DrabberRogue

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

There we go, posted!

Sorry about taking a while. Fell off the writing horse again last week...

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

The woman's body was cold.

Her lack of a pulse left a somber, unsettling emptiness in its wake. This had once been a person. Whatever she was like, whatever plans she'd had, whatever bonds she'd formed, she was gone now. It was a tragic awareness that Arcturus had become familiar with. Though he'd never quite grown used to it.

Distinctly unfamiliar to him however was what appeared to be the cause of her death. Whatever had blackened her veins and paled her flesh. Never before had he seen a body in such a state. Still more perplexing was the fact that she had died at all, presumably taken by whatever disease had brought her to the very place they were in. Wherever that was. Had the patients lined up upon those many cots not all been treated with Yharnam blood? Was not that very substance said to be a cure to all illnesses? Such were the rumors that had brought him to the reclusive city in the first place, after all.

Perhaps some skepticism, caution even, was warranted. Even after experiencing the results of the treatment for himself. Whatever the cause, this woman had died despite having received Yharnam's so called panacea. Assuming she had received it at all, of course, but he figured that was likely a safe assumption to make.

That train of thought was abruptly interrupted when suddenly a group of those small, ethereal seeming creatures from before burst out of the floor. Surrounding him. Reflexively Arcturus sprang back to his feet, taking in a sharp breath as his startled heart leaped in his chest. Before he could take much more action, however, he realized just what they were. Remembering how they had proved themselves harmless before. These strange, otherworldly looking... 'little men,' as coined by the man calling himself Marcus.

Slowly the young officer let his breath back out in sigh, staring curiously down at the odd creatures around him as he allowed himself to relax somewhat. Taking another glance around the room, he noted that they had appeared near the other two as well. Gesturing and moaning with animated movements. It was somewhat... Endearing. Though their inexplicable presence still left him slightly uncomfortable. By this point he was relatively confident in the reality of the situation. That it wasn't a dream, that all the surreal things he had witnessed over the last several minutes had truly happened. The sensation of being kicked across the room had certainly been evidence enough of that. Yet he still couldn't help questioning what he was seeing. Only the reactions of his new allies provided reassurance enough that he was not, in fact, hallucinating.

It was the sound of approaching footsteps that pulled his attention away from the uncanny yet friendly seeming creatures at his feet. Arcturus turned his head to regard the other man, his icy blue eyes briefly doing a once over of... T-... However that name was pronounced. He dare not attempt to say it out loud until he heard it more clearly. This man looked to be well worn. Callused, tanned, and scarred. Yet the way he carried himself did not strike Arcturus as particularly experienced. At least not experienced in the way he tended to look for. Still the man looked quite strong, and seemed comfortable with the axe in his hand. The young man wasn't quite sure what to think of this. Perhaps this muscled man had trained to use an axe, but never seen combat? That explanation would be odd, if true, and still didn't quite fit.

Lastly it looked like there was something off about the other man's face. His jaw looked crooked, as if broken, or more accurately as if broken in the past. So that might be why Arcturus couldn't understand a word of what he'd overheard earlier. Presumably. His piercing stare didn't linger long on that feature, however, as the older man waved and gestured towards the door. Arching an eyebrow at the choice of communication, he glanced towards the doorway to see that Marcus had already gone through. Emanating from that same exit he could hear the fading footfalls of fleeing men.

The sound caused his heart to pound faster in his chest, an involuntary reaction that caught Arcturus off guard. It was the opportunity of a fleeing foe, engraved into his instincts, triggering an unsettling urge. An aggressive impulse that bordered on predatory. He noticed his breaths quicken, his hand tightening slightly around the hilt of his sword, as he felt a desire to pursue. It was only for a moment however, as he drew in a deep breath and further straightened his already rigid posture. Discipline, Arcturus.

Putting a cordial smile on his face, Arcturus swiftly turned his gaze back to the man next to him, issuing a brief nod before drawing in breath to speak.
"We should get our bearings, determine where exactly we are..." He began, heading towards the broken doorway where the ethereal 'little men' beckoned. That small opening which not long before had served as crucial buffer against their still unidentified foes. Despite the uncertainty of the situation and the unnatural impulse he'd just felt, Arcturus spoke with a confident tone. Maintaining an air that he knew what he was doing even if he was perhaps the most lost person in the room. Every word enunciated with a refined yet foreign accent.
"...and why we were..." 'Attacked' is how he'd intended to finish that sentence. However the words died on his lips as he reached the door, his bright eyes peering into the blood covered room.

The pleasant hue of scarlet assaulted his eyes as they first fixed upon the unusual lamp and the assembly of yet more little men surrounding it. As well as the rolled up parchment seemingly being presented to Marcus by two of their number. Experience nagged at him to evaluate the room, so after a couple seconds of gawking he then turned his attention to the corpses whom had surely bled that which coated the floor. One of the corpses lying before him looked much like the men who earlier had peered in it at them. A fallen enemy. However not as notable as the two bodies which lie in the corner of the room.

One looked to be freakishly tall and unnervingly pale, with a bell and a cane lying nearby. The bell, no doubt. Just the memory of its haunting sound sent a shiver down his spine. The body looked to have been completely cleaved in half, and he didn't have to look very hard to find a probable culprit. Another body, this one dressed in attire of an ecclesiastical fashion, was completely drenched in blood. Far more blood than he would have expected considering the scope of the fight and the injuries of the bodies. Lying next to that figure was a likely, if absurd, candidate for the weapon that had silenced the bell. A truly massive sword, decorated with a beautiful pattern along its impractically thick blade. He would have dismissed it as a purely ceremonial weapon, were it not for the mind boggling feats of strength and resilience he had already witnessed since he awoke. Not to mention the blood clearly splattered all along its length.

Finally his eyes settled on a small figure on the other side of the room, draped in white. He'd almost failed to notice her. Young, delicate, innocent. The last kind of person he would have expected to find in the aftermath of a skirmish. What was she doing in such a place? Arcturus' eyes drifted back to the blood drenched man on the ground, where a pair of those little men were tugging at the pouch on the his hip. It was then that he noticed the man's hand moving. It was a small, weak, yet still unmistakable sign of life.

He gave a brief, uncertain glance towards the other two before making up his mind. Quickly he strode further into the room, setting his saber down next to the massive blade as he knelt beside the blood covered man. Hurriedly he scanned the body for whatever injuries might have incapacitated this person, something that might justify all that blood, before turning his attention to the pouch. What could it contain that a dying man would consider it important enough to retrieve? After a moment of hesitation, glancing at the stranger's face, he took it upon himself to open the pouch and see what it contained.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

It happened again...

Sorry I vanished so abruptly once more. Guess I wasn't quite ready to begin posting again... This time I decided I'd lead my return with a post, so hopefully I'm actually back now.

Also I don't mind if you take control of Arcturus for a bit to move him over to the sidelines when I take too long. I don't want the rp to be held back if for whatever reason I end up taking forever again.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

A faint pain had shot up Arcturus' arm when his saber had come to an abrupt and unexpected halt against the beast man's shin. It felt as if he'd just tried to strike a tree! It was not the creature's unnaturally tough bones that had caught him by surprise, however. No, it was what had followed the ringing of that accursed bell, as his grotesque foe was seemingly possessed by an otherworldly rage. Again he leapt into action as it let out an ear rending roar, wrenching his weapon from its leg in order to defend himself, but he had not anticipated the speed of its furious strike. Not reacting quickly enough to evade, Arcturus had reflexively swept his sword into the path of the oncoming strike, muscle memory taking over as his body tried to prevent a serious blow.

However his hasty attempt to parry had never met the oncoming blades. The beast's fearsome strike had been interrupted by another man, jumping into the fray just in time. Not that Arcturus had much time to appreciate his new ally. In place of blades the frenzied beast had instead sent its foot, impacting him squarely in the stomach and launching him backwards. He felt his breath knocked from his lungs as a sharp pain shot through his abdomen, followed shortly by the distinctly uncomfortable sensation of crashing into the cots behind him. He landed on one cot in particular, sending both him and its occupant tumbling to the floor as the force of his impact overturned it.

Arcturus was no stranger to having his breath knocked from him. He had fallen from a horse more than once in the line of duty, made to choke on gunsmoke amidst the fire and carnage of the battlefield. After but a few moments taken to regain his bearings, glancing back in the direction of the fighting to make sure the beast wasn't trying to press its advantage, the young man had pushed himself back up into a kneeling position. Taking a deep breath as he did so.

Almost immediately he felt a sharp pain above his stomach, causing him to exhale that air in a grunt of pain. Taking shallower breaths, he had knelt there between the cots, clutching his abdomen with his left hand and gripping the hilt of his sword hard with his right. It was then that he had noticed something odd about the other person whose bed he had overturned. Something unnatural, something sickly. The patient was a woman, her pale skin laced with an unnerving web of blackened veins. Arcturus had never seen anything like it.

Any thoughts of the pain in his torso faded as his unsettled mind briefly wondered what had happened to her. What sort of disease could have caused such a condition. Unless...

Arcturus almost missed the end of the fight, his attention swiftly returning to the beast as their newest comrade managed to snap the neck of the gnarled thing that had opened the encounter. An event that seemed to coincide with the silencing of that infernal bell. A sigh of relief slipped from the foreigner's mouth when that all encompassing din had finally ceased, peering over from his position among the cots to evaluate the aftermath. The man in charred clothing was still alive, the 'echo' was nowhere to be seen, and the beast man seemed to have finally fallen. Although there was now a mess of blood and viscera around one of the cots where he had heard the nightmarish shade rampaging around. A sight that brought a grimace to his pale expression.

Cautiously he turned his piercing blue eyes back to the now dead beast, watching as his savior rose from beneath its corpse and... Introduced himself? Presumably? Arcturus already had a little trouble parsing the Yharnam accent, but this man was downright unintelligible. Was it some sort of archaic local dialect? He overheard a name, T-... Torkill? Tourkil? Tourquill? Something like that.

Regardless, the beast didn't look like it was getting up. So there was a way to kill them. Satisfied that they were no longer in immediate danger, he turned his attention back to the body next to him, pressing two fingers against her throat to check for a pulse.

All the while Arcturus had failed to notice as the pain in his stomach slowly faded. Each breath easier than the last until it had completely vanished.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Oh god it's been a month since my last post...

Sorry I popped out of existence again. I have returned though, with intent to post!
Figured I'd OOC message before posting just in case the post takes me longer than expected. I must apologize for my lack of communication previously, I have a bad habit of going silent when people are waiting on me to post because I feel bad about chattering in OOC instead of posting. I'll try to speak up more though so I don't just totally vanish again in the future.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Sorry I dropped off the map again. I've been out of it for the past couple weeks... Anyways, finally got my post up!

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Again the bell tolled. A shiver ran down Arcturus' spine just as before, that unnatural sound provoking an instinctual sense of dread within him. He looked on with dismay as the shadowy nightmare, the men at the door had called it an 'echo', simply stood back up. Gone were the wounds they had inflicted upon it in the heat of the moment, not unlike the way that the beast's hand had gruesomely stitched itself back together.

The bell. His yet unnamed ally was right. So long as the bell could chime, wherever it was, their hateful assailant would not cease in its efforts to kill them. The young officer's icy blue eyes shifted away from the echo to glance at those in the door. Beast and man alike stood uncertain, hesitant at the sight of the reincarnated horror. These foes of theirs seemed undisciplined. Literally just townsfolk with a cobbled together arsenal, resembling an unruly mob more than any organized adversary.

His mind working quickly, Arcturus turned his gaze back to the inky foe standing between him and his comrade. He figured it to be the biggest threat, and he wanted to kill it before the beast could regain its nerve... Just as he was thinking that, beginning to move towards the echo in order to attack it from behind, the man in charred clothing was suddenly sent flying across the room. Just as it had done to their other comrade not a half-minute earlier. The sight at once both made his heart sink and steeled his aggressive conviction. However he had not taken two steps towards the shadowy being when the reassuring words of the other man reached his ears.

Arcturus was hesitant to leave the other man alone against the vicious echo, but as he turned to face the beast he realized that he didn't have a choice. The heinous monstrosity had more of a spine than he'd judged it to. Flourishing his saber, the young man stood his ground, letting the beast do the work of closing the distance while he tried to steady his breathing. Truth be told it was an intimidating sight.

Yet he wondered whether he was the only one who felt that way. The men outside the door had repeatedly referred to him and his ally by that strange title. 'Hunter.' It was a moniker that seemed to instill some apprehension in them, and the way they looked at him... Arcturus still did not know what they meant, but perhaps he could take advantage of it? Perhaps he could break their ranks and run them down like sheep.

The thundering sound of a gunshot, the familiar discharge of a rifle, caused his muscles to tense momentarily. A reflex born of having been under fire many a time. This time the room was not filled with the scent of gunsmoke, however, as the unseen gunman did not appear to be firing on them. This realization caused Arcturus' lips to curl up into a smirk. Whatever was going on out there, their enemies were now fighting on two flanks.

There was no better time to attack. Arcturus suddenly rushed forward, ducking down once he was in range to more easily strike at its legs. He didn't have preference for either leg, targeting whichever one was furthest forward. It was a forceful strike, intended to bring the thing to its knee. For his piercing, predatory eyes were not fixed on the beast's legs at which he struck, but instead upon its disfigured face. He knew it would simply regenerate from any injury it gave it, but he wondered...

Could it regrow its head?

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

In the final moment as the vicious creature turned its eyes up to face him, emitting the first note of its baleful screech, Arcturus gazed down into the scarlet orbs that gleamed amidst its murky hair. For that brief moment he stared back into its excited gaze, struck with an uncanny realization as his saber sank deep into its head. Perhaps it had merely been his imagination, a wild adrenaline fueled fancy, but he had seen in those eyes a strangely familiar emotion. An eagerness alike to that which had just now driven his curved blade into its skull.

Unsettling as it was, however, there was no time to dwell on the matter. Arcturus' attention snapped up to the door as the other man called it out, his arms moving to draw his sword from the inky flesh of their fallen foe. His muscles ached with fatigue from their unnatural exertion, his breathing heavy while his heart pumped furiously, but he couldn't stop moving. The threat behind their lines had been quickly dealt with, but every second they had spent killing it was a second lent to the enemy outside. Luckily it seemed the door had held, so they might be able to-

When the door bent inwards, the deafening crack of wood resounding through the room, Arcturus knew their barricade was not long for the world. Hurriedly he scrambled to the side in anticipation of what was surely about to breach their defenses, gesturing for the man in charred clothing to move in the other direction. While they had swiftly defeated the bell beckoned nightmare it had also inflicted a casualty. As far as he could tell their fighting capacity had been reduced to just two men, himself and the darker skinned man, which likely left them outnumbered. The only way they could maintain an advantage was if they forced the enemy to meet them one at a time, attacking at the doorway.

Of course that was a tactic meant for killing other men. Arcturus wasn't so confident about the vile thing he had witnessed at the beginning of the skirmish, when that gnarled hand had willfully torn itself free from his spear.

Suddenly a horrid, clawed foot jutted into the room, shattering the wooden barrier that had stood between them and the dangers outside. Arcturus flinched as an errant splinter struck his cheek, causing a small cut in his pale skin. However he kept his nerve, slowly bringing his breathing under control. His piercing blue eyes stared apprehensively as the stretched, beastly appendage was followed by its owner. A towering monstrosity that easily stood as tall as their previous quarry.

Reflexively he glanced down at its hand. He recognized that twisted, disgusting thing, its knobbly fingers and blood caked fur. The very hand that had tore itself open and knit itself back together before his very eyes. There was still a part of him that doubted if they could even harm something like that, let alone kill it. However Arcturus was feeling confident. Together they had struck down a being seemingly made of nothing more than shadow, a specter unnatural and terrifying by its very nature. Besides, what choice did they have? With the door gone they now needed to block that chokepoint with their steel! The only option left was to attack!

They had one more advantage, Arcturus noted, as he heard the voice from outside. The enemy wanted to capture them alive. This would likely restrict how the things attacked, he figured, which would only serve the two of them. He certainly didn't plan on being 'taken.' Raising his sword, the young man took an aggressive step towards the beast, swallowing his reservations as his heart beat ever faster. Once again he was trying to draw the main threat's attention, his boot stomping hard into the floor with a sharp thud. The young man had been given almost no time to rest and could still feel the fatigue. Yet still his piercing blue gaze glared sharply up at the monstrosity before him, intent on forcing himself to confront it. To draw its attention away in the hope that his ally might catch it unaware.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Well, I wasn't planning to post in the clinic again until at least the next enemy turn following Marcus.

I've been seeing Alex Roe in my Youtube feed since even before Bloodborne's launch. I ought to finally start checking out his stuff a little more actively...

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

First post in two months is up~
I need to go imbibe a sedative...