Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Admiral Moskau
Raw
OP
Avatar of Admiral Moskau

Admiral Moskau An Admiral of the Binary Seas

Member Seen 4 yrs ago

Dearest Reader,

Please pardon the works in progress...
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Admiral Moskau
Raw
OP
Avatar of Admiral Moskau

Admiral Moskau An Admiral of the Binary Seas

Member Seen 4 yrs ago



Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Admiral Moskau
Raw
OP
Avatar of Admiral Moskau

Admiral Moskau An Admiral of the Binary Seas

Member Seen 4 yrs ago

Absolute Comics: The Vixen, Issue 1: Once Upon A Dakota Night


Location: Liberty Street, Dakota City
Time: 21.00

"I'm talking to a spider."

"Not just any spider kiddo," The spider sitting on her shoulder replied in a low whisper, his voice heavy with barely contained laughter. She'd missed the joke.

"Clearly," Mari irreverently mused as she pondered what form of fatal psychosis she was currently suffering from. Holding her hands in front of her, she stared with wonder at the claws that had replaced her finger nails. She was no psychiatrist, but she was fairly certain you had to be all kinds of crazy to think that you had razor-sharp, feline claws. Talking spiders were a whole other ballgame, but one she didn't want to think about at the moment. The spider, Mr. Nancy, as he called himself, had promised her that she could definitely, probably, cut through steel with her claws. Provided she hit hard enough. As long as she believed. The souped up reflexes that made her feel like she'd just ingested an ungodly amount of Speed were supposed to help. At least in theory. Mari hated the pompous spider already. At least some of the time. She had to admit the cat eyes were pretty cool, she'd always wanted to be able to see in the dark.

"Check yourself, before you wreck yourself, Mari," Nancy teased. "I'm the one that is going to help you make something of yourself. Oh, the chance that I have given you! The power, the unlimited power! You owe me. Be grateful!"

"I don't owe you shit, bug eyes. You're the one that got me into this mess. You're the one who's going to get me killed." Mari hissed back, fidgeting with the metallic lighter that she kept tucked in the back pocket of her jeans. She'd quit smoking, usually, mostly, maybe. But the lighter mattered, it meant something. It reminded her of Sarah. It kept her focused. It kept her mad. It kept her claws sharp and her teeth ready.

Hiding in the dark, she had flattened herself against the wall of the alley. She'd fought off the urge to throw up several times already and she was worried that the skateboard she had carefully hidden behind a mountain of garbage cans might have become a bio-hazard. The smell of several weeks worth of rotting garbage burned her eyes and a puddle of ominous fluid threatened her shoes. Someone had forgotten to bribe the local trash racket. It was a personal tragedy for Mari, given her temporarily enhanced sense of smell. Mr. Nancy had called it a minor problem, a side effect of her inability to fully control her abilities. He'd told her that he expected her to do better next time. He'd alluded to bear claws, shark teeth, and wings. Mari had no idea what he meant. But it felt impossible to refuse him or to shut him out. The spider had a way with words and there was a strange power in the stories that he told her. She could almost feel the webs that he wove in the shadows and the silk strings that pulled at her limbs.

"I can't have my chosen servant wasting her powers. You've got to prove yourself worthy of my gifts. You have to earn my advice."

"You want me to prove myself? To a spider? Couldn't you just have asked me to catch a fly? That seems like something a spider would want to see."

"I'm not a spider. I shouldn't have to keep telling you that. Besides, I have bigger, juicier prey in mind for you, my young friend."

"Did you forget the part where drug dealers have guns, lots of guns?"

"You want help? Then let me tell you a story-"

Mari groaned, wishing for a swift death. It had only been a month, but she was already tired of the chatty spider and what he saw as valuable advice.

"Once upon a time in Gotham, a man, a man far more mundane than you, dressed up like a bat, a giant bat, and fought crime one punch at a time as a nocturnal detective. Now how is that for a story?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever you say Nancy," Mari replied with an unapologetic roll of her eyes. She was glad the ski mask she had brought still permitted her some level of expression. "Next you're going to tell me that's there's a long-lost civilization in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean."

"Well, now that you mention it..."

"Nancy, just tell me what you want."

"I want you to do the right thing."

"You want me to punch a drug dealer in his stupid face?"

"I want you to punch several drug dealers in their stupid faces."

"Hey Nancy," Mari said flicking the metallic lighter shut in a swift motion.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck you."

"That's the spirit, Mari. Channel that rage. Now go! There's your chance! Your only chance!" Nancy shouted as the street lights flickered, then suddenly died along with power to the rest of the city block.




Stalking through the pitch black apartment, Mari did her best not to think of the fresh blood that coated her claws. She fought to control her ragged breathing, desperately sucking in gasps of air like a fish plucked out of the water. Barrels of industrial grade chemicals surround her and a faint smell of ammonia seeped through the battered blue plastic. Nancy had said it would be easy. He'd called it a test run. She tried not to think about the kid she'd left tied up in the alley. She tried not to think of how easily she'd cut him with her claws. She tried not to think of how easily he'd bled. She tried not to think.

"Nancy, can you hear me?" Mari whispered. Her hands ran idly over the Molotov Cocktail she'd liberated from the kid. She wasn't an arsonist, but a little bit of property damage for the great good never hurt anybody. She'd saved the smokes for later. They were tucked safely in her jacket. She would need them. After it was all over. She'd make an exception. Just once, just for the night. A reward was in order.

She felt the hairs on her neck rising. She felt afraid. Something was wrong. She saw the wires then. The red light blinking impassively at her. Drug dealers didn't have silent alarms. They didn't have infrared cameras.

"Of course I can hear you."

"I fucking told you this was a bad idea." Mari gestured angrily at the window she'd so carefully pried open. "And that, that was a fucking alarm."

"Yes, you should have been more careful.

"I- I should have been more careful? Listen to me...wait," Mari said as her eyes widened with panic. "This isn't meth."

"No, it's not."

Mari did not need to turn to look at the spider to know that he was smiling, "Then what is?"

"I'm not sure, not yet. It's something new. It's something clever. Something very clever. It's something very interesting. It's tied to this "Big Bang" the locals keep on yammering about."

Thundering steps, that seemed to shake the foundation of the building itself interrupted Mari's anger,"What the fuck was that?"

"That's the cavalry."

"Calvary?"

"Their cavalry. I told you not to waste time. You don't have very much of it."

"You motherfu-"

"Duck."

Mari hugged the ground and watched as a rusted boiler sailed past where her head had been.

"What the fuck did you do?"

"I told you, baby, I'm shipping you straight up to the big leagues. No more amateur hour."

Mari could hear the spider laughing as threw herself to the side. Too slowly. Much too slowly. The concrete hand that cracked the side of her chest was a surprise for both of them, and for once, the spider was silent. Mari was not thinking when she dug a clawed hand into the floor. The socket of her shoulder screamed with pain and she tumbled, but it kept her in the game and it kept her alive. Regaining her balance, Mari caught herself in a low crouch. Rolling to the side, she caught a glancing blow to her jaw, sending her hurtling to the ground again.

"Get up. Run. Now!" the trickster commanded as a panel of drywall next to her exploded into a fine cloud of gypsum and rotting wood.

Spitting out blood and flecks of faded paint in equal measure, Mari let out a low, pained groan. A figure walked towards her in the darkness. Unaffected by the shadows, it crashed forward, shaking the crumbling floor with each step. Uncaring and unmoved, it stopped in front of her. An inhuman creature of cement and blackened asphalt, it towered over her with a fist raised menacingly over its head. Pausing, it flashed a smile of fractured stone in Mari's direction. She couldn't tell what it was saying. She didn't care, not really. Whatever it was saying, it sounded foreign, it sounded strange. She could tell it was gloating. It was laughing at her. It was taunting her. It was mocking her.

She felt angry. She felt her lips moving back to bare freshly sharpened teeth. It wasn't ready. It didn't think that the cornered animal still had fight left in it. She returned the favor, launching herself to her feet, raking the claws of her right hand across its face. She darted out of the way of the blind, furious strikes that followed, slipping beneath the thick arms of stone that chased her. Dancing out of range, Mari risked a glance at her claws and frowned. There wasn't any blood, just a sticky, black tar that burned her claws with irritation.

Dodging a blow that would have caved her head in, Mari struck again, sending sparks into the darkness as she buried her claws into the chest of the monster. Flailing the creature sent her tumbling into a row of plastic barrels with a distracted punch.

Rocking to her feed, Mari grinned. She could hear the mass of concrete roaring in pain. She could sense the growing weakness of her prey. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She felt alive. She felt so alive. She could taste blood. And it felt good, so good.

"Angry is good, angry gets shit done," Nancy said. "But you don't have time to play with your food. Not anymore. Finish this."

Mari heard a door slam open and boots, heavy boots racing up the stairs. At least a dozen pairs. Too many. Far too many. She could smell the cordite. She could hear the shouted orders.

"Let the motherfucker burn," Nancy cackled, pointing a hairy limb the direction at the cloth wicked bottle full of gasoline.

Cutting into a barrel, Mari tossed it at the creature, dowsing the monster in chemicals as it smashed the weakened plastic. It roared in frustration, trying to wipe off the volatile chemicals that had begun to fizzle against its skin, filling the room with putrid smoke. Coughing, Mari rolled to the side and stayed low to the ground, shifting forward on all fours.

"Let...the...motherfucker...burn," Mari echoed as the lighter appeared in her hand. Opening it with a flick of her wrist, she held it against the soaked rag of petrol, and spun the wheel, summoning a flame of fire. Watching the rag ignite, Mari smiled, and then tossed the improvised incendiary device towards the creature.

The bottle shattered in an explosion of glass and fire. Flames enveloped the monstrous figure as it howled in rage and threw itself violently across the small room, crashing into a wall as it tried to extinguish the flames that climbed over it. Thrashing its limbs with growing desperation, the creature lurched madly, painfully forward, trying to catch the young vigilante in its burning arms.

Mari could hear it roar as she threw herself out the window and rolled onto the fire escape. She panicked and stumbled on twisted metal. Losing her footing, Mari crashed against the rusted railing. Crying out in pain, Mari slumped forward, clutching her battered side with a loud sob. Thick tendrils of black smoke poured out of the room and Mari dragged herself forward, struggling to breath as she descended. She could feel the overpowering heat chasing after her. She knew there was no time. The blaze was growing by the second, and she wasn't sure how long before it reached the barrels of chemicals.

Mari hit the ground hard and managed a graceful fall against the wall of the building. Heaving, she retched, feeling the smoke tearing at her lungs with each breath. Grabbing the skateboard from where she had left it, Mari began to limp away.

"Mission accomplished," Nancy cheerfully exclaimed, once more perched on her shoulder. "But next time, try not to get so banged up."

Mari turned to glare at him, wordlessly pulling the ski mask off her face and tossing it into the fire. Leaving the burning brownstone behind them, the pair faded quietly into the night.

---

"What happened here, Miss Johnson?"

"Fell," Mari replied motionlessly, gesturing at the battered skateboard propped in a chair next to her. "Fucked up. Lost my balance. Ate some asphalt. Cried. You know, a standard day in the life of a professional adventurer."

"Right, and the smoke inhalation?"

"So I had a smoke, fucking sue me, Doc. It's a free country."

"Um, that's not what I meant, it seems like-"

"Yeah, well just drop it. I'm paying you by the minute and no one is riding your ass about that Egg McMuffin you had for breakfast, now are they?"

"Uh, right, sure," the young doctor said with a desperate smile. He ran a hand nervously through his hair and shifted his attention to the x-ray image next to him, "Well, either way, you got very lucky, Miss Johnson. You only managed to bruise a couple of ribs. Hurts like the Dickens, but there's really not much to be done about it. However, I'd advise you to take it easy for a couple of days. No late night skating sessions or BBQs," he added with a grating chuckle that left Mari shaking her head.
Doc," Mari began, sliding off of the examination table and slipping her t-shirt back on.

"Yes?"

"Painkillers, just give me some fucking painkillers, and send me on my merry-fucking way."

---

"This is Christina Martinez with Dakota 7 Eyewitness News reporting live at 757 Liberty Street, where last night, a historic brownstone burned down in a freak fire that is believed to have started as a result of faulty electrical wiring undertaken as part of recently begun renovations intended to restore the so-called Blackthorn residence to its former glory... Deputy Fire Commissioner Thomas Campbell has said that a full investigation will be conducted...No fatalities occurred as a result of the fire, but several injuries were reported..."
Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Admiral Moskau
Raw
OP
Avatar of Admiral Moskau

Admiral Moskau An Admiral of the Binary Seas

Member Seen 4 yrs ago

Absolute Comics: The Vixen, Issue 2: Thinking About You


Location: Washington Avenue, Dakota City

Time: 7.00 PM




"I'm thinking about you, and the things that you do to me. That make me love you. I'm thinking about you."

Pulling off the battered headphones, Mari rolled out of her bed with a loud groan. She clutched her side warily as she gingerly stretched out her back. The last of her painkillers had faded and pain pulsed outwards from her bruised rib. Rippling waves of agony swept over her, reminding her of her encounter with the asphalt monster. The bruises had faded faster than she'd expected. She'd asked Nancy but he'd provided no honest answers. He'd simply winked and said it was a perk of the job. Mari wasn't sure that she believed in magic, not yet, but she felt certain there was something going on. Nancy was an asshole, but more importantly he was a schemer, she knew he was only telling her part of the story. She would have worried more, if she wasn't focused on revenge. She wasn't going to let some glorified piece of asphalt show her up.

"Concrete face really did a number on you, did he?" Nancy jeered.

"I'll live," Mari hissed back between clenched teeth.

"Of course you will, we still have work to do," the spider whimsically replied from his perch at the end of her bed.

"How about we take a rain check on that."

"Oh there ain't no rest for the wicked, sweetheart."

"Don't call me that."

"What shall I call you then?"

"Mari, Mari is fine."

"No, no. That won't do. You need a nom de guerre. Something with flash. Something that resonates with the masses. Like that kid, Static."

"Who?"

"Another neophyte. A colleague."

"Another idiot with a mask?"

"Sure, you could say that. You'll meet him soon enough. We've just got to follow the plan."

"Whatever, fuck your plan. How about you just tell me why I'm awake instead?"

"Beyond it being evening?"

"I need my beauty rest."

"Well, no time for that my dear apprentice, my web has been tingling, I can feel it. We have an appointment."

"An appointment with who?"

"An appointment with some new friends."

"Friend friends or friends-with-guns-who-aren't-really-friends-at-all?"

"The latter of course," Nancy replied with a Cheshire Cat grin.




Mari dove beneath the wide, clumsy swing of the bat. They were so slow, so weak. Dancing forward in a blur of motion, she raked her claws cross across the right arm of the bat-wielding hooligan. The bat cluttered to the ground and the hoodlum staggered backwards, disarmed, and clutching his arm. His face was painted a shade of white, equal parts fear and pain, and it filled Mari with an unfamiliar feeling of pleasure. She could smell the blood that dripped onto the pavement.

"Pick it up," Mari commanded, kicking the bat towards him. His eyes darted towards the other scumbag that lay sprawled across the pavement, but he made not move to pick up the bat.

"Don't play with your food," Nancy chided. She didn't want to listen to him. She'd listened to him enough. He'd told her to be discreet, to be cautious, to take things slow. She didn't see the point. He'd asked her to make some new friends, to make some noise. She was going to do this her way. More importantly, she was enjoying herself. She felt in command. She could smell the fear emanating from the wannabe-gangster as she began to slowly circle him. It felt good, so good.

"Tiny, step back, I'll handle this," a woman's voice said. She could smell the burning ashes as the door to the trap house slammed shut.

Mari eyed the woman that stepped forward into the street light lazily. She yawned loudly and fidgeted with her ski mask, "I'm not here for you, any of you. I just need you to call for help. I need you to get me the concrete man. I've been thinking about him."

"How about I just kill you instead?" The woman offered, spitting onto the pavement.

"You can try."
Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Admiral Moskau
Raw
OP
Avatar of Admiral Moskau

Admiral Moskau An Admiral of the Binary Seas

Member Seen 4 yrs ago

Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Admiral Moskau
Raw
OP
Avatar of Admiral Moskau

Admiral Moskau An Admiral of the Binary Seas

Member Seen 4 yrs ago

Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Admiral Moskau
Raw
OP
Avatar of Admiral Moskau

Admiral Moskau An Admiral of the Binary Seas

Member Seen 4 yrs ago

Absolute Comics: The Vixen, Issue 3: Все идет по плану


Location: Washington Avenue, Dakota City

Time: 8.00 PM




The blade cut through Mari's jacket like a hot knife cutting through a jacket that was made out of butter rather than leather. It was a tragic sign of how far the once proud garment industry had fallen. Thrift store leather just wasn't the same, it wasn't the armor Mari needed, not anymore. Worse still, the cold kiss of steel against her shoulder was a bitter reminder that she'd been too slow. Searing pain faded to familiar numbness as Mari darted out of range of the machete. She'd messed up. She'd fucked up. She'd been cut, but the wound to her ego was far deeper. Some random mook wasn't supposed to get the better of her and certainly wasn't supposed to make her bleed. She had standards to live up to and irritating spider deities to keep quiet.

"You're bleeding," Nancy lazily drawled from somewhere in the darkness.

"I know."

"That was sloppy," the spider added in a sing song voice, lowering himself down from a nearby street light by a thin thread of spiderweb. "You won't last long if you keep this up."

"I fucking know," Mari hissed between gritted teeth as she tossed her jacket aside. She needed to be able to move, she needed to be faster. She was done playing.

"If you're done talking to yourself, then let's finish this," the woman taunted twirling the bloodied machete in a figure eight in front of her. "I've got better things to do with my time than to fight some masked idiot."

"Fine by me," Mari agreed, circling closer.

Launching herself forward, Mari swung wide with the claws of her right hand. She caught fabric and threw herself aside to avoid the blade that whistled past her in reply.

Catching the blade with a leathery hand covered in thick scales, Mari flashed a winning smile before she smashed her clinched fist repeatedly into her opponent's face. The sickening crunch and blood that followed made it clear that she'd hit her mark. A broken nose made fighting hard and made it far easier for her to subdue an enterprising criminal hellbent on fighting to the death. Mari wasn't much for killing and she needed answers which meant she needed at least one of the scumbags to be conscious.

"Bet you didn't see that coming, did ya, Miss Big Knife," Mari huffed, tossing the machete into a pile of garbage.

---

"Concrete face, where is he?" Mari asked, slamming the woman face first against the nearest wall. A wet smack followed, the sound of flesh meeting unmoving brick, and blood splattering onto concrete. Mari hesitated. Interrogations had never been her strong suit. She took no pleasure in the suffering of her prey. It was the thrill of the hunt that drove her. A need matched only by her desire to clean up the streets, to act when others would not, in the forgotten neighborhoods where the cops and capes would never venture. Not before the city was burning. Not before it was too late.

"Don't worry about it-"

"What's that? Speak up."

"The name's Tarmack not Concrete Face," a deep voice full of gravel and rocks boomed, accompanied by the rasping laughter of the unnamed woman.

"Fuck," Mari managed.

Mari was prepared for the flying improvised projectiles, but she wasn't expecting a gunfight, and the rounds of 9 millimeter parabellum that came racing towards her sent her diving behind a wooden barrier for cover. The heavy hammer like thud of the gun firing in her direction sent Mari scrambling towards a simple block of concrete. The 124 grain hollow points propelled at more than 1200 feet per second easily punched through the thin wood, smashing into the wall behind her. Covering her head with her arms, Mari pushed herself closer to the ground.

"God dammit, Tiny, no guns, I said no guns," Tarmack roared over the shooting, slamming a great fist down on an innocent dumpster that exploded in a cloud of recently recycled plastic. Mari heard a loud thud, a lower scream, and peaked her head over the wooden barrier to see the gunman collapsed on the sidewalk. The giant hands of the concrete monster loomed above his prone form and Mari could hear the big man hurling insults at the his unconscious colleague.

Mari could hear the sirens getting closer. Burning buildings and gunshots tended to cause a scene. Pyrotechnics attracted the sort of crowd she preferred to avoid. Firefighters, EMTs, and cops, lots of cops, lots of cops with guns.

"И Все идет по плану. Все идет по плану," Nancy sang as Mari dodged a burning car that came crashing to the ground in front of her before somersaulting through a glass bus stop that shattered into a mixture of glass, demolished car parts, and burning petrochemicals.

"What's that?" Mari panted.

"And everything is going according to plan. Everything is going according to plan," Nancy repeated in the same unfamiliar language. But this time the words made sense. Mari could understand him.

"Great plan, really great plan, Nancy," Mari growled back, stumbling down the alley, desperately trying to keep her feet moving. "I love the part where it ends with me getting my head smashed in by a fucking pile of sentient asphalt or shot by some trigger happy cop that thinks I'm gonna disintegrate him with my laser eyes."

"Just trust me."

"Trust you?"

"Trust me."

"Why should I trust you?"

"Because tonight, my dear girl, I'm going to teach you how to fly."

---

Weaving through traffic, Officer Mikhailov, respected ten year veteran of the Dakota PD raced towards the scene of the latest crime. He had no real bead on the situation. All he'd gotten from dispatch was chaos. Multiple fires. Multiple casualties. Gunshots reported. Metahumans. Mikhailov could feel the sweat running down his brow. Protect and serve, sure. He knew the drill. His father had been a cop, his father had been a cop, countless generations of Mikhailov's had worn the Blue since the family had come to the country. Mikhailov knew his duty. He could feel it in the marrow of his bones. But, he hadn't signed up to fight monsters. What good was a gun against a metahuman?

Mikahilov did not see the large crow that came flying out of an adjacent alley until it was almost too late. He slammed his brakes and let out a string of curses as he fought against the wheel. He juked his patrol car to the right, preying that there were no pedestrians on the sidewalk. The row of trash cans that he barreled into sent week old garbage flying across his windshield and his car careening into the wall of the nearest building.

Drawing his firearm and stepping out of his car in a swift, well-practiced motion, Mikahilov found himself standing in the aftermath of a battle. An entire block's worth of cars lay scattered across the streets and sidewalks around him. Two crumbling buildings roared with flames and a third threatened to follow. Tied to a mailbox he found two people. A young man with a deep cut on his arm and a woman who looked liked she taken quite the beating. Her nose was certainly broken and he didn't doubt that she was missing some teeth.

Sighing loudly, Mikahilov gazed at the growing inferno. He hoped the fire department were putting the pedal to the metal, they wouldn't have much time. Removing his cap, Mikahilov brought his radio to the his mouth,"Dispatch, this is Officer Mikahilov, how about next time you send me into a war zone, you give me a bigger gun."
Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Admiral Moskau
Raw
OP
Avatar of Admiral Moskau

Admiral Moskau An Admiral of the Binary Seas

Member Seen 4 yrs ago

Teg (Cora)

Post 1


Teg's head was pounding. She'd spent the day and night of respite that Maria had generously offered them, resting. Which meant that she had been drinking and gambling at a prodigious pace usually only matched by those facing an imminent and gruesome death. In a matter of hours she'd managed to gamble away at least a months worth of credits in the backroom parlor of an undoubtedly illegal bar filled to the brim with pirates. Drunk off of some strange beverage that the passed as drinkable to the Glao, she'd accused no less than three of her fellow revelers of cheating and almost started a gunfight before the bartender had politely asked her to put her pistol away. Teg reflected with a smile that it was the shotgun that he was pointing at her head that really sold it. A round of drinks bought with the last of her credits settled the matter and Teg left the bar in the early morning in search of food certain that she had made several new friends.

Broke, still drunk, and full of joy Teg had thus returned to the ship well after breakfast. She noted with great pride that her attire was only a bit ruffled and that she hadn't even lost her hat. In a tragedy of epic proportions, Teg's dreams of sleep were unfortunately shattered when the Captain grabbed her the second she boarded the ship. Muttering dark threats and mentioning the value of haste, the Captain had assigned her to the loading party. Teg felt certain that loading heavy crates of dubious legality had never been part of the original job pitch, but she knew all to well that there was no strong union of space mercenaries to shoulder her righteous cause. She would have to suffer quietly yet again.

Struggling with a crate full of what she felt was the heaviest ammunition the she could reasonably remember ever having carried, Teg only vaguely listened to what the Captain and Socket were discussing. It was too early in the morning for talking, especially loud talking. However, the mention of a guest set electric charges of recognition surging through the alcohol addled synapses of her brain.

"Tall, creepy looking dude with a suit of metal armor?" Teg began, happily dropping the crate of ammunition with a loud bang. Turning towards the Captain and Socket, Teg lazily scratched the back of her neck and perched lightly atop the crate. "Yeah, I saw him. He was sharpening his blades and staring daggers at a cup of coffee in the mess hall. I'm not sure if he knows it's for drinking. Someone should probably make sure that he doesn't murder Kev. Or more importantly stop him before he decides to interrogate our coffee," she added with a shrug of her shoulders.
Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Admiral Moskau
Raw
OP
Avatar of Admiral Moskau

Admiral Moskau An Admiral of the Binary Seas

Member Seen 4 yrs ago

Nemeia

Post 1



"Nem of the Shield Brethren?" a voice loudly asked as the door to the small tea house was thrown wide open, ushering in unwelcome rays of far too bright sunshine.

"Yes, yes," Nem irritably replied with a dismissive wave of a hand. Her red eyes did not leave the small carved figures that lined the painted wooden board that lay on the table in front of her and she made no effort to acknowledge the new arrival, hopeful that he would leave if she just ignored him.

A well-practiced cough followed, dashing her hopes,"Nem the Adventurer, your presence is requested at the guild hall."

"Can it wait?" Nem tersely asked, unwilling to relinquish the victory she sensed was nearly at hand.

"Afraid not. We're almost late as it stands. It wasn't easy to find you," the guild runner chided, wiping the sweat from his brow with a sleeve of his dust covered shirt.

"I wasn't expecting to be summoned," Nem glowered.

"You and me both, sister," the guild runner began in agreement, his eyes glazing over with fond memories of recent, happier times. "There I was with a half a flagon of mead and a pretty enough girl when–"

Interrupting the guild runner mid monologue with a raised hand and defeated sigh, Nem pushed her chair away from the table. Moving to stand, she grabbed her two handed sword, and offered an apologetic nod towards her puzzled opponent. The arrival of the guild runner had saved the old merchant from a humiliating loss, but Nem would not forget. She would have her victory, one day or another, she could only be distracted for so long.

Stepping into the bright daylight, Nem approached the guild runner, "It's unusual for them to summon adventurers on such short notice, do you know why they asked for me?"

"No, you know they don't tell me much, sister," the guild runner offered apologetically. "Just what I need to know to do my job. Between you and me though, this one seemed important."

"Important? Important, how?"

"Seems the guild master asked for you by name. You and some other adventurers. Don't ask me who, it was hard enough to remember your name. I'm sure you'll be fine."

Following lightly in the footsteps of the man as he lead her towards the guild hall, weaving through crowded streets, Nem made no effort to hide the small smile that took form on her lips. It had been too long since her last proper adventure.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Admiral Moskau
Raw
OP
Avatar of Admiral Moskau

Admiral Moskau An Admiral of the Binary Seas

Member Seen 4 yrs ago

Nemeia

Post 2



In a deliberate, slow motion, the big man leaned his head forward and spat onto the floor in Nemeia's direction.

"Nothin' for you here."
One Who Tames


Nem could not be certain what it was that had so angered the grizzled looking guild officer, but she did have her suspicions. The Lowlands, despite the pleasant weather, were not generally a welcoming place for those touched by the infernal planes. In the Highlands and along the Swamp Road she had been viewed with a healthy dose of caution for her features. Her curved horns, her red eyes, and her tail, had drawn unwanted attention, but she had been tolerated. She had been seen as a tame monster, a useful if not necessary evil. Another friendly blade was more important than the appearance of the wielder in the untamed parts of Terrenum. However, in the South, in the fertile Lowlands, in the heart of civilization, she was hated, and she was feared.

The young tiefling knew better than to respond in anger. A guild member did not draw their weapons against a fellow guild member, no matter how tempting the prospect might be.

"This token and the runner that you dismissed say otherwise," Nem said, holding up the stylized copper symbol of the guild to the light cast by one of the windows. "I'm here at the behest of the Guild Master, not you."
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Admiral Moskau
Raw
OP
Avatar of Admiral Moskau

Admiral Moskau An Admiral of the Binary Seas

Member Seen 4 yrs ago

Nemeia

Post 3


Nem pretended to carefully study the elaborate silver medallion that the scarred man wore. Focusing on the details of the amulet was distracting and gave her time to think. She did not fully understand the strange obsession that the Lowlanders had with mostly useless chunks of metal and their love of elaborate, pointless hierarchies. Especially when those obsessions meant that an old warrior who seemed well-past his prime had the power to make her life difficult.

Had she been in the Highlands or the wilds, Nem would have simply resolved the matter with a sword. It was her experience that a sharp or pointy object was usually a good way to clear a wide path of passage through almost any obstacle. In the sanctity of the guild hall, Nem had no intention of drawing her blade first. But she would not cower. And she would not meekly surrender to the guild officer. She would not silently trudge out of the guild hall with her head bowed in shame. She would not give the scarred, wounded man that satisfaction. If she could not choose her victory then she would at least choose the manner of defeat that suited her temper.

Turning towards the nearest guild runner, a young man, barely grown out of childhood, who appeared to be doing his best to turn invisible, Nem pointed past the guild officer blocking her path,"Guild runner, would you please tell the Guild Master that Nemeia Naïlo has arrived as requested and humbly awaits her orders."
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Admiral Moskau
Raw
OP
Avatar of Admiral Moskau

Admiral Moskau An Admiral of the Binary Seas

Member Seen 4 yrs ago

Nemeia

Post 4


Nem allowed a frown to pass over her features. She didn't begrudge the guild runner his polite refusal. Runners that made of a habit of ignoring the orders of their superiors did not last long. They were never that hard to replace, there were enough street urchins milling about River City to see to that. Still, Nem could not help but be a bit disappointed. She'd nursed a small hope that the the guild runner would have been a bit more of a rebel. The boy had at least been more curious than afraid, which was a welcome surprise.

Returning her attentions to the portly guild officer, Nem forced a smile, inadvertently displaying her sharp canines, "You play strange games for an officer of the guild."

Nodding towards the leg he seemed to favor she raised her voice slightly, "How long before you tire and let me do my job? The very same job that our superior tasked me with."
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Admiral Moskau
Raw
OP
Avatar of Admiral Moskau

Admiral Moskau An Admiral of the Binary Seas

Member Seen 4 yrs ago

Teg (Cora)

Post 2



Readjusting her bespoke coat, Teg cheerfully sauntered towards the cockpit. She hated loading boxes. She didn't mind physical labor, but boxes, boxes were just not very fun. More importantly, leaving the Hub behind meant that they'd be in space, which meant that she was off the clock, at least unofficially. Unless something interesting happened. Like pirates, she loved pirates. They were so much fun to shoot at.

There was little for the gunslinger to do during takeoff, but she wasn't going to miss a front seat view. Since as far back as she could remember, Teg had been fascinated by space and space ships. It had simply been a strange twist of fate that she'd earn her way across the galaxy by making holes of various sizes in various sized humans and aliens.

Making her way through the tight corridors of the ship, Teg considered the tense interaction between Socket and Andrea with a rueful grin. She knew there was beef between the two crew-members. As far as she could tell it was mostly based on mutual obsession with their rust bucket of a ship, but she hadn't ruled out some strange sort of romantic triangle between the two humans and the ship. Mechanics and pilots were a strange lot after all. And space was cold, so cold, and lonely. A student of the human condition, Teg recalled with some amusement that significant amounts of time spent traveling the interstellar seas could have unexpected effects on the human psyche and her own experience told her that people did very, very odd things to pass the time when stuck on a ship.

Finding an empty seat on the bridge with a prime view, that wasn't reserved for Andrea, the Captain or the first mate, Teg gleefully buckled herself in.

She was ready to fly.

She was ready for adventure.
Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Admiral Moskau
Raw
OP
Avatar of Admiral Moskau

Admiral Moskau An Admiral of the Binary Seas

Member Seen 4 yrs ago

Satra Maral





Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Admiral Moskau
Raw
OP
Avatar of Admiral Moskau

Admiral Moskau An Admiral of the Binary Seas

Member Seen 4 yrs ago

975th Special Duties Construction Training Battalion


Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Admiral Moskau
Raw
OP
Avatar of Admiral Moskau

Admiral Moskau An Admiral of the Binary Seas

Member Seen 4 yrs ago

975th: Officers






Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Admiral Moskau
Raw
OP
Avatar of Admiral Moskau

Admiral Moskau An Admiral of the Binary Seas

Member Seen 4 yrs ago

975th: Enlisted Personnel




Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Admiral Moskau
Raw
OP
Avatar of Admiral Moskau

Admiral Moskau An Admiral of the Binary Seas

Member Seen 4 yrs ago



Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Admiral Moskau
Raw
OP
Avatar of Admiral Moskau

Admiral Moskau An Admiral of the Binary Seas

Member Seen 4 yrs ago

-


Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Admiral Moskau
Raw
OP
Avatar of Admiral Moskau

Admiral Moskau An Admiral of the Binary Seas

Member Seen 4 yrs ago

WIP

↑ Top
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet