Avatar of knifeman
  • Last Seen: 4 yrs ago
  • Joined: 7 yrs ago
  • Posts: 390 (0.16 / day)
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    1. knifeman 7 yrs ago

Status

Recent Statuses

6 yrs ago
Current taking a break from rping for a little while. i'll be back soon enough but i really need to work on my mental health. hope everyone understands sorry
6 yrs ago
@Mae saaaaaaame
1 like
6 yrs ago
i was literally up all night and i just realized i could have written posts during that time fuck i straight up just read fanfiction and cried for like 6 hours
6 likes
6 yrs ago
saw thor ragnarok the other day and now i really want to do a Sakaar rp but i caaaaaaaan't
1 like
6 yrs ago
sorry in advance to anyone i'm rping with if my posts are slow/kinda bad, my brain isn't working right lately i'm kind of a mess bleh (γ‚·_ _)γ‚·

Bio

Most Recent Posts

π•Άπ–Žπ–†π–—π–† π•Ίπ–˜π–ˆπ–šπ–—π–” // π•Έπ–Žπ–˜π–˜ π•Έπ–šπ–—π–‰π–Šπ–—

⊰ I can’t decide whether you should live or die ⊱
//


While Kiara looks on suspiciously, Miss Murder slowly lowers her gun. β€œAlright. If you’re vouching for him, I’ll believe you.” Kiara addresses Lindemann with a friendly smile, as if she wasn’t just threatening him with death just moments ago, β€œKiara Oscuro.”

Before she can say anything else, a woman appears brandishing a gun and speaking in French. Kiara is immediately on guard; she doesn’t speak French after all, so she has no idea what side she’s on. It seems that the others have it handled, though. She stays back, observing the situation.
π•Άπ–Žπ–†π–—π–† π•Ίπ–˜π–ˆπ–šπ–—π–” // π•Έπ–Žπ–˜π–˜ π•Έπ–šπ–—π–‰π–Šπ–—

⊰ I can’t decide whether you should live or die ⊱
//


Fucking hell, looks like the ballerina’s smarter than she is courageous. Once the grenade is disabled, Kiara attempts to give chase, but quickly decides against it. Really, what can her stand do to someone who can deflect her bullets? Seeing as all the soldiers are taken care of, she approaches Chloe and the apparently-now-friendly man, eyeing him suspiciously.

β€œIf he does try anything, he’ll be decorating my apartment before he can say β€˜Heil.’” To emphasize her point, Miss Murder produces a pistol and aims it at his forehead. Meanwhile, Kiara smooths out her hair, putting it back into place after the skirmish messed it up.

This is an interesting situation, isn’t it? Of course, it’s not the first time she’s seen someone claim to have switched allegiances when things get hairy, but this situation seems a bit different. She’s gotten pretty good at determining whether someone’s trying to get one over on her, but she’s having a hard time figuring this one out.
π•Άπ–Žπ–†π–—π–† π•Ίπ–˜π–ˆπ–šπ–—π–” // π•Έπ–Žπ–˜π–˜ π•Έπ–šπ–—π–‰π–Šπ–—

⊰ Is it time for one last dance? ⊱
//


Fuck! She was distracted and missed an opportunity to get ahead. Now she had two stands aiming blows at her, slow but with plenty of power behind them. While Kiara cursed under her breath, Miss Murder drew her arms back into her shadowy cloak-like mass and leapt backwards, producing two pistols and firing off a few shots at each of them.

Kiara’s attention was caught by what seemed to be some kind of argument between Chloe and The Reaper’s user. They didn’t seem to be fighting anymore. That confused her, so she called over to them while keeping an eye out for the soldiers and the ballerina.

β€œWhat the fuck is going on over there?”

Miss Murder continues shooting at the soldiers to keep them from interfering with whatever Taras and Liliane had planned to deal with the woman.
π•Άπ–Žπ–†π–—π–† π•Ίπ–˜π–ˆπ–šπ–—π–” // π•Έπ–Žπ–˜π–˜ π•Έπ–šπ–—π–‰π–Šπ–—

⊰ Is it time for one last dance? ⊱
//


Okay, Kiara, think. Take stock of the situation, form a plan. There’s the Reaper, currently occupied by Ritz. The user, clearly something up with him and his damn coat. The woman and her stand, deflecting projectiles. The soldiers, practically a fucking hydra, and as much as she’d like to mow them down until there’s no one left to replace them, it’s not exactly an efficient plan. Finally, the hole in the wall, a convenient escape route, but she isn’t one to just cut and run, not before inflicting enough pain to satisfy her.

Miss Murder shoots at the soldiers coming for her, aiming for their torsos. She keeps an eye out for the woman, ready to attempt to trip her up if the opportunity arises.

Damn, the odds really aren’t stacked in their favor, are they? As much as she doesn’t like it, she’s going to have to retreat. She backs up towards the hole in response to Tupolev’s call, but she notices that Yonaka is staying behind, apparently to protect the civilians. That wouldn’t exactly be Kiara’s first priority, but someone should have her back if that’s what she’s set on.

β€œGive us a second, alright?”
π•Άπ–Žπ–†π–—π–† π•Ίπ–˜π–ˆπ–šπ–—π–” // π•Έπ–Žπ–˜π–˜ π•Έπ–šπ–—π–‰π–Šπ–—

⊰ Is it time for one last dance? ⊱
//


Oh, this was getting interesting, wasn’t it? Not just gunmen, but a stand as well, and an ugly motherfucker at that. Kiara backed up slightly from the broken table, her eyes lighting up in excitement.

She responded to the stand’s boast with one of her own, starting with an amicable, casual tone, but turning more intense and unhinged with every word, β€œI dunno, Reaper. You think you can give me a good fight? I’ve been just dying to see some Nazi blood!”

She sent out another hail of bullets at the puppet-like soldiers, aiming first at the stands and then at the men themselves. Best to get them out of the way first, avoid any surprises that might come up as a result of overlooking them.

β€œC’mon, let’s see how almighty the β€˜Aryan race’ really is.”
π•Άπ–Žπ–†π–—π–† π•Ίπ–˜π–ˆπ–šπ–—π–” // π•Έπ–Žπ–˜π–˜ π•Έπ–šπ–—π–‰π–Šπ–—

⊰This world has only one rule / The winner is always right⊱
//


The smell of freshly-baked bread did… something to Kiara. Something like nostalgia from a past life. No matter what it could be called, she wasn’t sure she particularly liked it. It made her feel… soft, which was something that by all means could not happen.

She mostly ignored the dancer’s speech, until she caught the phrase β€œgood aryan blood,” which made her quietly scoff and roll her eyes. As the woman kept talking, however, she was struck with nostalgia of another kind. No, not exactly nostalgia. Familiar anticipation, maybe. Her apprehension was proven right when a crowd of gunmen stormed the restaurant. This wasn't a new situation to her; she had actually been on the other side of it a few times before.

Tupolev flipped the table to create a barrier. Good. She would have done the same if he hadn’t. She ducked behind the table, keeping a close eye for any hostiles that might try to approach them from behind.

She waited out the first hail of bullets, then made her move by summoning Miss Murder. Her stand thrust out an arm, which transformed into a gun similar to the ones the soldiers were carrying. She let out her own barrage, sweeping across their formation in a single line before retreating back behind the barrier.
π•Άπ–Žπ–†π–—π–† π•Ίπ–˜π–ˆπ–šπ–—π–” // π•Έπ–Žπ–˜π–˜ π•Έπ–šπ–—π–‰π–Šπ–—

⊰Come on and twist the knife, let’s make it painful⊱
//


Kiara expected the next bullets coming her direction, and expertly dodged them. As soon as she stepped forward, Miss Murder leapt into action, crossing in front of her and jumping backwards, pushing her away from the mine she had just tripped. She grit her teeth, bracing against both the explosion and the flare of pain from her wound as she regained her balance.

Now, she really doubted that this person only placed a single mine, so she formulated a plan. From Miss Murder’s body emerged two long gun barrels, which riddled the ground in front of them with her own special kind of bullets until they stopped setting off explosions.

Kiara continued her advance, confident that any mines not set off by her barrage would have been rendered fully inoperable.
π•Άπ–Žπ–†π–—π–† π•Ίπ–˜π–ˆπ–šπ–—π–” // π•Έπ–Žπ–˜π–˜ π•Έπ–šπ–—π–‰π–Šπ–—

⊰Come on and twist the knife, let’s make it painful⊱
//


Her approach was cut short, unfortunately. Of course, a fucking tripwire. Her eyes locked onto the bundle of grenades to her left, and she leapt to the right to put space between her and the blast. What she realized too late was that her maneuver put her directly in the path of a bullet (β€œToo late,” in this case, means β€œimmediately after she was hit”).

With a loud curse, she lost her footing and fell, but she still had the sense to angle herself away from the grenades which were still very much a concern. She managed to shield herself behind a tree when they exploded, and she ignored the ringing in her ears to take stock of her condition. Based on how much it hurt, it was likely a high caliber bullet, but it hit with much less power than expected; the sniper had likely pulled the same ricochet trick they had used to hit Chloe. Not a great situation, but nothing she didn't know how to handle.

Miss Murder offered her a shadowy hand that she used to pick herself up. It hurt like a bitch, but she grit her teeth and pushed through it. If this bastard thought they could take her down so easily, they were sorely mistaken.
π•Άπ–Žπ–†π–—π–† π•Ίπ–˜π–ˆπ–šπ–—π–” // π•Έπ–Žπ–˜π–˜ π•Έπ–šπ–—π–‰π–Šπ–—

⊰We’re the empty set just floating through, wrapped in skin⊱
//


Kiara hung back for a second and took stock of the situation. The enemy seemed to have unnatural accuracy, as if they had eyes directly on the group. She considered testing this theory using an unladylike gesture, but thought better of it.

While she searched for any visible enemies, Chloe took the initiative and charged, displaying that she had an ability of her own, represented by a fancy doll-like figure. She produced a cloud of smoke, but it didn’t provide much of an obstacle to what appeared to be a sniper.

Clearly the time for observance had passed. She pressed forward with an uncannily serene expression, a pink aura flaring around her. Her face broke out into a confident smile. It felt like so long sinceγ€ŒMiss Murder」last came out to play.

She was a cloaked figure that seemed to be cut out of the shadows themselves, with a pair of wide eyes that glowed pure white. She approached in lockstep with Kiara, two long pigtails trailing behind her.

God, there was nothing quite like the feeling of anticipation before a good fight. It was like a drug, and Kiara was addicted.

She idly wondered if she’d be able to send home some souvenirs.
oh hell yeah this is cool
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