inherit
48
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xxStitchesxx
7
January 2016
xxstitchesxx
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Post by xxStitchesxx on Mar 3, 2016 20:13:10 GMT
The market was cramped. People were everywhere, in colorful clothing and with laughing faces, noises swirling high into the sky. Laughter, spoken words, screams of glee from children and adults alike as they did their shopping, as foreigners passing through rubbed elbows with the citizens of Etirath. It was the foreigners that Desdemona kept her eyes on, watching for familiar faces in the crowd. After all, you didn't get far when being pursued if you weren't cautious, and if there was one thing that the Siren excelled at, it was caution.
It was a sunny day, perfect for being outside in the open air. Despite the headache that she had from the colors and sounds, Desdy was actual far more relaxed and content then she had been in quite a long time. Though never fully relaxed, she was happy to sit on the ground, tucked between two shops and out of the way of passersby. With the sun directly overhead, it shined down on her no matter where she sat. She had long since removed her cloak and rolled it up to serve as a makeshift pillow, leaving her clad in her simple dark tunic and legging combination, her only boots soft on her feet. Leaning against the wall of one shop, her feet raised and planted on the wall opposite, gave her a perfect view of the marketplace. Because she was nearly invisible, dressed in dark, drab colors, her hair pulled back in a knot to make it less prominent, she could watch the shoppers, her eyes wary of anything that glinted the dark black-silver of the Rider's armour. Now however, after nearly three hours of sitting comfortably in the afternoon sun, Desdy could barely keep her eyes open. Sleeping whenever she wanted was something she was not yet accustomed to, and so she fought to keep awake.
Eventually, her eyes slipped shut.
It was the silence that woke her. The sudden quiet that filled the market made her jump to attention, immediately aware like the soldier she had been... The soldier she was. The sun was setting, still just as warm before. There should have still been people wandering the street, but it was curiously empty from what she could see. A feeling of unease filled the Banshee as she slowly got to her feet. She glanced behind her to make sure no one was sneaking through the small alley she was in, but it, too was empty. She snapped her cloak open and donned it, pulling the hood up to cover her bright hair. The desire to flee the area was overwhelming, and as she left the alley, an arrow whizzed past her head, close enough to brush the back of her hood.
She stopped, waiting, as she heard a voice curse. Her eyes darted to the side, catching a glimpse of the archer drawing back into the shadow of another building, his dark, metal armour glinting in the setting sun. He hadn't tried hard to blend in; the Rider still wore his horned helmet and black cloak. Desdy's shoulders sagged in defeat as she turned toward him, her hands pushing her cloak back. It was only a matter of time before one of them had found her. Three weeks was a bit longer than she had anticipated having off, but she knew she could take just one down. It wouldn't even be hard to incapacitate him, just a simple matter of... Yes, that could work.. She pursued her lips and focused, her eyes training on the pole. With the careful precision she had developed while using her "gift", she whistled, the waves of energy cutting straight through the support pole of the shop. The roof collapsed down on the Rider, though she saw him try to escape. She sighed heavily, rubbing her forehead as a twinge of pain hit between her eyes. At least it was only one.
That was her mistake, of course: assuming the only enemy in the area was the one she could see.
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inherit
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Jan 17, 2019 22:10:26 GMT
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blacknoise
I don't have kik.
273
Aug 14, 2015 15:19:56 GMT
August 2015
blacknoise
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Post by blacknoise on Mar 22, 2016 5:04:52 GMT
Small and unassuming, the cloaked figure hid among the rooftops of the market, observing the movements and speech of people throughout their day to day lives. Her yellow eyes shone from beneath the darkness of the hood, watching every movement below with the inquisitiveness of a small child. So many strange dialects and languages, the world had changed so drastically in the past few thousand years it was almost unrecognizable. A gasp escaped her as she saw a species she hadn't seen in nearly six millenia, a pureblood elf! She looked so young, only a few hundred years. The little spirit's shock was not hidden as she listen to the conversation the elf had with a shopkeeper.
"The stones in this necklace are clearly imitation sapphires."
"Wah? Filth and pestilence, t'aint nothin' but the best stones used in me jewelry. Don' ya insult my iligitimacy, I know me jewels when I see 'em."
"Yes, I'm sure you do. In that case, you won't mind if I bring a few guards over? Just to verify your 'stones.'"
"Er- tha's jus' what I was sayin' I know me stones. These stones are clarly imigrations, yep. Ya know what, jus' for yar good eyes, ya can half this necklace, jus' free!"
"How very kind of you."
Unable to contain her giggles, Holly slipped behind another roof and covered her mouth. The elf was so elegant, cheating the foolish human out of his expensive jewelry. Sneaking another glance, she crooked her head in confusion as she saw not the elf, but a small contingent of guards quietly and slowly clear out this section of the marketplace. A small tinge of fear struck at her, wondering if they found her, but she dispelled her fear. Even if they had, she could easily escape with an illusion. They must be searching for someone else, she convinced herself. Quickly, she slid down the roof and snuck into an alleyway. With a whisper into a closed fist, Holly flung a small leaf into the wind. Nearly instantly, the small, childlike spirit disappeared. The illusion was simple, and would dissipate the second someone touched her. It was more than enough in Holly's opinion, and not exhausting.
The next few moments happened so quickly, she barely saw what happened. A woman slipped past her, an arrow whizzed by, and a whistle slipped from the woman. Voice magic? Holly momentarily wondered, until she saw the energy and collapsing shop. What magic was this? It looked like something the girl had seen before, but she couldn't place it. Allowing her mind to wander the blank fields of her slowly returning memory, Holly failed to notice the second guard descending rapidly from the rooftops.
He hit the cobble hard, but he was up and moving immediately. Bumping into the invisible Holly, he reflexively shoved her into a wall to get her out of the way as he charged Desdemona. The poor man had absolutely no idea the consequences of his action. The violence shoving, the pain of the wall as it slammed into the weak nose and horns of the child spirit, and the listlessness of searching an empty memory. A flash of recollection, and reflexive defense against pain, and it was over.
Where no one stood moments before right in front of Desdemona, Holly and the guard now occupied. On one hand, the sharp horned, yellowed eyed, mangy, malnourished, blue skinned forest spirit. On the other hand, a guard, impaled through the chest by black roots originating from the boney right shoulder of the girl.
Her round, yellow eyes widening as she realized what she did, Holly slowly turned towards Desdemona. It had been a long time since she had looked like the monster she was, this was one of those times. A normal human being would have broken down, attempted to explain what happened, or ran. Holly was no human. All Holly saw was a witness, a human, a filthy lower being that cut down her forests and murdered things they didn't understand. The part of her that might have regretted what she had just done, or be shocked at what she was now thinking, was drowned out by the screaming voices of the past. Anger, revenge, kill.
The black roots retracting into the skinny shoulder beneath Holly's torn cloak, the Child of Dread charged Desdemona. The roots poised to strike out and impale the human woman the moment they got within range.
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#ed1717
2
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Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Mar 24, 2016 18:51:10 GMT
"Are we done shopping? So soon?"
"If we actually had money, we wouldn't be, but you went and spent all of our savings at the pub."
"Now, greed is a vice among men..."
"Yeah, yeah, and the root of all man's evil."
The bickering duo, father and daughter, strode down the shopping district in a heated exchange of vehemence. They weren't at the point of a physical altercation, yet, but the tension between the two was enough to make the other passersby avoid them. Shopkeepers gave them surly glaces, and guards stood vigilant in case a fight actually needed to be handled. They weren't ever on the best of terms, but Lenore could remember when they didn't have an argument every other conversation. Godfried had been growing more and more self-righteous, crusading for his twisted view on asceticism while indulging in hypocrisies on the side. Her father was ill. He'd been ill for a long time, but it kept worsening each and every day. It was almost frightening.
The girl's gaze left her still-ranting sire to stare longingly at an open display of fruit. Fruit, just like meat, was exceptionally pricey, and for good reason; it took time to grow, came in lesser quantities, and farmers needed to make a profit. Still, ration aside, Lenore longed for the taste of a succulent apple or a juicy steak. Over a year of nothing but gruel and broth had long-since taken a toll on her palette, making thievery actually seem like a half-decent idea if she actually knew how to thieve... and if Godfried wouldn't get on a high-horse and reprimand her ear off. Despite the man's flaws, he was still her father and her knight, and she felt a certain obligation towards his beliefs, despite their increasing lunacy.
The sounds of an emerging scuffle broke her hungry daydreams, and tore her attention away from the merchant's stalls. Her hand instinctively went to the sword at her hip.
"What was that...?" she asked cautiously, hoping Godfried might have been paying more attention. He frowned, and pointed to an alley leading to the next street over.
"It sounded as if it came from over there." The man was already walking quickly in the direction he had indicated, suspicious and proud and utterly reckless. "Come now, Lenore, there may be need of our assistance," he called over his shoulder, breaking into a clanking run.
"Wait! We need to stop butting our heads in... shit." He was already gone. "Shit, shit, shit, shit," Lenore muttered with every step as she hurried after the idiot.
When she rounded the corner, the full chaos of the scene struck her dumb. A waif-like beast held a guard upright, his body run through by gnarly, ebony roots, blood splattered in a windmill on the stamped dirt and cobble. The roots withdrew with a hideous schlunk, and the being turned its gaze to a young woman nearby. Lenore watched as Godfried reached for his sword... which the dolt didn't have, because it was strapped to his squire's hip. Why did he have to give that kid her sword? Ugh... no matter. He was already aware of his unarmedness, and unslinging his massive kite from his shoulder. Lenore drew the sword in tandem, taking careful steps into the fray, her eyes scanning for hidden dangers.
"Leave that girl alone, foul beast!" Godfried cried, charging the charging creature. If his cry was enough to distract it, he might be able to strike it with his swinging shield, but there was no way he'd outrun the quick little demon while wearing a full suit of armor.
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xxStitchesxx
7
January 2016
xxstitchesxx
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Post by xxStitchesxx on Mar 26, 2016 4:25:18 GMT
Time began to slow down for the Banshee as her eyes took in the scene before her. A small, blue skinned girl... A spirit of some kind? Whatever this child was, it was charging her. The scene before, in which she had killed one of the Rider's accompanying guards was still flashing through her head as she raced to come to a decision. This spirit was obviously going to attack her, and as it stood, she had three viable options.
Standing her ground. If she tensed her body to prepare for the shock of the impact, she would have the child in close enough range to stab with her knife, which her hand had instinctively begun to draw. This could lead to her bleeding, potentially passing out as she was prone to doing. It was surely not her first choice of strategy, but if it came to it, it was one she was more than willing to follow through with. Her strike would have to be perfect; either the back of the neck or somewhere along the spine would be preferable targets. The consequences of this choice? She would be left vulnerable should she pass out, and if she hadn't killed the spirit, it would have an open shot to take her head. Even if she didn't pass out, the experience would be hard to recover from, and she had yet to find a safe house within Etirath.
She could flee. This was the least favorable option to Desdemona, though would be tactically better. She didn't know what this spirit was capable of, much less if she could even kill it should the need arise. She was already suffering the usual headache that came with the use of her gift, and fighting was something she was trying to avoid. Unfortunately, the thought of fleeing was incredibly distasteful to the redhead. She discarded it initially, but then restored it as a last resort.
The spirit was closing in as she dug her heels into the ground, bending slightly at her knees as she thought over the third option. Attack. If she dropped down to her knees and leaned back, she would be roughly the same height as the spirit. Then, she would be able to swing her blade up in an arc, cutting through the long, organic limb that was stretching to impale her. If her aim was true, she could slice the branch clean off. Even if she missed entirely, she might be able to hit the child's arm or graze it's hip. Consequences of this action? She could fall down, leaving herself open to the attack, or she could drop her knife mid swing. All in all considered, this was the most appealing approach to Desdemona. The spirit was less than a dozen strides away from her.
She darted forward, sliding on her knees for a moment as she drew her knife entirely from it's sheath, the long blade glinting in the setting sun as she swung it upward in an arching motion, praying that the blade hit it's target. Time began to catch back up to her as she pushed forward with her attack. The dizzying speed at which they were actually moving became her reality once again as the sprite and she moved into the positions she had visualized.
All that was left now was to trust that her blade would do what she bade it.
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inherit
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Jan 17, 2019 22:10:26 GMT
4
blacknoise
I don't have kik.
273
Aug 14, 2015 15:19:56 GMT
August 2015
blacknoise
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Post by blacknoise on Mar 27, 2016 1:55:18 GMT
SNAP
The sound of the branches shooting forward and subsequently being cut through and broken off resounded through the alleyway. Holly did not skip a beat, however, immediately blasting off her feet and soaring above the shield of the knight that would have followed the blade of the banshee with a bashing attack. Black feathers twisted and spun off the body of the small forest spirit as it darted through the air. Falling to the ground, the cloak that once covered the girl gently settled on the cobblestones. For a split second, she turned back, and her complete form could be seen.
Glowing bright, her yellow eyes carried a stare that evaluated the beings below as a predator takes in the worth of a prey. Long, sleek, blue-black feathers grew like hair from nearly every part of her body. They pushed through every tear and hole in her tattered tunic and ragged trousers, betraying the much larger amount that likely covered her skin. Her red hair, thin and scraggly, reached down to her waist and intwined itself with the black feathers. About her legs, roots retracted from around her feet and returned into her legs and ankles. Long, thick, strong and sinister claws grew from in between her fingers, toes, and from the back of her heels. They reached past the palms of her hands, digging into the horizontal brick alley wall she seemed to hang on like some sort of lizard.
That one glimpse of her three opponents was all Holly needed to know she had to run. The three below had no idea how much pain she put herself through, utilizing her roots to attack. Once, there was a time that she could heal herself faster than her brain could even register pain, that time past a millenia ago. When she first took to the hibernation, the degrading of her physical form was almost nonexistent, but now... Her body was weak, the feathers well hid the blood that oozed from her slowly healing wounds. The roots from her legs were strong enough to propel her many tens of feet into the air, but they were far harder to repair and summon than the ones in her arms. She was reminded, as she felt the warmth of her own blood trickling down her skin, of her weakness.
Stealing a glance to her arm and observing the deep cut the blade of the woman had made, Holly realized she was outmatched. She could not fight these people, she needed to run.
Claws digging into the brick, Holly scrambled up the wall with ease and was on the rooftop within seconds. Once there, she'd stop moving for a second. Her entire body pulsated with pain and attempting to heal herself was indescribably exhausting. As she pulled herself up, she dared not close her eyes to even blink. Such a rest had a chance to cause her to fall asleep. Right now, sleep meant death. Just as fast as she stopped, she started again, running along the rooftops and seeking to escape the market. But the market was a big place, and her feathers had begun to molt.
Her fleeing would not be untrackable.
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#ed1717
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Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Apr 13, 2016 1:55:03 GMT
The tiny demon proved to be quite the acrobat, vaulting over Godfried's descending shield, landing by the nearby building in an animalistic stance. Light brown eyes stared sternly into flaxen, unbowed and unbreaking in the penetrating fix. The knight braced one foot back, ready to sprint forward at the foe, but it was already fleeing up the side of the alley wall.
"Vile fiend! Return to face your judgement!" he bellowed after the creature, clanking in sharp pursuit of the feathered trail. Lenore watched him pass with an exhausted expression, not even bothering to stop him. Instead, she turned to the creature's victim, letting her longsword to lower to her side.
"I apologize for my father." The number of times she'd had to do that in the past few weeks were remarkable. "He can be a bit... reckless..." She sighed audibly, approaching the red-headed stranger. "Are you alright? What was that?"
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inherit
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xxStitchesxx
7
January 2016
xxstitchesxx
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Post by xxStitchesxx on Apr 30, 2016 0:23:56 GMT
Desdemona's look was one of incredible disbelief as she watched the towering knight charge after the little feathered spirit who had both saved her and attacked her. She took a moment to register the approach of a girl, who looked only slightly younger than herself. With her ears ringing from the adrenaline, she couldn't tell what the girl was saying to her. As such, she reacted on instinct as the swordswoman drew near.
In an attempt to both regain her footing and knock down the approaching threat, she swung herself around, her leg out in an attempt to knock her over. Even if it didn't succeed, the girl might at least back off and give the Siren some space to think. She used her other leg, drawn up under her, to push herself into a standing position, drawing her outstretched leg back in as though dancing. Paying the girl no more attention, Desdy took off after the spirit and her knight pursuer down one of the many weaving "back alleys."
It was easy enough to follow the feathers through the dusk lit market place. She encountered only a single obstacle in her pursuit; the damn knight clanking away ahead of her. He was blocking the majority of the path, and she wasn't quite slender enough to slide gracefully (or ungracefully) between he and the wall. She was potentially able to leap over him if she had some kind of backing... Just as the Siren was considering this, they came upon a sharp turn. A smile danced over her lips briefly as she sprinted for it, angling to hit the corner as soon as the knight turned. She jumped, twisting in air so that her feet hit the wall first, and at such an angle that she pointed down the same path as the knight. She pushed off as hard as she could and went soaring through the air, just high enough and far enough to potentially pass him up and take the lead. If she was lucky, the next thing he would see is the rec cloud of her hair as she landed in front of him and took off again.
If she was unlucky... She was probably about to knock him over as she landed without enough space to take off running again.
She twisted slightly as she soared over his head, swinging her feet forward in front of so she could landed on them as she touched back down. She peeked over her shoulder as she started off at a dead sprint, to check how close the charging knight was.
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inherit
10
0
Jan 17, 2019 22:10:26 GMT
4
blacknoise
I don't have kik.
273
Aug 14, 2015 15:19:56 GMT
August 2015
blacknoise
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Post by blacknoise on May 4, 2016 5:12:12 GMT
Breathing heavily, Holly realized that, as she glared down and saw the Knight and the woman far off on the ground quickly gaining on her, she would have no chance of evading them. It was not that she was not faster than them, it was that she did not possess the stamina to escape. Stopping on the rooftop, she dangled her feet over the edge of the small, two story market building and called out.
"You better give up! You'll never get me up here."
This section of the market was still very empty from the guards demanding it being closed off and emptied in their search for the other woman, though Holly did not know this. Very soon, more guards would come to check on their companions, the companions that Holly had mercilessly slaughtered. She prayed that her bluff would work, that the knight and the woman before her would simply pack up and walk away, beaten by the clever monster that sat above their reach. Unfortunately, she knew it was highly unlikely that her bluff would have any effect.
Sighing, she laid her hands in her head and ran her dark, navy blue fingers through her ragged red hair. The feathers grew lightly, in downy feathers that pillowed about her cheeks and beneath her eyes, however, they tended to leave her hair untouched, not growing there. Whether it was simply her genetics or because she was exceedingly focused on regrowing her curly red hair, Holly had no idea.
What she did know, as she braced herself and began snapping the claws from her hands with great effort and extreme pain, is that if she did not remove the claws immediately, they woudl grow into her palms. There was much Holly did not know, but she knew that her powers were dark, and they revolted against her whenever she utilized them. Therefore, the extremely sharp, thick hooked claws that grew from between her fingers and towards her palms needed to be removed. The last thing she wanted to feel was her one bones growing into her skin.
The very thought made her shudder.
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#ed1717
2
0
1
5
Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Jun 29, 2016 21:48:07 GMT
The leg sweep caught the young woman by surprise, knocking her left foot to the side just as she was stepping down. For a moment, she staggered, stumbling past the once-prone assailant, but finally regained her balance by crashing shoulderlong into a wall. Maybe not the most effective way of halting a fall, but certainly among the most fortuitous.
"Hey! Wait!" Lenore called, rolling her stinging shoulder. The red-headed girl was already gone, sprinting down one of the twisting alleyways, and Godfried's presence was nothing more than an echoing clanking somewhere in the distance. With a sigh, the squire slid down the brick wall. Crossing her legs and massaging her temple ruefully. Why did they always seem to get caught up in conflicts? Godfried's recklessness was certainly a factor, but beyond that, there seemed to be some dark unluck that plagued them in their travels.
Far away from the fatigued lady, an tireless juggernaut coasted through a tight street. The walls on either side almost touched the shoulderplates of his armor, occasionally letting off sparks as he moved too close to the stonework. He held his shield befor him like a battering ram, as if he expected an enemy to materialize before him at any moment.
"You cannot escape, ruffian! I shall show you justice!" he bellowed in his resonant, booming voice.
From behind the metal tank, the light sound of running footsteps appeared. They sounded too light and quick to be Lenore. Probably the victim of the demon he was chasing, or another one of the incompetent district guards. Godfried payed them no heed; his attention was focused on one thing, and one thing only. The little monster. His attention was torn again when the other persuer suddenly appeared above him, bounding off of the corner wall and leaping ahead of him.
"I will handle this, miss! It is dangerous!" He called, but she was already outpacing him and showed no signs of stopping.
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