a child and his eyes easily showed their disappointment in his self. The jolting of being carried while Salas ran, occasionally made Morose wince. However, he did not grumble or mutter a word. His breathing steadied before taking deeper breaths and spending moments with eyes closed. He was focusing; preparing himself for what was to come. Salas was fast, but not overly stealthy. It was easy enough for Morose to look back and know they were being pursued although it looked as though King did not readily reveal himself as he had before. "****" Morose said breaking the tension. Looking forward to see the edge of town, Morose suddenly felt weightless as Salas fell causing Morose to fly forward unexpectantly. Hitting the ground in a ball and then rolling over and over in the dirt, Morose coughed on the dirt and shakily stood with knives in hand again. They, like his arms, were already red with blood. Morose did not see King, nor could he hear him coming. There was no sound to be heard at that time in the afternoon. All the wailing and crying that had been down earlier that day stopped some time ago. Morose stood in disbelief, but he composed himself with a grim knowing in his eyes. Morose suddenly swung one of his arms in a wide arc behind him before leaping forward and away. *SHINK* went the sound of metal on metal as Morose's blade collided with one of King's needles. King looked ruefully at Morose while Morose glared back at him. "Don't suppose you would be willing to let us go now, would you?" Morose asked without the hint of hope in the request. King went back to smiling like the kind father and shook his head. "Thought so, well ****" Morose groaned as he tensed his pained and achy body. His face and lips were looking especially pale while his shirt looked exceptionally tattered and red. A small breeze passed between them, raising a bit of dust and tugging at their clothes and hair. Morose didn't feel it. The next moment would decide things. Suddenly, Morose noticed him and King looked surprised as he turned his head to look as well. "You've done quite enough, Father Huesaro." came the aged voice of Father Mosandro from behind him. Father Mosandro "You are still alive? I was assured you were taken care of." King asked incredulously, backing away from Mosandro and seemingly completely forgetting Morose for the moment. "I am, thanks in part to these young men," Mosandro replied, nodding a sage head to Morose and Salas. "I see you no longer have your subordinates to protect you. It would seem the time has come for you to relinquish that which was granted and misused. May our mourning usher you into what's next." Mosandro said half in prayer as he clasped his hands together before holding one out to King. The father's hand began to glow a golden color. King had a look of panic as he abruptly turned and attempted to flee. As if ripped out of the air, King's speed was stripped from him and he stumbled forward, the gold aura appearing around him similar to the one that had enveloped Queen and Bishop. "NO,NO,NO,NO!!!" He cried as he stumbled away, his steps becoming heavier with each footfall. Nearly out of sight, he finally collapsed. He would not rise. Father Mosandro returned his hands together and bowed a head as if in prayer. He then turned to the freedom pirates. "You have done more than you could possibly know for this island, and here I am, an old man who had only been running and hiding in fear from the trouble I caused. While you may not wish it, you may stay here for a time to recover and refresh. It is the least we could do for what you have done." Morose hid a confused expression and exchanged it for one of forced composure. "We need food and supplies." Morose legs trembled as he forced them to keep him upright. |
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Morose • Chef • Freedom Pirates • Bounty: 13,000,000 • SD Earned: 281 • Beli: 58,010,000 • Location: GrandLine, Little Garden Island | |||||||||
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| ♦ Togamau | May 25 2017, 04:26 PM Post #66 | ||||||||
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Tactics Ogre
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Everything had gone dark. Salas wasn't aware of whether he was alive or dead nor, more importantly, whether or not he had succeeded in removing Morose from the dangers inside the city. He hadn't been acting rationally, he knew that much, but at least he could feel in his bones that he hadn't gone on another rampage if only because he didn't have enough strength remaining to move. He woke up in an unfamiliar room, his body tightly secured to a bed. For a brief instant, he panicked and strained against his bonds until he suddenly realized that his body had been properly bandaged and, although everything still hurt considerably, his abundant wounds had been cleaned and restitched. Someone had taken him in and mended him, while apparently taking reasonable precautions, and that only raised more questions. Last he had seen, the only civilized area close by was the city he was trying to escape and as far as he knew they had no reason to do anything besides kill him for bringing disaster to them. It would be revealed when the doctors returned that despite the loss of innocent lives, Salas' attack against King's servants and assassins had opened the way for the city's return to peace. Nobody looked particularly happy, but that seemed to be the norm for these people. The assurance that Morose was alive as well and working out the matter of a reward for driving out the fanatical assassins was enough to put The Shaman at some level of ease, though he was still far from comfortable in this place and avoided making eye contact or speaking to anyone until he returned to the ship. Even if they could forgive him for his actions, it would be some time before he could forgive himself for it, if ever. Forgot to post this tech in the last post
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| Novama | May 26 2017, 01:10 PM Post #67 | ||||||||
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Morose Morose Music for Leaving CactusIsland and friends behind Town and River Example Needle Weapon Morose stood over some recently made graves outside of the town. It was a warm day with a warm breeze that whipped Morose's new cloak. He did not sweat. His composure was unbroken, his sleepy eyes lazily looking between the graves. Marked with slender tombstones that were little wider than the needle weapons that killed them, the freedom pirates that were slain would rest in peace at least. It was mid-morning when some of the priests dressed in their plain priest robes came out to mourn the newcomers along with the many victims of the massacre that took place not long ago. The priests slowed their pace when they noticed Morose. They looked intimidated for a moment. Morose took the moment to walk away. He was done anyway. His clothes had been reduced to bloody rags during the incident, so he took to wearing the practical if plain dark garb of the assassin priests. While the collar and oddly shaped neckless served no purpose to him and was left out, he was easily mistaken for one of Heusaro's sect of dark priests. Morose didn't think so however since he took the time to add glitter and sparkle to the garb's dark fabrics. Morose left the town behind and returned to the Freedom Ship anchored not far from the town now. While the dark priest sect that remained pulled out of town, the remaining priests were still obliging and helpful despite all that happened. The chef noted the amount of cargo strapped to the deck and easily accessible below deck near his galley. They had supplies that would last them for some time. Morose smiled faintly as he took off his traveling cloak and tied on the apron. The freedom crew was pleased to have their chef aboard again to cook for them. Morose was content to dive into the work again as well. It was something that could be done without making one feel guilty. The Freedom Ship weighed anchor and set sail once again. No one waved them off or said goodbye, but it was one of the first times they were able to leave an island without being under gun or cannon fire. The spirits of the men had risen despite everything, and it looked like the Freedom Ship would continue on as if nothing had happened. Morose saw Salas. Despite the morale of the crew and the pleasure Morose felt and displayed with cooking for everyone, it was apparent something had been left behind and changed for the 2 strongest members of the freedom pirates. This was only the beginning of more changes to come for the Freedom Crew in the grand line... End |
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Morose • Chef • Freedom Pirates • Bounty: 13,000,000 • SD Earned: 281 • Beli: 58,010,000 • Location: GrandLine, Little Garden Island | |||||||||
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| ♦ InvadingAlex | Jun 5 2017, 06:45 AM Post #68 | ||||||||
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OPRP Peasant
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Thank you for your patience. Your storyline has been reviewed.
SL Notes
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RIO BORLIN ARSTEEL TALLARN
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1:45 AM Jul 11