WISH Broadcasting Network!| Welcome to My Hero Academia RPG. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. If you are seeking help, come into our Discord! https://discord.gg/CrJPdtj |
- Pages:
- 1
- 2
| One Big Swill; Slade, Ciaran and Seraphim (Open to villains by PM); Graded | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: May 16 2018, 10:10 AM (958 Views) | |
| Infinity Gohan | May 16 2018, 10:10 AM Post #1 |
![]()
Taller than You
|
"Alright! Knock him dead!" Slade yelled out as a bar of maniacs and crooks went wild over a small table, the man's gargantuan size giving him a fantastic view of the fight in spite of his position behind the throng of degenerates. The giant continued to hoot and holler as he chugged down a pitcher of beer like it was apple juice, the froth spilling over his mouth and onto his clothes as he swallowed absentmindedly, intrigued to see where the battle would go. There had been some sort of arm wrestling competition going on and while Slade was all pumped and ready to give it a go himself, things got real interesting when one of the law busters accused the other of cheating... and well from there, things got way more fun. The behemoth really, truly missed this feeling of being among his own kind, cutthroats and hooligans the lot. The Bar Slade's outfit (minus sunglasses) Deep, deep within the Canadian wilds of Toronto lay a safe haven for all who went bump in the night, all who feared the glare of red and blue and all who sought out a good, violent time among the worst society had to offer. Named "The Rusty Coffin" it wasn't exactly a posh joint, but it was packed to the brim and had plenty of place for lots of patrons of all sizes (though the small would not have the luxury of being avoided by its customers). But, perhaps most importantly of all, it was a bar that didn't ask questions. You could come in off the street looking like a sweet old grandma or a psycho drenched in blood, all that mattered was that you paid for your drink and that you didn't smell of the law. This fit in nicely with Slade's goals, the man having gotten out of a recent stint in the big house down south in the States and thought the Great White North was a good place to lie low till the heat died down. Through his own connections, the monstrous thief had learned of the bar, its purpose and its tight-lipped policy (aided by several bribes to officials) leading the man to where he was: happy, drunk and filled to the brim with testosterone. With but a dash of pink on his cheeks, Slade stepped away from the mess of a fight as the fight grew boring, the smaller of the two starting to edge out as winner and the man no longer having anything to cheer for. The arm wrestling would kick up again soon enough, for now the bar called to him, the massive man's weight alone pressing the stool down some yet he still leered down at the quiet server as he cleaned a glass as if it was the only thing that mattered in the world. "Crazy stuff, hey barkeep! Not five minutes out the brig, and these idiots get right into causing trouble! What's not to love! Course, I could knock 'em down flat with a flick, but everyone needs a shot at their own fun!" Slade declared, swinging his mug back and forth, spilling beer everywhere as his hefty, black tail swung around like a fluffy mallet, threatening to knock down any who dared cross its path. "Hmm... What's your poison?" Was all the man replied with, all he ever seemed to really. Bartender Slade merely chuckled at the response, planting his glass with a firm thud as he declared with a grin that saw his fangs peek out, "Haven't found one that can kill me just yet, but I'll take as much scotch as you can dump in this thing! Gonna need something stronger in me before I feel a real buzz, so get ready to run out of the good stuff!" |
![]() |
|
| Oirarana | May 19 2018, 04:18 AM Post #2 |
|
Ciaran pushed the door to the bar open just in time for a body to slam into the wall next to him and slump to the ground unconscious. The small Irishman stared for a brief moment before grinning broadly and stepping into the den of iniquity without a second thought. The place hadn't changed since the last time he had been here, and from the cringes from a few patrons here and there it was apparent those who had upset him last time had learned their lesson. It was almost disappointing to be honest, but maybe there would be someone dumb enough to start something with him. Especially in his current getup, it amused him too much to wear such attire, especially in a place like this. Ciaran's outfit With his accent it was particularly humourous. He had a clear run to the bar, with some regulars pulling their less informed friends a little out off the way as he walked, one of them with a fancy new eyepatch getting a larger grin from the petite 'father' that had the much larger man shuddering slightly. That had been a good martini, the garnish a little more gelatinous than usual, but the effect it'd had on the other patrons... well, it was worth the effort. Ciaran made it to the bar, eyeing the new man standing there whose massive frame was quite attention grabbing. This could be fun, the guy certainly looked interesting, and Ciaran had had such good luck with huge men in the past. Even if Kull had becoming the President now... it didn't matter, the dragon was still his Khan. Thomas had been fun too, in a different way, but it had been a while since Ciaran had come across such a massive man as this one, and he was determined then and there to see if he could strike three for three on hulking and fun people he knew. "A shot of whiskey for myself, and one for my new friend~" the Irishman instructed the barkeeper as he dropped a wad of cash on the bar to add to his tab. "And by shot, I mean something more to his scale than mine, don't shortchange me this time Reginald~" He didn't actually know if the man's name was Reginald, but since he was by far the single most closed-lip bartender Ciaran had ever met, he figured that there wouldn't be any complaints so long as his names didn't become rude. There was no doubt in the small villain's mind that the barkeeper was stronger than he looked, he'd have to be in a bar like this. "You're a new face in these parts my son," he asked Slade, giggling slightly at the priestly act, "what brings you to this place of sin?" |
![]() |
|
| DwagonKitsune | May 19 2018, 06:21 AM Post #3 |
|
Sera's 'round the world' trip seemed to have hit a bit of a snag recently. She visited China, Japan, landed in the states, and then...kinda stayed there. In the Angel's defense the United States of America was a very, very large and diverse place. But her trip had seemed to have stalled at the very least and so Seraphim was looking to start it back up again. She didn't want to travel that far. Another long plane trip would be annoying for one who liked to stretch their wings. And so the Irishwoman set her gaze to the north, to Canada. In her short trip to the cold north, the Angel had found out about a bar that'd serve anyone, no questions asked. The minor, curious about what alcohol tasted like and how much fun drinking really was, decided that she'd seek it out. Actually finding the place proved a bit difficult though. Most people took one look at Seraphim and her quirk before an incredulous expression would cross their face. But after a little bit of convincing she finally had the directions that she wanted. While the Irishwoman was hoping for a quiet establishment, her hopes were dashed before she even went in through the door. The fight that had started inside as well as the noise of the other patrons spilled out into the street, causing Sera to pause and sigh. 'Well, I already decided to do this. So what's the point in waiting?' She gathered her resolve before she walked in. It seemed like the whole "no questions asked" was taken very seriously in this bar. Their patrons were numerous, although one common denominator could be found if one took even the barest glance. Seraphim shuffled his wings, slightly unease in this setting, but still charged on. She wound her way to the bar, not making eye contact with anyone in case they'd view such a small contact as a threat. The two people currently at the bar seemed to be a big burly man and a petite priest. Ire rising, the Irishwoman did her best to ignore the two. She didn't want to start a fight, not here. "Can I have..." she started, Irish accent on clear display for anyone who had ears. However the Irishwoman drew a blank on what to order. She knew she wanted alcohol, but her experience in such a beverage was next to nil. Her blank would be easily explained by her youthful features, marking her as underage. "A pint o' Guinness?" Seraphim finished asking, going for the only drink she'd heard ordered often. Sera's Outfit
|
![]() |
|
| Infinity Gohan | May 20 2018, 08:51 AM Post #4 |
![]()
Taller than You
|
Slade has a good nose on the worst of days, and today was a very good day that seemed to only be getting better with every second that passed, the drinks a great aid to this. With that in mind, the man's nose alerted him to his favorite smell of all: trouble. It wafted near his face in droves when the door opened, Slade peaking over his shoulder with a grin as he scanned the new entrant by the door, his tail beginning to wag as it seemed this was some kind of big wig walking in. Well, big wig to the locals anyways, Slade not having the slightest clue of who the tiny stranger was, but he seemed a good deal of fun. He was quickly followed in by what, at least in this part of town, looked to be a lost child. Slade, however, knew better than to just guess that. He'd met more than his share of broads who looked like an innocent flower only to turn around and start going psycho. Liking asking for marriage and kids! Shivering at the thought, the brought was glad to see his drink had been filled, but also that he had some company, it taking the man a moment to actually realize someone had joined him, hearing a voice and peaking over his shoulder to find the miniature chaplain. Dressing like he was a saint when he was inside of this bar like it was a casual Tuesday? Yeah, he was probably a psycho, but hey he was grabbing him a drink, so he was game to be friends for now. Better yet, he was upsizing him on some whiskey! "Thanks little buddy! Thought you'd have brought some wine from the church, but guess they keep a tight lock on it! Hahaha!" Slade declared, his laugh shaking the bar as his hand smacked Ciaran on the back, eclipsing his chest cavity as claws touched his outfit, no tears but a definite poke. The bartender, meanwhile, merely nodded and got to work on the drink. He'd seen scarier sorts than either of them and the cash was good, that was all that he cared about. As he poured the drink for Slade, the bartender picked out Seraphim's order and replied with a curt, "Of course, madam." He might run a villains bar, but he still had his honor as a serviceman, and he wasn't going to treat a lady wrong. Slade chuckled twice, once at how cute the girl's demeanor and drink order were and then more loudly as he gazed down at his hands: a pitcher of whiskey in the left and a refilled pitcher of beer in his right. The man got right to work as he brought both mugs to his mouth, gigantic gulps taking place as he listened to Ciaran go through his preacher bit, his grin only growing as that much sought after buzz came to his mind. With barely a drop spilled, and after a few seconds of leaning back, the man brought the glasses crashing back down to the bar as he let loose a huge sigh of relief. With the signal to the bartender to refill his beer and barely a hue of red on his face, Slade responded to his diminutive friend, "Same thing as every other schmuck here padre: drinks, booze, fighting and a warm bed if ya can find it," the man ended his statement with a lean forward and a wink to Seraphim, giant teeth present in a hammy smile. She had an Irish lilt, much like his new drinking buddy, and began to wonder if the pair were related in some way. Well, if it was a good relation, he'd find out soon enough. Choosing to face that problem when it came, Slade moved to finish his answer as he got his beer refilled, stating, "Beyond that, I'm gaming to make use of my time as a reformed citizen, having gone through an experimental therapy called, "bust down the prison wall and steal the warden's clothes". There are a lot of banks and stores that hold things that shine under the sun, and I wanna see how many of 'em I can clean out 'fore I can die." The man's smile was never fading, ending his sentence with one big swill of his refreshed beer pitcher, maintaining his light buzz a bit longer as beer again spilled from his full mouth. Satisfied, the mountain of a thief, turned to the priest and shot back, "What about you short stuff? You don't strike me as a true man of faith, and I'm guessing the smell of blood on you ain't from a nosebleed. After all, most people tend to settle on one kinda blood instead of twenty..." |
![]() |
|
| Oirarana | May 20 2018, 01:11 PM Post #5 |
|
Ciaran couldn't help but grin a little more widely at the giant of a man as he seemed ready to play along with the priest route. "Alas, the blood of Christ is a trifle too thin and his flesh not quite salty enough to go well with it. Shame he didn't offer his disciples cheese to go with the crackers and wine, might make communion more palatable. Though perhaps they do that on purpose to make sure no one takes too much, slainte!" he mused with a shrug as he tossed back a large sip of the whiskey that had been placed in front of him, the warmth stinging his throat and infusing his chest with heat. Not bad stuff. The small Irishman didn't flinch at the behemoth's heavy hand against his back, though it could have sent a weaker man flying, the massive paw large enough to encircle his ribcage. He couldn't sense any actual intent to harm either, so he didn't bother reacting the way he might have should there have been aggression in the 'attack'. He stared slightly at the girl who had come to the bar, this was probably the first time he'd stumbled across someone else from Ireland outside of the country, though her stereotypical choice of drink made him giggles slightly and wonder if she was going to say 'top o the mornin to you' or some other asinine stereotype that the rest of the world seemed to believe about the Irish. "Dia dhuit, is mise Athair Ciaran MacNamara, tá áthas orm bualadh leat." he greeted the girl with a raised glass before returning his attention to the big man he was sitting next to. He had no idea if she spoke Gaeilge, or if she even wanted to talk to him, so he'd wait to see how she responded before engaging with her further. "That does sound like every sinner's goal in this place," he agreed with the larger man, "although the beds here aren't exactly the best places to lay your head, they'll do in a pinch." He couldn't contain his laughter though at the man's description of his reformation within the tender mercies of the judicial system, brushing a lock of black hair out of his face and wishing he'd bothered to use his hair clips. "Ah prison breaks... that was a fun time~" he remarked wistfully, remembering the series of events that had lead to breaking Kull out of custody. It'd been an absolute mess and he'd loved most of it, at least until that monster had show up. "Theft too... you clearly are a sinner my son, I would recommend many 'Hail Mary's if I thought it'd actually do anything. I can guess you're not the subtle kind of thief either." He kicked his legs idly in the air, giving the giant of a man a sidelong glance with crimson eyes, a look of danger passing over his face before it settled back to normal. "You have a good nose my son, I am fortunate to have spilled the blood of the heretic and the unclean... to be more specific, whoever it is that gets in my way." He paused for a moment, weighing up his options before deciding not to muck around too much right now, there was far more interesting things he could be doing with this conversation than stringing the larger man along. Even if that would be a fun way of proceeding with the conversation, the goal of robbery had peaked Ciaran's interest, and the idea of going on a crime spree with the large man was too tempting to miss out on by being a pain in the ass. "But you're wrong, I have faith. Faith that if there is a God, He's either too impotent to stop us from doing what we want, or He wants us to do what it is we do. Either we are doing His work, or there is no point being concerned about His will. Either way, I intend to have as much fun doing that as I can~" Finishing the whiskey with a loud sigh of enjoyment, the small man gestured to the bartender for another drink, his posture like a bored child as he kicked out at the air from the barstool that was too high for him to put his feet on the ground, his bare ankles sticking out ffrom beneath his cassock. "Perhaps the angel has insight into God for us," he commented casually, bowing slightly in said girl's direction. |
![]() |
|
| DwagonKitsune | May 22 2018, 04:03 AM Post #6 |
|
'Hush now, they're not laughing at you...or what you ordered...' The Angel told herself when she heard Slade's and Ciaran's reactions. She had drawn a blank on what to order so decided to choose the first thing that popped into her head. Luckily for the minor the bartender was certainly a professional, pouring her drink without even a comment on her choice. When the murky liquid was placed in front of her though Sera paid in cash and pulled the drink towards her, excited. Before the Irishwoman could take a drink however the 'Father' turned to her. Irritation and murderous rage flared up in the girl before she squashed it down. A small frown was simply directed to the other as he spouted off in a strange, but familiar sounding, language. It took a few seconds for Seraphim to recognize it as gaelic, which she sadly never got around to learning. "I'm sorry, I don't know Gaelic" she replied. The Angel couldn't help but wonder why exactly this man spoke to her in that way. That he was Irish was unmistakable, but given his attire this was the last place Sera thought she'd be hounded by a religious fanatic. The first taste of booze was somewhat overwhelming for Seraphim. It had a lot going on, which she didn't expect. 'And here I was thinking that people drank this stuff because others did, or it gave them a 'buzz'' The Angel thought with amusement. The bartender had done a wonderful job of pouring the finicky drink, leading to a good first experience of an Irish beverage for an Irish native who found the drink was not only tasty and to her liking, but also rather filling for a liquid. Sera was so caught up in her drink that she almost missed Slade's comment about "warm beds" and the wink that he directed at the underage woman. Unlike most people, her mind didn't instantly jump to sex and she couldn't help but be confused and wonder 'Do people in Canada not have hot water bottles?' With the Angel's attention now partially on the two, she couldn't help but eavesdrop on their conversation. Not that they made it difficult, or even bothered to try any attempts to keep their topics a secret. They spoke of bank robberies and killing. The way the two spoke about it had tones of familiarity and nostalgia, which further confused Seraphim. She had originally thought that the man in the priest outfit had truly been a Father, albeit one in the completely wrong place. But as the conversation progressed she couldn't help but wonder if he was just playing dress up. Ciaran come off more as the type having fun with his guise, rather than an actual priest. This confusion lowered Sera's animosity to the Irishman. She was still of a mind to not like him, but not she didn't necessarily wish him a gruesome death. Before the Angel could ponder the whys of someone dressing up in such a way for such a place though, the two turned to her for her views on god. It was mildly annoying, Seraphim supposed, since everyone assumed that with her quirk she'd be religious. Still, she swallowed that to respond, not wanting to be rude. "As I see it, God either doesn't exist, isn't as powerful as people say, or is sadistic" the Irishwoman replied with a shrug, although her blue eyes showed her distaste in such a topic. "I don't care and so long as people don't try to shove their views on me, I will continue not to care about them." |
![]() |
|
| Infinity Gohan | May 23 2018, 10:48 PM Post #7 |
![]()
Taller than You
|
The man's overall chuckle at Seraphim had been for two major reasons: the first was the fact that her drink order was just so darn meek compared to his it was undeniably comical to the giant. Second only came to fruition when Seraphim brought the drink to her lips, Slade struggling to hold back a tried and true laugh as he saw her features light up with surprise. She was a right lamb, it seemed, fresh to this scenario and the idea of drinking overall, guessing it would take her a fair while to even get through the droplet of liquor, maybe even till closing time. The man's cocky nature could only contain the laugh for so long, especially with Ciaran pulling off a comedy routine next to him as he made puns about various church aspects, Slade chorlting away and slamming the table, the light buzz within him only widening his taste in comedy and sending him into a small fit of wheezes. Once he'd calmed down enough to focus in on the bar again, Slade picked out the fact that his drinking buddy had decided to switch up languages when talking to the new girl... So, he was trying to woo her with some show-off language skills, huh? Slade could only grin at the competition. "Oh yeah, well... ¿Donde está la biblioteca?" The man called out, wiggling his eyebrows as he dialed up every layer of charm he had. Highschool Spanish had yet to fail him in winning over a feminine creature's heart and he'd be surprised if it failed now. Well, that was his thought until he saw the girl's excessively confused expression after his "warm beds" tease, realizing that this dear might be a bit unprepared for his headlights. He was generally open to women of all walks of life, but the giant wasn't keen on chasing after someone who didn't even seem to quite know what sex was yet. His friend the priest meanwhile seemed to be in agreement with him over many a thing, well apart from laying heads on beds here. While not a cautious creature by nature, Slade was most definitely of the more thick-headed sort, taking Ciaran's meaning literally and giving a suspicious glance around the room as he considered a new place to sleep so as to avoid pink eye and lice. The behemoth's mood did improve, however, once he heard that not only was the Irishman familiar with the inside of a prison, but the break out of one too, a smirk on his face as he swiped at his nose, declaring, "Fun ain't my only game when busting out of the big house, but also making sure everyone knows that I'm the best at doing it! Warden got to wake up the next morning to no clothes, watch or toupee! Hahahah! Oh!" The man paused abruptly, slamming his drink down as he remembered something else the faux priest had said, grinning while he responded "And I'll have you know that I'm the damned most subtle thief whenever the hell I wanna be! How do ya know I haven't already stolen your wallet?" It was then that the man gave a dangerous look in Slade's direction, the man visibly growing more excited as a leaned forward slightly and spread the claws of his free hand, ready for a fight to show off his prowess. Unfortunately, the smaller of the pair almost instantly turned back to a more calm attitude, hinting at his own personal passion: killing. The brute scratched his chin in thought for a moment, considering the stranger's attitude before shrugging slightly and chugging the remainder of his third beer, wiping his mouth and stating, "Eh, killing's not my style. Don't get me wrong, I'm the best there is at bloodshed, that's a bonafide fact, but I just don't got the fire for all that "Seeing the white's of their eyes" crap. To me, nothing feels better than just having more than someone else, and thievin's the best way to tip the scales!" The man practically toasted to himself as he forced his pitcher down in a familiar fashion, chuckling as he awaited more booze. From there, it seemed like the girl was actually getting involved in all of this... though the theology talks were definitely weighing on the giant pup's already clouded head. Neither of them seemed a big fan of the church overall, considering what they were spouting off, while Slade himself held very small interest in the topic, being both too buzzed and too selfish to care about the grander universe and things like that. Still, the pair clearly weren't getting along, and while Slade was good and fine with tussles, arguments and bickering soured a mood. He'd need to patch these two up. "Well... ya know what I think..." The man started as he stood up, stretching his arms, eyes closed and a thin smile on his face as his back blocked out the light from a low hanging light behind him, his claws almost grazing the eight foot cieling as he brought them back down. In a deliberate movement, Slade snatched up Ciaran in one arm, holding the faux priest under his side as he picked up his drink with the other. Walking over to the Irish maiden. Slade seated himself on a bar stool over, propping Ciaran on one knee, not in the mood to peek down at both of the theologians as they gave their views. Taking a big sip of his drink, the brute continued, "I figure what's really out there don't mean squat till ya die, and till then, do whatever you want. Fifty-fifty chance you pay for it or ya don't, and don't know bout you two, but I've avoided a bunch of payments on my side... Fact, I really~ don't know you two!" The giant leaned back, head almost over the bar as he spread his arms, explaining, "Name's Slade Castle, ex-con, current thief, always handsome. Broken home story, all that jazz. Got lucky enough with my quirk to show the world whose boss. What about you strangers? Figure Father Shortstack for some kinda broken home story like mine, and you, Pint-sized Guinness, for... damn it, hate drawin a blank, gimme a minute..." The man would lay there, hand on his chin as he thought through what the girl's backstory could be. His first inclination was circus runaway, but somehow that didn't fit. Stupid booze, tasting good but making him think the not good... |
![]() |
|
| Reggie | May 24 2018, 04:10 AM Post #8 |
![]()
God of Destruction
|
"More tea?" he asked as he poured out a cup for himself ash he swung lazily in his crimson hammock, absorbing every ray of sun he could with the rare down time he had. Of course, he could be seen in cosplay, green shorts and shirt, spiked hair... very HxH. "So, Otōto-kun." he cooed, calling Gjoll is Brother. "I've been watching over Kull thanks to my quirk from where we are and those who use to roam. I am not sure why Kull appears immobile, but his followers are not. I am starting to think my investment in Kull to be over." he said with a smile, spinning the liquid in his cup as he idly stared into the depth of his cup. "Not that I question the choice of a younger, dumber man... one thousand years really does a number on one's mentality and personality." he chuckled as he started up a smoke. Between puffs of smoke, he spoke further. "I think we need to let her know we are still watching, hmm?" he asked even though Merc knew how Gjoll felt regarding Kull. "Wear our robes and show the world what a force of good actually looks like." he nodded as he offered Gjoll a drag, "I think I owe it to you, Otōto-kun. Let me explain to you, Crimson Grey Morality." After a long drawn out conversation, Mercutio rolled out his shoulders anxiously. Excitement boiled within Mercutio to the point of exploding. "This should be a real test of how far you've come. Ciaran at one point could have easily butt you on your ass back then... no offense, but now... I wouldn't know." he said as he started up the teleporter. "I can get you to the general location, but I have to use Kame House as an amplifier and conduit for my quirk... so, my pin-point accuracy isn't possible. I am sure you remember that one's scent." he went on, question Gjoll for what he knew, "Remember them?" he said pulling out the information he got from the Bookkeeper. "It's only half that amount, but I figured if you earned it, you could do as you wish with it instead of coming to Nii-san for cash, hmm?" he joked with a hard jab to his shoulder while Merc's quirk did the rest of the work, warping Kame House from the Isle of Mia into the snowy land of Canada for moment. Letting Gjoll gather his gear and supplies, he'd open and close the door for the young man. "I'll need that seal to get you, so try not using it, hmm?" he asked nicely, his playful tone still evident. [Exits] |
![]() |
|
| Neharo | May 24 2018, 04:11 AM Post #9 |
|
“Sure.” Gjöll responded gladly, holding his own cup to be filled again. The drink had become a very common thing for him to drink the last few years, largely to do with Mercutio being such of a fan of it. Over time the taste had grown on him and was now one of his favorites. The fact that he associated it with memories of his new home and family also helped this. He took took a few sips before continuing their conversation. “It’s not often we talk alone anymore, something up?” he asked the man who had adopted him as his brother, smirking at yet eccentric cosplay he had put together. His smile grew slightly at the endearing term the man used, only to fade at the mention of Kull. Mercutio had held an interest in Kull for as long as the teen had known him. While he had accepted that the Horde leader had a key role to play in maintaining the balance of the world, he would still never forget his first meeting with the dragon, or the injuries he had sustained from it. He would immediately perk back up when the Crimson King mentioned that he may finally be done with Kull. The Adrestrian leader would have no trouble noticing the teen’s mood instantly brightening up. “I couldn’t agree more.” he nodded in response to man’s suggestion. “With the declaration of war everyone thinks our family is nothing but mindless villains following a mass murderer. It’s almost as if recent revelations wiped everything good you ever did from their minds. It’s about time they be reminded what we really stand for.” He accepted the offer taking a drag of the smoke before handing it back to him. Gjöll listened intently as the man explained his concept of Crimson Grey Morality, his grin growing with the man’s excitement as he spoke. Looking through the document Merc had provided him he would find a picture, though slightly outdated, and a bounty. The bestial Adrestian would stare at it for a moment before closing his eyes focusing so he could connect a scent with the face. “Yeah I do. Helps I met him the same day I met you. Details and scents from important dates tend to be a lot easier to recall.” “Half of a number like that is still nothing to sneeze at. And yeah after fighting Huntress and having to get bailed out by Starlord during the Vitality’s attack, there’s a few things that I would things I’ve been looking into and this would definitely help.” He replied lost in thought for a moment before finally processing the joke. “Hey! I don’t come to you for money all the time. You just spend it on gifts for all of us anyways.” Quickly gathering the few things he would be taking with him he exited Kame house, taking note of Mercutio’s final warning to him. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, my hope is that it won’t come to that.” he replied, before adding a quick final not. “See you when it’s over, Brother.” HOSTILE INVASION It had only taken a couple days for him to reach Toronto and the the scene of the nightclub massacre. Of course the place was burnt to the ground, but it was a start. Another day or so of searching and asking questions to had revealed the Horde member hadn’t yet skipped town after his murderous rampage. If Gjöll had learned anything useful from the year he spent alone before meeting Mercutio it was how to gather information from the downtrodden souls that called the streets their home . Offered an average amount of respect and a little bit of kindness, they would tell you anything they could. With nothing to do but observe the world around them as they looked for their next meal, they could oftentimes tell you quite a bit. Eventually his search had pushed him toward “The Rusty Coffin” a local shithole that catered to anyone that wasn’t with the law. The scent grew even stronger as the Adrestian teen approached door of the bar. This was the place alright. Pushing the door open he would be welcomed by the chaos within. The last few days of searching had left him quite irritated having no patience to deal with any of this bullshit. Slamming his still gauntlet clad right hand against the wall as he entered to try and draw as much attention as people. “Everyone who wants to still be breathing tomorrow, get the fuck out. Now!” he roared across the room, stopping to correct himself upon seeing Ciaran and addressing him directly. “Everyone except you, I’m dragging your ass out of here myself whether it’s alive or not. Don’t suppose you remember me do you?” Even if the horde member did recognize him from two years ago he didn't expect the man to admit it. As he waited for a response from Ciaran or anyone else to take him up on his offer he would be on guard, ready for just about anything the patrons would throw at him. Gjöll wasn’t the most imposing figure standing just under six feet tall with a fairly average build. He didn’t expect many of the take him up on the offer to leave, but at least he had given them a choice. The only way any of them would likely recognize him was from the cloak he wore that linked him to one of the most dangerous men in the world. Summary Items |
![]() |
|
| Oirarana | May 24 2018, 05:17 AM Post #10 |
|
Ciaran frowned slightly at the response from the girl, must be from the North if she couldn't speak Gaeilge. He would have been amused by the behemoth's conversation, but then he found himself picked up and moved around, which left him both a little confused and irritated which basically put him in a neutral situation mood-wise. That was probably the safest result that Slade could have hoped for with his manhandling, all things considered. "Ciaran MacNamara, and broken home doesn't even begin to cover what I went through~" he introduced himself casually as he took another large drink of his whiskey, feeling the burn trace its' way down his throat and into his body. He would have said more but then a very rude individual burst down the door and started yelling, drawing a lackadaisical look from the petite Irishman who could only sigh as it seemed the man had come here to make threats against his own innocent personage. "I didn't bring him here Reginald, I promise. Unless it was you, did you bring him here Reggie?~" the false priest accused, pointing at the barkeeper whose name he still didn't actually know. Regardless, he put the drink down on the bar and got to his feet, a put upon look on his face as he slid the sash from his waist, throwing it back onto the bar along with the cassock he had been wearing, revealing the multipatterned costume he wore beneath it, skintight and a riot of colours he slid his Harlequin's kiss into place as a curved sword of bone emerged from his palm, the familiar grip in his hand like an old friend. He decided to forgo the mask he usually wore in these situations, since his face had already been seen. "I have no idea who the fuck you are, but I'm not going any where with you you pervert! Not even buying me a drink before you demand me to come with you, for shame!" he declared, crimson eyes glinting with amusement at the accusation. "You're not exactly my type, but enough booze and maybe.... maybe." He brandished his sword expertly, contemplating his options as he looked at the unfamiliar man, he hadn't really been looking for a fight tonight, and honestly just wanted to get drunk and have a bit of fun with people. But noooooooo, some dumbass who recognised him despite his dyed hair and habit of disguising himself whenever he did something obviously illegal had decided to spoil his evening. "Slade my new friend, if things go pear-shaped for me I'd really appreciate the hand. I'll even help you with a heist," he glanced at the angelic girl for a moment, but wasn't sure she'd be willing to help him even with their shared nationality. "Never going to be a prisoner, never again." His childhood had been nothing but horror the likes of which would never even make it to a movie screen, no matter what happened he had no interest in going back to that. Summary
|
![]() |
|
| DwagonKitsune | May 24 2018, 10:37 AM Post #11 |
|
Seraphim's education back home had been rather "average". While she knew about maths, english, sports, and the basics of science, she knew no other languages apart from english. She had picked up some Chinese and Japanese from her travels but sadly was far from fluent in any other language but her main one. When Slade spouted off his saying in Spanish all the Angel could do was shrug. She understood why Ciaran spoke to her in Gaeilge since both were Irish, but this one was out of the blue and just confusing. When it came to introductions, the Irishwoman was a little hesitant, especially when Slade started to try and guess their 'backstories'. While this was a strange bar that catered to criminals, Sera didn't want it to be common knowledge that she had killed both her parents and a priest in cold blood. "My name's Seraphim Mullen, but Sera is just fine" she introduced herself, pausing to think about what to say next. "And I'm just traveling the world at the moment, nothing special." What the Angel said was technically true. Many people traveled around the world so that in itself wasn't special, although her past would probably prove more interesting to her two companions. Before the conversation could continue someone burst through the doors, yelling at everyone to get out. This strange man singled out Ciaran, seemingly wanting to pick a fight with the dressed up dude. Sera didn't want to get tangled in all of this. After all she was still a bit iffy about him and certainly wouldn't help him in a fight. On the other hand, quite literally, was her first alcoholic drink that she was enjoying. The Irishwoman wasn't keen on wasting her money. nor was she willing to just pick up the glass and leave with it. After all that was stealing, and what would she do with a random glass? Mind made up, Seraphim cradled her precious Guinness and moved off to the side. She stumbled a bit as she started to move off, the young woman clearly a lightweight. Making sure not to spill a drop though the Irishwoman found another set and sat down, sipping her drink and watching the goings ons curiously. Summary items
|
![]() |
|
| Infinity Gohan | May 25 2018, 05:08 AM Post #12 |
![]()
Taller than You
|
There was a fairly clear mood shift from Ciaran as the man handled him without asking, something not uncommon for the burly thief to encounter throughout his socialization. His personal space between friends was less than nought, and wasting breaths on things like "Hey can we move?" or "Wanna go over there?" wasted more breath than simply grabbing them up and moving them himself. He was careful of the smaller man's drink though, still respectful of the sacred liquor in spite of his need for speed. With a plop, the motley group had assembled near Seraphim's spot and Slade attempted to get some backstory talk going over all the drab thoughts of what lay beyond, and while they were off to a good start, an interruption came forth with to squash the topic at hand. The door was swung open and some brand new short stack was making demands of the place, telling everyone to scat if they didn't want to be tenderized, picking out a soul occupant from the bar to stay behind. For a moment, Slade was excited, thinking he'd been picked out for some one on one... then the bar of villains actually cleared out, having an idea of who this guy was, and that made Slade very excited! Well, up until Ciaran hopped off his leg and approached the stranger. The thief's mood had an abrupt change, becoming excessively pouty as he realized the stranger who'd managed to clear out a bar of thugs and bandits was actually looking for a fight with the twerp and not him. He was important too, damn it! The bartender, named Reginald or otherwise, wasn't fully paying attention to the multi-colored clothed villain, more edging towards his shotgun as he glared at the damage in his wall, the bar having a strict "all fights outside" policy for a reason. The man's calm demeanour broken, his hand edged towards a shotgun beneath the bar but relented just so, having seen the cloak on television enough times to know that making a move against the stranger wouldn't net him a lot of good. Maybe they'd at least keep the damage small enough he could open the next day. With the bar tender's hand stayed, for the moment in any case, that left the establishment with nought but Ciaran, Seraphim, the stranger and a simmering Slade. Well, simmering until his drinking buddy said to join him in the fight if things looked like they were going pear-shaped for the midget, the giant's grin emerging once more as he raised his pitcher towards the no longer disguised Irishman and said, "You got it Ci-Ci Signore! Hehehe!" Leaning back over the bar to sneak some booze while the tender was distracted, the thief noticed the angel still there, genuine curiosity taking form as he picked out a drink at random, poured it in his cup and asked, "What's your deal with stickin it out sugar eyes? I mean, whether he asked for help or not I was gonna have my turn, but you don't strike me as the brawling type, so what's your deal with sticking around?" Summary
|
![]() |
|
| Neharo | May 26 2018, 03:37 AM Post #13 |
|
Much to the scruffy teen's surprise, the majority of the bar’s patrons cleared out at his command. Having not really left Elysium since before the news about the massacre in Africa was released to the public, he didn’t realize how many people would recognize him or take his threat seriously. Exhaling deeply, he instinctively enhanced his senses and agility, preemptively preparing himself for the fight that would inevitably happen. After everyone had cleared out, only Gjöll, Ciaran, the bartender, and two unknown patrons remained. A fanged scowl would find its way to the teen’s face as he noticed the man behind the bar reaching for something below. “I wouldn’t if I were you.” he growled in warning. “Oh thank God!” he cheered sarcastically as the Horde member dropped his disguise revealing the far more colorful costume beneath. “For a moment I thought you had gone through some weird change of heart. Would have totally killed the mood and made all this way more awkward... Almost didn’t recognize you at first, but you still reek of that godforsaken airship....Well...now that I think about it, maybe it was the airship that reeked of you.” Upon seeing a blade of bone emerge from the man’s palm, Gjöll extended the blades of his gauntlet in response. A sharp click resounded as they locked into place. Given the obnoxious requirement needed to make the claws withdraw, he was normally a lot more hesitant to use them. This time, however, The Adrestian doubted he would have any trouble sating the weapon. Ignoring the the man's pervert comment, he kept a careful watch his target and began to walk across the room towards him stopping a good three meters away. “You don’t remember me, huh?” He questioned as he moved.“Well I guess I never did give you my name, but I figured you would remember everything about that whole Dark Continent trip. Oh well, your loss.” “I wouldn’t recommend it.” The scruffy boy advised the hulk of a man Ciaran had addressed as Slade, as well as the girl who hadn't left. “I wasn’t kidding earlier, just being here is risking your life. Getting involved is basically forfeiting it.” ‘Just let him stay,’ the familiar voice of his savage subconscious whined internally ’I want more than just one to tear apart.’ ‘We’re just here for Ciaran,’ he internally scolded, before adding. ‘but if this idiot gets involved, I’m not going to stop you.’ “If you’re done fucking off, I think it’s time we got this over with. I don't have the same patience as Mercutio when it comes to this type of thing.” Gjöll growled, his excitement and blood-thirst beginning to get the better of him. With no further words exchanged he would quickly clear the small remaining distance between him and Ciaran, keeping on alert in order to avoid incoming attacks throughout his opening strikes. The first strike would come from the teen’s right hand, attempting to slash the arm that held Ciaran’s blade with his gauntlet's claws, but would easily be redirected to block the sword should he try to use it. The bestial teen would immediately follow this strike with another attempted attack, aiming at the man’s exposed face with his left hand its natural claws. Action Summary LP/Techs/Stats Items Edited by Neharo, May 26 2018, 09:44 AM.
|
![]() |
|
| Oirarana | May 27 2018, 07:37 AM Post #14 |
|
"Oh it's you, go on and yap little puppy, I'm not surprised that you can't take down healthy prey on his own~" Ciaran replied casually, feeling his still healing wounds from the Club restricting him from his usual strength. He had no idea how the hell the brat had found him, all witnesses had been killed and he'd only travelled by one of the Horde's jetbikes. It didn't really make much sense that he could have been tracked, even with the energy sensing the boy's boss had. "I got no idea what has you coming after me, but I'm not interested in dealing with you or your creepy sugar-daddy, go bother someone else who actually gives a damn about your little play." He remembered the kid being savage, and it was likely the chip on his shoulder had only gotten larger. If Ciaran had been at full health and not distracted with socialisation he would have relished the fight but right now he had little interest in the idea and even less interest in whatever it was that brought the puppy after him. That meant he needed to be careful, and not his usual self-destructive fighter. So he he'd have to play it a little more cautious than he would have liked. Fishing out something from his pocket, Ciaran could barely see as the puppy charged at him. His body moving more on instinct and his aim fairly good considering the straight line that the other man charged in, Ciaran lobbed the Punmeister 2000 straight at the man's face even as lashed out towards the other male's leg, hoping to injure him and thus limit his mobility. "I wondered why the ball was getting larger, but then it hit me" the small rubber ball declared as it hurtled towards Gjöll. Ciaran couldn't help but hope the pun hurt more than the pain. Unfortunately Ciaran's sword would be stopped by the bladed gauntlet, and the Irishman wasn't about to get into a wrestling contest with someone that was, if their last meeting together was any indication, likely much stronger than him physically. Instead the small man leapt backwards as quickly as he could, a few strands of hair falling between the fighters where Gjöll's claws had clipped Ciaran's fringe. Reaching out a hand to collect the hopefully uninterrupted rebound of the rubber ball, he realised that the shaggy-haired youth was moving just a bit faster than he could, and definitely faster than Ciaran's eyes could keep up with fast enough to respond to. Seems he'd have to rely more on insinct and reflex to even avoid the attacks, or he was going to get mauled by the rabid puppy. Luckily for him, he had years of experience to fall back on to help his instincts, and so far the shaggy haired youth wasn't doing anything too unexpected. "Careful you don't cut yourself on all that edge puppy~ I'm surprised you've been trusted with safety scissors, let alone sharp enough edge that even Ramiel would be concerned," Ciaran said with a broad grin, his sword held in a guard position even as he pressed the pun button on the ball again. "I wanted to see a lot of animals at the zoo, but they only had a small dog. It was a Shih-tzu" Ciaran began to walk to the right, focusing on Gjöll even as he put himself in a position where he could keep an eye on the bar as well. He didn't exactly like the idea of Reginald shooting him in the back or something as a method of de-escalating the situation. Nor did he want to risk the other two stabbing him in the back either. The small man was tense and ready to move, keeping his distance and knowing he wouldn't have much time to move if Gjöll attacked. Summary
Edited by Oirarana, May 27 2018, 07:53 AM.
|
![]() |
|
| DwagonKitsune | May 28 2018, 11:18 PM Post #15 |
|
As the fight unraveled in front of them Seraphim could help but shiver. She didn't know whether it was in delight, fear, or anticipation. Perhaps a bit of both. The Angel did plan on making a name for herself and culling those that needed to be. If she did she'd probably end up in such fights as this. 'They move so fast! I can barely keep up with them!....or keep upright on my seat now that I think about it.' The flurry of blows being traded, both verbal and physical, were difficul to follow, although Sera did her best. It seemed like the Angel would still have company though. Slade had taken note that she'd stayed behind, and seemed confused about the entire thing. 'Isn't an innocent little angel found in this place strange to begin with?' Seraphim thought, covering her mouth as she giggled at her own musings. The Irishwoman had only managed to get halfway through her tall glass, the alcohol affecting her. It seemed like she'd be a rather happy drunk. "Well, I payed for this, so I'm going to drink it" Sera explained to her large companion. She spoke a bit slowly, but whether or not it was to avoid slurring her words or because she thought it was obvious was hard to say. The Angel paused and looked at her drink before taking another sip. "And I'm not going to steal something like this glass. That'd be rude and useless." Summary
|
![]() |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
![]() Our users say it best: "Zetaboards is the best forum service I have ever used." Learn More · Register for Free |
|
| Go to Next Page | |
| « Previous Topic · Canada · Next Topic » |
- Pages:
- 1
- 2
















9:17 AM Jul 11




