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| ミッション: 八代醍 章嘉の日常生活; Part 1 of the Man closest to Sword Saint series; Graded | |||||
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| Tweet Topic Started: Aug 10 2016, 07:15 AM (670 Views) | |||||
| EraMemory | Aug 10 2016, 07:15 AM Post #1 | ||||
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Link to Mission Details Link to thread before site move *continue* |
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| Deleted User | Aug 10 2016, 07:23 AM Post #2 | ||||
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· Post #1 Era (Jul 26) Man closest to Sword Saint Mission Part I "Is the tea not to your liking?" Yashirodai Akiyoshi sat in his seiza stance, his weight resting on legs folded formally upon the mat, back upright and unshaken despite the uncomfortability of such a sitting position. He didn't mind it; oft he sat in the seiza, even in the privacy of his own, for hours on the end, either writing, painting or simply just meditating. The pressure and discomfort it distilled, he had adapted to a long time ago as a child, under threat of cane by his father should his posture slacken even a little; but more than anything, it was the discipline of the continuation of tradition that demanded he abide to his own rules. Pouring the clear liquid with a tinge of faint green from the earthen pot into his guest's cup, he refilled it silently, turned the cup clockwise thrice and pushed it towards his guest in an respectful offering gesture. "Please, drink it while it's hot. The tea is at it's peak of flavour at the point between boiling and cooling." The clear shine of an early afternoon spilled into the room from the open doors behind the guest, throwing a long silhouette of shade off him. Its touch provided the barest whisper of warmth on the skin, a reassuring caress of Kyoto's fine weather. Birds chirped outside in celebration on the perches of the barren plum trees, not yet season for them to flower. The garden that circled Yashirodai's manor was filled with such trees and more, and during blossom the foliage of blends of pink, light fuchsia, lavender and green was a beautiful sight to behold, comparable to the likes of the nearby Nijo castle, only free of the crowds that would gather so. Yashirodai took a sip of his own cup, using both hands- one to lift, the other to support the bottom of the cup- to raise it to his lips, before placing it down and arranging it back to its designated position in a meticulous but practiced fashion. He was a man of taller proportions compared to the average Japanese, and had a firm bone structure to support his height well. Despite his steeped age, having celebrated his isoji 50 years of age in January, Yashirodai wore age well, lines of wisdom centering near his temple and at his eyes, only serving to further accent his distinguished figure. He had long, smooth black hair that was worn back in a traditional ponytail neatly, and his cheeks were slightly sallowed. His lips were dark, thin; and they looked like they belonged to a man that didn't smile often, but when he did, it was something to be grateful for. Looking up, Yashirodai inclined his height into a slight bow. "Once again, I thank you for gracing my humble self with your presence. If it is within my power, I, Yashirodai, will be host to you and see that your stay here will be of the most comfort, and that all your needs are furnished... Don Vongola." Yashirodai bowed again to the young heir of the Vongola name, who had only recently come of age. "But I must beg of your comprehension and apologize, once again. To reiterate; I understand where you come from, Don Vongola, and your need to make allies after the tragedy befallen upon your kin. But the Yashirodai family, and by extension Hashinotsume Co. & Industries, and all other firms under my name, cannot afford to be associated with the Vongola family. You must understand, that those publicly known to be acquainted with those of your trade, that the Vongola are so famously attributed to, will suffer backlash from the media, and by proxy, the masses and other political parties." Yashirodai bowed a third time, this time sinking into a deep bow, exposing the back of his neck to the young master of hitmen, and placing both hands on the tatami floor as customs demanded of him. He had spoken in crisp, perfect English of a distinguishable Cambridge accent. Raising his head, the steadfast man of utmost righteousness stared forward, his eyes aglint with a calm strength and steel that was not to be broken by the fiercest winds Chibi Jul 26
Era Jul 26 A faint smile touched Yashirodai's lips. " '-dono' will suffice." He said, his voice smooth as velvet. "I am aware of the common Western misconception of the order of surnames and last names; but Yashirodai is the name of my fathers, and thus should be the one to address me with. And, '-dono' will suffice." He smiled, not unkindly, at the young man. He recognized that the boy had done his homework, and was eager to show his respect; but for all the mantles of titles he carried, the Third was still barely more than a boy, and had just only started filling up shoes far too large for him, that he had never thought he would wear, at least this fast. He could understand the boy's plight, and forgive him for the slight faults. His eyes twinkling with quiet delight, Yashirodai observed as the boy drank the tea more than readily. Japanese tea was an acquired taste; but he was obviously not averse to it. However, more than that, the fact that the boy had been able to drink tea that was only just boiled without a complaint was impressive. "I see you're no stranger to heat." Yashirodai observed, his eyes flickering over to an almost fiery demeanor that swept the Third's hair and the orange-red hearth kindling in the irises of the young Don. Bowing at the young man's understanding and expression of his respect, Yashirodai shook his head humbly. "I am no more than a humble man, Don Vongola, and in no way am I greater than you, or anyone else. No man is greater than anyone else- fame, prestige, riches means nothing to define one's character. But it is the Japanese way to bow to show our respect to our equals, as well as to remind oneself not to be lulled into a sense of self-delusion in our status. I would be most grateful, if we are to be considered equals." The grandmaster waved an arm, and the doors slid open to allow a maidservant to step through. She bowed in Yashirodai's direction, and the man bowed back, a exemplary example of his earlier expression not to prejudice between those of lower stature. The maidservant stepped into clear the teaware. "I would be most honored to, Don Vongola. However-" Yashirodai glanced towards the maid, who nodded in affirmation to his suspicions. "- it appears your room is still being prepared. How about a switch in schedule, then?" Rising, the swordmaster got to his feet in a fluid action, his toes taking his entire body weight during the rise without complaint. He moved towards the door and stepped aside, gesturing with a beckoning arm of welcome. "This way, please." The pair moved through the manor, heading to a new room. This room was fitted with tatami mats, as usual, but it was far more spacious, and devoid of any furniture in the middle of the room. It was, as one might have guessed, a room that acted as sparring ground. Moving to a rack, Yashirodai picked up a wooden shinai sword of bamboo, and held it out to his guest. "Are you familiar with the sword, Don Vongola?" Kid Jul 27 "Today is the day" The boy who's name wasn't at all important in status said not to far from the dwelling of a grandmaster, his expression strong, and his eyes set in a determined glare. Not that he had any real equipment to prepare him for this job, he made sure the things that he brought were in proper place so he wouldn't be caught to quickly, or even at all when he went taking from riches to give to an independent party. Strapped up in black faded running shoes, a long sleeved shirt that wasn't suit for his size, but would match the aggregation of green plants in the man's garden, and a black bag balled up in the sock to his shoe, makoto was pretty sure he had all he could ever need to pull off his first major robbery today without much fail... Least that's what he thought anyway. After all, he was looking for some place that was worthy of this event for awhile, this place seemed to fit the description nicely, almost to well if you asked him. This wasn't exactly his reason for coming to japan in the first place, this was supposed to be a mother, son trip, a time for hi to just lay back on enjoy himself or whatever but, after the events that unfolded on his first day of coming to japan, he knew something like this was going to happen sooner or later. Besides, it wasn't like they were rich or anything, and it certainly wasn't like whoever owned this place was going to be looking for whatever they were missing so, why not rob them? The kid with a incongruous haircut planned to take stuff from this place many days ago, deciding what he was going to need, what he was going to do, and where he was going to steal from first all to long ago! Least that's what he would want the reader to think. Makoto only thought it necessary to plunder this place when he saw it the other day and not day before. His inexperience with this sort of thing would show in how he was geared up but, that could all be taken care of somewhat. Taking in a deep breath, he didn't have time to be blown away by the nice looking garden right now! He was supposed to be robbing this bitch! Getting his head in the game somewhat, the young figure would start to fade, shirt and all as he stepped cautiously towards the place, changing on his command to blend in with the surrounding environment, though one shoe would be left visible if one was to spot him sneaking his way into the enchanting garden. Sure that no one could see him in the assortment of pretty living things incapable of locomotion, itou started to carelessly speed through them in a low crotch, searching for some type of open door or whatever he could possibly sneak his way into, and happened to find one that a woman was occupying at the moment. Mmm, he could hardly focus on leaving his shoes in the garden.That was a bewitching figure there, he absolutely had to know what color panties she had o--No! Makoto focus! You can do this, you are not going to get off topic right now. Pushing off his toes with every hard step, his body was arched forward while he sped quickly for the opening that one fiery quirk user was sitting in prior to him leaving with the owner, slowing down considerably once he made it towards the opening so he wouldn't have to to keep the flow from fucking his shit up, and sliding in that place with a smooth transition. All that was left to do now was make sure that he was behind her with each steady step, making sure not to give himself away by stepping whenever she went to take one until he was able to venture out of that room. Would be a waste of time to come back to this room anyway. Nothing to grab in there. Chibi Jul 31
Era Jul 31 The maid noticed not the burglar sneaking behind her, a comedic reenactment almost taken out of old cartoons where the mischievous prankster would follow in their pursuer's footsteps, the pursuers being none the wiser. Oblivious of the uninvited presence, the maidservant simply went up the stairs, to a turn down the corridor and entered another room. This room was, unlike the first one, obviously meant to be a living quarters of sorts. At first glance everything already looked spick and span; but obviously she deemed it too unkempt for the standards of one who would be Yashirodai's guest. So as not to sully her employer's name, the maid went to work with deft, seasoned hands; laying out the mattress futon and smoothing it's already creaseless blanket over, fluffing up a pillow and arranging it to exact millimeters in the center, switching both the water and the fresh flowers on display in a carefully, purposefully arranged selection of flowers of vivid hues and contrasts, polishing the wooden table to a waxed surface that could be used as a mirror and placing the customary Japanese snacks and bites in a little basket on it. She went on and about arranging all the furniture by minute differences, in pursuit of a perfect balance, before proceeding to dust the room, its cleanliness already such that it could be counted by the speck. "Good." Yashirodai smiled gently, the wisdom lines around his eyes crinkling. He placed the shinai firmly into the Third's hands, and stepped back. "First, we bow." Yashirodai said, lowering his head to offer his respects to his opponent before the match, as was customary of spars. He rose, his movements unhurried, evident playing the role of a tutor at the moment. "Next, we take a stance." His body stiffened momentarily, and Yashirodai moved his lead leg forward, bending it slightly to support his weight, while shifting the other back to act as his stand of balance. He positioned his weight at the waist with utmost care, and brought the shinai forward. His strong fingers gripped the blade in a firm grasp, and he raised the blade to position it before him the standard chudan no kamae stance, the sword's base at waist level and its blade strut out towards the Third, ready to catch a incoming thrust or move into a swift strike as and when needed. A basic form all beginning students learnt, balancing both offense and defense. His body than relaxed, akin to a feline cat the very moment before it prepared to jump onto the windowsill, all liquid muscle and steel. "Now," Yashirodai said, "We spar. As your people say; On guard." kid Aug 1 It was evident his skills in sneaking around various places in new york was put into good play when he came to this abode. His steps, silent and cautious, never seemed to cause a thud louder than the maids did, and he was certain she was going to go all over the place with a spark to thoroughly clean it in mind. The opportune moment was here, all he had to do now was stalk the oblivious, mature, well aged and...mmm...The thoughts of this caused his lids to slightly narrow. He thought deeply about a few lecherous things a normal teenager would think of-except with younger women- as he went up the stairs, turning down the corridor and stood pressed up against the wall of the room's entrance. There was where he became visble, couching down to peek into what was viewed normally as a sort of guest room or bed room? Makoto slowly started to become visible while stationed in a position he was certain the employee wouldn't note. So, this is where this rich bastard sleeps. Funny, thought there would be better materiel in here than some flowers, a futon, a table, and a...Wow that actually looks pretty good! The boy mused as he watched the woman doing her damnedest to make the room spotless...Did she do something like this for her employer everyday? Maybe there was more to it or he was thinking to much. Thinking thoughts that were clouded by his goal to steal all those snacks and bites, and by the woman's maneuvers. This wasn't the right tie to strike...then again. When was the right time to do so? Maybe whenever she was ready to leave the room. Or whenever he heard the sound of others approaching the same direction. Either way. It was either he was certain he would collect what he wanted, or it was an act of desperation. chibi aug 3
Era Aug 4 Unfortunately, the riches the crook was looking for was not to be found here. Though well-furnished, the room had little of value, and was only meant to be a comfortable abode of hospice for the guests of the Yashirodai residence. The corridors outside might have some paintings or calligraphy that might be worth a penny or two for those appreciative of art, but nothing yet of the kind of jackpot-redeeming level was to be found yet. At any rate, the maidservant finished her duties, took one last look around the room to make sure everything was arranged just where they were supposed to be, and left, sliding the door behind her shut with Makoto within, still unapparent of her tail. Yashirodai's eyes played over the Third, appreciating the youth's effort to get accustomed with the shinai, feeling its weight, getting used to its length, like a good driver getting a feel of any new vehicle for the first time. The youth may not be a swordsman, but he could tell he had handled one before, and it was definitely not his first rodeo with combat. The boy had taken up a forward, one-handed stance, in converse to Yashirodai's double-handed grip. One-handed styles weren't uncommon, and it wasn't Yashirodai's first time going up against an improvised fighting style from a near-complete beginner, but for a man that had been so deeply rooted in orthodox styles and swordplay for his whole life, the recklessness and unpredictability of those weren't trained in the same disciplines and approaches as him provided him the most trouble. The ability to think out of the box, unbound by the same rules he and all swordsmen had been taught to abide, had caught him by surprise on more than one occasion, their deviation from conventional swordplay sometimes in ways he had never imagined. Of course, most of the time pure skill and refined efficiency in the art of sword-to-sword combat won him the match anyway, but he had stuttered more than once in a blue moon against a maverick wild card. So he wouldn't take the young man lightly. Steeling his grip, Yashirodai bobbed his blade briefly before his opponent, testing the distance between them and reading the minute nuances in his opponent. He edged half an inch nearer, his toes digging into the tatami and heels dragging behind in follow, the minute amount of distance feeling like a mile's worth in the battle. The air grew tense between the two men in response to their conflicting intent, so tense it felt it could snap like a string of finest steel, cutting all in their way at the slightest touch. His eyes trailed to Angelus' sword hand, keeping mindful of its reach, and calculating the different paths both blades could take and cross within the next few instants. The grandmaster paced his breath, letting them flow as one with his blade. His eyes closed, almost peacefully slow, and he let himself finish the blink freely. The tip of his blade dipped, just half a head down, for a moment. Then he sprang forward, the wooden shinai now crackling through the air like a streak of lightning, and he clashed it against Angelus' guard with ginormous force, the resulting impact of wooden blade against wooden blade meeting making a cracking sound like a thunderclap. The seme iniative to rush forward met his purpose to close the distance and meet his opponent's guard in a collision of blades, forcing a clinched tai-atari, and making full use of the momentum of his rush and his bigger frame and mass, Yashirodai gave a powerful push against his end of the blade, one so powerful it could have lifted men heavier than the young mafia assassin clean off his toes. Kid aug 4 The unfortunate child spellbound by bodacious maturity with a hint of lascivious motive chose the opportune time to strike, that time had to be right when the servant decided it was safe to close him up in the room with all those lovely snacks left out for...Oh. There was no doubt about it from the moment he started ripping the black baggie hidden in his sock out from the corner. None at all. This was a guest room. Not thinking to much into it while he pried open the bag, his spare hand took hold of the basket to twist it where the candy would slide on down. His eyes, glaring at the shut door the entire time never left, his hands quickly and skillfully pushing the bag in the back of his shirt before tying it neatly around his neck. So, there were two people to worry about in this place now? That wouldn't be much of a problem if he played his cards right. Placing the basket back where he took it, makoto did an unprofessional, yet silent forward roll mimicking that of some secret agent's he would watch on the t.v. Landing near the door, and cracking it open. Yup, that maid hadn't suspected a thing, even if that whole minor robbery was quickly executed. It was from this point where he would start going down the corridors taking whatever painting looked exquisitely takeable without the guidance of the maid, stuffing them in his bag one by one but, he had a feeling there was something he was really missing from this entire thing. The good shit. From that point on, he would find ways to descend throughout the residence of yashirodai, smiling to himself from how excited he was, and how well all this was turning out. There had to be something on a lower level, since this higher one wasn't all that great. chibi aug 8
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| EraMemory | Sep 19 2016, 05:48 AM Post #3 | ||||
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The man with the tray's journey down the poorly lit stairways led to a heavy-looking door, forged of crude reinforced steel, the material used to forge safes. There wasn't any particular high tech security installed; instead, they had opted for the traditional bolt and locks, three not counting the locked door itself. The servant rapped thrice on it, the sound dull instead of a ringing typical of metal due to the sheer density of the door. He opened a latched, revealing a seehole through within, though it was too dark to make out anything but vague shapes in the darkness within. "Mealtime!" The servant called out, shouting through the open hole. "Try to keep something down this time." Setting the tray of food down, he started to go to work on the locks, unlocking each of them systematically with a series of keys kept on a chain. All the while, he still remained oblivious to the lurking shade of Makoto behind him, having taken the place of his shadow. Two of the bolts had been unlocked, and the man was starting to dislodge the third one, when suddenly alarms blared and went off. The man's head whipped back, startled; and then jumped again when he saw the figure of Makoto behind him. "H-Hey!!" He yelled out. "Who are you!? Where did you come from!?" Makoto was discovered; though by no fault of his. There had been no sign of him triggering any alarm throughout his shopping trip through the mansion; someone else had tripped the alarm other than him, and he was just paying the price their mistake. How would he worm his way out of the current predicament? Meanwhile, the floors above were in turmoil at the sudden blare of alarms. "Gather the guards!" The cheif steward yelled into the walkie talkie, hands gesturing in three different directions like a crazed conductor, attempting to muster what order he could in this chaos. "Round up the units and send one to inspect each key location; concentrate on the basement!" He pressed a white cloth to his forehead, wiping sweat and stifling the beginnings of a migraine. "And where is the emergency specialist consultant we hired? Get him to come here and earn his pay!" The sounds had not evaded Yashirodai's attention. He paused in the match, staring up at the blaring silens with a perplexed expression, before turning towards Angelus. "My apologies, young master. It appears a situation has propped up." He made an apologetic gesture. "I am afraid our match must be put on hold, and we will have to request you retire early today. My attendants will see you to your quarters." Two men came up to them, bowing respectfully, as they escorted the young mafia don away. Edited by EraMemory, Sep 19 2016, 05:52 AM.
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| Kid | Oct 9 2016, 11:08 PM Post #4 | ||||
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Everything was going smoothly till the alarms were kicking into high screech, startling him and the guy right in front of him for a second or two. Both of them turned to look behind them, both seeing shadows but, the difference was he somehow knew makoto was that shadowy figure behind him. Freezing up for a second, he'd normally try to run on out of this place and hope for the best but, this time around, he'd hop up into a mid-air turn, thrusting his invisible foot into the throat of that random guy. When he landed, the transparency of his form was starting to vanish, so he'd have to be quick about this slew of events if he wanted to get to the basement. Shifting backwards just to distance himself for a bit, he started to pounce and hop in weird patterns to throw the pursuer off his intended game, foolishly making his way back to the stairs in hopes of escaping. I come from the shadows to uncover the darkest of evils! I am your lord's son you dingus, could you not tell from my appearance alone! He'd say in the most batmany voice he could muster, standing proudly makoto would clutch onto his robish thing with pride. "I just arrived to visit father and must have tripped the alarm, he sent me to check on him" Good thing he knew Japanese and English fluently or else this would have been that much more unbelievable. |
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| SqwhirlGuy | Oct 10 2016, 02:42 PM Post #5 | ||||
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Thud, Thud. Thud, Thud. Thud, Thud. A rhythmic pattern echoed through the building, A young girl, pale in complexion, sat alone. The room which held her contained curtains, beds, terribly tacky potted plants and the ever so typical window next to the bed's for dramatic effect. She alone sat inside a medical room, her feet tapping the wall behind her as she stared into the ceiling, the porous ceiling seeming to beckon her. She counted the holes, 46,731, tried to see if every tile was made identical, they weren't, and even tried to see how many of them where poorly cropped, 2. She was bored as all hell. While her more traditional, albeit over apologetic, nature had scored her this interview and thusly a job in the medical wing, no one really seemed to need her. When people were hurt they called the people around her, when they needed coffee, she brought it back too cold, it just kind of sucked to be here. Her cold blooded nature had made it so people often contemplated whether or not they wanted to be in her presence. She wore a parka, sky blue with a number of native designs, not for herself as she produced no heat, but for everyone else. Containing the heat stealing portion so she wouldn't function as a glorified A/C. She had organized magazines, she watered the plants, fixed the beds and even memorized various pages of the handbook. But alas there was nothing to really do. The girl plopped herself onto the ground, her feet landing together and her arms sweeping back as she began to practice a series of techniques. Her fanning hands created slight traces of ice on the floor as she brought them down from above herself, pushing her palms together as she bowed. Naomi slid her right foot apart, hitting a deep horse stance as she swept her arms in beautiful arcs. She inhaled, the breath escaping her body sluggishly as she focused, her eyes closing and reopening as she brought her attention forward. Pulling her right arm back she prepared, inhaling once more and holding it this time while she took aim. It was time for her legendary frost bite fang, a technique taught to her by her grandfather. As she flexed and began the motion, an alarm began screaming throughout the building. Her hand thrust forward, taking her off her feet as she lost focused and let out a slight scream. "Ah!" Tumbling into the floor and laying in a mess on the floor. "...uhhhh....Zam." She whined as she picked herself up, her legs forming a 'W' as she sat up and scratched her head. That would have hurt more without her coat. As she began to numb the feeling on her head, reducing her own temperature to do so, a man rushed inside the room, screaming something she barely understood over the alarms."AH!" She screamed again, this time a thick icy helmet surrounded her head. She looked a tad upset, speaking to the man in what sounded like a deaf man speaking through a pillow through a like sheet of steel. That man spoke back, shouting as he once had, but she couldn't make out a word her said. That's when it clicked. She raised a hand, focusing on her construct as it shattered and she shook away the shards of ice. As she did she heard the man say something about emergency, making her face light up and her ears stand up."Yes, Zam! Finally! I'll be right there, Zam!" Naomi jumped to her feet, gripping the man by his hand and rushing down the hallway. At this point the alarms might as well have been playing tip toe through the tulips as she skipped down the hall, absorbing the man's heat through his hand as she did so. Not having a care in the world because she was about to be helpful. Little did she know she wasn't the emergency consultant specialist they hired. Whoops. Edited by SqwhirlGuy, Oct 10 2016, 02:43 PM.
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| EraMemory | Oct 11 2016, 12:03 PM Post #6 | ||||
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OOC: @kid If you're RPing as if Invisibility is in effect, you should've RPed something about shedding your clothes and stripping naked like Hagakure. Considering you were RPing having a bag and stuffing stuff inside, you can't be invisible. I will interpret it as if you're hard to see, though. BIC: The servant choked as Makoto's feet struck his throat, driving him backwards and gasping. Collapsing into a pile onto the ground, the blurry boy sprang away, light contorted around him as if looking through an especially thick layer of glass, making his features appear indistinct and unfocused. He bounced off the walls within the tight quarters, using an erratic set of movement patterns to leap past each startled guard or attendant, zig-zagging through their midst like an overactive rabbit dosed high on codeine. To add to the festive commotion he was generating, he had began loudly declaring himself as the master's son, berating them in an over-reacting display of inane drama. "That isn't the young master! Apprehend this miscreant at once!" The cheif steward ordered, pointing a spindly finger at the dark blur. A dozen guards and attendant swerved forward at Makoto; but their efforts were uncoordinated, messy and confused, and they mostly ended up getting in each other's way. Combined with the overall blurred effect of the young theif and his agility on his feet, it wasn't hard for him to evade and lose them round one of the corners somewhere. Meanwhile, the whole hulabaloo had attracted the attention of their in-house interning medical specialist, come to investigate the source of the din. The steward noted her approach and hurried over to her, careful not to touch her carelessly, lest they be left with frostbite, a common accident they'd gradually learnt to avoid since the past month. "Ah! Wong-san! Please, do take care; some uncouth louth has found his way into the premises! Dear me so, I wonder how- I really must have a word with the watchmen on duty. Please retire to a safe distance!" What might have slipped everyone minds, was that in this commotion, everyone had left their posts; leaving the underground cellar quite unguarded. And the locks were already half unlocked, the batch of keys lay lying to one side, sitting pretty for any stray picker with a sharp eye... |
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| Kid | Oct 13 2016, 12:30 AM Post #7 | ||||
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Being fucked harder than mia khalifa wasn't a fun position no matter how much you'd try to fool someone into thinking it, and in all honesty, he was surprised how long his invisibility had been up thus far since he hadn't exactly mastered it... Hints the shifts between him turning visible and invisible. Luckily enough it kept on going, and he started to flee through the bunch of knuckle-headed guards by swiftly moving betwixt their inaccurate grabs and dives. Makoto ran and ran till he came around a random corner in the house, noticing that it'd been the one that he was pinned to when listening intently to whatever it was that was going on at the lower levels. Looking around, he silently laid the stuff he'd equipped himself down, stripping completely butt naked, and pushing back down the way he came up for some reason. He was determined to find out what they were talking about, what was the deal with the person getting whatever it was down there? And would the discovery bring him the most cash? He could honestly blackmail someone like their boss if anything, though he'd need to gather much more evidence and probably come back later to take a few pictures of the place. Expert spy level things he wasn't capable of... SO! He'd take the man, whoever he was, as proof. Coming back down the steps, he'd leap up and kick the man in the lead back on down the steps , riding the tumbling wave as if he was surfing till they all got down to the bottom. Silently stepping between the fallen guards, he'd sneakily make his way back to spot the keys to the door just lying there... Just for him. Well, the key's weren't jingling much, but now they were floating, and that just meant he had to be quicker about unlocking the door than he'd thought originally. Since he was still close to the group, he got among them and shouted in the manliest voice he could provide."HE'S GOING BACK UP, HE'S TRYING TO GET AWAY!" |
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| EraMemory | Oct 15 2016, 09:25 AM Post #8 | ||||
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Makoto's call did add futher confusion to the already considerable state of pandemonium in the mix, but in any case, he was left unmolested by the guards searching to and fro for the person they couldn't find, never suspecting that he'd return to the original scene of discovery. The remaining locks were worked through without much issue- you'd think a man living in a place as big as this would have opted for more advanced security systems, but thank god for him being a person of tradition. Once the door swung open, the now fully-invisble theif would find himself immersed in a dark room, lit only by a few dim oil lamps that offered little luminence. Stray moths lingered by the flame, their flitting wings beating as they danced, entranced by the mesmerizing beauty of the flickering flames, oblivious to the corpses of other winged insects that had made the same mistake of lingering too near, scattered all around the fire. Once Makoto's eyes accustomed to the darkness, he would notice a few things, as dark shapes fell into focus. A large furnace, unlit laid back against the wall, cold and barren without the hearth of its heart being aflame. Other tools laid scattered around- anvils, workbenches, tongs and hammers- this wasn't just a cellar. It was a forge. Nearest to him was a table with several documents and papers laying scattered and unarranged. A closer inspection, should he choose to investigate, may reveal some very enlightening things. In the middle of the room there was a small metallic silverware pot, with small holes in its ornamented lid, from which streamed thin trails of faint smoke. Within, something had been burnt, perhaps still kindling quietly; an incense, of sorts. And though Makoto might not detect any early effects as of now, he might perhaps be able to smell a faint whiff of rosemary and date palm. And last of all, of course, the elephant in the room- or rather, just a man. A man, depreciated, in early stages of malnourishment, hung with his wrists chained to the side, spread like a perversion of the Christ's crucifix. Dark, ragged hair hung down in spidery, tangled, knotted strings, and there was a smell afoul about him that suggested he hadn't bathed in days. |
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| Kid | Oct 29 2016, 02:30 PM Post #9 | ||||
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Alright makoto, you got the door open with no real issue, and the scary people trying to capture you all went away. Now, all he had to do was not get into anymore trouble and this thievery should go smoothly. Once that door did swing open, the darkness that greeted him on his way in didn't calm him in the slightest, instead it kind of made the situation with his rabbit heart a bit harder to keep under control. Couldn't turn back now, he was already shuffling his way into the dim place, wincing while listening to the flickering of a near-by flame. His eyes adjusted and nearly popped at a number of things in the room. Most notably the hung malnourished guy, the person everyone must have been talking about before hand. But, why in the world was this random dude chained up like this? The several tools and forging equipment made it evident that this had been a room used for torture, and the more that he considered the fact, the more he didn't understand what was going on. Maybe he could look over scattered documents on that table near-by, but he was a bit disappointed there wasn't any grand sage in a room full of women and money there. Sucking up his crushed hopes and dreams, he'd guess he really did have to go with his plan of blackmail if he wanted to get anywhere with his discoveries; no matter how vague they were. Straightening up the papers on the table in a stack, he lifted them up to his face and started briskly reading through them. Placing the ones he was finished with back on the table, and starting to wrinkle up his face from the disgusting smell. What in the world was that!? That might have been the scariest thing he'd smelt to date, and what made it worst was the fact that he knew it was coming from that dying guy. Maybe, he should question him after he was...done here. There was no way he was making it out with this guy from all these guards swarming the place;however, he could leave with these papers if they had any incriminating details over them. |
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| EraMemory | Oct 30 2016, 07:37 PM Post #10 | ||||
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無個性
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In the poor, flickering light, Makoto's eyes skimmed through the papers. Many seemed to contain exchanges of letters- letters with dark content, though obviously penned by a learned man of literature, the calligraphy precise and masterful enough to be a work of art. They told of exchanges and unethical deeds and practises. Some seem to implicate that the bearer indulged in the unlawful killings of human supplied by the intended recipient of the letter, by blade- ranging from decapitation, to the cleaving of a living body, all in the name of testing their blade. Others indicated regularly held deathduels between parties, secret matches to the death for the sole purpose of honing one's art in swordsplay. No letters of reply were ever found amongst the batch the Makoto held. Others were more customary billings, or archivings; such as the hiring of a hitman to Hawaii to eliminate some French Proffesor. And then there were notes and memos, sometimes with designs and formulas pertaining to the makings of a blade, of which details were too complex for an outsider's mind to divine. The faint sweetness in the air seemed to grow stronger- or, at least, if not increased in potence, then perhaps simply just one's awareness of it. It might tickle Makoto's nose. The prisoner detained in this dungeon of sorts let out a long, rattling breath- but otherwise, he responded not to any external stimuli. He seemed to be in a state between conciousnesses; his breaths were ragged and shallow, as if having run a mile, but soft and breathy, as if in a deep sleep. The chains that bore him were thick and strong, and would not give way soon under any pressure. The incense was sweet. Crushed rosemary and the essence of palm dates- a fragrance at once both arresting and enticing to the senses. It made one's mind wander... betimes, one might catch himself thinking of some faraway thought that had slipped away like air between one's fingers; even for Makoto, in such a intense situation, might catch himself being distracted sometimes. More than anything, there seemed to be overpowering sensation to harken to the scent. Outside, the voices was getting higher, more panicked. It was only a matter of time before the locked cellar would be discovered, when the guards scoured the grounds; and then, naked to the visible eye or not, pun much intended, Makoto would be hard-pressed escaping their clutches. Best to take what he could for now, and return at another venture. If Makoto chose to slip away, he would be able to slip between the unwary guards' notice while they were occupied by the facet of what they could see, escaping from the Yashirodai grounds in the darkness; the biggest danger to him the nip of a cold as he ventured through the streets in the nude. There was no denying it now; the smell was, intoxicating. It was a drug, that compelled one to enslave themselves to it, to prostrate before its fragrance and succumb like so many others before. Like a seductress it played and toyed with the fringes of the minds, fraying them at the edges, drawing one into a mad desire for it. All at once, the strength of its pull would lead Makoto to realise he had outstayed his welcome; and that any more would place him under the sway of whatever mind-mistifying compound that plagued the dungeon. It was too bad for the prisoner here; but there was no time or immediate way to free him without Makoto himself being caught at the moment. He had to remain here, prison to both chain and inhalant, and perhaps another time, better prepared, Makoto might be able to return and glean more from him. (You can end the thread and clear the first part of the mission for now) |
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| Kid | Nov 1 2016, 11:53 PM Post #11 | ||||
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Speed reading through the string of papers, makoto's brow lifted higher and higher the deeper he got into the crimes. This was just a mess, nothing but a terrible, terrible mess. There was no real way he could see anyone justifying all of these underhand and strange acts on other human beings. Maybe this was the world of villains, but he didn't know it'd be this degree of bad. Almost jumping fro the sudden sounds erupting out the prisoners lungs, makoto had to stuff a hand over his face to keep himself from yelping; hoping no one heard him get startled as he finished up one third of the total stack. Sniffling at the sweet aroma in the room, he didn't know what overcame him, but he was starting to slowly turn visible the longer he remained in one place. The overbearing scent was taking over his senses, causing him to drop most of the papers off on the table, and him to stare into space at the words in front of him. Not even reading them at this point. As his lids narrowed, they snapped open after pressing into each other and made his eyes frantically scan the room. Nah, the voices were getting too close now, this must be some kind of fear making him react this way. He'd be lying to himself if he said he wasn't afraid of what they'd do if they caught him so, he crumpled up a fist full of letters and briskly chameleoned himself on the way out. Taking the hand that was covering his face off to look to the way he came, makoto would dash in a full on sprint up the stairs-there were lightly guarded by the way, taking off through the route he came, and sneaking passed the few people scattered around outside. All he could think of was getting home, he just wanted to go to bed or something. And even if he did have this piece of valuable information, how would he blackmail a man that could hire hitmen, hackers, and who knew what else! He'd be way to easy to pull in if a woman was involved! What the hell was he going to do with this!? There was no one to tell, no where to hide, keeping it all under wraps for the time being was the safest option. And a coward like itou wouldn't take another, his life came before any kind of goal to reach his father. This was a pretty shit vacation so far, to add, the adrenaline calming down only turned him visible when he was right outside his apartment... least his mom wasn't home, but he doubted the people gave free additional keys and kept naked boys running around their place secret. |
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| Queen Harmonia | Nov 8 2016, 07:54 PM Post #12 | ||||
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Queen Harmonia, First of Her Name, Ruler of the Realm
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Earnings:
Comments: I followed this whole mission on the old site before we moved, so I knew the rough storyline so that I could grade this continuation/ end. I didn't provide EXP for Chibi based on his banned status. I wish I could re-cap on the old stuff, but I'm banned from the other site, as I think most of staff are. Nevertheless, here are the dregs of EXP that should have been awarded from this portion of the mission. The previous thing should have been graded before we moved, and I can't provide compensation now, I'm afraid, if that wasn't the case. Nevertheless, interested to see where this all goes. |
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