FF: The Waiting Kingdom
City of Westeros Theme: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X-KkzzmU7zs
The City Of Westeros. A place that used to stand like a brilliant light on Indincerus which was now struck by poverty and despair. The streets were cramped full of people, all desperately trying to work for their living and attempting to survive in the human capital. The death toll was high for the citizens who begged to their ignorant and selfish king for redemption, for assistance in their time of need. The houses were metal boarded, or made of stone and appeared rusted and dirty in many ways, some covered in paint and graffiti from struggling artists, or marked by terrifying gangs that ruled over the streets. It was not a pleasant place to live. Even the market square, once a landmark because of its beautiful marble fountains and cobblestone paths found itself fallen to poverty. The fountain spouting sewage, the statues and statuettes falling apart where they stood as small shacks made of wooden materials or whatever they could find that was nailed together haphazardly. It was by this standard of living that most humans found themselves living. That is, of course, if they weren’t being forced to mine or serve the lords, controlled by brutal Slavemasters who made sure that those sold for a pittance or captured by the Royals knew where their place was as the scum of the earth.
The citizens of the slums, which made up most of the kingdom, they were nothing. Those that found their lives owned by the kingdom were less than nothing. Only few remembered the kingdom that The Don used to rule, the one that started to deteriorate as the moment of The Don’s demise came to be. Yet, even still, the walls of the kingdom were safer that what was outside. Where terrifying beasts and monsters lurked, and even the most skilled warriors found it difficult to return in one piece, lest the monsters ate them, or they were swallowed by the swirling sands of the desert, or worse.
And yet, as the kingdom around them fell to ruins, those who did have money possessed it by the bucketfuls, easily identified by their dazzling mansions, beautiful structures and gardens that were guarded by strong and powerful guards of both Human and Zethian descent and tall golden fences that stood as a mockery to the citizens around them. While their kingdom perished, the lords lived like gods over their ever-dying servants.
It was in this rich district tonight that the young and inexperienced emperor Emile was holding a party for foreign dignitaries and the lords of many cities and races from far away. As they gathered in the main hall of the largest castle, carved from white stone and trimmed with gold, with stairs made of stainless marble and railings that probably cost more than your house, the Emperor watched from his throne, high above his colourful and unique guests with an aura of uncertainty swirling around him. Beside him was a tall and shimmering figure of an important Zethian. So important, in fact, that he was the emperor’s adviser. His armour shined with the lustre of hundreds of lights underneath the lanterns that lit the hall. He was tall, with skinny limbs that moved almost as flawlessly as the organic human body. His hands were ornamented with beautiful gemstones, and the three spikes that stood up above his shoulder blades, bearing the magnificent blue banner of the kingdom, and the same material fell to the floor like the expensive silk it was. His face was hidden behind a metal mask that shielded his glowing red eyes with black lenses and covered his mouth with a metal grate. His name was Mendax, as said by the ornate engraving over his seamless chest piece, and anyone with a brain could see that he was the one pulling the strings tied to the young king’s shoulders. He was still a boy, around 16 or 17 years old, and there was something deep inside him that felt that something wasn’t right about everything.
Of course, at this point he was too far in. He listened to Mendax’s every suggestion, as he was the one who was created for this sort of thing. He was created to be a politician, while Emile was thrown into the role with little thought. Even now, with his magnificent head of golden hair and his red robes and valuable crown, he looked like a boy in his father’s clothes.
“Are you sure this is right, Mendax? It seems a little… Underhanded…” He whispered to his adviser.
If it could have smiled, Mendax would have, “Of course, Your Majesty,” He said, layering on as much pride and assurance as possible, as his cold and mechanical mind meticulously planned out his control without so much as a moral or emotion clogging his mind. They had invited some of the most important of every race, and, via some rather cruel tactics, he would take them all out in one blow, using his carefully made trap. And if it were to be interrupted by something, he could already pass it off as a security protocol. Easy, “All you need to do is say exactly what I told you to say and be your kind and benevolent self.”
Emile gave a small apprehensive nod, but deep down, he knew that there had to be something wrong about this entire endeavor.
But at the same time, he felt that things were going to change. That there was something that was going to happen that night that might change the state of things as he knew it.
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It was not often that X-072 found himself in the presence of the slums of this city, but it was where he was told he would find his next mark. His superior had pulled him away rather suddenly during one of his “discipline sessions” for the challenge of finding another mark. X-072 was not confused by the action, he merely accepted the orders he was given and moved on at his clunky and mechanical pace. He took his job seriously, so he moved at a slow and inconspicuous pace as he scanned the incoming humans that passed him.
There was a limit to inconspicuous when you were a towering being made of metal. But that wasn’t the most important objective at the moment. The most important objective was finding his target and bringing him back to the slave camps for proper demoralization procedures. He repeated the name in his head once more. “Sothe Victus,” was his name. He was supposedly a Samurai Class of impressive skill, but that did little to scare him. Sothe was just another mark in his mind. Another human that would submit under the strength of his whip.
”76% match,” a small voice in his head spoke as his eyes came in contact with a cocky looking face.
“Target identified…” X-072 said in an emotionless and robotic voice. Emotions were unneccesary in his line of work, so he decided to isolate them from his main processing. That didn’t mean they weren’t there, however, but they weren’t important. So, when his target came into view, he wasn’t thinking so much about the people around him. The slot in his right wrist slid open as the large coil rolled out from his wrist fell into position in his hand. Many of the citizens around him began to move out of the way, so, luckily for them, when he lashed at his mark with a loud “Crack!” there was no one around to be hurt, only the sound of collapsing concrete and brick as his whip punched a hole through the wall of a building.
And through the poster that held Sothe’s face.
“Conclusion: Must analyse for proper Humanoid properties before initiating capture protocol,” He said loudly with his mechanical and rhythmic voice as the owner of the store that had a wall punched through it came out to yell at the tin can, but shortly later decided it was better to avoid a fight with the seven foot machine of death.
Zul'ran stared around him. From the outside, the city of Westeros seemed like it was going to be as grand as he'd been told it was... that was before he'd entered the city. The Vorkei stared at the destitution around him and sighed. Well, humans had certainly seen better days. He did take notice that there were a few who had lavish manors with railings that cost more than he could ever afford in his lifetime. "Must be where the lords and ladies live..." he observed to himself, muttering under his breath. As he continued, he saw a couple of Zethians walking around, rounding up some of the humans. "Slavemasters, eh? Using the Zethians for that task was probably their best idea ever, as those robots hardly let their emotions in... this could certainly be interesting." Zul'ran continued to observe his surroundings as he explored the once-great city of Westeros.
At one point, Zul'ran found himself having to dodge out of the way of a particularly violent Zethian that used its whip to put a hole in a wall through a poster of a man. The Black Mage took the time to note the serial number on the glorified hunk of junk: X-072. Zul'ran kept his guard up as he moved on, hoping to avoid having to fight against the Zethian. After all, the tin can would have no issues with beating him to a pulp. The only advantage Zul'ran had was his magic. He could easily slow the 'bot down with a quick Blizzard, or blast it with Fire. Either way, he'd be able to make his escape. The Vorkei did nothing as he continued his way through the streets, observing all he saw.
Shuffling into the plaza was a cart holding the usual inventory of available, purchasable food for the kingdom. Deeply settled into one of it's sacks was an unlikely intruder, now currently eating to her hearts content after trekking across miles and miles of wilderness, as far as she knew she could be anywhere, but the food and small shelter is what made her stay undetected in the rumbling cart. Today, a nice set of apples would do after her small cat nap, she was fortunate enough to come across a small rest stop and happen upon the unloading carts heading across the land, and she happened to sneak her way unto one in just due time. She had to admit it was much more advantageous than being on foot, not only did she have shade and shelter, she had food which needn't be acquired by hunting any longer. Yet, the environment they were located in now was foreign to her as she sat in the back. The gargantuan stone walls that surrounded every precipice of the area, the unnaturally sullen citizens, the guards who seemed to patrol every corner. She felt overwhelmed by the restriction but she would be keeping to herself if it became too much of a problem.
She continued to bite into her apple, unconcerned as she looked around and dropped the core to the streets below, the cart moved at a slow enough pace that she could jump off and be unharmed, eventually she would do this, but not until a stroke of luck (or unluck) came across her way. Suddenly, she wondered how the civilians would take in her appearance, she had saw no tribesmen wandering around the streets of the city, and so it was safe for her to assume that the city folk were unaccustomed to the nature of the people of the wilds, they were far from savage beasts, and they were civilized but in a much more ferocious and personal manner, they were delegated to treating only people of their own clan or tribe with the upmost respect even criminals could be treated with more respect in comparison to strangers, they were not attunted to attacking strangers outright like some presume, but only of said stranger were to meddle or deface the honor of the tribe in any way. Ravielle was slightly appreciative of her status as a single individual, there were times when her mentor Daten even threatened to marry her off to a suitor from one of the surrounding tribes for her behavior, luckily that plan never came to fruition. She couldn't imagine being stranded inside of a village with other women, while the men hunted and she stayed at home bearing the scars of childbirth. This was probably one of her greatest fears, being home ridden and stuck with annoying children, she knew she wouldn't be able to stand it, or at least the temperament she had at the moment wouldn't be able to handle it. She manuvered her feet down which now hung at the edge of the cart swinging, anticipating her next move. It was then that the cart stopped, and the owner turned to watch a- robot (?) whip right through the wall, of what she assumed was either his shop or where he planned to unload his supplies. Ravi had to take a double look before she jumped off the cart, she was struck by disbelief, to think that a whip could do that much damage, more so that a robot was now simply disregarding the mess. Considering her upbringing in the wilds she has seen little variation in species most were humans growing up in tribes, and she swore she spotted one of those canine species, and winged humans within some of those tribes but she had no name to designate them with, simply the features that came with them, although the robots were certainly a new concept for her. She jumped off the cart, grabbing her backpack of supplies, the owner relinquishing his spot to gage the damage on the wall while she walked away, unsure of where to head next.
She took another curious look at the machinery and noticed just how tall the thing was now in comparison to when she sat in an elevated position. She wanted to question it, but felt that maybe he was busy with something much more important especially if she considered the now destroyed wall, she meandered closer to the spectators, some of the stares now obviously directed towards her and then back to the wall. This was certainly turning out to be an intriguing city.
Draenae Arvell looked down onto the city below with some disdain, why would they treat each other that way? She sighed and waved politely to a passing food cart, the driver of which gave her a strange look. As it passed, Draenae turned around and went back to analysing the monster she'd killed, it wasn't much in the way of physical strength but it had some elemental power which boosted it's worth upwards. "Poor thing" she murmured and promptly removed its horn, which she could later grind into powder. "This monster's horn acts like an explosive except for its tendency to create a blast of ice, not fire, once thrown." she spoke mainly to herself but she was repeating what her father had told her once, when he'd been alive and training her in Blue magic. "Still needs a trigger though" Draenae added and she sheathed her knife, wrapped the powder up into a bag and placed it in her inventory. Then, when she looked up, she took in the city again and decided she might as well visit while she was here, though she hoped she didn't have to put up with obnoxious 'Humans'.
However, once Draenae had passed the gates of the city she realised, she shouldn't have worried, the humans were more worried about themselves than they were about her. Looking around she thought she saw the back of another Vorkei but thought it better not to find out, as most Vorkei didn't see Blue magic as a real branch of magic itself. Draenae also saw a Zethian, X-072 standing by an utterly destroyed wall while others looked on, including the cart driver who had passed her not long ago. Out of the side of her eye she caught a strangely-dressed human leaving the cart and Draenae laughed, why hadn't she thought of that?
As she stood there, she remembered that she needed to go and buy some items, but had no idea where to go, she decided to start at the top, the castle, and find her way down from there. Though now she had to find the castle, "Why didn't you give me a map of this place father? Maybe you thought I was good enough to do everything by myself?" Draenae mused out loud as she started walking, heading uphill as she went. Draenae was intelligent, but only average in terms of Vorkei, she wasn't the best magician, but she was brilliant in the blue mage field, having analysed several monsters, their attacks, vitality and so on. The only thing Draenae was not very good at was being able to retain the attacks she saw, as she had not learned how to yet, she could only copy them for a short amount of time, at the longest a day. Draenae, being deep in thought didn't realise that she had passed the other Vorkei and not offered a greeting, she would normally have apologised but in between being deep in thought and occasionally socially awkward, she did not.
Sothe was walking to his favourite food stand when he decided it was taking too long getting between there and the awning he slept under. He called it home. He took a back alley when he was approached by three men he recognized as members of his old gang. “Getcha hands up punk.” The man who seemed to lead the other two said while pulling back his shirt revealing a sword. Sothe was usually a pretty energetic guy but he hadn’t even had his food yet. “If you reach for the sword I’m gonna kill you, kay?” Sothe asked tilting his head slightly to the side and putting his hands on the back of his head. “Simple as that.” He muttered at the other two men who seemed to be contemplating it. But Sothe knew they wouldn’t make a move so he looked them straight in the eyes moving his head only two inches away from the leaders. “Well then looks like you live today, punk.” Sothe said obviously making his voice deeper and manlier in an attempt to mock the man. “Well buh-bye ladies!” Sothe said and immediately ran off flashing a peace sign with his hand, katana in toe. It was only about ten seconds later that the men noticed Sothe had stolen a pipe a trench coat. Before they could argue he had slipped into the ever-growing crowd and become completely hidden from sight. Sothe laughed to himself as he looked at his new pipe and trench coat. While they didn’t look very traditional or like some a samurai would wear, he chose to keep them. Perhaps for the same reason, this way people would not except him to be a samurai, especially with his tendency to be a bit of a loud mouth. But alas he eventually reached the food cart, bought a snack and continued down the path into the main market district.
He was headed to the market district because he had heard rumors about a mysterious and large robot there. He couldn’t help but want to see it and apparently it was a slave driver as well. Sothe laughed to himself as he thought about a Zethian slave driver, what were the odds. However he couldn’t help but think they’d be better at it than Humans. Sothe now deep in thought hardly noticed when he walked past a wanted poster of himself. He immediately backed up and stared at it hard for a few moments. “This is…” Sothe trailed off almost as if he was deep in thought. “AWESOME!” Sothe shouted out for the world to hear, he was amazed at the detail of the hand drawn picture he even grabbed it off the wall and decided to keep it for himself. However it wasn’t long before he found his giant robotic friend standing not ten feet away from him staring down an identical poster. It was silent for a brief moment before the machine retrieved a whip from its arm and lashed it at the wall which supported the poster, destroying the entire wall. “Whoah…” Sothe was in complete shock, to think that a whip could do so much damage to a structure like that. Sothe couldn't help it any longer he finally walked up to the Zethian and stared at it, he didn’t intend to move until he saw how it would react. Sothe of course was not the brightest of Samurai.
Miciah was walking gently down towards the clearing of the primary market district when she noticed she was getting quite a few stares. She attributed this to her somewhat large wings and marking that took up a large portion of her body. The sun reflecting off her pale skin gave the wings and tattoos an almost heavenly glow to them and it seemed like nobody could take they’re eyes off of her. But she didn’t care because she was already too busy looking at everyone else, it was nothing like where she was from. The town was riddled with poverty and crime, mostly theft but also murder and rape. It was truly a hell on earth and for the first time in her life Miciah truly felt terribly for all the children born into the chaos that would not be resolved. However she steeled her nerves and decided to go search for an inn so that she could catch a quick nap before heading out deeper into the town. She instead found herself in a pub, Miciah’s weakness. You see, the difference between angels and Valkyries were two simple things. Angels were servants of god whereas Valkyries served the greater good and their own citizens and the final difference was that Angels were perfect beings who never sinned. This, however was not the case for Valkyrie’s each had their own vice that constantly threatened to consume them, for Miciah, it was alcohol. She had suffered from some relatively severe post-traumatic stress after being release from the war efforts and ever since when she is having a bout of bad memories she drinks them away.
Regardless Miciah found herself getting drunk as she decided there was no time for it and her task at hand was much too important to lose track of because of a few ales. So she gathered herself and left the pub too her surprise in the main marketing district there was a huge almost 7 foot Zethian standing staring at a wall. At first she couldn’t help but wonder if he was one of those mechanical butlers she had heard about but before long he sent his whip crashing through the side of the building and through the wall. Miciah noted how strong the Zethian was and decided it unwise to anger him or any of his colleagues. However she then noticed something even stranger, a young man walked up to the Zethian and began staring at the Zethian. However now that she had seen the destructive capabilities at hand, she was not prepared to help out the young man. She instead sarcastically warned the young man about the Zethian shouting out “Easy kid he’ll tear you apart.” She then walked down main street to see what she could find.
The Emperor sat nervously in his throne as he watched his guests interact from afar. It didn't take too long for him to notice that a split seemed to have appeared in the room, the Caitians and Luceten moving over to one side as the Louao and Valkyrie moved over to the other. He supposed that this was going to happen naturally, but the sort of rift it created made him slightly uncomfortable as the human and Zethian servants and nobles alike wove in between the two groups alongside the Vorkei, Kodane and Moogles of high descent. To the Emperor, it was strange that Mendax guessed that they were poised on invading their Kingdom. They seemed to be relatively tame and friendly... But, he might be missing the subtlety of it, like Mendax often suggested.
"Everything alright, Your Majesty?" Mendax's shimmering figure bent down beside him.
"Yes, thank you," Emile replied quickly, his eyes darting away from the machine, not wanting to lock eyes with it. Then, there was a loud trumpet noise that caught the entire hall's attention as four Moogle envoys floated into the room, carrying a sort of chest between them. A human probably could have lifted it on its own, but the weight was a little much for the little critters.
"As thanks for His Majesty's hospitality," A moogle standing on top of the chest announced in a loud and formal voice, "We would like to present to you this mighty Growth Crystal that we had procured, kupo."
The chest was placed on the ground, and it was opened quickly to reveal what looked like a rose bloom of pink-hued crystals. Mendax's eyes were dazzled by the sparkly display and, if he had a mouth, it would have twisted into a sinister smile. It seemed that the creatures' friendliness not only led them into the trap that he had prepared, but they had also brought gifts with them. A Growth Crystal Flower, no less. Mendax quickly ordered one of the Zethian servants in the room to pick it up and lead it back into the personal quarters of his Emperor.
Time was starting to tick away before his trap would be sprung.
Though it was much against his intentions, X-072 wasn't happy to see the large crowd that had herded around him at his technical blunder. Mistakes were not something that he made mostly, so to have it immortalized in such a way was not something that he was quite satisfied with. Any normal being would have told them all to walk away, and move along, but he wasn't a normal person, and he thought that wasting such time on words was not a way to remedy the damages done to his reputation and the wall in front of him. He paused a moment, remembering once again that it was imperative for him to follow his objective and capture his mark, so that he could be brought in to the slave camps.
Hold on, it appeared that some sort of organic being was attempting to oppose him, unlike the rest that seemed to be bystanders in the situation, afraid to engage with such a deadly opponent. His lens-like eyes looked down below him, where he saw a human being that was about a foot shorter than him. His face was familiar too, and based off the weapon by his side, this opponent was a Samurai Class, known for their incredible agility and dedication to their blades. But this face was too familiar for 7 to push him away as just another human being.
"Identity Match: 92.4%. Target acquired." The little voice echoed in his head. Of course it was a familiar face. It was the face of his mark. He was nearly sure of it. But, just so he didn't make the same mistake, he had to do one more check...
"Initiate Biological Scan," he vocalized to the crowd, though he assumed that most would dismiss it as technological nonsense for which Zethians were known.
"Biological Scan: Life Signs Normal. Strengths and Stamina: Above Average. Taming Possiblility: Minimal. Race Analysis: Human." the voice echoed once more. This time he was sure of it. He was positive that this Samurai was his mark, and that he was to be brought in for enslavement immediately. First, he had to administer the Surrender Protocol, however.
"Human Samurai Sothe Victus: You are to be brought in for enslavement and work for His Majesty Emperor Emile. If you comply, minimal damage will come to your system. However,"
A small pulse went through 7's hand and into his whip, which, to the shock and surprise of the crowd, caused it to spark with electricity, making the whip give of a dull white luminescence which sometimes was brightened by the sudden bolt of electricity that would jump from the whip occasionally.
"If you do not comply with this order, severe punishment and disciple will be administered before detainment. Is this understood?" He demanded, reciting the lines he had said time and time before as he took a step back from the man and flicked his whip absently into the air. It made its loud cracking sound again, but it also sent out sparks of electricity into the air, which quickly dissipated before they could fall back down.
He was in full out capture mode now.
Zul'ran had to duck at the electricity that came out of the whip. He smiled. Taking on this guy would have been a big mistake for a lot of people. Apparently not for the guy named "Sothe", as he was staring the Zethian down like a dog would stare at another for encroaching on its territory. Zul'ran decided to explore around a bit more, and was passed by another Vorkei before he could-- "Wait a minute... another Vorkei? Here in the Human capital? This is getting more and more interesting..."" he muttered to himself. He then caught up to the Vorkei. He could see that she was dressed like a blue mage. He chuckled a little at this. Not too many of his kinsmen saw Blue Magic as true magic, but Zul'ran did not hold that same thought. After all, who else could copy a monster's technique? Not too many, as he'd seen some try and fail. He decided to try to speak to her, hoping he hadn't startled her with his chuckle. "Excuse me, miss, but may I ask why a Vorkei such as yourself is hanging around here in the capital of Humans? It's piqued my curiosity, you see..." he said as politely as he could muster, his body ready to grab his staff and pull a quick Fire if necessary. He felt the staff beneath his Black Mage robes, and was glad that a Thief hadn't grabbed it yet.
Noel Ptyra crossed her arms, frowned, and sat down on a small wooden crate with a huff. Westeros had proven to be more a of nuisance than she though it would be. Things had been progressively getting worse since the beginning of the week when she arrived. The discontent Luceten sighed and raised her hand to better situate her hood over her horns. The humans didn't care much about her heritage, but there was suddenly a large number of outsiders from every race present in the city today. She decided to be a little more careful than usual in light of this development. Apparently it was on account of some soiree that king Emile was throwing or some such nonsense. All that mattered was that it was harder to move about the city undetected.
Things had just started looking up when she laid her eyes upon the outer wall of Westeros 7 days ago. She finally had solid information about her target and she was ready to make her move. The human capital was her latest stop on her four-year-long quest to apprehend Eldrin Saer. Immediately upon entering the city, Noel's senses were offended. During her travels she had seen plenty of poverty, especially within human settlements, but this was over the top. It wasn't the filth or living conditions that bothered the Luceten, but it was the massive amount of people living in them. The streets were cluttered with Humans. Shop owners attempting to drum up business, children scurrying about, beggars pleading for food and gil all frothed about in a living heap in almost every street in the city. At first, Noel kept to streets where she could move rather freely, avoiding the busiest of passages. But this proved counterproductive to her goal, so she accepted that she would have to muddle through crowds of people and continued onward. She finally reached the current residence of Eldrin. It was then that things started to go downhill.
Each time that Noel would locate her quarry he would slip out of her grasp. He simply navigated the city far more efficiently than she did. Noel didn't even think that he knew that she had found him. He was going about as he did everyday, slinking through alleys and crowds moving as quickly and easily the birds that flew overhead. Days past as Noel attempted to make contact with Eldrin in the city to no avail. Just when she was finally getting the hang of navigating such large crowds the new flood of outsiders poured in and complicated things further. Not only were the streets of Westeros packed to the brim, but now she was looking for one Luceten out of many. It was infuriating. The crate creaked as Noel found a more comfortable position for her tail underneath her cloak. She released another sigh given life by a mixture of aggravation and disappointment. After all the work she had done for the past week she had finally lost Eldrin's trail today. She was totally at a loss.
Noel wanted to get out of this city as soon as possible. The only redeeming factor was that she was able to make some gil by performing in the streets. Entertainment was hard to come by for these people and they would pay money, though only a trifling amount, to be distracted from their day to day misery. The humans didn't seem to mind that Noel was a Luceten. They had bigger problems to deal with than foolish racial quarrels that didn't concern them. However, with the appearance of all these travelers and party guests, most especially the Valkyries, performing would prove fruitless. Noel looked back out at the grimy mod in the street in front of her. People were pushing, shoving, pulling on cloaks and stumbling. It almost made her sick just looking at it.
"How can people stand to be clustered up like that. Its unbearable.] Just as Noel was about to turn away from the group in front of her something caught her eye. "Wait, whats that..? That couldn't be him, could it?!" She focused in on one man in particular. Noel didn't have a trace of doubt in her mind. It was Eldrin! There was no mistaking his clothing and she easily recognized the way he moved through the crowd.
Noel dashed after him. She pursued him through alleys and similar small passages until she entered onto one of the main thoroughfares of the city. It was then when everything went straight to hell. Noel examined the scene around her there was a group of people cautiously staring at a Zethain brandishing what appeared to be a whip spouting sparks of lightning across from a gaping hole in a building. He had his gaze set on some human standing directly in front of him. But she had no time to pay attention to such unimportant things. Eldrin was nearly out of vision as he darted behind the Zethian. Noel pursued him quickly. Just as she passed behind the two who were staring each other down, a Louao pup stepped on her cloak. She stumbled sideways, plowing into the whip-wielder.
He had only just finished announcing his protocol when his focus on his task once again proved to be a flaw to his system. His electrical whip was set to Ready Mode; he was assuming that the opponent would surrender in the face of his weapon, as that is what an intelligent being would do when he decided to reveal the dangerous presence of the law that would be coming down on his mark. Instead, his actual skill as a beast tamer and slave driver was being questioned once again as another cloaked being toppled into his systems and knocked his feet off balance. A light shove was all it took because the weight of his chest was enough to send him falling to the muddy, dirty ground, creating a huge clanging metal sound that echoed through the streets as the mud splattered across his shoulder plates and towards the crowds. Many of which didn't quite manage to avoid the oncoming mud due simply to the density of the area.
Now, the problem with a top-heavy guy like 7 was that, when he had fallen over, his body was not designed for righting himself and getting to push his body of the ground fluidly. Perhaps a Zethian that had been designed for a Ninja Class might have been able to get up as effectively as human, but, seeing as he was built for power instead of agility, it would take him quite a few precious seconds of time more to right himself and elevate his body off the ground. He deactivated the electricity as he fell, preventing further disaster by him shocking himself or an innocent citizen. Needless to say, he was not amused, or disappointed, for that matter. We’ve been over this. Emotions are not important or necessary to X-072. He did find it a little irritating that it was getting in the way of him completing his task and being done with it.
At this point, he knew that his priority was getting back on his feet, as he suspected that the mark might take the time of his defenselessness to at least escape him, or worse, he might take a more offensive approach. He found that it wasn't above certain beings to take on an enemy after they had been knocked down. 7 increased the power moving into his legs as he flipped onto his chest, getting dirt and mud stained across his bronze-like exterior. He was tempted to utilize his Stun ability, but with so many targets around of varying different bodily functions and ability, it would be nearly impossible for him to target an opponent at this level of power.
It took him a little effort to spin his arms into the right position, the ticking noise growing faster as the gears spun into different positions all over his body. He was lucky enough to avoid getting a rock stuck in one of his large shoulder cogs. And then, he pushed himself up into a position where he could bend his knees under his body, taking even more time to do so while keeping his balance and push himself back up with far too much difficulty. He wasn't designed to lie down on the ground. With a little elevation, at least he could use the ground as a way of righting himself once more. His eyes glanced back quickly as he stood up to discover who the aggressor was, or rather, if it was an intentional act, which would make them an accomplice and thus, just as guilty as the mark, or whether it was an accident, which, in the density of this crowd, made much more sense and result in no reprimand or punishment. Besides, he didn't need another objective at the moment. Subduing his mark was his objective. Still, at least for the records, he needed some data on the one who had run into him.
“Biological Scan: Bodily Functions: increased levels of adrenaline. Strengths and Stamina: Optimal Agility and Dexterity. Hostility: Null. Taming Possibility: Minimal. Race Analysis: Luceten.” The voice of his analyzer spoke once more into his head. The sound of gears ticking and motors whirring around was loud as he pushed himself back to his feet, looking first at the female that had interrupted his apprehension of his mark, and then to the spot where Sothe, in a world that complied with X-072's goals, would have remained standing. His probability generator was making large calculations into what the human's reaction would be. The odds appeared to be slim.
“I would suggest you watch your step in the future,” X-072 droned to the girl quickly as his head spun back to where it was before and he took his place standing in a tall, but menacing pose. Though he doubted it, there was still a small sense of hope that the human would remain in place and prevent a strenuous chase from taking place. He needed to finish his objective, and at this point, he was wasting time.
Draenae jumped when she heard the voice behind her, she hadn't even noticed the laugh, a good thing, though if she had she'd have shouted at him because she would have thought he was mocking her profession. Looking around, she noticed that it was the other Vorkei, she pondered his words for a second and decided that since he'd spoken politely she would have to reply in kind for as her father told her, "Draenae, you may think you have more in common with monsters, but you're wrong. Please talk to people and you might find out just how wrong." she had never believed this but she might as well do as her father wished.
"I would ask the same of you, good sir." she gave a smile, thinking she might get the hang of chatting at some point "I am here because it was my father's wish that I should travel, and I want to analyse as many monsters as I can." She looked him up and down and suddenly realised that he was a Black Mage, her smile slipped for split second as she ignored the fear that rose in her. Draenae had a fear of most Black mages because of the immense power one could wield. It took a little willpower, but she managed to put her smile back on, "He may be powerful, but he's not openly confronted me, well.. yet." Draenae thought to herself and added "But enough about me, what is a Vorkel like you doing here?" She wondered to herself what he had meant by 'like yourself' but decided it didn't really mean anything.