[IC] They dont call it nothing, do they? Preacher vs ??? (Liseran Thistle)

[Metal Tortoise]

Preacher:

{Is it a hard place or just a place?}

You've seen a abandoned Western Town, havent you? Dusty, rusty, filled with abandoned wood or stone buildings of a variety of makes? Well picture that, only in a sort of forest/plains villa kind of setting. Replace dusty with forest/foliage covered, and you have the abandoned town one Preacher was walking through now. A furrowed brow told the story of how he thought it odd that this was the second kind of establishment he had come across like this but beggars could not be choosers, could they? Pacing upon what looked to be the remnants of a cobble stone road, Preacher turned at one point towards a particular building, standing before it by his lonesome. An Inn, or a former Inn.

Frowning in thought, his stomach rumbled and while Preacher was aware of his ability to hunt, something along the good canned food or well preserved meat was a simple optional with less effort. Nostrils huffing, our Preacher fellow paced on through the decrepit doors of the Inn and inhaled a whiff of dust, vegetation, and aged unkempt building apparatus'. If there was a steady piece of furniture in the expansive old place that would of been safe to sit on, Preacher would of been surprised. Everything looked old and uncared for by years, or so his dark eyes told him. Still, pacing around this and that along a luckily stable floor, Preacher headed to the obvious main source of possible sustenance; a bar top. There, left nearly untouched by nature were various assortments and makes of alcohols. These Preacher gave a look to before hopping over said bar top.

Firm-willed recovering Alcoholics had no interest in such things, old or not, but the locations of such drinks usually held the food, small or otherwise. He was sure there was a kitchen and pantry to look through to, but for now? Unaware of most outside of his direct vicinity, Preacher slowly paced along the back of the bar top, dark eyed sight peering and the nooks and crannies of the thing, at one point pulling out a silver flask to take a sip of the water within. Strangely, like before, there was a sense offoreboding about him, and he acknowledged it...now to maybe see if it was true, and either good or bad.

[Liseran Thistle]

The light in the Inns basement was very dim, but Anvi was able to clearly make out the hand writing on the strap of paper inside of the empty chest. "Better Luck next time" was scrawled in inky black red, with a mocking smiley face drawn next to it. She wanted to scream in frustration, but she knew how Barret liked to play play with her. That old she bitch...I guess its on to another wild goose chase. Barret was her Guild Master, and the woman who took her in about a year ago, and helped her control her powers, or "Krishna's gift", as she had began to call it. Ever since new years, Barret has been training her harder than she did before, and in even more incredibly stupid ways.

As part of her training, and a bet between her and Barret, she has to find something of value that Barret holds dear and bring it back to the guild hall. The only issue is the fact that Barret has hidden it herself, and will only help her through cryptic messages and poetry bullshit. It's been about three days now, and in that time Anvi has scaled about five buildings, burned at least one barn to the ground, and destroyed a not so royal Royal's castle looking for the Gods know what. She took a long seat down on the dirty inn floor, and sighed, tired. She could use for a small nap. Or better yet, Barrets face. So I can punch it in. The inn was just another throw away clue that Barret had laid out for her purposely, just to throw her off completely and make her start all over again.

She laid back on the floor, her arms beneath her head, and closed her eyes to rest a little before moving on to the next clue. She planned to get a tiny nap in, until she heard footsteps above her. Someone else was in the Inn. It's gotta be Barret, she thought. She's come to her senses and has decided to take pity in me. Anvi laughed. Yeah right. She got up, and stretched, knowing full well that Barret would be very disappointed if she didn't at least go and check out what was going on above her. If it was a bunch of bandits looking for loot, they'd probably try to rape her or something stupid like that. Bandits always were trying to pick fights with mages, and they just never seemed to know a mage when they saw one. And if it were some weary traveler, they were probably hoping for food and water, both things that Anvi sincerely lacked. Bandits are easy to get rid of, travelers not so much.

She pocketed Barret's teasing note, and began to ascend the basement stairs.

[Metal Tortoise]

Preacher:

{Innsmouth.}

Said footsteps stopped at one point, our Preacher fellow kneeling and withdrawing what looked like a dusty but sealed pack of shelless peanuts. Sniffing, he scanned the plastic bag for a 'expiration date' and found it, sometime in 2019. This did not guarantee to Preacher they were any good but opening the bag with a soft crinkle and a sniff did. A bit dusty, but naturally so, the way peanuts produced dust. Stopping for a second, withdrawing a silver colored flask from his coat, unscrewing the lid open and taking a long swig of the water inside, fallowing up by popping a peanut or two into his mouth. A crunch further proved they had not gone back and for a moment Preacher shut his eyes, content. His stomach still rumbled but to a lesser extent, nothing another bag or two of peanuts (though a quick look revealed nothing) or a can of something could fix.

Sudden surprise at hearing something not natural to this place though, would not do it, well it silenced his stomach but not in a good way. More of a passive surprised and tensed way. Someone else was here? His head turned towards what looked like a basement door not to far off from him and running directly down the bar top he stood behind. Shifting his shoulders somewhat (but still popping a peanut or two into his mouth), Preacher adjusted the Beam Rifle along his back. Not a hostile gesture, but a simple one Just in case. He did not move though his ears perked further as the steps logically got closer and closer and, twenty feet away, Preacher would be looking directly at Anvi. Silence at first as dark indistinguishable of color eyes gave her a distance one over before, of all things, popping another peanut into his mouth. Slow crunch commenced before he both,finished the peanut and tilted his head back a bit while swallowing it.

"...Ma'am."

Said the dull voice of our Preacher fellow. Drab was it, boring and without mirth, but it carried loud enough to be heard but soft enough to not be imposing. Another awkward pause as he cleared his voice and of all things, lips curled oddly (and in slightly bafflement) he held the half eaten bag of peanuts out towards the girl.

"They're fresh out of the bag if you want any."

For one reason or another, even Preacher didnt know why, but he chided himself mentally. Soooooo awkward...

[Liseran Thistle]

Anvi blinked confused at the strange man who had entered the Inn. She saw he had found some kind of food in this desolate place, but they must be hard as stone now, what with how old this place was to begin with. "Did Barett send you as another clue?" She asked. He looked to be an old church type, one from a long time ago. Well it didn't matter, Barett or not, he couldn't be here. She was going to blow this place to smithereens for the hell of it, and if this guy was here, she'd have some kind of casualty on her hands.

He had a weapon on him though, so this might not be as easy as she had originally planned. "Look, I don't really care to know the next clue. Just get outta here, this place is getting blown to hell in a few minutes." She lightly waved her arm in a slow arc by her side, revealing a slither of floating red sand. "I don't wanna have to force you either, so just take your peanuts and move on." She took a step forward.

[Metal Tortoise]

Preacher:

{Apocalypse Town}

"...Barett?"

The questioning tone of the name probably said it all. Something about a clue to? The statement made him think about a thing or two and he was about to speak up but then he paused. Destruction of the town, the abandoned town was brought up fallowed by what looked like a slither of red sand forming and floating from nowhere somewhat inbetween the both of them. Both of these things made him frown and pocket his peanuts, his sullen tense posture changing, hands coming up to grip the ban of his beam rifle and just look at the woman before him with a befuddled look on his face.

"...Isn't destroying this place a little extreme? I know its abandoned but, could be picked up sometime, maybe be used by wandering travelers or homeless folk like the both of us did."

Sans the food thing, as Preacher was intent (once hopefully diplomatically making this conversation pass) on still raiding that kitchen if he got the chance. Realizing his posture, another mental chiding took place as he lifted his hands in a neutral fashion, frown melting from his face, that thin simple line taking hold again as he stepped forward, a mistake he realized after the fact but, well, he had to try right?

"Can't you just,y a know? Be content blowing this building or part of it up? Not everything has to go at random, dont you think?"

Stated simple and clearly, but none the less, Preacher was secretly at the ready and now confirmed why he had that sense of foreboding.

[Liseran Thistle]

The sand floated by her hip in a lazy arc, as Anvi considered the man's proposition. He was right in a way. Things didn't have to be so random. She thought of this as she remembered the teasing note that Barrett had left her. The guy wasn't with Barett, that much was obvious. But he had a gun, so he couldn't just be here for no reason. That and he looks like a fighter. Throwing him around a bit sounds way more fun than blowing up a bunch of crappy building actually. She lowered her arm, and let the sand drop a little ways near the floor.

"You know old timer, you're right. Things don't have to be so random." Then, without warning, she flicked her wrist and the sand flew so hard at the old man that it knocked him throw the wall, landing him in the street outside. "But I suppose orderly chaos is just as fun as normal chaos." She readied more sand, forming Vishnus Sword in her right, and Krishna's Shield in her left. Barett wouldn't mind if she picked a few fights on her way, and besides, she could totally see the old mage fighting the old man if she were here. That gun was massive. The Shield hadn't had a good blast handed to it in a while, so this was more than a perfect opportunity.

On the bright side, she would get to test her shield. On the down side, that gun could probably blast her a new one if she isn't careful.

[Metal Tortoise]

Preacher:

{Sense of the Sand.}

For a brief moment, the tenseness in Preachers body laxed just ever so slightly. It seemed the girl was seeing reason in his words and he was close to nodding as she began to speak out but there was cause to still be slightly concerned, which is what saved Preacher, along with one other thing. Said thing was, well, truth be told? Looking right at the woman, her attack could not actually be without warning. Nineteen or so feet made this so along with being in clear view, and the minute Anvi moved her wrist, Preacher suddenly twitched and took a bracing posture. The sand which had been floating about lazily around Anvis vicinity then shot forward and without needed to think, Preacher suddenly turned towards lunged over the bar top with a thump, flinching as he landed shoulder first on the opposite side of said bar top, a grim look forming on his face as he heard the inevitable crash of super powered sand smash through the wall that was previously behind him.

One arm pinned beneath him as a result of this evasion, his free arm quickly reached behind him, twisting in a practiced fashioned and did two things. The first was dig into the leather pouch on his right hip, draw forth what looked like a pure steel made sharp tipped bullet, pushed in the backside and tossed it in Anvis general direction. It didnt need to be completely in front or around her, for a second or two after it was tossed, it'd blow up and unleash a potent small wave of force and a decent amount of shrapnel. Simple but versatile was the aptly named Grenade Round and though Preacher wasn't expecting full success (or death, not that he wanted to kill Anvi or anything) it was a good started to what our Preacher fellow found would be quite the sudden chaotic time to come.

The second action after this toss was as simple as it was quick. A reach for his rifle fallowed by a light click. The metal piece around the trigger point had been shifted and locked into place to hold said trigger down. It'd take a bit, but with that bit in place the beam rifle would begin charging its battery pack for potent beam use in the near future.

Lastly and hopefully unseen, inner energies began forming and working over Preachers body. From the depths of his face (and partially obscured by his facial hair) red veins began sprouting and growing as seconds pass, a byproduct of potent Psionic energies being willing to spring to life as Preacher began to evenly push himself from off the ground to roll a bit, then 'sit' on one knee and foot. Simple was as simple does, or so the saying goes.

[Liseran Thistle]

Anvi held her shield up defensively, and found herself molded into the wooden stairwell. Ouch. I guess the bullets are deadly even outside of the gun. Quicker than lightening, she sprang up from the wooden rubble, and summoned a dagger. "Nice bullets. Real fancy. Just one question: how many daggers do you think tills take to dismantle that thing?" She flung the dagger, aiming straight for his foot. "You also think you can tell me where you got it from? I'm asking for a friend."

Barett always did have a soft spots for guns. Maybe if she beat this old guy, she could snatch his gun when he wasn't looking. Or, you know, passed out. That's works too.

[Metal Tortoise]

Preacher:

{Confusion.}

He took the time that Anvi was embedded into the wall to stand, frowning a bit as it seemed he did Something but nothing? Quick working was the way of sand it seemed, in terms of offense and defense. Brushing himself off a tad bit, he flinched as Anvi got out as quickly as she was embedded into the wall. A dagger was produced, he tensed, head tilted at her question and woosh went the dagger towards his foot. Opting not to risk it (summoned things usually did as such, simple looking or not) he did two things. First was avoid the dagger flung towards him. Simple was as simple goes; he slid back on his feet and just in case he needed it, took a few steps, three or four, give or take, backwards after. Second, much like before, his right hand moved towards that leather satchel, gripped one of the things inside it and tossed it towards Anvis direction.

Like before, pre-toss he pushed in the backside of the bullet. Aqua Tip and dark blue colored, the aptly named Freeze Round upon collision with the ground (or Anvi) would erupt in a decent sized splash of water fallowed by a flash freezing amount of liquid nitrogen. It was an odd combo, but the water fallowed by the trailing Nitrogen tended to freeze as fast as the substance and cause quite the trouble for those caught in its icy grasp. Simple and effective but Anvi had asked a question, a confusing one to a degree but he answered none the less, tense as always.

"I made the bullets. The gun was a gift from someone."

If that is what she meant. Said gain was still charging its battery pack, the glass section glowing a brighter shade of red with each passing seconds. Anvi might notice that our Preacher fellows movements were a tad bit swifter then before. This was not random, for the moment he was focusing simple on his Psionic Buffering, his senses and body being powered and energized by Psionic Energies and, well, just starting off as stated but rapidly developing as seconds passed. Veins continued sprouting from the depths of his skin around his eyes, senses were quietly being buffed as were physical abilities and a plan of something further was just Thought of, at the moment. How to, and what to do was the prime question of the day...though at least it seemed like 'killing vibes' werent heavily in the air...