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Post by "Unfettered" on Dec 13, 2009 13:13:01 GMT -8
How We Reflect Our Lives There would be a note in Mr. Seran's locker, slipped in, ecased in a plain, white envelope. Inside would be a neatly folded letter, all presented nicely. The message was simple:* * * * * * That Morning * * * * * * "YOU FUCKER, ARE YOU INSANE!?"The German ignored him as he finished up the letter, reaching over to put it in his backpack. Tai was standing vehemently, glaring at his "boss" in the boss' room. There was no question that "Unfettered" had been changing slightly with every passing day. The rape. The departure. The broken knee.
And yet... no phobias were strong enough to make them present to anyone else---unless they were highly repressed.
In response, the German shot a plain, nonchalant glance at Tai."No. I am quite sane Zis is the sanest move I've made since coming.""CHALLENGING THAT MONSTER!? BY YOURSELF IS SANE!?"The German, paused, then smiled, taking out the letter again."Obviously, not by mein self. I am far rustier then I had hoped, but... this is what it must be. Zis must be done.""Why!?"Laughter.
Grinning.
Looking away.
All the while, the German just stood up, slinging the backpack onto himself, looking up in the sky."...Because..."* * * * * * * * * * * * * There stood the German, atop the lonely roof, wind blasting in a cold manner---Many rains had stripped the air of its warmth these past few days. This was good, though. California's erratic rainy season would be necessary for what the German needed to do---but it needed to last.
Blue jeans. Chocorem's belt and goggles. The Gods' coat, boots, gloves, chest plate and other things. Sol's baton. Valekin's hammer. That scarf...
..."Unfettered's" "Ambition" weighed him down so terribly, especially with the crutch in his left hand that kept him aloft, but he was kept afloat by these memories he wore on himself."Because..."Raising up the sword up to eye-level horizontally, looking at the door, waiting for the man to come. Talking to himself."...Because zis ist my 'Ambition' and no one else's..." |
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Post by Gabriel Seran on Dec 13, 2009 13:22:56 GMT -8
Gabriel Seran was more or less out of school for the time being but that didn't mean he didn't drop by every once in a while to check in on the recent news, yes he kept his tabs here and there wanting to always know what the current scenario was or fearful dictator was now rising up but it'd seemed as though Matrim's Captain spot left no one wanting to fight for it. It was both good and bad, good in the sense that violence would become belittled but bad in the sense that you'd be breeding others to create havoc, and could the Captain handle that himself.
A small laugh. Gabriel doubted it.
Pulling free his locker's door he seized a letter inside reading it's contents. A sudden chill forming at the base of his spine.
Winter's was here, and he was here to meet with him. Gabriel suddenly had a burst of emotive thought, was this to be concerning Militia, or was this something else. For his sake he optimistically hoped Militia was on the rebound for it was the sole thing that he'd held a certain interest in these days.
Striding to the roof Gabriel took his time, perhaps it was that sudden chilly feeling that kept his motions slow and uncouth. Uncertainty gripping him as he meddled with the doorknob. His old leader come back again for something new. Of course that was something Gabriel would perhaps never be too sure of, caution struck him once past the door looking the man on headlong.
"Been a long time hasn't it Jon?" Gabriel said keeping it a mix of informal speech and pleasantries, unsure of the Nazi's motives for this meeting after so long Gabriel could only act as though he'd once had. Though many things had changed.
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Post by "Unfettered" on Dec 13, 2009 15:35:58 GMT -8
As Free To Do As The Word Itself Those steps. Of course it was him."Been a long time hasn't it Jon?" "...Ja," the German grunted, looking at Mr. Seran with a curious, ominious smile. "Vy do you zink zat ist?"Cocky or not, the smile soon began to fade away...
With a heft and a few drops of sweat, the German lifted up his crutch and threw it to the side, the din of its clattering loud and echoing. Baring his teeth, he bit his lower left lip as he used his free hand to reach into his coat for a container of pain killers while simultaneously lowering down "Ambition," before suddenly sheathing it onto his belt. Using his freed up hand, he abruptly tore off the top before pouring a rough handful into his hand and taking it to his mouth, swallowing it. More beads of sweat were forming at his brow as the German in pain, but standing firm without quaking."I requested you here for several reasons," he spoke in all seriousness."One: The formal dissolution of Militia," holding up his right hand to shoot out one finger."Two: Your recogintion, as Gabriel Seran, of your current status, of my formation of 'Remnants'," went the second finger."Three: To convince you to recognize and join the 'Militia Pact,' which I shall detail soon," was his third finger."Four: To convince you train me with any resources you deem are necessary for the next month or three," was his sudden, curious fourth.
Smiling now."Five: To give you the opportunity to convince me to either fold to you, pledge loyalty, or to become your protectorate."(OOC: Protectorate meaning, in this context, "Unfettered" following Gabriel, either as a member, or as the leader of his own gang.)The German stood resolute, thinking nothing of what may be perceived to be arrogant bravado on his part. Smiling."Where shall we begin?" |
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Post by Gabriel Seran on Dec 13, 2009 16:13:43 GMT -8
Gabriel's composure kept calm as his old leader spoke his piece first of their departure and the time they'd spent apart under different sceneries. Of course it'd been awhile, Gabriel at Moral Crest while "Unfettered" remained here, though the expansive time while Gabriel returned there had still been no contact only from what Gabriel had assumed as the man keeping close tabs on his endorsements. It was a curious thought nonetheless one to which Gabriel didn't answer his thoughts merely observed as the man dealt with his various amounts of pain medication.
That in itself was difficult to stomach, remembering all the while seeing the man suffer in silence now overtly showed his shortcomings, though still Gabriel kept his cold guard up, he knew from the brief things he saw Johnathan Winters was not only fierce in battle but in the planning room as well. It was what Gabriel himself aspired to become even to this day.
The subtle approach of his feet bantering against the floor to get closer, not much but enough so that they weren't so cold to one another the prospects he was speaking held a wary interest in mind.
The dissolution of the Militia was something that hadn't shocked him seeing it's old parts crumble under the tears and seams at Moral Crest, but to have "Unfettered" issue something so boldly brought it's own sentiments.
As far as his alliance to the Remnants he viewed his own mental checklist of whom "Unfettered's" new and old connections were; Emily, David, and Victor it would seem. All of which he held his own tight knit ties with or at the very least a foothold to their powers so in the long run his ambitions for joining these Remnants was unfounded other than for the purpose of obligating his old allegiance towards "Unfettered" to which despite his recent increase in power still respected and in much a way feared.
His Militia Pact would have to be seen, but knowing "Unfettered" even for a brief period of time would appeal to each person's interests to some extent, something Gabriel could perchance oblige to in the future, or even tear apart and take full control of should the time come.
"We shall see how your Pact plays out, theres still much I don't know since your revival it seems..."
It left him weary and unsure of how to approach. But patience was the ultimate card in this game and surely he was learning from old examples. No mistake would be made this time unless he planned to use this as a gambit. Training now left him with a certain pleasure, and with all people "Unfettered" it was above all things an honor in his mind, up there with Leon himself. Something Gabriel could not turn down.
"Five: To give you the opportunity to convince me to either fold to you, pledge loyalty, or to become your protectorate."
Gabriel nodded a sheer excitement flowing through him uncertain as to how he should approach this means. To fight firsthand or to convince him, the ever consisting conflict in his mind playing games with his conscious.
"By all means I will try my best..." Gabriel nodded, "en guard.."
Gabriel said not doubting himself this time picking the least predictable movement in his arsenal. To talk was his first and bluntly strike his second, this was more tactical and expected Jon to react in equal measures.
A dash of his own blade drawn crimson from his belt brought from his lower left into a diagonal slash up towards "Unfettered's" upper left shoulder. By now he was sure to see some of the man's changes or by chance for the first time what he was actually capable of.
OOC:
Strength: 70
Dexterity: 85
Constitution: 166
Intelligence: 61
Wisdom: 90
Charisma: 25
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Post by David B. on Dec 13, 2009 17:29:00 GMT -8
His hood pulled up over his head, leaning back against the roof totally oppositide the courtyard of the two fighters. Yet, still, he heard every word. The blindfold blotted out the sun, left him in utter darkness. It had been this way for weeks, and David saw no need to change it. Keep the blindfold, make people think he lost his sight, and use this advantage in battle- learn to fight no matter the circumstance. Here he sat, listening and waiting. Why? Because for one, here he couldn't be seen by either of them. Two, he could learn things. Three- he was always in the right place at the right time it seemed. He licked his lips. Unfettered. This should be interesting. 'We should be getting in on this...'
'Quiet.'
'Whatever...'OOC((Skip me all you like, just a "spectator"  )) |
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Post by seishounohana on Dec 13, 2009 18:03:46 GMT -8
... and right beside David was Emily, who after all this time finally had gotten a hold of her emotions. Though the means were quite sad as in reflecting the state of her own Emotional Quotient; it still did the trick.
The White-haired girl watched with interest as she listened to the conversation from up here. Unlike David though, who listened to the conversation below using god-knows-what, Emily had "Sophia" and Stephanie sneak amongst the crowd and transmit the voices from there to a little earphone on Emily's left ear.
...
This was getting a little interesting; maybe enough to quell the little sadness that slightly welled in Emily's heart due to the the loss of Militia. Part of her wondered if this was her fault, but there was no holding back this time; there was Regalia to deal with, and for as long as she could, she would do whatever it took to keep it alive.
...
Though, with all this, Emily wondered about her Sceptre, and how true his oath was that day - if to choose between two masters, old and new: which one would he be inclined to follow?
Though, Emily could admit, not a lot of things have changed for her in a sense that it was only her mind that wanted to stay away. That guilty conscience that she harbored and nurtured in some sick manner...
...
Her eyes were plastered onto the fight; face unable to show any particular emotion except the soft, stoic grin that was plastered onto her face ever since---
Yeah.
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Post by "Unfettered" on Dec 14, 2009 17:34:56 GMT -8
OOC: Whatever you choose not to RP, I shall take advantage of in the event of a fight. I expected to be treated the same, should a fight proceed and continue."I Don't Think You Understand" Instinct.
Combat through instinct.
...But they were here to talk.
...But Gabriel hadn't seen "Unfettered" in such a long time.
Or perhaps another trick of the mind?"We shall see how your Pact plays out, theres still much I don't know since your revival it seems..." 'Revival?' "Unfettered" wanted to laugh. 'Since when did I die?'---except he was still in the process of counting off his propositions, that Gabriel decided to verbalize himself in between.
"By all means I will try my best..."---
How long are a few words? A few seconds.
How long are a few thoughts to discern and dicpher a few words, their tone, the body language implied?
Milliseconds.
How long to discern words for a person who has had to deal with the Mafia, Italian police, California police, various gang members, Chinese gang members, and some of the most hardened Corporal-Punishment based students in California?
This was "Unfettered."
Immediately, his left knee loosened, incapable of bending his right knee properly, his hands drawn out strangely to his sides, though nothing was readily implied by his body's laxness."en guard.." ---"DON'T YOU DARE FUCK WITH ME, YOU SHIT!" came the abrupt roar, a few strands of spittle coming out.
If that wasn't enough to stop Gabriel from moving and proceed with his attack, the German would notice the shoulder movement which would lead to the arm movement, which would lead to the hand movement, "Unfettered's" eyes flickering with every movement, watching the flash of red---The man he began to perceive as a dumbass was faster then him. At being a dumbass.
The starting distance was probably around three to five feet.
All Gabriel was doing was "dashing his blade at the German" and to do it that quickly by unsheathing the sword would result in the sword being drawn and and slashed with only one hand. That would imply then that Mr. Seran was only swinging his blade---a bit of a test move, if anything. This indicated nothing of power behind the swing, no hip movement, no waist movement that was described. A strike with little to no power aside from Mr. Seran's own natural exertion of strength with his muscles with nothing other then by consuming some of his strength (which, if repeated, could potentially tire Mr. Seran out ever so slightly over a long, long period of time) to draw momentum and strike at "Unfettered" with no real attack power.OOC: I have now used lack of detail and what is interpreted by writing, an old fighting style used by my worst rival, Steve. I am going all out, as a writer and reader, now. I apologize for the discomfort.That would mean ordinarily the blade's dash wouldn't be that fast at all, after all---except for the fact that Mr. Seran had the strength to destroy 14 walls with one punch, meaning it would hurt, and possibly dislocate the German's shoulder.
The German grinned, raising up his left arm slightly by three degrees to better let the blade come in to impact his shoulder.
"Unfettered" remembered a detail---Gabriel had never really fought him before in a true fight. That still didn't stop the German's opinion of the Frenchman to turn any less sour for his choice of action.
As soon as the blade would come within approximately six inches, the arm would move to close the blade closer towards his armpit with short, staccato movement that didn't require much strength of "Unfettered," to which he would proceed to allow the foot-deep (passing behind the German's armpit) or so of the blade to impact into the German's shoulder, to which he would flex his arm upward, with his left hand clenched into a fist so as to pump his arm into a flex of his bicep and other left-arm muscles to trap the blade in there.
Already, the German's left leg would be taking a step towards Mr. Seran to further seal this movement of impact while bringing his right arm forward with the twist the German's right side forward, while pulling the blade away with his left side while simultaneously followed up with a hobbled-step from the German's right leg forward and a pull-away from the German's left side, the gripping left arm that was clenched into a ninety-degree angle fist. The right arm would proceed to attempt to grab the Frenchman by his wrist while never looking away, and if he caught onto the wrist, he would make sure that the palm of his hand would twist the wrist to try and help loosen the grip the Frenchman had on his sword by placing the palm of his hand on the back of the wrist and squeezing down on the hand's blood veins to help weaken the grip.
Why hadn't the German by stopped by the swing of the blade?
Seething, the German was grimacing as he would bring himself into a forward charge while doing all of this, to headbutt himself into Gabriel's charge, letting their hair tangle up with each other as his would fly forward to blind both of their visions, while the German would spit down---probably on the Frenchman's shirt.
...The Poseidon Chest Plate..."YOU FUCKING MONKEY!! I SAID I WOULD GIVE YOU THE OPPORTUNITY TO ATTAIN ME, MY RESPECT, MY LOYALTY, NOT TAKE IT BY FORCE WHENEVER YOU WISHED FOR IT!?"
"ARE YOU SO BASE AS TO STRIKE WHEN IT IS A TIME TO TALK!?"
"HAVE WE DISCUSSED THE TIME AND MANNERISMS IN WHICH YOU WOULD TRAIN ME!? THE METHODS IN WHICH I WOULD COMPENSATE YOU!?"
"HAVE YOU GIVEN ME THE CHANCE TO DETAIL MY EXPLANATIONS TO YOU!?"
"DO YOU DISTRUST ME SO AS TO THINK I WOULD STRIKE AT YOU AT OUR FIRST MEETING IN SEVERAL MONTHS!?"
"IS YOUR FIRST INSTINCT TO ALWAYS FIGHT!?"
"MONKEY!"
"ZE FRICKEN!"
"QUIT BEING SO IMPATIENT!"Because of how little the German had to moved, he hoped to negate the difference of his weak (to monster-standards, he was still quite fast compared to normal humans) dexterity.
If all of this worked and Gabriel would stop his attack, the German would loosen his arm and not force the sword all the way out of the Frenchman's hand with a further pivot of his waist and more pressure to the wrist.
If all of this worked and Gabriel did not stop, the German would suddenly press his face forward, hidden by his hair to shut the French up with a kiss.
With tongue.
A French man deserves a French kiss.
Frustrating prick.
The German was going to have to brush his teeth. A lot.
Regardless, disappointment welled in the German. What happened to the honored times of talking? Obviously, the French was overzealous in wanting to take the German down, or he misinterpreted and thought the German wanted to train and/or give Gabriel the chance to convince the German to join him, via force immediately.
Best case scenario? The German wouldn't have to actually do anything and the first shout would stop all of this potential nonsense.* * * * * * * * * * * * * "Unfettered's" Statistics:
Strength: 50
Dexterity: 9
Constitution: 83
Intelligence: 71
Wisdom: 68
Charisma: 11
OOC Note: Keep in mind, this is written without any malcontent at all. "Unfettered" is just showing a new side to him these days, what with his whole world and original basis of origin crumbling about him, and he isn't quite calm for the time being.
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Post by Gabriel Seran on Dec 14, 2009 18:03:06 GMT -8
Upon first shout Gabriel felt his fist clench up, he hadn't been expecting that certainly all too much. And he could very well stop now but what would that show of him? Simply that he was misinterpreting "Unfettered's" Ideals, and of course that was not how he wanted this meeting to go down, rather he had a more essential way of ending this in both their favors. For Gabriel it was to not look stupid and while he didn't know what "Unfettered's" goal was in all this he could very well assume that he didn't want to be shown underestimating Gabriel very well. But then again who was he fooling from what he'd seen of the man there was nowhere this guy wouldn't go certainly even for a French kiss. But he'd certainly not get that far.
Gabriel having faltered on his first step hesitantly holding the blade now more for protection than an offensive tool it was designed for experienced the fullest extent of "Unfettered's" tact, so to speak. Having been caught up in the man's grip he felt the taut grip on his wrist he contemplated letting the blade go, it'd increase his abilities tenfold and this would be over in a manner of minutes of course listening further proved that was not in his best intentions.
Rather Gabriel would shift narrowly dodging the gruff head butt, seeing as he hadn't followed the blade's directed coarse downward he had full control of that limb and while his left was clasped roughly, his wrist still had normal extensions giving him the ability to turn outward avoiding such a blunt force. From this point given all went accordingly, Gabriel would be out of the way of the blunt force still remaining withing control, "Unfettered's" movement still forward on his heels given the head butt was the forceful sort he'd still have forward momentum. At this point Gabriel's knee would drive up into his lower chest from the diagonal angle he was projected at. From here the damage would be positioned along the lower three ribs and at the lower end if hit the Nazi would suffer down to just above the hip bone.
"I know you're here here with your regularities, but things have changed... I'd suggest you stop giving orders and start listening.... much like you used to.."
Gabriel would say just before sliding the blade away and offering a hand up hopping that instead of pressing forward his wrist would be released and his hand taken in friendship rather than revenge.
(OOC: Gawd I missed this... =D)
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Post by "Unfettered" on Dec 15, 2009 1:42:28 GMT -8
We Call It "Foreplay" These days, it was always a difficult matter to tell what the German was thinking, what he was feeling, and what kind of show he was putting on for whatever purpose. That is to say, the German always had a purpose with everything he did. Every single scar, every single memory, every single confusion, thought, possibility, potential licked at his body, wearing down at him in a constant state. To declare sadness on himself in the form of his knee only gave his mindset's motives physical form. But in some ways, it was this broken, destroyed knee that gave him even an ounce of solace, that allowed him to keep on smiling. At the same time, it was not a pain that he would announce, though it would be obvious by the new attachments to his already erratic behavior by becoming a constant in his life. His own secret pleasure of pain, knowing that pain was nowhere close to being redeemed as opposed to actually being forgiven for those one had sinned against. A little taste of his sweet self-damnation.
...Unless that's just some poetic thoughts with no real base to support it. Always hard to tell seeing as there could be a multitude of reasons
That same light did provide him an almost equal amount of enjoyment as the fact that he could not be taken down in one or two hits.
There was still the weight of his "Ambition" to contend with, both figuratively and physically. This weight jeopardized the capabilities of his Charisma as the observant Gabriel Seran must have noticed of "Unfettered"---hence why it was actually secretly surprising to the German that the yell had worked so well... Or was it? Perhaps, a gamble though it was, the fact that it had been so long since they had seen each other had a suspected guess? Hard to say. Regardless, Mr. Seran's change in actions were noted, his first step weakening in realization to what the German was in the process of doing. That didn't mean that the hit didn't go through, if weaker then intended, and that meant then that the German's second series of yells had proceeded to go through.
But the occurrence of "Unfettered's" second series of yells was impossible, since that would imply that the headbutt had succeeded.
The second problem being that Gabriel had dodged his head out of the way completely, meaning that "Unfettered's" headbutt, which was naturally only meant for the forehead would only eat air, meaning that Gabriel had dodged his head out of the way more then just "narrowly," meaning the neck was open.
However, the German refused to attempt to create a usage of Gabriel's opening of his neck and attempt to bite it, afraid that it would create a closet homage to the Twilight series.
Also, Gabriel's sword swing momentum, because of the length and weight of the blade, to be swung upwards and downwards would only result in the further tightening of the German's flexing in his bicep only to suddenly relax the bicep slightly (which was all that was needed), going so far as to reach with his long length of his arm to reach for the Frenchman's hilt, and would attempt to further draw the Frenchman's wrist further towards him, to catch the blade at a horrible angle in his armpit---a move that would strain the German, at the cost of negating the sword-arm, as his right arm would only proceed to tighten his grip around the Frenchman's wrist, therein bringing his right elbow to his lower-chest's defense (just above his stomach) while the German would optimistically have grip of the hilt, which would be pulled in further then his hopefully still continued grip of Mr. Seran's wrist.
It was in this way that, while "Unfettered" was still in the process of moving forward to Gabriel Seran, pulling each other towards each other, in time for Gabriel's knee to meet with "Unfettered's" elbow, which would be nasty for both---except for the fact that this blow was also negated by the power of Poseidon's chest plate.
"Unfettered" felt no damage, but he knew his Chest Plate's power was exhausted now. And if this had all gone to plan, hopefully it would help bring counter-damage to Gabriel's knee. The German's feet would then plant themselves, as he would proceed to continue his grip, still turned with his left side facing in a thirty-degree angle behind him and his right side facing the thirty-degree angle in front of him, towards Gabriel, meaning that the blocking elbow could be used, at this range for some light damage on Gabriel's stomach if he proceeded to use his left leg (which was behind him by half a step) and bent his heel up in the air to press the whole of his body forward while sliding his crippled right leg towards the French man---but he did no such thing."I know you're here here with your regularities, but things have changed... I'd suggest you stop giving orders and start listening.... much like you used to.." Since if all of the preceding was successful, the German wouldn't be downed (and probably wouldn't be anyways, due to the power of his Poseidon Chest Plate), the German would only curl his face into a snarl."HUWAAH!"
"DON'T YOU DARE LOOK DOWN ON ME! YOU FUCK!---"---Curling abruptly into a grin to distort the mood, the German would suddenly release his grip, his arms growing lax at his sides, allowing the Frenchman to hit him once if he even so liked. There was no doubt, though. "Unfettered's" smile was sincere, though his eyes weighed heavily with many matters, not as lucid as it used to be."Gabriel, of course I am not going to listen to you if you just launch a surprise attack at me. However, it only expected of mein equal to catch on. Still, good show."...Acting and lying to one's self to convince himself of anger was just one of the many traits the German had to acquire in order to create a new persona of ultimate superficial realism---Z.E.B. The sincerity in his feelings of betrayed rage could potentially be as real as his potentially displayed feelings and thoughts of genuine cordiality in this sudden change of mood.
The German would take any hit the Frenchman could proceed to throw at him, but he would recover, probably bleeding, only to smile and probably grin larger without any signs of retaliation."Anyvayz, it is just simply a difference in the matter of how ve make people respect ourselves as individuals. I think you should realize zat I cannot allow to show myself to yield, as a matter of stubborn pride, regardless of how wrong I am. I cannot let the blood zat is on my hands be for nothing," the German would continue, pocketing his hands, as he looked skyward, to the side. "If you are still ze head of some group, I would assume you are possibly in a similar situation."
"I can show you my weak side, but because of how far I have been forced to go, I cannot yield zis so-called 'pride' vithout dying first---I still have people that follow me, even if it is not here, and I cannot let them down even if they are not watching," the German grinned suddenly, looking Gabriel square in his right eye, erecting his body to stand properly as the painkillers were in full effect now.
Walking slowly, subconsciously making himself hobble to favor his right knee, he'd walk towards the edge of the roof. If Gabriel chose follow---no, to walk with him, the German would slow his pace so they were both side-by-side to each other. If not, the German would just simply stop at the edge, looking down with this thoughtful look on his face, resisting the temptation to bury his mouth in his scarf as that would muffle his voice."It is just as well if we were to fight. I vould need to convince you, in those heated moments to think me no more then some heated, emotional asshole if it vill help you push me to ze brink of life und death," suddenly turning to face Gabriel, his face turning pensive, as he focused on something that was not there."My people can no longer keep up with me at full strength. I vould like to request to utilize your resources of men, women, und yourself for me to fight against for the next three months."
"I must fight Leon."Still though... it is not as though the German ignored all the words Gabe said in that moment. That heated moment.
...Was he losing his ability to listen to others? That would make sense, as he was slowly losing parts of himself---but this was as constructive as it was destructive.
The easiest, hardest, best and worst way to create something was to start from scratch. He was not certain if he lost his ability to listen completely, but hopefully, if it was damaged, it could hopefully be a trait he could repair and if it was lost that it could be revitalized anew."I am asking for your help, mein freund, as an equal, for your help in making me stronger both physically, mentally, und tactically. I am more zen villing to compensate you for any expenditures of finances, resources, injuries, and so on."
"..."
"Please."Almost a whisper, and enough for the German to look away, to hide his eye with his hair by the natural way it would fall over it.
Hopefully, as long as things progressed successfully in this manner, the German would be able to wait for Gabriel to inquiry into the why or ask what else the German's other points were or however Gabriel would respond.
The German for whatever reputation he had or may have had was showing a very, very vulnerable side that did not come out often.
Hypocrisy... incapable of yielding?
Its not like the German never yielded to her...
Not that one. That one.
'Oye, Mitsuki? Hey, I at least am glad to know you're... alive.' 'You've changed.' 'My old comrades, my... friends, my enemies... we've all changed, we're all growing.' 'So am I. 'Cause I'm still alive. |
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Post by Gabriel Seran on Dec 15, 2009 12:16:25 GMT -8
Even at such close a distance Gabriel's superior speed had made very little difference at this point holding him up inches from a supposed victory as his knee met with a strange alloy hurting briefly but it was nothing he hadn't been up against in the past if anything he'd hide away the numb part with a subtly noticed limp only to recover after a quick few steps. He didn't take the words lightly as "Unfettered" made his point.
"DON'T YOU DARE LOOK DOWN ON ME! YOU FUCK!---"
Gabriel smirked with a quick rebuttal, "Somewhat impossible given our stature..." Gabriel hinted at the fact that given Gabriel's height and "Unfettered's" lowered position taking up the defensive that Gabriel would be standing just under his full height still a tad bit taller than Jon himself as he looked down at an angle.
Lowering his hand still of the offer Gabriel smirked letting him take it and followed him at his side, as an equal. A slow thought process as he deliberated all that was being said, that was until Leon was mentioned. Gabriel flinched, what did "Unfettered" hope to prove by fighting Leon? Even in his excellent fighting stature what did he hope to accomplish in facing the behemoth of Dragons.
"What did you have in mind...?"
Gabriel was curious at this point of course he didn't entirely understand "Unfettered" for too long they'd been on opposite sides of the street never in contact but there was still the strange bond he felt from before following that chess game he'd played the man realizing that he was no fool.
"I'll lend you my aid, friend..."
A rare trusting moment of Gabriel much like when he'd first reaffirmed "Unfettered's" existence when he didn't fight the power now given to Victor. Yes it was a change of heart, strangely because he trusted the man enough above others for some strange misguided cause.
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))
