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Raptor

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Raptor last won the day on June 4 2011

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About Raptor

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    The Raptor

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    Dhizzandra
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    Dhizzandra#6946

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  • Gender
    Female.
  • Location
    Montana
  • Interests
    I am the Raptor.
  • Occupation
    Happy Meal.

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  1. The banshee screeched and came at her, and it was all Shanna could do not to screech and immediately run in the other direction. Her attention focused singularly on the banshee’s movements, not wanting to be caught off guard and risk losing all that she had gained. Shanna watches the Banshee approach at terrifying speed. Obviously the pocket watch that swayed around the grotesque creatures neck was not just for show. Considering her brief options, Shanna grasps another potion vial and throws it forward. IT fuzzles for a moment before suddenly sparking, arching with electricity as it crackled across the floor. The banshee only paused for a moment, before moving forward over the crackling sparks. Shanna saw this as her opportunity and surged forward, closing the distance between them as she thrust out the golden dagger…only to have it hit air. She didn’t know about the field that slowed her down, while speeding up the banshee, so it only made sense that clearly the potion didn’t trap the creature like she had hoped. Scowling, Shanna immediately turned, skidding to a stop just before hitting the edge of her own potion. Letting out a relieved sigh, she had no desire to fall victim to her own spells. She immediately took a few steps forward, and frowned. She had shortened her own range of attacks by using the potion, but apparently it did not effect the banshee. …That certainly didn’t bode well for her. “Damnit.” She muttered to herself as fingers itched. She had to somehow get the banshee to stop moving, and yet…remain close enough to stab it or at least claim the pocket watch. Shanna wracked her brain for far too long, and before she could process, the banshee was upon her. Shanna let out a sharp cry as her figure was thrown backwards over the potion and on the other side. She landed haphazardly, a crumpled mess at first, immediately trying to reposition her limbs to their appropriate places.
  2. Body now painted, Shanna wanders the lower fifteen foot radius that she has deemed safe as she waits for it to dry. Once it has done so, she replaces her clothing and gives a victorious look at her ingenuity. Wiggling her toes into one of her boots, Shanna zips it as she stands, dusting off before she regathers her backpack and cloak. Settling both onto their rightful areas, she pokes around for a way into the further rooms. Picking her way through rubble and broken walls and doors, Shanna finds exactly what she is looking for by the 4th room. There, cloaked in white and hideous lay the banshee, no doubt waiting for the next victim of her horrific cry. For the moment, it appears that Shanna has the upper hand, in that she might surprise the creature. Her hopes are high as she eases one of the potion bottles out of her hand, readying to lob it into the vicinity of the banshee, who wanders aimlessly through the long hallway. Estimating the length of the hallway to be about fifty feet. Long, but certainly not enough wiggle room to give herself time to react quickly to what could turn into a very bad situation. Shanna considers her options and watches as the banshee sways back and forth, though seems to have no intention of moving from her spot at the far end of the hall. It’s a shame there are no adjoining rooms that do not cross her line of sight. Gently uncorking the concoction in her hand, Shanna moves to step forward to throw it, only to find herself tripping over a rug that she had not considered in her grand plan. “Shitshitshit!” She chants as she falls forward, the potion vial rolling out of her hand and spilling across the floor. Naturally, this gains the attention of the banshee, who immediately lets out a screech of decibels that makes her hair stand on edge… Fortunately, the headphones seem to be holding for now, and Shanna’s brain and ears are not scrambled just yet. Though disoriented, she manages to stand to draw the dagger from her belt.
  3. Shanna contemplates Proteus’ hulking form for a moment, the hamster wheel of her brain churning and wiggling on it’s spoke before she offers a bright smile. Her head cants to the left, and she provides him a chiding tone. “What, no hug?” Without waiting for his response, Shanna latches to his much larger form and provides him with the strongest hug that she can. “I’m just glad that we survived! I don’t think I’ll be looking forward to seeing any kind of serpent anytime soon.” She laughs, before releasing her hold on her friend and stepping back. Shanna knows that it is best not to draw this out – ripping off the bandaid should be done quickly, lest it employ more pain. “Bull…” She pauses, opening the door to her airship, and as it slides open to the side, the mage offers a sigh. “You’re probably my best friend.” And she leaves him with only that, and a bright grin before she disappears into the depths of the airship, the door closing behind her. It is only a moment later before the ship takes to the air, though Shanna can be seen waving from one of the windows, before zooming across the sky.
  4. The museum is large, and Shanna has a feeling it’s going to take her more than a day to scour it for what she is looking for, unless the banshees find her first. She hopes for the latter, not wanting to be taken by surprise. Picking her foot placements carefully, Shanna shuts and bolts the door behind her, not wishing to be ambushed from behind, either. Trying to make as little noise as possible was more exhausting than she had originally thought. Those that were capable of sneaking about all the time surely deserved respect. She blew out another deep breath and then proceeded into a small alcove just off the front. Inside was a handful of coins scattered about the floor. Shanna left them, a tribute to the dead and forgotten. Her gaze instead flickered to the strewn papers – the scholar in her ached to collect and make sense of them, but she knew the futility of the cause. They were worthless without all of the documents, and finding them unmarred and unmolested was going to be a worthless task and would detract from the time she needed to devise a plan. How was she going to take out the banshee? The gold dagger at her hip was only if she had to get close, and she was hoping not to do that at all. The further away from the banshee she could remain, the better. The vials of potions at her hips would only trap and hold the banshee in would place…provided she could launch the vials correctly onto the creature. She had heard rumors of the pocketwatch, that it allowed the user to speed up…what she didn’t know was that it also slowed those within a 10 foot radius down. Wrestling it from the banshee was surely going to be a task, and she was at a loss as to how she was going to trap a creature that could move faster than her. Perhaps some sort of sigils along the floor? But that required leading the banshee to herself…she wouldn’t have time to draw them once the banshee was upon her. Unless…Perhaps if she inscribed them onto her own flesh, once the banshee got close, she could ensnare it simply by producing the right incantation. She had seen Neph do something similar, runes transcribed on his body that he had used to focus his magical abilities. If only she could harness something similar. Shanna sat as she contemplated before she drew her pack off her back and proceeded to pull out ink and a quill. Settling to removing her outer layers (A strange sight to see, a woman stripping among ruin), Shanna began to pain the appropriate scrawling symbols across her body.
  5. I am not afraid, he said to himself.
    "I love you," he whispered. "I hope you don't mind.”

  6. As the morning dawns across the sky, Shanna is already up and moving. There is no hesitation in her steps this time as she dangles the headphones about her neck and moves to open the door. She is fortunate that only one creature lays in wait, and is easily dispatched with a fireball. The creature screeches and writhes in pain as its flesh melts from bone and it becomes ashes within a mere moment. Shanna is satisfied with the outcome, carefully stepping over the cremated remains as she heads towards the large museum in the middle of the city. Her pace is quick, and she finds herself making good time. It is only midday when she arrives, though worse for the wear. She has had more scuffles with the strange, multilimbed creatures than prior, and it has taken a toll on her. Not wanting to use magic to solve everything, Shanna found herself employing steel far more often than necessary, and she was hardly a master of such tactics. She was barely passable, to be honest. The fact that she has made it this far is a miracle. Panting softly, she pulls back her hair into a ponytail and stares at the doors. Within the walls are priceless tapestries, though she doesn’t have the means to collect them for the moment, Shanna contemplates the potential of a return for them. Would anyone even want them? Surely there were collectors that would pay a hefty sum for such artifacts. Shanna’s airship had moved closer with her, following her path through the city as it hovered above the chaos so as not to be stripped or taken prisoner by the creatures. Shanna isn’t entirely sure of their intelligence, but she has no intention of letting them take her only means of escape. Drawing in a deep, steadying breath, she pushes open the door to the museum, using her hand mirror to peer inside. There seems to be no immediate threat, so she continues forward, entering the dank and dim entrance hall.
  7. It had been some time since the last adoption of children, it seemed to come and go in waves. Dhizzandra was content to help the current children learn and play – skills that had prior been left to waste. With only 5 of them left, it was significantly easier to focus on the building of the small area that had been left to be reclaimed by nature. By now several buildings were erected, proud in their structure. A communal kitchen separate from the main house was present, allowing the adults that remained to cook their own meals separate from the children. Speaking of the children – “SUSAN! Give it back!” Derrick screeched in the hallway, standing puffed and angry as Susan waggled her tongue at him from the far end, closer to the door that led to escape. In her hand, his toy sword that Peter had given him prior to leaving the orphanage. “No! I wanna play with it, you’re so stingy!” Susan pouts, flouncing towards the door. Derrick let out a noise that could only be described as disgust mixed with disdain before taking off after her smaller form. “It’s mine! You have no right to take it!” Both children were ensnared in taunting each other, their surroundings little more than a blur. It was no surprise when they both collided with the dryad, who carefully wrapped her long limbs around them, her emerald skin stark in contrast to their sun-kissed brown. “Now then, children, that’s quite enough. Susan, you have no right to take what is yours. Derrick does not have to share if he doesn’t want to.” She gently chides. “However, Derrick, there are better ways to handle someone taking your things than yelling and screaming.” Her voice is gentle as she ushers them back inside, through the kitchen door. “I’ll be taking this until your chores are done.” Dhizzandra carefully plucks the toy sword away, setting it on a high shelf. “Now, please apologize to each other and do your chores.” “I don’t wanna.” Susan pouts, her lower lip protruding. “Ah, ah, pouting isn’t going to get you out of it. Chores are an important part of your day, they help you learn to do things for yourself.” “Fiiiiiine.” Susan sighs, dropping her hands as she slinks off to help hang the wash, and Derrick sticks his tongue out at her back as she passes. Dhizzandra tsks at him, and he gives a sheepish look. “Sorry, ma’am.” He murmurs. “I’ll go bring in the water.” He is rewarded with a soft smile and an affectionate hair ruffle. “I’ll start dinner, then.” She offers.
  8. The loneliness of the situation settles on Shanna like a cloud. She wishes Jaro was present to keep her company, his sour disposition always making light of even the most dire of circumstances. She wonders what foul mood he would be in today, surely chastising her for her traipsing through dangerous towers for some silly time warping artifact and chiding her for her the trust she has blindly placed in the headphones. At least it was companionship. Jaw Finder would likely be more inclined to help her dig through the remnants of the village, seeking things to help it understand the soft bodies fascinations. Neph would no doubt try to ditch her at the first opportunity, not that she could blame him, the poor man seemed only to succumb to trouble every time they met. Still, presence of someone was preferable to the silence that stretched among her rummaging. “What am I, chopped liver?” “Shh.” Shanna tells the voice, unsure if others can hear it’s taunting voice or if it’s simply that she’s going crazy, finally. Not wishing to delay herself any further, Shanna begins the trek ot the last floor of the tower. Employing the same mirror trick, she is disappointed to find that there is no banshee roaming the hallways immediately. She had hoped to find one on her first try and be done with the whole mission, but alas it appeared that was not to be her luck. Slinking upwards anyway, Shanna decides it is best to explore this floor rather than admit defeat immediately. IT is fortunate that she does, she finds a handful of gems and various other treasures small enough to fit within her pack, as well as a few coin purses. She tries desperately to ignore the bodies that lay strewn about, skeleton reminders of the horrors that plague the land. Withdrawing, she descends in a much faster manner than she had travelled upwards. IT is nearing night now, and Shanna frowns. The tower, for as much as she can tell, is sound and likely safe. It was probably in her best interest to remain for the night behind a door that actually locked. She moves to ensure the bolt is sound before shuffling to the center of the room and setting her pack down. Shanna removes the potions from her midsection and carefully sets them upon a dilapidated table before settling in for the night.
  9. Shanna has a goal to collect items of power in an effort to combat the Whispernight. All things considered, I dont think she is anywhere close. Disaster happens too easily.
  10. Betrayal is lots of fun! I cant believe I forgot that one.
  11. Lords of Waterdeep.
  12. The first floor is little more than a glorified living room. It echoes of a time bygone and is littered with the remnants of furniture of comfort. In the wall, a fireplace is nestled and shows several years of disuse. Dust accumulated across the floor and the furniture like a grim cloak. Courage renewed by the lack of trailing footsteps and lack of disturbance in the dust, Shanna lets out a breath she had not realized she had been holding. Free of the burden of worry for a brief moment, Shanna examines the room, contemplating a chest in the corner. Unable to help her curiosity, she meanders towards it and gently eases the lid up. Inside she finds only fabrics and blankets, moth eaten and rat chewed. Wrinkling her nose, she carefully closes the lid and resumes her hunt for the next set of stairs. It is easily found, and she begins her ascent once more. Carefully creeping up the stairs, she pauses to rummage through her pack before drawing out a hand-mirror. She lifts it above her head in an effort to see into the next room. She emerges near a fireplace, into what appears to be a kitchen of sorts. She surmises it must be, given the acrid stench of rotten food and mold. Plugging her nose, Shanna contemplates holding her breath as she shuffles through, desperate to leave the room and enter another. Having no desire to rummage, she exits the room quickly, drawing in a gulping breath once free of the stench. “Gross.” She murmurs quietly to herself.
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