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susitsu last won the day on August 21 2016

susitsu had the most liked content!


About susitsu

  • Rank
    The Betrayer
  • Birthday 07/25/1995

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    Over here!
  • Interests
    Maybe you.
  • Occupation
    Not there.

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  1. Thunk, thunk! 'My, what a beautiful sound!' His voice practically rang out in harmonious joy inside their minds as the first struck his mark, and the second a dead man. He was not emotive in the slightest, but this mental link was resulting in his true messages being conveyed. It could not be said he did not have feeling. And yet, in true contrast, a second comment followed to his companions, 'My poison dagger has hit its mark.' The ranger then began to run at his mark in the same breath, absolutely exhilarated by the idea of whittling away his stamina just at arms reach, moving too fast for his style of combat, regarding him as one confined to his indicated range. Surely those hydras meant something? His cloak fluttered behind him, hands reaching into both his sleeves to draw from them in an entirely unrealistic fashion, smoothly so, a pair of kamas. Simple, well-cared for alternate weapons with no magical properties. His range might as well look shorter, but a behind his skull mask was a wicked grin baring fanged teeth and his mighty maw, hunger flashing in his eyes as the third breath was drawn. Then Sebastian turned around, and blew apart the earth. How careless of me, Was the single thought he had. A reprimand. After-all, learning from one's mistakes must happen in even a moment like this; one in which with the rest of the world in clear view, his bloody form descended, it tripped in the air, it spun, and he slammed into the earth rolling. Beyond the point of the destroyed concrete, were shreds of his bloody cloak, though his clothing was not going to fall off him, it was certainly staining an unhappy color of red. Rubble lay strewn around him in a similar manner; bits of pavement shattered into small plate-like pieces with sharp edges jutting out. His kamas were really nowhere to be seen, not something one couldn't replace, but gods know whether they were in a plant or if one was blown into tiny pieces. He coughed up some blood, mulling things over in his mind for a while. His eyes fluttered a few times. What was going to happen next? Now there was a question he did not want to find out. In that moment, his faculties began taking their process backwards in his mind, reeling away from the realm of rest and perfect recovery. This is not the wild! His own voice called out in protest, and the very spirit of his will to rise drew forth a violent convulsion from his body; he coughed up more blood and rolled over. He felt like he was swimming, or drowning with the sound of footsteps reverberating distantly against his eardrums. Shattered? That's fine. He could press his ears to the ground and feel the heavy steps of the guards coming if he wanted, but such an act would be wasted time. But what the hell, he wasn't dead? In-fact, he was beginning to crawl, and slowly working each of his limbs faster over time. His face to the ground, he rapidly sniffed at it, coughing constantly and struggling across the pavement alongside the broken path; he was backtracking towards Cain. On some level, he had conceived his order and the state he was in. Double that, he knew more guards were coming and one of their companions had already taken to abandon. The risk didn't matter. He liked to go above and beyond, leaving what would look like the trail of an artist's paintbrush from on high in beautiful crimson ichor. Finally, having properly taken in the scent of Cain within about ten feet, he lifted his unmasked face to examine the situation. He took a deep breath in through his nose, smudged and dirty face still just barely concealed by his tattered hood. Cain and I look about the same. But with every passing moment, Amraphensbane appeared more revitalized, relatively speaking. Still, it looked like both his legs and his right-arm were barely in functioning condition. He might have just been able to crawl under some plants and lay low once he had moved far enough through dirt to lose his trail, but here he was, finally remembering to speak aloud in his mind amongst The Dead; The Black Mistress was still with them, having been cruelly dispatching guards. "I could use a drink." His voice perfectly sincere, and looked bloodthirsty as all hell as he gazed up and around for oncoming danger.
  2. When ur working on a post and u accidentally hit ctrl v too well (there's an image)


  3. One, two, three, and breath... He had taken off after the guards following a methodical countdown, in essence allowing the flow of events of progress before he acted, only to hide himself alongside the caravan Sebastian had been travelling in previously mere moments after, flitting from one state of concealment to another, now actually poking his head around the vehicle to watch the fight. What Amraphensbane saw, he couldn't easily put into words. A magical barrier, ghostly beasts protruding from his marks back, and his employer had become something like a featureless, black, gimp snake. Magic truly was a wonder, but it wasn't one he actually cared for. His grasp of it was limited, knowing there to be base elements and schools, which did not help his tactical grasp of what was going on. However, his experience held him to an entirely different standard. Autonomous I suspect. Dual-wielding is already an over-extended effort of one's focus. I could be ripped apart... That wouldn't be good. He considered their emulation of a living creature led him to further assume their purpose was fixated on the living, almost like a pair of attack dogs looking for a pound of meat. If he had a pound of meat, he might just give them it. But instead, as Sebastian's duel with his black mass of an employer parted, he drew a vial of poison from his belt and a throwing dagger. And in the mere moments that it took him to saturate the blade in his favored poison, the lady murderer had unloaded a handful of shots from a barrier she put up. The poison itself was his favorite, personally collected from dart frogs, coating the blade in a slimy secretion meticulously scraped off the frog's skin; this particular poison was difficult to deal with, entirely so to unprepared mundane healers. He had to have a witch prepare his antitoxins individually in-case he ever poisoned himself. Of course, magical healers were also an ever-present problem in his line of work. However, 'quick death' was how you would describe what comes after the paralysis his poison inflicts. So following a hail of bullets, the ranger robed assassin trailed his mark's movement towards the white-haired woman's target, and he throw the dagger out towards him: It was a gambit, one he poisoned a second dagger during, betting that Sebastian would try to protect his guard from his comrade's onslaught of magical and metal covering-fire. If he was right, from this angle, Sebastian would practically run directly into the dagger, catching it in his lower-back should his defenses fail. If not...there was no point poisoning the man that was just attacked by The Dead Mistress, as his death was assured without protection.
  4. My work days are Friday-Sunday. During this time, I am death.

    1. Alexei


      -Laughs in swing shift-

    2. susitsu
  5. My apologies for disappearing, Ive been laid up with newfound back pain for the four days between my shifts. Got my next four days off and plan to post.
  6. Yeah, sorry for further delays. I’ve been working a lot of hours and got surprise early morning mandatory training at work immediately after 1 day off from two weeks of six days a week. I be just a little longer.
  7. I will be working on posts come Sunday. I have almost the whole next week off, after six days a week for two weeks.

  8. Started a new job that has me a little brain-dead with learning immediately after coming back into town, but I will be on this post.
  9. 'Raph.' You could feel his displeasure resonate across the psychic link, something his tone showed none of nor would his posture normally. It said something of the composed creature he was, that only in this unfamiliar situation did any sign of feeling show. 'That is fine,' He replied to the rest of his company, accepting this temporary nickname without any feeling carried across this time as he had composed his internal thoughts, immediately curbing any feelings of connection to the name; simply due to the fact he didn't like it. Feelings like that didn't matter in the place of business. It was simply tedium he did not let clog up the structure of his thoughts. So, onward, he swept forward like a spirit in the dark, unknown and unseen, particularly unheard as he stepped out into the street. It was clearing fast, in his direction. He would have to push against people to move towards the caravan, and there were additional orders. This was the set-up. He considered his options carefully and the approaching factors as he held his right-hand ahead of himself to push as he must by the terrified people. This was an incredible commotion, and he was most troubled by the consideration five minutes might have been asking for too much. Perhaps these people were prideful and quite dutiful? He took in the vibrancy of the surrounding architecture for a moment, to value the drive of those who would defend this city, and he saw a great way up onto the rooftops so he could close in on the caravan. Oh, but... It was option B. They had no time. His ears twitched as there were nearly no normal citizens left nearby, some daring onlookers, and the sound of heavy boots moving with purpose towards his location. Climbing would be far too obvious now and the cover of people around him had disappeared merely seconds ago. He thought to address the others, 'It seems there was a patrol, incredibly close by. It will be here in forty seconds, leaving you to fight for a little over a minute while I am re-positioning.' How many? He couldn't tell just from a sound heard between breaths, and he was continuously pushing actions forth between each second as he pulled aside and began to change the color of his cloak in the cover of a small alcove on a shop. Everyone foolish enough to stay around was far too busy gawking; none saw his cloak take on a rather pleasing shade of earthy brown that one might expect in a forest on a ranger. It provided no real sense of camouflage in the city, instead simply making him look the opposite of menacing. He was now an onlooker, stepping precariously close to the scene of a crime. He only went as close as the nearest watcher was, stepping slowly over those forty seconds, leaning in towards someone as though he was seeking a piece of gossip just as the guards came running by. In that moment, he stated across the psychic connection, 'Four. Say yes if you want death.' He felt it was a promise, and such was conveyed. He promised at least one body instantly. But he left Cain the choice to make; otherwise they would pass right by him and arrive to help in ten seconds. He wasn't particularly bothered by the idea he might give away his position, for he had been closing in on Sebastian with every step he had taken from their own transport. It might very well make a bloody good cover to follow-up on in a flurry after his mark.
  10. Hey, yeah, I appreciate the thought. I went out of town for a big camping trip that helped me clear my head and I'm doing better. I'll be trying to write again over the next few days.
  11. Sorry everyone, just life getting me down pretty suddenly. I'm just back in from May War and feeling a lot better.

  12. I’m very sorry, depression is in full swing. I haven’t forgotten about this.
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