Praun considered himself a man of science, but he was well aware of the risks associated with searching for strange legends. After all, his encounter with the pleasant spirit Death, he had no right to judge the Tooth Fairy as a fraud. However, as a professional, he had a distaste for Dan Test's way of extracting such lofty fees from his clients. Sure, Praun was willing to go to great lengths for his goals (to the point of turning himself into a lycanthrope, at that), but he wouldn't dare to force an unwitting person to go along with his unusual experiments.
And with that, Praun decided his next goal. He wanted to capture Dan and kindly, oh so kindly, let him know that the magical scientific community didn't appreciate his 'experiments'.
He appeared behind Dan in an melodramatic cloud of orange smoke. "Ah, so I see that you must be the one who is referred to as Dan Test," he snarled. "Do you have anything to say for yourself? Taking advantage of so many people... no wonder you're still bitter." Praun flashed a canine grin at Dan. "Fortunately for you, I've come to show you the error of your ways." And with that, Praun struck Dan firmly with his cane in warning, before using those shining fangs to leave Dan a 'reminder' of his follies in the form of a horrible bite on the arm.
(not sure how to word the title //sweats)
But anyways, first forum game, woohoo-
The scenario is that your OC catches the above OC after running after them, or it could just be something like catching the OC above redhanded in the act.
What does your OC do? Give a gentle admonishing, a more blunt verbal beatdown, or something more... physical?
Onto the rules so this doesn't descend into chaos:
- If any issues arise, PM me! Rules may be subject to change.
- (New) Don't post characters that are only visible to authorized users/only visible to you; the only exception is if you have an access key, but otherwise please don't, it ruins the game flow.
- (New) On the same vein, do not post any characters without a bio. If you do, you will be skipped.
- Put any sensitive content under a spoiler or black it out, like this. Please make sure the text color and the background color are the same!!
- Please, nothing sexual/NSFW; I am a minor and I can't mature this thread, so PG-13 at most.
- Romance is allowed though (though i'm not sure if that'll ever come in this thread), but no romantic adult/minor interactions. If I catch this, I will immediately ban you.
- Please put effort in your responses, make your response at least 3 sentences long. No cookie-cutter responses either.
- Edited rule: Please don't get violent unless the above person is alright with that.
- For now there's no "Wait X posts before posting again" rule since I don't know if this is going to be popular or not, but if this becomes popular then I'll add one.
User 1: *posts IC as Hermes* lol first fite me
User 2: *posts IC as Raphael* "What the- give me that scalpel back, Hermes! You're gonna hurt someone with that!"
User 3: *posts IC as Tsuko* "Wait, why am I going after you? Uhhh... is going back to whatever I was doing an option? No?"
Ban list. This thread will operate on a "3 strikes and you're out" basis, though I may ban you immediately depending on what you did.
None, let's keep it that way.
Alright, let's start. I'll be sacrificing Hel.
Major violence is OK, but please put it under a spoiler or black it out.
If you want, you can just claim a spot and skip me.
SiLk runs after Praun waving. "SIR!!! You forgot your gluh- Owwweee weeeeee! Hot diggity dog! Bite me and call me your prince!" SiLk slicks his hair back. "This is my Cinderella story!!!" SiLk fans himself in excitement. "You look so sad and unloved! Such a frown on your face! Well not to worry, your dashing lover is here to change all of that! No amount of push from you will distance me away. For we are meant to run into each other. And I... Was meant to find this!" SiLk whips out Praun's left glove. "The glove.... Now if this fits... Means we are meant to be..."
"My beautiful, every so handsome beast. I think this glove here fits that paw there." Nodding at his left paw. SiLk glimpse over at the wolf's glowing tattoo. "OOohhh and it sparkles too!" Looks back at him and gets on one knee. "Now allow me to slip it back on."
All while Alira was threatening SiLk, all he could think about was how hot the Rian looked in her bedtime gear. Her messy natural hair with and those sleepy eyes to match. What was it about women? They just look so sexy after waking up. And Alira! Wow, what a woman! So dominant! So perfect!
Wait, what? Did he just hear her right? He made the cut!! SiLk's eyes immediately LIT up when she had said YES to him!! It was the greatest day of his life!! He excitedly squeaked. "Eye Eye Captain!" Not aye aye. LOL!! "You can trust me, won't let you down!" He winks at her.
As she left, SiLk tried to re-step what she said, "touch anything...? or was it not touch anything. But if I can't touch anything.. Means I can't protect the ship. She must meant, touch anything. Yes, because I'm the techie and Captain Alira wanted me to amp her security while she sleeps!"
(are you kidd'n me! GREATEST day of SiLk's life!!)
As the birds faintly sang in the conifers outside, M. Pourife hummed to himself - making sure to block out any birdsong that he did happen to hear - while walking into his lab. As expected, it was completely dark, thanks to the intern who was responsible for turning off the lights last night. He started humming even louder once inside, placing his bag near the door while he started turning on the switches. Each time a light was switched on, the rooms started to get a bit brighter, leaving him somewhat stunned as his eyes had to take a few seconds to adjust to the increasing luminosity.
"At least it's not the other way around," he muttered to himself under his breath after turning on the last light in the main room. That mustache of his twitched ever so slightly while the middle-aged man looked around the room, only for him to realize that the main laboratory was still dark. "Whoops!" M. Pourife exclaimed out loud - not that he cared about anyone hearing his little slip-up - before rushing over to the entrance. A few feet away, he thought he heard a voice coming from the room, but like the fool that he was, he assumed the voice was just a belated echo of his earlier interjection. So, as usual, he moved the switch so that the laboratory light was on, and....
He saw someone standing in the middle of the room and appearing to clutch a crate full of... Scientific equipment!? The most unfortunate thing about this entire arrangement was that how the equipment was packed in a way that made him certain that something would be damaged. In other words, M. Pourife was far, far more upset by the possibility of his beloved instruments being broken or scratched than the fact that there was an intruder in his laboratory who would've gotten away with taking his assets if it weren't for his meddling.
With a chuckle that was either very forced or way too casual for the situation at hand, the scientist leaned against the doorway as he spoke to the thief, who looked nobody he had seen in his entire life, "You know, miss, it would have been much nicer if you just told me you wanted to get some of my equipment, instead of getting in here and trying to stuff that microscope or storage box into who-knows-what. Of course, it would cost money, but I can ensure you that their quality would remain intact when you start using them yourself. Trust me, I know my way with packaging." He didn't, but he assumed that he knew more about it than the stranger, as expected for someone as potentially patronizing as himself.
"Though... To be fair," he muttered with a hand up to his chin, "I would not know exactly how my equipment would be of use to you... You seem like a captain of something, so maybe if you were the captain of a research ship, I can understand the need for instruments suitable for your pursuits. After all, you cannot gather data if you have nothing to do it with!" The oblivious man laughed before gently slapping his thigh in clear amusement. "But please, do tell me, miss. What brings you here right now? It is so early in the morning; I bet most people would have just gotten out of bed." M. Pourife's eyes brightened while he exclaimed, "Oh, curiosity must have brought you here, if you wanted to take my equipment! Miss, please do tell me what you wish to pursue in life; I am sure that it would make a very interesting conversation..."
follow-up to the post below... ngl the mental image of a little girl going up to a man with a stick is hilarious and I'm sdygcdyuc-
When he felt a tugging sensation on his backside, M. Pourife was initially convinced that it was some wild animal trying to bite at him, so he... Froze. The underlying biological principle - at least in his eyes - was that if he froze, the animal would lose interest and just go away. Or eat him, which he didn't consider. He just knew that the reaction going on was the classic "fight or flight" response, and his mind was racked criticizing the idea as overly simplistic. Why am I not trying to punch this animal or run away from it? Why am I just standing here? Is something wrong with my adrenals?
The feeling jabbed at him like the stick poking at his leg. Still believing that it was an animal who was causing these sensations, the scientist braced himself for a decent amount of pain... Only for him to realize that he wasn't even being injured. He sighed in relief, his perception now shifting to a dog that got lost and just happened to find him the first interesting person to pass by. He turned himself and lifted his hand to pet the dog...
Only for him to see that a little girl was trying to get his attention.
He opened his mouth to ask if she was lost, only for her to demand, "Gimme all your money." Ummmmm... Okay? M. Pourife glanced off to the side, one of his hands just casually going through his pockets. Maybe he did have money, maybe he didn't. It was just sort of a natural response for him at this point, in spite of the ludicrous nature of the situation at hand. The girl quite literally posed no threat to him, and if he wasn't so pacifistic, he could've easily just delivered a quick kick to the stomach and run away. However, he so ardently believed that any form of violence was not part of his character that the pocket was the first place he went to.
Too bad said pocket was empty. Well, damn. His brows furrowed as he exchanged glances with the child and himself. It wasn't like she could beat him up, except for delivering some swift punches to the legs (painful but ultimately harmless). Still, the intimidation factor was definitely there because M. Pourife was the definition of a coward when it came to confrontation.
Putting his hands up, the middle-aged man hastily replied with a somewhat strained - but also somewhat genuine - smile, "Sorry, miss, I don't think I have any money right now. If you want to buy something, though, I'm more than happy to do so. I just need to get home and get my wallet first. Would that arrangement work for you?"
To Manslaughter, anyone was easy prey. She was hunting. How dramatic. The girl skulked down the road, and though in her mind she was very much a jaguar stalking through a jungle canopy, eyes alight, her actions couldn't be further from the truth, in reality. She walked after M. Pourife, keeping at a steady pace, not bothering to cover her tracks or duck behind dumpsters like she perhaps should, although her not doing so was probably a good thing for M. Pourife, who was very unfortunate to fall prey to her. A sharp stick-- one she found laying on the ground-- sat conspicuously in her hoodie pocket, jutting out of a threadbare hole in the front.
While she wasn't looking for violence, she was instead looking for money. And that tie of his.
The girl scuttled up to him from behind, and whether he noticed her presence or not didn't deter her from reaching up to try and yank on the back of his shirt. She removed her stick from her pocket and poked it at his back side. It didn't work. It stopped working a long time ago. Even then, Pourife could simply yank away from her. She was, like, two.
"Gimme all your money." she told him, "I want your money. Now."
If only she were bigger and stronger, she would have liked to do exactly what she did a long time ago. On Grand Theft Auto.
the mermaid glided through the tropic waters, sunlight gleaming off her scales. yet another sunny day! she laughed to herself, of course it was another sunny day. another day in paradise... surf, sun and tourists.... oh tourists... what a painful joy...
Tifai glanced up, as something splashed into the water.
"gah, trash again? I should-" she muttered to herself.
She whipped around angrily, ready to grab the waste and froze. that... that was not trash... not trash at all. a person! a small, bound and masked figure struggled against the ropes binding their legs together. a trail of red floated above the figure, filling the water with the scent of iron. With a gasp Tifai lurched forward and grabbed the figure.
please be fine, please be fine
she swam desperately toward the surface of the calm waters.
"please be okay." she gasped as she held the pink clothed figure above the water.
(I am sure the blood isn't Manslaughter's)
How Dolores was even aware of marine life sometimes eluded the elder herself, for she had lived (and worked) mainly inland for most of her life. The most contact she had with the sea was the coast, where she felt the sea breeze against her face and could sometimes see the waves lapping against the shore... Yet her only experience with fish remained what was in the supermarket: rows and rows of fish... Sometimes in packages, sometimes on ice. Oh, and in food, of course, but that was a given. Dolores, in other words, was more familiar with the taste of fish than how it actually looked.
Therefore, when she saw what appeared to be a fish-person hybrid near the city's docks, the old woman almost fainted on the spot! How such an individual ever managed to ascend a mountain confounded her, and just the overwhelming weight of the thought itself was enough to make her short-circuit. "Ummmmmmmm..." she drawled out at first, and in fact, that was the only thing in her mind at the time. No other response fit.
Then it hit her: this individual was probably freezing! Goodness, what was she doing!? Leaving someone out in that icy water out there and thus to die... It made her shake her head as she stepped forward. Shivering due to the sheer intimidation emanating from the other party, she raised a shaky hand while scanning the individual. She definitely didn't seem like the person to be in this type of water; those scales seemed so bright anyways... The fish she saw at the market were never this colorful, unless they were clearly marked as having been imported from the lowlands.
"You... You're probably freezing, aren't you?" Dolores asked before stretching her hand out so that she could take the other party onto land, "I know this is a bit of a stretch, but..." She glanced at the scales as her nervous energy started to accumulate. "You really should get out of that water as soon as possible. How about you stay the night with me, young lady? It's warm in my house; I'm sure it'd be much better than the polar temperatures out here... I'll... Ummmm... See what to do from there..." Rubbing the back of her neck, the reality of this plan hit her, and it hit her hard. If the other party really was part fish, then how the hell was she going to keep her in her house? Maybe fill up the bathtub, but that seemed demeaning; also, there was the good chance the water bill would be off the charts as a result. Still, it was definitely better than the cold - at least in the older woman's eyes.
"Please, though," she insisted with a building sense of urgency, "It's really not a good idea to be out here late at night. You're lucky I happened to find you during the noon, when the water isn't so cold... But it's still fairly cool by your standards, probably-" She cut herself off as she knew she was probably talking way, way too much at this point. Now, Dolores just waited for the other party's reaction, still shivering as she did so...
AHHHHHH A FOLLOW-UP..............
Dolores fumbled her hands through the bags as she exited the store. In her mind, she was convinced that... Maybe something was missing? She stopped moving for a second, her mind steadily clouding in the process. It was easier, for someone as old and cluttered as her, to take this question in a completely metaphorical direction - when in reality, the answer was quite literal. The older woman had joked about it in the past, comparing it to how students sometimes find symbolism in the mundane, but when she experienced it firsthand...
It wasn't necessarily a good one.
She hummed to herself alongside the melting snow when she heard a loud "Hey!" directed towards her. Almost reflexively, Dolores let out an "Oh?" and turned around to face a middle-aged blond man running towards her. Dolores froze, clutching her bags to herself while looking up at him. Maybe it was deja vu, maybe it wasn't, but... Wow, he looked familiar. She rubbed her eyes for a second, only for her to let out a yelp when she thought some of her groceries were going to fall to the ground.
"Ah?" she uttered initially when he caught up to her and presented her a journal, "I... I'm not really the type of person to have a journal, but..." She dipped her head at him; if her hands weren't so busy, the elder likely would've done a full-on curtsy, but so it goes. That was how it went. "... Thank you nonetheless," Dolores stated with a faint chuckle, "Just... Don't hand it to me, please? Though I really don't want to... Speak down to you in any way, you know?" She chuckled to herself, though the pauses between each giggle made her smile seemed stressed as all hell. Her hands quavered in the process of it all.
When the other man asked her about her clothes, Dolores merely squeaked and replied, "Well... It's just how I normally wear my clothes. Back at home, it's really cold..." But now that he mentioned it, it was pretty hot here. She was definitely going to get heat stroke, huh? The older woman looked down at her coat, then set down a bag so that she could partially unzip it. It didn't help that much, but the older woman supposed that it would suffice until she got home - then she'd definitely zip it back up. "Um, don't worry about going into anyone's business," she stated with a small sigh, "I do appreciate the concern at the very least. Besides, I'm also the type of person to get all... Up in people's business... Ha..." She tittered once more, but it wasn't relaxed like before. Ouch.
"Hey!" Alcott called out while rushing in Dolores's direction. He paused for a minute to catch his breath. Damn, today was way too hot. "I'm glad I finally caught up to you," he said between pants. He held an item out to her. It seemed like a small journal of sorts. Perhaps a planner? Or something to write a shopping list on? "Don't worry, I didn't read," Alcott assured. "But I saw it fall out of your purse. Figured you'd want it back." He paused. "Hey, uh, aren't you burning up in all those clothes?" he asked, motioning to all the layers. "Today's got to be a heat wave. I'm burning up as is. Are you sure you're okay?" Normally he'd try to stay out of people's affairs, but he didn't want to avoid someone possibly getting heat stroke.
"Finally. Get over here, you rat," Alcott grumbled as he grabbed something and yanked it away from its hiding place. In his hands was a duck. A duck wearing a bow tie. He breathed out a sigh of relief. This duck escaped his home earlier this morning and drove the teacher crazy trying to hunt him down, but now he was finally safe and sound.
Alcott turned to see a sword pointed at him, causing him to jump slightly. The duck took advantage of the one (1) second of weakness and flailed out of his grasp, waddling away in freedom. Alcott reached for him, only to be stopped by the old man's ranting. "Shit. Goddammit," the teacher growled under his breath before looking at Noel. Part of him wanted to call his bluff and kick his shit in for ruining his capture, but he reeled it back.
"As you can see, I wasn't here for prying. I was here to find my husband's pet. Thanks. Now put the sword away so I can go back to finding him so I can get back home in time to see my daughter."
It wasn't out of the ordinary for Noel to wake up way in the middle of the night-- or in this case, early in the morning-- and then slowly become more and more... restless. It didn't help that he thought he heard noises outside the shitshack he and his daughter lived in. Who, speaking of, he glanced over to find her fast asleep in a nearby corner, so that scratched her off the list of what could be out there, shuffling around. He sat up on the floor and rubbed his face, grumbling under his breath. The man hauled himself to his feet and stumbled towards the closest window, where he peered out into the darkness, where he could just barely make out the shape of a tall, blonde man amongst the trees. He swore under his breath, but shut up when he noticed his stupid dumb child stir. He didn't say anything to her as he collected his sword from its scabbard and then bolted out the door.
He found the man again, still hanging about. He wasn't certain what he was doing, but Noel, who lived in the middle of shit-fuck nowhere, was not happy about seeing him. He stood there in the dark, clutching his sword and glaring at the stranger, hissing quietly to him, "You're going to tell me what the fuck you're doing out here right now. This isn't your neck of the woods." Nor was this Noel's house, actually, but that was all cool. Of course it was cool. It wasn't like some dead guy was rolling in his grave over a bunch of strangers chilling in his not-so-nice house.
He slunk closer to Alcott. He could have sworn he caught a whiff of cigarette smoke wafting off the younger man. "You don't look like the type to wander around someone's house without reason. You look like you probably live somewhere, out there. You're not a native." Thank the gods... "But, I don't appreciate you hanging around. I have a girl in there. She's not going to be happy about strangers."
It's fine. Maribelle likes old men.
"So." He stopped to sniffle. Ugh, the floor was dusty. "So, you're going to tell me. Or else. I'm not afraid of gutting some boy." He's forty...
i give you... a follow-up post...
Noel realized he was being followed. The feeling was something he understood well, and it was something he was vexed by enough to warrant him walking briskly through the city streets, desperate to find somewhere safe to relax. And if whoever kept hounding him didn't fuck off, he was going to do worse than bash them in the nose. It made him breathe funny. It made him nervous. It was one of those times when he couldn't tell the good and the bad apart, and if he couldn't escape, he was just going to turn around and beat the shit out of-- oh, that wasn't the guy, was it?
He stared down at the man crumpled up on the ground for a few moments. His knuckles ached from the swing. But, rather than apologize, Noel turned on his heels and bolted for the nearest crowd, pushing past the gathering people and to the shops.
He wiped his bloodied fist on his shirt, scowling and mumbling under his breath. He huffed out a sigh and raised his head upon hearing the voice behind him. He turned quickly and came face to face with the smaller man. "War doesn't happen on the streets?" he hissed, "I thought you were a dumbass for following me, but now..." He pulled himself away from the wall where he tried to relax. He walked slowly towards the boy. "I should beat your fucking ass for following me like that."
He full-on planned to do that, too. He inched closer to Malcom, reaching his hand out to grab the teenager by the collar of his jacket and hauling him closer. He glared coldly down at him, and growled, "You should be more fucking careful going after me, but I'll ask you-- do you prefer getting your face bashed in like your friend's, or getting your fucking arm snapped in three?"
It took Malcom a few seconds to digest what just happened, he had just been walking back to the inn where Harrison, Elias, and Laike and himself is staying when he was passed by an older man. The man looked grumpy and like he wanted to be left alone but something about him stuck with Malcom, almost as if the world was telling the green-haired boy to go after him. Malcom's body ached from the soldier training but he did his best to turn and search for the man's head in the busy crowd.
"Sir!" He calls out once he spots the man and starts going after him, the crowd uncaring. "Sir, please wait!" Malcom tries to call out again but the man either doesn't hear him or acts like he doesn't. It takes a few minutes for Malcom to break through the crowd but by then, the man isn't anywhere to be seen, there is, however, a man with a bleeding nose on the ground where the tough looking man was once. "He fucking punched me!" The man on the ground snaps in an annoyed fashion, Malcom nods, not having a new sense of urgency to look for the man. Maybe the world was right in making Malcom pay attention to the strange man.
The green haired boy roams the streets, pearing into alleys and shops as he searched. Finally, he spots the man near the market and he hurries to catch him. "Hey, you!" Malcom calls out, "You in the black cloak!" the man stops and turns slightly, a scowl on his face. Malcom's bones ached, his limbs in pain and begging to be allowed rest but Malcom did his best to stand his ground.
"Why did you punch the man? What did he do to you?" The green-haired boy asks, "Random fighting is only allowed during soldier training, wars, and in the arena and the streets certainly isn't any of those places and I've never seen you in soldier training or in the arena. Who do you think you are?"
A loud voice pierced through the room as the lights were suddenly switched on: "You!"
Stomping into the room was a pretty pissed middle-aged woman, who had heard a crash and some shuffling in the middle of the night and decided to investigate. These noises were the only reason why the young man's presence was given away anyhow, since her own creatures - which served as both her companions and her "guard animals" - were tightly asleep, and she was well-aware of this as she quieted herself moments later so that her mouth was shut and curled into a scowl.
Even then, her agitation was palpable as she slowly advanced towards the young man, growling, "You... You really thought it was a good idea to break into the house of an accused murderer? At this very moment?" She giggled before leaning on the stand that supported one of her fossils, this one being dedicated to a piece of a petrified tree trunk that she had excavated a few months ago. Her eyes fluttered at him as soon as she noticed the sketchbook tightly clenched in his hands, and that was when she realized...
This man isn't a fucking thief! He is in here to sketch out my collection! She glanced off to the floor for a second, then back at the other party. Well, this is a bit awkward. I expected worse, but at the same time... Artists are such an unusual bunch...
"You know, you could have just asked me about my collection if you were that interested in learning about it," she grunted more calmly, though an edge remained in her voice even then. Her frown - by then - was replaced with a thin yet plastered, saccharine smile that easily could be mistaken as part of a doll. Disgusting. "Not only would it have been so much easier for you, but it would also be... More legal... Not that I can say much due to my own run-ins with the law." She rolled her eyes before waving a hand at him, before starting to giggle once more and tease, "Wait... Is the reason why you are here because you thought I was going to kill you? You think I would be that brutal about a subject as innocent as fossils?" Her giggling continued, but it sounded a bit more... Strained than before? Ouch.
"Either way," Brown concluded with a sigh, "you are welcome to finish up the sketch that you are currently working on at the moment. But do not trespass on my property again after that, okay?" The woman bared her teeth at him while continuing to smile eerily. "I will not be nearly as merciful to you the second time around... Do you understand?"
fizz I'm living for this ongoing narrative...................... >:)
rip Ros but also potential rip for the others involved...... here's a (very long and meaty) follow-up. (this will definitely be a pain in the ass to read so spoilers box is a friend..... rip my fingers.)
How Brown ended up on the ship was a bit of a mystery, but as the ground wobbled beneath her feet - as well as bobbed up and down - she already came to a conclusion: she fucking hated it and wanted to get back on solid ground. Pronto. Too bad this fishy individual was preventing her from doing so, and it was making her quite agitated as she shifted her boots against the ground and gave him the combination of a raised brow and irritated stare.
"Why, yes," she drawled, "I am indeed the Wolf. I hope that you are disappointed that I do not have fur on my arms, or long sharp teeth that I could use to bite your face clean off." Not with those canines on the other party's face, you're not. Her teeth clicked against each other as she still attempted to secure her balance, and in the meanwhile, the woman silently cursed out the other party for getting her into this predicament in the first place. His attitude didn't help either, and she was very, very tempted to give him a slap in the face for dragging on this encounter way, way longer than it needed to be, at least in her eyes. The faint odor of rot didn't help either, and for a second, she thought she was feeling a bit on the woozy side.
Even after he ordered her to take a seat, she maintained her apathy as she sat down across from the man, who proceeded to light up a cigar after asking if she minded the smoke. Of course I would not! The woman crossed her arms and leaned back against the chair, continuing to blink ever so slowly as the smoke started to waft through the room and eventually into her nostrils. Ah, tobacco. That was a comforting scent at least; it made her forget that she was talking to a ruffian, made her think that she was talking to a sophisticated gentleman with a bit of a rough attitude.
It reminded her of her friend anyhow, and he just so happened to have that same demeanor. Too bad he was never inclined to take a smoke, she thought to herself with a scowl while picking at her cuticles.
"I could kill you. Right here, right now," he told her with an ominous glint in his eyes that actually made her sit up and look at him. Yet, weirdly enough, Brown didn't seem perturbed by the threat at all; she instead gave him a thin smile, because to be completely honest, she would've uttered the same exact clause if she were in his shoes. Or set of teeth. She even leaned in ever so slightly, just to hear what he had to say better.
The rabble of the casino and bar was always so undignified...
With a nod and faint titter, Brown replied coyly, "Neither would I. I already achieved my purpose anyhow, soaking up the limelight and going down in infamy anyways. Death would not matter to me one bit. People will still remember me even after I die. I wonder if that would be the same for you..." Her chuckling continued, but as soon as the Half started to roar with laughter, she joined in too, her giggling escalating into howling as the woman now gave him a grin that indeed reached her eyes. "Do it," she challenged him with a wink, "Tear my throat out right now. Put those teeth of yours to good use. You would be doing everyone a favor here. Me, you, the rest of these laypeople... Even my daughter and dead husband." Not that she expected him to follow through, but then again, that was simply part of the game of politics.
And when it came to politics, aiming at the other's weaknesses was always key, even when forming alliances. This man just so happened to strike one of her soft spots when he mentioned fossils.
Her grin faded slightly as she now regarded him with a tender smile, remarking, "Ah, so you have heard of me indeed, hm? Not just the Wolf?" She gently traced her finger along the hemline of her pants. Now that... She didn't know what to feel what about that; it was a detail about her that she held dear to her heart, even if she was open about it. Brown looked back up at him as an eerie sense of dread started to accumulate in her spine. If he knew that about her, then... What else? The woman's finger continued to go along the hemline, but now it was scratching it as some sort of nervous tic.
"I have more than enough money to provide you with what you need," she stated coarsely with a flutter of her eyes, "just as long as you satisfy your end of the deal and supply me with those fossils, yes?" Wow, she didn't even seem to care that they were smuggled. Okay then. (Though to be fair, expecting an accused murderer to give a shit about anti-smuggling policies was a bit of a stretch.) The decreased distance between them was maintained, though she was now so enraptured by the offer that she scooted her chair in so that she was significantly closer to him than before. "But carnivores like us are always thirsty for power and control, huh? I can at least respect that about you. You may be a beast, yes, but you're really damn honest about it. That is indeed a sentiment that is shared between us."
Uh oh.
It took her a second to realize what he meant by his "rival," but once she did... She was a bit confused. Roswell, huh? Brown swiped at her nose before her smile faded into a small pout. Does he seriously think I know that much about him? The Crow? I mean, we have interacted a lot, but... Her mood soured, and she retreated back to the safety of her chaise. The information I have about him would be sparse. Hon, you literally know where he lives. That wouldn't count as "sparse" by any means.
"Maybe I do, maybe I do not," she told the Half with a shrug, "I only visited that urchin's abode once, and he might have changed dwellings by now. Besides..." Her smile started to return as she could now look back at him in the eye - or teeth for that matter. "... He spends more time and effort trying to pursue me than vice versa, you know. You heard of the ravens always following the wolves whenever a kill is made? That's a pretty accurate metaphor of the dynamic we have. The only real advantages I have here is that I can beat him up in a fight, and that I do not have to look as hard to find him as most." The adage was so amusing to her that she giggled, though it was difficult to tell if she was joking, being sarcastic, or genuinely flattered by the attention. Probably some weird combination of the three. "But... Yes, you would be right. A win-win for both of us..."
Her former confidence returned as she leaned back in, a grin starting to reappear on her face in the process. She posited an elbow on the table as she craned in even closer, her fingers now just close enough to try prying out a fang if she felt so inclined.
"Alliance, sir... Alliance. You complete your end of the deal, as aforementioned, and I will do so too. But be gentle now, hm? You better give me something too, when I give you the money... Maybe a fossil, dear sir? Since you claim to know so much about their transport in the first place..." Oh shit. Oh fuck.
SDFSDFKLSJKLDF Nathaniel's crew member when they hear their boss and this strange lady laugh like cartoon villains in the backroom
--
"There she finally is, " Nathaniel said. "The legendary wolf, without teeth, " Nathaniel spat at her. Showing her his own pointy teeth in a wide grin that didn't reach his eyes. He circled around Brown, and the wooden planks of his ship softly squeaked with every step. "I should be honored. Having such a high honored guest in my humble casino. Should I bow?" Nathaniel asked her. He finally stopped circling, but the smile was far from disappearing. "I should, shouldn't I my lady, " Nathaniel said before making a mocking knee bow. "Now that formalities are out of the way. Come now, take a seat, " Nathaniel pointed at one of the two chairs in his crammed 'office'. It was at the back end of the ship, but they could still hear the lively sounds of the casino and bar, not far from them. It was a moisty place. The walls were wet and the smell of mosses and rot always slightly present. Nathaniel lit one of his oil lanterns, shoved his paperwork aside, and made himself comfortable on his own chair. "Mind if I?" He asked. He nodded at his unlighted pipe of tobacco. Nathaniel didn't really wait for Brown's response though as he lit it a few seconds later. Nathaniel softly rubbed his beard while looking at the stiff, out of place, aristocrat in his casino."I could kill you, " he bluntly said. "Right here. Right now. And nobody would bet an eye. Nobody would miss, yet another corrupt aristocrat. Maybe, I should." He eyed her for a long time in silence, then started to laugh at her. Rude. "But you're not here for that, now aren't you. I've got some wind of some.. fossils and yóu want to get them, " Nathaniel said. Pointing his finger in her direction "But I'm not interested in your money. Wait, " he paused for a few seconds before saying; " I'm actually very interested in your money. But... I like to think that we, carnivores, " another taunting laugh, "can help each other out? You know some stuff, especially about their whereabouts of my..Rival. And I know when and how those fossils get smuggled into the city. Win-win right?" Nathaniel lay his foot on his bureau and took a deep, tobacco, breath. "And maybe some money, that would be nice too." Nathaniel's sharp gaze locked itself on her as his darkened forked tongue licked his beastlike teeth. "As a small..present, " he said. "For our new, friendship." Sure bud.
--
His ear twitched a bit when she mentioned friends.. Did he got any? He frowned. Then he got it. "Hey!" He said snarling. "Did you just call me a fish!?" He spat.
Fire Opal was yet again, slacking off. She had sequestered herself in her ship, which to the unassuming eye looked like a temple. She sits upon her captains chair, her fingers together in a menacing stare. She clapped her hands and a red spotlight shone on her victims face. Her grin stayed the same, but her pupils shrank even smaller than they were, giving her an unnerving appearance.
Nathaniel was on his knees, his hands bound behind his back, sealed in a bubble. “Eheheh.... EHEHEH AHAHAHAAH!” The gems laugh was so inhuman, so gnarled and haggard it struck fear into the very air that surrounded the pair. “It seeeeemsss... I have found a little vaaaarmint on my ship.” She purred with what sounded like a smokers voice.
The ship was so smooth, every surface an inky black with a dim red light barely brushing its surface. “Who triieeed to ‘suffoooocate’ me.” She snickered. “I ooooutta knock your miserable head offfff of your shooulders.” She growled.
Standing up, her hands fell into fists by her side. Her smile still wide under her bubble. “Insteeaad... I’ll hollooow our your body and cook you up....” She cackles. “Then... I’ll feed you to your friends.... Ahahahah...” Her mouth opens to an impossible size, and she sticks her hand inside of it and removes a thin black dagger.
“I’ll start with your mouth, Eheheh.... AHAHAH!”
—-
(Sweet callback!)
The Opal’s eyes narrowed as her grin slightly dipped down. “I have had no such relaaaaations with yooooou.” She scoffed. “If I can’t killlllll you... my diiiiiamond certainly can....” She spits at him.
“So eat me if you daaaaaare. Don’t choooooke on me you damned muuuuutt.” She snarled.
The night of the thick forest was one dark night, Fire Opal would found herself getting lost in this maze. Fogs, trees, leaves, doesn't seem like anyone would find her any time soon looking from the ship above. Suddenly, a call for help sounding like her target.
Unfortunately, it was simply a trick. And no matter how much she would attack this black wolf creature, it wouldn't form a wound. Instead consuming her inky black daggers when ever it's used on it and grown in size and strength. Bubble wouldn't have worked either, as the creature's agile was pretty fast, combining with how big it had gotten. Her only option left is to run, thus the black thing chased her.
It was quite a long chase, but in the end Black Thing caught up to her. It pinned her down and face up close as it sniff for her scent. It was close enough that she could hear its breathing and the saliva dripping. Suddenly, the creature spoken. "Oh...it's you..." Seem like it reconized her. Weird. Considering she had never seen this creature before until the encounter earlier. "You...the lazy talking gem...we meet again. Bufufufufu..." Black thing laughed menacingly. Before pressing her against the ground more and speak with threatening voice "How about I take a bite of your arm? It will come back anyways but you know...for entertaining purposes..." For some reason it felt like this is some kind of revenge or something. Weird.
Sarangerel had heard the rumors. Who hadn't? Some great black... thing, roaming the woodlands, terrorizing the smallfolk- anything like that was bound to make the rounds a few times. Some grand new bogeyman to scare the kiddies into staying in their rooms at night instead of sneaking out and romancing the neighbours or what-have-you. That was always the purpose of things like these, maintaining the status quo. To keep things in line, you had to have something to be afraid of, and when you were afraid of something, it was easier to band together to fight it.
"Fight it," in this case, meaning "pay whatever sorry bastard you first come across to catch the damned thing." At the time, her thought process had consisted mostly of "well, money is money," but sitting in an innroom waiting for the telltale sound of a trap clanging shut, the glow of her map where she'd marked out the locations... she was tempted to just call it quits, really. No use chasing fantasies, even if the pay was good. It'd be easier to just paint a dog black and toss it at her bewildered employer, here's your "black beast," open and shut. That'd at least keep the operation from dragging on too long.
The thing to knock her out of her thoughts was a shriek from out of her window, only barely masked by the sound of clattering metal. Part of her was tempted to stay in bed, just ignore it until sunrise- it was just some hapless animal wandering into a trap set for something far more dangerous than it. Until it started talking- That was certainly enough to catch her attention. A violent, spluttering stream of curses led her through the night, all the way to her quarry.
"Oh. Well, isn't that interesting..." Sarangerel paced wide circles around the Black Thing, axe driving deep ridges into the soil as it dragged lazily behind her. Her tone was almost clinical, muttering things under her breath like "vaguely caniform" and "advanced mimicry." It seemed like hours before she was finally done, resting her hand on her hip as she gave it another once-over. "Let's see... I'm going to need to find a way to get you unconscious. They might want you dead, but you're far more valuable to me alive."