Relapse

IC: (Kol) Following the explosion from the Madu fruit he'd dropped, the bandaged Onu-Koroan leapt from the crow's nest, grabbing a rope as he fell and gracefully swinging down. A pirate was fiercely focused on manning the disk launcher and taking out the Fowadi: he never saw him coming. Kol, saperka in hand, came from behind and sent him into the water. Spinning on his heel, he switched his saperka for his repeating crossbow and let loose a rapid-fire volley of bolts on the crew, hoping to take out everyone manning an artillery weapon.

IC: (J'Con) The two stalked the edge of the beach for nearly an hour before reaching Naho Bay. The Kaukau-shaped rock and beautiful falls always managed to inspire a bit of awe in J'Con, but today he had no time for sight-seeing. He immediately began treading rhe water of the bay, wading into the depths with little hesitation, even as he became knee-deep, waist-deep, completely submerged in the bay. He beckoned for Syvra to do the same, though the Toa of plantlife would likely not be as accustomed to the water as J'Con. For one thing, J'Con did not float to the top of the tide, his powers over gravity keeping him anchored to the ground. The further down they went, the more difficult it became to see the surface. Each of them were running low on oxygen, but just before they drowned, a rock outcropping became visible a few feet in front of them. J'Con raised his hands, and the rock rose, making visible a gap between the ground and the rpck that made up Naho Bay. For the moment, J'Con's elemental powers kept water from rushing in, but once the two were inside he released the rock and things returned to normal. Air was to be found abundantly in the hideout, and both Toa made use of it. Once the two had caught their breath, J'Con welcomed him. "Welcome to my humble abode. Make yourself at home." 'Cove' had possibly been an innacurate description. The underwater cavern was spacious, and J'Con had managed to furnish it. Every sense was hit as Syvra looked around. Lightstones illuminated the cave, making it almost as bright as a naturally-lit room. The sound of running water was as serene as it was distant. The cove was kept at a cool temperature by ventilation that also provived needed oxygen. The smell of plantlife brought attention to the aquatic garden where J'Con was growing food for himself. Essentially, one could sustain themself for a good while in the hidden cavern. "Time to get going, I suppose." OOC: Some pretty significant bunnying, but nothing serious. Feel free to return the favor, I suppose.

IC: (J'Con) "Let us go then." OOC: Dastardly duo to Ga-Koro~

Anyone know who the Daedra winners are? Looks like I've lost the contest for the third time. One day, y'all. One day.

IC: (Lhurai) This complicated things quite a bit. The Rora was dead. That was obvious. Almost out of habit my Soulsword began to form in my hand, but I willed it back into my thoughts. Not now. Now was not the time for action- the assassin as nowhere to be found. Now was the time for careful thought. My thoughts immediately went to Desdemona, and I briefly considered trying to comfort her, but I felt my heart being sucked into a whirlpool as I remembered her reaction to my speaking to her, and her obvious lack of interest. What had made me think she was going to want to talk to me? Even the guardswoman I had spoken with had displayed similar disdain. I wasn't the charming nobleman I had thought myself to be- I was a spoiled moron, akin to the Dashi living in the gutters when it came to relating to other people. I wasn't romantic, I wasn't elegant or beautiful, I was- I was nothing. With one last look at the party guests, who were all quite shaken by the assassination, I backed into the nearest corner and slumped against a wall, blinking off tears behind my ridiculous mask, fighting off the urge to bury my face into the folds of the "stylish" cloak that was more pointless than classy, and just placed my hands over my eyes, wishing now more than ever that I could choose to disappear.

IC: (J'Con) The Toa was quite aware that the opinions of him were low for the time being, but this didn't really upset him. Anyways it didn't look as though opinions on the moron he was stuck with were any higher. At least once he was out of his body he wouldn't have to speak with Syvra. "We should go."

IC: (Almanacia) Daylaria. The sound of it was bitter. No, not even bitter- empty. A false title. Like Daylaria was someone else entirely, a person separate from who she was now. And in truth, the strong, heroic soldier she had been was locked down as far deep as any other soul she could imprison. All that was left was a would-be magnificent creature in the cage of a beast. Though her eyes were shut, she instantly recognized the sound of his voice. Through gritted teeth, she let out a weak noise, the first sound she'd made in weeks: "Leave," she croaked, more of a beg than a demand.

IC: (Kol/Gavarm) Up above the heat of battle, Kol stood against the mast, one hand grasping a rope, his feet keeping him anchored to the post. He eyed the smaller vessel carefully, calculating his moves with extreme precision. Most Matoran would shy away from the prospect of swinging high over open water, but Uskey's resolve was iron, and he was prepared to do what was necessary. He glanced down, nodding to Gavarm, who had prepared the Ussalrymen under his command for boarding. As soon as one of the two frigates came in range, they began rapidly firing crossbow bolts at the nearest pirates, militant accuracy utilized to fire projectiles, hoping to land bolts between the eyes of each buccaneer. Gavarm himself had readied a boarding hook, and at his order the Ussalry did the same. An obstacle kept them from boarding just yet, however, as the pirates were likely prepared to take them out while they attempted to board, while they were defenseless. Luckily, the pirates were oblivious to the ace up their sleeve. High up, invisibly, Kol leveled his hat and swung across, landing on the opposite mast. He twisted a Stralix grenade, igniting it, and let it fall...

IC: (Rano) Visibly annoyed, Rano stubbornly began walking in the opposite direction. "Fine. But don't expect me to listen to you whine about this."

IC: (Rano) Interestingly enough, one of those very choices was just a ways outside the palace, talkibg with Jiyu. "I understand this is disappointing for you. But I also know that for as long as I've traveled with you, you haven't given up. So I know you're not going to now."

IC: (Rano) "You're still the First Son. Besides, you can't expect them to instantly accept you as a Toroshu. It's never been done before."

IC: (Shaman) There was nothing left for him to do. His mission had been thoroughly completed. And so, drained of energy and nearly out of bullets, he stumbled off into the forest, off to the nearest sewer or catacomb where he could hide until things died down. (Black Knight) The stoic warrior gazed quizically at the box addressed to him. It bore the seal of Lynae, and thus it was something of importance. For now, however, he would simply consider if his presence was genuinely desired at the gala or if the invitatio was a formality- he hadn't exactly formed deep relationships with thr Hellfire higher-ups. Curiously, the mask formed to his face- the face that was never seen by his comrades. Curious indeed, he thought to himself, placing the box on a shelf.

IC: (Rano) Rano deliberately stepped in front of him, looking him in the eye. "What happened?"

IC: (Rano) "Do tell," she said, somewhat worried.

IC: (Rano) Coincidentally, Rano saw Jiyu soon after she came ashore. The Eiyu Menti ran up to him, looking up to see his face. "...did you party too hard or something?"

IC: (Lhurai) I had resigned myself to enjoying the rest of a rather enjoyable event. This, however, quickly became an unrealistic hope, as I ran into a particularly well-dressed fellow guest (whose name I did not know was Nihi) and nearly trampled the poor girl. I guess my concentration was still effected for the worse after the scream. Either way, I had nearly just tackled a fellow guest. "My apologies!" I said quickly, "really should watch where I'm going."

What he did is essentially scream in everyone's ear at the top of his lungs. People are going to notice.

IC: (Lhurai) I dropped my glass. Shards of the crystalline object exploded across the floor at the same velocity which the psychoauditory scream had hit me. Glass was all over the ground. Worse, wine had spilled onto my cloak, reddish-purple stains dotting the euchre fabric. My head throbbed. I rubbed my temples, hoping to wish away the pain in my head. Whoever had done this, I decided, would pay, swiftly and severely. As I examined the nearby area, I realized that I was not the only one to feel this disturbance- many others were experiencing similar effects. I released a mental "scan" rather aggressively, a tweak of Ideatalk. I psychoanalyzed various sources until I located the epicenter of the blast. "You'll have to excuse me," I told Higashi, "I have business to attend to." With that, I started towards the source. This led my out of the ballroom, away from the party, which kind of made me want to let it go. And then I saw him. A broken man with a broken ego. I felt sorry for the big guy. With this thought, I threw my ruined cloak off and into the dirt, returning to the party. (Rano) Somewhere near this, the Eiyu Dasaka had finished her fishing trip, returning to the island of Sado, where the ball had continued. There was little to do on the island that most would consider fun. And so, dusting herself off, she was whisked away by the Sado marketplace.

IC; (Shaman) The silver-braided soldier was down, but not out. He felt as though he had run a marathon, what with the various teleportation stunts. His usage of magic, however, had been rather minimal, however, and he was still up to throw some punches. As he gathered the strength of will to rise from a kneeling position to a stand, he noticed that the group had all gotten into the last remaining humvee. He narrowed his eyes. This would've been a fantastic time to give up- he'd done his job, holding off the attackers while Red Skull prepared to evacuate. He, one man, had accomplished more than the tanks and hummers they'd sent out. By most standards, he could disappear into the forest and still be congratulated. But the hate that Perish Wesson had cultivated for SHIELD caused him to dig a bit deeper than that. He dug his heel in, each breath heaving his entire body as he conjured the strength to leap through the ethereal plane, flashstepping directly under the humvee. It was nearly impossible to notice him, and that's what he was counting on. Krystal's werewolf senses would likely pick up on him, but not in time. He planted a sticky bomb on the bottom of the truck, set it off to go in three seconds, and teleported the #### out of there.

IC: (Iiasmir) One-man applause was heard in the background as Aparangi approached. The applause was that of Iiasmir, who had turned to greet the newcomer. He began approaching the Toa, his posture non-threatening. "I would actually like to know the same thing," he shot at the Reveler, "you told me there would be a gladiatorial tournament of some sort, but why?" By now he was standing directly before Aparangi, stepping over the wounded Skakdi to offer a hand-shake. "I'm Iiasmir. I run a trading company in Ta-Koro. I followed some men who kidnapped an employee of one of my fellow business owners. I'm nearly as confused as you are."

Name: Joevrn Sex: Male Species: Toa Powers: The ability to manipulate ice. Skills: Impressive interrogation skills, overall a tough guy. Equipment: -A variety of small knives, including the MU equivalent of a Swiss Army Knife. -The Mask of Telekinesis. -A box of matches. Appearance: Well tailored, but tough-looking. He's tall, but not imposing, and built, but not overly muscular. His features are sharp, and if his face were to be compared to any animal, it would be an eagle. Rather than the traditional white of his element, he wears an assortment of dull greys and silvers. His eyes are an icy blue. Personality: Cold and indifferent to the enthusiasms of his fellow citizens. Does not play well with others. Sometimes depressed, usually disguises it with caustic behavior and offbeat sarcasm. Has the potential to be creative, but often squanders it. Can be manipulative under stress, not always conscious of it. Tends to distance others by taking things too far. History: Originally raised quite well, he tended to waist time and blow off steam with unhealthy habits. As he grew up, he made a living for himself hunting down people that other people didn't like and hurting them. For some reason, he never really felt bad about this. He didn't ever make friends, living in a run-down abandoned apartment building and eating basically the same thing for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. His life is basically Groundhog Day: the same thing over and over again.

I had originally submitted this as a ready-to-go game, but at the wonderful suggestion of GSR, I'm putting it up for criticism and other assorted thoughts. If no one's interested, no harm, no foul.

Back to the drawing board it is.

Was the rule broken? Or are you just looking for the wording?

smited