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» Painting The Roses Red, The Valentine's Event, OPEN
Egon Beyersdorf
 Posted: Mar 26 2012, 03:30 AM
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Male Tech Priest
Surface Technology Consultant
The Acidine Guard
player: Emmit
38 posts





Tag: Tinker

Egon slowly awoke, light burning his eyes. A weak hand lifted to shield his retina's from the onslaught. Something was off, the hand that stood a silhouette before his eyes was thin and weak construct of the flesh. The hand barely amounted to anything more than bones which had skin painfully stretched over them. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Egon slowly looked around the room. He was laying in a bed situated in a room filled with books. Leather bound, hard-cover, and paperback books went from floor to ceiling, covering the floor wall to wall save for a small path from the door to the bed. A figure stood silently near the door. It was his father, or so Egon thought. It called to him in his father's voice, but as it lurched forwards it became evident that it was not. Flesh replaced with hard steel, smoke pouring from the boiler in it's chest, the figure slowly moved towards Egon, whispering sweet blasphemies beneath its sulfurous breath. You are weak. No son of mine is going to be a weak husk. You've brought shame to us, Egon. I will make you strong, once more. As the cold steel of the monster gripped Egon's tender throat, he was plunged into darkness.

Can ya count ta' three?

Sensory overload was a hell of a thing. The human mind could only handle so much information at once and as it so happened, having one's head literally destroyed was Egon's limit; he had feinted. All was dark, save for the small amount of light streaming in from his neck hole. The bellows which moved air into lungs were silent, the only noise coming from inside the chassis was the weak wheezing of Egon's breath. He could not move; he'd lost control of his own body. Panic had set in. The weak wheezing slowly sped up, straining to pull oxygen in. He stopped. Someone was touching him, fiddling with his body.

"Tinker, is-is that y-you?" he spoke quietly, his voice sounded so foreign to him. Gone was the mechanical buzz, the baritone undertone, replaced with the quiet, yet present, drawl of a East Egg native. "S-something, something is wrong, no, erm, yes, wrong. I-I-I cannot move. Something is wrong." His mind stopped dead in its tracks. Tinker brought upon his untimely ruination, but perhaps she would also bring about his salvation. He could not recall if she had explicitly told him that she was good with her tiny hertasi hands, but she was all he had.

"Miss Tinker, if-if you can hear me, I need you t-to go to my back and open up a panel. Shouldn't be too hard to open, open. S-s-something isn't catching right with the gears. If-if-if you c-c-could check for a problem, I would be m-most grateful." A weak coughing fit punctuated the set of instructions. If something wasn't done soon, he might never see the shop that Tinker had told him about.
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Kari Manon
 Posted: Mar 26 2012, 11:23 AM
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Member

Female Angel
Daytaler
Guildless
player: veni
62 posts





Oh Kari, what are you doing? She felt like she wasn't exactly doing the smartest thing here. Teasing the man with the gun? Besides, he looked like he had fired a barker at someone before. Her... not. She may have encountered more Dagenham thugs than anyone in her age ever should have but she'd always managed to get out of tricky situations without having to take desperate measures. Though sometimes it occurred to her that that wasn't all blessing. She hadn't ever killed someone before- and never intended to. She didn't even know wether she could if she had to. Didn't even know wether she would pull the trigger if he suddenly decided to. Maybe she should just-

Casually, and without much haste, Jonathan put the gun down. Really, he put the gun down. Kari stood frozen for a few seconds before she realized her mouth had opened in puzzlement. A few moments more, then she lowered her own barker.

She frowned. "What the hell are you doin'?", she asked, almost meaning to scold him. What did he think? He could have gotten killed.

"Hm, since you're just too pretty to shoot, maybe aiming at you isn't the best way to get your name", he said with a wry smile. He wasn't a man of logic, was he?

"...You sure maybe it isn't because you didn't have dates?"

"Oh, how d'ya want to know that we haven't all brought our own dates?", she returned, finding it all too easy to follow the trail of teasing and banter he'd started, but she may have sounded a bit hoarse. She still had to get over this new development. Kari was tempted to look over her shoulder into Judas' direction right there, but she wasn't quite ready to trust the man in front of her enough to show him the back of her head, so she just resorted to a meaningful smile.

"No actually. You know, we were going to have our own little festival down in the slums until we realized that we didn't even have any bread to feed the children, so we came here." That had sounded a lot more hateful than intended. "And oh boy, look what we've found", she said, trying a smile again and wiggled the shiny, polished gun in her own hand.


"Fall back!", came the call across the room and now she did turn. It was Judas. He looked angry.

For a moment she didn't quite grasp the situation. She was pulled closer to Judas, Jonathan positively surrounded by masked men.

"Stand aside." Oh wait, she knew that tone of voice. Kari almost rolled her eyes at Judas. Really? Now? Sometimes she just hated Judas' ability to make her feel like a twelve-year-old all over again. Her mask obscured her spiteful frown but the way her mouth tightened and her arms crossed was obvious. She was biting down a few unfriendly remarks towards her "savior".

No, she wasn't afraid of starting a fight with the bat-winged king right there. What held her back was the look Judas gave Jonathan. He was lucky to have put down the gun- Kari didn't know what had happened otherwise.


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hail to the thief.
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Jonathan Highwind
 Posted: Mar 26 2012, 02:17 PM
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Member

Male Human
Treasure Hunter
Guildless
player: Highwind
127 posts





Tag: Kari, Judas

It was all going so well.

The flirty banter was making headway. The reaction to the lowering of his weapon was exactly what he'd hoped for. When logic dictates you get your head blown off, blow off logic, Jonathan reasoned to himself with another ill-timed smile. If he could just get into this girl's good graces or pry enough information out of her, then he could track this wily gang to whatever hole they crawled out of and...what? He paused for a moment.

What would he do? Bust them? Try and take them all on? How ridiculous. No, but I could try and find the leader and get him to pay for anyone harmed today. Like poor ol' Derrick or that fat guy who took a round to the gut over there. He shakes the thought away--but just then, the woman's line about the starving kiddies undoes any planning in his head. Was this really what it was all about? Jon had heard of clashes between classes, but...was it this bad, really? How could he bust a group for trying to feed their families? Could she be lying?

Jon's smile vanished; instead, a concerned frown took its place.

Jonathan was fast, strong and cunning, but against the gaggle of goons that suddenly piled onto him, he had no real chance of escape. The wingspan--the black wingspan, that is--on the apparent leader of the would-be thieves sent dozens of observations and calculations racing through Jon's head, but, as arms encircled his own and legs entwined with his, he could do nothing to act upon them. His frustration mounting, Jonathan fought to free himself with elbows, chops and kicks, but to no avail.

The winged male who so possessively postured himself before the masked pretty called for the retreat. Jonathan thrashed, fighting to free himself, to secure the name of the girl if not the dance, but was encumbered by no less than five starved-but-strong attackers. "I...may not get...that dance," Jonathan snapped at the two winged folk, "but...I can find you! It's what I do!"

This last threat hung loudly over the mayhem of the retreat.

"Yaw! Yaw, on stupid manbeast! Yaw!" Ku'Pah, riding on the head of a bandit, his clawed digits peeled into the wailing, thrashing man's eyelids, guided his appropriated human steed in Jon's direction, bowling over the tangle of human appendages. As Ku'Pah and his mount collided with the tangle, everyone went sprawling, freeing Jonathan, but trapping everyone in an all new tangle of limbs, this time tangled up on the floor among broken dishes and ruined food. Ku'Pah himself landed squarely on his bum in the pudding, splashing everyone with chocolate and rum gooey mass.

"You have...the absolute worst...sense of the idea...of the word...back-up!" Jonathan growled as he fought to gain his feet, along with five flailing fiends. The winged leader had said someone needed medical attention more than she needed a dance? Think he means that walking arsenal, Jon realized as he finally achieved a vertical position. As Ku'Pah and Jon stood back to back facing the two winged bandits and their five goons, ready for a real bruiser of a brawl, Jon snorted. "You take the three on the left I take the four on the right?" joked Jonathan.

"So you can dance with the enemy and her big brother? Typical!"


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Kari Manon
 Posted: Mar 26 2012, 05:54 PM
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Member

Female Angel
Daytaler
Guildless
player: veni
62 posts





She didn't miss the change in Jonathan's expression when she mentioned why they were here. She had said that unthinkingly but only now realized that it was why she was here. She didn't know about Judas or the others but she thought they were sending a message. Even though that message would come out all muddled and wrong with this. No one had been meant to fire just one bullet in here.

A quick look around the room and Kari felt like she'd missed something. Something important. She turned to Judas. "Did you just shoot a TechPriest?" For a moment she wasn't sure wether she was confused or shocked.

"I...may not get...that dance, but I can find you! It's what I do!" She turned sharply to face the man, meaning to ask him wether he had gone out of his brains when --

Something furry and loud flew past Kari's vision, toppling over half of all the people surrounding her. Somebody wearing a clown's mask stumbled into her side, making her cling to Judas' neck for a second to keep her balance. The fuzzy thing turned out to be a ruffled Heritasi who promptly began arguing with Jon.

Kari couldn't help but look slightly amused. That had been supposed to be a rescue-maneuver, had it?

"Judas", she said, almost quietly in the whole mess around them. "Leave him. He didn't do anything." She sounded more like she was asking, not telling. But there still was an edge to her voice that indicated she was planning on punching him later on sometime.


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Derrick Breckenridge
 Posted: Mar 29 2012, 07:33 AM
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Member

Male Human
Daredevil/Aerobat
Carnival of Amgine
player: Atrice
96 posts





Tag: Kata, TNM

"Permanent…" Derrick repeated dumbly. At the surgeon's sly remark, he blinked up at her owlishly. Wondered if he should feel worried or flattered, and eventually decided on the latter. He grinned up at her, giggling like a schoolgirl at a sleepover. "You're funny. If there weren't two'a you right now, I'd definitely… definitely buy one'a you a drink."

"ON THE GROUND!"

Explicitly ignoring Kata's instruction, Derrick lifted up his head as much as he dared -- about an inch or so off the ground -- to get a better look at the intruder. He flopped a hand in greeting. "Haaaaay, man," he slurred, then let his head fall back to the ground. A moment passed. He added, a note of braggadocio in his voice, "I'm gettin' roofied." He giggled again.

What a strange night.
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Kata Mochizuki
 Posted: Apr 4 2012, 02:27 PM
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Member

Female Human
Lotus Petal / Trauma Surgeon
The Black Lotus
player: Silkspinner
372 posts





(Derrick, TNM)

She’d be yelling at the fallen entertainer had she noticed him knocking his head against the floor. Luckily for Derrick, the background din drowned away the terribly subtle thud. Also, the gunman was commanding a rather substantial portion of her attention. The gunman… and her racing mind as she tried to figure out a way to talk down—or take down—this idiot thug. James remained behind the counter, crouched to a prowl, ears back and awaiting a command.

…And, suddenly, she didn’t have to. Someone from outside shouted something. This guard called for confirmation, and then…left. Just left.

Kata’s eyebrows quirked beneath the blindfold. Orders to pull back? Why-

Nevermind. It didn’t matter. Time was of the essence here. Or…was it?

Kata considered quietly. There would no doubt be Acidians here soon. Someone could transport this poor sap to a hospital, let him be treated there with proper tools. She wouldn’t be brushing elbows with Guards, and she had no reason to believe the kid was Lotus. Not like she had any investment in his future. She considered it, for several moments. Considered it seriously. Then, finally…she sighed.

Not like she had anything better to do.

“All right,” despite a soft-spoken undertone, her voice carried sure command. This was an operating room now, Makerdamnit. Her operating room. “This man needs help. Now, no time for the hospital. All of you cowering idiots, get out here and help me.” This, as her hands patted over the counters until they found a shot glass. Raised it to her nose…something fruity was in it last. Probably potable, then. The hellcat’s head pressed under her free hand at an unspoken command and guided her to the sink. She took a second pill, halved it, and then crushed one and a half of them gently under the glass, filled it with water, and brushed the crumbs into it. They dissolved almost instantly, of course, as they were intended to.

The surgeon walked back over to Derrick, kneeling beside him. Hand patted his chest once, then found the back of his neck to support his head gently, lifting the shot glass to his lip. “Bottoms up. I’ll have you fixed in no time.”
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The Nothing Man
 Posted: Apr 8 2012, 07:43 AM
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Glorified Hobo Joker

Male Surge
Ringleader, Postmodern Anarchist
Carnival of Amgine
player: AyeeDee
449 posts





(( Lucky you guys! Ayeedee is back tongue.gif Tag kara and Derrick))



The jester was many things but a healer was NOT something he could safely put on a resume. While he was decent with a needle and thread and much of unusual features about himself was done by none other then himself… They were not done to fix, not done to help and in all reality did more to hurt then anything else. It was all done in the name of art, all done to imitate what he already was, or USE to be. Human. Just tad more warped a tad more…surreal. None of this done was to heal or help, at this he was completely and utterly more blind then her.

What the Eclipse was, and there was little doubt left in the entertainers head, a true healer. This was a rather unusual skill for one of her disability to have. He knew well enough she was capable beyond what void her vision was left in, the quick and precise adaptation to the dance he challenged her with was more then enough proof of that… But this was a whole other game, it was a life quite literally in her hands.

……. If only this person she was operating on was someone I did not recognize. This was not his area and he was not usually one to infiltrate beyond his expertise but this was different. This was one of his own..

“ ON THE GROUND!”

How distracting…

What was he to do? What was he to do ….without a voice. That was when he noticed her going to poor an unknown substance down his throat. A substance that he can only assume would help knock him out and make his rather flailing self much easier to work with and even if it wasn’t what other choice did he have? He knew what to do but he had no idea if she would know WHAT he was trying to do.

He moved in before that glass could poor into his lips, his gloved hand would raise to gently touch hers and the glass. He wanted to take it, to do it himself… Even though she already found his lips perhaps she would piece the puzzle together and know the he wanted to be her eyes and hands….but without a voice the intent was anyone’s guess?


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There is a red and angry world.
Red things happen there.
The world eats your wife.
And eats your friends.
It eats all the things that make you human.

And it turns you into a monster..
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Tinker Tarry-Belle
 Posted: Apr 8 2012, 11:29 AM
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Brass and Kickass

Female Hertasi
Smuggler
Guildless
player: Ico
65 posts





Tinker let out a low whistle at that, shaking her head though Egon probably couldn't see it. "I'll do wot I kin', Egon. Next time, love-- playin' 'ero is only a good idea if y'ain't savin' the man that jumped ya'." She winced at the face that she was looking and talking to a big crater, noticing that after being nearly decimated the large tech priest sounded... human. It was odd, him not having that grating clockwork drone. He actually sounded scared.

The hertasi made sure to make sure her guns remained on her utility belt and scampered over to Egon's back. It took both of her gnarled claws to pry the tough carapace open, and when it was she shoved her furry head into the opening sniffing about. From her experience a cog that's out of line reeks of oil and grease-- having never seen enough of the sunlight to dry up. She noticed that there were a few thieves attempting to close in on her while she was busied and whipped about, snapping at their ankles with a frill-raised snark.

"Jammit," she cursed, her eyes flicking about at the crowd. She really didn't want to be pulling gears, her back turned and hands full when there was so much rat-fodder about.

"Hope yer' not too much of a personal man, Egon. I know th' order's 'dinner an' a movie first-- but trust ol' Tink. I see wot's ailin' ya." Tinker stepped inside of the opening, among the gears and clockwork that sputtered and struggled. She picked out the jam and stuck her paws in, grabbing and yanking hard at his inner circuitry to get to the malfunctioned area. In doing so, the working cogs and gears scraped her paws and threatened to accidentally crush them in their erratic movement.

With an audible grunt along with a few choice profanities, the gear was slammed back into place at the cost of the sharpened ends of her fingernails. "There!!" she barked loudly, at the same time that the booming cry was uttered,

ON THE GROUND!! This was getting ridiculous. These numbskulls were running from and back to their hostages like it was the ocean tide! Tinker'd done some thievery in her time, and she'd been robbed before and robbed them right plumb-back, but this was an absolute clown of a mess-- no offense, jester-boy.

"We're ALREADY ON TH' GROUND SMART ARSES" she retorted to the air, getting just plain cranky over this. She flicked at the gears, hardly even paying attention to the scene now and muttered to Egon, hoping the hero-complex of his was stamped out with that accidental bullet. "The hell ya' doin'? Ain't ya a rattler? These people 'ere, they chose their path and think it's roit' brassy. They's threatenin' yer' innocents, yer' supposedta' protect them innocents. Ya' took a bullet that wasn't even a lethal shot-- Tink ain't blind! She wanted foir' their guardian angel ta' not run away-- which is wot they're plumb doin'!" She snaps the lid back in place and curled up underneath Egon more to comfort the injured tech priest than anything. She can gouge out as many eyes as she can' but jam it all without backup, she'd just lose an eye and have to retire from kicking ass. As if there was any substantial help at all-- no one seems to even REALIZE the party stopped with the flirting and the talking. Were they stealing or party crashing for Tier's sake!?

She kept down low concealed under Egon's mighty hand, peering through her fingers. Both guns were drawn in her absolute cover, and she just waited for the moment when she got another chance like that damn glory shot she tried to take. "Hush 'ere," she mumbled, her golden eyes searching between the robot's fingers looking for a new target. "These bumblin'poor excuses for thieves deserve ta' get wot's comin'. The second one puts another idiot in danger, Ol' Tinker will give em' something substantial-like ta' put in their lazy arsed stomachs-- lead."

Truth be told, she had half a mind to just pump that idiotic flirtatious man and his useless humanized hertasi with a round as well; they were even less useful than the people with their backs turned! Last thing they jammed needed was a rodeo party and for one of the hostages to get lucky. Bah! If only castrating a human with a well placed bullet wasn't illegal!!
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Kata Mochizuki
 Posted: Apr 8 2012, 03:58 PM
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Member

Female Human
Lotus Petal / Trauma Surgeon
The Black Lotus
player: Silkspinner
372 posts





(Tag TNM, Derrick!)

Cold, hard beneath the gloves. Thin...ah. Kata sighed, relieved. If the jester was here to help, this just got a whole lot easier. She squeezed the hand momentarily, then pushed it gently away.

"I can handle the patient, and there are other pre-op procedures I need to execute. What I'm going to have trouble with is the fact that this isn't my operating room. Finding things. I'm going to need knives. As many candidates as you can come up with, but the main objectives are something extremely sharp that can replace a scalpel, something sharp and serrated enough to cut bone, and something extremely small, thin, and flat with no serration at all."

Kata paused, thinking. Ugh. She'd never had to use her field surgery training.

"Rags, lots of them, boiled. Water, boiled. A bottle of the highest proof alcohol you can find. And all the shit swept off of this counter next to me."

Her voice very different now. Sure, crisp, quick, and a touch entitled, as though the possibility of noncompliance didn't even occur to her. She was speaking to the jester as though he were an emergency room nurse...because, frankly, that's precisely what she needed him to be. The dance floor and event weren't her element. That had been in adventure in trying something new, a safe loss of control. But here and now? Everything had its time and place, and here, in her element, this was the time and the place to take charge.

Pause. Then, she she smiled a bit, sidelong, at the direction she guessed the entertainer's face was, from the position of his thumb. "And...thanks." She looked back to Derrick. "See? Everyone wants to help. You'll be fine. And you get to tell everyone that you let a pretty girl roofie you. Now. Drink, and then start counting backward from 100."
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Judas Alexander
 Posted: Apr 11 2012, 11:11 PM
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Member

Male Angel Surge
N/A
Guildless
player: Lily
79 posts





"Leave him for what? Dead?" Sinister eyes could tear the man apart as they burned brightly, though blind from the light. Only the outlines of the man's shadow in against the candles around the room could be made out in his ever gray world. Constantly, he searched for color, dreaming of it, but only ever knowing it on one person.

She wasn't here. Marlowe hadn't come, and a great part of him was thankful though he wanted nothing more than to see her again. But was this truly the painted image he wanted to present of himself? The monster in a mask that was painted like his true self? He was a demon walking among them, and a dragon full of fire. However, in a rare moment his humility would have gotten the better of him had it not been for the way they would feast tonight. How little mouths would not want, nor the silk go without. Tonight...they ruled all of Tot, and with a raise of his hand he signaled the departure quickly ushering them all out.


-End-

(Go on and carry on without Judas! and thanks everyone this was fun!!!)


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Derrick Breckenridge
 Posted: Apr 14 2012, 05:39 AM
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Member

Male Human
Daredevil/Aerobat
Carnival of Amgine
player: Atrice
96 posts





Derrick's eyes widened at the sight of the jester. What in the name of Tier was he doing here? He blinked, suspecting another hallucination. Odd as the masked ringleader's presence was, Derrick was reassured. A bit of home in a strange and unfamiliar place. He flopped a hand in greeting. "My head got busted by a ceiling," he explained. "Sorry."

"Now. Drink, and then start counting backward from 100."

Derrick let out a loud, frustrated groan of disbelief (he was missing out on a gunfight, dammit!), shook his head weakly (once again, in direct defiance of Kata's orders), and knocked back the contents of the shot glass. He scrunched his face and sucked a hissing breath through his teeth. "Bleagh," he said, smacking his lips unhappily.

He was supposed to be doing something, wasn't he? Oh, right. "One hundred," he said. Uhh… "Ninety-nine… um… ninety-eight…" He squinted drowsily. "Ninety-seven… ninety-six… ninety-four… ninety-one… seventysomething… two." He finished, giving up. This concoction was working awfully fast. He hadn't thought a shot glass full of rohypnol capable of knocking out a man in less than a hundred seconds, but then, Derrick was generally content to breeze through life on the certainty that he didn't know much of anything at all.

Still, these were some pretty potent roofies. He grinned up at Kata with all thirty two of his crooked, poorly-maintained teeth. With his droopy eyes, unevenly dilated pupils, and bloody, matted scalp, he looked like he'd just met the losing end of a shotgun barrel. Derrick, on the other hand, probably thought he looked quite fetching. "Can't I," he said, slurring, "just count the thparkles in your eyes?" He showed Kata his best flirtatious simper.

The expression dribbled unattractively off his face as the drug finally took effect.
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The Nothing Man
 Posted: Apr 17 2012, 05:37 AM
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Glorified Hobo Joker

Male Surge
Ringleader, Postmodern Anarchist
Carnival of Amgine
player: AyeeDee
449 posts





Everything happened all at once and all the mute jester could do was witness and be..well rather inappropriately amused by the entire situation. It also did not help that the entire club was in a complete disarray and chaos at the time that it could not help but fill the jester with a twinge of warmth. There was a certain profound poetry with the whole situation, a shapeless art.

Needles to say it was all rather distracting and even with the loudly announced exit of the nameless trouble maker the fires of mass hysteria continued to burn. Panic was on everyone’s lips through screaming and yelling, to their wide spread fearful eyes like swirling and twirling fishbowls… He almost missed the Eclipses words, her demands, her clear and surprisingly controlled instructions and most certainly did not miss her moving his hand away.

It was something of a grocery list. A set of instructions and items she needed, items she needed now and put her trust in the most familiar stranger she knew in a place filled with faceless nameless voices and sounds. It was HE she trusted and as amusing as he was finding it, it was slightly nullified by the fact the persons he was working on was one of his own.. Derrick was what he called himself? Yes.

He did not even hear the daredevil speak to him as he rose and went over the list of items in his own head…rags and water boiled alcohol and-

He snatched the table cloth that raped over the closest counter, the one she must have been referring too and pulled..

*Clatter, Smash, CRACK*

Broken glasses, empty bottles and various foods littered the floor in various disgusting sharp globs on the floor. While audible and rather messy one could not argue with the results, the table was clean and in his hand the table cloth that could and shall soon be many, many boiled rags…. Done in the most audible way possible and if that did not give her the hint that the table was clean, his free hand banging on the tabletop m surface, mixing with frantic ringing of bells hopefully would be….

*Bang, Bang, Bang*



--------------------
There is a red and angry world.
Red things happen there.
The world eats your wife.
And eats your friends.
It eats all the things that make you human.

And it turns you into a monster..
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Kata Mochizuki
 Posted: Apr 17 2012, 04:52 PM
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Member

Female Human
Lotus Petal / Trauma Surgeon
The Black Lotus
player: Silkspinner
372 posts





((Tag Derrick, TNM...with a long unedited mess!))

Although she didn’t know it, Kata had something in common with the nameless jester: chaos was her natural element, and she settled into it as comfortably as a cozy bathrobe. There was a profound difference between them, however: while the Nothing Man respected the tumult for everything it was, embracing it in its purest form, she was a beacon of order in the chaos: an anchor with an inordinate knack for plucking the maelstrom-borne elements from the water and making sense of the storm, all without a single hair rustling out of place.

The method of clearing the table amused her tremendously, earning a smirk amidst her thoughtfulness. Yep. That was the kind of speed they needed, and precisely what she would have done.

As it was, she was moving fast, one precise step after the other, murmuring a checklist to herself occasionally. Cut off Derrick’s shirt, removing it entirely. Then, she grabbed her obi carefully, hoping the hand she used was mostly free of blood, and followed James to the sink. The hellcat—who appeared irritated, but used to it—was scrubbed all over the head with soap and a bit of alcohol, to irritated snorting at the smell. The obi, decorative side in, then wrapped carefully around his muzzle and as much of his head as she could manage. After a few moments’ thought, the braided decoration tied it on.

“All right…not as good as your usual mask, okay, buddy? Try not to open that big mouth of yours or shake it off. If you drool on the patient I’ll make a rug out of you.” James grunted, more pleased than anything as she scratched his ears.

The doctor washed her own arms to the elbows in the same mixture of soap and booze, then turned to the table. Inquired about the status of those rags, and then fished one out on a spoon once directed that way, tossing it over to the table. Wiped it down, took the 90-proof liver-killer in hand, and splashed it straight over the table. Then, with a new rag, wiped it down again.

She checked the tools, the knives. Finally selected several: wrapped them in a cloth, dumped the whole bundle into the boiling water, and moved on.

At some silent command, James hurried over to her side. With practiced teamwork—and a barked request for help keeping the kid’s head steady--Kata and the demon-beast laid the acrobat out on the table. Then, she went to retrieve the knives, pulling out the whole boiled satchel. Selected one, checked its cleanliness and rinsed it in alcohol…and then set to carefully shaving all the hair from the majority of Derrick’s head. Gave the scalp a careful wipe down with a new rag and some alcohol, cleaning it thoroughly.

“Get the hair cleaned up, please…every strand is a potentially serious complication, it all needs to be off the table. Then wipe down the area with alcohol again,” she noted to the Jester. She seemed more intent now, more focused…distracted by the task ahead.

She hesitated a little at slipping off her blindfold…but only a little. This wasn’t a time for insecure vanity. Sightless, unfocussed brown eyes mostly closed almost immediately. Flipped it, brushing some booze over what would be the outside, and tied it carefully over the lower half of her face. “Ugh that’s potent…I’m going to be drunk from the smell alone by the time the procedure’s finished. Is it bad form to make up drinking games for brain surgery?” Pause. “Sorry, that’s probably in poor taste. Heh. But hey…I’m not sure what kind of Screw hands you’ve got? But if you’re going to help with the next part, you’ll need to take off the gloves and sterilize the hands. Cloth absorbs too much shit. The boiling water would be best, but if they’re too hooked into your nerves to make that work, soap and water with an alcohol rinse should work well enough.” She filled a briefly boiled dish with an alcohol solution, dumped all the knives into it, and moved on before he really had a chance to respond. Not that he was talking.

Kata returned to the sink, again, to wash her own hands to the elbow, again. Scrubbing every fingernail, every crease, then drenching them in alcohol after. This took awhile... Dried them on a boiled rag she’d hung on the edge of the scalding pot ahead of time, and held them carefully aloft as she approached the table, James guiding at her heel.

The surgeon’s hands found the patient’s scalp, then, intensely focused. Touching gently, feeling, both above the skin and the exposed skull. James hopped up on the counter beside her, paws folded, gazing at the injury as well. She was silent for a fair stretch. Finally, delicate fingers reached surely for the knives without searching, selecting the one she needed. “Well…now that we’ve made our best shot at converting a filthy kitchen into a functional operating room at a triage pace…” the surgeon smirked beneath the blindfold, head turned slightly to the Nothing Man as her free hand’s fingers continued to play over the kid’s scalp.

“…Not a worry. The brain surgery is going to be the easy part.”

Not that she was taking it lightly. A slow breath after the quip…and Kata nearly sighed in relief at the smoothness of the first incision, thrilled that the knife would work.
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Jonathan Highwind
 Posted: Apr 17 2012, 05:33 PM
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Member

Male Human
Treasure Hunter
Guildless
player: Highwind
127 posts





The two rogues were ready to fight against five assailants.

Jonathan had been in brawls before and Ku'Pah had some seriously vicious claws, but their odds weren't looking too great just now. Well, no time like the present to play dirty. But before Jonathan could start kicking for the thugs' pills, the retreat was called. With sneers and smirks, the thugs quickly made for their exit hole. Jonathan lowered his fists and Ku'Pah snorted, crossing his arms. "Oh sure," the Hertasi hissed, "please, crash our shindig then promise some gratuitous violence and then leave. Yes, quite the party."

Jonathan lunged out before it was too late. His hand clamped over the wrist of that strange, masked girl, despite knowing the risk of her--lover? Brother? Master?--guardian's retaliation. "This isn't the right way," he said simply, shaking his head. If she was telling the truth, then Jonathan was actually on her side. The rift between poor and rich was becoming a chasm, a massive gulf that would, ultimately, lead to actions like today's party crash.

"Don't let your cause fall to your means," he warned.

He let her go, fully expecting to be shot, hit or both. Ku'Pah narrowed his eyes. "Remember what I told you about losing your edge? Well, you almost had the fact kicked into your teeth just now." Jon rolled his eyes. "Besides, I didn't spot that oily human sneak anywhere, either. This whole thing," Ku'Pah gestured around them at the mayhem, "this was a stupid waste of time. Let's just face it, that worm got away."

Jonathan sighed and turned to look at the masked girl. "He'll get his," he murmured to himself. "But these people...I'm not so sure they were the bad guys here." Jonathan frowned, wondering where the money they'd stolen just now would go. Food? He sure hoped so. How long until yonder winged man sees it necessary to start killing the rich? Today there were injuries, robberies. Who knew what would be coming next as the desperate got desperate enough?

The question was, where would Jon stand?


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Thief, Rogue, Treasure Hunter
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The Nothing Man
 Posted: Apr 17 2012, 07:50 PM
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Glorified Hobo Joker

Male Surge
Ringleader, Postmodern Anarchist
Carnival of Amgine
player: AyeeDee
449 posts





(( Oh boy))

While he did not catch the flashing smile crossing her face, he did note her taking notice of exactly what he did and what he wanted her to do. The table was clear and ready for the drugged daredevil and all of this relayed without a voice and to the blind no less. The voiceless man always did hear how miming was a difficult art to pursue… Minus the stabbing temptation to sow his riddled poetry, he did not see what was so hard about it at all.

Two steps down instantly and one more right in his hands. The cloth held limply in his hands, heavy with spilt food and liquid of various substances, drink ability and alcohol levels. This very cloth that once covered the table would very soon be exactly what he….well.. SHE needed. She who would rushed off to do whatever it was she was going to do leaving the masked man to his own tasks she had given him. Or so he thought!

Without so much as another thought, his free gloved hand moved down to a random sharp silver knife that lay on the mixture of various fallen edibles below, retrieving and raising it to his masks hollow eye sockets to observe his prize closer. It was glimmering, sharp and light. This is clearly enough to cut through my own skin so the table cloth would be no different… He thought as he looked it over once more before he noticed a rather amusing tidbit of information on the reflection of the knife. It was blurry sight of a quivering, shaking figure that currently behind him..

The Jester turned rather abrupt and quickly to face who or what stood behind him. This Abrupt action from a rather odd and creepy looking scarecrow figure, mixed with the fact that he was both holding a rather large and sharp looking knife seemed to cause the man behind him to panic even more so then he was doing before. He quickly gasped and jump back before spewing fear laced mutters and words that the nothing man assume was suppose to form sentences.

“ I don’t have any valiblues on me! But please take whatever you want in the kitchen I insist..just…don’t..hurt me!” Yelled the quivering man dressed in white as his hands were raised as if in surrender. Such a random spontaneous act fueled entirely by a now motionless, voiceless Jester, who simply canted his head to the side in response.

Really now? Fear in a silent fool? Heh, interesting. This I can use. He mused to himself as he twirled the knife in his hand, raised it point first at the now visibly terrified chef and then shifted it towards the sink, then the steam powered stove and then back to the chef before finally pointing it at himself and making a non touching slashing motion at his throat with the knife…. The last part while clearly unnecessary certainly did more to amuse him and would perhaps put a little more kick in the chef’s step.

“ You…you….sink?… stove? … water? Boiled water? You want me to boil water?” Asked the terrified chef who’s hands still raised and his flesh now about as pale as his uniform.

The jester nodded and as soon as his head raise back up the chef was already in process, without so much as another peep or complaint. I should use knives more often… He thought as he glanced at the knife once more before lowering it to the table cloth in his other hand and began to quickly cut and slice it into many smaller less then organized pieces. It was a task while it did not take long, it was just long enough for Kata to finish…cleaning her cat and for the jester to raise his head towards the stove and see her start to use the boiling water to boil her ….own cloth.

….

This caused the silent jester to freeze and think of many choice, rude words in his own mind as the knife and torn pieces of cloth dropped to back to the already entirely too cluttered hard floor. An act she most certainly could not see or really hear, even as she finished up with the stove and passed him by back to clean up and shave the patient.

“Get the hair cleaned up, please…every strand is a potentially serious complication, it all needs to be off the table. Then wipe the area down with alcohol again.”

Hair? Shave? Alcohol and complications. More and more he was learning about this woman through simple action and very choice words. She was not only a surgeon but clearly not one of the lower classes, a class that could mostly care less about sterile treatment and shaving of the hair, hair that the fellow carnie will no doubt miss.. The jigsaw puzzle of the eclipse was fitting more and more pieces in the jesters head, and all of this without a single word spoken.

He would obey, though this time a tad more unseen reluctance on Kata’s part. He began to question to himself silently as he began clear the lose hair from the table with a once to be boiled cloth, exactly how much of what she was saying was ACTUALLY directed at him and not simply a verbal reminder to himself. After all maker knows he often reminds himself rather verbally.

It was about the time he finished wiping and sterilizing the hair out of the table when he heard her next request and this one cause him to freeze entirely.

“You’ll need to take off your gloves and sterilize the hands.”

Off the gloves? He looked down to the gloves she was talking about. His own spidery thin hands, hands he was so focused on that he only heard a few more words from anything else she said. Namely screw and cloth seeping up shit….

My gloves… He was hesitant of course and even went so far as to glance around the kitchen to see that only The doctor, the cat and the downed carnie remained left amongst the masses of clutter. My..gloves..my skin.. Take it off?…but no one is left to see..

The Namless man was rather struggling with this concept, this seemingly simple request made by a mysterious blind woman, the eclipse. To take off his skin and expose himself. Did he have a choice? A choice that did not risk him having to find another daredevil? No, no one can see. With slight hesitation he took both of the black gloves off revealing white skin woven with black patchwork cloth over a hand a long thin frail looking hand which bones would look to be made of thin sticks or twigs.


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There is a red and angry world.
Red things happen there.
The world eats your wife.
And eats your friends.
It eats all the things that make you human.

And it turns you into a monster..
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