Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Ya don't gotta stand up ta shoot.

Thu Nov 07, 2019 4:36 am

1A --> Fran uses HT [Fantasy in Dreams] against Sidyard.
1B --> Fran uses LT [A Bullet's Love] against Sidyard.
1C --> Fran uses UT against Sidyard.

2A --> Sidyard uses LT against Fran.
2B --> Sidyard uses LT against Fran.
2C --> Sidyard uses UT against Fran.

Thu Nov 07, 2019 4:36 am

The member 'Frenzy' has done the following action : Dice Roll

#1 'Reflex Check' : 12, 7, 19

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#2 'Reflex Check' : 19, 13, 8

Wed Nov 13, 2019 6:05 am

❝

...HOW FOOLISH.

NOT EVEN WORTH MY TIME.

PAPILLON D. FRAN

Exhaling slowly, Fran leant back into her chair. Despite the unexpectedly physical nature of her previous blow, she didn’t appear to suffer from the same daze she had inflicted upon her opponent. She turned lazily to meet the gaze of the two bystanders watching in apprehensive silence behind her and though she kept her hand firmly locked around the butler’s collar, she appeared to be dismissive enough of the immediate threat to turn her attention completely away.

As she turned her face, both Tracy and Yoon started with shock, their expressions frozen in wide-eyed awe as though they were witnessing an unprecedented abomination. Her crimson eyes appeared darker like the colour of murky blood and where there had previously been only a single ring perpetually surrounding her pupils, there was now the distinct shape of two.

Her eyes were sunken deeper into her sockets, though this could have been an effect from the dark circles from many sleepless and restless nights suddenly more pronounced lining her under eyes. They were narrowed too into the sharp, wild glare of a cornered beast and the presence of the new rings seemed to signify the awakening of a writhing darkness.

To contrast the foreboding omen in her eyes, Fran’s face was pale and gaunt, as though the skin on her cheeks were pulled tight. A set of thick, pulsing veins trembled as they laced her forehead, testimony to the restraint she displayed, but what exactly she was restraining, neither grandfather nor grandson could discern. They simply felt enraptured by the paralysing gaze of this new monster, her presence carrying far more weight and disquiet aggression than the standoffish and icy indifference they had come to expect from her.

“Tracy, get to the elevator,” she croaked, the frenzy in her eyes all the more apparent as she spoke.

Her voice was jarringly ugly to listen to, like the sound of two rough stones grinding against each other, forcing the target of her words of wake from the stupefying spell her sudden change in aura had cast upon him. He shook himself, the meagre leaves on his crown rustling and crumbling to brown as he made the motion. Green sap seeped from the knife still embedded in his arm, but he seemed to pay it no mind as he tried to meet Fran’s gaze.

“What about you?” asked the older man, failing and lowering his eyes in an almost begrudgingly complacent manner.

“I’ll catch up,” she said shortly, before jerking her head towards the end of the hallway. “Go.”

He hesitated for only a moment and still failing to hold the dangerous woman’s eyes, he swiftly scooped his grandson into his thin arms. However, before he could leave several paces, Sidyard broke from the stunned daze.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he growled, his hand dipping out of sight.

He drew another knife and poised to fling it at the tree-man, but Fran’s other hand darted forward and the blade pierced her palm. [LT] An explosive laughter rang out, bouncing from the walls in a haunting, ghastly echo. Baring her glistening white teeth, Fran pushed her palm forward until the hilt of the blade pressed against her palm and her fingers curled around Sidyard’s presently trembling hand. [UT]

“I think you have more pressing matters to concern yourself with,” she hissed, her spiralling eyes ablaze with madness. “Don’t you?”

Already, her mind had pushed to existence of her former charges out and the veins pulsing on her forehead seemed to embolden, stretching and elongating around her eyes. Her crescent moon smile bore not a single trace of the smug arrogance her previous smirks had been graced with and her expression had little room for the imagination now. It was hideous and grotesque, twisted into the form of a sadistic beast hungry for inflicting suffering.

Sidyard’s pale face was taut, his expression frozen in terror despite the uncontrollable quivering of his shoulders. Cold sweat poured from his brow, loosening the stiff wax in his hair until wisps of grey hair clung to his cheeks. With Tracy and Yoon gone, the full force of Fran’s abrupt personality change was now directed upon him and he felt as trapped as a mouse cornered by a bloodthirsty lioness.

“Ah--ugh--” he stammered, the fear invading his mind forcing him incapable of stringing his words coherently.

His hand was still gripping his knife tightly, unable to will his muscles to move even as Fran’s blood trickled down his elbow. Fran let out a sigh, one that might have resembled ecstasy, and she leant back into her chair. She was still for a moment, as though reveling in the sound of Sidyard’s frantic breathes before she wretched her hand free from the knife.

Gasping, Sidyard pulled back and leapt to his feet with his blade now clutched tightly in both hands. Crimson stained its length and Fran let her hand fall to the side of her chair, letting blood slowly pool beside her. The volume leaving her body didn’t appear to cause her distraction and her eyes were now wide as she regarded her opponent, though her lips had all at once lost the sadistic smile; she was now completely expressionless, with only the vivid frenzy in her eyes stealing attention.

“Shit--!” fumbled Sidyard.

He let out a curdling scream, before steeling himself and charging wildly. He raised his short knife as though he wielded a sword. It was a clumsy manoeuvre, clearly executed in unthinking desperation and Fran regarded him with mild disinterest as the blade sank into her shoulder. [LT] Sucking in a fearful gasp, Sidyard backed away and dropped the blade as though it had possessed him.

The sound of gunfire resounded in a deafening thunder and Sidyard reeled back, clutching his left shoulder. [A Bullet’s Love] Falling to his knees with a weak groan, the butler lowered his head, his eyes trained to the ground as though he were too afraid to meet the ruthless huntress’s gaze.

“Who are you?” he gasped, his frame trembling.

Fran didn’t reply instantly and lifted her pistol to inspect the warm barrel. Slowly and methodically, as Sidyard continued to tremble at her feet, she unclasped the magazine and swapped it for another. All the while she completed her task without rush, her opponent appeared to shrink further and further into himself; it was like a visceral part of him understood he had no means to run and so his instincts told him to hide or make himself into a smaller target.

“I’m none of your business,” she said simply, her voice just above a low growl.

She rested the barrel against the butler’s forehead and he let slip a low whimper, the last of his former bravado abandoning him without a trace of its existence.

“Wanted Dead or Alive for 8,000,000 berries,” she recited simply. “Lewis Sidyard “the Schemer”.”

She squeezed the trigger without remorse and the butler’s body jerked as a shock of electricity sizzled through his body. [Fantasy in Dreams] His white hair stood on its ends as the flashing white energy lit his body aglow and his pained screams filled the halls. As the electrically charged attack subsided, smoke snaked out from his gaping jaw and his eyes rolled to white. [Sidyard: Knockout]

“Hm…” mused Fran before keeling over with a grunt. “Ugh--!”

Dropping her pistol, where it clattered to the floor, Fran’s hands flew to her face. Her fingers weaved through her hair and her palms pressed tightly to her temples, staining her pale grey skin with a jarring splash of red. Her eyes squeezed shut as she sucked in a pained, uneven gasp.

Still taking no notice of the distressing amount of blood welling from her right palm, Fran let out a low groan before falling deathly silent. Several moments passed before she lifted her face, blinking blearily as though she had woken from a dream.

The veins adorning her crown had disappeared and there was only a trace of grey lines to indicate the former presence of the frenzy-inducing rings in her eyes. Yet even as she seemed to regain her lucidity, there was the ever-present first rings still surrounding her pupils...how much of Fran was ever truly sane?

The young hunter glanced down at the unconscious man before her, his body still charred and sizzling softly, but she could see at a glance he was still breathing. Sighing, she dipped her hand into her bag and pulled out a set of iron cuffs connected to a long chain.

Leaning forward to secure Sidyard’s wrists, she then rapped her knuckles hard against the side of his head. The defeated butler started with a jolt, his eyes rolling back to consciousness, but his gaze was unsteady as he glanced up at the huntress and upon seeing her blank scrutiny, he appeared to immediately shrink into himself again.

“Get up,” she ordered coolly.

He obeyed without a word, his eyes lowered in shame and his lips set in a hard line as though to prevent them from trembling. Despite his clumsy footwork, Fran paid him little attention and directed her chair towards the elevator.

***

Flames licked the walls and ceilings as the tree-man with his grandson curled protectively in his arms raced through the purple tapestry and unnecessarily flamboyant and exotic gold decor. Several times, Tracy was forced to slap his shoulders as a wayward twig was bound to catch alight, but he never slowed his progress through the flaming halls.

“What the hell happened here?!” the old man demanded as he swatted another ember from the brown leaves on his crown.

“We accidentally set the place on fire when we arrived,” gasped Yoon. “It must have spread down here already. Do you think that girl is gonna be okay?”

“You mean Fran?” asked Tracy, hesitating before answering. “Well, evacuating a burning mansion isn’t exactly easy for most disabled folks. Especially considering what level we come out from that elevator.”

“Shouldn’t we go back?” asked Yoon in dismay.

“She isn’t exactly like “most” disabled folks,” answered Tracy, his wooden expression set and unreadable.

Their conversation halted as he turned the corner where they would crash into a certain youth regarding a burning corpse with grim interest if he didn’t move his smug ass.

BY RIMY :hearts: OF BTN

COMBAT TRACKERS:

PLAYER STATS:

PLAYER RATIOS:

USED 3 TECHNIQUES | 0 TOGGLES | 0 HAKI:

1 TECHNIQUES ACTIVE | 0 TOGGLES | 0 HAKI ACTIVE:

2 TECHNIQUES COOLING DOWN | 0 HAKI COOLING DOWN:

CREW COMPANION STATS:

CREW COMPANION RATIOS:

CREW COMPANION TECHNIQUES USED:

OPPONENT STATS:

OPPONENT RATIOS:

OPPONENT TECHNIQUES USED:

Wed Nov 27, 2019 1:09 pm

Roll 1A -> Flat MT - A fistful of berries (Butch -> Mateus & Co.)
Roll 1B -> Flat LT - Just fucking die already! (Butch -> Mateus & Co.)
Roll 1C -> Flat LT - Crouching badass, hidden moron (Butch -> Mateus & Co.)
Roll 1D -> UT (Butch -> Mateus & Co.)

Roll 2A -> LT (Mateus & Co. -> Butch)
Roll 2B -> LT (Mateus & Co. -> Butch)
Roll 2C -> UT (Mateus & Co. -> Butch)

Wed Nov 27, 2019 1:09 pm

The member 'Butch Castle' has done the following action : Dice Roll

#1 'Reflex Check' : 20, 17, 12, 14

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#2 'Reflex Check' : 2, 12, 3

Sat Nov 30, 2019 3:52 pm

Two pairs of steps ranged behind the bleeding bounty hunter while he tried to tear his gaze away from the burning man. "Butch! You're alive!!!" The lighter feet came dashing at him and, before the cloaked drifter could turn, hugged him from behind.

Butch cringed. He palmed the boy's head and peeled him off of himself. "Let go, ya pissant. Can't ya see I'm bleedin' like a woman in 'er moon time? Where did-- What in the seven shitty seas is that?!?!!" His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when he spotted a motherfucking tree walking behind the brat.

The barked creature halted and began to morph. Each brown and blackened chip on its body receded into flesh and the branches transformed into human limbs. The thick, patchy scales of wood on what Butch guessed was its face kneaded into wrinkled, pink skin; and the brown leaves thinned into a head of long and greying hair. Butch thought the face looked less ugly when it was a tree.

"That's my grandpa!" Yelped Yoon, stating the obvious. The aging fellow had sharp features which were disguised in part by several bruises on his mug. A single lock of his salt-and-pepper hair was burning slowly, which the codger pinched out. The man offered Butch a handshake in a hurry. "I'm Johne Tracy. Thanks for taking care of my grandson, Butch."

A crash interrupted the introductions (much to Butch's relief - greetings are a pain-in-the-ass). [ AoE DoT - Sun Dance!: DMG CARRIED ] A symphony of angry screams vocalised through the blaze's cackling. "Did ya see the chick-on-a-chair?" Butch asked Yoon with an apprehensive fold of his lips.

Yoon nodded. "Fran's fighting the guy that stabbed you! She's in the dungeons where they were keeping grandpa!"

Butch wiped the buckets of sweat leaking from his brows and removed his tattered white cloak and russet jacket. He scrunched it into a bundle and pressed it against his junior's chest. A red stain marked the spots where the knife had cut through the fabric to pierce into the wreckless gunslinger. "Get yer gramps the fuck outta here." He folded up the sleeves of his red button-up.

Tracy detained him with a concerned hand on his uninjured shoulder. "Don't underestimate the girl. She doesn't need your help."

Butch swiped away the elder's hand as if it were an annoying housefly. "Shut the fuck up, Treebeard, and get rescued like a good ol' shrub. Ya feckless donkeys left that bitch-on-a-buggy down there... Did ya stop ta think how she'll get back up if the elevator gets swallered (swallowed) by the fire? Unless ya think she can fly?" He sighed. A faint grin peeked from behind his ragged locks. "Besides, I still gotta find mah babies and stuff 'em down the twirly twig's jugular. Hope our cranky cunt hasn't killed him already."

Butch robbed the burnt corpse of his rifle (What? It's not like he was gonna use it) and pressed his palm on the slit in his shoulder. "If I find y'all dead when we get out, I'll kill ya again. Git!" He commanded before proceeding down the charcoal mine of a corridor.

He grumbled and complained while clumsily weaving through a shower of flaming debris which scalded his arm. [ LT - You forgot your uniform, firefighter: HIT ] "Aaaaahhhhh! This sucks! Why do I have ta go through so much fuckin' shit just ta look cool? And all I'll have ta show for mah troubles is some gewgaw. I bet it ain't even real!"

The whining continued all the way to the elevator. Lucky for him, the lift was open and ready to carry him down, but a suited buffalo of a man guarded its gate, iron club in hand. Butch wasted no time in firing the looted rifle. The bullet hit the eight-foot-tall giant's abdomen and yet failed to kill him. [ MT Flat - Fistful of Berries: HIT ] But, the successful shot stunned the balloon-man long enough for Butch to charge into him and shove him into the death metal trap. [ LT Flat - Just fucking die already!: HIT ]

The burly bull fell to his knees, allowing Butch to follow up with a stern kick to the jaw which bid the goliath a lovely night night. [ LT Flat - Crouching Badass, Hidden Moron: HIT ]

Butch was not awarded a moment to celebrate his first clean victory of the day. A lick from the fire snapped the elevator cable and plunged the box down into the dungeon at a speed faster than Butch was comfortable with. All he could do was jump up at the last second. Everyone knows that's how you survive an elevator fall.

The lowest level was not as deep as the hunter feared. With a loud crash, the lift stopped into the nest of stone which now served as an oven thanks to the conflagration above. Butch counted the stars swirling around his head and rose in a woozy stupor.

He fumbled out of the thicket of twisted iron like a drunk dancing out of a saloon only to find himself facing four figures - two seated and two chained.

"I guess ya ain't goin' up that way."

OOC Ideas:

COMBAT TRACKERS:

[Abandoned] [Episode] Ya don't gotta stand up ta shoot.