Misty Peak

[Lerry Jive]

𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄x⍆x𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊xxxx Blue Sea l Underground City

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xxxxxClaimed by: ---x▰▰▰▰▰▰


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Misty Peak is a town system located in tunnels deep inside of a mountain. It’s completely covered in mist and fog making it extremely difficult to navigate, and it’s become common place to see lost travelers or the bodies of those who died never finding a way down… or up. The locals have a vast array of stores and foods for those who find it, but they are known to be a fairly difficult bunch to understand. They do live in a mountain after all. Something to look out for the local goat like creatures rumored to dash across the peaks of these shrouded structures.
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[North Lotus]

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ { J U D G E } ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤
Galan Drace || Swordsman x Gladiator || Pirate || Fruit [---] || 20,000
Str: 5 || End: 5 || Spd: 5 || Acc: 5 || Int: 5 || Spi: 0
╔════════════════════════════════════════════╗

[ What a rush! The past few days have been some of the best Galand has experienced in years. So recently he’s met a lot of up and coming rookies, all of which seem to be exceptionally high with potential. Thinking about it gets him to smile every single time. After showing his metalic armored form to so many people, however, he realizes that he’d need to take some time back from the eyes of the public for a while. Which means he’d need to lose the armor temporarily so that he can give people time to forget or lose interest in his ‘other’ self. After sliding off pieces of the armor, and leaving them back on his lone man boat to rest, the now freed man covered in bandages heads off on this new island. Normally he’d keep his katana strapped to his right side, being right handed himself, but in this case he decides to strap it onto his back for a bit of variety. It’d help throwing off any potential people from recognizing him. Although, the likelihood of them realizing is small in the first place.

“Man, I gotta admit I feel naked without the armor… But seriously, it feels to light leaving it behind for a change.” he yawns out loud with a lazy expression of his face before putting his hands behind it head.

“I could get used to this. Probably.” he states before heading off to make way deeper into the island. After making it a bit further up a path he notices a small shack along off to the side, and boy is there a really nice smell coming from it! After smiling, almost drooling at the decadent scent, and with the encouragement of a rumbling stomach, the swordsman finds himself jog stepping there. “Well since I don’t have anywhere to go anyways, might as well make a pit stop!” After finding himself standing before the small shack eatery, Galand places his hands behind his head again and looks up at the words plastered across a banner. “Dango Soupery, huh? Dango soup… Never had it before. Well, first time for everything I guess.” he remarks before stepping along into the shop and sitting atop a stool before a bar-like structure.

After noticing someone entering, an older couple steps from a back room and stands before him across the bar. “Welcome, welcome, son! What can we do for ya this fine day?” the older guy asks. The woman, presumably his wife, gives a warm welcoming smile helping to loosen up any possible tension from the greetings. “Oi, Jiji. This. This one.” he says, pointing down at a particular soup listed on a small menu laid across the bar. “What’s a dango soup? I’m interested but, is somethin’ like that really good?” he questions, waiting for the old man to give his reply. He’d need to fill up and cover his energy reserves before trekking the mountains of Whiskey Peak. But if his sources are correct, he can probably find some pretty interesting people up there. For now, he’d rest. ]

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Words in Post: 514 || Uncashed Words: --- || Uncashed EXP: --- || Cashed EXP: --- || Rank: ---

IC Notes: ---
Credit: Format base by Fauna Lestrade.

Misujage

 

[Misujage]

"reмeмвer тнaт a ѕword нeld вy ѕoмeone wнo ιѕ aвoυт тo dιe… wιll never вe aвle тo proтecт anyтнιng."

Breathing. The act of drawing air inward and outward. Heavy. One thing being capable of imposing heavy pressure on the other. Maybe this was why her lungs felt like they were collapsing. She only remembered meeting Kaito and Johnny. Walking off to train, it all goes black from there. Shattered. Even her muscles felt strained, less so, like they were zapped of strength. This wasn't any mere exhaustion she had ever experienced. No, something in her body was screaming for freedom. It had been for a while, she was kind of accustomed to it. Still, her breath staggered from time to time. If ever she neglected to focus on the pain, the shock took over all of her senses, The boat struck a rocky shore, she had come back to the North Blue. Still, she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do here. The Hunter's Guild, then why was she here. Forget it, she was too tired to nitpick. She strapped up her boat, tumbling from it to an upright stance. Odd, how even in so much pain her posture was impeccable. Not a slouch in sight. The only sign of turmoil was in the way her left hand held onto her right arm. Cradling herself from more danger and deception. Darkness here, she could see a town embedded in the rock some far off ways. if only for the lights illuminated in the dark cave. This would never work.

Her eyes shifted bit, roads and bridge ways constructed of pure stone. They seemed sturdy enough, but they all led in a single direction. She huffed, light reflected about the moistened cave. However, were they lights from the entrance behind her. Lights from the city, or independent homes of their own. Climbing was work, but she did it, as long as she focused on the pain it was always with her. If it was always with her, it was a burden she could learn to bare. Hands shaky, knees weak arms spaghetti. She found herself outside of an old shack. No, not an old shack, not quite as small as it appeared. her depth perception must have been skewed. It was still so far off, but the path was a bit more direct now. Hell, she could see a straighter path on the further side of the place. Minutes, she would make her way there. Her breathing was harder now, she could hear it. In her ears it was especially loud, she could only wonder if others could as well. Still. Her posture did not falter. Her left arm cupped her right shoulder, but her right arm hung limply.

She relived her right arm and went to push open the door but paused, she shouldn't just walk into the place. Sure it looked like an eatery but one could never be super certain. Her eyes finally went up to the sign above her. Realizing how silly she should have been. So lost in her own pain she was missing simple things. "Dango ... Soupery ..." She spoke to herself before shoving the door open. (I know there was no door in your post I want one, shut up.) She looked inside to see a man at a counter and two older individuals behind it. She made her way over. Looking extra uncomfortable, it had to have been that straight posture of hers. She stepped to a stool two down from the other patron as the elders took his order. She pressed her hands to the bottom of her skirt to hold it down before sliding into the seat. Wincing from the strain in her arms, she lost focus for a moment. No problem, she was back at it. Tightened jaw and all. She sat quietly, hands upon her lap and back straight. She remained that way until she could get a good hot meal in her. Not that Pirate food had ever been really good, but some of it was comforting. Until she ran away she couldn't say she had ever experienced what fat was.

"a caѕтle тнaт vanιѕнeѕ aт тнe ғιrѕт gυѕт oғ wιnd ιѕ worтнleѕѕ. a ѕĸyѕcraper wιтнιn yoυr мιnd wιll never ғall down."

North Lotus

 

[North Lotus]

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ { J U D G E } ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤
Galan Drace || Swordsman x Gladiator || Pirate || Fruit [---] || 20,000
Str: 5 || End: 5 || Spd: 5 || Acc: 5 || Int: 5 || Spi: 0
╔════════════════════════════════════════════╗

[ The old man chuckles at Galand’s curiosity, possibly seeing it as the act of a youthful hungry ruffian, or a very curious man who hasn’t tasted the delight of his home cooked delights. He bends forward a bit and, after noticing what his customer is pointing at, leans back happily wide eyed. “Oho! So you’re interested in the Dango Ramen Supreme, are you?! Well say no more, lad! I’ll gladly whip you up a bowl!” The older lady besides him seems to pop up chipper than ever, grabbing hold of various utensils and spices before quickly making way for the kitchen with her associate in tow. The two of them furiously prepare the meal, all the while smiling with joy. Finally, they’d get to provide a meal to someone new to these parts. Their hopes for his reaction serve as pure driving force so that they can make this bowl of dango ramen the best they’ve ever crafted. Or at least, somewhere close to it! With the smell wafting through the air, Galand’s body nigh shakes before he’s sent into a hunger frenzy.

He grabs his provided fork and knife then proceeds to bang his hands comically on the bar, making a huge fuss until his meal is provided. “Food! Food! Delicious food!” he chants over and over until the magnificently crafted meal-in-a-bowl is set before him. With widened eyes does he stares at the food. From the noodles, to the strangely glazed dango shish kabobs, to the golden spiced broth, to the many assorted additions to complete the meal. Everything looks absolutely scrumptious! “Uwooooooh!” Galand cries out with tears streaming down his face. The sheer visuals of the food brings out emotions he long thought suppressed, both due to his knowing he’ll get to eat it, but also because he knows once he does...this view will vanish. After collecting his life, the swordsman wipes his eyes with his right forearm before clasping his hands together in praise.

“O Great Buddha. Just this once, forgive me. I know it must be a sin to partake in such holy meals--I am not worthy. But I ask forgiveness! The food placed before my eyes… I cannot ignore it! THANK YOU FOR THE MEAL!” The old man places his hands on his hips and hardily laughs, feeling great that he received the exact reaction he was looking for, and even before the customer tasted the food! As for the older lady, she places a hand on the side of her face and giggles out in an embarrassed blush. “Oh dear me. Hush now, child! Eat! Enjoy your meal before it gets cold! Fufufu!” Accepting her gracious offer to begin, Galand reaches down and grabs his fork once more, prepared to start. That is, until he feels someone else stepping into the shop. This causes him to pause for a few moment before looking over his shoulder, and trailing this new person as she enters and has a seat a couple of spots over from him. As she moved, it was as if time slowed. He could tell almost immediately.

“This woman…” he speaks, ending the rest in his head “...is special.”

While watching her ever so carefully, Galand turns his head back forward just enough so he can still see her from his peripheral. So seems to be...injured? Maybe? Or is it just fatigue? Whatever the case, he’s no doctor, and can’t make heads or tails of it. But, one thing he can do, is show some courtesy! If she is injured, or tired from travel, the least he can do is look out for a fellow traveler. The older couple make their way over to the younger lady, showing her the same customer service they had for Galand. “Hello, hello! Welcome to the Dango Soupery! How may we be of service for you today, lass?” the old man asks joyously, clearly enjoying his job. The older lady holds out a menu for this new customer, giving her ample time to make her decisions should she need it. But before words can be exchanged, Galand pops in, spanking his hand against the bar a couple of times. “Oi, Jiji! Whatever she decides to get, I’ll cover it. So don’t worry about the money.” he says before glancing over to the woman to see if she’d react or thank him. An attempt at gauging her character.

Yet, while all of this goes on, slowly down the mountain does a large group descend. For now, they’re fairly far away, but soon, they’d be upon the small shop. ]

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Words in Post: 764 || Uncashed Words: --- || Uncashed EXP: --- || Cashed EXP: --- || Rank: ---

IC Notes: ---
Credit: Format base by Fauna Lestrade.

Misujage

 

[Misujage]

"reмeмвer тнaт a ѕword нeld вy ѕoмeone wнo ιѕ aвoυт тo dιe… wιll never вe aвle тo proтecт anyтнιng."

Annoying, she could feel eyes on her. Normally it would not have bothered if someone looked. What with all of this pain, it heightened everything else. Feeling something upon her, only made the pain more real. She still would not look, keeping to herself. Her shoulders rolled forward a bit, letting strands of lavender cascade over them and block out her eyes. Guards so that she could only look directly ahead of her. This Woman ... She half expected an insult, was that so odd. She had received a plethora of them lately. But now was not the time for her past woes, she could barely reflect on them. She was so hungry, tired. Were emotions like this stricken across her face. A fluster of embarrassment hit her face as she was addressed. Red passion across her cheekline, she looked up to the older woman in dismay. Eyes flickering to her male counterpart. She bowed her head a bit. "I apologize, I forgot my greetings when I entered your establishment." Her head slowly coming back upward, muscles tense. The abrupt movement took her mind off of the pain, but it was back again in full force.

She tightened her jaw once more, extending her hands for the menu and grasping it with both hands. She sat it down upon the counter and simply stared at it. She had some money, it wasn't much, far less than she remembered having when she was with Johnny. Maybe they mugged her when she turned around. Well, they were probably the bad guys anyhow. Did they have to hit her like this? Stop, jumping to conclusions, she had no idea what happened. It was best not to blame Johnny in her head, the man had been nothing but kind to her. The sound startled her, before she could clear her thoughts. A hard slam against the bar top. It drew her attention to it, confused as she looked to the man whom seemed to be enjoying his meal for the most part. An offering to pay for her. Her upbringing kind of drew her back, as if she needed help for strangers in paying for things. Her confusion mixed with anger, flushed with embarrassment. The hand that grasped her wallet felt only a single bill. Stow your arrogance, be grateful, you were no longer with your family. "Thank you, Sir." A slight bow from her head, right hand extended over her chest. Pain. Flew through her upper body, it was sort of comforting. Like a heart beat, always by her side. Her jaw tightened again, but other than that, there were no visible signs of pain aside from the tremors. She didn't look in pain from her face, she did her best to hold that together.

She looked to him for a bit longer, hands replaced upon her lap. She didn't know what to make of him, no one had reacted like this toward her in all this time. So many men, so many differences. None of them the same. "A small chicken broth, and a hot water with lemon." She would speak to the couple, bringing her amethyst eyes to gaze upon them once more. Her posture a portrait of perfection. She would speak just one more thing tot hem after completing her order. "Please." Sincerity. It trailed off of her lips like a waterfall. Or maybe her voice was pathetic, certainly she hoped it was just sincere. She wouldn't waste the man's money on meat, that could be costly for him. What if he expected something in return, if all else fell through she thought it best to order something she could pay back. She didn't have the experience or want to give up that kind of payment.

"a caѕтle тнaт vanιѕнeѕ aт тнe ғιrѕт gυѕт oғ wιnd ιѕ worтнleѕѕ. a ѕĸyѕcraper wιтнιn yoυr мιnd wιll never ғall down."

North Lotus

 

[North Lotus]

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ { J U D G E } ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤
Galan Drace || Swordsman x Gladiator || Pirate || Fruit [---] || 20,000
Str: 5 || End: 5 || Spd: 5 || Acc: 5 || Int: 5 || Spi: 0
╔════════════════════════════════════════════╗

[ How nice. So without a doubt, despite what her inner thoughts may be saying, at the very least this woman has the decency to thank people. That’s a major plus. Galand smirks at this while holding up noodles above his head with chopsticks, letting them fall into his mouth bit by bit. In the middle of chewing down the descending noodles he looks over to this woman from his peripheral. “Nwo pwowem, sis.” he say in reply, not wanting to leave her hanging. While the exchanges of chef and customer goes on, Galand listens in on what it is this lady decides to order, and is fairly caught off guard by how...minuscule it is. Is it that she doesn’t want to impose on his wallet too much? Either way, the man doesn’t make the effort to overextend and insist her into an uncomfortable position, she he stays in his place in that regard. Once everything is process on the owner’s end, he and his partner turn away to look at each other worriedly.

The sharp eyes of the wanderer catches wind of their reactions, and puts two and two together. Thinking to himself, he lifts both hands. He holds his left hand flat out in the air palm up, and balls the right one up before dropping atop the left as if he came up with a wonderful idea. So maybe she doesn’t want to order anything big. Fine. That’s okay. Then, he’d just share his own meal! “Hmm. Yeah, that should do.” Grabbing hold of one of his dango shish kabobs, he bites down on one of the steamed sweets before casually sliding his meal over a seat closer to the woman, and holds it towards her. “Wanna bite, sis? The name might be weird, but it’s really good.” he says, resting his head on his free hand as he waits for her answer. The couple listens in on this with their backs turned, smiling giddily at this turn of events. The older woman, preparing the broth, giggles.

“How wonderful. The boldness of youth! Reminds me of the good old days, fufufu. You were pretty bold yourself, dear.” she says while simultaneously teasing her husband. The man blushes and lowers his head a bit while readying the spices and herbs for the simple soup. “Th-That’s… Heh… I suppose so. But you know, now I’m feeling fired up! Let’s whip the poor lass up a meal to raise her spirits! Full throttle!” he says out loud, probably a bit too loud, but hey who can blame him for loving his work. Galand hears this and gives a hearty smile towards the woman next to him until loud footsteps can be heard pattering outside the shop until a young boy bursts through the door. He bends over in exhaustion with hands on knees trying to gasp for air. This draws Galand and the owner’s attention collectively, with Galand only looking over from his peripheral. The owner walks over towards the counter with a small towel in hand, cleaning his fingers off one by one.

“By the gods, boy! What is wrong? Why the rush?” he asks in concern. The boy looks up with a bruised eye, fashioning a small slide of blood along the side of his face. His eyes water as if he wants to let the fountain flow but frowns and bravely holds it in. “You gotta run, gramps! Those guys, they’re coming! Even though...they just...they’re attacking everyone! It’s so unfair!” he yells out in a bunch of fragmented sentences and phrases. He stumbles forward a bit until he is standing a few feet away from Guin and Galand. As he shakes his head to clear the dizziness, he notices the sword sheathed on the male customer’s back and suddenly his eyes light up. “Ohhh! Mister, are you a swordsman! Are you strong?! You can-” but before he can finish his statement, the older woman stomps her foot and stares at the boy sternly before exhaling and gently placing Guinevere’s meal before her. And Guin may notice a lot more than what she initially ordered.

“Child. I understand your desperation, and we will talk about it. But please, dear, do not drag our customers into this mess!” The owner backs up a bit and pulls out a stool to take a seat while holding his forehead with one of his hands. Though concealed from the two, his face is full of nothing but anguish. The wife walks over to him so that she can place a hand onto his shoulder in some form of comfort, knowing it may very well do no good. As for the boy, his fists clench at being scolded while he fights even harder now to wane off the tears. “I...I know! B-But if nothing is done, we’ll all just be killed! If we could fight, we could stop them before they even get here! Are we just gonna have to sit here and take it again?!” he exclaims.

Galand only listens on, not wanting to get involved for now. Not until he gets more information. But if this story is going to go on as he feels it’s going to, he’ll get himself involved to shut down whoever is causing these peaceful people grief. ]

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Words in Post: 872 || Uncashed Words: --- || Uncashed EXP: --- || Cashed EXP: --- || Rank: ---

IC Notes: ---
Credit: Format base by Fauna Lestrade.

Misujage

 

[Misujage]

"reмeмвer тнaт a ѕword нeld вy ѕoмeone wнo ιѕ aвoυт тo dιe… wιll never вe aвle тo proтecт anyтнιng."

He was an odd sort, she couldn't say she met anyone like him. Speaking with his mouth full of food, no overflowing from pasta. Maybe if she were a different person, a more relaxed person she would have smiled at it. She would have understood what the man meant through his gurgled words. However, she was not this other kind of person. Being just herself, she could only imagine he said something along the lines of you're welcome. After her order, if she was the kind to stare. To impose on others she would have noticed the looks the two owners exchanged. Sadly, she was simply staring at the point on the counter with her menu upon it. Back straight. She wouldn't slouch, she was focusing on the pain that lingered with her. It eased her mind to keep it in check, it eased her bones to not be caught off guard. Maybe she was just malnourished, she couldn't really drink sea water. However, what could have happened in such a short amount of time to make her feel this way. Or had it been a short amount of time at all.

Speaking would draw her attention, viewing the kind traveler who had offered to pay for her meal. Yes, he did offer to do that, and she didn't bother to introduce herself. What a poor girl, she lacked so many manners. Kind of disgusted with herself, but that would have to be put off. She was more interested in what eureka moment he had come to. She stared at the meal she was offered, with the way she felt she wouldn't have cared that he had eaten some of it first. That disgusted her as well, but this didn't read on her face. Her face remained surprisingly calm, to keep her screaming muscles in check. Her right hand raised, a palm pressed forward. She shook her head slowly, shuffling lavender bangs from her face. No, that was a bit too far outside of her comfort zone. It was all she had, she couldn't possibly give that up. "You've been kind enough, I really couldn't impose more than I already have. Thank you." Was that rude, to turn down someone wanting to help you. Why didn't she think of this when Zacharie spoke to her of her injuries. No, Guinevere, keep to yourself. Not only him, but those whom worked in the establishment, so prepared to be her heroes. Rescue. Saving. She had left home to avoid this, ever the burdened Celestial Dragon. Be still of that you beautiful people. Your beauty can sting those whom are not.

She was going to decline before the door behind her burst open. She spun her head swiftly to see a bit of the small boy. Her veins surged, distracted from the pain. Her eyes shuffled a bit until she got her bearings. A hand on the counter to steady herself. She would watch the boy. She had heard the first words from the boys mouth and placed a foot upon the ground. Her boot was heavy, and it seared the soles of her feet. Still, she had managed to pull herself into an upright position. Still sitting. They're attacking everyone. Her blood boiled, but she was in too much pain to be bothered by a little heat. Surely, her eyes sharpened, she wasn't aware that they had. A darkness loomed behind them, not simple anger. She was enraged, it was probably fueled by the pain she felt. Just adding insult to injury. The child was so full of hope and life, that someone else could snuff it out irked her. Then, she remembered Aeleus, and the promise she had made to Enoch. To grow stronger, to be someone worthy of protecting him. She had to protect others. "But, I didn't or-" She went silent, letting the woman chastise the child. She normally didn't eat like this, but she placed both hands on the sides of the large bowl. Bypassing its ingredients, she took in the broth. Bowl pressed to her lips, she drank it down slowly. The smallest trickle seeping from the right side of her mouth. Eyes closed, and her body being illuminated by a different kind of warmth. Comfort, she was being embraced by the first meal she had in centuries. At the very least that was what it felt like. She would rest the bowl, meat and ramen still present within it. She would pluck up a bit of beef and bite into it. Regret stricken on her face, because she couldn't pay this back but right now she needed it. She would do everything she could to pay them back later.

"Ma'am." She rose from the stool, and bowed forward over the counter to the side of the prepared meal. She couldn't have this, the despair that cloaked this town in despair. It was crippling her, as someone who used to hunt Pirates. This could just be another hunt, or it could be her death. "I don't know of how much use I'll be in my current state, but I'll fight for you." She didn't look to Galand, because she would not beg for his assistance. She would not judge him for not involving himself in something that was not his issue. This was not Guinevere's issue either, but she felt connected to this land of unruly vagabonds. Her family sat so high on the seat of the World Government, but they were glamorized puppets who only saw the reach of their money. Who was it that fought for the people if not her. Who would fight for Aeleus if not her. To grow Stronger. To be Better. She would lift heavy feet, a phrase which meant it took more effort to move them than normal, towards the door the young boy had burst into. She would fight them all herself if she had to. Pampered Princess, were you not the arrogant Heroine.

"a caѕтle тнaт vanιѕнeѕ aт тнe ғιrѕт gυѕт oғ wιnd ιѕ worтнleѕѕ. a ѕĸyѕcraper wιтнιn yoυr мιnd wιll never ғall down."

North Lotus

 

[North Lotus]

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ { J U D G E } ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤
Galan Drace || Swordsman x Gladiator || Pirate || Fruit [---] || 20,000
Str: 5 || End: 5 || Spd: 5 || Acc: 5 || Int: 5 || Spi: 0
╔════════════════════════════════════════════╗

[ How lovely it was to see the woman reject the offer for food. Though it isn’t like it means much in the grand scheme of things, Galand can’t help but feel a tinge of embarrassment from her decline which causes him to chuckle a bit. As the exchange goes on between the boy and the owners continues, the swordsman spins the dango kabob between in fingers a bit before slipping it back into the noodles and broth of his meal. Quietly he turns back forward to face him meal, ever careful to not disturb the chain of dialogue going on. All he can do is listen. Listen, and imagine what kind of fiends could possibly be messing with these people, but then it clicks. It’s BECAUSE this people are so wickedly nice that they’re probably incapable of taking care of themselves when faced with danger and violence. His head lowers a bit while his right hand slides over to grab hold of his chopsticks once again. More and more he eats on his noodles, listening to the boy’s concerns before he himself is addressed.

Not bothering to turn himself all the way around, Galand only turns his head slightly to at least let the kid know he has his attention, but before the child can further beg for his help, the older lady shuts him down. “They don’t have any kind of protection here…?” he questions possibly just loud enough for only himself and Guinevere to hear. More noodles slide into his mouth. Then finally something new happens. Something, quite honestly unexpected. The woman next to Galand stands herself up and, through her words, offers to assist. But it’s a specific portion of her words that catches the man’s attention. “Your ‘current’ state, huh…” he wonders, using that to connect the dots between the woman’s previous actions up to this point. “So there IS something wrong with her.” he thinks to himself. The boy’s eyes light up as he register’s Guin’s words. The very act of her offering to assist them in their most trying to times once more fills his heart with hope.

His hands clench and he bends his knees in excitement with a huge smile on his face. “Really, ma’am?! You’d really help us?! I can’t believe it! No one has offered to help us out before, a-and you don’t even know what you’re up against...but…” The more he thinks about it, the less and less enthusiastic he becomes. The thought of this lone woman heading in to fight this large a group of terrible men shakes his faith to the core. It’s not so much him disbelieving in a woman’s fighting prowess, but the act of her going along against such terrible odds. He’s seen what they can do, and frankly, he’s terrified to ask her something so desperate. After sucking his teeth, the wild haired man grabs hold of his bowl and holds it up to his face, scarfing down anything left in it; noodles, toppings, broth, and all. Once it’s all gone, he places it down gently and connects his hands in prayer once again. With closed eyes, he sits up straight and calls out in a leveled tone,

“THANK YOU FOR THE MEAL!”

The old man slides his hand down from his face and forces a smile, but anyone could tell he’s in distress with the worried eyebrows and sweat streaming down his face, despite the forced happiness. His wife can only clasp her hands together and look down in worry now, not knowing what to do. She should, by all accounts, stop the girl from going. But she also realizes her people NEED the help. She ponders long and hard with the few seconds she allows herself to hesitate before breaking the silence. “N-No! Absolutely not, young lady! I can’t have you going out there along to fight those...DEMONS! I understand you want to help, but it’s just not something one can handle! So many have tried before you, and all of them have been…” With tears in her eyes, the old woman falls to her knees with her hands covering her face. The shop owner drops down next to her to wrap his arms around, and comfort the distressed lady.

This makes Galand frown from anger. Right when he goes to open his mouth, a scream is heard outside followed by the sound of torn flesh. A sword slash? No, it sounds a bit more brutish… The pained sound causes Galand to look completely over his shoulder now towards the door. This is not going to end well at this rate. One step, two steps, and a third. More steps proceeds outside the establishment before the shadowed visual of a man backing up against the door with a thud follows. “No w-wait! Please! I’ll pay! I’ll pay! J-Just give me more time! I BEG OF Y-” Slam. The door of the soupery goes flying open as the body of the pleading man launches through, all the way into the kitchen where his head falls into the pot of boiling broths. His unimaginably painful screams echo from beneath the pot as he fights his hardest to take it over before the pain becomes too much, his cringing fingers cease, and so does his body. Sitting atop a stove with smoke and steam filtering off of his now lifeless body.

Upon his chest is a grievous blade wound, and it’s fairly easy to make out which of his limbs are broken. The old man and woman yell out in both surprise and fear, not knowing what would become of them now. “Charles! Wh-What have they done…?!” the owner questions after removing the pot, revealing the ruined head of a fellow shop owner only next door to his own. “Man oh man. All I wanted to do was collect what’s mine, and can you believe it, this guy goes runnin’ out the shop and to this spot! What a douche, ya know?!” a voice calls out as the figure of a man steps through the smoke and dust of the debris. A fairly average sized man holding a massive axe over his shoulder steps in with an annoyed smirk wiped on his face. He looks around for a few seconds before lifting his head and sniffing the air. “Uooh… I always love the smell of this place. Boys, come in. Take a seat. Relax. Eat! I’m gonna collect my due…” he says walking towards the counter with his men brazenly walking in behind all, all arrogantly chuckling with smug expressions. Annoying.

The couple takes steps back before the woman struggles to break free from her husband’s grip. “E-Enough! Stay back! We just paid you yesterday! How could we possibly have enough money to pay your taxes in only a day?!” The child runs to hide behind Guinevere, shaking hard from fear. Galand on the other hand, has had enough. He turns his head back forward after getting a good look at the guy and sighs. “Oi. Jiji. These the guys causing your grief?” he says, looking to the old man who is attempting to simmer his wife down. The old man stares into Galand’s eyes, realizing the depths of his coming response. “Y-Yes…” Without any further delay, the swordsman raises his right hand and grabs hold of his katana’s hilt.

“Ooookay.” ]

╚════════════════════════════════════════════╝
Words in Post: 1,229 || Uncashed Words: --- || Uncashed EXP: --- || Cashed EXP: --- || Rank: ---

IC Notes: ---
Credit: Format base by Fauna Lestrade.

Misujage

 

[Misujage]

"reмeмвer тнaт a ѕword нeld вy ѕoмeone wнo ιѕ aвoυт тo dιe… wιll never вe aвle тo proтecт anyтнιng."

His words tickled her ears, but she didn't bother to respond. Protection. She would be their protection right, she had resolved to grow stronger. She remembered that, and strong people fought through the pain. She paused as the boy spoke, there were traces of disbelief lingering there. It should have stung, but her body hurt much more. The insults from the men she had met since inhabiting the blues hurt far more. It was not odd for those whom did not know her to not believe in her. This did not disparage the young woman with hair kissed by lilacs. A portion of her was glad, at the chance to prove them wrong. Morbid her thoughts, things she should not say to a child. If she was not a match for what she went up against, the things she did not know, then she would die. Stead fast here, she could settle with that. Her death was a figment of her imagination, only brought to fruition through her dreams. Still, everyone was braved until they were faced with adversity. The Courage she had now to stomp out her fear, was only because the danger of her opponents was not yet real. Could she hold herself to par against the end of her life.

"I'm going to do my best, that's all I can promise." She would speak back to the boy. Slender lips were all that was seen beneath that thicket of flowing grace she called a mane. Even her lips were the color of indigo, softened and pale. Beautiful like snow. Glimmers of amethyst pierced the veil of her bangs, and she seemed passionate. Steadying herself for the battle to come. Ever certain now, ever so uncertain of what was to come. Other than animals, Guinevere had never taken a life. Could she combat a murderer and be unwilling to take their life. She looked back forward as the kind stranger said his thanks. And again, a warning, doubt that would strike her sterling armor. The resolution she had already made to be stronger at all costs. It didn't have positions for doubt. Slowly, she could feel the tightness of her muscles loosen. Still painful, but less bulky. The broth had returned some small bit of nutrition to her, not enough to make a difference in her state. However, when the sun was rising you did not blame it for not yet bringing the dawn. You simply awaited the cascading golds across the Ocean's surface. And gaze at its beauty, wait in anticipation for the first strike of life. "Even if I do not go to them, they will come to you. They will come for me, and I am in no position to escape. If I would fight them later, I would prefer sooner, and spare as many lives as I possibly can." Noble, wasn't it, her words were as beautiful as she was. If she was beautiful, she wasn't quite so sure after meeting Zacharie.

Her valiant speech cut off as she made her way to the door, only barely quick enough to evade it. She slid to her right, letting the body come barreling beyond her. What monstrosity was strong enough to send a man careening like that. Vein pulse. She released a gasp of air as the man echoed his screams. She remained still, she could feel it now. That unshakable resolve being pierced. No, was that just pain. No, was this fear? She monitored the immense man, legs clouded by dust. She was frozen to the spot, a cascade of hair blocked the terror in her eyes. The tension of her lips. She was frustrated, she wanted to move, she was begging to move. But her body wouldn't make a motion. She simply remained quiet as the arrogant man ushered his way in. His pack of associates coming behind him. They looked upon her, like she was a steak. Meat to be devoured and then tossed aside before their next meal. A hand grasped her chin, a disgusting brew of liquor and blood lingered on him. Like a Grave yard, the man smelled of death and debauchery. She would never allow a man to touch her, but here in the midst of threat she could find herself doing nothing. "Don't."

"What!" He spoke in a manner as if she had offended him. His hand grasped her face in its entirety, tilting her head back to reprimand her. Her hands tingled, but she made no action to remove him. Again, a thing she had never encountered. A man who was not willing to respect her wishes, who would harm her for her upbringing. *Touch* A child's small hands on her leg, and then she remembered it all in a moment. Why she had done this, the ability granted to those who were strong. Her Father, Leodegrance, had told her so many times. His death was the worst part of her life, but he had made one thing clear. Something that his family never cherished. The power of the Strong was but a single thing, to protect the weak.

"I said don't."

'Oi. Jiji. These the guys causing your grief?'

The man dropped, how no one but the child probably would have seen. Guinevere, staring down the length of the bandits. The fallen man's saber within her grasp. She could move fine now, in fact even the pain was gone. Adrenaline you know, she wasn't sure how long this state would last but she would use it while she could.

"Alright then." 'Ooookay.'

She muttered, her feet shoulder width apart, and both hands rested on the curved edge of the saber's hilt. She hadn't taken a step due to the child behind her, and she certainly wasn't going to move and let them get near the child. Sharp breath. Fear, it was still within her at this time, but she had enough Courage to push through it. You see, Courage was a weapon of the strong. And Fear would let them survive. Survive Guinevere, and be Strong. My Beautiful Knight.

"a caѕтle тнaт vanιѕнeѕ aт тнe ғιrѕт gυѕт oғ wιnd ιѕ worтнleѕѕ. a ѕĸyѕcraper wιтнιn yoυr мιnd wιll never ғall down."

North Lotus

 

[North Lotus]

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ { J U D G E } ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤
Galan Drace || Swordsman x Gladiator || Pirate || Fruit [---] || 20,000
Str: 5 || End: 5 || Spd: 5 || Acc: 5 || Int: 5 || Spi: 0
╔════════════════════════════════════════════╗

[ Why is it that the worst type of men have to harm the sweetest of people. Why do the most pure of people have to suffer the most. People like Galand who has so much blood on his hands, who has sinned to an irredeemable level, should be the ones that have to take the fall. These thoughts surge through the swordsman’s mind as veins pulse on his forehead from how hard he’d frowning. His eyes glare at the man with the axe, staring him right in the eyes. “I just wanted to take a good ol’ food break, enjoy the company of these nice folks. Instead, I gotta deal with jerks. It just never stops.” he says, stepping closer and closer. The man with the axe stands wide eyed, blinking a couple of times at the shaggy haired man before looking side to side at his men before turning back forward and bursting out into uncontrollable laughter.

“Bahaha! What?! Who is this little man! Saying whatever he wants?! You guys hear this pipsqueak?! Oh man, hahaha! I nearly bust a gut! Cause, you know, if I didn’t know any better… I’d say this little punk was trying to act TOUGH!” he finish with a sudden horizontal swing of his axe right for the man’s head. Reacting quickly, he drops low with spread legs, just barely missing being bisected. Not wasting any time in his follow up, Galand plants his free left hand on the ground and kicks the side of the large brutish man’s calves with his right foot, sending the massive axe-man falling to his side. With a thud he lands in complete disarray. He never expected this so called pipsqueak to send him tumbling down like a tree. “BOOOOSS! You damned SCUM! You’re dead!” One of the punks yells out as he and three other of his compatriots dash towards the swordsman with their knives and sabers drawn.

They each try and attempt to slash or stab but Galand is able to parry or evade most of the blows, only taking a few minor nicks or cuts here and there. “These guys…!” he says before swings at one man, forcing him to leap back, and leaping backwards, planting his free hand on the boards again, before pushing himself into the air for a three spin backwards somersault. Ultimately he lands on the counter and throws his gaze over to the woman and child over yonder, closer to the door, and obviously more surrounded than he. “Hey, Sis! Careful, these guys aren’t pushovers!” he calls out, genuinely worried now. The woman already seemed weakened, and with her surrounded by all of these men, at least six or so on her end, she’d be overwhelmed heavily. “Damn, I can’t leave them over there alone. But…” He says, frowning with a smile as the apparent leader or boss of these meatheads stands himself back up. And as he does so, he gives off a pretty frightening aura. His killing intent is the real deal, that’s for sure.

The shop owner looks at Guinevere’s desperate situation, and realizes that Galand’s is almost no better, so with a troubled heart he closes his eyes and calls out painfully, “RUN AWAY! I knew it, but they are just too much for you two alone! Please, I BEG of you! Don’t lose your young lives over us!” These words serve to drive a stake right into the swordsman’s pride. Even though the situation at hand is indeed critical, it’s far from impossible. Sweat slowly runs down the side of his face while the small wounds he received drizzle drop of blood after drop. He’d need more bandages now. “Hey now. Even after we both went and got the drive to do this…” he starts, having the shop owner look over to Guin’s area as well, noticing one of the thugs dropped already. “...you gonna go and tell us to run? Not a chance in hell! Though...even if we did wanna run, I don’t think these guys are gonna just let us casually go.” he finishes, remarking to the absolute fury of the leader.

He has veins pulsing all over his face, and his grip on his axe sends bloods trickling down his palm. “YOU LITTLE SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITS! YOU KNOCK ME DOWN, AND YOUR WHORE KILLED MY GUY! YOU’RE BOTH FINISHED. DEAD.” So he declares as he raises his axe well above his head and swings down in hopes of completely wrecking the place. With his kind of power, he could probably do it too! Galand dashes forward and goes into a fit of high speed spins before dragging his katana across the air and clashing with the ogre of a man’s axe. The resulting collision blows out the windows and knocks over any loose items. “Ahhh!” screams out the young boy as he tightly grips onto Guin’s clothing even more than before. Metal shakes and struggles to win dominance as the two weapon user’s go at it. Galand’s leg’s shake and nearly buckle from the pressure of the opposing man’s force, but he holds on for dear life.

“Oi oi oi! What’s your deal?! Why’re you taking this so seriously?! Give me...a break!” he pleads half joking and half not before swing his katana further to the side, opting to parry the man’s attack instead of countering it full on, since, that clearly isn’t working. The moment the monster’s axe hits the floor board a shockwave fires off the just barely misses Guin and the boy, as if they were his target to begin with. “Hey now. You gotta be...kidding me...haha…” he says in out of breath disbelief. The man growls in rage from being thrown aside, but using his opponent’s surprise to his advantage, he brings the back of his free hand right into Galand’s entire midsection, as his hand is sadly large enough to do so. This sends the swordsman flying off to the side with blood escaping his mouth as his body crashes through the wall opposite his ally in this battle. The owner grabs his own head with both hands and falls to his knees, tears creeping into his eyes.

“BOOOOY! NO! I told you it was impossible! Please, no more! We’ll pay you! Just stop attacking us!” he begs. Grovels.

As for Galand, he rests in the ruble two buildings away completely battered. A painful cough or two breaks through his mouth as the dust slowly but surely clears. “This is...bad… These aren’t just...thugs. These bastards...are trained… s**t. Kid...lady…” he speaks out in fragments while trying to retain his consciousness, but it’s a slow losing battle as his vision fades in and out. ]

╚════════════════════════════════════════════╝
Words in Post: 1,121 || Uncashed Words: --- || Uncashed EXP: --- || Cashed EXP: --- || Rank: ---

IC Notes: ---
Credit: Format base by Fauna Lestrade.

Misujage

 

[Misujage]

Listen and R.E.A.D.

"reмeмвer тнaт a ѕword нeld вy ѕoмeone wнo ιѕ aвoυт тo dιe… wιll never вe aвle тo proтecт anyтнιng."

She wish she had that charisma, the ability to talk down to an opponent. Make them as angry as she was. That the disgust they caused be repaid in kind. Envy, she could feel that but did these men. Certainly not from here. Listen, young Guinevere, to the words the man spoke. Simple, tell them of your day, tell them how they ruined it. The things they took from those who never took anything for granted. Project that feeling, let it fall from you like water. Erode the rocky surfaces of these mens hearts, turn them to mush. Then boil them alive in a fit of rage. That was how their actions made her feel, and it would be what she wanted best for them. To clearly cringe at her actions, her speech, to what she would do to them. Fear? What was that. "Stay behind me .." She would tell the sniveling boy, using her left hand to usher the boy slowly back toward the door. Eyes seemingly waiting on a signal from their boss. She would allow him to slip back to the outside. Sadly, the small child would cringe at the sight dead men. Their chest tore open, floor coated in blood and other unpleasantness. Outside he was alone, but she could be sure he was safer outside with no one than in here with her.

"Th-thank you ...." The small boy quivered, adorned like a manger boy in the cold embrace of the outside world. Guinevere looked back, and for the first time since she entered she would smile down to the boy huddled beneath the danger. Her smile, she wasn't sure what it was for. Did she do it because she was assuring the child he would be okay. Or in exchange, was she truly prepared to die. However, she was tired of the conversation, she dashed at the man himself as his rant finished. Weaving a path through his cohorts whom had focused on the gallant stranger. The cleaving of his large axe caught her off guard. Luckily she was inside of the blade, and was only caught with the handle. Tossed a bit askew, she tumbled about the floor. Each strike against the cold hard wood brought her senses to life. Adrenaline could only drown out so much, but it could empower so much more. As the man tumbled, Guinevere slid to her booted feet, capturing one man and striking him with the guard on the saber. Bloodied nose. She swept low, knocking off his balance and sending him careening toward his head. The saber she held ran along his back, down his posterior and the crotch of his pants. A trail of scarlet would flow like a stream from his back side before he landed on his head. Not dead, no, she was no murderer. But with hair as lush as clouds, stained by the river styx. One could never tell the difference. They weren't getting through this door way.

"We're fine, focus on the battle at hand!" *Strike* She hit the wall harder than she ever though she could have. Frame crumpling as she reached for a breath that never seemed to come. Keep pressing forward. The hand about her neck, what was men's fetish with a woman's neck? Before she knew, she had seen the eyes lose life. Guinevere stared, shaking and quivering at what she had done. The saber was inside of his chest cavity. She couldn't pull it out, he fell and hit the ground. Her breath short, heavy, staggering. Her nose bloodied. Vision, no that was still good for now. She had grown accustomed to pain right even if she had no weapon. Push. My beautiful Guinevere, keep pushing, you are nearly there.

"Save your breath for laughs, I won't leave you. No matter what you say ..." She proclaimed before the brute had managed his way back to his feet. Yelling about a death, she gripped he sides as the men closed in on her again. She reared her head back onto the wall, and remained still for a bit. These men, strong clearly, but not classically trained in armed combat. Still training of someone as frail as her only went so far in life. She would need something to get the two men off of her. Funny how things worked out.

"GET OFFA HER!!" The young child shouted, a stool being cracked over the back of one of the two. No damage done, even though the chair broke. Possibly just a cheap chair. They turned to face the boy, simultaneously Guinevere went to retrieve the saber from the corpse beneath her. Yes, this was a vision of hell. Blood, there was so much blood, but she could not think of that now. She had to think of other things, happier things, better things. Things to protect. Before everything was blue. "Urgh!" Her legs caught the wall and she thrust forward at the two men whom had struck the little boy. His face swollen and bloodied from just the single strike. Guinevere's body went horizontal, spiraling as the men caught her attention. Her equipped saber would cut clean across one man's eyes, legs catching the other with her spin and flipping him onto his back. Stab, the saber planted into his arm severing the limb from his body. She heaved, staring to the boy whom was breathing but injured. Crying. That was it. This was her extent.

*thump*

She hit another wall and felt a collection of concussive blows laying into her. She cradled herself to protect her frame, but she had gotten in over her head. Through the black cloaks and battered hands she could see the boy running away through the door once more. Please, just make it awy- And like that, her heart broke. An axe, tore through the small child. Completely in two, a clean vertical strike as he tried to escape. In front of her eyes, someone she vowed to protect was gone. Her body was numb, but her heart had suffered more pain than she had ever thought possible. What had she done, she should have just helped pay them. Her form of justice. "Somebody ..." She spoke in her heart, for her own voice was lost to her even as the beatings stopped and the axe wielding man hoisted her up to be examined. "please ..." She stared at the man, and he himself had to be a picture of the Grim Reaper. She was quivering again, so burdened by sorrow and depression. How did one find courage in this hopelessness. Was Courage not enough, was facing your bullies some farce her father had dreamed up. Or was it true, that out of all things Guinevere was truly weak. However, the offer did reach the brute's ears, to be paid. He considered himself a businessman after all. He would drop Guinevere and let her lie half dead against the wall of the shop. Covered in blood, drenched in her own tears.

He would walk away from her to the old couple, accepting the money from the old man's hand, crushing it under the force of his own. The old man's cries reached her, she grimaced. Ready to be angry, ready to fight. She couldn't move, why could she not moved. Tears everywhere, cries were heavy. As he stepped from the shop, and pulled his axe from the corpse of the young child. A hand graced her chin, a thug who cared so little for his comrades. This monstrosity.

"You look better covered in blood." Pressed. Lips. Touched. Warmth. Was it odd, her first kiss, some thug in a one horse town. Everything was ruined. My sweetest Guinevere, what ever have you done to deserve this. Ten hail Mary's for your sins.

"a caѕтle тнaт vanιѕнeѕ aт тнe ғιrѕт gυѕт oғ wιnd ιѕ worтнleѕѕ. a ѕĸyѕcraper wιтнιn yoυr мιnd wιll never ғall down."

North Lotus

 

[North Lotus]

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ { J U D G E } ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤
Galan Drace || Swordsman x Gladiator || Pirate || Fruit [---] || 20,000
Str: 5 || End: 5 || Spd: 5 || Acc: 5 || Int: 5 || Spi: 0
╔════════════════════════════════════════════╗

[ This...was not supposed to happen. This madness simply should not have come to pass. Like every other time until now, Galand should have been able to handle these men, and triumphantly, casually, savor in his victory. His oppressive defeat over the opposition that stood before him. In times long gone, he would have been able to handle these men alone, faintly breaking a sweat. But here we have the exact opposite. No savoring, no heroics, no victory. In this place, today, Galand Drace of Wano...suffered defeat. Just like those years ago against the Marines, he was left with no quarter. Those he arrogantly rose to protect, fell, and in more cases than one, lost something they can never have back. He can only listen on as the clashing presses onward. The old couple screaming at the top of their aged lungs, begging and pleading, crying for mercy. Not for themselves, but for those being brutally maimed by the forces that so suddenly breached into their momentary solace.

With each blow to the woman’s body, his senses jump start. With each scream and yelp, his body twitches. It was as if the two shared the same fate. Slowly but surely he makes his way to stand, forcing his wobbling arms to move where they hold no strength. Then it dawns on him. Blood slides down his forehead, washing atop his left eye. A blow to the head is the cause for his most dire issues. Just how hard was he hit for him to take this kind of damage? “Wait…” he demands, a sad attempt at alerting the struggling woman of his impending approach. It’s slow, but he can do it. He can save her! Foolish thinking, through and through. The moment Galand manages to sit himself up, he coughs up more than enough blood for it to be direly concerning. He removes his hand from his mouth, watching the warm red drip down upon his attire. The visual only serves to remind him of his past further. How could he be so foolish? How could he let this happen AGAIN?!

His anger boiling once more, he fights through the damage to sit himself up enough to fall to his hands and knees. “...I’m...coming!” he shouts with a stressed throat. One step at a time he manages to use the ruble set about himself to stand up in a limp. His sword sits lodged without a rock, which he manages to wiggle out with a few painful shakes of his right arm. Weapon in hand, finally, he limps his way to the clearing in which he was thrown, using walls to stay upright as he travels back through the buildings he was launched into. Desperately, he makes his way back to the clearing. The sole clearing that matters. The opening to the soupery, where he’d see one of two things. A miracle, or something akin to a disaster. Unfortunately, there would be no miracle this day. Galand’s only good eye, his right, widens in shock as he sees the results of his negligence. His pride shatters and crumbles like dust to the wind. His eyes first rests on the man pulling his axe out from the corpse of the young boy.

The child who so heroically ran his heart out to warn them. To tell them to flee. He tried to give them the time they needed to escape! But arrogance took over. And now, before even given the chance to experience life. To travel and see the world. To meet new people and embrace the meaning of life. To find love… Everything in its entirety was robbed from him. And now he won’t even be able to hear the broken swordsman’s pointless apologies. Again, his anger expands. With that story concluded, all that’s left are the woman and the couple. Galand stumbles a bit while trying to move his body forward with no support, but manage it he does. “You look better covered in blood.” These words pierce his eyes like a dagger. His head turns left, then right, but he can’t find the source. He pushes himself to move forward, his heart racing faster than ever before. “No, no, no no no!” he pleads as he looks to and fro. The rubble and debris set around skews his view of the situation, until finally he sees it.

Behind a large fallen plating of ceiling, against a bloodied wall, sits Guinevere, and before her, a man. It’s not foreign to see this. A man and woman, hidden behind the concealment of alleyways or trash bins. Engaging in their animalistic uncontrolled passion. But this, this was not it. The tears flowing down the woman’s bloodied face, the bruises and injuries littered all about her body… This is nothing close to consensual. To the man nothing short of a molester, a shadow is caste over him and his prey’s body. His eyes widen, and his lips parts from his prize. His spoil of battle. “Hey, who the hell is interrup-” It took but one mistake on his part. To turn around, and give in to his curiosity. To see the face of the one that would interrupt his most fruitful moment. A katana plunges through his skull, right between his eye sockets and out the back of his head. Though some blood would trickle onto the downed woman’s form, hopefully, it would be forgiven.

Galand furiously glares down at the squirming figure of the thug as his body slowly shuts down. Limb by limb, until he ceases. His existence fades. The last fragments of his life fade away. With a heavy heart, he slings the dead body aside and kneels down next to his partner. Judging by the bodies littered about the floor, she fought hard. She did. She fought so desperately, to survive and protect, and this is the answer to her bravery. Normally not one to show these emotions, Galand presses her head close to his broken ribs so sit in silence, and after a few moments, lifts her body up princess style and moves her behind the counter with the old defeated couple. They look on in horror, but know what to do. First aid. Medical treatment. ANYTHING they can do to ease her pain until real help can be requested. He looks down at her again. “I’m sorry.” After turning away, he walks from behind the counter and heads for the outside where the distant cheers of men can be heard.

So they extort the lives of these people, murder a CHILD, and have the audacity to parade around the same locale in jubilee? “I won’t make that mistake again. I promise… This time, I’ll make them pay.” he swears to his fallen partner. Hopefully, she could hear it, but with those injuries, and what she had done to her, his voice may be the last thing on her mind. His geta clack on the dirt while he passes the bisected boy. He couldn’t. Not yet, he couldn’t bring himself to face the kid just yet. Soon, but not now. The swordsman’s legs carry him further, then faster, trailing behind the group of men planning to head back up the mountain and revel in their success. But today, nor any day to come, would they get that chance. Without a breath to take in their form properly, the literally moment the group’s forms appear before Galand’s livid eye, he dashes. Despite the pain, or loss of blood, he bolsters all of his pent up indignation, and glides past two of the men.

In confusion, the look at the red back of the sword wielding man before them, as they head slowly drop to the ground. With two of his men dropping to the ground, blood spurting about the dirt and stone path below, and lastly the figure of a man he should broken earlier standing beside him, the axe bearing leader’s face goes back into rage mode. “YOU LITTLE- HOW MANY OF MY MEN DO YOU PLAN TO KILL?!” he bellows while turning his mammoth like form to the much smaller swordsman, the ogre of a human lifts his axe above his head with both hands this time. No more games.

“Ittoryu…”

And yet, the moment his axe gets in optimal swing ready position behind his back, what many call a ‘white line’ shoots up from the ground and through the brute’s skull, stealing his right eyes in its path to the sky. Those peering out of their windows to watch the wonder stare in both terror and surprise. Someone managed...to harm the bandit leader?! This thought passes through their minds, but they dare not speak it. Not yet.

“...JICHOU.” he finishes while clicking his katana back into its sheath.

Seconds pass, and suddenly a burst of blood explodes from the straight wound going up the bandit leader’s body. It splashes directly up, as if following the trail of wind left in the wake of the slash. If only Guinevere could have seen it. The boy… Galand grabs hold of the hilt of his katana, and glares up at the man, clearly pissed off, and the leader holds his face, staring down at his adversary with the only eyes remaining to him. Both men breathe heavily, both not backing down from the stareing. This WILL end, with one of them dead. ]

╚════════════════════════════════════════════╝
Words in Post: 1,566 || Uncashed Words: --- || Uncashed EXP: --- || Cashed EXP: --- || Rank: ---

IC Notes: ---
Credit: Format base by Fauna Lestrade.

Misujage

 

[Misujage]

"reмeмвer тнaт a ѕword нeld вy ѕoмeone wнo ιѕ aвoυт тo dιe… wιll never вe aвle тo proтecт anyтнιng."

She could understand images, it was all she could do. It was so quiet. A phrase here that means nothing made any noise. Even so, movements she could feel it in her muscles. The silent thump of energy that transferred from one object to another. She knew no pain now. Only the humiliation of another man's lips. Ah, but hers were covered in blood. That had to have meant it didn't count. Still, she could taste the strong stench of rum that lingered on his tongue. His very smell was intoxicating to her. Driving her senses to a high. The tightness of her nose as the flood gates whom were trying to hold back the water would burst. Letting streams of blood trickle from her eyes. The saltiness of her tears danced idly with that of the blood. Her body shook at the blade that struck he who stole from her. Her innocence so stained by his touch. She would watch in terror, lifting her right hand to her lap. Her legs shaking like an old coaster to protect herself. At his sight, seeing is believing, she felt safe. Confined within his aura, she could only unleash more tires. Her face went to the child in the door way. Still silent, but he would be more silent still. What had she ruined in such a manner.

Arrogant, was the only thought that came to her mind. She would defend them to her end, but it was not her who ended. It would be them. Hoisted into a hold. Her left hand moved, as if to push the man way. She wasn't worth saving. Or maybe she didn't want to be touched. Whatever the matter, whatever the reason may have been. It struck the flood gates once more, and out came the river of tears. Her hair clung to her like the stars attached themselves to the night sky. Unmoving, stained by the color crimson. She could only think of the child, and she whimpered. Trying to release the words. A truth she was sure he already knew, but still she wanted to say it. "I ... I ... I co- c-c - cou-" Her voice broke as many times as her hand trembled, and that was a plethora. She fell silent, eyes closed and she ceased moving. If only for the breathing from her mouth did one know she was still alive. Saddled upon the ground before the elderly couple. They could not do much due to the heavy taxes, but what they could they did. Cleaned the floor beneath her body. Ran some fresh water after discarding the corpse of the neighboring shop keep. They used the hot water and the cleanest towels they could find to cleanse her wounds. Here, in her state of sleep she felt no pain or joy. She didn't even dream, just rested. Luckily, she had protected her face, no severe wounds were present there. She remained motionless as she was cleaned. A beauty, in a sea of rain water. What monster wanted this sleeping child so much that they would send their Dragon. That it would ravage their people, leaving the Princess destitute. Vile. My dearest Guinevere.

"a caѕтle тнaт vanιѕнeѕ aт тнe ғιrѕт gυѕт oғ wιnd ιѕ worтнleѕѕ. a ѕĸyѕcraper wιтнιn yoυr мιnd wιll never ғall down."

North Lotus

 

[wisyuu]

x

ғ ʀ ᴀ ᴄ ᴛ ɪ ᴏ ɴx❖xʟᴏɴᴇʀ xxʀ ᴏ ʟ ᴇx❖xᴍᴇʀᴄʜᴀɴᴛxxʟ ᴏ ᴄ ᴀ ᴛ ɪ ᴏ ɴx❖xɴᴏʀᴛʜ ʙʟᴜᴇ

It was a curious affair collecting trinkets. One might never know what one might encounter when coming across
the beautiful, or the strange, or even the mysterious. Such as if opening a box for the first time without regard
of what might happen from the reveal of the contents within. There was once a feline god that some humans
worshiped before the decline, one that went by many names but regardless of the title, the deity represented the
duality between paired opposites. Within it's infernal cage, as legend foretold the feline god was in a constant
state of being and yet not being, fluxing in and out between existence and nothing at all simultaneously.
There was power in such notions. To know what was within the box would be a powerful skill indeed, however,
to imagine what possibilities could fill the box was a greater power still. The same could be said for humans,
for what was flesh but a box for the soul, the glittering jewel which held one's deepest secrets, contained within?
What whispers and lies did humans, mutants, or even deathwalkers tell themselves and each other? Like bits
of string, cloth, and wrapping that decorated the ornate wares the mismatched merchant sold, Rune prided on the
trading of the breath that danced on top of waggling tongues, the breathy exultation of slaves to their masters, the
scandalous gasp of a cheeky concubine in a smoke riddled harem, the quivering sigh of a forbidden lover; information.
What was even better was what he could do with that information. The possibilities. A single word could
send a single individual's life into disarray, a hushed whisper was all that it took to hear the drip, drip, drop
of a mind going to pieces. Lesser things had brought upon the fall of dynasties, rent apart families, and
even tore worlds asunder.

It wasn't a curious at all, however, that the merchant lurked at the edge of the mountain pass. Given the trade he
dealt with, he had a mind to visit the site of a potential harvest for...raw materials. He peered through a
pair of cracked binoculars that sat upon a weathered stick, watched the shadows within the dismal fog.
War, carnage, strife. It was all the same regardless of the cultures or even the species. It was hardly new.
Mutants fought for dominance over territory. Humans were no better, only they added money, politics, and
drugs into the mix. As for pirates, well he could only summize they had their own little power struggles
here and there. Even the weapons they used, no matter how advanced or mystic still brought the same
end result. What bullets or arid scent of gunpowder he could smell in the air after guns were discharged
were no different from darts being shot from atlatls or the meaty swing of a war club dashing a skull to bits.
Mankind had come full circle from dirt groveling animals to glorious self made gods and then back to s**t
covered mammals. They all still returned to the earth, eventually. Some willing, some kicking and screaming,
some whimpering. It was a wonder how they managed to survive, by the grace of Schrodinger perhaps.

The merchant shifted his footing in the cold rock, the result of which sent a multitude of grains to slide down
the once immaculate slope. The wooden box that he carried on his back like a misshapen turtle groaned while
the trinkets within jingled with delight at the prospect of another successful scavenger hunt. How wonderful.
He had to hand it to his little birds. He hadn't come across such a bountiful array of ingredients since he
had tracked a nest of mutant dung beetles that had entrenched themselves, quite literally, onto the face
of a canyon wall. How they managed to crawl up there with their piles of s**t was a wonder but their shells proved
a fortune. Sparkling, bright, luminescent like polished malachite. Now he was staring at a new quarry.
The sounds of swords was a melody he was quite used to, especially within the more populated districts of
the outskirts. The faint breeze tickled his meticulously layered robes. His black and white locks barely budged
under the protection of his beige colored hijab. A lattice pattern had been intricately embroidered into the fabric.
Dark mist gave way to a blistering wind that threatened to blow the very souls out of the weak. A
chuckle escaped his slightly-yellowed maw. Regardless of who won that night, the spoils would be his for
the taking, even if it it all went up it flames, he was confident he would be able to salvage a few items worth note.

"Even corpses can be sold to the right people..."

One would be quite surprised at the demand for bone related articles. A pipe made from knuckle bones,
a cane made from a femur, or even a necklace made from teeth. They were all the rage among the savages
and even the more...eccentric of customers who didn't know any better when they bought his wares.
Most had assumed that they were carved from animals, like many of his other wares. They were oblivious.
That being said, where there was a will, there was a way and for the coin there was always a way. Always.

That being said, he leisurely made his way toward the hub of the town, dingy as it was and shrouded in mist.
The very air was suscharged in blood. The metallic tang hung to his tastebuds like the savory aftertaste of wine.
Claret marked the wake of a struggle that occured not long after he had arrived to the mountains. Surely
what was left behind would would warrent a search now wouldn't it? However, it seemed as if the fight had not
reached it's conclusion as he peered from his crystal lenses, feet quickening in pace toward the action. Two fighters
locked in a struggle which had yet to decide a victor. He eyed the combatants and their weapons. The glint of
steel was agreeable to his appraising eyes as well as the subtle weight that hung from the larger combatant's waist.
A prize indeed. The rouge scuttled to converge onto the main path which led to the conflict. From there, the merchant
navigated the bodies and stalls strewn from the chaos that ensued, silver eyes still on the prize. The situation at hand,
with both combatant's senses at their peak, certainly provided the opportune moment for him to intervene, however
whether he would act upon it was another question entirely. Digits fingered steel pressed against warm skin, weighing
the potential risk of the actions which were to follow surely. A decision was made and thus his body moved accordingly.

Knees bent in apprehension while a hand sought to pull the hijab at a jaunty angle so as to reveal greying hair
but conceal youthful visage. The wooden shell he carried on his back groaned as Rune shuffled, seemingly aimlessly, in
the midst of the battle between the two men. A quizzical brow rose in befuddlement while a growl rumbled from the
larger looking brute. Blood gushed from his wounds and his eyes betrayed a sense of desperation. Without hesitation,
as if sensing his end, the thug rushed at the merchant, perhaps under the speculation that at least one more
unsuspecting soul would join him into the afterlife. As the man charged with weapon raised high, nimble digits
grasped the hidden weapon beneath colorful robes and drove cold metal into the hollow of the barbarian’s
throat where the flesh was weakest. Inertia had done the job for him. It was a simple matter of incision
and retraction for the merchant. He had gutted pigs before. The action took a matter of seconds. Slip, flick wipe.
While one hand was occupied at dispatching the man, the other sought to lighten his golden burden.
It was almost mechanical how the merchant shuffled on toward the tavern while the man bled to death.
Narrowed orbs took note of the corpse which beheld the entrance and took care to avoid the splatter.
He took note of the destruction wrought to both the surroundings as well as the individuals within, still cowering.

"Yaaaaaaaaaa....." he sighed, "it looks like they did a number on this place."

Feet unceremoniously trampled upon the fallen. His eyes were swift to notice injury and softened.
The elderly before him whimpered, suspect that he was but another whom sought to inflict pain unto them.
When assuaged with gentle words their exteriors eased, if not slightly. The box which he carried
came to life as drawers opened to reveal their contents of medicinal wonders. Silver fell upon magenta
an a silent prayer went out to the unfortunate woman. Though he was no doctor, he was able
to create a simple poultice. Worst case he suspected broken limbs, if not fractures, hopefully he was wrong.

"Lay her flat while I inspect her. We'll probably need cloth," he calmly instructed the older couple.

It was on the cold, wet floor that he inspected the woman's injuries which were severe in their own right.
She would certainly require rest for several days. Bruised limbs, no fractures thankfully. Where she was cut,
he applied the poultice. The treatment was rudimentary but it would certainly keep the woman from
requiring specialized treatment. Herb stained hands sought to take a pinch of tobacco from a wooden drawer
where it was lit ablaze in an ornate pipe. The air grew heavy with smoke.

Rune glanced at the woman, whose face was streaked in tears, and rasped: "Save your tears.
The world is only going to get darker from here on out."






Misujage


North Lotus

 

[North Lotus]

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ { J U D G E } ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤
Galan Drace || Swordsman x Gladiator || Pirate || Fruit [---] || 20,000
Str: 5 || End: 5 || Spd: 5 || Acc: 5 || Int: 5 || Spi: 0
╔════════════════════════════════════════════╗

[ It was for but only a single moment. It was all he needed. Clearly the bandit leader had his fill of this town. His men lie dead, most defeated by the hands of a woman whom he could only assume had the most bare minimum of combat prowess. Then, his last two allies are beheaded right by his side, before he could do anything to stop it. What had he done to deserve this treatment? What vile acts did he commit that would warrant such primitive acts against he and his crew? Extorting a small mountain village of their ever declining income? Negligible. Cleaving an innocent fleeing boy into two halves? Nothing noteworthy there. Beating a lone woman into the wall for his own blood thirsty enjoyment? Happens all the time. So then for what unfathomable reason could exist for this shaggy haired man to stand before his large form, blade in hand, with fury practically oozing from his bloodshot glare.

“I promised them… So now, you’re finished.” he says while sheathing his blade.

His preparations are complete. The first half of the technique has already been used. This brute. This inhuman filth, he’s already been marked. With this next move, he’d certainly fall, and Guinevere’s struggling with have been proven fruitful. What she lost, would come with no small cost. “Ittoryu…!” he calls out loud for all to hear, but before he can launch his attack, the terrified ogre like man takes a few steps back, sweating heavily like a hog over flame. “N-No! Wait! I don’t wanna d-” he pauses. In his frantic babbling, he notices another. One more figure walking outside at possible the worst possible time. Someone new, and from the looks of it, someone weak. With haste, he makes for this new stranger with relentless abandon. With axe held high, and a hysterical wrath imprinted over his face, the man goes to take another victim before his doom. Galand looks over, feeling only pity for the man. Surely his fear couldn’t have driven him to this point, right? That’s when he notices. Another person off in the distance, clearly the target of this mad-like pursuit.

“Oiii! Move outta the way! Run!” he tries to call out, but it seems his voice could not reach. Much to the delight of the brute. This man, despite his situation, would take the time out of his final moments to try and feel that rush of euphoria one final time. That sweet bone chilling release of murder. Unfortunately for him, he’s almost immediately shut down with methods none could see. Bandit Leader for but a few moments more, the mentally insane monster slows his charge until he creeps to a few last disturbed steps. Red spills from his front, staining the stone path below, added with some rather disturbing body pieces following suit. Galand’s eye widens as his body stumbles a bit to-and-fro. “Insane...haha…” These words are the only things befitting his view of the situation. Though the large man was already weakened and bleeding, the new individual who managed to finish him off didn’t even bat an eye. He executed the bandit leader as if it were clockwork. As natural as breathing itself.

With nothing further to it, the swordsman can only slink his way back to the soupery where he can finally use the broken entryway as a prop to help hold himself up, since, his body cannot very well do it on its own any further than this. With what’s left of his senses, he can hear the professional words from an experienced individual. “The world is only going to get darker from here on out.” These few words holds such magnitude. Such TRUTH. If only they knew. After making way along the walls and to the counter, the shaggy haired man finds it getting harder and harder to keep himself up. His throat is going dry, and his vision blurry. It’s all he can do to just get behind the counter, with the help of the elderly woman, so that he can see Guin’s treatment. For but the few moments remaining to him anyways. His back presses firmly against the wall next to the unconscious woman before his legs give out and he slides down to land on his bottom.

His arms limply sit between his spread legs, a position he has no control over any longer. Using the last of his strength, he speaks. “...Can you...fix her…? She doesn’t...d-deserve to...die…” his words going weaker and softer before his head finally hangs forward due to unconsciousness. This experienced served to teach the ex-marine one very important thing. He is weak. Far weaker than he had ever imagined. The strength and pride he had back then is all but a memory, stripped from him before he was cast into the deep blue. For him to even think of changing things from here, but him to continue believing in his ideals for change, he’ll have no other choice but to grow in power. And whatever the cost of this should be, he’d willingly pay it.

Within his dark state, removing from the plan of the awake, deep in the crevices of his dreams, Galand hears a soft, gentle, yet morbidly inhuman sound. Almost like a cry... ]

╚════════════════════════════════════════════╝
Words in Post: 883 || Uncashed Words: --- || Uncashed EXP: --- || Cashed EXP: --- || Rank: ---

IC Notes: ---
Credit: Format base by Fauna Lestrade.

Misujage

wisyuu