Avatar of Hillan

Status

Recent Statuses

5 mos ago
Current Imagine not knowing about the schenanigans that coding-wizard got into on Iwaku... There's no post formatting that man can't harness for his unholy machinations.
2 likes
10 mos ago
What do you call a bunch of billionaires at the bottom of the ocean? A good start.
3 likes
11 mos ago
My girl got a yeast infection. Make bread with that, call it hole grain
3 likes
12 mos ago
"Jason" is a name from ancient greece that sounds like it was made up in the united states in 1979.
5 likes
1 yr ago
I can roll with all the punches, if you hold a couple back. I can handle being broke, but I can't stand to be so sad.
3 likes

Bio

I have 3 mottos here in life, really.




Most Recent Posts

ADAM KAYNES
"Are you scared of the dark?"

P L A C E H O L D E R


Adam Abraham Kaynes
______________________________________________________
01/01/2002 | 17 | Caucasian
______________________________________________________
Hetero || Player
______________________________________________________
Senior | Antique Platinum Ring | Corvah The Immortal
D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E:

If James Dean had survived to the 21st century, he'd look absolutely nothing like Adam. However, Adam likes to think he's got the 21st century Mr.Dean look going for him. Between the gelled hair, the cigarette behind his ear and his leather jacket or wool coat, depending on the season and weather. He wears band T-shirts under his jacket to school, and of course a pair of ripped jeans and converse, maybe a pair of ankle-high boots if it's really cold outside.

He's pale, he doesn't enjoy being in the sun very much and would rather spend the day flirting or getting into trouble rather than engaging in sports. Not that you could tell that the guy spends every weekend drinking beer and hitting on college girls as his metabolism is still working overtime. He stands at humble 180 centimeter and weighs in at 70 kilo, a lean, athletic frame from his time on the swimming team as well as his decade long endeavor into karate.

He's got a few scars, wounds that never healed right, but nothing too notable. He's got a pentagram tattoo'd on his chest and a egyptian Ankh on his collarbone, one end of the ankh peaks can be seen down his neckline through his T-shirts.

When working he wears chinos and a dress shirt as well as a shamanistic necklace made out of animal bones, his hair's a little wilder and he dons a longer trenchcoat as well as a pair of dark sunglasess, regardless of the light source inside.
M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:

You ever wanted to play the character who's the smartest in the room? Well, that's not Adam. He's not book-smart, he's barely street smart. The guy's got very little going for him except grit. Due to his hobbies and background, I think he's gonna be a lot of fun of having his perceived, and faked identity clash with what he learns about his true heritage from Crestwood. When the one field of expertise he's cultivated over the years turns out to be completely wrong, perhaps he's gonna get presented with a choice. Adapt or die.
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:

Adam is an occultist. Not in a Tumblr-Ouija board kind of way. He's not a Wiccan, he's not even a pagan. He's not a psychic and he's not a medium. He's not a wizard and he's not an exorcist. He's not a demonologist and he's no hero.

He's a conman, a conman who's turned his fascination of the occult and the beliefs of the occult into a trade. He's running a succesful social media career as all of the things that he isn't. Where he takes cases as a paranormal investigator and solves poeple's supernatural problems. Except, of course, he knows they're all placebo. He's a showman, and a grifter. He doesn't believe a word of the things he breach, he knows all of the occult books in the world are just that - books. Stories. Made up. Not real.

There is nothing but people that go bump in the night. There are no monsters under the bed. And the only reason to keep the lights out in the hallway when you go to sleep is to make sure that your newest foster parents don't try to do any fuckery while you're asleep.

This all of course clashes with the to him, unknown fact that he's of the long line of magically-endowed individuals reaching all the way back to ancient Egypt. And that fact's gonna make itself painfully clear in the coming months of his life.
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

The Talon Of Platina; A ring made out of platinum during the 15th century in Spain. Made by a powerful Draoi who for centuries made enchantments for the Magni community. The Talon is one of the first conduits ever made out of platinum in a age when the world thought platinum was just impurities in gold.

Corvah The Immortal: Corvah's a small European Crow from Italy, Florence to be exact. His species have been the chosen corporeal form of the familiars of the Kaynes line for centuries. The moniker 'The immortal' is born from the fact that all of the Kaynes familiars look the same and share the same name. Corvah's actually the 214th Corvah, but that's too many 'Juniors' too put behind a name. Corvah actually become a Magni familiar in 1951, when Adam's father, Maximilian was born. Maximilian died shortly after Adam's birth when he was murdered by a Hellion, and with his dying might he cast a spell on Corvah so that the crow would not perish too - or worse, lose his spirit and become feral, a monster himself. Corvah was bonded to Adam when Adam was born, but the crow didn't survive his original partner's passing without scars. The familiar's not much of a guardian angel, but instead chaos and destruction has followed Adam his entire life, starting with the death of his mother when he was an infant. Corvah's life is a taboo in the Magni community and if a more experienced Magni would learn the truth, both Adam and Corvah's lives would be in danger.

This looks like fake news.

Luckily for you, that's all I read.

<Snipped quote by JunkMail>

I still this going downhill faster than my GPA.


You're body's made out of 93% water

and daddy's thirsty


Daddy's home.


Location: Rockerfeller Plaza, New York City, New York



Jason was standing next to the important people, rubbing elbows with the finest prospective donators for the Wayne Foundation. He was gonna be brought up during the speech to demonstrate how the foundation can make a difference for young boys in Gotham, he'd tell the sobstory about his criminal backstory and how he with dignity and thanks to compassion could become an upstanding young man, soon to be an adult and a fully functioning member of society. Even becoming the ward of the esteemed billionaire Bruce Wayne.

The interview went relatively painless, Mr.Rosswell, the guy who was gonna run the new youth center introduced Mr.Todd as the speaker sent by Bruce Wayne himself, his latest ward. Jason walked onto the stage and laughed nervously. He cleared his throat, about to speak when he saw something outside the window, an explosion, the windows shook and he felt his Bat-senses kick in.

"What the fu-" The Bat-Brat let out before an explosion rocked the building, a gastank of some kind blew just under the building, demolishing the windows and knocking out the power. Jason was thrown to the floor, along with everyone else.

He crawled to his feet before everyone else, his jacket ripped on the right shoulder. He looked out the broken window and saw a handful of green monsters flying outside, following something as they paid no attention to the civilians inside.

Today of all days. Jason thought, looking around for anyone seriously wounded. He saw the the Security guards were tending to anyone who had been injured, so he could slip away from the crowd in the confusion. He'd run towards the garage. To the car.

But before he could make it out of the lobby, a stray green monster had found it's way into the building, perhaps separated from it's pack. It swung it's spear at Jason, the boy dodged under the blade, sliding across the tiled floor, the monster swept with it's tail, he sprung up onto his feet and did a flip over the tail, dashing behind a table as the green laser came flying after him, stopped by the table it collided with.

Jason ran into the stairway as the elevators were all offline. The staircase door was ripped off by the hulking beast who didn't enjoy the fact that his prey got away, chasing him down the stairs. Jason jumped over the ledge, grabbing the ledge three meters down, hopping from ledge to ledge as quickly as he could, descending the building into the parking garage below. The beast couldn't fly properly in the stairway that was too narrow for his wings, ripping down the railing as he was in pursuit of the boy. Jason turned the corner, untying his sash around his waist and turning it into a make-shift rope. When the monster came around, Jason jumped onto his back, using the sash as a blindfold to blind the monster, dodging his blind strikes at his back while he yanked at it.

He was not strong enough to do anything here. Finally, the monster tore the sash in two with it's claws, prompting Jason to leap off him, onto the railing above, onto the second floor of the parking garage.

"Thanks for the lift!" He shouted, rolling away from the incoming beam. Sprinting towards the car that was now in view.

"I hate alien tech." He cursed under his breath, turning on his smartwatch and putting in the code to unlock the secret trunk of the car. "Nightwing's a Dick" his fingers typed as he ran. The trunk clicked open and Jason saw the beast come after him, he pulled the trunk open in panic and liften the reinforced suitcase as the beam was fired, turning around and using the case as a shield.

The beam was deflected and Jason was knocked on his back, rolling backwards and back onto his feet. The case was reinforced with material Bruce had gotten from S.T.A.R and as far as the Robin knew, it was indestructible. He opened a hatch on the side, pulling out one Batarang, as he didn't have time to grab the entire suit, this would have to do.

Jason circled the car as the alien followed him, sliding under it to appear on the other side, feinting the creature, slapping him with the case with one hand, spinning around and hitting him again with the case now held in both hands. The monster slid backwards, more annoyed than hurt by the hit. Jason hurled the case at him, hitting him in the face again. Jumping and kicking off the falling case for extra momentum, the Boy Wonder flipped in the air as he jammed the batarang into the monster's eye. Purple blood spurted as the beast cried in pain. Jason ducked under the beast, behind his back as he triggered the electronics in the weapon shocking the enemy. He eyed the foes weapon but it wasn't losing it's grip just yet.

"Eat this." And with a press of a button, the stuck batarang exploded, forcing the beast to fall backwards onto Jason whom pressured it's legs with his body weight, felling the monster, and in doing so he could grab the weapon from it. In one swift motion he turned the spear around and jabbed it into the chest. He aimed for the right shoulder, but he had no clue about the monster's anatomy, but that usually did the trick. He had watched Bruce fight aliens before, and in general he wasn't as concerned about preserving alien life as he was human.

Which seemed like a morale issue in general, but, perhaps that's an argument for another time. Jason had a city to save. His alerts informed him that there were hundreds, if not thousands of these things flying around New York. And considering he had almost died fighting one of them...

This can only end well.
Apologies for the delay, I've had a busy week but have now been getting back into the swing of things. However, before I start working on a post, I guess I want to ask whether this thing is still going? I know it's a busy time of year, so slow posting is understandable, but don't want to spend time writing if people have dropped, etc


Robin's still here. Gonna post.
Kuhn made his way to the castle after the big announcement, the battle was over and the war was won. He got up from the nest he had made on in the building across the street from the Quartz base of operations, sighing as he let Goldenrod wheel out of his sight, the cross hair excitingly tracking the crippled Boss's face till he was out of view.

"Not today, you son of the devil." He cursed, softly, unloading the bullet from the gun, catching it in mid-air as it was flung out of the chamber.
He dismantled his rifle, placing it back into the bag and slinging the bag across his shoulders and onto his back. He had to go check on "The Hero Of Melonberry." as it were.

There was no way he could foresee that going to his Captain's head. No way at all.

He arrived at the vault while the guards were arresting Saff, they were cleaning up Chester and taking Cerulean into custody. Chester was awake, although just barely. They were bandaging him up. Kuhn let out a soft whistle to indicate how impressed he was with the destruction caused in here.

"You really let all out, didn't you, Cap'n?" The gunner asked, Cerulean was in shackles, still unconscious being dragged away. Kuhn nodded a greeting towards the Leader of the Azure Company. He eyed Saff and how the guards who were handling him were being extra careful - too careful. He immediately understood they were imposters, or bribed. They weren't taking Saff to the dungeon. They were taking him right back to Goldenrod.

Kuhn could've said something, but he let it go. He'd handle Goldenrod another day. Kuhn saw Lina and smiled.
"Did you handle Saff, little lady?" He asked, surprised.

Chester sat against the wall, rubbing his eyes, wearily.
"Kuhn, hi." He spoke between deep, pained breaths.
"C-Come closer." He spoke softly, Kuhn felt concern wash over him, was Chesters wounds that severe? Was he seriously hurt?

The gunner kneeled down next to his captain.

"What is it, Cap'n?" He asked, genuinely and Chester took a deep breath.
"Get.. Me a drink. Please." He begged, painfully. And Kuhn scoffed. He whistled at one of the medics to grab the strongest alcohol they had, one of the soldiers found a bottle of wine in the vault and looked to his king for permission, but before the king could do anything, kuhn snatched the bottle and cracked it open, handling it to Chester, whom downed it immediately and sprung up onto his feet.

Reinvigorated, he smiled, widely. The medics who minutes before had been bandaging, tending to his life-threatening wounds looked on in horror. Kuhn smiled.
"He does this all the time." The gunner said softly.

Chester looked around, at the thrashed vault and castle before turning to Kuhn, Lina and Macario.

"Let's freaking PARTY!" He exclaimed, chugging the bottle.

Back slamming against the vault door, Johannes bounced shakily, barely staying on his feet. Free hand brushing his hair to the side, a face running with blood glared down at Cerulean, the Boss still unmarred, his stance relaxed and at ease.

Gritting his teeth, Johannes charged, hopping into the air, halberd swinging from behind him, arcing through the arc as it came down upon Cerulean, stopping dead, pinned with the tilting of his head against his shoulder. Wrestling it free, Johannes flipped his grip, swinging it from the other side at the freshly exposed flesh, but even though Cerulean didn’t move, it bounced harmlessly off with a scrape of metal, the skin glowing with a metallic sheen.

Johannes growled, “It was a Devil Fruit then…”

Lifting his wrist, Cerulean’s hand curled, the fingers becoming bladed. “Caught on fast enough.” Sliding one leg away, Cerulean bent his legs before lunging forward, shooting his palm out. Johannes took a step back, blocking it with the shaft of his halberd. Cerulean grabbed hold, keeping it steady as his other arm swooped in, fingers all pointed together. The hand twisted into a drill before continually twisting, spinning with a dull screeching towards Johannes’ armor. He tried to lift his halberd to block, but it was still stuck. The drill hand tore through his breastplate like it were plaster, Johannes’ body shuddering from the rough movement of the drill, its sound muddled by the flow of blood. Lifting his arm, the drilling stopped as Johannes lost the strength to hold his weapon, the halberd clattering to the ground. Holding Cerulean aloft, his hand gripping his armor, Cerulean tossed him aside, the knight clattering to the ground.

Rolling his neck over his shoulder, Cerulean raised both of his hands, twisting them into drills. “If I’d known you were that much of a push over I’d have taken you out myself yesterday, just like Chester…” With a horrid wail, the door screeched as the drills came into contact, beginning to peel away at the metal, sparks flying. Within, the king and queen kept close to each other, the still tired Lina grimacing as she brought her blade to bear.

Suddenly the drilling stopped, Cerulean gasping out in shock. Turning to look, he saw Johannes behind him, the point of the halberd dug into his skin, even through the metal it reflexively became, though not deep. “That hurt,” Cerulean growed, elbowing Johannes away, the weakened man stumbling to the ground. As he tried to crawl to safety, Cerulean stepped down on his leg, pinning him. The knight grunting in pain, Cerulean pointed out a thumb, leaning down to put its bladed edge against Johannes’ throat. “The strength to never give up isn’t really strength if you can never win. Not that you’d have been any better off giving up, but maybe you’d have lived.” Pushing the thumb to one side of his through and digging in, blood running, he finished, “Maybe.”

Marv looked up from his place in the flooring where the knight had left him before, regaining consciousness he saw Cerulean dealing with the pesky knight and a smile was on his face, till he felt the pressure of a boot on the back of his head, forcing his face down back onto the stone floor where he had lied before, knocking him out again. Chester leapt towards Cerulean and threw a fist out, towards the Boss’ face, knocking him off Johannes before he could slit his throat. His fist colliding with his let out a metallic echo, like striking a sword with a stick. “Want to try to kill me again, asshole?!” Chester shouted, his wounds had begun healing from his last encounter with Cerulean, but the X-mark on his chest still widely visible through his mostly torn shirt.

As Johannes collapsed to the ground, Cerulean glared, holding his expression for a few moments. Face still glaring, he looked around, before muttering, “Am I not doing it?”

Chester turned to Johannes and nodded. “Yeah, damn straight. You lie down there and rest knightboy. It’s time for the big dogs to tussle.” And then Chester turned to Cerulean. “You’re not doing anything. I’m beating you down, once and for all. And this time, nobody’s gonna drug me and drag me onto a boat.”

Cerulean reached into his pocket, pulling out a hand mirror and examining his own glare. Face finally relaxing, he growled, “No, I was doing my terrifying glare, but you weren’t terrified.” Tossing the mirror aside and raising his hands, which became bladed, he said, “Which must mean I beat you so bad you forgot about it.”

“You’re just not that scary.” Chester responded, putting his fists up and rushing Cerulean, trying to get in close to the man, making up for his lack of reach that way. “And hitting a guy who’s not looking isn’t very sporting.” He said, throwing a punch. Cerulean raised a hand, aiming to catch it, but it slipped by his paw, smacking against steel skin. Casually, Cerulean took his other arm and gripped Chester’s at the elbow, blades digging in. Chester shot a look at Cerulean, cursing under his breath as he swung again, his fist colliding with Cerulean’s gut, sending vibrations through his hand Cerulean’s metal body let out a ringing sound, as if striking a bell. Chester got in closer and delivered a shoulder tackle, rubbing Cerulean’s footing and making him let go of Chester’s other arm, which was now bleeding from the bladed fingers that cut like talons.

Regaining his stance, Cerulean simply brushed himself off, unharmed. Shaking his head, he grumbled, “Look at you, you’re a disgusting mess. Do you even bathe? You’re just weak. You got lucky so far but nothing you try to do matters, because I’m stronger.”

Chester looked at Cerulean, while ripping the last shreds of his shirt off, bandaging his arm with it, biting down on the cloth while he tied a knot to secure the makeshift bandage. “You’re talking a lot of shit for someone who’s entire organization’s been dismantled by a booze lover and his group of misfits.” Chester responded with a cold tone. Putting his guard back up. “You think you being able to deflect swords are gonna save you from me? Sooner or later. You’re gonna get tired, and I’m gonna pummel you into metal dust.”

Cerulean snorted. “That’s rich coming from a puddle of blood.” Height raising just a smidgen, round blades on his feet propped him up, crossed across his feet like a screw drill. Without moving his legs, they spun up, drawing lines in the stone as he scraped his way towards Chester, both arms crossed over his chest, forearms growing stiff blades. Chester was holding back laughter as he saw the boss come scraping towards him. “It’s like an idiot on iceskate- Oh boy” He cut himself off, rolling out of the way as Cerulean picked up speed and came at him. While Cerulean was charging, he kicked at his back from the side. Cerulean grunted as he screeched off course, digging one hand into the rock to slow him as he knocked into one of the walls. Eyes falling to Johannes, on the ground several feet behind Chester, Cerulean shot him a knowing grin before the blades on his feet spun again, aiming for Chester with Johannes just beyond. Chester looked at Cerulean and rolled his eyes “You’re really this dumb? You think I’m not just gonna dodge again” Chester asked, getting ready to jump out of the way, only to catch Johannes in his peripheral vision. ”Shit.” Chester uttered as Cerulean came charging at him. He took a moment and focused, as Cerulean was only a couple feet in front of him, he smashed his hand down onto the ground, releasing vibrations into the ground that cracked the stone flooring, making the terrain far rougher for Cerulean. Chester dove backwards onto his back to try and get more distance from Cerulean, who’s eyes went wide as he dove into the cracked ground. Rather than skate across the relatively smooth surface, the blades tearing and breaking the ground even more as they went across it, until they couldn’t. Cerulean flailed as he stumbled, falling face first onto the cracked pavement.

Chester leapt back up onto his feet from his back, standing on top of Cerulean and having a smirk on his face. “Look who’s eating gravel. If it ain’t Mr. High and Mighty.” He taunted, He raised his fist towards the downed Cerulean, it vibrating till it almost blurred, as he hesitated for a second. “Get up. You tripped like an idiot. I didn’t strike you down.” Chester demanded, refraining from taking his free shot on the Chief.

Face darkening, Cerulean got to his knees, blades sprouting from his knuckles. Shooting up, he went into an uppercut, snarling, “Weakness! Everything you are is weak!” The attack caught Chester by the chest and the chin, scratching him up as he skidded backwards, without falling. He winced in pain from the wounding attack, but he still kept his jaw clenched. He turned to Cerulean to face him. “That really your best shot?” The pirate taunted, keeping his fist by his side, vibrating it.

“Winning the battle is everything! I’ll always give my best shot even while you run away.” Clenching both his fists, he spat, “All I fight are cowards, and you’re no exception.” Slowly walking forward, his arms stayed at his sides, face locked into a glare. Chester’s look of determination, clenched jaw and wide gaze didn’t falter, as he walked towards Cerulean, as well, staring him down as the two got closer, when they were standing in arms reach of another, Chester’s arm shot up in an uppercut aiming to rattle Cerulean’s head with his devil fruit. His step slowed, but once again he was unhurt, his own fist jabbing into Chester’s side, knuckles still bladed. Chester winched at the pain, Palmstriking Cerulean with both his hands, the force forcing him to slide across the tunnel, away from Chester, the blades clawing up Chester’s side as he did. Chester heard a weak voice from behind him, followed by the clacking of metal.

Seeing Johannes, his gauntlets on the ground in between the two, the man looked up at Chester, grunting, “You’re...well, inept as a leader, but you’ve somehow gathered respectable comrades behind you. And I hate to admit it but you’re strong. You may not have my heart behind you…” Johannes stopped to catch his breath, blood still staining the floor. “...But I will give you a hand,” he finished, nodding at the gauntlets. Chester was hunched over him, looking at the gauntlets, nodding. “You softened him up.” The pirate flashed a smile at Johannes, as the dark shadow of Cerulean creeped up behind him, the metal man aiming a strike at the pirate. Chester turned around, whipping the Boss with the metal gauntlet in the face, before putting them on while his opponent recovered.

“You think a pair of gloves is going to help you?” Cerulean growled, before digging his claws into the ground, pushing forward and raising them, the ground splintering as the cuts traveled through the ground at Chester.

Chester saw the cuts coming for him and jammed his gloved hand into the ground, releasing vibrational shockwave that counteracted the attack, protecting both him and Johannes behind him from harm. Chester properly strapped the gloves to his arms, as he started walking towards Cerulean. “No, I don’t need the help. But they’ll make the knight over there feel like he’s part of this win.” Chester responded cockily, throwing a downward punch, like a hammer at Cerulean’s shoulder. He snorted, “You-” but his words were cut short, the fist hitting against his iron shoulder, denting it more easily, Cerulean’s leg buckling from the blow. Chester went for the uppercut from below, striking him and knocking Cerulean into the air before he fell onto his back on the floor.

Grasping his chin, Cerulean stood again, scoffing, “Is this a joke? A little bit of metal between you and me and suddenly it actually hurts.” Sprouting circular coils on his chest and arms, they began to spin, threatening to shred anything that came into contact. Spreading his arms, he lurched over, aiming to pull Chester into a bear hug. Chester lept backwards as Cerulean dove onto him, his smaller frame allowed him to narrowly escape the chipper attack, aiming a punch for Cerulean’s unguarded area - the face. Metal against metal rang out and Chester was struck by the edges of two of the blades, one on the shoulder and one on the collar while fist planted itself in Cerulean’s jaw. Stunned, Cerulean backed up, staggering away as he shook his head, grunting, “When was the last time I got hit like that?”

“A second ago” Chester taunted, dashing in and hitting Cerulean in the face again, decking him to the ground. Chester spoke in his best Knightly impression, “The thing you don’t understand, Cerulean. Is that it’s not about the metal on a warrior’s arm that matters. It’s the metal in the warrior’s heart that wins a fight. And you? You’re soft.” He continued, delivering a kick to Cerulean’s ribs. Chester pointed behind him, to Johannes. “That guy over there? He has more heart than the both of us. He’s a better warrior than you, than me. He’s stronger than both of us. And I don’t think you can handle that.” Spinning his arm around into a windmill punch, striking Cerulean again to illustrate his point. The bigger man, punched in the stomach, slumped down to his knees, breathing heavily.

Looking down at his two hands, he glanced up at Chester’s gauntlets, muttering, “I’m this weak?” Shoulders slumping in defeat, his eyes trailed across the ground, spotting something. Mouth curling into a snarl, he growled, “I’ll never be weak no matter what it takes.” Hopping up, he snatched Johannes’ halberd off the ground, holding it in one hand as he aimed it towards Chester, lunging at him point first. Chester raised an eyebrow as Cerulean came charging at him. He was already too fast for Chester to just deflect the attack, he simply had to move out of the way. He rolled to the side as Cerulean came charging, shouting after him “You missed, idiot!” As Cerulean passed, his foot came up at Chester, cutting into his stomach and knocking him back a bit. Bouncing to a stop, he pulled the halberd back and swung in down, angling it at the fallen Johannes. “Come closer, arms behind your back so I can hit you. Do anything funny and, well…” Cerulean nodded at the fallen knight, before insisting, “I have all the power here.”

Chester looked at Cerulean, then at the fallen knight, then back at Cerulean and gritted his teeth. “Coward.” He insisted, spitting on the ground in front of him. He walked towards Cerulean, with determination. “You know I never did like that guy, right? If you wanted to hold me hostage, you should’ve threatened the little girl whom I assume is in the vault, protecting the king and queen. Her, I actually like. Kill the knight, if you want. I’ll just do to you what you do to him.” Chester promised, making a fist out of his hand. As Cerulean was about to strike Johannes, Chester put up his hand. “Wait, stop. I lied. Hit me.” He offered, standing down on one knee, hands behind his back.

Grinning Cerulean took a few steps to Chester, dropping the weapon on the ground out of reach of either of them. Cracking his knuckles, he slugged Chester square across the face, the fist not even metal, enjoying the feeling of flesh smashing into flesh for the first time in a long time. Continuing to use Chester as a punching bag, he struck, waited for Chester to recover, before striking again. When he was too slow Cerulean grabbed him by the hair, pulling him into the next punch.

Chester’s mouth was full of blood as he opened it to speak. “That all you got, weakling?” He taunted again, spitting a tooth at Cerulean. Snarling, Cerulean redoubled his efforts, staining his knuckles red, blood dripping to the floor, until Chester finally collapsed. Turning away Cerulean went for the door.

Chester crawled onto his knuckles, pushing himself off the floor. “Is… Is that all you got?” He taunted, putting his leg to the ground, standing on his one knee. “Can’t muster the strength to kill me? Figures you were too weak to do that.”

Cerulean cackled, hands curling into drills once again. “At this point I don’t think I need to.” Kicking the halberd over by the door, glancing over at Johannes on the ground, Cerulean said, “I’m already the strongest.” Jabbing the hands into where they were drilling before, he continued his dig.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Chester shouted between painful winches. He was spitting blood as the dark red liquid poured down his face, his lip and eyebrow were both busted, he had a black eye and his cheeks were swollen. The wound on his side had dripped blood all the way down his shorts. “The fight’s here. I’m not done with you yet.” He said under his breath, trying to crawl onto his feet.

Laughing over the screeching of metal on the vault door, Cerulean said, “You’re done when I say you’re done.” Gritting his teeth, he let out a shout, one more wrenching noise being heard as he shoved his hands through the lock. The door shuddering, Cerulean grabbed it and pulled it open. “And I say: you’re all done.”

The king and queen audibly gasped, huddling in the back of the vault. Dried blood on her shoulder, Lina took a breath, holding up her blade. “Oh? What’s this, you look like you’re from Melonberry.”

Lina’s eyes looked passed him, falling onto Chester. Eyes flashing red, she snarled, blade striking against Cerulean, each strike seeming to sound 5 times. The neck, the eyes, the heart: Lina’s strikes were decisive yet each bounced harmlessly, Lina continuing to growl in anger. Snorting, Cerulean reached out a hand, grabbing Lina by the collar of her dress and lifting her off the ground. Choking, her anger began to fade, shifting to terror. Cerulean remarked, “Ah, that’s right, the upstart, Reno. You must be the sister.” Flicking his other thumb, it formed a curved blade, which found its way to her throat. “Melonberry isn’t a problem any more but you’re in my way.” Lina’s sword jabbed at him to no avail, her eyes looking back at Chester, helpless.
As her eyes swept over Chester, he wasn’t there anymore. She would see him springing into the air with the halberd in his hand, leaping at Cerulean and plunging the metal end into his back, pushing the end once it had dug itself sufficiently deep into his back, his body too weary from their fight to create thick enough metal to protect him. When Chester pushed the handle, Cerulean wa flung, spinning around, only to get jabbed in the face by the Pirate, whom was dripping blood all over the place. Staggering, Cerulean dropped Lina, stamping his boot to regain footing before raising both of his arms, slapping his hands together, a small flurry of cuts ripping through the air at Chester.

He pulled his arm back and released his attack, the vibrations tearing through the air and destroying Cerulean’s cuts, before the blast hit Cerulean in the face, knocking the wind out of him. Chester kneed him in the face, jabbed him again and punched him in the stomach, before finally uppercutting him to the floor, in the middle of the vault, Johannes glove on the right hand cracked under the pressure of Chester’s fist and Cerulean’s jaw.

As Cerulean hit the ground, Chester put his knee in his stomach, sitting on him and mauling his torso, each hit cracking the ground as the vibrations traveled through both of their bodies into the ground under them. He was grunting as he took off the gauntlet from his hand, and grabbed it with both and strarted plunging it into the now unconscious Cerulean, each hit more blood poured from his side, till eventually, Chester ran out of energy and fell to the side, leaving a several feet deep indention where Cerulean laid.

“Piece of shit. You, servant. Give me a beer.” He mumbled, pointing at the king before fainting.
Kuhn, The Deadeye of Dust City and Elaina Dart, Chief Veridian. Had been staring at each other for what felt like an eternity. Not moving, just gazing into the other marksman’s eyes. Knowing full well that today might be the day that either of them dies. It would all come down to which one of them could draw their weapon first. Kuhn had his revolver in it’s holster, Elaina her crossbow on her hip. Firing mechanic on a crossbow was faster than the gun, but the bullet travels faster than the arrow.

“I know you’re skilled, gunner. But that’s not all it’s gonna take to defeat me and my company. Fate’s on my side. My bow channels destiny.”

“Mon ami, beautiful lady. You’re da bottle-girl, aren’t ya?” Kuhn asked, flicking his hat upwards, looking at her and winking in her direction, a confident smile on his face. Thinking back to his time in Dust City. His home, as it were.

***

Kuhn and Eli, his peer and fellow student, taught by Master Guille in the way of the gun. They were practicing their marksmanship, a duel, as it were. Kuhn’s hair was shorter, he was only 15 at the time, Eli was taller, had olive skin and dark hair and was dressed in a similar western-style as Kuhn, same age as Kuhn. They each had two revolvers in their hands, pointed at the other. Master Guille was cleaning his spectacles, before hooking them to his ears, seeing through them, raising his hand indicating that the boys should get ready. He pulled down his hand with force, telling the two children to begin their duel.

Kuhn fired first, his bullets tearing through the air, Eli dodged to the side, the bullets only striking the cloth of his poncho, making new holes in them, he responded in kind. Three bullets swirling past Kuhn as the man dodged by bending backwards, putting the revolver in his left hand in his three bottom fingers, using his thumb and index to balance himself as he pushed off the ground with his one hand, backflipping. As he flipped, the swung his right hand gun in the direction of Eli, aiming with precision and grace, a bullet tore, striking Eli’s revolver directly in the pipe, blocking the gun from firing again and destroying the pipe.

“Sonovabitch!” Eli shouted, tossing his broken gun into the sand, using his now free hand to fan the hammer. Kuhn dodged downwards, rolling to the side, Eli pirouetted to dodge the bullets Kuhn shot at him. Kuhn fired the remaining bullets in his chambers while Eli did the same, fanning the hammer to match the dual-pistols Kuhn had in his possession, both of them possessed such dexterity that the bullets would collide in mid air, and the bullet would ricochet off Kuhn’s bullet, and hit the second one. While they were firing, they kept walking towards the other, no fear in their gaze as they shot each bullet out of the air, dirtying the ground with casings and broken bullets.Until they finally stood face to face, Eli threw a bunch, Kuhn dodged to the side. He tried to whip him with his pistol, but Eli ducked, swiping Kuhn’s leg. Opening the chamber in his gun effortlessly, he put in two bullets into the chamber, turning towards Kuhn to stick the gun in his face, he was met by Kuhn having done the same, The one-eyed gunner panting as he laid in the dirt. He fired missing Eli barely, grazing his cheek, leaving a wound.

Guile called the duel a win for Kuhn.
“That’s 3 wins for Kuhn and 8 for Eli. You’re catching up, Kuhn. Remember to mind your footwork. Good job striking the chamber of the gun. But don’t get cocky, kids. There’s far better gunners out there than you.” The old man said, his long-gun sitting on his hip, the cigar in his mouth and the hat Kuhn would one-day inherent adorned his grizzled face as a smile cracked through his face.

“Now, let’s get some food.” He commanded and the boys agreed. Eli helping Kuhn up, as Kuhn was quick to bring the med-kit to stitch up Eli’s wound.

***

“You want to play more games with me, my beautiful?” Kuhn asked and Elaina blushed for a second

“Your skill with a gun is without question, Kuhn. I’ve heard from Goldenrod that you’re something of an artisan when it comes to powder and steel. The bottle trick was really neat. But, I’m here to challenge you to a game of fate.”

“Oh, a gamble?” Kuhn asked, his interest piqued.

“Yes, quite.” Elaina said, her face curling into a smile.

“You ever heard of Shinran Roulette?” The Chief asked as her eyes lit up.

“Can’t say dat I have, cheri.” Kuhn shook his head.

“What’s dat about?” He continued. And Elaina chuckled and pulled out a small case, a few inches tall and half a foot wide.

“Inside here are two firearms, six shooters with six bullets to be loaded into the gun.” She began, picking up one of the firearms, putting one bullet in, and spinning the barrel. Putting the case onto the ground and kicking it over to Kuhn.
“There is no skill involved in this. You aim the gun at your own head and you fire. There’s a 1-in-six chance you’ll blow your own head off. Fate decides if you live or die. Are you willing to put your life in the hands of destiny?”

Kuhn scruffed his scruffy cheek and investigated the gun. It was a six-shooter. Well made, expensive gun. Of course, it had nothing on his own long-gun, but it was still a fine firearm. Kuhn put a bullet in as he stared Elaina down, spinning the chamber as he locked the gun.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I thought you were all about dat nature life. Do you even know how to use a gun my lovely?” He asked and Elaina nodded.

“It’s not my first rodeo, Cowboy.” She said, putting the gun softly to her temple, pulling the trigger. Kuhn flinched a little as she did, but the gun clicked. No bullet was fired.
Kuhn put the gun to his own temple and pulled the trigger, calmly. Nothing. He reloaded his gun with two bullets and fired the trigger again. He kicked the case to Elaina who then loaded the gun with two bullets, and fired them at herself.

They did this dance back and forth, adding bullets in the chamber. Three, Four. They didn’t speak, tensions were running high. They both knew the risks, they had calculated the odds of the gun firing a bullet. Sure, they had incredible dexterity and were both intentionally spinning the chamber so that the odds were in their favor, but just like a dice-roll, you couldn’t make up for luck with skill. There would come a point where fate would outmatch their skill.

With five bullets in the chamber, Kuhn’s hand was trembling a little, Elaina stared focused at him. He swallowed hard as he pulled the trigger. The gun clicked. The firing chamber was empty. No bullet.

Kuhn put down to gun to his waist and kicked the case over to her, didn’t speak a word.

“You’re luckier than most, Deadeye. But you will not beat me. Destiny favors me.” Elaina tryed to puff herself up, but the cold look from Kuhn showed that the gunner saw straight through her. He knew how scared she was. But he didn’t offer her a way out.

She loaded the fifth bullet into the chamber and put the gun to her head, firing. It clicked.

She sighed with relief.

“I win.” She said, as Kuhn would have to load the shooter with six bullets next. And Kuhn shook his head.

“This duel will not end in a draw, my love. Give me the case.” He said and Elaina flinched. Was this guy serious?!

She reluctantly kicked the case to him and he caught it with his foot, casually.
“You’ll die.” She said and Kuhn smiled.
“Maybe. But I wouldn’t be much of a gunner if I did.” Quoting words his friend Eli told him before he died.

He put the final bullet into the chamber and took a deep breath.

“You decide, Fate. You DECIDE!” He exclaimed. Putting all of his chips on this all-in. He was committed to believing in the way of the gun. That his patron saints and goddess of gunfire wouldn’t fail him.

He pulled the trigger.

The gun jammed. He dropped the gun to the ground. Kicking the case with 1 bullet remaining back to Elaina.

“Your turn.” He demanded and she was shaking all the way from her feet to her head.

“H-How did you! You cheated!” She cried and Kuhn shook his head.

“Just lucky. Fate deemed me worthy. Are you?” He questioned her, harshly.

He loaded the gun and with a shaky hand put it towards her head. As she put pressure on the trigger, she fell down. Fainted from the pressure.

Kuhn walked over to her as she slowly opener her eyes again.

“I guess Fate’s on my side. Don’t get in my way, my love. Or I will draw my gun. And that never jams.” He promised her, heading towards the castle. He had a country to defend.
If by artful and eccentric you mean bloated and lacking aesthetic, sure, you're right.


Don't be a hater, hater.

© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet