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Mickey Flash

Show Me the Way to go Home [Lo'Bre City]

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Lorial had never been to Lo'Bre before.  It was a bigger city than she was used to frequenting.  There was a harbor full of traders and hawkers, as well as ships with loads of goods inside.  She had been a passenger on one of these ships, and was just glad to be on land again.  She was a strong female, and could handle most any situation, but there was something hard to handle about being stuck at sea with no escape except the water.  The ship couldn't have docked sooner. 

The warehouses lines the wharf and were large and plenty.  She had never seen so many rich buildings all huddled together, as if asking for someone to come steal from them.  She had a bit of a sticky finger issue, and was tempted to see if she could put them to good use, but she could see some military types walking around and she thought better of it.  She didn't want to get into any kind of trouble while she was here.  At least, not yet. 

Taking a stroll into the center of town, away from the fish smell of the sea, she could hear blues playing from a local bar.  The music was wonderful, and Lorial couldn't help but be drawn to it.  She strolled on into the tavern, her black boots clicking in rhythm with the beat of the music as she walked into the establishment.  Eyes turned her way, and what they saw was confidence, beauty, and a lack of concern for those who seemed to be interested.  She leaned onto the bar, and shouted to the bartender for a vodka, in order to be heard above the band. 

Spoiler

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She paid her coin, turn and leaned her elbows against the bar, and listened to the band with a little smirk on her face.  Her foot was tapping, and her head was bobbing in time with the beat.

A loud crash came through the door, and a scream pierced the air.  The music played on for a second or two, probably used to loud skirmishes that quickly got resolved.  This one didn't though, as crashes and screams were heard.  Lorial pushed from the bar in alarm, ready to defend herself if need be.  The view that greeted her were pirate types, fighting the patrons and ruining the lovely blues music she had been enjoying.  Most were human, but she could see that not all were.  Fists flew and grunts and yells were given as the sound of steel on steel could be heard. 

Spoiler

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Lorial would have sat back and snacked on popcorn watching the fun fight scene, if someone had not tried to stab her with a sword.  She grabbed the sword with her bare hands and bent the metal.  One pirate nearby took notice of her ability to bend steel and whistled for someone outside.  Lorial was prepared to be attacked by a swarm of pirates, but instead only one came in.  He was thin and pale, and he had a grace about the way that he walked that warned Lorial that he was an 'other' of some sort.  She made a fighting stance, ready to do battle.  He grinned and then quick as a flash she felt the cold metal around her neck click into place.  What had he done?  Given her a necklace?  She appreciated the gesture, but really didn't want it.  She grabbed the metal and made as if to rip it off of her neck.  She couldn't budge it.  She tugged as hard as she could, but still could not budge it. 

"What have you put on my neck, ass hole?" she said as she got more and more pissed trying to jerk off the metal.  He laughed and watched.  She made a swing at him, ready to flatten him, but the strike was woefully pathetic and didn't even hit anywhere near him.  He took one finger and flicked it against her forehead.  Lorial was knocked backward by the tiny tap, and she saw only darkness after that. 

@TheWilySpookster 

@Rin

@Animal

@Jotnotes

Edited by Mickey Flash

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Chrysillia had left the Hiveworld nearly a month ago. 30 rotations. That's how long she'd been without seeing her own kin, or feeling the comforting prescence of the Matriarch in the frontmost part of her head. Her new form, firm and constant, had taken a great deal of patience for her to finally become accustomed to, but by now, she felt like she understood most of its functions and quirks. Heat, Cold, Hunger, Thirst, Pain; she was essentially a veteran on her own body. This was a plus for her, as most soldiers are wont to be as familiar with their own physiology as possible. That's what the people of this timeline said, at least, right?

Know thy enema. Anenome. Anatomy.

 

Yeah, that was the one.

However, it was also a month with no progress. Upon her arrival, she had done little to learn of the Calamity that the Matriarch had spoken of. She had no way of knowing where the Calamity would come from, or what the catalyst would be. The sense of unease that she'd only just become familiar with crept into her brain more often than ever as of late. Only recently, when she thought she'd heard the cry of the Hive in her sleep, did she finally decide that some progress had to be made.

A quaint little city lay not too far from her current hideout. She didn't go there often, as she felt it was simply too dangerous to intrude on another Hive unwelcome. At least, that was her first impression. She'd observed thousands of people flowing in and out of the city at will, of varying shapes and sizes. Seeing the autonomy of her newly chosen people inspired her, to some degree. Now, in the creeping hours of the evening, she had decided that progress could only be made if she sought out people who could help her. The Calamity needed to be stopped.

---

"Where can I find the source of the Calamity?" She tapped on another man's shoulder, repeating the question. He pulled away and barked at her in his native tongue. She let her arm drop, perplexed. Nobody in this city knew of the Calamity. Nobody had even tried to help her understand what she was talking about. They'd all pulled away, yelled at her or said some things that only served to fuel her growing list of academia that she failed to understand. Her previous conversation had ended with her walking away, simply because she couldn't understand the man's meaning.

"I was certain that man was going to help me." She mused, finding a seat at a watering hole to call her own. "He had said 'meet me behind this building if you're feeling up to a little toss'." She wasn't quite sure why his mates had laughed at that, or why people's gaze constantly moved to her body when they said such things. She was positive she could have given him what he'd wanted, however. She was good at throwing things.

"What'll you have, toots?" The gruff looking bartender asked her, looking her up and down with a careless stare. 

It took her a moment to realize that the man had called upon her. She took several looks around, trying to find whom he had spoken to, and eventually met his stare with confused eyes. 

"My name is not 'Toots'" She replied steadily, eyeing his own body. This was a custom of some sort, surely. Stare them down, appraise their figure. This is how you met new people. After giving him the once-over, she added, with a certain degree of uncertainly.

"I seek a great evil. Could you please help me find it?"

To her great astonishment, the barkeep nodded and reached for a mug. 

"You're a fan of tequila, then. Good choice. I don't know how well your kind can hold liquor, though." He filled a cup with a thin, strong smelling mix of some strange fluid--tequila presumably--and some much richer, much thicker substance. She took a wary sip of the mix, and her eyes lit up. Honey. She quickly drained the remnants of her cup, spilling a bit of the drink on her shining armor. She stood, suddenly feeling more aloof. 

"That'll be 3 pieces, girlie." The bartender chuckled, impressed by her dexterity. She was stumped, again. She wasn't sure what these pieces were, but she was certain she didn't have any. She shrugged, helplessly, and tried to explain. Her mind began to grow cloudy, and she found herself being forced to find the right words a bit more.

"I do not...I have no...maybe we could..." She shook her head. She needed to get away from here. Something was terribly wrong. She stumbled from the table, the fogginess in her mind beginning to effect her motor functions considerably. Staggering, she reached a building, a glorious constant in this spinning world. She rested both arms against it, staring at the floor as she took several breaths. Things could not be slowed. She stayed in place, hoping to recover from whatever poison she'd drank, taking deep breaths, spitting out her honey-flavoured saliva and making gentle noises of distress. 

And then, from the blurred reality that was the now, she felt a cruel cold around her collar. She snapped to attention, and spun on her heels, trying to determine what-or who-had touched her neck at this most vulnerable of states. The spin caused another bout of dizziness, and she stumbled and collapsed. Before Chrysillia passed out, she saw the boots of passerby, but no sign of the calamity here, either.

Edited by Jotnotes

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Zander made it to Lo'bre by happenstance, much like how he got anywhere. The premise wasn't too different than most: Man wants power, makes pact with a living weapon, realizes what he's become after about 3 weeks, wants to break the pact, Zander states he needs to give up his arm for wasting the living weapon's time, client refuses, living weapon takes his life. It wasn't anything new the process just got annoying after a while, those short pacts. Why couldn't somebody just take the pact and keep it for about 6 months at least? Zander thought this new generation of humanity was losing its backbone, not taking enough risks. But these were just complaints that came with the job.

Left without much to do in the port town, Zander decided to take a leisurely stroll to find some unwitting fool willing to take him. His mannequin's feet clicked against the wooden sidewalk as it stumbled down the street. As he walked, he saw what appeared to be a homeless man draped in ragged robes outside of a tavern. Broke and drunk, perfect. He was barely two yards away from the bum when his catch was swiftly taken from him, a pirate-type fellow sliced him down. Shocking, but not unusual, at least until the noise escalated. Scanning about the area with his single bloodshot eye, Zander saw the little port in the midst of a massive swashbuckling.

The mannequin lowered its massive weapon, nobody needed to see the Sanguine Edge in public in the midst of a raid like this. Zander searched for the safest route out of the open and began scooting away from the madness. Unfortunately, he was tackled from behind, a very unfortunate blind spot. Zander shifted his eye to the opposite side of his blade, staring at his aggressor. He was just as raggedy as the bum that just died. "Get the fuck off of me, worm!" Zander put on his angry voice for this encounter. However, instead of fear, a sense of awe washed over his assailant's face. He picked up The Sanguine Edge, much to Zander's dismay. He hated having a price on his head and that seemed to be the most likely solution. The pirate hoisted Zander's mannequin over his free shoulder and ran towards the docks. Chances are this wouldn't end well for him.

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Lo'bre was something that didn't be quite understandable to the half breed as she walked through its forest. She was heading into town. Somewhere where she could find someone who could help her find her way around.

That wasn't to be. As she soon as she entered the town, which had been after ten minutes, a group of pirate bandits surrounded her. The half breed had fought off the first group with ease. 

However the second batch wasn't as lucky.

Rin tilted her head as it was outnumbered six to one. She tried her hardest to fight them off as one came up behind her and hit her in the back of the head. 

She went crashing to the ground. One of the pirates picking her up and carried her into the boat with the other captures. 

The half breed woke a few minutes later as she muttered low.

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The 5 AM Blues Lounge had its fair share of business regardless of the work day with foreign traders and adventurers stopping in to enjoy some music and a fine drink.  In order to stand out from their competition within Lo'Bre, the owner also found it appropriate to seek out staff members that would draw as much attention as the band on stage did.  After doing a bit of searching, eventually he crossed paths with a strange creature who was working the bar of a rival establishment with blood red skin, two horns, and a long prehensile tail.  Regardless of whether or not this owner was familiar with the Terran legend of a blues musician who sold his soul to the devil at the crossroads, the young demon named Seregon received a new job and a substantial pay increase.

--

Seregon's head was pulsing today as he came into work, nursing the after-effects of a long day of work and drinking the night before.  He could almost feel the blood coursing through his temples to the steady rhythm of his heart, trying to salvage the remnants of his concentration and focus at his current tasks of pouring drinks and making small talk.  He had been working behind the bar for a couple months now, taking note of the regulars, their usual beverages, and their exciting tales.  Customers were initially put off by his otherworldly appearance, but after a quick exchange and a few wisecracks, they were ordering seconds and thirds without much prejudice.

Today seemed a little different to the red demon with a peculiar variety of foreigners stopping in to enjoy the band on stage.  A pale woman with raven black hair shouted over to him for a vodka just as he was getting to the punchline of one of his favorite jokes with one of the regulars, positively ruining the timing.  He tried his best to be cordial, keeping it quiet and professional as he collected her coin and prepared her drink.  Figuring she would want it neat, and in a sole act of defiance as the server, he placed a single ice cube in the otherwise clear glass of alcohol.  As he presented the beverage as if it were an offering to the gods, his tail delivered a wicker basket of popcorn along with it.  In this way, Seregon thought that he would avoid being shouted at to be provided another task.  Maybe it was the hangover that had left him so offended?

Just as he had moved a hand through his hair to massage away the pulsations splitting his brain in half, Seregon's listless gaze snapped into focus on another specimen walking about the bar.  This creature looked unlike any other humanoid he had yet seen and was accompanied by equally puzzling behavior.  He watched her interrogate a customer who was enjoying the music, asking about 'Calamity.'  No sooner had he begun silently pondering what she meant as he poured another regular a beer, she was right in front of him.

"What'll you have, toots?"  Seregon said, focusing more on containing any spillage from the pilsner in his hand as he delivered it down the bar than on the lady.

"My name is not 'Toots.'  I seek a great evil.  Could you please help me find it?"

Seregon froze for a moment at her mention of 'great evil,' his mind in its decrepit state racing for some reason why he was still breathing.  Here, a devil was serving a busy bar of patrons and one of the customers was basically reading him his last rights.  He could feel his throat go dry as a new pain started accruing on the bridge of his nose, his chest tightening in panic.  He acted as calmly as he could as he nodded quickly and reached for a mug, trying to think of the best segue from the topic.

"You're a fan of tequila, then."

"I hope," he muttered under his breath,

"Good choice.  I don't know how well your kind can hold liquor, though,"

"Please, not very well, please, not very well," he continued quietly.  

Seregon wasn't taking any chances with the insectoid warrior before him, grabbing the strongest tequila they had behind the counter and masking its potency with a little bit of lemon juice and a tablespoon of honey.  He was no stranger to the fact that he stood little to no chance against anyone sober.  As she downed the beverage quickly, his whole body seemingly sighed in relief at the sight, forgetting for a second that there was still a business transaction to attend to.

"That'll be three pieces, girlie."  Seregon said as calmly as he could.  The chances were looking better and better that he was going to make it through the day and not be smote while he was at work.  

"I do not...I have no...maybe we could..."  The girl said.

It was hard for him to believe what was even happening as the insectoid lady stumbled away from the bar, holding on to a stool with all her might.  He hadn't considered whether or not her metabolism was several magnitudes higher than his or if that tequila was too strong to serve.  

Before he could ask someone to see if she was alright, the commotion of a fight quickly filled the air along with the clashing of weapons.  Just as Seregon reached for a bottle of vodka to ignite in his hand, a foreign object collided right into his temple, compounding his hangover and causing reality to fade into the distance.  In his final moments, he could feel a cold metal object wrap around his neck like a metal snake finishing its prey before a large meal.
 

Edited by Seyge

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-- Prior to the event --

A loud yawn was heard through the empty halls of the "Sleeping Giant". A yawn that reached through the whole ship, echoing through the halls. The captain has woken up from his deep slumber. Sitting in his throne with a big mug on the floor. He grumbles as he raises his big hand and strokes down his face to take away any droll that had slipped out of his mouth, thankfully there was none. Redbeard sleeps in the food hall on his big throne made out of wood and covered with blood red pillows. Since such a giant man had no space for bed his size and he had already gotten used to having no bed after all years on the sea. The crew even had grew accustom seeing the sleeping captain in the dining hall early in the morning. Feeling safe that such a giant man was defending the halls. The crew already had started to gather around the big dinning hall for breakfast, talking and cheering together as they sailed underwater. The yawn of the giant made everyone turn around to him with big eyes.

Redbeard fixed his position and picked up the empty mug, hovering it over his mouth to see if there was anything. There wasn't a single drop left, for shame. The man grumbles and places his mug down onto the floor. What a good way to start a day, by having nothing in the mug. "Come on lad's! Where are the tunes when you nee them, eh?" He calls into the dinning room, there were some few tired grumbles heard. But one of the people who could actually play stood up and played his violin. It was not that catchy and was only there to keep something going. "There we go! Now this is a good way to start a day! Aye Jimmy! Fill my mug so I have something to drink today will ya?." He says with a laugh, grabbing the mug and reaches over to kitchen. The cook just snorts as a response and lifts up a keg, pouring it into his mug, Filling it to the brim.  What a good way to start the morning! "Cheers sailors!" He shouts into the hall and lifts his mug. All the others lifted theirs that was filled with clean water. Seems Redbeard was the only one having alcohol this morning. The giant was now scratching his beard, wondering what he was doing last night. But even as he wondered, he started to remember quickly. He had planned something in the ports of Lo'Bre. He had made a deal with a enchant merchant who sold him anti-magic collars, at least 6 in total. He doesn't really remember how that many. So he now plans to send his men to get it and get him some people to eat magic out of. Or just slaves to sell, they could always be sold on a good price. "Now where my bloody first mate, eh?" He calls out to his crew to see if he was there somewhere. His eyes were still adjusting to the lights in the dinning hall. "Jack Jones!" He calls out with anger. Surprised that his first mate wasn't up and ready! His first mate should always be ready be his side early in the mornings!

Soon after the call, a man walked slowly into the halls. His hands in his pockets and knife in his holster. He looks up to him and says. "Yes captain?" with a raised eyebrow. Probably thinking that the old bean bag wanted from him, because far as he know. He was a merchant that he hired after he killed his former first mate, killed by Jack Jones himself. And doing so on his own bloody ship! He likes people like that and instantly gained respect for him. The giant grumbles and slams his fist into his wooden chair. "I have a mission for you, Jack. We will be porting to Lo'Bre soon." He explains before taking a sip from his morning grog. Oh how this tastes good. The burning feeling going down his throat, just making him want to shiver. "And I want you and my men to go in there and catch me the most strange, bizarre and strong people or races. But don't worry! I've made sure you can get them back here, for I have bought anti-magic amulets just for this instance!" He says with a chuckle and now leans onto his wooden throne of pillows. They were quite comfortable as always. "I'll give you the location of the merchant and the payment for it." He says as he then lifts his back up, leaning and looking down onto Jack. "You can use any method. Just bring them alive and in front of me. Can I trust you on that?"  Redbeard asks with a raised eyebrow. He was giving him a lot of trust with those amulets. Because they were rather valuable, and it was hard to force the merchant to give them. So the merchant gave them on a huge discount. Jack just smirked himself and nods towards his captain. Seems he understood his order. "Yes captain, you'll be having your prisoners in no time since I am on the case. And your breath stinks by the way" Jack says with a disgusted look and tone. Turning around and walks away from Redbeard. Now going somewhere to some place on the ship. Now he just had to play the waiting game. Maybe he could play some chess with some of his crew?

------

Edited by TeddySpearson

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          Morning began with a shout from his newly found boss. It happened unexpectedly, to be put here in this scenario with this giant of a man. And for what? Jack killed his first mate. Instead of trying to kill him, he hired him. In the short term, it's probably for the better, especially after seeing what Redbeard was capable of. And even though money has been his priority, he wished his morning wouldn't start getting yelled at by a giant already drinking that vile substance. Slowly, he propped himself up, trying to wake himself up sooner then expected. He couldn't find a spot to sleep last night because of the ruckus of the party. The smell. The smell was horrendous, too. He felt a small knot form in his throat at the thought of the stench of alcohol. After finally making it to Redbeard he responded, "Yes, captain?" To which Redbeard gave him a mission, a capturing mission. Even though his lip didn't show it, he was happy. Anything to get away from the stench of alcohol this early in the morning. "All I have to do is just capture people alive using the anti-magic collars? Hmm, haven't seen those before." After Redbeard gave him the location of the merchant and the money he set off. "Yes Captain, you'll be having your prisoners in no time since I am on the case." He paused for a moment, the smell of alcohol became apparent suddenly with how close he was to Redbeard. Once he caught a whiff, his face reacted in disgust. "And your breath stinks by the way." He turned and left right after. Once he picked up the collars for the mission given to him he went back to the chip to organize a plan. Once his plan was set he shared the plan with Redbeard.

          They decided to swarm the town, mainly around the taverns about an hour or two before sundown. He hoped that would be a good time to catch the most people. Once the time came Jack sent the order out to all the crews and they began the attack. He happened upon a few interesting characters himself. Two of them were especially easy pray, one was an insectoid that looked like she had too much to drink, and the other was a demon. The third one he found interested him the most. While he was outside, he heard one of his mates shout about someone bent one of their metal swords barehanded, easily. A grin grew on his face as he breathed in. "This will be enough to capture her, hopefully." he whispered under his breath. His skin began to fade as he stepped into the building. Once he spotted her he knew. He deftly planted one of the collars around her neck. "What have you put on my neck, asshole!?" The women said. He was surprised at how pathetic the punch she threw was and laughed at it. "Let's test this out." He approached her and with a single flick, down she went. Surprise overwhelmed his face. "Damn, I can't believe that worked!" He glanced around, still surpried, as his crewmates. "Hell, those things work. Made her powerless." He chuckled. "Let's head back to the ship. Between me and the rest of the crew, we should have enough to please Redbeard."

          Once they gathered back out the ship he places all of the captures in the room before Redbeard. "Quite the catch, eh?" He laughed. "So... Now we wait 'til they wake up." He thought for a moment, "Then what?" He questioned Redbeard. "Maybe we could sell 'em? Maybe force 'em to be crewmates?" He shrugged, not really worried about what Redbeard had in store for them. "As long as I get paid, I couldn't care less what happens to 'em." They waited until the catch stirred.  To pass the time he invited some of the crewmates to a game of poker. One of them made some noise as they awoke, slowly. He turned, hoping it was the last women he caught. His interest in her was apparent. Something else caught his eye, though. A wooden mannequin. 'Was that there before?' He thought. He shouted for a crewmate and asked. To which he responded 'Yes.' He walked closer to it for inspection and also saw a interesting weapon near it. The same crew-member tacked on that the weapon was with it and said that the weapon actually spoke, insulted him even. Jack went to touch the weapon for further inspection when he heard some noise behind him. He turned to the noise and walked over to the one waking. "Hey Redbeard!"  He shouted. "Quit drinkin' so damn much and get over here!"

Edited by FMPuppet
Some Zander specific edits.

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Lorial woke up with a splitting headache.  She'd never had one of those before, since she'd always immediately healed from all of her injuries.  She moaned in pain.  There was noise everywhere, and though it sounded loud to her aching head it wasn't nearly as loud as it should be.  Her hearing....... was dampened.  So it seemed were all of her vampire and nymph qualities.  She took stock of herself and her surroundings.  She wasn't injured badly, as far as she knew.  She just had the pain in the head.  And she was inside some kind of room.  There was shouting outside, some angry, and some amused.  The voices were rough and uncultured.  She looked around the room, and could see all the clues of being in a ship cabin.  The furniture was nailed down to the floor, and there weren't any unnecessary decorations or knickknacks laying around.  She looked over to the closest chair, and could see that it was huge taking up quite a bit of space in the cabin.  Sitting upon it was a giant of a man.  He had red hair and a red beard.  Other than being so large, he looked like your common variety pirate. 

She looked around her on the floor, and could see other people that seemed to be in the same position she was.  There were many silver collars around their necks, and she guessed this was the cause for the lack of her abilities.  There were different species before her.  She wished she had her keen vampire olfactory senses, so she could scent the different species.  Instead she would have to rely on her dampened senses.  There were a couple of horned species, and one that looked kind of normal (though there was a bit of hardened-like covering all over her person), and then there was a mannequin holding a pole with a blade on the end.  A strange decoration, to be sure. 

The man standing in front of her wasn't near as large as the one seated in the large chair.  He was the man who'd collared her, and knocked her ass out afterward.  She gave him a squinted evil look, though it held less strength due to the fact that her abilities were gone and she was as weak as a human.  She needed to get out of the collar, and by the looks of some of the other creatures it seemed they might be able to help her escape as well, if their collars were removed.  She pulled and tugged at the offending metal, disappointed that it wouldn't budge.  She wasn't discouraged yet, for she planned to do everything she could to get out of this mess. 

"What the fuck is going on?" she questioned angrily.  Her teeth were bared, but sadly it showed only her small human-like nubs of teeth.  "Why do I have this thing on my neck?"  She looked at him smirking over at her, and growled.  "Come take this thing off and then we'll see who's grinning in the end," she threatened.  She wished it carried more weight, but she doubted it would.  She let out a frustrated sigh, lifting stray black strands of hair from in front of her face.  She stood up, and put her hands on her hips.  She didn't try to strike anyone this time.  She'd learned her lesson from the last attempt she had made.  "So, you put these power sucking collars on us to break us?  I'm not so easily broken."  She wasn't really sure about that anymore, but she wasn't in the mood to beg and plead for her life. 

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Chrysilla stirred, and immediately wished she hadn't. Everything spun underneath her, like an unending swell of uneven sand that she couldn't find the end of. She struggled to raise her head from the earth, head spinning. She fretted to herself as she collapsed again, fearful that the man running the stand had done something dreadful to her. She certainly hoped not. He was very kind, offering her such a rich tasting beverage. Surely a villain wouldn't have it in them to cater so kindly to a thirsty hero. Yet, the evidence pointed to him being the likely culprit, from the drink, to the spinning earth to the cold steel clamp around her neck. 

The clamp. She groped her body blindly, finding the clamp still stuck fast around her. Feeling the cool metal on her hands, she attempted to wrench it from her body, but to no success at first. In her bid at freedom, she sat upright, tugging with both hands with such ferocity she could almost feel the matriarch smiling at her duty. 

Then her hands slipped and she smacked herself in the face on accident, knocking herself down once more. Ouch.

Well, she certainly could not remove this...piece of finery, she supposed. Some revelation was given to her as she lay against the floor, however, as she realized that her head wasn't churning, and neither was the floor. Rather, the churning came from beneath the floor. Water. Waves. She was at sea, somehow. Chrysilla had been near the Hiveworld's watering hole once before, where they observed one of the hardier species of her planet, the trymeridion, wading through the waters. Its wake had left an impressive wash that splashed against her body whenever she drew close.

These waves, however, seemed much too frequent, much too strong. She was clearly not in the watering hole. 

Voices were familiar now, her ears accustomed to the world around her once they could no longer hear the buzz of the hivemind. Several voices, all loud and boisterous, could be heard from afar, while she was also familiar with a louder, if more shrill voice nearby. She looked towards the source, just as the culprit stared back. 

Chrysilla froze. She wore one of the collars as well. Was she somehow related to her capture? Her gaze swept past the Hero, however, and Chrysilla found herself looking around too. Bodies lie here, in disgruntled heaps or on the floor. They all bore collars, save for an odd man that was grinning at the other woman.

"Excuse me? Could you tell me how I got on board?" Her voice was clear, and full of hope. While being aided in her time of need was pleasant, she truly needed to return to her quest. She doubted that any great evil lurked upon the seas.

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There are certain...conditions with being a living weapon. First is the lack of senses, you can barely interact with the world around you without outside influence. Zander was thankful he could see and taste to an extent. Another is that you have a very poor center of balance, basically making you gravity's bitch. Both of these became relevant to Zander as he rocked on the ship as the waves carried it.

"I'm sorry, but I believe there's been a terrible mistake." Zander's limited telepathy could reach out to everyone in the room. As he spoke, his mannequin contorted upwards lifting the Sanguine Edge to a more suitable position. The scythe opened its bloodshot eye and scanned the area of the room. He was clearly in an odd dining/recreational room surrounded by pirates in front of him and various foreign individuals to his sides. Perhaps the raid was centered around them as the various humanoids all wore a visibly similar collar on their necks. Thankfully whoever brought him in wasn't dumb enough to put one on his mannequin.

"This isn't my boat out of Lo'Bre!" He playfully said, primarily addressing the pretty boy in the front and the mass of lard behind him. He couldn't smell, but he was pretty sure that the sleeping giant had an odor to him. "Now I don't suppose any of you fine individuals know who I am, certainly not you Prince Charming since you tried to make contact." Zander attempted to seem intimidating as he spoke, sharpening his tone as his words bounced around in the minds of the crowded room. However, his mannequin could barely stand as the waves rocked. Stumbling around, the weapon conitinued, "I can also assume that since I'm on this side of the room, you want something from us- Goddammit!" He had completely fallen over at this point, smacking into the devilish person with the side of the blade, not deadly but definitely enough blunt force to be a rude awakening. The Sanguine Edge sighed and rolled it's eye, balance would be a real issue on this ship. With very few options, Zander addressed the others. "Excuse me, but can somebody with a collar please hold me up while I talk? I have severe balance issues."

Edited by Animal

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Rin rubbed her head as she woke up slowly. Whoever did this to her would not live to see another day the moment she was freed. Touching her neck she found a collar around it. An anti magic collar. 

Grand.

The half breed noticed the bodies around her as they were all captured together. She sighed.

"Who captured us? And for what purpose? I swear I'm going to tear them all apart once I can stand again."

The half breed sighed.

"I'm Rin, who are you people?"

The half breed noticed the different kinds of people here. All different races caught by a bunch of pirates. And why? What did they want with them? She didn't know but she was upset.

And an upset half breed wasn't good.

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He was in a void.  A place of neither black nor white.  There was no suffering and there was no happiness, and everything simply wasn't.

In this nonexistence, something began to happen slowly.  It started with a rhythmic pulse centering around an orb, building in crescendo slowly as it all began to take form.  Nothing could be seen yet, but the void swelled and shrunk with a rediscovered sensation of breathing, analyzing a new environment and discovering the smell of salt, wood, and alcohol.  As if on cue, another sensation echoed throughout nothing, creating the sounds of water and the sounds of struggling timber.  Voices piped up in short melodies over the ambiance, making the pulse stronger and more frequent.  The pulses were at the front of the orb--the head--beating with the rest of its circuit as everything started coming into focus for the young demon.  

Seregon opened his eyes slowly as his final sense came into play, his mind racked from the concussive blow he sustained at the bar.  A number of equally bewildered-looking people seemed bound just as he was in this new environment, representing a strange conglomeration of races and--seeing the mannequin and weapon-- things.  Instead of displaying any outward panic, the demon sat silently, struggling against his restraints as he attempted to break them without purchase.  As much as he would try to flex and tense up to release himself, they only served to tire him and make his wrists sore.  In front of their alleged capturers, he figured there was no sense trying for the strange collar around his neck.  Still, he placed his two cuffed hands on his collar, attempting to melt it in flame.  Nothing.

Whoever his captors were, they had some vague understanding of who he was or what he was to give him  additional restraints.  Perhaps they had frequented the bar before, or asked the regulars about him, the demon mused internally.  As he contemplated the circumstance leading to his capture, he was interrupted with a blunt epiphany.

'Right.  I don't exactly 'fit in,''  he concluded, moving his red tail behind slowly back and forth.

There wasn't any reason yet, he figured, to inquire further than what the three women and the weapon had postulated to the entire group.  Instead, Seregon used these idle moments now to get a better understanding of his fellow captives.  Each of them seemed capable, powerful people compared to himself, and he didn't want to ruin any notion that he shouldn't be labeled the same.  Since he had given up on breaking himself free at the moment, the demon simple took on his best seated posture he could, moving his shoulders back and looking forward at the people before him.  A small portion of his mind reasoned that if he looked tough, perhaps he didn't need them to discover that he wasn't.

Wait.

Seregon's gaze turned ever so slowly over to a strange woman next to him with chitinous skin--or a carapace of some kind-- he wasn't exactly sure what the appropriate terms would be anymore.  His occupation as a bartender meant that he had seen innumerous people on a daily basis, but this woman had left a recent enough impression to stand out.  She was a patron.

Was everyone else?  Seriously?!

Payday was tomorrow.

Seregon muttered a curse to himself as quietly as he could, fuming.

Edited by Seyge

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The room that they were put in was a giant dinning room for the whole crew. It is shaped like a 3/4 of a circle, the walls are made of pure metal, but the floor is made of fine wood. Dining tables made out of lumber with metal covering around the edges. The stools made from wood and each had a red pillow on it's own. The kitchen was in the left corner of the room, having one door and a whole window to get food from. The best kind of setup for such a big boat. At the edge of the hall, there is a throne which Redbeard sits on as they waited. Sitting with his hands on the arms of his throne. Staring at them with a glare and eyes filled with pure interest. The throne is made of the finest and cleanest wood there is  and covered with red pillows, sewed with craftsmanship to make it more comforting. Because after all, Redbeard sat there for the whole journey most of the time, if not, the whole time. They were all close by the throne, sitting on the floor with some pillows. All 6 of them were surrounded by a crew of 65. Even though he ordered them to be captured, he wanted them to be in good shape for what was about to come, hench the pillows. Redbeard himself had woken up from his slumber and was sober already. He hated this sometimes, he drank a whole keg of grog. "Fuck off with your none-alchohol mouth Jack Jones!" He shouts with anger. He didn't care if Jack didn't like alcohol. He could not tell him to stop drinking some grog! But he calmed down soon after and blinks his eyes fast and lifts his upper-body up.

He had set his eyes onto the people whom where captured right as he saw them. The whole crew had gathered into the dinning hall, playing poker, eating and staring at what was before them; A demon, a female, a humanoid bee, mannequin with a strange weapon and a wood elf. What was most interesting about them was that each one of them had something about them. The demon was of course red and was apparently a bartender. How anyone would accept a demon was beyond him, they looked hideous and were evil far as he knew. The next was a generic female, at least from the looks of it. He was told this woman could break a sword with her fingers and he knew that his first mate had already set his eyes on her, by her response and his smirk. Next up was a bee who was looking for great evil for one reason or another. But she was rather interesting, did she behave like a bee as well? He needed to know more about it. Then there was a mannequin and a weapon with an eye. Probably cursed or something from the looks of it. Who would even want such a long stick, it was only going to get in the way! Finally there was the elf. Last time he heard, they were filled with magic, making her a perfect dinner for his body. He was already getting water in his mouth of the thought.

The prisoners were already asking questions. The giant of a man says to them with his deep and bellowing noise. "Bahaha! Good job Jack! Ye did a good job capturing those fools. But I welcome ya all to my ship,  the 'Sleeping Giant'. You have been captured by my crew and brought before me, the infamous Redbeard!" He says with a snicker and smirks. "But don't even try to fight back, because you all can't with these collars on your necks. Since they keep you from making magic and killing my whole crew." He explains as he leans forward towards them with his big brown eyes. He breaths heavily with his mouth after a night of drinking, blowing out some air and the smell of alcohol starts to show itself. Seems the crew seemed un-phased by the smell of their captain. "And I suggest you keep your empty threats towards me or my crew, because I can end your lives anytime I want. Ye can easily be broken from my standpoint, mages are always so dependent on their magic, that's what makes them weak! Bahah!" He then leans back up and rests his tired back onto the pillows with the same smirk he had before. He was thinking what he should do with them for now. Because they seemed rather strong for such small people. Maybe he should test their strengths? Hmm..

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Jack inspected each capture as they stirred awake. The woman who bent a sword in the blink of an eye, The stumbling insectoid, The bartender who is a demon, A half-breed, and even a... Wooden mannequin who was a funny sight. The whole group struggled against the necklaces, he smirked, "Don't struggle too much, else your head's might *pop* right off." He looked at the mannequin who was stumbling around trying to appear threatening with his speech. Something Jack felt was hilarious. Even the sound it made as it came crashing down made him laugh hysterically.

After his laughing fit he wiped the wetness out of his eyes and looked at the group once more. Then he turned his head to the woman who said that she wasn't so easily broken. Jack had a glint ins his eye when he looked at her. "You," He pointed, "What's your name? Out of all of this group, I was able to actually see a glimpse of what you were capable of. We actually kept the sword you mangled so easily. You look the most normal out of the group too." He turned towards his own crew mates and shouted to bring it out. After a few moments he had the sword in his hands. "This, this is what you did. What are you? If I happened to be somewhere else I have a feeling part of my crew would be missing. How do you feel? From going from that strong to being so weak you can't even throw a punch? I'm surprised the collars were that effective. I had my doubt about them."

Jack inspected her a few moments more and then turned his attention to the group as a whole. "Now, about the question you've all asked. 'Why am I here?'" He paused for a moment and looked back at Redbeard, looking a little hesitant. "I was told by Redbeard over there to capture strange, bizzare, or strong people. Which all of you are fall under and to answer the question, I'll let Redbeard be the one to speak about that." He looked back at Redbeard once more and nodded his head as he moved back a few steps as to let him speak about it.

Edited by FMPuppet

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Some of the others that were captured were moving about, but one voice penetrated a bit closer and louder to Lorial.  She looked in the direction of the mannequin, and her eyebrows rose upward.  She slowly walked toward it, eyes of the pirate crew following her every move.  She put one of the mannequin arms around her neck as she put her arm around its waist.  She helped hold it up, looking over at the staff with the knife.  Wow, these guys must be very confident to leave a weapon in easy reach of herself,  or any of the other prisoners.  She took her eyes off the staff and looked over to the captain as he talked.

On ‎4‎/‎25‎/‎2016 at 7:53 PM, TeddySpearson said:

"Bahaha! Good job Jack! Ye did a good job capturing those fools. But I welcome ya all to my ship,  the 'Sleeping Giant'. You have been captured by my crew and brought before me, the infamous Redbeard!" He says with a snicker and smirks. "But don't even try to fight back, because you all can't with these collars on your necks. Since they keep you from making magic and killing my whole crew." He explains as he leans forward towards them with his big brown eyes. He breaths heavily with his mouth after a night of drinking, blowing out some air and the smell of alcohol starts to show itself. Seems the crew seemed un-phased by the smell of their captain. "And I suggest you keep your empty threats towards me or my crew, because I can end your lives anytime I want. Ye can easily be broken from my standpoint, mages are always so dependent on their magic, that's what makes them weak! Bahah!" He then leans back up and rests his tired back onto the pillows with the same smirk he had before.

A drunken pirate captain.......... how cliché.  She wasn't too worried about his threats.  She'd been threatened by scarier creatures than him.  She was a mercenary after all, vampires being her prey of choice.  She was used to being the strongest creature in the room, and had the confidence to pull it off.  It was just a bit difficult at the moment, carrying this mannequin that seemed attached to the weapon. 

9 hours ago, FMPuppet said:

"You," He pointed, "What's your name? Out of all of this group, I was able to actually see a glimpse of what you were capable of. We actually kept the sword you mangled so easily. You look the most normal out of the group too." He turned towards his own crew mates and shouted to bring it out. After a few moments he had the sword in his hands. "This, this is what you did. What are you? If I happened to be somewhere else I have a feeling part of my crew would be missing. How do you feel? From going from that strong to being so weak you can't even throw a punch? I'm surprised the collars were that effective. I had my doubt about them."

Jack inspected her a few moments more and then turned his attention to the group as a whole. "Now, about the question you've all asked. 'Why am I here?'" He paused for a moment and looked back at Redbeard, looking a little hesitant. "I was told by Redbeard over there to capture strange, bizzare, or strong people. Which all of you are fall under and to answer the question, I'll let Redbeard be the one to speak about that." He looked back at Redbeard once more and nodded his head as he moved back a few steps as to let him speak about it.

The first mate's little questioning, and rubbing in of her circumstances, pissed her off.  She moved closer to him, limping with the mannequin like she was handicapped and making her look less dangerous.  She and the mannequin stood in front of the first mate's smug face.  "I'll appreciate hearing the captain's take on all this, but first let me answer your questions for you."  Her voice was deceptively quiet.  She got closer, her voice starting off quiet and then building as she went on.  "My name is Lorial.  I am a dangerous person.  And this is how I feel about being weak."  She ended the sentence with a violent head butt to his face.  Her forehead ramming into his nose.   She threw the mannequin on the first mate, and ran in the opposite direction.  "Run!" she screamed at the other prisoners.  She did not do this out of concern for them, but because the chances of her getting away was greater with help from the others. 

The pirates stood there for a minute, possibly in shock.  Her move was a bit unexpected.  I mean, where did she think she was going?  The collar was still on her, and she was on a ship out on the water already.  One pirate came to his senses before she got out the door of the cabin, and stuck his foot out to trip her.  Lorial was not her usual graceful self.  She was like human now.  The foot totally tripped her up.  She face planted right on the deck of the ship.  Blood oozed out of her nose in a gush.  "Fuck, that was stupid," she said to herself.  Now she would probably be punished.  And she didn't even get out the door with her weak ass.  There was one bonus.  The blood didn't make her go crazy with bloodlust.  That was one less thing to worry about. 

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