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      Vote for Valucre [February]   02/02/2017

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About bigfatcat

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  1. OOC: (Same here, it's midterm season. May be best to put this on hold until we have more time, or just take it at a slower pace? Either way, posting now- ) For a few moments, everything became a blur for Moreau. One instant he was holding onto Vyne for dear life, the next he was being thrown into the air as raindrops splashed down from above, the world swaying below him in a deadly dance of blades and glass. His eyes saw, his body moved, but it was all instinctive now. His mind had given up, resigned itself to fate, floating along through the madness like a jellyfish on an ocean current. One way or another, this would all be over soon- either he made it, or he died. At this point he wasn't sure which he'd prefer. Then he heard something familiar, a mechanical sound cutting through the rain and the fighting and all the crazy shit around him. The grinding of wheels, the hissing of a steam engine. The train! Alarmed he cried out, only to be hurled once again by his elven companion. For a fraction of a second, he was in midair again, stomach churning as he stared at the train below and prayed that he would make it- -and then he was crashing down in a carriage filled with hay, the impact knocking the wind out of him. A hard impact, but not a fatal one. An instant later Vyne and Squagison landed behind him, and then the train began to pick up speed, a horn up ahead hooting loudly as it thundered out of the station. Black-clad figures came racing across the glass roof over the station, and two of them tried to jump off, desperate to try and catch up. They failed. The train was moving too quickly now, and Moreau winced slightly as he watched the thugs' bodies bounce of the side of a carriage and tumble down to the rails below, where things got quite messy indeed. If him or either of the other two had been a moment too late, that could've been them. In spite of it all, though, he couldn't help but laugh. He'd made it! They'd never catch him now! Grinning madly at the black-clad figures who'd been chasing him, he flipped them the bird as they shrank into the distance, left behind by the train now racing along the tracks. "So long, suckers!" A few seconds passed, and then he glanced at the others, wondering how they were. Squagison looked like he was all right, though it was hard to tell with his armor. As for Vyne, he was mostly uninjured... but crying? It had been quite a day, yet that was perhaps the most shocking thing Moreau had seen so far. Hesitantly, he attempted to strike up a conversation. "Are you..." His voice was too quiet, though, and the wind snatched it away. Probably for the best anyway- who knew what the thief might do to him if Moreau accidentally offended the guy? Once they'd had some time to recover, it'd be easy enough to get into some of the other carriages- most of them were just cargo, and none of the locks so tight that Vyne or Squagison would have trouble getting past them. Squagison mentioned he was going to sleep, and Moreau nodded, understanding. He was feeling pretty exhausted himself. Still, it would only be a few hours until they reached their next destination, and he had to be ready. Hopefully they'd have an easier time getting off than they did getting on. *** Two hours later, back in Telvarnu. Half the gang were nursing wounds, and the other half were cursing themselves for accepting this job. It had seemed easy enough: hunt down a scholar and steal some grotty old map he was carrying, but someone else had gotten to their target first. Two people, in fact, and both of them tough ones. The pain and embarrassment of their failure would have been bad enough- but since the scholar and the two others had ridden off on the train, things had only been getting worse. The men were clustered in a dimly-lit den, a building hidden so deep in the stinking back-streets of Telvarnu that nobody would ever find it unless they knew where to look. Which was what made the newcomer so unsettling. Most of the gang were the regular thieves or street thugs, wearing dark, dirty clothes and dirtier scowls, but a man had just walked in, and he was dressed rich. Fine, silky clothes, a pure white shirt and leggings, without so much as a speck of dust to be seen on them. The gang might have mugged him there and then, had he not been one of their most generous clients. His eyes were quietly roving over the assembled thugs and criminals, with a look of mild distaste. After a moment of silence, he spoke, in a quiet and polite voice. "Is there anyone here who can tell me why I don't have my map right now?" Nobody answered. He sighed, then continued. "Am I supposed to believe you're all cowards? After what I paid you for this job, I believe I'm owed an explanation." A second's pause, then a man rose to meet him. A tall fellow, the one who'd been the first to find Moreau and who'd come close to taking down Squagison, though he hadn't caught either in the end. Still, he was something of a leader in the gang, and he couldn't let himself be seen as frightened in front of his men. "We found your guy, all right." The words were a low growl, as he tried to mask his fear with menace. "There were others with him, though. We think them must've been hired mercs, because whoever they were they was damn good. You didn't say he'd have security!" The man in white nodded calmly. "No, I did not. Perhaps I overestimated your competence." He leaned forwards a little. "Did you find out where they went, then?" He didn't seem angry. The gang's leader nodded, a little relieved. "They went out on one of the trains, northbound I think. If you check the timetables to find out where it was going you should be able to track 'em down." "Excellent. He's going the way we expected." The man in white smiled. "Can't say this turned out how I had hoped, but I suppose I owe you my thanks." He raised one hand, palm outwards, and pointed it at the gang leader's head. Which exploded in a shower of blood and bone and flying teeth. The other thugs immediately burst into action, drawing knives and guns and lunging forwards- only to flinch back at the man in white held out his arm at them, still smiling. "Now now, let's not be hasty here." He waited a moment, as if daring them to try and attack him, then slowly lowered his hand. "You haven't been entirely useless, so I think one of you is fair compensation for my wasted money. Consider yourselves lucky." He turned around, presenting his back to them, and walked out the door. Nobody moved to follow. There were others waiting for him outside, nine figures of varying shapes and sizes, all of them armed. Some of them had hands on their weapons, but they relaxed as he gave them a nod of reassurance. "No worries, they weren't so foolish as to try anything." He rubbed his hands together, excited. "Now, let's head to the inner city and see if we can't find ourselves a train. It seems we have a bit of traveling ahead of us..." *** Four hours later, on the train. The train ride went smoothly. After the first few minutes, Telvarnu faded into the distance behind them, and before long they were racing across the countryside. There were some nice views to be seen on the way, but Moreau ignored most of them, only glancing at their surroundings occasionally to check where they were. He made no comment on the first few towns the train passed through, but after a few hours he snapped his fingers and glanced at Vyne, to get his attention. "Next stop we get off, okay?" A moment later he went off to find Squagison, who he shook to try and wake him up. "Sorry to disturb your rest, but we've almost reached our first destination. Sure enough, the train was slowing down. They were in a forest, with the rainway running through a wide clearing cut through the trees, and up ahead thin columns of smoke could be seen rising, signs of a town not far off. "It's called Molim," Moreau explained, once the other two were roused, "nothing special, unless you're in the lumber trade. Still, if I was reading the map right, there should be an entrance not far out from it into the caves we're looking for. I'd suggest we grab some supplies and maybe stop for the night, then head out in the early morning, when there'll be less people to know where we're going." Hopefully nobody would have tracked them from Telvarnu quite yet, but the less signs they left of their passage, the greater their head start. The train pulled smoothly into the station- thankfully it was stopping here, so they'd be able to sneak out rather than making a risky jump. Unlike the glass and brick and metal of Telvarnu, everything here seemed to be made of stone or wood- mostly wood, which wasn't surprising given where the town was situated. There were large piles of logs on the platform, already waiting to be shipped off to other parts of the continent. Overall, it smelled fresh and clean, a nice difference from where they'd left. Quite possibly the last safe place they'd see in a while, before they headed off into parts unknown.
  2. The cloaked vessel was already rising as the Bull reacted to its initial attack, and by the time he retaliated it was high in the air, a difficult target. This wouldn't be enough to stop the Bull from sending its own spear screaming back at it, rendered far more dangerous by the energies coursing through it, but the aircraft wasn't out of tricks just yet. A flicker appeared in the air for a moment, as it shifted, a small conical shape detaching from its upper side. This part shot into the air, leaving the greater part of the vehicle behind to be annihilated milliseconds later in an explosion that shook the sky, vaporizing plastics and metal and stranger materials in a single brilliant flash. However advanced it might have been, the aircraft had been forced to sacrifice a significant portion of itself- but a fragment of it remained intact, flying higher still. Oddly enough, it made no further attacks, instead changing course and heading rapidly westward, on course to leave the battlefield entirely. Perhaps its mysterious pilots had seen the futility of their efforts and decided to flee rather than die in vain. Or perhaps one attack had been all they'd needed. *** The officer wasn't a man easily surprised. He'd been through a lot, seen things most men wouldn't believe existed, and could take most of what the world could throw at him without so much as flinching. Even so, he froze mid-breath as the foreign entity was struck from behind, eyes widening in shock. What in God's name... He hadn't ordered a strike, hadn't even been aware of any aircraft in the area, but the Bull's retaliation confirmed that something had been there- even if he couldn't see what was hit, that projectile shouldn't have detonated without a target. Voices screamed through the radio, and the noise of the explosion ripped through the air, but the officer's mind suddenly went quiet, as he calmed himself down and put the pieces together, realizing what had just happened. The U.S. military didn't have cloaking technology that good yet- if they did, he'd know about it. Which meant that someone else had interfered, a foreign power. Maybe they'd been spooked by the foreign entity landing in New York and sent something to try and kill it... but no, if anyone had been that badly scared and had the resources to deploy an aircraft that advanced, they'd have sent much more than just a single vessel with a simple payload. It was a spy craft, armed only with one very noticeable weapon, and it had only attacked when a temporary truce had been formed. Whoever had sent it hadn't been trying to destroy the giant. They'd been trying to provoke it, turn its power against the United States. The beast was in a rage, now, and if he couldn't somehow stop it, it could lay waste to the entire Eastern seaboard, even the whole country. Hell, it might not stop there. Already, it lunged towards him. A juggernaut, seemingly unstoppable. The Bull, however, would crash into an obstruction, an invisible wall blocking his path, stronger than solid steel. The same force-field that had protected the officer and his squad from the explosion a few moments ago now held back the giant, shimmering slightly as it fought against the Bull's strength. It was already cracking, though, more of a delaying tactic than a real defense. The officer tossed his radio to Violet, yelling out a brief command to his squad. "Scatter! Tell them to deploy Two and Three, and call in Four! Call in Four-" He was cut off as the force-field broke with the sound of a thousand windows shattering, unable to hold the Bull back any longer. The K-1 squad were already diving for cover, but the officer stood firm, settling into a fighting stance as the Bull bore down on him. If he was going to try something, he didn't get the chance. The giant struck him head-on and carried him forwards, crashing through a nearby building and practically collapsing it before slamming him into the ground, pinning him against the street. Or what was left of him, at least. Whatever tricks the man had up his sleeve weren't enough to protect him from being shoved through a building, and the charge had left his spine snapped in half, the rest of his body battered and broken, lying limp like a rag-doll beneath the Bull.
  3. Apologies to anyone waiting on me to post right now- I'm not gone, just busy.  Will get to you as soon as I can!

    1. Art in Music

      Art in Music

      Looking forward to it! Good luck and don't fret too much over it.

  4. @LastLight Still here. Last week or so has been an utter bitch, so I haven't been posting too much, but I should have shit sorted out soon and hopefully be able to do more fights. If the second round starts revving up while I'm still busy, then I may be a little slower, but I'll try my best!
  5. interest check

    It's very much still an RPG- gameplay trailers have shown an expansive skill system allowing for a variety of builds, and the dialogue/negotiation aspects are definitely still going to be included. They're also bringing back planetary exploration from ME1, though this time apparently the truck won't be such a bitch to drive. You're more or less right on the plot: it basically revolves around a group of humans and aliens from the Milky Way galaxy who flew off to another one before the Reapers showed up and are now trying to colonize it. There likely won't be a 'narrator' voice for the series proper- the voices will all be characters in-story, much like the original games. The narration in that trailer was a female Shepard, but that was just Bioware as usual: since ME3 they've been switching between male and female protagonists in trailers, so people get to see both. The rest of the Andromeda trailers have been balanced between showing the male and female versions of Ryder, so it's not really pandering to anyone- more like showing everyone a bit of what they're after.
  6. interest check

    BFC was, and BFC has posted. Sorry for the wait. Been trying to get to this all week but life kept kicking my ass. That said, I'll hopefully be on top of things again next time my turn rolls around. Chronicles of Prydain, by Lloyd Alexander. He's a good author because his books tend to have cats in them.
  7. Only three kinds of people ever showed up at the edges of the Wastelands. The authorized, the lost, and the completely mad. Alkaev had been hoping for the second kind, they usually weren't much trouble. The Border Patrol would just tell them where they were, point them in the right direction, and then get back to the rest of their job. The woman who appeared from within the carriage claimed to be the first kind, though the Captain would need to look at her papers to be sure. Authorized personnel were a pain, since they usually needed escort and had a tendency to muck up affairs in the region with whatever meddling they'd come to do, but duty was duty, and that was all manageable. More concerning was the speed with which the woman had moved, something that made Alkaev's eyes narrow suddenly and fix upon Cecile as if she were about to catch fire. The powerful were always the worst. Thought themselves above the rules, and came whirling in like desert tornadoes to throw everything into chaos. She'd used to enjoy dealing with that kind, but glory was quick to lose its sheen, while the long tallies of Patrol casualties only grew longer. Still, sometimes a fight was inevitable, and going by what this Heika guy was saying it didn't seem things were going to go smoothly. Her eyes shifted back to him, staring him down. Hard to tell which of these strangers was the strongest, but that guy was definitely the most dangerous. Aggressive, an alpha wolf baring his teeth. If things went badly, he'd likely be the first to strike. The Captain kept her gaze level, her thin visage not displaying so much as a twitch of concern. "Well, if you want to be left alone I'd be happy to oblige- but we have our orders. You head around the border, or all six of you out here and whoever else's in that carriage line up and present us with written authorization to enter these lands." She tipped her head a little, a slight gesture of deference, though her eyes never left him. "Don't mean any disrespect to you, Lord Heika, but your titles don't mean much to us. This land belongs to the Terran empire, and that is the only authority we recognize." Power rippled out past her as she spoke, visible only to those with senses that extended to the esoteric. The source appeared to be one of the soldiers behind her, the dour-looking man, who was muttering almost silently to himself. Some kind of defensive spell, simple but definitely strong. Nobody had grabbed their weapons yet, and it was clear that the soldiers weren't going to attack unprovoked, but something had set them off. They were ready for trouble. One or two of them shifted on their horses, but otherwise everything was still. The air hot and dry, but not moving, as if the land itself were holding its breath. Alkaev a statue, irises gleaming like gemstones. A moment like a bomb, which a few words or a single gesture could either defuse or detonate, and change all their fates in one fell swoop. Which of these volatile travelers would be the one to do it?
  8. Good news was, apparently Vyne was concerned enough for Moreau's health to save him from a hard landing. Well, maybe a harder landing, since the landing he got turned out to be pretty damn painful regardless of last-minute interventions. It took him a moment to uncurl, a moment in which the thief dealt with several other men, before darting over to help the scholar stand. Smoke spread around them and Moreau coughed, squeezing his eyes shut to keep the stinging particles from getting in them. As it started to clear, however, he glanced behind and saw that they weren't immediately being followed. Though there were still some men uninjured enough to fight, the chaos spread by Vyne and Squagison had been enough to disorient them and break what little coordination they had. They'd regroup soon enough, no doubt- these were harder criminals than the ones who'd been chasing Moreau earlier -but for the moment, the trio had a head start. Hacking the last of the smoke out of his lungs, Moreau did his best to gasp out a few words as they raced away. "Bad people... on my tail. There'll be more, and much worse. Best not to leave too many traces, if we can." From this roof, he could already make out the train station, see the silvery tracks weaving through the buildings and out of the city. There was movement out there, a long set of carriages led by a powerful engine less than a mile off from the station and heading in the right direction- they had a ride, but the fight had cost them valuable time, and they'd need to move fast if they wanted to get out before their pursuers caught up again.
  9. For a moment, Moreau thought that he might slip and fall off the roof there and then, but Squagison was already running over, and offering a steel-plated hand to help him up. Gratefully, the scholar grabbed on, using the lift to swing his legs up and find his footing again. Part of him wanted to reflect on the fact that he'd almost died, or at least offer a word of thanks to the warrior for saving him again, but he never got the chance. Mere seconds after being pulled up, a fight was breaking out around him. Sprays of blood arced through the air, accompanied by sudden screams and clashing metal, and Moreau was left with no choice but to wrench his focus back to the threats in front of him and focus on survival. He wasn't an expert fighter like the other two, but he was smart enough to recognize where he'd be most useful. Vyne was darting around too fast for him to stand any chance to keep up with, but Squagison fought at a steadier pace, and Moreau used him for cover, keeping behind the larger man and letting him deal with the up-close threats. Though the first gun he'd picked up had been lost earlier, he soon snatched up another from one of the fallen thugs, and did his best to back up the others, taking shots where he could to cripple or distract their opponents. It felt almost like a dream. In some ways Moreau was in a state of shock, numb to all the madness and death around him as he simply fought to stay alive, pulse pounding so hard it nearly drowned out the noise of battle. He snapped out of it as someone grabbed him, and tried to jerk away, only to realize it was Squagison. "What are you-" He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence before they were flying through the air, leaping from one roof to the next. He yelped as they landed, disorientated even more by the sudden change of location. "Okay, okay, put me down now you- FUUUUUUCK!" He could only scream obscenities as he was hurled into the air yet again, this time towards the elf. Knowing what he did of Vyne, Moreau suspected that he might well not be caught, and drew his arms and legs in towards his body, bracing for a hard landing. A jump onto a train had sounded bad enough, but this was just insane!
  10. Once trouble had started, it really never stopped, did it? The rope swung and swayed as Moreau made his desperate way up, the tough fibers of it scratching and scraping against his hands. He grit his teeth, and kept on going. His upper-body strength might not have been the best, but adrenaline pushed him past his ordinary limits- the sound of a bullet whizzing right by his ear to bounce against a wall just a foot away was a damn good motivator. He climbed like all the demons of Athentha were after him, and after a few seconds he managed to haul his body up onto the rooftop and roll over, breathing heavily. "Fu-" He started, then cut himself off and took another deep breath before beginning again. "We should run. They'll know a way up here." Awkwardly, he shuffled forwards and stumbled to his feet, running as hard as he could over the sloping rooftops towards where Vyne had indicated the train station would be. He had a damn cramp now, his muscles burning up after all this punishment he was forcing through. He cursed aloud, spitting through his teeth as he pushed himself a few steps further forwards- -and stepped on a loose tile, that went skidding away beneath his feet. He toppled sideways, losing his balance and rolling towards the edge, his scrabbling fingers finding purchase only a moment away from the edge. His legs slid out into open air, dangling beneath him as he held on with both arms, straining to pull himself back up. "Could use... some help here!" His manners kicked in a moment later, undeterred by the threat of death, and he added a strained "Please!"
  11. The air that had been choked with dust following the Bull's explosive counterattack was slowly clearing, a light breeze carrying away the loose particles and revealing a few lonely figures, standing unharmed amidst the destruction. The drones had a clear view again, as well as the news cameras being set up a safe distance from the scene. The temporary lull in hostilities had given the world a glimpse of a scene going on within Manhattan, many buildings previously blocking their view now leveled, and already journalists and pundits were debating and postulating, gathering all the tiny scraps of knowledge they had to try and understand what had just happened- and more importantly, what was going to happen. The world watched, and held its breath. *** As the Bull unleashed his brief tirade, the officer and his squad stood firm, neither moving nor responding. Neither Violet nor any of her counterparts had the authority to act as a spokesperson, and the officer wasn't interested in chatter. His job had been to contain or kill the Bull, and now he had no job left to do. He looked almost empty, standing there as if he'd been turned to stone in the aftermath of the truce, perfectly still other than his cold eyes, which constantly followed the giant's movements. Its anger was concerning, but it wasn't doing any explicit harm, and to strike against it now would be to disobey orders. The officer was a pessimist, certain in his mind that humanity had to learn how to fight and defeat paranormal threats- but more than anything he was a military man, and he knew his duty. Where the Bull showed his irritation freely, this man kept his mind as cold as ice, stifling any emotions that might provoke a rash action. After loudly laying into him and his race in general, however, the Bull made a request, directed to Violet. She, however, turned to her superior, as any soldier would. Unlike him, her concern was writ clear across her features- but there was hope in there as well, that they might finally have found a way all this. The officer remained impassive, and took hold of his radio. "Relay a message to the commander in chief. The entity demands we feed it energy, says it can leave the planet if we comply. Requesting a decision, or permission to conduct negotiations personally. Over." Even as he spoke, he didn't take his eyes off the Bull. If the offer had been made earlier, he'd have simply responded, but now that the higher-ups were set on intervening he had to let them make a call. A battlefield he could handle, but this was closer to diplomacy, and that was one of the few things politicians were actually any damn good at. *** Mallory frowned, considering. The drone footage had made one thing clear: his orders had gone through, and he'd made the right call. The foreign entity had stopped attacking, and after several terrifying minutes there was finally some semblance of peace, of a situation under control. If that giant- alien, god, whatever it was -had chosen to stop fighting as well, that only confirmed it wasn't hostile. On the other hand, it had been the source of the explosion earlier, and even if it didn't mean to do harm, there was no guarantee that filling it with power wouldn't have even more devastating effects. That team had survived the blast, though, the U-ops squad and the commanding officer. There was a way around this, he knew it, and after just a moment of putting the pieces together, he came to his decision. Too much had been lost already. Any gain his country might make from trapping this entity would come at a cost too great to pay, and removing it from the playing field was the next best option. He spoke into a phone, his orders going to a communications specialist who in turn would relay it to the officer on the ground. "Tell the entity that we will comply. You are to transport it to a remote location- use the portals to get there quickly, if necessary -and then give it what it wants." It was still risky, but at least this way if the thing did blow up again it wouldn't do so in the middle of a major city. With any luck, it'd be telling the truth, and they could send it on its way without losing any more chunks of New York. *** The officer held his radio up to his ear, a voice crackling through it. His brow furrowed just slightly as he heard the President's decision, but his only response was a simple "Roger." It felt cowardly, in a way, to just let it go like this, but then he wasn't the one having to look at every lost life and ruined building as a personal cost. The officer's name and identity were classified, and it would be Mallory and the other top military figures whom the public would question and blame in the aftermath. He didn't envy them that fight. Quietly accepting this turn of events, he lowered his radio and opened his mouth to begin addressing the Bull- A three-foot long tungsten projectile, similar in structure to a harpoon, slammed into the giant from behind. The US military had decided to fold rather than try and stay in the game, but they weren't the only players with eyes on the foreign entity. The cloaked aircraft that had slipped into the airspace over Manhattan had been watching and waiting, silent and invisible, until the moment finally came to strike. It was still perfectly hidden from human eyes and devices- though Bull's senses might be able to faintly make it out -and the bolt it had fired traveled too quickly for even the fastest camera lenses to catch as more than a blur. In that moment, nobody knew what was going on, only that something had just happened, something that would throw all their predictions and orders and plans into chaos.
  12. Still here, of course. Not my turn in the hero thread so I'm focusing on a bunch of other projects for now (got lots of storyteller stuff to do), but I'm keeping an eye on it, and will be ready when the time comes.
  13. There she was, finally coming out of her wretched little dome. About damn time! The moment Elenwen appeared, Osa twisted her own body counterclockwise, drawing her left arm back while raising her right in front of her, unleashing two forms of magic at once to fuck with both her enemy's spells and the enemy herself. The first spell was passive, requiring little attention on Osa's part other than giving the 'go' signal. The biomass she'd built up in her right arm exploded outwards, expanding and hardening around the limb to form a massive, rounded shape. Her right hand and forearm had been buried in a bulging mass of exoskeleton, and Elenwen's 'scissors' would suddenly find a 'rock' between them and their target. Bony blade met bony shell and sliced into it, but Osa herself was safe for the moment. The second magic she'd unleashed was one that required a little egging as it surged forth towards Elenwen in the form of a fast-moving surge of black smoke, homing in on her location. The scissors had cut through a sizeable portion of the net, and a moment's struggle would likely have been enough to shrug it off- but a moment was all the aura blast needed to reach its target. All the darkness was just for effect, really, it wouldn't hurt anyone. Not directly, at least. It could, however, yank damn hard, and as soon as it touched Elenwen it would pull her straight towards the sharp points of Osa's extended nails, which had been exposed as she pulled her left arm back. No convenient shield to stop the fivefold impalement this time! Meanwhile, the bone scissors had actually made some progress against Osa's exoskeletal club-hand. Tough as it was, she hadn't put as much power into it as Elenwen had into her attack, and the blades were slowly but surely cleaving through it towards her arm. Or were they? Had she not been concentrating on murdering the fuck out of Elenwen and keeping herself alive, Osa might have laughed. Of all the things that her enemy could attack her with, she'd chosen bone. Against a biomancer. The blades were sinking through her armor, to be sure, but for every inch they moved they'd become a little less independent, a little more part of her. She already had plenty of osteoclasts within her body, and it cost her little to replicate them at terrifying rates around the bone scissors, breaking the weapons down with supernatural efficiency. The white blades might have been deadly, but they were were biomass, the very foundation of Osa's magic, and this crazy bitch had just fed them to her. Her eyes narrowed, and a terrifying grimace split her jaw and nose, extending wider than should have been possible. "Thanks for that." Already, the bone scissors were retracting into her arm, merging with the rest of her flesh, and now all of it- club, blades, even the meat that had comprised her arm in the first place -was shifting, squirming, moving up towards her shoulder. Whether or not Elenwen had been stabbed five times by Osa's first counterattack, this next one was gonna be a doozy.
  14. As Vyne and Squagison started to voice their plan, Moreau went pale, his eyes going wider and wider with every word. They were insane. They had to be completely insane. All this about climbing around on rooftops and jumping onto trains, didn't they know a thing about proper caution? At this rate they'd die before they even left the city! He corrected himself. They wouldn't die, since they were the kind of people who spent their lives doing crazy things like fighting dragons and dodging bullets. He'd even seen the elf backflip forwards just now- he hadn't even known that was possible! Someone like him, however, was absolutely screwed. He'd never performed anything close to the kind of acrobatics they were talking about. On the other hand, he'd never fired a gun at another person before today, and now he had. He'd also never embarked on a quest for legendary treasures before today, and look at him now! If he was going to stand any chance of surviving this whole endeavor, he'd need to change, and that started now. The elf's dismissive tone at the word humans only strengthened Moreau's resolve: he'd show that scoundrel what he was capable of. Narrowing his eyes and raising his chin a little, he cut in on their conversation. "I'll do it." He glanced at Squagison. "Thanks for your offer, but I think I can handle a bit of legwork." Nodding, more to himself than to them, he turned and began striding down the street in the direction Vyne had indicated. "We don't have time to waste standing around. If there's any other details I need to know, we can cover them as we move." Pride hadn't been the only reason he'd agreed to the crazy plan with the trains. Those thugs who'd been after him earlier had fled a few minutes back, but they'd be returning soon enough, and they wouldn't be alone. He needed to get out of the city as fast as possible, or his enemies would find his trail. They might not have the map, but if they could track him down they wouldn't need it.
  15. TBH I don't mind people tossing Moreau around a bit in physical combat, since he's kind of weak in that aspect anyways. He's no good at fighting so I don't mind too much if people run rings around him in their posts (so long as you don't do anything extreme like killing him without giving me a chance to reply). That said, I will be introducing some more competent and dangerous characters as we go along. I'd advise against taking them lightly.