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Post by Situation on Jan 11, 2009 17:58:02 GMT -5
Oliver takes staggering steps out of the alley and onto the street. "Ollie..." comes a choked cry for help. "Help me..."
A small distance off, Iole crawls on the ground, holding her shoulder which has been sliced open. Standing above her is none other than August. He seems surprised when he sees the boy. "Oliver my boy, what a surprise... This isn't what it looks like." He tries to look as good natured as ever, but even if he could hide the blood stained dagger he's holding completely, he can't hide the bright red blood on his shirt.
"Ollie..." Iole moans. "He did this to me. Run... get out of here."
"Come now Oliver. Surely you don't believe her. Who are you going to believe? Some girl you barely know, or the man who's cared for your home?"
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Post by Oliver on Jan 12, 2009 2:56:15 GMT -5
"Tis aint happin!" Oliver cries out as he shuts his eyes hard, huddling up close to himself. His body quivers and shakes, muscles twitching and moving on their own accord.
"Oliver. This isn't what it looks like." Says August, in that cold and calm monotone voice. "I came upon the one who did this to her, I scared them off. I was trying to help; shes in shock, she doesn't know what is happening. Please Oliver, don't get any ill thoughts."
"No... no..." Mutters Oliver in a cry of fear.
August steps over Iole's dying body, his footsteps creating a malicious crunching sound with each step. "Oliver, would I lie? I'm your friend, I have always been there for you."
"Don'tak anoter step!" Screams Oliver at the top of his lungs, like a wailing banshee he shrieks. His eyes ablaze with a primitive urge, burning from the prolific scent of fresh blood and meat. He shakes his head, trying to force the urge out of him; tossing the shiv to the ground. "No, tis not real. Mus foocus."
"Come here Oliver, let me make it all better." August takes another step closer to Oliver, a hand reaching out to take the boy.
Oliver growls deep and lowly, his eyes resonating with a deep silver hue. His arms shaking violently, as if their going to shatter themselves under his strain. His flicks both his hands at his sides, protracting claws that once laid dormant. They are long,specially for his tiny hands, and sharp from little use. Claws spring forth into the snow from his foot paws as well, clenching to the ground, as he doubles over, trying to restrain himself. "Don.. do tis ta me... Stoppp..." He snarls out in tears, his teeth clenching hard, fangs blared, nostrils flaring as he hyperventilates.
"Come here boy!" August exclaims with power and command as he lunges for the boy.
"NOO!" Oliver, seemingly unable to control himself anymore sweeps his right clawed hand at August, aiming to slice his menacing arm off.
((Your turn))
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Post by Iole on Jan 12, 2009 13:13:10 GMT -5
(OOC: And now for the Coupe de Grace. Did I spell that right? My spell check is down)
::Oliver's claws meet flesh and he can hear a definitive rip as a shirt is sliced open. At long last the nightmarish streets of Lindblum are swept away, leaving Oliver back in the midst of the riots, where fires rage all over the city. And in front of him, holding the side of her stomach where her scar has re-opened, is Iole. Blood runs down her fingers in a cascade::
Ol... Ollie?
::She falls to her knees, and somewhere nearby, Oliver can hear the mad cackling of a woman who exclaims gleefully as Iole falls and hits the pavement::
??: You lose!
(OOC: Setting up a new thread. For Iole's version of what just happened, check out her Labyrinth)
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