ɪʀᴏɴᴡᴏᴏᴅ ᴇᴍᴘᴇʀᴏʀ ᴇsʜᴀɪ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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tushanshu_logs2013-01-19 06:07 pm
ironwood) wrote in tushanshu_logs2013-01-19 06:07 pm
Entry tags:
- post: npc,
- thread: tim drake,
- thread: zatanna zatara,
- † agent north dakota,
- † aisha al-fadhil,
- † albel nox,
- † annabeth chase,
- † ariadne,
- † arthur,
- † astrid farnsworth (alt),
- † brandon sharpe,
- † bruce wayne,
- † bucky barnes,
- † cassandra cain,
- † clark kent,
- † damian wayne,
- † dick grayson,
- † dorian gray,
- † elena fisher,
- † elizabeth sherman,
- † finnick odair,
- † inara serra,
- † jack frost,
- † jane shepard,
- † jason todd,
- † kara thrace,
- † kara zor-el,
- † katniss everdeen,
- † kon-el,
- † kyle rayner,
- † leonardo (2003),
- † lina inverse,
- † logan,
- † logan howlett,
- † martris drayke,
- † natasha romanoff,
- † nathan drake,
- † olivia dunham,
- † peeta mellark,
- † pepper potts (mcu),
- † raphael (2003),
- † raylan givens,
- † rikki barnes,
- † santo vaccarro,
- † sir mandorallen,
- † steve rogers,
- † terrance ward,
- † tommy shepherd,
- † victor borkowski
Event | Turtle Dive | January 20 - 23 | Underwater zombies crave your briiiiiines
Characters: Any and all PCs
Date: January 20th - 23rd
Location: All Sectors
Situation: Tu Vishan continues swimming along the ocean floor after his monumental dive, but it turns out there are a whole bunch of undead that want in on the party!
Warnings/Rating: Underwater situations, violence, potential gore; to be updated as noted.
>See the comments of this post for various situations and areas available for tagging.
>Each header will be set for a date and/or area.
>Feel free to start your own header for specific situations.
>The Palace subplot will be run in a separate log.
>Refer to the two OOC posts for further details. 01 | 02
Date: January 20th - 23rd
Location: All Sectors
Situation: Tu Vishan continues swimming along the ocean floor after his monumental dive, but it turns out there are a whole bunch of undead that want in on the party!
Warnings/Rating: Underwater situations, violence, potential gore; to be updated as noted.
>See the comments of this post for various situations and areas available for tagging.
>Each header will be set for a date and/or area.
>Feel free to start your own header for specific situations.
>The Palace subplot will be run in a separate log.
>Refer to the two OOC posts for further details. 01 | 02
Albel Nox | Fire Sector | OTA
Never before had he seen any beast so swift on foot. Counteracting these advantages, they still lacked the clairvoyance present in living beings. No telling of the destruction that may fall on the occasion that the jiangshi adapt to battle tactic. He’d have both feet in the grave before someone could say 'zombies'.
For now, Albel was keen on taking total advantage of what little leverages were available, primarily by maintaining a constant stretch between himself and the brutes. Most strikes — be they sword or claw — either provided a momentary rupture through the throng or scoured the ground clean of shale and debris further behind them.]
Die. [He presses forward with an upward stroke, sending a spiraling column of pressure to tear through the distance created between him and two particular curs. The nature of the situation meant that most of his time was spent skipping backwards out of reach, scoring what he could with swings meant to severe bodies into inanimate segments, and setting fire to said segments that refused to say still.
In that order. Despite his efforts, he was fighting on the defensive.]
no subject
That in and of itself does not move her. People who fight foolish battles deserve to lose them. She has seen it happen time and again. In Afghanistan, and with Clay.
Her expression transmutes into a snarl, teeth bared, and she pulls a grenade from her belt, pops the pin, keeps her fingers curled around the safety lever.]
You. Move away.
[She doesn't yell, but her voice is certainly pitched to carry and could be directed to no other.]
no subject
Worms, always meddling in his business. And her ‘command’? It was almost obliquely degrading.
To make matter worse, it seems that his luck was erring on the side of catastrophic. He’d seen the outcomes of offworlder projectiles much like the ones she held in her hand. Obviously, this intruder planned on an easy fight — ‘honor is the morality of superior men’ was surely an aphorism lost in time. He’d choose a sword over these lazy contrivances any day.
Even so, Albel Nox had no intention of having his body burst like a distended balloon. Prompted by necessity and instinct more so than a desire to comply, he pivots over to one side, giving barely enough purchase for the intruder to exploit the brief opening. ]
Keep your distance, [ Well, if she wasn’t yelling, he'd be more than happy to take that empty slot. Albel spits, gesturing to place atop the fire escape with a clawed hand, providing an exemplary definition of livid. ] This battle is my own!
no subject
This battle belongs to anyone strong enough to make it their own.
['you idiot'. And having had her say, she pulls out her knife and gets to work. She's died once already, the thought of doing so again bothers her little.]
no subject
There were many things in this world that pissed Albel off. Passive people. Ignorant people. Hell, people in general. But imposed impasses were something he had no use for. He stalks forward, flesh hand to his brow, squinting with a cold fury at the double staccato of footsteps a few odd meters ahead.
Two could play at this game. Lowering himself soundly into a half kneel, he sends a wake of shockwaves rippling through the crimson heap of limbs, focal point aimed towards Aisha and her aggressors. What was that about bitterness again? ]
no subject
No doubt the attack was aimed at her. So she levers her bowie into the ribcage of the nearest zombie who so thoughtfully bore the brunt of that attack, cracks the sternum open and rips its heart out with her bare hands. It's a trick she's always favoured, one she used to ingratiate herself to the lords of the Opium trails.
These hearts are still and do not beat, thick and clotted with rot and decay as they are. But it is no less a victory to pulp it between her fingers, and she keeps her eyes - and a vicious smile - trained on Albel as she does it.
You are damned right it's a challenge.]
no subject
That was not a product of anything sort of lethal exposure. Standard soldiers were never so methodical with singular slaughter. Seasoned killers, however, were a different breed of deadly, a breed that was accustomed to spectacles of overkill — usually to belay a certain message. He would know.
There was no doubt in his mind. And lo and behold did Albel Nox smile. ]
Hoo, quite a scare! And just what amuses you so, woman?
[ He steps forward, cleansing his sword free of gore with an ominous hiss of steel against the hilt of his scabbard. There was one to his left. Albel charges past, his claw lacerating through the festering underbelly of his enemy. Not one to be out-done, he tore the corded muscle and heaved the rest, where it tumbled along boneless like a rag doll before lurching backward on its legs, perforated abdomen and all. ]
To think you razed these creatures to pieces just for my comfort. [ He flings the entrails, brutally strewn about like molten twine, as if affronted with dust. At Aisha's general direction. ] You overstep yourself.
no subject
[As if flinging gore in her general direction would offend her, Albel. She once castrated a man and kept the pieces as a souvenir. To say nothing of the ears she strung about her neck in those early days of the Soviet-Afghan war. It takes an average of seven pounds of pressure to rip off a human ear. A lesson she learned quite well.
The area temporarily cleared of anything lethal besides they two, she diverts her attention to him. A boy, really. Ten years her junior at least. But skilled enough. As she was at that age.]
And if you presume that was for your comfort, you are sorely mistaken. What I choose to do and when I choose to do it is for no one's benefit but mine, boy.
no subject
[ His tone speaks of both impartiality and deceptive nonchalance, but his posture — stiff, claw flexed at his side — speaks of serious restless. Albel files her former statement away for... future consideration. Just the same, he had Certain Opinions about people who pried into foreign engagements by personal right in lieu of prior consent.
Fayt. Cliff. Maria. Every offworlder he's ever had the displeasure of encountering, really.
He didn't get his rank by relying on the aid of others, and he never determined his victories by simply seeing if his wins were neutralized by his assistance. ]
... tw for... gore? hideousness? aisha??? all these things are valid things.
[The sentence is half a snarl, a gauntlet spoken rather than thrown. She does not care for the conventions of his people, whatever they might be, any more than she cared for keeping the faith with her mother's religion.]
But if we are speaking for the consequences of actions taken, I have sewn live snakes into the bellies of breathing men for less than what you've said to me here.
no subject
[ He would sooner shatter it than allow that to become his reality.
Albel observes her with a blossoming scowl of his own, with no viable touch of fear. Interesting to him, that she spoke of the same cruelties he would have rigorously meted out himself. He wanted little more than his victory and continued survival... but it seems he's underestimated. ]
Is this supposed to intimidate me? Think again, woman.
no subject
[She takes several steps towards him and her tone is a very low purr when she speaks again.]
It is more fun that way.
no subject
A very small part of him wondered how she thought those two terms differed. It might come in handy in the future, after all. ]
Bah, [ For all it's worth, he has the grace to look very sedated. ] Don't be a fool. They are one in the same.
no subject
[He can look as sedate as he pleases, she's still purring her words like a particularly dangerous cat.]
no subject
Intention; is that what you call it...
[ Alright. Maybe 'competition' was understating the matter to an obscene level. ]
Heh — things I feel to be irrelevant.
[ In this particular instance, 'irrelevant' was Albel's way of saying 'That doesn't apply to me, unless you can produce evidence proving otherwise'. ]
no subject
[But she steps in nice and close to say that, for the express point of whispering it in his ear.]
no subject
There's a tense due in part to the sudden proximity, but only just. Certainly all but insubstantial as far as the sense of touch was concerned. His expression is a timeless sort, except that in this case, the cat had not only eaten the canary, it had seasoned and marinated it first. By way of reply, his claw snakes forward to grip her arm. He digs with no sense of charity and speaks low. ]
And just who are you? [ Sometimes, the trouble with Albel's violent and ungracious demeanor was that he tended to be violent and ungracious. Nevertheless, his tone holds equal parts demand, curiosity, and challenge — whatever the present topic was, it was simply a prelude to something with a skeleton, indeterminate.
Somewhere, Count Woltar was dropping words of marooned wisdom. Untimely, to entertain new guests when your own house was in danger of collapsing. ]
no subject
[If he's causing pain - and he is, in the remotest sense of the word - it does not show on her face or in her demeanour. She has survived so much more than this pitiful child can hope to inflict upon her, no matter his strengths or skills.
In fact, it only gives her cause to broaden her smile.]
no subject
Suffice to say, no Aquarian soldier could curtail their restraint to put up with this without reciprocation. A ghost of a smile crosses Albel's face, even as he flexes the metal fingers of his claw. He had an unhealthy appreciation for experience, and there was no telling what kind of knowledge you might accumulate with one who shrugged trouble.
A less-refined individual would have shown less restraint to cackle. ]
You're no warrior.
no subject
too bad.]
No. I am a killer. A survivor. Warriors concern themselves with propriety and honour. Both are irrelevant when you are on a true killing field. I learned of war as a child, slitting throats of those who begged or crawled. I wore their ears as [her words drop to a quiet hiss, just beside his ear.] trophies.
[She reaches up to cup his cheek.]
I am no warrior. But I have murdered many. Would you like to be added to my tally, boy?
no subject
But he simply doesn't care. Not anymore. Honor and propriety were also irrelevant against beings from an alternate universe, possessing the power and knowledge to create and destroy entire galaxies. It was irrelevant against systems that knew nothing of exhaustion or pain, systems that brandished energy levels in excess of what the known physical laws of the universe should permit.
And he still would be ill-advised to cast aside the warrior spirit that has been forged for him. It was a combination of killer and warrior that had unanimously branded him, to both ally and enemy alike, as the strongest warrior alive. And she talks of a true killing field. As long as he was in possession of the Scourge, they would never be mutually exclusive. ]
Bah. [ Albel's jaw eases against the folded fingers of the woman's hand, settling into a deceptively lazy pose, red eyes narrowing. It is coupled with a silent awareness, and maybe just a hint of healthy overestimation, towards the proximity of said fingers and his own ear... ]
Do you believe, [ His organic hand goes to the leather-covered hilt of her sword, stopping just short of tearing it free from its sheath but close enough that a draw might still be an option. ] that they are incompatible? That would be too simple, even for the likes of a killer.
no subject
[She cocks her head. The gesture is predatory, like a wolf.]
Or the killer.
[She's decided she likes him, and she slides her hand away from his jaw, down to his shoulder and against his chest.]
Now unhand me, or I'll create unpleasant complications for the both of us.
[Implication being: she really does not give a damn if taking him down takes her along as well.]
no subject
[ And almost...
...refreshing, to brush with someone who had a sharpness to them. It had been a long time, too long, since he had encountered worthy sport.
With a quick jerk, he shoves Aisha back. He yanks her claws free of her arm, flexing them out of habitual flak, before stepping away and sheathing his weapon. ]
Don't expect me to let your little interference slip through my memory. I wouldn't be likely to forget your name, woman.
no subject
[She reaches her free hand to her arm where he'd bloodied it with his claws, swipes a finger through the ribbons of blood and licks it clean. And with a smirk that's all edges, she turns her back on him (half a haunt, in its own tongue) and leaves. Somewhere out there there's something else to be killed, and she aims to find it.]