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Mel

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  • Birthday 07/28/1992

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Descending into Protodermis

Descending into Protodermis (127/293)

  1. a hobby of warriors was the profession of fools
  2. [Fort Garsi, Environs (Ipsudir/NPC)] Somak did well to understand this was not Sarke, but not well enough. War was more than learning to kill your enemies, it was learning to see them not as individuals, but as obstacles, and right now Sohmak one obstacle that the stone skakdi on their bike was not keen to run into. They couldn’t exactly swerve around with the force pulling them towards the wall, but they could do one thing. They could go faster. The skakdi gunned the throttle about two seconds before impact and leaned to the left, sending them at a slightly different angle to the wall, straight past Sohmak, straight towards the group that lay huddled behind it. There was no turning back now. The skakdi braced for impact, but they kept their eyes open. Sohmak opened his eyes to grit and dust and empty air. — Ipsudir was going to have to give Kirik a stern talking to, she thought. Probably with some fist thrown in. She had told him to corral the invaders, drive them into the waiting mouth of the trap that had been rehearsed many a time, but instead he had leaped at the first opportunity to prove himself worthy by fighting Zanakra. It was a pity she could not have raised Zanakra under her wing, as one of her own warriors. The welp had the ambition certainly, and the skill and toughness needed. No warlord, but a warrior certainly—one that would have to be taught a few lessons after she inevitably tried to take Ipsudir’s place. But that was not to be. Ipsudir was a thinker, not an intellectual. She had never dwelt on the intricacies of art or pondered the fabric of the universe. She knew the way the world worked; it was built of iron and blood, as it should should be. As one battlewife had found out at the cost of her eyes, Ipsudirs habit of strategy did not mean she could not fight. Ipsudir was a warlord, a warlord did not let subordinates do the thinking for her. That was asking for knife in the back, as she would know, having been the holder of the knife in times before. Zanakra could not lead by example, for her lackeys were Crieb:dii and fools, more enamored of their own unblemished skins than the battlefield. Ipsudir loved Sarke, but she understood what it was. It was a game, played with fist and blade instead of stones, and it was a hobby dear to her. But a hobby of warriors was the profession of fools. Ipsudir did not teach her warriors with Sarke. She did not teach them to fight. She taught them to kill, to kill and to kill, to turn your enemies into rahi before you on the glut of your slaughter. This was war, this was the glory under which Lamo-Lyco-Zakaz was won, Irnakk:Dii’s blood price. This was not Sarke. — The companions of the Tatorahk camp fought defensively, each according to their skill, as they had been taught. But no matter how much they shoveled out, the ship was sinking. This was not spineless bay, where the cover was plenty and the waters murky, easy to slip into and away from a fight. This was the badlands, and it did not like to spit out what it had already swallowed. Earth and stone mixed here, making the construction of a barrier made of only earth slow and laborious. Lugnoz, pulling herself upright, started to cough. He didn’t stop, the blood poured out of the wound in his throat and drowned his lungs and he kept coughing and coughing until there was no life left to cough out. The shot echoed around the canyon, but it followed the bullet, too late to change the outcome. In exposed cage on the hill, the old skakdi reloaded his najin rifle, and cocked it again with a smooth, practiced motion. Ythrok frantically grasped for power that was not there, the next grenade was not halted. She soon joined her partner on the ground, torso caved in and distended. — “CRIEB:DII! THIS LAND IS NOT FOR THE WEAK-SEEDED!” The skakdi of plasma who had originally crashed her bike had recovered, and managed to draw the attention of with her loud yelling and equally loud orange and pink armor. She was currently embroiled in a struggle with a large sundew plant, which was attempting to simultaneously drown and strangle her. But her hand was free, and that was all she needed. BANG! Her shotgun siphoned a small amount of her latent elemental power, coating the shell and almost melting it as it streaked through water, evaporating it, and blew off the shoulder of the skakdi of water who was half of her current predicament. As she fired, she charged her lazer vision, aiming straight for her opponents head. — This was not Sarke. Three skakdi were pulled to where Jojax waited on the wall—one grabbed the other’s wrist, turning the skid into a controlled glide as their powers of earth and stone worked upon the landscape around them. The tips of their short, basket-hilted lances gleamed as they advanced, the beginning of vision powers gleaming in their eyes. These were not the blunt weapons of Sarke—they were designed to kill, and kill fast, without the added trouble of having to strangle someone. The third party member did not go as smoothly down the slope, but despite an obviously sprained ankle and dented bone white armor, his mouth was open in a malicious grin, swinging a rotating chain sword in her direction. All the skakdi’s weapons were pulled by the wall too, but they let them move, drawing closer, all pointed at Jojax’s chest. She had been right, in a way. But she was the fish. — Two skakdi sprinted forward on their daggertooth mounts, one blue shot with silver, the other deep gunmetal and black. Fasil and Kerigor, they were called, and they had been hand picked by Ipsudir for their intelligence and ferocity, as well as the particular way their powers complimented each other. Fasil rode in front, her spinning razor-lined shield occasionally deflecting a beam from the attackers’ vision powers. Kerigor had weapons too, a well made najin shotgun that he been using to splatter the brains of any of zanakra’s coterie that got too close. He holstered it and put a hand on his spiked mace as if to draw it, but it was a ruse. As they charged toward the wall, Kerigor took a hold of Fasil’s elbow instead, and their powers ran together and bloomed. This was no frantic grab at anything that could give them an advantage—this was practiced, rehearsed. Electricity and magnetism (true magnetism, not a facsimile forged of gravity and iron) ran together, supporting and strengthening each other. A sphere of deadly force formed around the riders, flickering with ice-blue streaks of light. Fortunately for Jojax (and indeed, the people who were intent on impaling her), the iron wall was not designed to conduct electricity the way the fences had been. They felt only a diffused buzz as the remaining wall not submerged in dirt buckled and split, allowing the two riders to leap down into the clump of Zanakra’s forces, carrying their deadly aura with them. — “Krex, stay up on the wall with Srednak. You know what to do when I give the word.” Ipsudir headed downstairs. It was time to deal with this herself. OOC: Hoo boy, so I know this was a lot. I generally prefer to ask forgiveness rather than permission when it comes to combat. If the staff ask me to edit, I will, but otherwise I’m going to stick to my guns. @Snelly and @Visaru, you're on your own for now--have fun. @Smudge8 @Nato G @Sparticus147 @Zeal I know a lot is happening and the urge to post is great, but please let @Geardirector have a turn posting as Krex before responding to all this that is happening. I also have several things to point out as well. 1) @ARROW404 Think of it this way, you don’t have to come up with so many npc names now. :] 2) Ipsudir’s warriors are trained and experienced, they have taken apart fortresses before and have defended against attacks much more organized than this one. They are trained just not in strategy, but in tactics. They know how to react to changes in situation and have systematic ways of dealing with you. If your character try to blunder their way through danger with only pro-wrestling experience, they will not be saved by luck. They will just die. 3) Power joining has been a thing for a while. As a hope you saw, your enemies can do it too, and they practiced with it as well. 4) The forces of Fort Garsi have a home turf advantage—they know the terrain, which is quite different from what you are used to, and they have technology and powers suited to it. 5) Consider running away—after all, Zanakra is the only one who is really committed to this battle, and there’s more of you than her. :] Also, you might find allies in the strangest places. I think there’s a certain lady to the east with a very personal stake in seeing Ipsudir die, as @Palm can attest to. One even might say that running into each other, both broken and licking your wounds, would be a great story moment…
  3. [Ga-Koro, Outside The Great Takea (Ranok)] Ranok listened until Nichou’s footsteps faded, and then leaned the staff against the side of the building. He appreciated the offer, but if any killer plants came bursting out of the building he put a lot more faith in his utility knife. He resisted the urge to blow a few contemplative notes on his harmonica, listening for anything that might be moving aside from the footsteps of his companions. OOC: Everyone else is in the building so... @~Xemnas~ I guess?
  4. [Hanaloi, Forest (Falki)] There was little use getting fancy in battle if simplicity would do. Hambra, in her focus on Caana, had let Falki slip from her mind. They always do. Falki sheathed the damaged katar in one smooth motion and drew her kukri. The blade, a matte turquoise crystal, cast no light as she ran forward. She had fought enough sighteyes to estimate how much deeper she would need to cut at the ash bear’s exposed calves to reach true flesh. As she cut forward with her weapon, the kavinika surged forward, leaping to bite at limbs, ready to bring down this large prey like they had so many before. [Semeraed] Semeraed was straddling a thick branch like a wooden Soko, bow drawn and ready to shoot. But she couldn’t shoot Falki, despite the cold and unholy darkness that had taken hold of her beloved’s heart. As the mind reading rakshi skewered Riko, she knew with a surety that it must be her target—but she would only have one shot. Forcing herself to breath naturally, she turned her single sighted eye back and forth, judging the distance and preparing. [Hanaloi, Observatory Entrance(Fanai/Murasaki)] Fanai recognized the pressing feeling and the rush of water for what it was, an illusion. Still, it was a struggle against the feeling, even if she knew that the sighteye had no power to actually stop her breathing. Murasaki was panicking. Murasaki was not breathing. ::Breath.:: Murasaki’s consciousness was luckily used to small intrusion of Plangori-style willhammering, but Fanai couldn’t mislead a sighteye like she could another willhammer, only calm the frantic racing of Murasaki’s mind. Luckily, the sighteye had seemed to use all their energy on the auditory and tactile senses, and the Plangori warriors could still see enough to stumble away from the pursuing kavinika and their kraata riders, toward their allies. Fanai sensed something else, a familiar and yet twisted mind beyond the trees. ::An enemy illusionist above us:: The keen arrows of the scouts would be welcomed here. [Mari] Rakshi dwelt in shadows. They clung to them, found safety in their embrace. Despite their Zataka-given cunning, the shadows were a comfort that they could often not resist. Usually, this was a place where Menti feared to tread. Unfortunately for every rakshi that had faced Dastana Mari, this place of comfort held none of the safety they were used to. The menti’s eyes were almost completely closed now. She could picture every texture etched in stark relief, and the visual spectrum was more of a distraction at this point. The obscuring darkness of the cloud was simply non existent. The cloud evaporated, its conjurer pined to the ground by a mindarm-aimed dart. Mari spun her spear, slicing a kraata in two as it attempted to jump for her. The creature had been counting on surprising her—but it was instead the one on the end of a sharp surprise. She had no doubt the rahkshi would attack again once it realized the kraata’s trick had been ineffectual. [Rina] Crack! The other end of the pack was also having a bad time. The hated weapon of light and pain seemed to be everywhere, biting and slicing, forming shimmering arcs that bisected any who dared attempt to get close to its wielder. And the wielder herself was concealed from their eyes, seeming to bend the light and slip into a space where darkness could not reach. They could sense something there, a mask to infect, but it was too vague for them to do anything but jump in the vague direction what they detected, driven by the greater will that compelled them. Ironically, it was they who where in the dark. The more intelligent kraata held back, hoping that their mounts could get close enough. The brief window of darkness lent them the boldness to actively attack. Rina felt a slimy texture smack into her right shoulder, even as a Kavanika’s jaws closed inches from her left ankle. (She knew she had picked the Huna for a reason.). She didn’t have the time to bring her whip around, so she instead snatched the kraata with her left hand. It dissolved in her grip, frantically teleporting out of her hand, but Rina was ready this time. She whorled her whip in a circle in front of her own face, hearing the satisfying sizzle of psionic energy dissolving slug flesh. Then the light came back, along with a seizing pain in her muscles, spasms that made her stumble and… A familiar force pulled her back, out of range of the kavinika’s bite. A strong arm pulled her up. ::Don’t get greedy.:: Of the eight or so kavinika that had attacked the pair initially, only four remained, one missing its teleportation kraata rider courtesy of Rina, and one limping from a half-severed paw. The menti readied her weapon, paying particular attention to the blue and red creature that had given her the nasty shock. ::Oh, but we’re Dastana.:: OOC: @Keeper of Kraata @Goose I have darkvision blindsight an Arthron. :] @Nato G
  5. Welcome! Always nice to see new players. If you're looking for a place to come in with very little knowledge, may I suggest becoming one of the refugee fleet from Kentoku that just arrived on Mata-Nui? If you're playing a dashi (matoran) artisan, like @~Xemnas~ 's Eita, you probably weren't involved in any of the big events on Kentoku, and you'd be coming onto a completely new island that you know little about. You can't have a vahi tho, sorry lol
  6. [Ga-Koro, Industrial District] "I think I'll keep watch by the door, I think," said Ranok. "If things go wrong and we need more support, I have the most practiced lungs. Also, I can't fight." OOC: @~Xemnas~ @Harvali @Rahisaurus @Tarn @BULiK @Umbraline Yumiwa @Lady Takanuva @ARROW404
  7. [Fort Garsi, Environs (Ipsudir)] Ipsudir couldn’t see very well in clouds of smoke and dust that were shaking the battle field, but her warriors lower down in the fort informed her that the would-be-invaders were unloading with their full firepower on the area around Fort Garsi. Their approach was anything but tentative, as assaults on the fort usually were—some Heui:nii trying to sneak through the ocean of traps before opening the fortress from the inside. In a way, these whelps were doing better than usual. They were effecting things, setting off traps and blowing vast holes in the landscape. This was the joy of battle: making a mark on the world around you. Yet Ipsudir knew better than anyone that some marks took time to make. Time, and a plan. And Zanakra the Hammerblunt clearly had no plan. Ipsudir didn’t just have plans, no, she had contingencies. It looked like for once she wouldn’t have to use one just yet, however, for the Razorfish “warriors,” in their quest to set off every last trap, had succeeded too well. The hillsides around Fort Garsi (ah yes, hillsides) were honeycombed with traps, tunnels and trenches. Even a skakdi with x-ray vision or a lesterin with an akaku would have trouble parsing the shear amount of defenses. Some of them had been carved out of the bedrock itself, but most had been constructed of loose boulders and gravel. Add an incline just slight enough to not stand out but just steep enough to have momentum, and you had the recipe for a multi-stage trap. For the overcautious, there were plenty of traps and hidden sensors, and for the trigger-happy well…the hill wasn’t just filled with traps. The hill was a trap. And the little welps were ever so enthusiastic. Gravity, prematurely exploded grenades, wide shots, vision powers, Zanakra’s hammer…there was just so much force working on the hillsides. Something had to give. Only the sonic skakdi were able to catch the minute rumble underlaying the roaring sounds of battle. The rest of the warband had precious less time to throw themselves behind T’harrak’s wall, which couldn’t have been constructed too soon. With a groan growing to a roar, the landscape in front of them shifted. A few of the skakdi throwing vision powers at the ramparts couldn’t move far enough before they were buried under several tons of gravel, bolders, barbed wire, and energy hounds, some of them somehow still living. The wall shook with the weight of the debris that hit it, but remained firm for the time being. The skakdi in the iron cage who had released the hounds hand been exposed by the mass of debris sliding off the hill. He gave his nakihl rifle one final polish before cocking it and fixing the bayonet. He knew he probably wasn’t going to survive this one, but he’d give these Heau:ni something to remember. He’s served the Garsis for hundreds of years, and the blood he spilled would be a passage to the hall of his ancestors. — Back inside the fort, Ipsudir turned on her radio, which luckily hadn’t been effected by the crystal shattering that had taken part below. “Kirik, would you ever so kindly get the cycle going? I think our guests are looking a little sleepy. Perhaps they need a little jolt to wake them up.” OOC: Be careful with fireworks, fellow people. @Nato G @Zeal@ARROW404 @Snelly @Smudge8 @Sparticus147 Oh and @Visaru ? Fire up the hog...😈
  8. [Ga-Koro, Outside The Great Takea (Ranok)] “So,” said Ranok. “Perhaps I should lead you to where you can get some miracle cactus. There should be someone out there that would have caught sight of this particularly enterprising lesterin.” — [Ga-Koro, Outer Docks] About a half-an-hour later, the group of assorted beings was standing in a darker area of the docks while Ranok tucked some mushrooms from an Onu-matoran whose eyes kept on shifting to Timak and Kimala as if to gage how likely they were to immediately report them to the marines. Ranok sighed as he turned to Kanohi and Eita. “I’m afraid they’re out as of a few days ago. Looks like our plant-loving friend was buying up a lot of stock, and their suppliers got suspicious that something else was going on. We do have a location though,” he said, taking out an obviously well-loved map of Ga-koro and tapping a location near to were they were currently. “This used to be an abandoned warehouse until he set up shop there. I think most people here want him gone as much as you do.” OOC: @Harvali @Snelly @ARROW404 @~Xemnas~ @Lady Takanuva @Tarn @BULiK @Rahisaurus phew, all here. use the buddy system. [Ga-koro, South Docks, close to Sunset (Talli)] Talli was about to attempt a half-hearted laugh until she noticed the woman wasn’t joking. Wow, so these people really did need help. “Here.” She thrust out her mariners record so that the Po-lesterin could catch the important-looking seals on the surface. If she cared to read it, she would find a record of about five ships, as well as guard work in the outer districts near the docks. “Also uh, I’ve been on fishing boats pretty much since I could speak in full sentences. Maybe before, don’t remember that era of my life too well. I hope that’s sufficient.” OOC: @sunflower is water wet etc.
  9. [Hanaloi, Forest (Semraed and Falki)] There is a misconception many new fighters have about rage. The idea is that if you make someone angry, they will be stupid, take risks, make mistakes. This is only half true. Rage dulls the higher reasonings, leads to split-second decisions that have no regard for the future. In a fight of life or death, however, these are the only decisions that matter. Thus was Falki’s mind clouded by rage. She did not consider the closing kavanika, the window of escape that was rapidly disappearing. All she was focused on was fighting Caana, and yet her rage did not make her any worse at this. Caana was fighting opponent smaller than her, already inside her range. In any other situation, a polarm would have been a superior weapon, but in this one it was not. Whatever the speed of thought, jumping was always a risk. Gravity kept her own time, and in order to get enough height to go over Falki’s head, Caana telegraphed her jump far in advance. Falki did not look up—that would be asking for a staff through the forehead. She waited to move until the very last second, stepping a fraction to the left, just as Caana’s staff came down, the wind of it caressing her shoulder as all the momentum of Caana’s strike embedded the blade in the ground. Falki had already stepped back, as her right blade whirled around to bite into the armor just below Caana’s knee. It chipped as it collided with the scale mail, but the broken edge still carried enough force to cause a bruise that would bother Caana for weeks. Then one of the kavanika leaped forward, its open maw straight at her, and Falki had to step forward to meet it, her blade loosing purchase before she could attempt to strike again. She drove the blade in her opposite hand up into its jaws, straight through the roof of its mouth and into its brain. But Falki’s rage had already led her astray, not to death at Caana’s blade, but to the kraata that leaped from the dead rahi onto her mask. She tried to slash at it, across her own face, but its body shifted and flattened. The blade met empty air, and then fell to her side as the hand holding it went limp. The cold darkness that drove into Falki felt none of the surety of belief that had been present in Vazaria. Nor was there any purchase in her rage—it was too unselfish, too wrapped up in her love. There was something beneath it though, a festering desire that it lighted upon: the sadness in Caana’s eyes, the laughter in Imperial mentis’. No matter how much her clan gave her, she would never be respected. She would always be seen as a mere girl, a saihoko playing at a menti’s job. They will respect you, said the cold infinity. And then they will die. Falki had never heard the stories that Hatchi had, never been warned of the poison that lurked at the top of Mount Koshiki and in the depths of all living hearts. She felt only the cold certainty of power, power that had been hidden from her. No longer. — Semeraed’s shot went into the already dead Kavinika as the kraata twisted impossibly out of the way. She had another arrow knocked, but she couldn’t shoot the creature without hitting Falki. She tilted her head from side to side, trying to judge distance with her one good eye (her one good eye skies and seas she was never going to see with two eyes again) ready to shoot just as soon as it detached. But when she saw Falki’s face again, a cold dread stilled her hand. Falki’s eyes had always been a warm orange, the color of glowing coals around a beach firepit, but now they were blood red, hard as a ruby blade, and with a cold and unholy darkness behind them. In the fleeing moonlight her noble miru appeared to be streaked with strangely symmetrical lines of rust, like warpaint or dried tears. Falki looked up at Hambra and sneered. The kavanika flowed around her. She was part of their pack now. “So eager to die for Imperials. Let me help.” OOC: @Goose @Keeper of Kraata Well, quite a situation we have here. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a profile to write--after all, Makuta deserves his murder-hobbits too. : )
  10. [Hanaloi, Observatory Entrance(Fanai)] The gravity-wielding rakshi temporary dealt with, Fanai shifted her Perception to a wilder field, pinpointing the poison consciousnesses of the kraata in the trees. She brushed against the influence of the mind-reading creature, but retreated for now. Her own ability to remain concealed on the mental plane seemed to be working in her favor—the kavanika seemed totally focused on Murasaki, allowing her to fell one with a well-placed jab of her staff into its neck. [Murasaki] Murasaki saw the opening that Fanai had created and went for it. Calling upon the power of her mask, she leapt into the air, springing off the dead Kavanika’s head and landing shoulder to shoulder with Fanai. The two Plangori warriors stood back to back, weapons up as they moved toward their allies. Surrounded as they were, Murasaki’s machete wouldn’t be effective for much more than killing kraata, and the kavanika were now very aware of Fanai. [Mari] Mari had trained her body hard, learning the physical fitness that supported the power of her discipline, but she had never relied on just her hands. She let go of the staff as soon as she felt it being pulled out of them. Calling upon her mindarm, she added her will to the momentum driving the creature backward in one sharp push. The staff, already stuck in rakshi, drove it back and threw it off balance. As the rakshi recovered, it bought Mari a precious second to deal with the kavinika. Using the full power of her mindarm, she threw the darts out in a spray. Two of the bou shuriken found their mark in the eyes of the hounds, while others struck less vital but equally painful places. A normal rahi would have been sent yelping away, but these hounds were driven something else. Mari didn’t wait to ponder the effectiveness of her method. Her second staff was already in her hands, positioned so one end pointed to the rakshi and the other to the group of kavika. She backed away towards her clanswoman, eyes darting between the enemies on either side of her. [Rina] Rina’s soulwhip had its disadvantages when facing a single, powerful opponent. For one, she had to hold back, for fear of the flexible, wide arcing weapon injuring one of her allies. She had no such disadvantages when faced with a horde of ravening beasts. With a thought, the end of her whip became razor sharp, cutting through the air. The kraata riding one of the infected creatures died before it had even time to comprehend it, cut in half as the entire upper jaw of its steed slid off with it. Another snap and one of the kavanika fell forward, its left front leg severed. The invisible figure cut a whirlwind of light and gore as she moved to protect Mari. “Bad doggy.” OCC: @Keeper of Kraata oops, got a little too enthusiastic there. I've edited the post, and ran it through the mods first to ensure it's up to snuff re-how mindarm matches up to the physical capabilities of the rahkshi @Goose I’m going to be working on a post for Falki and Semeraed, but it needs GM approval for some things I will be describing. Thank you for your patience as always. (Also--hello @Nato G! I feel we might be better acquainted soon.)
  11. [Fort Garsi, Outer Wall] The remaining cordak rockets hit the walls of the fort, sending minute cracks through the outside, but the rebar that formed the base of the walls held them firm. Ipsudir switched radio channels. So the welp had some bite to her after all. She would have to test that. “Looks like our guests are getting a little too comfortable. Why don’t you send them a bit of a welcoming party?” In one of the many tunnels leading from Fort Garsi to the land below, a gate slid open. The skakdi who had remotely triggered it from his own iron cage held his breath as the skeletal forms swarmed out of their holding cell. The energy hounds were barely tame and kept hungry, so it often was a coin toss whether they would attack their handlers along with any invaders. Luckily, the lead creature had picked up the scent of easier prey. — As T’harrak shouted her plan, she was suddenly interrupted by the baying of creatures on the hunt. Krex was about to have her cover. OOC: @Geardirector @Nato G @Snelly @Smudge8 @ARROW404 @Zeal @Visaru Always wanted to do that.
  12. [Ga-koro, South Docks, close to Sunset] She was half-surprised that her counselor had been enthusiastic about the proposal. The other matoran had written a considerable note to be included with her application, detailing her history and “needs.” It made her feel like a child again, or one of the plants her mother tended so carefully during her long days at work. Still, it would be good to get out, providing they accepted her. Talli couldn’t imagine they would have a reason not to, head problems aside. She was Ga-koronan born and bred, as comfortable on a boat as on land (more comfortable, in fact.) She’d had experience on vessels both civilian and military, and living in a poor family had given her the patience and skill to dress up even the most pungent and bony of fish stews. She even had relevant experience as a ship’s cook, though that had ended badly. Still, it wasn’t like her cooking had sunk The Invincible. Really, that name had just been tempting fate. The Fowadi did seem to loom significantly more the closer she got however. She wondered how something so solid could float at all—would she even be able to feel the rocking of the boat beneath her? Well, only one way to find out. She approached the obvious Po-koronan. “Talli Anach. I’m here to apply for a position on The Fowadi.” OOC: @sunflower ahoy
  13. [The Warrens (Ipsudir)] “Excellent,” Ipsudir replied. “I am ever so curious as to where that old gentleman came from, and what may be his reasons for kicking that little arena back to life.” Ipsudir had always thought The Place’s forbiddance on violence to be a might ironic. Skakdi had bled there, had died there, all for the amusement of the Lesteri:nii. Surely the mock combats were more of dishonor to their name than a true war, the same kind of war that had freed them from their chains with Irnakk’s blood price. “Do name you price first, when you find something,” she continued. “And we’ll see what we can do.” Ipsudir was going to make Vrinak remember that she was not her father. She payed her debts, in iron or in blood, and some day Vrinak would have to become more familiar with that second kind of currency. Not today, but someday. [Fort Garsi, Some Time Later] Ipsudir lounged next to one of the openings of the fort which housed an opening, just the right size for a telescope. Or a rifle. She’d heard of the upstart warlord who went by the name Zanakra. By all accounts, she was a capable fighter herself—though her choice in lackeys left much to be desired. She had definitely decided to go for quantity over quality. Gossip spoke of a heard of followers consisting mainly of outcasts and Sarke wrestlers who had never tasted blood. Still, if there were enough of them that could be a problem, but it looked like the young warlord had left enough of her force back to defend her freshly built fort from the hoards of spineless marauders that squabbled over the bay. This would be fun. Ipsudir picked up her radio and messaged Krex, who was surveying her newest rig of traps from the top of the walls. “Looks like we’ve got a little situation here. What are our options?” — Nearby to the approaching hoard, a hidden speaker suddenly activated with a crack of static. The voice that issued from it was pleasant, drawling, but with an unmistakable undertone of menace. “Well, I do declare, is this a visit from the neighbors? And with a housewarming gift. So polite. I am rather occupied at the moment, however—would you mind leaving it on the front steps?” OOC: @Ghosthands feel free to end the meeting how you see fit. @Geardirector, let me know if you have any ideas. @Visaru sit tight for now, you might have to clean up later. As for @Snelly@Nato G @Sparticus147 @Smudge8 and @Zeal ... So, you want to kill Ipsudir? Great, so do I. She was never meant to be any more than a one-arc character, and if she is not dead by the end of this year I will be very disappointed, personally. However, I do have a reputation to uphold—she didn’t get where she is by not being one of the most cunning and ruthless people alive, even by Zakaz standards. So I will be going all out—attempting to maim and kill as many people as possible on the way down, and that includes PCs. If you commit, you might just be rewarded, but anything half-measure isn’t going to do it. That said, may the best Girlboss win. :]
  14. [Ga-Koro, Outside The Great Takea (Ranok)] Ranok tried to get a read on Kanohi as the masked vigilante shifted his attention elsewhere, seeming to grow ever more distressed. This need to find a particularly nasty lesterin seemed to verge on an obsession—though he supposed that came with the territory. Unfortunately. He hoped he could talk more with the other matoran at some point. “Well,” he said, his singer’s voice projecting over the crowd, though not too loud. “I am definitely aware of where one can pick up some miracle cactus. Usually I’d advise splitting up, but with the guards occupied with the new fleet I think we should be alright as long as we keep our heads down.” OOC: @Harvali @~Xemnas~ @ARROW404 @Snelly @BULiK @Umbraline Yumiwa @Lady Takanuva @Tarn
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