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    1. Whimsley 9 yrs ago

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Krunk Fortress, Lobby

Where is it?


He yawned, scratching the bags beneath his eyes and nodding as Jenso spoke. "Eyo, Jenso-man. Zerraf." He waved with his left hand. Zerraf went to cradle his arm for a short nap, and it was gone. He looked about him, and it was gone. The wind mage began mumbling incoherently, checking the soles of his boots and the cracks of the floor. Within a blink Zerraf rushed to the door, as if there was no distance between. He punched the door and an echo permeated the lobby. His knuckles bled and blended into his red cloak. Did he leave it on the grass? No, he remembered picking it up. Someone had taken it.

Zerraf turned, neck cracking, to eye each door with a glazed look. Hell had no fury. "You can't hide the pillow from me. I'll take this whole place down." Zerraf strode with surprising energy behind Jenso, unsheathing his rapier and pointing it over his shoulder as Jenso opened each door. "Stand still," Zerraf breathed.
Arcadia

Inside the Z-ATV


The man, he with the mask, Jäger felt as though masks hid many things. They are for show, yes, but there was no show, no game, they were truly out in the field. What curtain did the Drama Knife hide behind? People snickered as the jester continued to fail in wooing the Ilion woman across the Z-ATV, but to no avail. Jäger only grew more uneasy as he kept up the act. A thespian could guise their words better than most. He would need to keep a close eye on that one.

"Yea, we are strangers, but no more. Know me as Jäger, monk of Saiga," Jäger said. He had a strange way of speaking, having spent almost his entire life in the temple. There was a formal but odd quality to it, as if the polite nature of his words were overrun by their unconventional nature. Not even the most religious figures in main cities spoke in such a tongue. It was a rural, archaic dialect that was slowly dying as Saiga perpetually remained small and insignificant. "And you are known as Haley, correct?" The joints in Jäger's armor groaned as he stood, a form not overpowering but demanding attention. His greaves clanked against the Z-ATV floor as he strode through the circle of Junkers. When Jäger reached Haley, he bent his arm and turned an open, clawed hand to the side, requesting a more intimate greeting than a simple handshake. It demanded each of them to be at the same level, and interlock themselves much more closely, leaving an unseen hand from peripheral vision. To grasp the hand was to trust the other would not attempt to harm them by a dagger in the back.
Krunk Fortress

Sleepless giant


The shrieking reached a maximum volume as the handle of a rapier collided with Zerraf's left, open palm. Fully intact, the blade appeared not to have just been blown to pieces. It was made of mettle for sure (PUNS). The wind mage tapped Krink with the tip of his shoe, rolling the turtle about for a moment, before retracting his foot. A low grumble came from his mask as he trudged away towards the Krunk mobile, stomping, effort in each step. He held his rapier as one may a great club, resting on his shoulder in a laze fashion. Swinging side to side, Zerraf reached his pillow. It was intact yet, 1200-thread and goose down. He sheathed his rapier and picked up the pillow. He coddled the floof with his cheek, closing his eyes, his grumbling becoming a hum. Before he turned, he noticed a trail of blood leading away. Turning his head, curious, he followed.

Zerraf reached an open crate, and inside was the woman from earlier. Who was she? So familiar. A sparkle in Zerraf's eyes. He place the pillow down and clenched his left fist, pulling towards him. The blood in her stained clothes and underneath her became part of a cyclone that made it's way out of the box, and in a grassy area about ten feet out. Once there was little blood left, Zerraf tapped her shoulder forward, and the pillow floated in-between the space of her back and the hard wood. With that, Zerraf turned back, a sparkle in his eye fading as his boots tread over an incapacitated Krink. A low grumbling could be heard coming from his mask as he entered the gates.
Indigo Samson


Indigo scratched his palms, watching the few people around as closely as the people he was with. They’d made an agreement before entering the city. At an impasse each person had one vote, and no vote was greater than another. Though, a word only went so far these days. Indigo’s pupils shivered. His breath was shallow and rapid. Sam’s shoulders were poised. Bo’s stride was swift. Indigo knew, though, they were afraid as him. Being a rat in a maze did that to a man. Even if they were a group of three rats, they were still rats. The passages were narrow and there was only one exit.

Indigo took the rear and allowed the other two an advance position. His eyes shifted to the side, looking to the back of Woods’ head. They hadn’t spent enough time together for Indigo to really gauge any sort of his character. On top of that he seemed quiet, or perhaps wary. Maybe both. His Pokémon, a Makuhita, was a strong addition to their current roster. A fighting Pokémon was difficult to defeat in physical combat. With supporting attacks from Growlithe and Nidoran♂, her punches would become nigh unblockable for a single Pokémon. For that to work, though, they needed security in each other. They and their Pokémon, each of them needed to know what the other was to do as it occurred. Such as a trainer has a relationship with their Pokémon, so it must be in a team battle. There is no talking, no mistakes, simply execution. Three stranger rats in unknown territory had to work in absolute coordination. And there was that last part of that bond, the most important thing to consider: trust. They shared about two days of travel and a loose coalition they followed. Indigo pulled on his collar and cleared his throat. If somebody had noticed, they hadn’t said anything.

Eyes between blinds shot glares at the trio as they walked through the rougher parts of the city. Their gazes pierced Indigo’s own. Trash rolled across gutters. Mangy animals hid in dark alleyways. They knocked over cardboard boxes and hissed from yellow, glowing eyes. Maximillian maneuvered between Indigo’s shoes, taking three steps for every one Indigo made. The Nidoran’s♂ ears turned and twisted in unheard of directions. Maximillian looked up to Indigo, who returned his glance with a faint smile. His eyes arched upward beneath his black, square frames, and his heart could be heard thumping against his chest. Maximillian nodded, and continued to adjust his antennae ears. Indigo didn’t like the idea of Maximillian being outside of his pokéball in such a dangerous area, but it was necessary. Indigo needed to hide the technology from the Regime, but he also needed Maximillian’s hearing capabilities. It might be the difference between an ambush and an escape. Indigo still traced the outline of the sphere in his pants pocket, but he didn’t dare grasp it.

Indigo’s mouth began to dry as they approached Manhattan bridge. Some invisible force pushed down on his chest, and he was visibly paler. Indigo’s palms shuffled against his purple suit coat. He felt a scrape against his pant leg. Indigo looked down to meet Maximillian’s stare. His pupils vibrated and his neck swiveled, motioning forward. Sam and Woods continued to walk farther forward, but they hadn’t noticed Indigo’s pause yet. Maximillian stomped on the ground twice with his front two legs, and swung his head from side to side, unleashing a flux of air from his nostrils. He revealed his neck and stood high upon his front legs, vibrating pupils boring holes into Indigo’s face. Indigo swiveled his head, looking at the crossroads sign toward Sam and Woods and back the way he came. Indigo made hours out of moments. His lips tucked inward and he nodded at Maximillian, rushing to catch up to the now distant Rebels.

Civilians and Regime alike contained the trio. Indigo did not mind the feel of a city, but this was worse, much worse. It was like the boot of an officer permanently stuck digging into your stomach. People knocked against Indigo, sending him into others, into others. Indigo saw Regime in every citizen. He profusely apologized in-between knockings and goings. Indigo felt another scrape against his pant leg, and he took a deep breath. There were no more apologies. Sam gave a sort of signal, and as he merged with another tide Indigo figured the trio were to split up. Indigo and Maximillian ducked and weaved within the heavier rapids of the crowd. Even if they were spotted by the Regime as outsiders, they would need to traverse difficult terrain. Despite their efforts of blending in with numbers, scarce amounts of Regime became visibly suspicious. Maximillian noticed before they acted. His superb hearing was able to differentiate the different voices in the sea of sound, and he picked up on Regime conversation. They’d been detected. There was a light push against his inner, left ankle. They were to the west, far enough but still approaching. Indigo’s tall form ducked beneath the waves of heads and began maneuvering toward an alleyway on the same side of the street. Leaping from the crowd, the two sprinted into the alleyway as they heard a shout, again to their left. They rounded a sharp corner. Spikes shot from Maximillian’s body and covered the floor and walls of the turn, glowing purple even in the dim light. The two navigated through narrow passages and avoided dead ends. Indigo had studied this route. No, that was a dead end, take a left instead. That led back to the street. Right, left, straight, hold, okay keep going. They leapt over trashcan hurdles, murky puddles, and climbed over chain-link fences. Eventually, their breath in unison merged with an exit, just as Woods came careening from another path, and Sam from the opposite way.

The three fell silent to collect themselves. The world held it’s breath, and then it screamed. The sound and the fury of a golden storm erupted from the sky. Glass erupted from street lights as Indigo crouched over Maximillian and covered his own face with bent arms. Maximillian’s ears turned every direction, head swiveling, front legs pacing in place. A shadowy fist clenched the city as almost all light ceased to be. The only remaining illumination came in intervals, lightning striking down from furling clouds. “What’s happening?” Indigo said, still in his hunched position. His eyes widened as his neck arched upward. The sky became bright with another strike. No, it couldn’t be. But this storm was so sudden. The sky challenged the earth in a battle to the death. Or perhaps something challenged them all. Indigo’s thoughts became interrupted by the world screaming once again. Thunder surrounded them, deafening, on all sides. Sam sprinted off down the street randomly, and Woods soon after. Indigo exhaled incomprehensible babblings before following soon after, Maximillian leaping as lightning may between each stride.

Indigo travelled by the storm’s strobe. “Wait, wait, stop running!” Indigo said, unable to scream over crashing thunder. A flash of light revealed Sam was turning into an alley way, and Indigo was close behind. He nearly crashed into Sam and Woods as the brightening of the sky revealed others, one of them in Regime uniform. Indigo hunched over, hands on his knees, and his chest heaved repeatedly. His neck craned forward and his eyes bobbed up and down. Three people, four Pokémon, two evolved. Maximillian remained silent but his spikes vibrated against the leather of Indigo’s shoes. The encounter was too tense for words, not yet. Any wrong action could lead to an all-out brawl that they could very well lose in this enclosed space. And just as Sam ventured into the silence, Indigo’s raven hair stood on end all about his body. A static charged permeated his skin and navigated around goosebumps.

The sky came down. It was true. Nobody could catch a storm, even if they wanted to.

Golden undulations of energy radiated out of its brilliant form. It was jagged as its power, wings piercing the dark veil around it. Each flap of its wings caused the sky to scream and the clouds to furl. God gave man fire, and now it was to give them lightning. Meek dots trailed in its wake, ants trailing conveniently amongst a king. Indigo looked up as the entirety of a city did. “Why here? Why now?” Indigo managed to stand and arch his neck, but kept his torso facing the opposite party. His chest contracted slowly, breath travelling slowly out of his mouth. “We can’t stay here,” said the speck of dust.
@Lady Athena

I've been awaiting a response from Krink, I think tex is taking a hiatus
Enior stooped to a sitting position, having fallen from his river dance. He'd been in a stupor for a moment. Didn't these people realize the very room was spinning? Standing uneasily, the elf wandered, serpentine outside by convenience. Mug in hand he roamed, his sly boots touched grass. His path led him to the bonfire, where he tasted sweet meats simmering. His delicate fingers danced a moment before reaching into the flames, scalding his hand. "Gah! Cruel punishment!" His alcoholic breath nearly empowered the flames further. Enior grasped his wrist and blew upon his hand. These were wicked fires, indeed. What did he remember before his stupor? A vampire, that's what. A corpse in the fire, a closer look. "The vampire is slain! A celebration!" The elf fell prone onto the ground and took a hefty sip from his sloshing mug.

Now then, a bubble of thought imploded in Enior's mind. What was it that vampires could do? No, fire wouldn't do it. They would need something. Silver? No, a stake! On his belly, the drunken elf looked about. The woods would become their refuge. With his alcohol still in hand, Enior began to roll towards the woods. After a few rolls, his legs would gain enough momentum to support his body. He would cartwheel back onto the ground. Rolling seemed to be the most effective movement. "Ho I will return, stake in hand! Defend yourselves from the beast before I return."
Indigo Samson


Indigo would immediately stop speaking as Bo took to growling, and Maximillian took point between Indigo's shoes. Each of them covered a different direction. Indigo bent his arms and squinted, eyes darting to every point in his perspective. Even if there were Regime, it was unlikely that he would be able to see in this dim lighting. He'd have to reflex Sam's actions, and precisely at that. Maximillian remained quiet as ever, claws dug into the ground. His battle stance was low to the ground, an instinctual guard against being flipped and knocked. A low center of gravity made it more difficult for opposing pokémon to push Maximillian around. Downward facing spikes gave the Nidoran♂ even more traction in this regard, each one lightly scraping against the dirt, a baseball player rubbing his shoes in the dirt before a hit. Maximillian awaited orders, and Indigo awaited a sign.

Sam continued to speak, and Indigo raised an eyebrow in response. He inferred there weren't any Regime around if the man continued to exchange formalities. Who, or what, was out there then? Indigo's response was quick, practiced, "I've studied this path more times than I can count. If I wasn't okay with the odds being against me, I would've backed down before I started." Sam turned away, speaking to whoever his Growlithe had detected. A handy tool that fire dog was; he'd be an important asset for invading the city and night watches. Maximillian's large ears began moving about as sonar. Where Bo was capable in detecting smells, Maximillian could hear sounds. In more frequencies and farther away than any human could. Nidoran♂ were famous for their hearing abilities, something Indigo drilled into Maximillian's training. Maximillian's ears both faced the same direction as to where Sam was speaking, but he gave no queues as to a dangerous foe. Indigo straightened his arms, allowing them to float at his sides.

Upon the mentioning of being killed, something passed as an act so casual, Indigo bit the inside of his cheek. He rubbed it between his gritting teeth, mouth slightly agape. Indigo was on the Rebellion's side, that was certain, but how was that side defined? It apparently ranged from person to person, whereas Indigo took a non-lethal approach. He had encountered many Regime members and sabotaged their efforts, but never had he killed anyone. And he guessed Sam would, no, that he was going to. Or perhaps he had. And if Sam were to take the same approach to the Regime's pokémon... Indigo shook his head. He'd involuntarily began to hone in on the ground, losing focus of his physical state. An intolerance to neutrality, death to those who opposed the Rebellion, it was a bit much to handle of Sam's personality in one conversation. Sam was extreme, at the least, though some would say he had the qualities of being a strong leader. What kind of leader that was, Indigo would find out shortly, if a leader at all. He nodded. Indigo would go along for now. Maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe he'd tagged Sam for who he truly was in that forest. Indigo had one stipulation to add after scratching his chin for some time.

"We act and decide as equal members of the Rebellion. No vote usurps another." Indigo extended an open hand to properly greet his new ally, awaiting his response.
Everyone needs to take some time to calm down. If you've got drama, take it to PM. I don't want to read all of this hate in the OOC thread anymore. We're supposed to get along, not snap at each other; our RP will suffer otherwise.
<Snipped quote by Lady Athena>

Sorry for the delay, was playing Crusader Kings II.

And of course it's all right!


CRUSADER KINGS TWO?!

AAAAAAAAAH

Haven't heard that in awhile, awesome choice.
Indigo Samson


It couldn't be seen in the dark, but Indigo's chest heaved. A sigh trailed out of his lips. One misstep out here and the plan is ruined. Indigo had gotten it right, for now. "I can't say I have," He stepped forward into the light, "Though I've lost contact for some time now. Good to see I have allies, yet," Indigo said. It was true, Indigo hadn't heard from the Rebels for two months now. He wasn't one to start conversation, which explained why he'd never heard of Sam before, and likely vice versa. Indigo wasn't much to be known, or to know other people. It was better that way; the Regime had less to track him and his pokémon with. "My name is Indigo Samson." He stepped fully into view now, about ten feet away, before giving a slight bow. Indigo had formal wear on, something one might attend a dinner party with. Purple suit coat, brown vest, dark dress pants and shoes, with a leather belt that secured his precious pokéball.

Indigo unstrapped the pokéball from his belt and held it up, showing his intentions. A red bolt shot from the ball and landed onto the ground, taking form. "This is Maximillian," Indigo said. The Nidoran♂ stood poised, legs straight and shoulders arched. His neck craned and his horn was just hovering skyward. The Nidoran♂ blinked but reacted little else to Sam and his Growlithe, Bo. Maximillian was surprisingly silent for a pokémon, with not even a stir from his mouth. He maintained this stance just to the left of Samson's dress shoes. Indigo spoke plainly after some moments of silence. "You're going to Manhattan. Let's go together." Indigo spoke with his hands as much as he did his words. "We won't enter Manhattan as quietly, but odds are there'll be a fight if we're alone or not," Indigo said. He adjusted his glasses, looking to Maximillian who looked back. "And I don't plan on losing."

@DarthSeverus394
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