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Post by ShyDivinity on Dec 6, 2008 16:09:32 GMT 8
The Vampire stood in a quick pace, the patrons at the bar could tell that something was amuck, and not with the Vampire, but with the Shape Shifting Stone Troll that was suddenly grasping a Paladin's throat and beginning to squeeze. Within moments, the Vampire turned and grasped a bottle of Vodka, snapping off the top with his fingers and thrust it into the air towards the Stone Troll. Seconds passed as the bottle shattered in mid-air, the flames blowing outward and onto the Troll as it screamed in pain from, not the heat of the flames, but the essence that it resembled. Seconds felt like an eternity as the Vampire quickly, and suddenly to everyone else, turned into a blur to them, rushing towards the troll with extreme momentum and thrusting it towards the dark double doors of the establishment. Seconds passed as he quickly turned and belted it with a strong side-kick, or as his Feline Anthro Companion would mention, "Nice Flying Noodle Kick, Val," Omeno stated with a smile. The Troll growled in pain, flying backwards towards the double doors. Val smiled and turned to his friend, "He's all yours,"
The Pure White Furred Anthro Feline sighed and rested the glass of Red wine, reaching down to his fur jacket he had placed over the back of his stool and pulling out a large Whip. It seemed to be constructed by odd material, but never the less, it looked deadly. Snapping it harshly, he crouched down, noticing the Troll growl and knock a few patrons over. Even the Barbarians and Druids were afraid to deal with it. What Necromancers in the joint didn't bother trying to get involved - everyone knew this was their fight. The snap cracked out, the beam of bright light flashing towards the Stone Troll as it quickly rolled out of the way, smashing tables and pushing guests. "Mein Dearest Enemy," he muttered, "Ich believe dis your time to depart, Nein?" he snickered, snapping the whip once more as it wrapped around the monsters waist and within seconds of a pull, the Troll yelled into silence - the stone texture bursting into Eternal Hell Flame and slowly sizzling into flakes of dust.
Sighing, the Feline straightened his back and slipping the whip back into the jacket, that strangely, didn't look big enough to even hold such a thing. He looked around and noticed the kudos of the patrons, "Aye, Aye, Buy me a Bottle and I'll share it!" he snickered, leaning against the bar counter as he reached for the red wine. His attention turned to his companion, the Vampire, Val, as he wondered to notice that Val was glaring at the new patron who just walked in... "Something about that thing doesn't smell right," Val said as he sniffed the air once more, the teeth slipping back into his mouth as he rose a brow and sipped the blood from his glass, eying the new comer. "I'm telling ya, Omeno... That fits the description." he grinned. Omeno sighed and raised the red wine to his lips, eyeing the new comer as well, wondering..... .... Was the new comer the actual individual that could fulfill the prophecy? .... Was this pint-sized strength and will power the actual individual that was going to shake the very foundation of the Eight Realms?
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Post by Ninette De La Magnifique on Dec 6, 2008 16:11:08 GMT 8
The entity known to few as Ninette, La Magnifique, Jesterette of the Dark Carnivale, entered the establishment just as the dust begins to settle upon the worn surface of the tavern’s floor. Perfectly powdered nose would crinkle in disgust at the pungent smell of burnt flesh. A porcelain white hand would rise to brush an imaginary fleck of dust upon the immaculate velvet covering part of her full bosom. Heaving a shallow breath, she proceeded forth into the heart of the bustling room; a slight shiver running along her spine at the feel of warmth enveloping her petite form.
Further inwards she would venture; leather covered foot would fall before the other. Gentle sway of hips moving left and right; avoiding tables and chairs and the many wandering hands of rowdy men, brandishing pints of cheap ale. Though none would dare touch or even came close to the lacy velvet surrounding petite form. Their hands would stop in mid air as if having a mind of their own. It was as if some kind of barrier was present around the young woman. Something dark and unforgiving. They would then turn away, shuddering with unknown fear only to glance and whisper. The hushed sound would travel around them thereafter; filling the crowded tavern with unspoken fear and awe. There was certainly something unsettling about this one, they would say.
An emotionless smile then came to rest upon the painted lips of the stranger. None was known about her in these parts. And that’s exactly what she was relying on. Anonymity was the key to the success of her quest. The time for recognition and glory shall come in due course. The smile would bloom further as she slips into the gloom of a shadowed corner. Eyes would peer into the darkness, whispers of unknown syllables would echo within the mind of the weakened. Soon drunkards and sultry wenches poured out of the gloom and into the light as if spooked by an unknown evil. A chuckle would resonate, though hardly audible to the many gathered.
Placing pale digits upon the cold surface of the table before her, she inhaled slowly, eyes closing to entertain a dark vision of them all maimed and torn apart at every muscle joints by the children of the Abysmal. ‘Soon, precious. Soon’. The silent words would echo within mind of the lone jesterette. For now she must wait for the emissary of the Abyss to join her with a message from the Dark Lord himself.
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Post by ShyDivinity on Dec 6, 2008 16:11:14 GMT 8
Omeno paused for the moment, wondering if the undead friend knew anything about the creature. "Succubus?" the feline paused, sniffing the air once more, "Dats La Magnifique," he mentioned softly, "Mein Got, why would she involved with this Prophecy?" he asked cautiously, looking at Val only to notice he had been almost in a daze of watching her. To the Vampire, Val simply came to the self realization that things, he gathered, were more dangerous than they seemed.
The leather covered feet followed one by one, the sway alone made him feel the lust that built up inside of him. Sniffing the air, he rose the blood to his lips once more, eying her with soft caution, and when he felt the time of being noticed came closer, he gently turned away and glared at the bottled across the counter. He couldn't fathom what a creature of her origin had been doing in the establishment. Though, he may have been a son of the damned, he still had his morals and a heart of gold that helped prove his worth; this creature, what ever it may have been, was clearly of pure void and essence of darkness. "The Archangel was right," he noted, looking down at the Feline who had already begun to drool from the amazement of beauty of the woman. "If you're so interested in her, why don't you go talk with her," he snickered and watched the anthro simply twitch in amazement. "...Omeno?" he waved his hand in front of the cat eyes, but it had been the double snap of his fingers that brought the creature out of the trans, "... You there?"
Slowly the creature looked up and paused, "`Em gonna go say Hallo," he purred, ignoring any other warning signs as he graced towards the creature at her cold surfaced table. The eyes gleamed with a flash of Hell fire as he wondered, standing before her, watching her clearly, "Hallo, Mein Lady," he paused, ears twitching as Chiasm began to echo through the establishment. The Gothic lyrics of 'Isolated' began to play and, without her permission, sat down across from her as he wondered if she could sense anything from him. Could she tell he was cursed from the very Dark Lord, Satan, himself? Could she feel what darkness lurked in him, and what angelic strength within his heart kept fighting against it? He swallowed the wine and rose a brow, "Vat brings you to dis establishment, Mein Lady?" he asked softly, "Adventure, or Work?"
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Post by Ninette De La Magnifique on Dec 6, 2008 16:11:43 GMT 8
Ninette, the jesterette of doom, shifted restlessly upon the worn surface of the wooden stool; trained ears twitching, listening tentatively to the sounds around her. Profanities mingled with loud jeering, accompanying sultry laughter and lustful coaxing. And there were auras. Living souls emitting warmth and some were sizzling. She could feel their searing heat from where she sat within the shadows. Ethereal fingers reaching out; coming close to touch her dark ones. Invisible, luminous auras yet tainted and incongruent. Innocent yet corrupted. Overall, deliciously vulnerable.
Where is that poisonous snake? Mind would chide none as eyelashes fluttered upwards to reveal pools of cerulean hues. Their dark depth was unfathomable as they carefully scanned her immediate surroundings, knowing that she would not find the emissary anywhere within the vicinity, for she had not sensed his black auras earlier. Try scouring? A smirk would gather upon painted lips as once again the voice of her unconscious mind would echo within the recesses of her soulless vessel; teasing her for her lack of effort. She shook her head, chuckling quietly. She was in no hurry to meet with the messenger of the underworld. The destruction can wait.
Gaze continued to travel, ignoring the quiet buzz of wary echoing within her mind. Time seemed to stop just as her eyes came to rest upon the back of a man seated before the bar in the middle of the shadowed room. Orbs widening momentarily before receding to slits as she peer against the darkness. Not that it was necessary. She could see the swirling dark auras surrounding him, enveloping him like a sentient cocoon. Yet. Yet there was a luminescent light from somewhere within. How strange. Her mind would whisper. Then came the chirpy voice; intruding into her reverie of thoughts. Mesmerizing orbs was robbed of its subject of scrutiny, coming to settle upon the visage of a furry humanoid; noting the smile and the determination shining in his eyes. Those eyes; windows to the soul, they say. Yet this one was almost as tainted as the jesterette’s. It was as if they were alike in a way not known to the succubus. Could she be more surprised than she already was?
‘Neither’. Came her soft answer; the frown turning into a smile upon porcelain features. ‘I am here to quench a thirst’. And from the shadows an alabaster arm would raise a fragile glass filled with blood red liquid to her lips. Placing the glass upon the table moments later, she regarded the stranger. “What brings you here?”
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