DrabberRogue

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

To say Arcturus was lost would be an immense understatement.

At first he had merely been alarmed. Alarmed and impressed as what had before been a dying man suddenly sprang into action, rolling into the corner with a vigor even the most fit of persons would envy. Even after what he had seen during the previous fight, Arcturus had never expected that the blood would have such a swift, dramatic effect. The scarlet drenched man's many mysterious wounds were now nowhere to be seen, closed and healed as if they had never been inflicted. It was a baffling wonder to behold.

That would not be the last thing to baffle the young man, however. When the newest face, apparently a 'huntsman' named Draco, stepped into the doorway Arcturus had sprung to his feet and scrambled for his saber. As far as he figured it was most likely that a sudden new pitchfork wielding intruder would be associated with the party that had attacked them. Luckily, and somewhat confusingly, he was wrong. As the men around him continued to exchange words, the lone foreigner in the room became increasingly puzzled.

He got the impression that the very streets of Yharnam were unsafe, which made no sense to him, necessitating that armed men escort civilians to safety. Was the city under attack? What in heaven's name was a church giant? Why would the girl's identity as a 'saint' paint a target on their backs? All of this while that word, 'hunter', was thrown around with little explanation.

According to this man of the 'White Church', Victor, he was now one of those hunters. No explanation beyond that, but...
Something about the title felt right.
Although that might simply have been because he now knew what the odd smell was.

Whatever was going on it seemed to have to do with some ominous sounding 'Night of The Hunt.' An event that put people in danger and sounded like it necessitated the intervention of these 'hunters.' Arcturus had no idea what to make of all this information. However he wasn't about to reveal just how totally in the dark he was, and remained silent through it all. He could get the information he wanted later. In the meantime there were more important matters to focus on. Getting those civilians to safety, protecting that saint, getting himself some equipment beyond his sword, and most importantly staying alive.

One more thing, as well. Shifting the base of his weapon's blade to his left hand, so he could carry it more easily without brandishing the thing, he steadily approached the man called Draco. While he didn't fully trust this newest arrival, the pitchfork wielding man seemed to have good intentions. Although perhaps 'pitchfork' was a disservice to the tool held in the huntsman's hands. It seemed to be designed for more than just farm work and held his curious stare for at least a good couple seconds.

Strangely Draco had seemed quite apprehensive when he first approached them. Was it because they were 'hunters?' Otherwise he seemed solid. Perhaps a bit lacking in confidence, but definitely experienced. By that garish scar on his face it seemed the man was certainly no stranger to combat. Surely the mark of a nasty injury sustained from an enemy he had withstood.

"Those... 'madmen' you came across, did they say anything of note?" Arcturus asked quietly, the piercing blue of his eyes peering inquisitively into Draco's. While his words were spoken in a clear, even refined manner, they still bore his distinct foreign accent. Immediately giving away that he was not from Yharnam. "Who they were? What they were-"

Suddenly the most unusual of noises sounded out from behind him, causing Arcturus to trail off as his attention was pulled away. He turned to see the lamp now projecting an ephemeral blue glow, with Tor-... The other man who had awoken with them standing before it. At first he was set on edge by this new development. However as he regarded the lamp, observed the pale blue light within, he was gradually set at ease. It was a comforting color. Like a cozy fire, only blue and not nearly as warm.

Was this what the message had meant? 'The lantern's pale gleam?' Remembering the words that Marcus had read aloud, Arcturus averted his gaze from the lantern, instead curiously watching the man next to it. Watching to see if anything else happened. It made him feel somewhat silly. Just what exactly was he expecting?

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Internal screaming.

Death became me. Dragged me from the face of this world. It gives me conniptions...
I have returned however! Sorry about the sudden disappearance (I've lost track of how many times it's happened at this point), seems I need to build the habit of being more vocal when I fall off. In any case, I'll be looking to cook up a new post pretty soon here.

Also speaking of people returning from the dead, I've noticed that Ashgan has been seen within the last week in case you wanna try pinging them.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Got my post up! Thought I'd include the suggestion of Marcus muttering the words, if you're alright with that.
Would've colored it too, but I couldn't figure out how to get the particular color you use...

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Arcturus frowned at the condition of the finely garbed body. Nothing about the wounds made sense. They didn't line up at all with the damage to the attire, and they didn't look like any he'd seen before. Hundreds of small lesions in the skin, slowly mending alike to the injuries of the sleeping patients in the previous room. Stranger still, it looked as though they were all exit wounds. It was as if something within the man's own body had attempted to rip him inside out.

It seemed to Arcturus a miracle that this man had survived such injuries, though perhaps it had something to do with the pool of blood surrounding him. The viscous, scarlet liquid that their unnamed reinforcement was steadily lapping from the floor. A sight which the youthful foreigner found distinctly revolting. Though it did not dissuade him from carefully extracting the mysterious vial from within the man's pouch, examining it for a moment between his slender fingers. The substance within bore that same pleasant hue as that which was strewn across the room.

Indeed though the sight of an incapacitated man drinking his own blood was a disturbing one, it made a twisted kind of sense. Arcturus did not take long to decide on what he would do with that vial. Heavy as it felt in his hand. Oddly tempting though it seemed. Carefully he removed its transparent top cap, revealing the thin needle beneath, before gently pushing it into the other man's thigh. Where he knew an artery was located.

He could hear the words of Marcus behind him as he carried this out, nodding in confirmation while his piercing gaze fixed curiously on the vial. Watching to see if it would have any effect. Those eyes quickly shifted past it to the other body, however, as Arcturus assumed the blood would take time to work. If it did anything at all.

"I'll secure the bell, too." He called back, rising to his feet and taking the couple steps towards the object in question. Lying next to the bisected corpse of the absurdly tall figure dressed in black. It was certainly different from the towering beast they had faced earlier, yet he got the impression it was something other than human. His gaze did not linger long upon it, though. Arcturus felt apprehension nag at the back of his thoughts as he knelt down next to the bell, inspecting it while taking care not to touch the thing.

Working out an idea to pick it up without any unwanted ringing, the young man tore a piece of cloth from the robe of the corpse next to him, glancing hesitantly at the ethereal little man before finally reaching his hands out towards the bell it was investigating. As if seeking encouragement from the equally anxious looking being. With a focused care Arcturus slowly stuffed the sinister object with the cloth, hopefully ensuring that the clapper would not be able to strike the inner surface of the bell.

“Glance calmly upon the lantern's pale gleam,
and find safe haven within the Hunter's Dream.”

The sound of muttering drew his attention back to Marcus, the spectral scroll, and the unusual lamp sticking up from the ground. Hunter's Dream. There it was again, that mention of hunters. Everything that had happened so far seemed to revolve around that title. The strange attack, the astounding physical feats, and now seemingly these odd little things and their lamp. Arcturus couldn't even begin to work out the how or why of it all. As his thoughts raced he remained silent, tucking the bell away in his coat's left pocket.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

So I have to ask since I'm never sure... Should I wait for others within the same scene to post, or should I go on replying with Arcturus until he does something that involves other characters?

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

There we go, posted!

Sorry about taking a while. Fell off the writing horse again last week...

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

The woman's body was cold.

Her lack of a pulse left a somber, unsettling emptiness in its wake. This had once been a person. Whatever she was like, whatever plans she'd had, whatever bonds she'd formed, she was gone now. It was a tragic awareness that Arcturus had become familiar with. Though he'd never quite grown used to it.

Distinctly unfamiliar to him however was what appeared to be the cause of her death. Whatever had blackened her veins and paled her flesh. Never before had he seen a body in such a state. Still more perplexing was the fact that she had died at all, presumably taken by whatever disease had brought her to the very place they were in. Wherever that was. Had the patients lined up upon those many cots not all been treated with Yharnam blood? Was not that very substance said to be a cure to all illnesses? Such were the rumors that had brought him to the reclusive city in the first place, after all.

Perhaps some skepticism, caution even, was warranted. Even after experiencing the results of the treatment for himself. Whatever the cause, this woman had died despite having received Yharnam's so called panacea. Assuming she had received it at all, of course, but he figured that was likely a safe assumption to make.

That train of thought was abruptly interrupted when suddenly a group of those small, ethereal seeming creatures from before burst out of the floor. Surrounding him. Reflexively Arcturus sprang back to his feet, taking in a sharp breath as his startled heart leaped in his chest. Before he could take much more action, however, he realized just what they were. Remembering how they had proved themselves harmless before. These strange, otherworldly looking... 'little men,' as coined by the man calling himself Marcus.

Slowly the young officer let his breath back out in sigh, staring curiously down at the odd creatures around him as he allowed himself to relax somewhat. Taking another glance around the room, he noted that they had appeared near the other two as well. Gesturing and moaning with animated movements. It was somewhat... Endearing. Though their inexplicable presence still left him slightly uncomfortable. By this point he was relatively confident in the reality of the situation. That it wasn't a dream, that all the surreal things he had witnessed over the last several minutes had truly happened. The sensation of being kicked across the room had certainly been evidence enough of that. Yet he still couldn't help questioning what he was seeing. Only the reactions of his new allies provided reassurance enough that he was not, in fact, hallucinating.

It was the sound of approaching footsteps that pulled his attention away from the uncanny yet friendly seeming creatures at his feet. Arcturus turned his head to regard the other man, his icy blue eyes briefly doing a once over of... T-... However that name was pronounced. He dare not attempt to say it out loud until he heard it more clearly. This man looked to be well worn. Callused, tanned, and scarred. Yet the way he carried himself did not strike Arcturus as particularly experienced. At least not experienced in the way he tended to look for. Still the man looked quite strong, and seemed comfortable with the axe in his hand. The young man wasn't quite sure what to think of this. Perhaps this muscled man had trained to use an axe, but never seen combat? That explanation would be odd, if true, and still didn't quite fit.

Lastly it looked like there was something off about the other man's face. His jaw looked crooked, as if broken, or more accurately as if broken in the past. So that might be why Arcturus couldn't understand a word of what he'd overheard earlier. Presumably. His piercing stare didn't linger long on that feature, however, as the older man waved and gestured towards the door. Arching an eyebrow at the choice of communication, he glanced towards the doorway to see that Marcus had already gone through. Emanating from that same exit he could hear the fading footfalls of fleeing men.

The sound caused his heart to pound faster in his chest, an involuntary reaction that caught Arcturus off guard. It was the opportunity of a fleeing foe, engraved into his instincts, triggering an unsettling urge. An aggressive impulse that bordered on predatory. He noticed his breaths quicken, his hand tightening slightly around the hilt of his sword, as he felt a desire to pursue. It was only for a moment however, as he drew in a deep breath and further straightened his already rigid posture. Discipline, Arcturus.

Putting a cordial smile on his face, Arcturus swiftly turned his gaze back to the man next to him, issuing a brief nod before drawing in breath to speak.
"We should get our bearings, determine where exactly we are..." He began, heading towards the broken doorway where the ethereal 'little men' beckoned. That small opening which not long before had served as crucial buffer against their still unidentified foes. Despite the uncertainty of the situation and the unnatural impulse he'd just felt, Arcturus spoke with a confident tone. Maintaining an air that he knew what he was doing even if he was perhaps the most lost person in the room. Every word enunciated with a refined yet foreign accent.
"...and why we were..." 'Attacked' is how he'd intended to finish that sentence. However the words died on his lips as he reached the door, his bright eyes peering into the blood covered room.

The pleasant hue of scarlet assaulted his eyes as they first fixed upon the unusual lamp and the assembly of yet more little men surrounding it. As well as the rolled up parchment seemingly being presented to Marcus by two of their number. Experience nagged at him to evaluate the room, so after a couple seconds of gawking he then turned his attention to the corpses whom had surely bled that which coated the floor. One of the corpses lying before him looked much like the men who earlier had peered in it at them. A fallen enemy. However not as notable as the two bodies which lie in the corner of the room.

One looked to be freakishly tall and unnervingly pale, with a bell and a cane lying nearby. The bell, no doubt. Just the memory of its haunting sound sent a shiver down his spine. The body looked to have been completely cleaved in half, and he didn't have to look very hard to find a probable culprit. Another body, this one dressed in attire of an ecclesiastical fashion, was completely drenched in blood. Far more blood than he would have expected considering the scope of the fight and the injuries of the bodies. Lying next to that figure was a likely, if absurd, candidate for the weapon that had silenced the bell. A truly massive sword, decorated with a beautiful pattern along its impractically thick blade. He would have dismissed it as a purely ceremonial weapon, were it not for the mind boggling feats of strength and resilience he had already witnessed since he awoke. Not to mention the blood clearly splattered all along its length.

Finally his eyes settled on a small figure on the other side of the room, draped in white. He'd almost failed to notice her. Young, delicate, innocent. The last kind of person he would have expected to find in the aftermath of a skirmish. What was she doing in such a place? Arcturus' eyes drifted back to the blood drenched man on the ground, where a pair of those little men were tugging at the pouch on the his hip. It was then that he noticed the man's hand moving. It was a small, weak, yet still unmistakable sign of life.

He gave a brief, uncertain glance towards the other two before making up his mind. Quickly he strode further into the room, setting his saber down next to the massive blade as he knelt beside the blood covered man. Hurriedly he scanned the body for whatever injuries might have incapacitated this person, something that might justify all that blood, before turning his attention to the pouch. What could it contain that a dying man would consider it important enough to retrieve? After a moment of hesitation, glancing at the stranger's face, he took it upon himself to open the pouch and see what it contained.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

It happened again...

Sorry I vanished so abruptly once more. Guess I wasn't quite ready to begin posting again... This time I decided I'd lead my return with a post, so hopefully I'm actually back now.

Also I don't mind if you take control of Arcturus for a bit to move him over to the sidelines when I take too long. I don't want the rp to be held back if for whatever reason I end up taking forever again.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

A faint pain had shot up Arcturus' arm when his saber had come to an abrupt and unexpected halt against the beast man's shin. It felt as if he'd just tried to strike a tree! It was not the creature's unnaturally tough bones that had caught him by surprise, however. No, it was what had followed the ringing of that accursed bell, as his grotesque foe was seemingly possessed by an otherworldly rage. Again he leapt into action as it let out an ear rending roar, wrenching his weapon from its leg in order to defend himself, but he had not anticipated the speed of its furious strike. Not reacting quickly enough to evade, Arcturus had reflexively swept his sword into the path of the oncoming strike, muscle memory taking over as his body tried to prevent a serious blow.

However his hasty attempt to parry had never met the oncoming blades. The beast's fearsome strike had been interrupted by another man, jumping into the fray just in time. Not that Arcturus had much time to appreciate his new ally. In place of blades the frenzied beast had instead sent its foot, impacting him squarely in the stomach and launching him backwards. He felt his breath knocked from his lungs as a sharp pain shot through his abdomen, followed shortly by the distinctly uncomfortable sensation of crashing into the cots behind him. He landed on one cot in particular, sending both him and its occupant tumbling to the floor as the force of his impact overturned it.

Arcturus was no stranger to having his breath knocked from him. He had fallen from a horse more than once in the line of duty, made to choke on gunsmoke amidst the fire and carnage of the battlefield. After but a few moments taken to regain his bearings, glancing back in the direction of the fighting to make sure the beast wasn't trying to press its advantage, the young man had pushed himself back up into a kneeling position. Taking a deep breath as he did so.

Almost immediately he felt a sharp pain above his stomach, causing him to exhale that air in a grunt of pain. Taking shallower breaths, he had knelt there between the cots, clutching his abdomen with his left hand and gripping the hilt of his sword hard with his right. It was then that he had noticed something odd about the other person whose bed he had overturned. Something unnatural, something sickly. The patient was a woman, her pale skin laced with an unnerving web of blackened veins. Arcturus had never seen anything like it.

Any thoughts of the pain in his torso faded as his unsettled mind briefly wondered what had happened to her. What sort of disease could have caused such a condition. Unless...

Arcturus almost missed the end of the fight, his attention swiftly returning to the beast as their newest comrade managed to snap the neck of the gnarled thing that had opened the encounter. An event that seemed to coincide with the silencing of that infernal bell. A sigh of relief slipped from the foreigner's mouth when that all encompassing din had finally ceased, peering over from his position among the cots to evaluate the aftermath. The man in charred clothing was still alive, the 'echo' was nowhere to be seen, and the beast man seemed to have finally fallen. Although there was now a mess of blood and viscera around one of the cots where he had heard the nightmarish shade rampaging around. A sight that brought a grimace to his pale expression.

Cautiously he turned his piercing blue eyes back to the now dead beast, watching as his savior rose from beneath its corpse and... Introduced himself? Presumably? Arcturus already had a little trouble parsing the Yharnam accent, but this man was downright unintelligible. Was it some sort of archaic local dialect? He overheard a name, T-... Torkill? Tourkil? Tourquill? Something like that.

Regardless, the beast didn't look like it was getting up. So there was a way to kill them. Satisfied that they were no longer in immediate danger, he turned his attention back to the body next to him, pressing two fingers against her throat to check for a pulse.

All the while Arcturus had failed to notice as the pain in his stomach slowly faded. Each breath easier than the last until it had completely vanished.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Oh god it's been a month since my last post...

Sorry I popped out of existence again. I have returned though, with intent to post!
Figured I'd OOC message before posting just in case the post takes me longer than expected. I must apologize for my lack of communication previously, I have a bad habit of going silent when people are waiting on me to post because I feel bad about chattering in OOC instead of posting. I'll try to speak up more though so I don't just totally vanish again in the future.