Carnevale della Notte Rosa

Cirrial · Posted: Sat Jun 14, 2008 2:51 pm Post subject:

((EDIT: Terrible memory! Ion pistol details fixed.))

501 stares blankly at the mercenary group, before wondering why he thought it'd be a good idea to surrender to this enigmatic group of apparently uniformed... what? He doesn't know that they are mercenaries, but based on certain stereotypes, they seem likely to be.

He watches oblivious as a rush of something winged and scaley yanks one of the mercenaries to his doom. The small group of three or four mercenaries don't even flinch.

501 holds his arms in the air. Think of something think of something think of something "Well, then, I guess I completely and unconditionally surrender. Let the records show-"

He throws himself to the side, flings his arm into the air, aiming the ion pistol fused to his hand at the mercenaries.

Unfortunately, having relied on a greater grace of movement than he actually posseses, he watches the ion pistol break snap loudly off his hand and onto the stage. Damn, that was a nice throw. ...Wait. Oh dear. Well, at least it didn't fuse itself too badly to my hand...

More darts ricochet off his head. "Oh come on! It didn't work last time!"

The mercenaries advance on him, wielding their weapons like swords. 501 rolls on the ground with all the elegance of a misshapen log, before scrambling onto his feet. He holds out his hands.

"Stop! I can explain everything!" He then pauses, shrugs, and starts screaming, before running at full force towards and past the mercenary group.

Despite nothing else apparently fazing them, apparently a robot bird charging headlong whilst screaming loudly is at least enough to confuse them momentarily.

Once past the group of mercenaries, 501 leaps into the air, a loud blue flash and an accompanying whoosh signifying his wings unfolding and flaring into life. Shimmering blue aftertrails mark his path as he swoops through the air, narrowly avoiding crashing into everyone else in the airspace above the stage. "Sorry! Whoops! That was my fault! Didn't see you! It's been a while, sorry!"

He lands on the stage, headfirst, with a loud thwack. The humming and whine of his wings fades as they fold away again.

---

After deciding against it, he slowly pulls himself up with great effort, wobbling slightly.

He swings his arms out above him. "People! People! Can I have your attention?"

None of the new arrivals pay him any attention.

"...Please? Oh well." He looks around for good measure before an idea forms. An interesting idea. A risky, highly dangerous plan that would likely get him killed, and would mostly rely on blink luck to succeed. In short, one of his typical plans.

Perhaps if I can attract the attention of everyone and make them all view me as a threat, everyone will go after me, and in the resulting turmoil everyone who I'm here to rescue can slip out!

He diverts some of his attention to preparing his rarely-used energy sword, welded into his right forearm. The long raised ridge on the top of his right forearm starts to faintly glow blue. Things could get just a little tricky...

He then begins to speak, while simultaneously broadcasting his message in the same way he tried to reply to the message that brought him here. His voice sounds cold, almost sinister, devoid of his previously docile well-meaning demeanour.

"You may not pay attention to this, but this is to be expected for such outsiders. Before I entered this... this facility, if it may be so called, I contacted the faction for which I stand for.
In approximately two hours, five Canphir class capital ships will descend upon my broadcast co-ordinates, and all of you will become the living property of my faction.
The rarest specimens shall be taken to our laboratories for research, the more common specimens shall be used for applicable purposes, and every human here shall be enlisted to the front lines of our first strike militias.
As I have already mentioned, you may have completely ignored me and my message. This does not particularly concern me. It is irrelevant."

He walks over to the hat on the stage.

"To demonstrate that you are now all our property I shall take this hat, and none of you will stop me."

He stands next to the hat and, while trying to look cool and neutral, slowly twists his head left and right to see if anyone is responding.

Skald of Storms · White Belt Old Friend Posts: 81

There was nothing but the mindless roaring in his head and the burning of the blood in his veins. His breath had become warm, so warm that with each breath a faint steam raised into the air. His eyes rolled around, everything was a blur, his nose whiffed that familiar almost homelike smell of a fresh kill or rather several.

Having finished his howl his senses turned to the creature nearest to him, the next one he would kill, the child...he had the misfortune now of being the closest being to HrōÃ¾iwulfaz, lost in the berserker rage of his people he let out a thunderous howl of bestial rage and yanking his axe from the head of the fallen zealot kicked the body so that it tumbled away brains and blood spilling out everywhere.

He turned to Taxim, nothing remembered, all burned out or blocked by the rage, he hefted his mighty axe and then burst into motion, his huge form hurtling towards Taxim, his axe being spun to come up in a murderous upswing arc aimed perfectly at Taxims centre.

(Hope you don't take it personally Taxim, just seems your the closest to him...and well you know the rest.)

Maraha · Posted: Tue Jun 17, 2008 3:17 pm Post subject:

"Maraha? You can come out now..."

She popped her head out first before scanning the area with a nervous expression on her face. Blood, guts, everywhere. And now the big guy was attacking the kid. Does she really want to get out? Really? Honestly? Yeah, her back started to ache after being inside the little hat world for longer than a few minutes.

Her head vanished back into the hat before sticking both arms out and pulling herself out of her fashionable headgear. She straightened her clothes, set the hat back on her head, and waved to Sfot. "Kay! Umm... Now what?"

Zerrer · Posted: Tue Jun 17, 2008 7:24 pm Post subject:

Ashael leaped out of Zed's arms, almost shoving him away. With a few well-placed shots, she blew out the tires of each and every limo there.
"Let's go." She said.

~This is where the world will end~ Her aura is swirling ominously. She walked into the tent, both guns whistling.

Angel · Red Belt Old Friend Evil Council Member Posts: 1096

*Zed raises an eyebrow at the rough treatment after he'd so courteously lent her his wings, but pushes that aside at her business like treatment of the limos.

His mind sharpens as awareness of Angel rushes back. He can feel the boredom with which she kills and a smile of relish comes over his face, she is planning something worth watching. The tension in him melts away now that he knows she is enjoying herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Instead of wildly outpacing her prey, she stalks more slowly this time. The dead one's companions barely see him, their eyes sliding over what they cannot believe. They turn their sparking cattle prods back to her, some small element of caution now colouring their faces.

She walks openly, radiating such deadly surety that they take a step back. Then another. There's a low thrumming noise to her left and her hand blurs for an instant. A low thwack fills the intervening space and a dagger is fitted snugly in her palm. She grins, fangs poking over the edge of her lip, but doesn't glance away from her jitering opponents.*

Zed, you made it [i]just in time[/]. *Ha makes and amused grunt and settles to leaning against the pole holding the tents animal gate up. One of the mercenaries glances at him and he raises an eyebrow, a heavy lightening bolt cracking the gate in two, arching from his hand.

Angel grins with twisted enjoyment and leaps forwards, blade flashing. It slices through the muscle of a bicep with ease then rips into the man's ribs as she pulls it back again. She pulls it sideways and his gasps begin to rattle fatally. His cattle prod falls and she slips her foot underneath it, flicking it up into her free hand. As a final humiliation, she rams the thing into his gut as he falls and his muscles spasm. Blood pumps into his lungs as fast as it pumps out of him and pinks froth spews from his mouth and he thrashes. It coats the front of his clothes and bloods is drawn into the dry ground is if the land approves of this.

His body thrashes even after he can no longer breathe, eyes whirling in their sockets and showing white more often than not. His boots gouge grooves in the earth floor and smear his blood around.*

Zerrer · Posted: Wed Jun 18, 2008 11:34 am Post subject:

Ashael walks into the tent, looking for the ringmaster. She sees him almost at once, and raises both pistols. She fires them, and a large needle burst from each one. The one on the left was going to miss completely, but the one on the right would strike true and puncture his windpipe.

Cirrial · Posted: Sat Jun 21, 2008 3:11 am Post subject:

((EDIT: Terrible memory! Ion pistol details fixed.))

501 stares blankly as Mahara climbs out of the hat as if it was perfectly ordinary and an expecting thing to happen.

He tilts his head down to where the hat was. No obvious attempts at concealing a hidden chamber. I hate this place sometimes.

After a long pause and after staring at Mahara for a few more moments, he mentally crosses out his old plan in favour of a new one.

"Hello there! Just your local robot bird thing. I mean you no harm!" A lone tranquiliser dart zips through the air and bounces off his head. "...I wish they'd stop doing that. Anyway. I came here because one of your, um, friends, associates, or whatever, sent out a message. What exactly is going on except a world of pain?"

Another tranquiliser dart bounces off his head. He sighs, looks around the stage and grabs his previously discarded melted ion pistol, conveniently close by. He holds it at an arm's length from him, off to his side and casually fires it without looking. A dazzling white-blue beam of electricity curves out to a nearby mercenary. A scream of pain can be heard as they fall to the ground, convulsing wildly. 501 examines the ion pistol with surprise. "Huh. That wasn't supposed to work."

"Anyway, I'm assuming you're on my side because you haven't immediately tried to kill me yet. Just to be sure, though, I'm going to point this at you until I hear otherwise." He slowly and carefully points his held ion pistol at Mahara, moving his primary digit away from the trigger to the handle. In a cheerful voice, he adds "Understand? Good. I knew you would. You look like a smart one."

Somefreakoverthere · Posted: Sat Jun 21, 2008 3:38 am Post subject:

((...Didn't 501's ion pistol get fused to his hand, or was that a different one? Rubbish memory...))

Sfot looked around as she heard Maraha get out the hat. And then somebody point a gun at her. Big mistake.

"G-GET AWAY FROM MARAHA!" She screamed, stomping forward with a face that a gorgon would rival. She was somewhat possesive of Maraha, meaning anybody who even thought of hurting her was going to be in for a world of pain.

Cirrial · Posted: Sat Jun 21, 2008 4:53 am Post subject:

(( Well, I have the memory of a sieve. Retroactively corrected in that it snapped off 501's hand during flight and is now mostly a melted lump of plastic that's somehow functional enough to fire a shot at a mercenary. There's still lumps of plastic on 501's hand though. ))

KC11 · White Belt Old Friend Posts: 567

Demetris finally rested in the forest. Leaves clung to her scales.

She looked at the body of Jesten. Nope. Still no sign of life.

She sighed, and decided to Sense. Being a creature with a large, extreme foot in the Insanity element, she could Sense the sanity of creatures she was either connected to or was nearby.

She decided to Sense KC's sanity.

She paused.

It was pretty low.

*****

KC had finished tying "Riely" up. She dragged him along as she looked for the next victem.

A zealot ran by, doing the remarkable act of praying while running. KC picked him up and started ripping him apart. Not eating him, per say. She just wanted to rip him.

When she was done, a pile of blood and guts lay at her feet.

"Heh heh...ha.... HAHAHAHAHAHHAAAA!"

She kicked aside the pile, laughing and laughing.

***

Demetris sat in shock. Such a shock wave had gone around the area.

KC's Sanity.... it was not exactly the same sanity that told her that money didn't fall from the sky (which was false, at least in this universe). It was the sanity that stopped her from killing and eating people. It was... it was Dragon Sanity.

KC's Dragon Sanity was gone. Completely gone. The tank was empty.

Cirrial · Posted: Tue Jun 24, 2008 5:46 am Post subject:

501 continues to hold the ion pistol at Mahara. "Well, I suppose you haven't tried to kill me j-"

"G-GET AWAY FROM MARAHA!"

He swings his head from side to side. "Whuzzat? Who? Oh. Er." He hastily throws his ion pistol over his shoulder, and hears a muffled cry from whoever it smacks into. "I wasn't going to hurt Hamara! ...Mahara! ...whoever!"

He starts to step away from wherever the source of the voice was, and promptly falls backwards off the stage in a loud series of thuds and clangs.

After scrambling to an upright position, he looks around and desperately tries to come up with a plan C.

He raises his voice to the volume of a loudspeaker. "Who runs this place?!"

Maraha · Posted: Wed Jun 25, 2008 11:52 pm Post subject:

(Gah, sorry for deadness, my lovelies. Laptop dead an' stuff. Using a sibling's computer, an' it's making me paranoid, 'cause everyone can see every little thing that I do...)

"I wasn't going to hurt Hamara! ...Mahara! ...whoever!"

Maraha simply gave an exasperated sigh when the fidgety fowl fudged up her fair name. She'd probably prepare some sort of humiliating booby trap for him later, but he was a robot. Robots that don't immediately try to 'asplode her face deserve a second chance.

"It's... Maraha. Ma-rah-ha. It's nornish, you probably have no idea what it means."

She glanced around the arena, she'd never seen so much carnage in such an innocent-seeming place before. The Carnage Carnival. Heh. Heheh, certainly an amusing little thought.

"Who runs this place?!"

The ringmaster, as far as she knew. The one who attempted to auction her and her friends to other... other freakshow owners, or worse. She shrugged, not entirely sure how to answer the bot's question. "As far as I know, the Ringmaster owns this place. I don't really care if he does or not, I've already booked him a table in hell."

Taxim · White Belt Old Friend Posts: 255

We are terribly sorry for the amount of time that has passed since we last had a short crack at this place again. But we have been once again burdened with a heavy work schedule so we have little time except weekends to use.

If anyone is willing to continue after all this time, though doubtful, we will be able to participate once more.