|
|
Post by Delilah A. Black on Feb 12, 2013 22:58:48 GMT -8
Delilah watched as Cain limped walked over to the vehicle, her eyes slightly narrowed as her bright blue eyes tracked him. She remembered back in the fight; she hadn't seen him get hurt, but she almost remembered hearing the tell-tale 'whumpf' and 'crack' of a torso hit. That could very well have been a Barker soldier, but looking at him, she was almost positive he had suffered an injury.
Smiling, Delilah/Anna stooped to pick up the knife lodged in the Experiments wrist before sauntering over to him as he spoke about 'Gunner' and a 'pick-up'. Internally, she panicked for a moment. Unsafe. Very unsafe. She forced herself to exhale. Calm down. You're just on an adrenaline high. Fucking relax.
And if it isn't, you'll deal with it accordingly.
Noise made her pause in her steps, head snapping to the side that the noises were coming from. Her eyes widened at the drastic changes in sound and pitch before an unsettling silence was all that remained. That was bad. Whatever that was, it was BAD.
"...The hell?"
She rushed rapidly over to Cain then, whipping off her blood stained hoodie as she stepped close to him, throwing the hoodie around his ribs and tying it off, not even thinking about the fact that she was revealing the tell tale scars up and down her rather muscular arms. The hoodie would serve as a loose tensor, to prevent his ribs from jostling too much. "Get down," she hissed, pulling him down and behind the car he was sitting on as gently as she could, using a But if he resisted, she wouldn't hesitate to get a little more rough with the man.
|
|
|
|
Post by The New Student Dean on Feb 14, 2013 1:58:08 GMT -8
Leviticus Absolutely nothing.
The blacktop was still hot and partially on fire with the remains of #F04589 still bleeding out of his head, his eyes open, dead with the horror of his own death trapped in them. The willowing wisp of smoke burned with the slowly cooking stench of flesh.
They would wait for five minutes with nothing of occurence happening upon them.
The blacktop was still hot and the fire was extinguied with the remains of #F04589's head cradled in the hands of a rather large, muscular man with hundreds of thousands of threads sewn directly onto his body. He bled freely. #F04589's eyes were stitched closed. All of the bodies were piled into the streets. The alleyway was empty with bloody streak marks where the bodies once were, signs of them having been violently dragged.
Quietly, the man began to mumble, his face stern, a look of sadness expressed upon his face. His firm lips did not quiver. This amazing specimen slowly, mechanically looked up, his mumbling continuing to increase, as he stretched out his hand, palm face-up, almost pleadingly through to the heavens...
...Delilah might notice something thing shoot out of his hand. Or perhaps it was just a trick of the light reflecting off his pale, sewn skin? Indeed, the man's attire was all very well made, but it looked as though everything he wore from his gauntlets, to his vest, to his loincloth was all sewn to his very body.
A pidgeon flew into his hand...
The man lowered his gaze down to the delightful creature, allowing it to step from his fingers and onto his palms...
---There was only blood seen dripping from the fingers of the man's now closed fist, the animal's head still sticking out, eyes and beak open wide, as though surprised at the own suddenness of its own death.
Ceremoniously, the dead bird was placed precisely six inches above from #F04589's lips, where it dripped lightly.
...Leech might notice the tracks of blood that were all over the ground. They were very faint, as though spread all around... but the sheer amount of blood that was stepped in, to make all these tracks...
The man looked up, and then over to the alleyway. [glow=maroon,2,300]"Cometh."[/glow]The voice was not angry. In fact, it was gentle, as though a father speaking to a naughty child. An understanding parent. His words audible no matter where they stood, as though he was right next to them.
The dove was next to the boy's laid down body, where it burned, precisely three inches in front of the top of his head. The flames licked up perfectly straight.
...? |
|
|
|
Post by Vespyr on Feb 14, 2013 3:11:31 GMT -8
Blood of the Lamb
"Hey--" Cain barked, though hardly protesting as the woman's quick hands slipped around his chest with the jacket. He winced as she tugged it into a knot and pulled him aside. His mouth opened to speak, but found nothing to say as he crouched on the pavement beside Anna. His red gaze lingered on her for a moment, brow raised, before he turned his head toward the car to glance inconspicuously through the window. He couldn't see anything, but…
*"Hey, man,"* the radio suddenly crackled, breaking the silence. Cain's hand snapped to the walkie-talkie and he twisted down the volume knob.
"Not now, dude."
*"We got a problem."* the radio insisted, much more quietly.
"What's that?"
*"No truck. Ves--"*
"HUH-HRM." [/i] Cain abruptly cut in with a dire need to clear his throat that very instant. *"--says 'it's your own damn fault you got in trouble off-terr'--"* "AH-HRM."*"--in the first place."*"Ya fuckin' kidding me. [/s] Aight, no problem."[/color][/b] *"Sorry bro. Need help though?"* "Nah I'll be fine. Out." he sighed, shoving the walkie-talkie back onto the belt of his jeans… not a moment too soon, as fast, heavy footsteps came within earshot. Somebody had arrived. Cain flicked his gaze back over to Anna with his brow raised, interest piqued along with his caution. His right hand moved to his pocket for his switchblade again, silently flicking it unsheathed while his other hand motioned for Anna to get closer to him is she wasn't already at his side, making themselves as small and inconspicuous as possible. He waited, taking slow and silent breaths. For once Leech didn't seem to be smiling; rather, his brow remained slightly tensed as he listened to the strange sounds from the other side of the car, trying to figure out what was going on over there. Occasionally he'd flick his red eyes over to the girl's blue ones, silently questioning, still listening. Things were being dragged; bodies, no doubt. Not gently, either. Without a view to the scene, it just sounded like a bunch of sacks of meat and bones were being trawled carelessly across the pavement. This happened five or so times: five bodies of eight. There were two in the alleyway that hadn't been retrieved yet, Cain could see, having a clear view of the alleyway from where they sat. A pang of alarm hit him as the heavy footsteps began again, heading for… Anna would feel a light tap on her arm. Cain nodded urgently to the right a little bit and began to scoot as quietly as possible toward the back of the car, moving out of view of the alleyway long enough for the other two bodies to be retrieved. Cain stared over at the bloody, burnt mess that had been the experiment and narrowed his eyes at it… were those… stitches? No time to find out; the mysterious mover of the bodies was coming back around, and as he did so, Cain would scoot back around to the lee of the car's flank. And he thought he was being so sneaky… When someone spoke. Cain froze a little. He turned to Anna and stared. The corner of his lip twitched into a half-smile, a skeptical one. It was obvious they were being addressed. Would he continue to hide behind the car like a coward, and wait for whatever consequence was to come? It would be so unlike him. A full grin crept across his face, almost reassuring. He lifted a hand, gesturing for Anna to stay crouched for the moment as he pushed off the pavement and got to his feet, turning to face the-- What the actual fuck am I seeing?[/blockquote][/size] |
|
|
|
Post by Delilah A. Black on Feb 14, 2013 18:13:37 GMT -8
Delilah kept her eyes forward as Cain studied her, her jaw set resolutely. She wasn't trying to peek through windows or around the car as he was; she was listening with the blood pounding in her ears and her skin alight with every sensation that passed over her exposed flesh, from the drying blood to the slight breeze and the decline of the suns rays.
*"Hey, man,"*
Delilah's head swiveled to Cain, lips parting slightly to tell him to turn down the radio, which he did before she could actually do so. Her lips set themselves in a grim line and she faced forward again, listening with one ear on the conversation and the other on their surroundings.
"Not now, dude."
*"We got a problem."*
"What's that?"
*"No truck. Ves--"*
"HUH-HRM." [/i] *"--says 'it's your own damn fault you got in trouble off-terr'--"* "AH-HRM."*"--in the first place."*"Ya fuckin' kidding me. [/s] Aight, no problem."[/color][/b] *"Sorry bro. Need help though?"* "Nah I'll be fine. Out."[/blockquote] Delilah's eyes had drifted to Cain throughout the exchange, inspecting him shamelessly with a wry smirk in spite of their predicament. Despite his best efforts, she knew now he was part of a gang. The question was...which gang? Then, rather conspicuous footsteps rang through the area and her expression hardened again as Cain looked over at her with interest. A shoulder lifted and fell in a half shrug to indicate her response. Wiping some of the gore off her bowie knife on her pant leg as he flicked open his switchblade, she moved closer to him as he beckoned her, bodies a hairs breadth from touching now. If it had been any other circumstance, she would have recoiled at the closeness to a strange man. But this was business, that of life and death. There was no room for shyness. Though she was practically sitting in his lap. His breath shifted the loose strands of hair on her forehead, tickling her, but she wouldn't move. Listening, completely still, answering Cain's questioning looks with a long slow blink each time and a minute twitch of her head that could be a shake. No, I don't know what's going on or who that is, but I KNOW it's bad.Her head turned at the sounds of dragging and Delilah closed her eyes as she visualized what was going on based on their location. Flesh and cloth on asphalt (which was still REALLY hot), sliding sounds...dragging? And quickly, too. Efficient. A chill went up her spine. More footsteps. Cain touched her arm and she nodded, opening her eyes to follow him silently around the car and out of immediate view of the "whoever it was". As she did this, Delilah noticed a hand raise above the hood of the car, into the air. Something...quick shot out of his palm. Quick and thin. She took stock of what she saw; gauntlets, blood, fairly new...and then it was gone again. A pidgeon came down and, though she didn't see it's fate, she heard it. They shifted back the way they came as the footsteps moved again. She was still very much on edge. Even if this man left now, she would stay in her position probably until well after night fall, just to be sure. That was how badly she was creeped out. Though why, she could not fathom.[/size] "Cometh." The alarm bells sounding in Delilah's mind were now ringing frantically. She turned her gaze to Cain as he did to her, blue eyes locking onto his penetrating red stare. She watched as his lips pulled into a sardonic smile, and she lifted and lowered an eyebrow in agreement. He knew they were there. The careful hiding was all for naught.
Oh well.
Then, Cain smiled and started to his feet. Delilah would try to wave him away from actually doing this, but it was too late. Cursing to herself, she braced her foot against a pothole in the ground, prepared to launch herself up and into the air the second it was necessary. If it even was.
|
|
|
|
Post by The New Student Dean on Feb 15, 2013 1:00:05 GMT -8
Call Of The Scorpion Leech would peer over, spotting the man... who had remained perfectly still. [glow=maroon,2,300]"Cometh."[/glow]The man repeated it gravely, waving his hand again ceremoniously towards them. He did not seem to stare at them but rather through them. The strange way in which his fingers seemed to go at all these millions of pre-thought out locations as he waved them over continued to display the eerie precision that the man initially beckoned them towards him with.
...Delilah might feel... cob webs in her hair... and perhaps possibly inclined towards standing up...? |
|
|
|
Post by Vespyr on Feb 15, 2013 2:05:47 GMT -8
Leech narrowed his eyes at the man with skepticism, either cautious or not too fond of being told what to do.
"I'm right here, buddy." he said in a low voice. He was already standing no further than fifteen feet from the man, and getting any closer without good reason would just be... not Cain's kind of reckless. He ran his index finger along the blade of his switchblade which, along with the lower half of his arm and the rest of him, would be hidden behind the vehicle. If Anna rose to her feet, Cain would cast her a sidelong glance, hoping she'd stay close. There was absolutely no telling what this strange-looking stranger intended to do. |
|
|
|
Post by Delilah A. Black on Feb 15, 2013 2:17:56 GMT -8
Anna/Delilah was...pulled to her feet. Imperceptible, minute tugging motions urged her upright. She didn't struggle, but she was alarmed. Looking sideways at Cain, she shook her head slightly, to indicate that this wasn't her doing.
The..strings(?) in her hair tugged and twitched, and she reached up a hand to brush them from her hair. She stared across at the...imposing man flatly, unamused, not dropping her knives.
Following cain's lead, remaining where she was.
|
|
|
|
Post by The New Student Dean on Feb 15, 2013 2:25:34 GMT -8
Loss Of A Child With greater reverance still, the man cast his bleary, green-purple eyes at the both of them, the strings fluttering open. It was as though his eyelid's lashes were pulled upward like a curtain, as he stared at them still with greenish-purple eyes, his nose forcibly exhaling. Gingerly, #F04985 was laid to rest as the man who was crouching stood up.
He was about seven feet tall and covered in morbid pattern stitchings. He was well dressed... save for all of the patches of cloth that were forcibly woven to his arm with distinct precision. [glow=maroon,2,300]"Buddy. I may be.
"Buddy, I may not."[/glow]The man's eyes turned turqoise gray as he moved precisely forty-five degrees forward and to the right... before pacing immediatly left of where he was, at the seven foot mark. Never did his eyes trail away from them.[glow=maroon,2,300]"Honesty serves,"[/glow] he alluded. Hinting with his scrutenizing eyes.[glow=maroon,2,300]"Did thou kill the Child?"[/glow]His tone was solid, unreadable. Blood trailed after him perfectly in his steps... long crimson lines weaving after him. |
|
|
|
Post by Vespyr on Feb 15, 2013 2:29:25 GMT -8
Cain stared, completely unsure if the man intended to deal justice or not. Unsure if he'd be able to stand up to something like that and get away with his head.
"Yeah," Cain answered, shameless and unfazed, though his hackles bristled a bit. |
|
|
|
Post by Delilah A. Black on Feb 15, 2013 2:34:52 GMT -8
Delilah's eyes narrowed at the question and she slipped closer to Cain as he gave his answer, almost (but not quite) standing in front of him. More like overlapping on his right hand side as they faced the strange man that sent chills racing up and down her spine.
She regretted nothing, not even the deaths of the last two she had dealt with. Life was life. Her will to live was stronger. That was the deciding factor of combat.
The mechanic would refrain from speaking, eyes still shifting downward to inspect the curious trail of blood following after him. Did it have something to do with the object she saw rise from his palm before?
She was no longer sure she wanted to find out.
|
|
|
|
Post by The New Student Dean on Feb 15, 2013 2:52:32 GMT -8
Loss Of A Child Precision, precision, precision.
At the seven foot mark and several inches to make him precisely between the two, the man clasped his fingers together... and rew them out from one another in perfect symmetry. Long, red threads were drawn out from them. [glow=maroon,2,300]"Then he died in combat, shackled, a slave."[/glow]The lines of thread were stretched further and further. Crimson lines began to entwine downward. The man's fingers began to shake, and the blood droplets began to dance. It almost looked as though... the lines of blood at the center, as they circled down into an oval, constantly dripping, constantly moving... began to take on the familiar face of a boy. But only for a fleeting moment.
Perhaps it was just trick play.
The man stared at the one named Leech with reddish-gray eyes.[glow=maroon,2,300]"Thou freed him."[/glow]His voice was even... as he clasped his fingers together, letting the blood droplets raining down in front of him in perfect symmetry, six feet towards Leech, never once touching his boot. Much as when he first approached him, now the man turned left and turned right at a forty-five degree angle, but now with... startling speed...Moderator Note:
- Dexterity: 700 - 640 = 60
His words' tone did not change, as the ritual the man wove grew more and more intense.[glow=maroon,2,300]"You two then have done service unto us. It is time for your reward."[/glow]The man would suddenly stop in front of Leech. And... huddled over his left arm and began... unsewing it. Blood dripped out furiously, spattering in both of their faces, as the man began to mumble exactly what he was doing.Moderator Note:
- Dexterity: 700 - 60 = 640
[glow=maroon,2,300]"Levicitcus will be your witness, Normal."[/glow] |
|
|
|
Post by Vespyr on Feb 15, 2013 2:59:10 GMT -8
"What the… get the fuck--" Cain stammered, confused, startled by the speed with which the tall man had suddenly appeared in front of him. He recoiled with a grimace as blood splattered his face, even at the man's mentioning of a reward. |
|
|
|
Post by Delilah A. Black on Feb 15, 2013 3:10:38 GMT -8
Her heart beat quickened, not flinching as the man's blood spattered her face. The unstitching of the garments sewn into his skin, the ritual he performed with his hands (the strands in her hair!). Her eyes could not track his speed, not even for an instant. Too fast, much to fast. For a moment, she could barely comprehend how this was possible[glow=maroon,2,300]"Levicitcus will be your witness, Normal."[/glow]And then he said that.
"Experiment," she breathed. A 'failed' one at that. She remembered Orion using the term for anyone who was not one. This man was too strong, too much to handle. He was worth SIXTY of her, if his speed was any indictation.
She activated her Qi.
Level: Tungsten.
Str : 60
Dex : 71
Con : 51
Int : 45
Wis : 44
Cha : 18
Metal flashed as it coated the front of her body in an instant in quicksilver, slithering over her bare arms and face as though it had a life of it's own. She leveled a stare at the man across from her, with a feeling he wouldn't be intimidated. That was fine. It wasn't her purpose anyway.
This was a show that she was, perhaps, "NORMAL" by his standards...but by no means was Delilah Black normal.
"Explain," she said finally, without a trace of the Spanish accent she had adopted and with a calm, icy firmness. Anna lost in the urgency of the moment.
|
|
|
|
Post by The New Student Dean on Feb 15, 2013 3:22:40 GMT -8
Forsaken Child Suddenly, the man would move again with the same startling speed. Standing at one point at Leech's left flank, standing behind him, and standing at his right flank, always hunched over, always facing him, always standing in Leech's cardinal direction. The man's fingers drew out again, this this time hovering over the man's arms and hands, back and waist, neck and head. Always muttering with his greenish-yellow eyes. [glow=maroon,2,300]"Six foot, one.
"Waist: thirty-two.
"Inseam: thirty-three.
"Thirty-four chest.
"Medium.
"Medium.
"Thirty-two by thirty-three.
"A forty 'R.'---"[/glow]The man was standing in front of Leech again. When did his fingers land on top of his scalp. Leech would find it... difficult to move. Perhaps the sensation of his leg falling asleep... would resonate about his scalp. Perhaps it was as though thousands of little needles would press on his head.
Maybe it would be excruciatingly painful...
The man's ears perked at the breath.
...When he start standing next to Delilah?
---Delilah would see the man appear before him, his shadow leaping towards her, as a large pile of encircled thread had appeared in his hands. He would extend it out to her, his voice stern.[glow=maroon,2,300]"Assist me, Acoylte"[/glow] he prompted her with steel blue eyes.
She would feel... inclined---specifically at her elbows---to grab the bloody length of what looked like ten pounds of thread, roped around into a bundled circle. However, if she actually fought against it... very gently and deliberately, the man would place the bundled rope of thread around her blade, letting it slide down to the hilt. And in his right fist would be seen seven threads between the man's thumb and forefinger. Leviticus' left arm was now bare and covered in millions of bleeding pin-ricks that seemed a sickish black-red hue.[glow=maroon,2,300]"The Normal.
"He brims gossamer red at his core."[/glow]His eyes as he looked, rather dramatically to his side, his "S's" purposefully slurred, reflected a volcanic red.
Leech might have begun to feel cobwebs in his hair. |
|
|
|
Post by Vespyr on Feb 15, 2013 3:41:35 GMT -8
Leech raised his knife, but no matter which way he turned, the man had already slipped out of his sights. Only moments had passed when suddenly he was staring at the stranger again, frozen where he stood.
Cain's red eyes were thrown wide. With the man's large hand poised on the crown of his head, chilling pinpricks immediately became shooting pains that raced from the top of his skull down to the bottoms of his boots in less than an instant. It felt like thousands of needles speared through his very brain; like an electric shock that left him utterly paralyzed where he stood. His jaw didn't even have time to drop all the way, leaving his mouth just slightly agape as a pained breath struggled to make its way into his chest.
For just that moment, his bewildered thought breaking through the excruciating pain and confusion, attempting to rationalize the situation, was that the man had killed him.
"D-damn," he whispered, in a voice completely placid, even slightly in awe. |
|
