SweetCyanide

He wondered what excuse he had to offer. Ramsey crouched low atop the Casimir, becoming increasingly foggier to notice due to the pelting rain albeit the dangerous light in his hands. Woo-sah. Beaming like a hot rod, a rippling shot pierced the wind and exploded in a shower of dust, rock, and golem viscera. Ram watched and squinted through the scope as the freezing Golem struggled to light up and take a few steps forward - before falling to it's knees like a slowly-collapsing hunk of debris and finally, landing flat on half of it's face. He sighed into his speakers, (which probably amplified his breath) aimed his sights on the coming blue lights, and assessed the situation from a higher ground. From what he can guess - through the rain - is that he's helped shoot down the Golem who's been trying to pound the man dangling on a horse their way. And, assuming that he was friendly, (because it seemed that none of his crew attempted to shoot him) he took the chance to, well, shoot him himself. With painkiller, of course. Reloading his sniper with a special-grade piece of healthy ammunition, Ram shot him with some love. Along with it was a BANG that sounded louder and possibly slower than the rest of the shots called as the sharp painkiller found it's way whistling into the man's good shoulder with a bit of struggle. Assuming once more he wouldn't fall off the horse due to the split-second pain and impact of the shot, he turned his pelted gaze towards the strange threats that howled every second they came hurling around. A voice in the back of his head began to echo as he pulled the trigger again and again, reloading the magazines every now and then. Unconsciously, he begins to think; I thought this was some kind of penalty job. BANG. Weren't we going to hand out supplies, or something? BANG.

I'm not dead yet 👍

Looks like pulling out the big guns ended up exciting these pirates, an opposite effect Tommy was going for. She expected to, well, scare them away. With a chainsaw. But it ended up encouraging them to fight - a mistake on her part. Now that it was a stupid move, she's hiding behind a barrel, remembering never to bring a knife to a gunfight. And speaking of gunfights, she is hilariously bad with a gun. Finger kept loose on the trigger, Tommy scowled thinking about the mockery Ares would lose himself over. She could already imagine him rolling around, that little white bastard laughing himself to death - oh, she'll show him- A bullet whizzed past her ear, an explosion of splinters coming along with it. She was too terrified out of her ass to take a sneak peek and aim, so her hand came up like a whack-a-mole and pulled the trigger, narrowly missing twice before shooting the third one and hearing a comforting SHIT, which prompted her to hop out behind the barrel and dive in with her axe. Grip steady as it should be, the rust found it's way into the pirate's neck. The blood dripping from the blade made her steady grip slippery - her white jacket painted in a blissful amount of red. A moment of relief washed over her as she watched the goon drop dead - that moment quickly cast away once she made a cursory glance to her left and saw another pirate. This time, sprinting with a blade meant just for her. Obviously, she reacted by shooting him - then missing, then shooting again - and missing the second shot - and the third - until she said 'fuck it' and whipped out that gnarly pink chainsaw from the keychain on her belt. Staying low, Tommy lunged forward, starting up the saw after forcefully plunging it through her victim's abdomen. She felt every muscle and organ tense up against her - and like a hot knife through butter, Tommy ruthlessly ripped and tore, the warcry of Puppycat mixing with the rumbling screams of pain of a dead man whose stomach narrowly opened up. The sight of it was disgusting. The feeling of it, was absolutely great. Shrinking the saw back into a keychain, she stepped back and looked down at her crime against humanity. Tommy was covered in more blood now, having torn apart a man whose life she would have thought about sparing - and now has his entrails currently splattered against the greasy floorboards. But hands possessed by the devil, look at what she's done now. She let a shrill exhale pass out from her lungs; a breath filled with fatigue, guilt, and carnage. "Elias!" Shifting her body to the side and judging by a quick peripheral look and sound of voice, it appears she has found the endearing storyteller quivering behind - perhaps, one of the other crew members she hasn't properly introduced herself to yet. Sprinting at them like a maniacal bull was definitely not one of their own - a man whose grin twisting with every moment he neared closer with a sword in hand. Instinctively, Tommy reached for her gun- Until she was suddenly hit in the back of the head with a handle - followed by an amused duet of hearty laughter, then punched in the face and pushed off the ship without a second thought. "SHI-" Tommy fell into the ocean that night. Unable to register what the hell just happened - her primal instinct began to scream - her brain telling her that she is in the water. And by utter luck, Tommy does not know how to swim. Tommy pulls out a small knife and stabs it into the side of the ship, beginning to scream and beg for Gaia's mercy, hoping someone have heard her panicked screeches over the bullets and blades - her elvish dialect swerving in from time to time while she clung on for dear life as the tides drowned her again and again, struggling to keep up with the pace of the Wet Dog. Meanwhile, Ares was still out cold.

Smoking pipe in his right hand, Raccoon sharply inhaled through his nostrils as loud and as long as he can - the snorted air garnering his friend's grimace as she crouched low on all fours - inconspicuously perched atop a roof's ledge. After about a few seconds of annoying the hell out of Mugo, the shaman suddenly paused with a chest pounding with pollution, cheeks filled to the brim with ethereal smoke. What came out of his mouth next was not a slur of self-induced case of the jitteries, but a thick ring of smoke dramatically fading into the breeze. He went on suddenly on a coughing fit, having sucked in a bug - and begun wheezing black smoke through his facial orifices. It took him more than a few seconds to get rid of the itch in his throat, the cloud of unhealthiness surrounding his vision and ability to balance on the ledge. Right beside the semi-aquatic 'imp', he rolled up his sleeves and fixed his glasses. With a posture proud and stout, he deepened his voice incredibly low. "Do you smell that?" Asked a husky Raccoon, whose question was directed at Mugo. In reply, she yawned. Closing his eyes in contemplation, he placed his hand upon her head, patting her slowly. "It's the smell of dange- AH-" He yells in surprise when Mugo nearly bit his hand off, reeling away and pausing a few seconds - then cleared his throat to regain his low voice. "It's the smell of danger." Suddenly, Raccoon dramatically whipped his head to the side with a handsomely furrowed gaze, intensely focused eyes focused toward the direction of; WAK. The WAK. He doesn't know exactly what WAK stands for, but the spirits have told him, and they have told him, that it is time. For WAK. He shifts his attention toward the red glowing symbols on his skin, watching his tattoos dance in a show of flickering lights. "And what do we about.. danger?" He asks again, snapping his fingers and halting the magic in his wrist. This time, Mugo picked her ear. "We approach danger like we are danger. But we're.. like, more dangerous! The plan is, we head down there, go say hello to those dudes down there like; Oh, we're so cool, check out how cool we are - you guys definitely need us - and then they're all like; Aw man, you guys are so cool, you should definitely come with us and kick some vampire butt. And then we're all; Hell yeah man! And when get in the WAK, and we go all KAPOW! BAM! KA-PHOOEY! PEWPEWPEW!" Raccoon puffed the smoking pipe, then exhaled a large amount of smoke through his mouth. "You get it, right? My awesome plan? .. We're so gonna wing this." He glanced beside him. "Right, Mugo?" Mugo has disappeared. ". . . Mugo?" Mugo was down there. She left Raccoon halfway through his questionable speech, having jumped to another roof and landed on the concrete with a forward roll. It was getting past her bedtime, and well, she wanted to get this over with so she could sleep. The entrance was decorated by a mess of dead men painted on the concrete, their blood flowing through the cracks. The atmosphere brought by these deaths has dragged the temperature lower - something Mugo somehow appreciated. The air's been stuffy all night, it was nice to get a breather every now and then. But, well, she's not too happy about the dead guys. Hopping to a severed head not too far from where she was standing, she crouched down and decided to do a little inspection despite her initial response by sticking her tongue out and cursing in mandarin. A group of people approaches while she continues to examine a face of a dead man. Drained? Check. Teeth marks? Check. Possibly consumed by none other than a vampire? Check. Does it taste like it was consumed by a vampire? . . . Her blue tongue hovered over the bite marks, and slowly, she brought the severed head near- "MUGO, NO!" Raccoon swatted the head out of Mugo's hands, frantic. "Do NOT eat people! Bad! Wh - hey!" She gave him a rather annoyed look. "Don't look at me! You just tried to lick a dead dude!" A silent pause. Mugo brought a finger up to her face and found that it had a residue of blood left on it. Raccoon suddenly gasped, incredibly offended. "Don't. You. Dare." In perhaps a few seconds of time, Raccoon would have jumped on Mugo like trying to save your dog from swallowing a sharp bone. He would have, if it wasn't for the arrival of the rest of the group seemingly watching them from quite a short distance. The shaman's jaw dropped at the sight, of two beautiful women. And their lovely friend too, of course. His eyes blessed, he almost felt like crying. Witnessing double blondes at a place and time like this? Pretty blondes? Bless Mother Gaia. Almost immediately, he stood up, grabbing Mugo by her hood and pulling her up like the tiny midget she is. He rested his elbow on the top of her head, flaunting a handsome pose, then flaunting a dangerously smug grin to the pair of women that had him internally screaming. When Mugo sucked on her bloodied finger, Raccoon suddenly cleared his throat. "Ladies. And ehrm, dude. Buddy, guy, man. How - how's it, uh, going?" @Stumbler @Wade @amenities @bfc @Mag

well at one point he probably smoked a joint, who knows 😘

HA! I FIXED MY POST! You are one smooth criminal, cyanide ~

dangnamit now i gotta redo my post sorry bout that guys, ill have that fixed in a couple of hours or so

They say those who can try and predict the future end up having to walk with their heads on backwards in the afterlife, so that they are unable to see what is ahead - forever doomed to see what is behind them no matter what direction they take. Raccoon claims whoever said that 'must be outta their fuckin' mind'. Nestled quietly on a rooftop with the crickets surrounding him, he listened intently to the spirits who answered his call - and thus, was placed in a state of tranquility suitable for talking to souls who took comfort in the moonlight. The raccoon-haired man who was taking note of all the gossip passing out his ear is known as Lotor Loyola - or, well, Raccoon. An easygoing, skirt-chasing lunatic who had an affinity for animals. Around Raccoon was a circle of his magic - sitting on a purple pool as white little spirits crawled and jumped on him. He is a shaman you see, a literal bridge who connected to the material world and the ethereal world. Currently, he is in a vulnerable state that can be easily taken care of in a matter of seconds by an unforeseen force or simply knocking the guy out cold with the right amount of ya to his yeet. And presently, he is in such vulnerability by just meditating on a rooftop in Tia - while Tia was getting boned. Obviously, he needed someone to watch his back while he turned his on the literal dragon that was already reigning all sorts of hell. Slowly, slowly.. SMACK "ARGH, WHAT THE HELL-" His voice cracked, scaring the spirits off his body and shutting down the purple pool around his criss-crossed legs. SMACK, SMACK, SMACK- After realizing the person assigned to protect him has just begun attacking his head, Raccoon snatched the bladed fan sharp enough to possibly butcher his cranium in half. Luckily, it was the blunt part of the metal so he wouldn't bleed. But that wasn't the point. "Sorry - SO-RRY! Man - you don't have to get all physical, dude! I was getting to the good par-" Then his words trailed off, raising his hand from the fist raised at him. He nervously blinked. Significantly younger than she looks, the blue-skinned girl hitting Raccoon is who they call Mugo. A very short semi-aquatic demi-human Raccoon likes to compare to an imp - from the attitude, to the tail. And judging by Mugo's actions, she's clearly had enough of his shenanigans. She leapt forward to snatch her fan, glaring into the shaman as if almost cutting him wasn't enough. As a literal fish out of water, Tia felt like the bane of her existence. A foreigner, she underestimated the simple words of 'you probably shouldn't bring a jacket, it's pretty humid' and is now suffering. Fanning herself was not even a viable escape, as the humidity worsened under her shirt. Gaia knows why the air is still stuffy even at night, but it's a good thing she kept the black-yellow jacket around her waist. Besides - there are hundreds of reasons why meditating here of all places was a bad idea - but Mugo couldn't possibly point them out because of the drastic language barrier. Sure, he can read her mind - and sure - they've known each other long enough to figure out what they're both saying - but can he understand her in Renovatian tongue he's probably never of heard at all? Of course not! So she sat there, pouting and growling - waiting for an answer. Raccoon was quick to take note of her attitude, clearing his throat and wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Sooo," He hummed, taking out a talisman from his pocket and tracing his finger down the ancient symbols inscribed on the paper. "Tia's going to shit - and um, I don't mean it's going to the toilet - but you know what I mean." Raccoon paused to squint at Mugo through his glasses. "Right?" She glanced back with an empty expression. "Right, o-kay." He hummed, while screaming and sirens ensued from an approach of a threatening monster - combined with the ambiance of street hustles and gunshots. You know, all the shit. "And," He raised a finger up, grinning stupidly wide with a smug expression. "I know why." This statement caused the demi-human to yawn, who was fanning herself. "The spirits told me what they've seen - and I'm telling you man! It's the wildest shit - you ain't gonna believe it - but I know you will! You will, cus' it's true." Mugo glared back with an unimpressed look. "It's bout to go down, ov'r there-" He pointed that finger to the direction of WAK, where Mugo stared with a high amount of curiosity. "right there, like, you see that? It's right beside - yeah, yeah! You see, you gotta learn why you should never doubt my gut feelings, cus' they never bullshit me, man." Her face zeroed in with confusion. He was always awfully cryptic in the strangest ways she could remember - that his hunches mean life or death or whatever nonsense spills out of his mouth the next couple of minutes in a blur of jittery; 'Dude, follow me!' or, 'Yo, you feel that?', and 'My feet are tingly - that means something.' - so it took a couple of seconds to figure out why in the hell he's been dragging her along for the past couple of hours in their errands here in Tia, until - It was another couple of seconds before they exchanged contrasting stares, Raccoon building up excitement as Mugo slowly grimaced. "You know what we're going to do." Mugo shook her head. ".. Yeeaaah-" And shook her head. "Yeaaaaaah!" She placed her forehead on the end of her fan. Raccoon raised his hands up in the air in a sort of victorious pose, gesturing gang signs and laughing in a sinister voice. He scrambled to his feet and jumped up in energy he should've lost by lack of sleep, pointing once more to the direction of the WAK - obliviously not taking the time to look up at the sky to notice the massive fight in the air that could've left him rambling on and on how utterly cool it is. She supposed it was a good thing. "HA! YEAH! I am - awesome!"

I might have to ask to be skipped for this round. The consequence of procrastination's hot on my trail Just imagine Ram doing paperwork with a tiny puppy on his table 👍

Would it be possible to slide me in Group 1? 😗

If exams don't beat me to it, I'll help defend the city with some new goons. 👍

ares bc he's trash