Girlie1Bomba

The Legend of Gobbledygook

Sooooooo... anyone else still around to post up?🤐

The Helium Frightful

AH! D:

Um, so.

Mmm.

It occurs to me I haven't been keeping up with this RP very well (read: at all) and I'm not sure if it's appropriate for me to drop out completely or awkwardly try to rejoin.

I'm really sorry about letting it go by this long.

@Eventua

Heya!! I dont think we've gotten too far in rP. Like I think that we just getting our bearings on the ship and still need to oficcially be given the mission by the captain.

And so like yeah go ahead and post up. It's not too late🤗

The Helium Frightful

@Nibawwwwww... well good luck to you out there ☺

And @Mokley daBomba all good over here, boss. Like I can wait for others to post, if not happy to just let Lucky follow the waddling-thing wherever it ends up 😊

The Legend of Gobbledygook

☠

"'Eeek...'"

A slow roiling laugh escaped from within the cowl of Lady Leaza.

"Would you be so kind as to excuse me a moment or two, Mr. Crow...?"

The whispery wings of the 'angel' fluttered softly as the 'angel' slowly turned around and finally stopped once in the general direction of the hiding faerie.

"Is that how one chooses to greet those gathered here, darling...? Eek; for Mr. Crow, plumage so fine and dark? Eek; for our beloved 'Obsidian Idol,' cast in black stasis, posed without heart, poised to forever see infinity? And a final Eek; for me then. She of the Crossing. Lady Leaza, Sister Reaper? Is that how you choose to greet us then?"

Upon the hushed words of the dead she floated, weaving back and forth as she spoke. Sometimes towards the faerie and most times not, yet the dark of the cowl always seemed to be trained upon the diminutive fae, eyeless glare piercing through living matter as always.

"Or shall my darling just hide from us then...? A simple Eek and a turned cheek. Who could dare to do such things? Who could dare to be in such a way? Who, oh, who could it be-- ahhhhhh... wait. There is something familiar about this presence. Something about how such a word is formed. Out of surprise is it made? Or out of despair? Or is it made out of pure, plain and simple..."

Should the little faerie peek from behind the tree, she would not see the Angel of Death before her. Nay and again nay, for she would only see the Angel of Death if she looked over her shoulder--

"--disgust? Oh, look. Why it is none other than Ms. Lily... will wonders never cease...?"

The dark of the cowl was but the arms length of a faerie's arm away. From this distance, the little fae should be able to 'feel' the dark within that cowl. The absence of Life drew in and sucked away at the light that fell into the little flying fae's eyes.

Oh, Lady Leaza knew exactly who this little faerie was all right. How many times had this Lily thwarted the Lady's 'claims' by healing, caring for and nursing those half-dead back to health and thereby snatching away what was rightfully claimed by Lady Leaza. And to this day, the Lady's Sickles remained parched from thirst of severing those claimed tethers. And not once did Sister Reaper have a reason to confront the little claims-stealer. Until now.

"Hello, darling..."

For a thudding heartbeat or a thousand more did Lady Leaza's cowl remain so close to Lily, then the intense form of the 'angel' swooped backwards. A flowing curtsey and a drawn out bow she gave to Lily.

"We just never do get the proper opportunity to talk, now do we...? Let's be away from here then shall we, Ms. Lily? Please do join us yonder to gather and palaver. For you never know what else may slip out from the shadows, darling..."

That same roiling laugh escaped the black hollow of her cowl as she floated away, back towards Crow, gown rippling not from the breeze, but rippling from the sighs and songs of the dead.

~~~

LANTERN (redux)

Izzy

~the Lost at Sea.

Izzy wavered a bit as she turned to bid Ms. North a fond farewell, "To your child then angellic Ms. North. Thankee sooooo very much for yer kindness and offers, Ms. Lady. Thanks one thousand fold, aye and again aye."

The tall redhead reached over to grasp the woman's hand, but North shrank away and just waved in return.

"Fare'ee well and save them I will...! Y'knows--"

Izzy arm was pulled as she was ushered elsewhere. The short guard had quite the powerful grip. And 'ushering' along was too kind a word. 'Dragging along' was more accurate. But the rough stuff Izzy did not mind, for this guard seemed interested in getting to know Izzy more. "Aye, me name 'tis tragic, but 'tis true. But as I said before, love, Izzy the lost at sea is now found here with yo-- Wait. Your name be 'Gale.' O' the 'Storm.' Why, what a name! Parents both betrothed you such a moniker then, aye? Well, woud'ja just blow some thunder my way then--

_{why hulllllloooooo there..."}

Her jaw held open but no more words escaped her as steely-blue eyes slowly swept around the blue-lit platform. There were so many women here. And all of them in tight, form fitting leather. Sooooo many of them. Moving about. Legs running. Bosoms bouncing. Hips swaying. And all in leather.

"Nay, love.. I... I-I be from not Biter nor Toucho-- UH! Pyre nor Echo. Born upon the rollicking sea was this lass. But if I must say a town, then I be from Mo'tawabni and if I must-- Alright. Why then... Why so many women here...?! And why so tight is the leather?! Make me just wanna' reach out n'-- OOOFF...!"

Izzy found herself with helmet and in one of these... skiffs? She absent-mindedly put the helmet upon her head as she listened to Gale and got into position. "Soooooo... let me get this straight... you want Ms. Izzy to: spread her legs, wrap her arms round your waist, and move me hips in rhythm with yours...? Uh-huh."

The drunken redhead fanned herself with one hand, "So. This be me WindRider training? Sold. I will take up yer offer and train like this as much as ya wants, aye. And if we have to have extra-curricular private lessons with less leather and more leaning then-- wahhhhhhhhooooooooooOOOOOOO!!!"

The shock of the dead drop turned into elation as they rocketed onward towards the shore. The thrum of the engines was new to Izzy and thusly, rather unsettling to her, but the exhilaration of flight soon conquered her unease. It truly was just Izzy playing fool with her flirting, but the moment changed when she saw the figures illumated in the distance. There was a true urgency now. Izzy felt the fire rekindled from within. The voices of Doubt and Despair seemed like such an eternity away now.

She felt alive. She felt sexy. She felt passion.

She felt 'found.'

~~~

"Aye. See them, do I, Ms. Gale." in any other circumstance, Izzy would be jumping up and down, beside herself in wonder at the sight of the griffin. But she was not merely Izzy right now. Nay and again nay, for she was something more. Much, much more. "But those are not the Hollows. I do not know those children, but there seems to be many of the shipwrecked missing. But there! That's--"

A long pale finger pointed at those upon the shore and she faltered. Isabellia realized that she did not know any of their names. A head shake she gave and continued on anyways, "The be-spectacled one be 'Bruiser'; a fighter he must be to get such marks upon his face yet a poet he be with pen n' journal no less. The long-armed, short-legger be 'Mumbles' n' he be quite a ferocious brute, but with few words. The womanly one be 'Miss Pretty Bits' and she... well, now then, not t'make ye jelly in the belly, love, but she be me ex-girlfriend and oooooohhhhh... but crazy jealous does not even half descibe how she reacts to mine own tidings--"

Isabellia shut her mouth and reacted, lightning quick, hooking Gale's arm, preventing the woman from launching her spear. Little did she realize that the Kith were the children; she actually thought that 'Kith' was their word for 'Griffin.'

"OI!!! MS. GALE!! Kill the Kith then, not the babes!! Ya gone barmy, have ya?! Those are but children! Stand down! They be but children, I say!!"

From the corner of her eye, she saw the violet light of the other Scythes light up another portion of the beach. And there she saw them. And not just one.

"Hollows!" still wrestling to disarm Gale, the tall redhead turned her head and yelled at the top of her lungs: "Mates on the shore, 'tis I, Ms. Isabellia!! Away from whence ya came, for more monstrosities arrive! Worry not! We will kill the griffins and rescue ye lot!!"

The Endeavour Six (Open, read first OOC post and I'll brief you if you're interested)

Right. Posted up and so like at the end, I kinda made a time jump for ORB if that's cool. If not, then oooops... could be a missile coming their way? :\

The Endeavour Six (Open, read first OOC post and I'll brief you if you're interested)

CeCe

Squad Last Down

Defenders
Field Commander - Salem KIA
Excecutive Commander - Aether - Location: Midgard Bridge / *'The Junk.' Injuries: GSW left thigh, minor bruising.
Trooper - Behemoth KIA
Sniper - Calibre - Location: Highway / **'The Prize.' Injuries: blunt force trauma right arm from wrist to shoulder, minor bruising.
Driver - Daemon KIA

Consultants
Engineer Chief Sato - - Location: Midgard Bridge / 'The Junk.' Injuries: None.
Security Chief Lapin (Bunny) - Location: Highway / 'The Prize.' Injuries: None.
Liaison Officer Xavier - Location: Highway / 'The Prize.' Injuries - None.

~~~

Rescued
Pilot Chevalier Lapin - Thor- Location: Midgard Bridge / 'The Junk.' Injuries: broken left tibia, possible hip fracture, possible internal bleeding, major bruising.
Capt. Alina Reid- Location: Midgard Bridge / 'The Junk.' Injuries: head trauma, possible concussion, minor bruising

~~~

*'The Junk' - the missing components needed to launch the Endeavour-6. Called 'Junk' due to the squad dressing up as scavengers while in the field.

**'The Prize' - the walking tank. 'Prize' is scavenger slang for a fully operational and complete piece of tech.

There was no movement save for the fella looking gain entry to 'the Prize.' Oh hell no. CeCe was not having any of that. They had flashed their 'friendly' sequence twice with no response. And now this guy was looking to fire up that 'tank' and walk away with what they had come back for? Two newfish had lost their lives for 'the Prize' and no way they would let this slip between their fingers.

"X, 'member what I said about the plan?" barked out CeCe as she readied her assault rifle.

"Shoot anyone that's not Last Down."

"Excecute the plan, mister."

"Big A-firmative, Bunny--"

Cal leapt in front of the both of them and hand-signalled like crazy.

"What's he sayin'?"

"'Stand down. One of us. T-R-O-L-L-I-E-D-O-L-L-I-E.' Trolley? Dollie? The actual eff, Cal?! What doll?! OH! Ohhhhhh! Hold fire, X, that's Troll...! He made it...! Hell yeah! Aeth, come in. Movin' in to secure 'the Prize--"

"Trollie-Dollie? Is that some kinda' joke?" asked Xavier as he lowered his side-arm.

Calibre just shrugged.

"Wellll, I think it's funny..." giggled Aether over comms, "Okay, Trollie-Dollie? Ya gots your ears on, mista? Good. We gunna get you free from that flatbed. My people: Cal, my blondie and X are gunna secure the perimetre, unstrap you and let's try to get that firepower back here near the bridge, right? Alright.

"Troll-Doll, we gunna' let you in on some intel. We gots some big mutha' F5 helo on its way. I managed to convince the SliverBacks to do a pickup in the open at our twenty. No time to hitch up 'the Junk.' All or nothin' people.

"So stop playing your name games and get yer asses on over here, ya reads me? Helos in the open are nice big flying targets for the NO to go after. So yeah, needs all the cavalry we can get. And what I mean by that is: I hope, SOMEONE over there knows how to fire up that walking home-wrecker and knows how to make it hail some big-calibre-kinda' fire.

"Oh, don't forget to cannibalize and collect. And if you gots jerry cans, take that fuel. We need all we can get. Once the Silvers and their F5 Helicopter take 'the Junk,' we on our own time to get back to HQ and transports here are pretty much black.

"Alright, ain't nuttin' to do but to do it. Get movin' and play nice with each other, babies. Aether out..."

~~~

The three began to move out to secure the location, Cal and CeCe went over the wreckage, confirming kills, looking for hidden baddies and assessing stock and salvageables. Xavier stood on top of their vehicle and played lookout.

"Goddam, Cal..." said CeCe quietly to her silent companion as she rolled the corpse back to its facedown pose, "this guy is legit. Look at the wound points and breaks. Small, powerful, efficient. How may times you think this Troll got hit...?"

Cal hand-signalled a response and CeCe chuckled softly.

"Yeah, bruh. Me too. Here's hoping he's gunna stay on our side..."

They moved on to inspect the wreck and Cal shook his head as he patted the dead man's shoulder.

"Aeth. Looks like we got confirmation on Charming. GSWs and killed in the crash, boss-lady--"

"Cal! Bunny! Movement at your... 2 o'-- no 10? Wait, he's at--"

Two shots rang out as Cal eliminated the lone survivor while X stammered.

"Clear." said CeCe. She looked up at the ex-Spetsnaz Operative and waved. She then proceeded to climb the flatbed trailer and inspect the tie-downs. CeCe then motioned for Cal to hop aboard too.

"Give him your eyes and some iron, Cal," she patted the man beside her then looked upward. A tight salute she gave and hollered up to Troll, " I'm Bunny. That's Calibre. Nice to meetcha' Mr. Troll. Sorry about your partner; Charming, but still good to see a friendly out here. Now, catch!"

Cal gave up a friendly wave before lobbing up his binoculars. After Troll caught them, he lobbed up his assault rifle.

"Alright, Mr. Troll. We gunna get you on guard duty while we untie your 'walker..." she motioned over at X, "hey, bruh, let's go. Cut those tiedowns, me n' Cal will take care of the chains."

X nodded and hustled his frame on over. CeCe could not help but smile like some kind of proud mama. This guy went from sweaty, babbling, cry-baby-suit civillian to sweaty, badass redheaded soldier in less than a day.

"Daaaaaamn... did you kill all these guys? Ugh. That guys head's not on right. Soooo.... What are you...? Like some kinda' black-ops, martial arts, master ninja, Troll? Daaaaammmmnnn... what a mess...!"

Well, maybe they needed to help him turn up the 'badass' a bit more.

"Okay... what I think you meant to say was: 'Hello, my name is Xavier, but you can call me X. Nice to meetcha...'"

X gave up a sheepish couple of nods. CeCe patted X's shoulder and shook her head as she smiled. Cal just shrugged.

"Yeah. Hey, Troll. I'm X. And I kick grenades..."

CeCe burst out laughing while Calibre's shoulders rumbled up and down in his strange 'whispery-exhaling' laughter.

"You like moonlit strolls on the beach too? Hey, you know I can hear you guys, right...?! So still gunna flirt with Troll, X? Or like you guys gunna' actually get to work over there...? It's not like we have a mission to complete or anything... C'mon now! Un-ass and unload! Hear me? Ughs... babies..."

"Wah, boss-lady. 5-by-5. We're on it..."

~~~

As they worked on cutting the walking tank loose, a small, silvery, metal flying object hurtled towards them from the direction of the town.

The Legend of Gobbledygook

☠

A heart in shadow; the absence of light, but a heart not in the absence of Life. That was her heart as she dispensed herself from the deepest and oldest of dark from the forest floor.

Wings lit like the eyes of the recently deceased, but not dulled like the glazed look of the rested dead. Those were her wings that fluttered softly, whispering her way towards the gathering.

A gown and gauntlets made of the finest stitches and steelery. Sharp and sharpened were those things she donned; they were the hue of the unlived, the colour of the moon turning her face for the final time. But they were not the tired shades of despair. That was her gown flowing and fine, gliding in rhythm with the voices formed from the Crossing. Those were her gauntlets glinting like intense intent; glinting like the knowledge and anxiety of the hunter and the hunted all at once.

And that face. Oh, but there was none. Only the mirrored Abyss you would see should you stare long enough into the hollow of her cowl. The dark therein was not made of shadow, nay and again nay, for shadow is the absence of light. The abyss... The Abyss is made of the absence of Life and that was her kind of dark afterall. Stare into the Abyss if you must, but know that it stares right back into you, darling.

"Hail to you Mr. Crow, plumage so fine and dark," a flowing curtsey and drawn out bow she gave, so respectful and yet so final at the same time, "'tis I, Lady Leaza, She of the Crossing, and I am here to hear what they have not heard. I am here to sate the desires of the Tangle. I am here to allay the fears of the near-Mortals and to aid the Ancients. I will find what the sentries and guardians did not hear."

A sharpened tip of a gauntleted finger, literally sliced the air as it pointed back in the direction of the Unicorn's Greenery. "That my sister, the Unicorn, Mother Ina'Raynjara, Queen of the Green Corridor, an Ancient no less, has been turned to stone, and, that all those others, the near-Mortals, escape DEATH by remaining hidden in their stone cocoons...? That is the reason I appear in this form, darling.

"This taken form where this 'Angel' may not claim you whilst this 'Angel' holds your very own head in this 'Angel's' lap as you weep like our own very King is quite tragic yet quite necessary all the same. I may not continue my duties proper as She of the Crossing so long as the perpetrator of these tragic events continues to thrive and continues to harbour the heart of-- I find I may not even speak her name proper, darling. Tragic. I find that I may only refer to her as: The Obsidian Idol."


Wings made of the Dead Lit Skies fluttered softly as she turned to face the Gobb-- the Obsidian Idol and, with nary a sound, she flew upon the whispered words of the dead towards the encased Ancient. The Lady then lay a gauntlet upon the cheek of said obsidian encased Ancient. A slow and gentle caress she gave then she turned back towards Crow.

"And so what do I think, darling...?" was there a hint of sardonic humour traipsing within that old, so very old voice of Lady Leaza? "I think that we start the search by questioning the one who sees all. The one who sees even what has not yet even been heard. Atop the great clock tower, at the tip of the spire. There he is. We must wake him. For he must have seen much of this tragic turn of events... oh, Mr. Crow you know of whom I speak, aye, darling?

None other than Mr. Standardly, the Marvellous One. Of sight and of insight he may guide us, no?"

~~~

The Endeavour Six (Open, read first OOC post and I'll brief you if you're interested)

I can't do anything until Virani moves her butt. :( Or else I'm just gonna make ORB fly over or something xD

@Flynn

Just write what you can. Get this feeling it's just us now. AND!! I have a feeling that we may need an AI to figure out how to work this walking tank hint-hint-wink-wink-bruh ;DD

The World of Telduria [Always open for applications]

_꧁꧂

~Bradles Worth, Lake Victorine.
~The Percullin Main Mansion.

The man was wise as he was blind. A hint of a smile could not be stilled as she nodded once at Jono. As far as the assassin was concerned, the fracturing of unity between the Underhanded, as the man saw it, was a good thing; this insight of his gave him a glimmer of hope. And he cared not that his 'other daughter, Ouna' the servant girl did not return to him. That left Mercaidi's persona as the 'other daughter' in the clear; 'Ouna' was going to die. The Wicked One had all the info she needed.

"A safehouse for a safe return then. You will have your daughter, of which one returns to you I cannot promise. But you have my word that we will keep our end of the bargain so long as you keep yours, orchard keeper."

A soon as her words were spoken the door shattered open. The servants and guards would see Jono on his knees, weeping softly. At the window they would see a mithril armoured form slip a cowl over its head then slip further into the hue of night. The black form then flowed like liquid black into the dark gathered between the trees. Only the perceptive would see it streak away, like a bladefish through inky black waters.

~~~

The following day, Mercaidi met up with the horse bandits and paid them the handsome sum for two falsely branded riding stallions and a simple carriage. But she was not dresssed as Mercaidi this day. No, her garb was made of rather fine finery and her face was shrouded in dark veils; today, Mercie was 'Ivonnia the Widow.'

She left an encrypted note in the well for Gia to find and made sure that her Underhanded partner would meet near the Darlington Bridge come nightfall. As she waited, Mercie-- 'Ivonnia' made good use of her time placing and tying weapons and other such useful items all over the carriage. These were standard placements that even Gianna would know when the time came. And the time would come, they were two lone females headed by their lonesomes into the dangers of the northern lands afterall.

Mercie considered making an excursion to hire out a driver and scout, but decided that the less witnesses, the better. And so Gianna would have to play driver instead and so she had decided to travel light and pick up supplies in the next town over.

Normally, the mixed-blood would be calm and sit at the ready, half-meditating, half-preconceiving. Strategies, pitfalls, dangers, exit strategies and the like would be mulled over, de-constructed, re-thought out, perfected. But she just could not concentrate. No, it was because of Gianna. And not because of the interference she played in Mercie's life as 'Ouna' but because...

Because Gianna still had Mercaidi's heart and oh, how Gia heated Mercie's heart and other parts.

~~~

~Bradles Worth, Lake Victorine.
~Near the Darlington Bridge.

It was nighttime now, and Gia would be here soon. And up until now, Mercie could not concentrate. And so finally, Mercie gave in and did what she had to do. In the back of the carriage, the ashen-skinnned woman decided to 'take matters into her own hands' and promptly began to 'calm' herself. Oh, but how she wished Gia was the one 'calming' her right now--

Two taps on the glass interrupted her. Orange-yellow eyes popped open wide and met the gaze of sky-blue ones.

"Oh. Gia...! H-hail, sister... I was... w-waaaas just... um... oh but how this gown itches. Aye. So itchy... s-so I was just... I was juuuuust. Scratching."

Mercaidi Kin'Myla, nearly one hundred years old, a killer, a murderer, a survivor, high-ranking Underhanded membere, a woman who fought daemons of the Abyss in her Shadow cloak, stammered away like a little girl, embarrassed and high pitched in voice. That and she told her just-as-deadly-sister that she was 'scratching there' of all places.

"How... h-how are you this fine eve, Gianna...? Shall we speak of plans up n-north then?"

Mercie looked just like a little girl that got busted with her 'hand in the cookie jar'. Blushing and eyes shining, she gave the blonde Fae-Elf a weak and forced smile.

~~~