Carnevale della Notte Rosa

[Taxim]

(Yes, though only kill one per post and let everybody have some fun. )

[Skald of Storms]

Hrōþiwulfaz snarled as the child jumped forward first and he bellowed an incoherent cry before jumping forward himself, his massive stride carrying him past Taxim easily, but before he realised quite what was happening so intent on beating everyone to them he did not notice that one of them had got in his way ever so slightly and he felt himself being redirected away from the main group of them by a powerful swing of one of the golden swords.

Coming to a rest he roared in outrage and spun his eyes now completely rolled back in his head, he no longer needed sight, for he had the blessing of the berserker rage. His blood boiled and he roared once more, this time it seemed to be with some agony of his own. The golden sword wielding fanatic that had moved him leapt at him bringing his sword down in a two handed sweep.

Hrōþiwulfaz snarled and scarily enough with one hand swept his axe across his body in an arc smashing aside the golden sword, fanatic and all, who then tumbled quite fiercly sideways. And then as the fanatic scrambled to his feet it was too late for him, the whole 7'4" of himself was hulking above him, the fanatic tried to scream in terror and raise his sword. But as the hefty seven foot war axe came crashing down on the hastily raised sword blade it just continued it's pressing downwards regardless of the sword and neatly split the fanatics skull in half. He lifted his head and let out a glorious cry of satisfaction.

[Somefreakoverthere]

Sfot laughed as shield came down, and lept forward and upwards as her wings started beating heavily, lifting her upwards.

She watched, grinning as Wulf took zealot #1 down. She circled for a few seconds before diving downwards, throwing the tuna sandwich at the eyes of one of the blokes who looked almost military-dropout.

"May the mayo blind you hence-forth!" She cackled madly as she gained hight again.

"Say, Sfot..." Maraha said, still inside the hat. "How do you think they'd react if the only thing that came out of the hat was a plain ol' white rabbit?"

Sfot's responce was spoken at her normal volume, hoping the fighting and the heigh would stop the others figuring out what was going on. "Don't even think of trying to come out right now, Maraha! That, and make it an albino rabbit."

She couldn't stop a giggle at her freinds antics, even when she was fighting and pulling another sandwich out her pocket; it was a large bagett full of what may or may not of been cheese and tomato. With mayo.

[KC11]

The snake holding onto the man's nose twisted and neatly ripped it off. The man swung his axe, but KC was ready. She had already turned into a ferret, so the man was left swinging at thin air. KC crawled up his trousers and made him dance.

In the meantime, Demetris had taken out a cleaver from between her spines. She grinned a manevolent grin, then while the man was distracted with trying to get the Ferret-KC out of his trousers, she grabbed his arm and neatly sliced off his right hand.

Howling in pain, the man raised his other hand, which was holding the axe, with intent of splitting Demetris clean in the middle. Demetris had dropped her cleaver. She was trapped. No way out. The ax swung down.

"NO!"

A great shout, and Demetris saw that a clump of dirt was moving. This clump of dirt suddenly sprang up and grabbed hold of the man's leg, sinking its teeth into it.

The man dropped the ax. It fell at an odd angle and clattered to the ground next to Demetris. By this time, KC had fallen out of the man's pants. She grew larger, unfurling her dragon form yet again.

The man angrily shook the thing that was bitting his leg off. It flew around the arena and hit the other wall. The dust came off.

Jesten. He lay there, unconscious, his glasses shattered.

KC and Demetris looked at him, as if in slow motion, as he lay there, with a bloodied head and mouth.

They didn't have much time to stare. Limping, the man angrily picked his ax back up, held it over his head, and advanced towards KC and Demetris.

"Come on, come on!" thought KC as her wings sprouted. "Faster! FASTER!"

Demetris jumped up and slashed her knife across the man's face. The man attempted to grab her, but she was too quick for him. The man and Demetris went on like this for a while, Demetris flying in and out, slashing at bits of the man, and the man attempting to choke her.

Finally, KC was ready. The man was distracted. She went up to him as he was looking the other way, grabbed his throat, and slashed her claws through it. As blood gushed out, she picked him up, put his head in her mouth, and crushed it like an egg.

Blood, bones, and brains dripped from her mouth as the now headless body of the man fell to the ground. She grinned a blood filled grin.

"It is done." She said.

She picked up the body of the man with her one good arm and threw it in the direction of the zealots. "THERE'S YOUR GOD!" she yelled as the body flew through the air.

((The zealots and the other men are different people, right?))

KC's smiled soon left as she looked at Jesten. He still wasn't moving.

Cautiously, Demetris and KC made their way over to him.

"Is your.... arm okay?" asked Demetris awkwardly as they walked over.

"It's fine." said KC. "I think it'll heal well."

They finally got to Jesten. He was looking pretty bad. He had taken an injury to his head, and his glasses were all smashed.

"We have to get him out of here." Said KC. "Demetris, you take him. I have to stay here and help. You can escape out there." she said, pointing to the pen. "Just... hold on." she said. She picked up some dust and scattered it over Demetris and Jesten. She continued until they were covered in dust. "Go. Hurry, before the gates close." she said, pushing Demetris along.

[Zerrer]

"We need to get to the carnival of the rose as quickly as possible." Ashael told Zed after explaining about the ringmaster and the collectors.

She grabbed her two pistols and made sure they were fully loaded.
"Can you carry me?" She asked him.

[Cirrial]

((Curse my however-long disappearance! Is there any feasible way I can introduce any character to this RP, even if all they're doing is standing a long way away and thinking "huh, look at that tent"? >_>))

[Zerrer]

((Ashael sent off a broadcast. You could have gotten it and came to help.))

[Taxim]

(To Cirrial, of course. You may have been attracted by the lights of the carnival that can be seen miles away. To KC, there are four groups: Zealots, Zeus & Co, mercenaries and the Ex-Military.)

Taxim was a little disappointed when Wulf charged ahead of him, though that quickly disappeared as the zealot turned him away to battle. The child smiled to himself and quickly ran around the person Wulf was battling and headed straight for the crown.

He quickly darted around KC as she finished off her Zealot, dodging under their battle and let the coil of the whip hang free. It fell behind him with the strange clicking sound as he tightened his grip on the hilt. The crown-wearer raised his broadsword up to his right shoulder, pointed towards Taxim as if to lunge into him.

Taxim brought his right hand forward and "threw" the whip with a gesture of his hand. The aim was good; it headed directly for the wrist. The child instantly pulled upwards and flicked hard causing it to circle around his wrist. The man brought the sword back to gain momentum, them lunged forwards towards the child. The Dark mask gave Taxim more speed than the human, this allowed him to dodge sideways and yank hard on the whip.

This caused the whip to tighten immediately around the wrist. Hooks and points dug into the man as the whip was tightened harder and harder, this caused him to drop the sword to the floor and shout out in pain. While the man was distracted, Taxim used his height to his advantage and duck in-between his legs as he was trying to claw the whip from his wrist. The child raised his right hand and gripped the hilt with both hands before pulling sharply upward, inflicting large amounts of pain to a very sensitive area.

The force dragged the man backwards while the damage caused his body to try to curl up defensively to stop attacks on other delicate parts. The man hit the floor, slamming on top of the whip, which only added more pain to the sum. Taxim gave the whip another tug for good measure, making his wrist pull downwards towards his legs while the hooks dug in and also into his in-be-tweens. This made the man cry out in a very passionate sound more than words, quite loudly too. The man did not seem to want to die, even when Taxim yanked harder on the whip, this only made him roll onto his back as his wrist was pulled in-between his legs. A funny situation when looked back upon a while from now of course.

The man was either crying with laughter or intense pain, the child did not pay much attention. He only walked towards the man, lifted up his head and wrapped the whip around his neck twice. The barbs sunk in and Taxim moved nearer towards his face and whispered into his ear "Go with God," before putting his foot on the mans shoulder and tugging with all his might.

The whip tightened and dug into his neck. Taxim looked away as to not get blood covering his mask, though he only got it onto his clothes as the mans neck was punctured, ripped and crushed all in one. The child only looked back as he had finished making hissing sounds as all the air escaped. He shook his hands, removing the red liquid and slowly untangled the whip by following its path around the neck and wrist by twirling it slightly.

[KC11]

((It's alright if I make another killing, right? You said one per post.))

KC wiped her mouth. "Woah." she said, looking at the bloodied dead man on the floor. "And I thought my killing was vicious."

A man from the Ex-Military came forward, waving a sword in the air. KC rolled her eyes.

"You know, I really am hungry."

She crouched down, hiding her soft belly from the sharp sword. The man jabbed at her, but the sword bent quite nicely as it hit her scales.

"And you'll be the perfect Happy Meal."

KC reached out a claw and flicked the bent sword away. She picked up the man, raising to full height. She turned him upside down and bit off his legs. As the man screamed and waves his bloodied stumps around, KC tipped him into her mouth and swallowed him whole.

She looked to see a mercenary run by. She stopped him, and he squirmed around, stabbing at her arm.

"Hmm." she said. "You know, you look too interesting to be killed. I think that I shall collect you. If it's good for me, it's good for you, right?"

She looked around as the mercenary squirmed in her hand. She picked up a piece of rope and started tying it around the mercenary.

"I think I'll call you Reily."

******
Demetris had lugged Jesten under the gate, twisting around the men, and had made it out into the open skies. She kept on running, and when she got to the gate, she jumped and flew. Jesten felt heavy in her arms.

"Please don't let it be dead weight." said her conscious.

"Yeah. You need someone to pester." said her subconcious 1.

"Ah, you care for him. That's nice." said her subconcious 2.

"TURN HIM INTO PIE WHEN YOU GET HOME!" yelled her subconcious 3.

"Tuh, don't worry though." said her subconscious 1. "He's immortal like you, remember? So long as you don't drop the body in a meat factory, he'll come back to it."

Subconscious 1 was right.

At least, Demetris hoped.

[Cirrial]

Half a mile from the carnival tent, a vaguely humanoid figure covered in hundreds of tiny lights, and one massive cylindrical blue light, stumbles across the terrain.

"Day... ninety something. Still no contact with Maratix. Beginning to question sanity." After a lengthy pause, the figure adds to its sub-audible mutterings. "Observing gigantic tent-like structure. Confirmed loss of sanity established. CAM-501, end of recording."

501 raises a robotic claw above his gleaming yellow ovoid eyes. "What the five feathers is that? Why am I asking when this is Blackstar, home of nonsense? Who am I talking to?" He laughs bitterly. "Well, I'm already half-mad, apparently. Why shouldn't I just go completely mad? It'd make life here a lot easier."

He strides towards the tent and abruptly hesitates, his unchanging face betraying no trace of surprise. But surprised he was.

~communication intercepted~, a small pseudo-voice informs him.

A flood of small pings and beeps overwhelms him as his semi-automated systems decide to share their findings with his conscious mind, all simultaneously. He clutches his head and reels, seeing spoken messages and hearing text displayed in front of him.

"Arrwk! Keaw wrrik saaw! I'm going to find whoever designed this output system and throttle them! ...Oh, wait, I think it was me. ...In that case, I, er, got what I deserved?"

More than a little confused, he sits down to assess the situation and mentally composes a response to first transmission received.

[ The name Kazumaru is a familiar one. I can attempt to help with my limited resources. You probably don't know who I am. Let's just say I'm an acquaintance of Kazumaru's. We used to be, ahem, neighbours. ]

He broadcasts this reply in all directions, unsure where the original message came from. With the mental storm he had just suffered through, all he remembers is the original message itself.

After thinking about it he decides to add to his original reply.

[ My name is 501. I'm a representative of an extrauniversal union, or collective, or group, or faction, whatever you want to call it. I could potentially use this fact for our collective favour. ]

After broadcasting, 501 walks up to the tent and thinks of what to do next.

((EDIT: Are there any entrances into the tent I can get in? I don't recall reading that the animal gate was closed...))

[Taxim]

(You are correct. The animal gate at the back of the tent has not been shut, you could get through there. You would be closest to the suited-mercenaries.)

[Angel]

*Zed listens intently to Ashael as she gathers her weapons. The talk of captives and cages makes Zed itch, becoming increasingly restless. He hopes his Sire can at least hold back the memories until he can get there.

He looks up at her again as she enquires of him and the tension in his muscles builds. The faster the better, and he flies FAST. He makes sure she is ready, then picks her up like she's nothing, an arm under her knees and one behind her back. Hard, sinewy muscles flex over his thin frame as he unfurls wings as immense and powerful as Angels.

Two heavy beats and they are in the air, ripping through the air towards the Carnival.

~~~~~

Angel feels the isolation lift and a 'breeze' flows back into the cage through its open walls. It fans the coals in her body and she lights up with relish, flames licking from her arms. After a moments indulgence, however, she extinguishes them with a 'pop'. This fight has no need for that.

She leans forwards, balancing on the balls of her feet then appears to fall into nothing,. The immense acceleration is difficult to follow and the over confidant cattle prod wielding fools haven't a chance. She halts again behind a small and pointless underling, even before her clothes have settles again, he falls. His eyes are blank and glassy, misted over. There is no final breath or gurgle, just the sudden and immediate cessation of life.

[Cirrial]

After circling the tent numerous times and passing several potential entrances without consciously realising, 501 stops in front of the gate the four groups used to get in, with two clowns apparently guarding it.

He strolls up to the two. "Excuse me, gents, I believe I have an appointment."

One of the clowns snorts derisively, and then actually looks towards the source of the voice. Humanoid in stature, vaguely avian facial features, but mostly black spiky robot. With a humming, brightly glowing blue torso, looking very similar to a strange mixture of lightning and blue fire whirrling around an otherwise hollow torso. In short, something that seemed destructive even if it didn't intend to be.

The two quietly back away from 501, nodding. 501 nods back and strolls forth, trying his hardest to look like an unyielding machine, staring forth and moving with a mechanical rhythmn.

He builds up pace and runs screaming towards the stage. He whips his ion pistol from its holster to his hands and assumes an attack stance.

He stops, silent for a few seconds, and tries to think of something suitably dramatic to say. He finds it increasingly difficult when he realises that, far from maybe the odd few reoccuring goons that seemed to plague Blackstar, there are four seperate groups. Each individually much larger than he was expecting.

He manages a feeble wave and slowly backs away, ion pistol still clutched. One of the suited mercenaries turns towards him, and mutters something to the others.

Focus, 501, focus. Focus.

He holsters his ion pistol. "Ah, comrades! How glad I am to see you! I am a friend of your leader. May I see them?"

Another one of the mercenaries suppresses an amazed smirk at 501's apparent naivety.

"Err, err, what I mean is, um, oh dear. ...How about I skip the attempt at bluffing and we go straight to the gunfight?"

The small sub group of mercenaries all nod, and aim their modified tranquliser guns at 501's head. 501 draws his ion pistol and fiddles with a minute knob on the side.

He holds the ion pistol out and fires.

The curved white beam of energy flies out into the air, crackling, before flying back into the pistol, causing the weapon to explode violently in 501's clutches. As he stares at the molten plastic now fused to his hand, the mercenaries return their fire. The tranquiliser darts bounce harmlessly off of 501's thick metal skull-analogue.

501 looks to the mercenaries. "Okay, we've basically proved we're equally inept. How about we call it a day and I help you guys? Because to be honest I'm not entirely sure why I came here. I think it involved saving someone but I can't see them here anyway."

One of the mercenaries lowers his sunglasses meaningfully. "No."

501 shrugs. "Well, I guess I surrender. Well, I will once I find out what surrendering would actually lead to. ...So, I guess my question is, what would happen if I surrender? Hypothetically. Because I'm not."

[Maraha]

".. Sfot? When can I come out? It's... rather cramped in here. I feel like a rabbit." she said. One could hear the slight pain in her voice.

((... I can't wait to get her out of that hat.))

[Somefreakoverthere]

"Maraha, I'm flying around and about to kill somebody. Could you wait until I'm done?" She replied as she selected her target and smirked. This was gonna be fun.

She pulled her hat off her head; it was strange that it had stayed so long with her flying. She plunged downards, and what happened was more like some crazy exchange. She flicked the hat towards the stage before grabbing one of the mercenarie's neck. The half banshee didn't bother heading gaining height again, dragging the unlucky victim along the ground before squeezing her hand tightly and snapping his spine.

Only then did she bother to let go and return to the stage to see where her friend had ended up. "Maraha? You can come out now..." Se called out carefully, looking around for the hat so she could get it away from the crazy people.