Fallenreaper

⊰Manifest Anima: Planes Divided⊱

Hell’s Minions, Part 2

---

Time

Day 2~ Night

Location

Cedarvale Apartment Complex -Entertainment District, Ominar

---

Masha had stirred when Nikki had left the bed. She was pretty tipsy when she’d gone to sleep after their fun, but the movement and the loss of heat from the other body that had been next to her shifted her sleep into something a little restless. So when the lamp was pulled down to the floor and destroyed, she sat up with a gasp, blinking to try and remember where she was and what was going on. When her heart rate slowed down she got her brain working enough to figure out that she wasn’t in immediate danger, but her bedmate was missing.

Standing up, she didn't bother with finding clothes. They wouldn't protect her from bullets, and she didn't care if people saw her naked. And it was always more disarming to come into a room sans clothing. So padding softly, she headed towards the bedroom door to peer out. When she saw no one there, she headed for the kitchen because that was the next logical place for her to have gone if there was someone else there. Which she had a very strong feeling that there was.

She moved silently and came upon the backs of two big men. Of course. And there was more. She peered into the kitchen door to see Nikki, her eyes wide in panic being held by a third. “Well gentlemen,” she said without further preamble and stepped into the room, pushing her hands against the mens’s back as she went to move them out of her way. “I’d suggest you start explaining yourselves and just what exactly you’re doing here in the middle of the night. And I will know if you’re lying, so don’t test me.”

Nikki struggled more, her captive’s arm tightened in warning against her middle, as Zackary smiled. His eyes moved up and down Masha’s figure. However the aura it gave off was more like a predator sizing up his next meal than a lustful stare one might’ve expected. His two associates shifted from the sides, allowing Masha to move into the center, and immediately Ronald averted his eyes out of habit. The second, Simone, let a wolfish smirk cross his thin lips at the side.

He was the only one to answer, “This business doesn’t concern you, through you’re part of the reason she’s in this predicament. We’re just going to rough her up a bit then leave. Now, just walk your little ass back into the bedroom or I might just satisfy my needs with your hot little body you’re so willing to flash.”

Masha nodded her head some, looking down for a moment and letting her long hair cover her front some. She turned to face the man who spoke, looking up with a little smirk on her face. She looked him up and said “not sure if you have what it takes to please me.”

“See, I’m not a gentleman. As long as I get off, that’s all that matters,” Simone made it clear he wasn’t the giving type as Ron interrupted his eye fucking.

“We came to do a job. Can we just wrap this up and leave?” The individual with a tattoo on his throat front spoke, not at all pleased to be in this situation from the sound of it, and turned to Masha, “Look, just go. This doesn’t concern you-”

Zackary sudden jerked up when Nikki thrusted her head up, her skull smacking his hawk like nose on the center. Blood squirted out as he pressed his hand to his bridge to stop the nosebleed and jerked his hand out to grip a fistful of her hair. Gripping it, Zackary jerked Nikki back causing her to scream in pain and fall back upon the kitchen floor with a fleshy thump. A small whimper escaped her lips as she felt part of her hair being ripped out while she was hauled back up to her feet.

She winced a little, cringing at the way he jerked Nikki around. She liked it rough just fine, for others mainly, but this was something else. “While you thought this might not have concerned me before,” she started with a low hiss, “you've made it my concern now. Let her go, or I will make you let her go.” The tiny woman started forward, her right hand curling into a claw, and literally turning into one. It was subtle, but her hands went from something that would be slightly annoying to something actually dangerous. She wasn't used to hang to do the dirty work herself, but she didn't have much choice in the moment. Thankfully Nikki seemed the fighter as well.

Mass Effect: Borealis

flips, letting everyone know she's alive.

⊰Manifest Anima: Planes Divided⊱

Hell’s Minions

---

Time

Day 2~ Night

Location

Cedarvale Apartment Complex -Entertainment District, Ominar

---

A dark tinted window sedan rolled up and grounded to a halt on street curb, just outside the Cedarvale Apartment complex. Its motor broke the silence penetrating through the usual busy atmosphere found within the busy neighborhood as everyone had settled down for the night. After several moments, a white haired man, dressed in inconspicuous clothing, casually exited from the well kept car. He let observed the apartment complex a moment then turned his head expectedly back toward it, his voice raspy and hard in tone, “This seems to be the place that Mr. Cortes told us about.”

His thumb wiped at his hawk like nose then idly traced his vivid, deep scar along his upper lip to his cheek bone while waiting. Two more individuals, both males, exited the sedan and looked toward him to lead. Sighing, the head twisted on heel then glided up the small porch steps and attempted to open the door to the lobby. It jiggled, but didn’t give to his attempt to enter.

“Something wrong, Zackary?” Asked Ronald, the individual with a wavy top and shaved sides. A large, decorative tribal tattoo decorated his neck front from his collarbone to his jawline, through partially hidden by his leather jacket collar being propped upright. His blue eyes looked about watchfully during his wait for the door to be open as he stepped back, appearing to head back to the car and bolt from one obstruction in their way.

Zackary sighed, his hand ruffled his combed back hair and short cut hair while he thought. The lock was arcanic compared to those from the business district, one of the sub security companies, and wouldn’t take much to pick. Casually he began to mouth silently an incantation causing a whisper to float directly into Ron’s ear, the man abruptly stopped when his attention caught the information.

“Just bring the lock pick from the car and stand watch. You don’t want me to tell Mr. Cortes you high tailed and ran off, do you?”

Ron tightened his grip, briefly, over the door handle then opened. He ducked in and retrieved the lock picks behind the seat, retreating back upright then quickly passed them off to Zackary. The older man gave a wicked smile and bent over, carefully working on the lock. In a short time it came undone with a click. Satisfied with his work, he carefully made his way in without worry of leaving any evidence behind thanks to the recent collection of technology the Serpientes de Ouroboros traded for. Anyone reasonable would be asleep as they walked into the shabby lobby, the first floor of the cheap place, and drifted to counter.

Zackary’s thin, willowy figure moved toward the counter, noting the numerous mailboxes behind it. His tongue pressed against his heavily scarred cheek as his finger raised in the air and darted from one box to the next, each one named and numbered. His grey eyes crinkled in acknowledgement when his sights came to rest on Nikki Patel’s name at room 006. His lips curled into a toothy, crooked grin.

He moved from the counter, his finger made a crescent circle in the air for the other two to follow him. Without holding back his excitement, he took the stair steps two at a time all the way up to the third floor. The other two hot in his wake. Upon entering the hallway, his eyes swayed back and forth until he noted the door plate with the number he sought. Again the lockpicks came as he lowered to one knee, his fingers professionally manipulating the metal tumblers until the knobs opened with a click and the door leaned outward.

Carefully, they made their way inside.

~~|Nikki Patel|~~

The sound of running water ceased as Nikki edged into the hallway. She was wearing a sports bra and boxer briefs, the only things she managed to get on during her path to relieve herself. One arm stretched high and over her head, her other crossed over behind her head to add to the afterglow still lingering on her surface. The muscle pulled briefly while she let a deep, lengthy yawn rippled from her mouth. On the way down, her hand ruffled her turned over and dyed purple bangs before they rose up again. She had considered a shower, but her mind didn’t want to wash away the haze from sleep just yet. Her eyes heavily crusted with sleep grit, her hand back rubbed each eye to clear her vision long enough for her to walk back to her bed.

A bed that still held a naked, pretty girl wrapped in the sheets.

Nikki smirked, groggily at the wild night they had and looking forward to the morning to come. Her bare feet padded down the hallway to the bedroom door, pausing a moment in confusion. She turned her eyes to spot the front door slightly a jarred. Every sense jerked awake and her sight narrowed on the scene, knowing full well she had shut and locked it. Carefully, she popped her door open. She leaned down and reached around the doorframe for the basebat which stood there just in case. Her fingers gripped the end just when a cobra seemed to strike.

A man’s hand wrapped about her face. It clasped over her mouth just when she screamed, silencing her. Her arms thrashed about as she heard a dark, eager chuckle in her ear and her figure lifted from her feet. She kicked out to try to knock him off her. The lamp caught the end of her foot causing the hallway lamp to crash loudly, then pop and fizzle out. In complete darkness, Nikki continued to struggle thanks to the fear and desperation pounding at her skull. A sense of survival crept into her usually calm demeanor while she clawed from being pulled back into the kitchen.

Zackary’s voice whispered into her hearing, “Shhhh, stop struggling bitch. Or your little whore in there will be joining you. Mr. Cortes warned you about shooting off your mouth, now you get to pay the price.”

~Chrono Asylum: Devil's Plague

Cade
Xx---------------------------xX

Cade looked utterly confused by Samad’s actions. The blond’s head turned about and tried to keep Samad in his eyesight, failing when the Iranian walked away. His hand went to his wheelchair and tried to pull it back. It stopped about a fourth of the way and wouldn’t move anymore, stopped by the brake that Samad locked in place before he left. Cade frowned in frustration then tried to reach his arm back behind him in hopes to unlock the brake, but he only managed to brush it. Pulling back from his attempt, his ears caught Audrey hiss out her comment about him looking like shit.

He froze in place. Cade gradually realized he had completely forgotten where he was and took stock of his surroundings. He appeared to be acting like an idiot in the present of both Audrey and a complete stranger, something that made him painfully aware of how he must look now. Namely with the vivid white patches where new skin was grafted, healed and eventually meld into his own natural color over sun exposure. For now, he had to deal with looking like that novel monster of Victor Frankenstein (which he assumed the author had accidently meet the bloodline once and survived, thus her inspiration for her book).

Feeling both Audrey and her friend’s eyes on him, he gently reached up and touched his left face side. For the first time he felt the crinkling of healing flesh as evidence where the hole had once been. It made the nightmares more real than before. He shuddered and shook the anxiety away for now. Pushing it underneath his more cheerful demeanour, Cade tried to let the fact he had company distract him from the tension filling him after coming close to a near death experience.

Cade, forced to up on his endeavour now, leaned back in his chair and gave her his best reassuring smile when her questions came pouring out. Namely those regarding his condition and the mission.

“I’m fine, really. It looks worst than it really was,” Cade admitted honestly as he answered while he avoided the details, through he had a small suspicion that Audrey wouldn’t let it rest there. Part of him hoped he was wrong rather than right, “We were on a mission in Russia, actually. I had a bad encounter with a Rogue that was into manipulating metal, namely meat hooks, and a sadistic nature. I was a bit of an idiot for not checking my surroundings and walked into a trap. I’ve been back for about five days recovering in the fish tanks.”

Thankfully, before any more questions were asked Audrey's friend interrupted. That’s when he fully realized he must’ve looked very crappy since she commented on him looking tired, a fact that wasn’t too far from the actual truth. When Audrey mentioned his partner, Cade piped up with his name,“Samad Armir, yeah. He’s… character really as you got a glimpse of.”

Cade then frowned a moment when something occurred to him, “I’m surprised he didn’t toss me into the training grounds instead of the cafeteria and try to make me walking able to be honest… he appeared itching to do that really.”

That’s when he heard the crackling shock of his bo staff go off. His head jerked about just to see three of the eight guys go down, Cade groaning at his partner’s casual attitude. Samad flashed him a brief smile as he seemed to wait for something. This caused some concern for the younger asylum as he turned to Audrey and Kayla, “He’s up to something… but I swear, he’s going to give me a heart attack before I get the chance to grow old.”

---

Samad
Xx---------------------------xX

Still juggling Cade’s bo staff, the blood pressure medication, and his plate in one hand, Samad’s purposeful and methodical steps carried him toward the nearest table still intact on the fight’s outskirts. His other hand tapped the tile on his way through as it splashed the water briefly on his detour to avoid it. He did well to keep the medication hidden from sight and under the plate, the only way to know it was there was if someone noticed him take it from Cade. A plan curled into his mind as he recalled the events that lead up to this moment. The hidden clues of how to prevent it or at least placid the most violent of the individuals, but he needed to buy his time.

First, he needed to even the numbers out without getting involved directly or using his alchemy. That was the tricky part.

His free hand continued to grip his cane as he walked farther along, reaching the table where he paused. He set his cane upon the edge and shifted his hand to ‘assist’ his first, his thumb and forefinger already popped the cork off the archaic bottle that Cade preferred compared to modern medical ones. In a well practiced movement, he extended his blade into the glass and let it become soaked into the solution.

Most people would’ve been confused at his request, much like Cade, but Samad had a deep reason why. For a healthy individual, some prescription blood pressure medications could create ‘stroke’ effects. Unless an Asylum had been seen being sliced by a poison tipped weapon, which many didn’t allow it to happen, AMRO rarely checked for foreign substances in the blood system when they put a subject in the fish tank. At least until a victim started to display a reaction and fail. By then, the damage depended on the quickness of the staff and those on duty.

In a positive light, the intended victim be unable to function as well as he once did and AMRO might just cut their losses. At worst, he would live and only experience minor brain damage. Either way, the result would leave a lasting impression unlike Maeve’s crude tactics of beating the individual into a paste. As shown with his own partner, the fish tanks were effective at healing damn nearly anything that wasn’t severed and it was that fact Samad had taken into account when he wanted to put things to an end in the long term.

His blade pulled back, a slight more modern design off of the punch dagger of his ancestors, and once more was hidden in his sleeve. He reached back with his hand and pulled the seat before he lowered into it. Samad pulled a napkin from the table’s dispenser then used it to wipe his cane bottom dry so he wouldn’t trip. While he did that, the smell of salt wafted up to his nostrils and his knowledge of science came rushing from his memories.

Many people believe water was a conduit for electricity but that was completely false. Pure water was a perfect insulator as it didn’t have the ions required for the electrical energy to pass through, like lead and other conductive minerals. Salt water, however, was perfect for his intentions.

A smile curled about Samad’s lips and it was one befitting the Persian Lion of old.

Slowly he placed his cane upright and back while he casually ate, displeased with the lack of parsley in the kabob. For the most part, he acted like he didn’t care or waited for the authorities to come to break it up. In reality, he was waiting for the right moment. That came when Jonathan became involved. Slowly and casually, Samad pulled his partner’s collapsible bo staff then tilted it to the nearest water source on the ground. His eyes locked with both the celtic woman and man that Cade would describe as Real-life Rambo/Commando mix.

‘You both have until the count of three to get clear of the water or you’ll become victims of what I’m about to do. One… two...three...’ Samad warned Maeve and Jonathan, both who seemed to be outnumbered, as his thumb pressed the hidden trigger on Cade’s bo staff.

In moments it extended underneath the table and the tip made contact with the water only a foot from him. He pressed again causing electricity, nearly that of a high voltage taser, to surge and electrify anyone within it. Jonathan and Maeve promptly rushed clear as he held it there until the charge was down to half causing him to promptly retract it. About three Asylums, the two fighting Jonathan and the one confronting Maeve, dropped immediately onto the still buzzing water and out cold. Without a single reaction, Samad retracted the bo staff as he placed the tube at his waist. He continued to eat, flashing Cade a knowing smile, while he waited for the next stage which wouldn’t happen until the authorities broke this mess up.

Formaroth: Battle for the Throne

@TheDuncanMorganI have Dyril done, but I still have to do Kinseo and then I'll put them both up at the same time. >,< *nervous, very*

Edit: @Sundered Echo@Ellri I think I went overboard... it's 25,096 characters. >_>

~Chrono Asylum: Devil's Plague

I've posted!!! YAY!

~Chrono Asylum: Devil's Plague

Xx---------------------------xX
Experimental Team
Xx---------------------------xX

Moments before all chaos broke out-Literally--> Present

As Omar wheeled Cade toward a table, Samad exchanged a look with his younger brother and promptly moved to the nearest table to the exit. His hands gripped then slid one of the three chairs to the side before gesturing to place Cade there. Without another word, clearly showed dislike in his obligation, Samad then departed to grab Cade to eat from the bar set out for the students that ate throughout the day. Meanwhile, Omar bidded Cade good bye as he departed for something that required his attention.

While Cade wanted to ask, he got the impression he wouldn’t have gotten the answer that would’ve satisfied his curiosity and instead merely watched the man exit the cafeteria. Still feeling weak, he settled into hard plastic of the wheelchair and casually glance about. That’s when he spotted trouble. One of the notorious Bean Sidhes, or Banshees more commonly, caught his attention.

The redhead had began to stride, each step a mission, toward some asylums talking to some of the students from Innocence. Meanwhile her partner held back, sitting with Ante Mortem and sipping tea. That grim coffin propped against the back wall as they all seemed to be eyeing the tension between the celtic looking woman and another asylum.

Innocence.

The name left a bitter impression on his mind as he subtly snorted under his breath at the name since it was anything but innocent. In fact, it was a brutal and unforgiving training faculty that taught children who surged in Alchemical arts into being the best killers AMRO could produce. Cade’s hand tightened upon his wheelchair arm end until his knuckles turned white briefly then released. Most of these children didn’t know what they were missing, but having surged at a late age, he did.

”I hear you’ve been telling stories!” Maeve’s voice broke Cade’s reflection over his history over the school, “Mind telling me one?”

Cade got a dark, foreboding feeling over where this conversation was heading. Naturally his instincts were dead right. All the color drained from his skin upon overhearing the tell as his expression showed the horror of it in a subtle way, his eyes unable to remove themselves from the one responsible for it. The glass shattered breaking the spell as the fight broke out in the room. Naturally anyone nearby was quickly roped into it and what started off small conflict became an all out brawl.

Samad had returned, unfazed by the fighting in the middle of the cafeteria, as he set down Cade’s plate. His lips frowned upon seeing his partner distracted by the ongoings in the room. Other than the unpleasant sounds clashing of plates, fists randomly flying and tables being upturned, the older Asylum was unfazed by the scene as he plopped down to eat himself. While the Banshees were outnumbered, Samad knew authorities would arrive shortly to prevent anyone from being killed and end the fight abruptly. All those involved would be punished with either a slap on the wrist or worse depending on what the higher ups sought to be fitting

Unlike Maeve, he wasn’t about to get involved over something trivial as another scumbag bragging about killing kids. While the red headed Banshee might feel good about punching the living shit from the worthless trash, it wouldn’t change anything. The rogue children were likely dead no matter what, either through AMRO or another less stupid Asylum. That was the price for going against someone more powerful than you.

Samad knew the Asylum wasn’t about to suffer for his past actions, or AMRO would’ve done it already the moment he reported and spread the story among the students. Since the organization didn’t seem to think it was important enough to punish the idiot for, this hound wasn’t about to get a stick beating by the master for fighting in the yard and stirring up the other mutts up.

Ignoring the fighting in the background, Samad began to slid off a meat chunk off his first lamb kabob. It had a strong lemon, rosemary and olive oil scent from the grill as he tested the juiciness with a light pinch between his fingers. The liquid oozed out causing him to bite into it, savoring the medium-rare texture. Enjoying the burst of flavor, he began to chew and finish the rest while going for a red onion piece.

His eyes darted upward to see Cade hasn’t touched his plate yet. Instead he was distracted by the fight and undoubtedly debating on how to help the two female asylums. The thought was enough to make his eyes roll in frustration as he finished chewing.

Pausing on eating the red onion, he addressed Cade in a chiding fashion, “Stop staring, eat and don’t forget your medicine. Omar already said he gave you it and that it required food to work properly. I don’t want to be hauling you around in a wheelchair all the time.”

‘Aren’t we….help them?’ Cade asked, ripping his eyes away from the fighting.

As Cade’s mind reached through their imperfect link, Samad heard the broken speech and naturally translated it best he could. It didn’t take a genius to determine how his younger partner felt about the whole situation and what he wanted them to do. Still eating, he emptied his mouth to reply, “No.”

No additional explanation was offered.

“Why now?”

“They brought it on themselves. The Celtic lesbian sharmuta (whore) took the first swing, and shortly authorities will arrive to stop this.”

Cade frowned as he rolled from the table, pulling his wheelchair back. He bent at the waist down to his bag at his legs and began to rummage through it.

“What are you doing now?” Samad said through bites.

“I’m going to help them. Or at least stop this stupid fight before someone gets killed.”

“You can barely walk, one hit and you’re likely to get killed. So eat and stop being an humanitarian, it doesn’t suit an Asylum,” Samad’s words tossed away the concern that Cade had as being childish, but he stopped eating to watch his partner continue to dig into the bag. Realizing the man wasn’t about about listen to facts, the Iranian sighed then gritted his teeth silently for a moment, “Give me your bo staff.”

“What?” Cade paused, then looked at Samad as he righted himself for a moment.

“You heard me. Give me your bo staff and a vial of that blood pressure medication you keep, now. You want me to try to see if I can limit the injuries, you need to stay out of the way and eat. Now… is there anyone you know that will keep you from doing something stupid?” Samad asked, his hands folded under his chin. He waited patiently for Cade’s answer as the Asylum looked about, immediately spotting Audrey and her friend.

Reluctantly, the blonde then passed over his bo staff and a glass bottle then took a look around. He then pointed in Audrey’s direction, “I know her- Samad, what are you doing?!?”

Samad didn’t answer when he snatched up the bo staff, bottle and hooked his cane upon his arm upon his upright standance. Casually he picked up Cade’s still warm plate then plopped it down on his lap. The heat made Cade flinch and immediately jerk it from its place, preventing it from burning anything important. Meanwhile, Samad rolled a still heavily scarred Cade toward the direction he indicated earlier.

Not bothering to ask, Samad spoke to the two girls. He pointed to Audrey first, “Alright, this is Cade and he claims to know you. Watch him, don’t let him get up and make him eat. I’ll be back for him after I stop his complaining.”

Not giving Cade or Audrey any chance to protest or ask questions, the Iranian turned to move back to his table and pick his food up again. Then worked his way into a seat closest, but not directly, into the conflict.

Formaroth: Battle for the Throne

My two cents were said, which honestly... my PCs don't have very much, if any combat skill. :P I'm happy to go with a number skill as long as we all are in agreement story>numbers. If it has a story reason for say Aulus to beat Claus, used due to their differences in that area, then allow it and the numbers be ignored.

Formaroth: Battle for the Throne

<Snipped quote by Wraithblade6>

Yup, saw that one already xP as @ZB1996 says though, that's only for the most skilled people - and unfortunately for me, I doubt Aulus (talented though he is!) is anywhere near that.

Maybe a '10-Tier' System that goes from -10 up to 10 would work? The tiers in the reference sheet can be incorporated by placing them from Tier 5 to Tier 10 respectively (Tier 10 being the highest).

I would obviously opt for not having any kind of fixed tier-system, but as it's already in place, might as well build on it properly ^^'

@Kho

To be honest, and this is me putting in my arena experience and understanding mind you, a tier isn't always going to determine who wins. One thing you need to recall and keep in mind is that power and skill is only one part of the whole fight. There's numerous other factors you need to consider from scenery around you, the condition of your foe, and how well the chess match of blades or whatever actually goes story wise. Mastery doesn't mean you can't learn from a novice a new trick after all.

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

@ReaptheMusic: Alright, fair enough. I'll wait until you've got your CS done before I look it over again.