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Post by Oliver on May 28, 2009 3:05:35 GMT -5
"Oliver Tipp, 24601, Red Dragoon." He states again, this time more force full and continues to repeat these same words over and over again, all the while keeping his eyes firming trained to Alicia.
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Post by Book of the Twilight on May 28, 2009 3:10:05 GMT -5
(OOC: Weren't soldiers trained to do something like this in Vietnam in case of capture?)
::Alicia pulls a pen from her front pocket and scribbles something on the file::
Astaroth: Interesting. But you see, there are also things I know that aren't in this file.
::She closes the folder and places it on the table so she can lean closer to him::
Astaroth: For instance, that the Betrayer's son has fallen for the Witch's pretty little girl. What a perfectly morbid little pair.
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Post by Oliver on May 28, 2009 3:16:22 GMT -5
((It's still used today.))
Oliver snorts and snarls, blaring his teeth with a curl of his lip, but continues to mutter the same phrase over and over again. "Oliver Tipp, 24601, Red Dragoon."
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Post by Book of the Twilight on May 28, 2009 3:20:28 GMT -5
::Alicia's smile peels her blood red lips from her teeth as she circles the table to get by his ear::
Astaroth: Where did you leave her again? You had to have hidden her somewhere. She didn't look like she could get far with that injury. All alone in that dark alley. How sad it would be if she ended up like poor little Emily Tipp.
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Post by Oliver on May 28, 2009 3:33:16 GMT -5
Oliver continues to growl, bellowing deep inside him. He rumbles like an animal as Alicia speaks those poisoning words. He starts to hyperventilate and this is when Alicia realizes she just made a mistake by getting that close to Oliver.
He snaps his head towards her and leaps at her face with a wide open maw, his teeth blared, and like a bear-trap, snap over over face. He rips at her nose, eyes and lips with those dagger teeth of his. He slips in the struggle, falling over with the chair still attached firming to his cuffs. He squirms on the ground, making a terrible rackets as he pulls against his restraints and continues to snap towards Alicia with violent, feral eyes, no more a beast.
The Regent Guard immediately comes to her aid, butting Oliver in the gut and side of the head with his rifle and pulling Alicia away from the prisoner.
The two hits knock Oliver back into his senses, he remains quiet for a moment, casually licking at the blood on his lips and mouth then begins to repeat his phrase once more. "Oliver Tipp, 24601, Red Dragoon..."
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Post by Book of the Twilight on May 28, 2009 3:46:02 GMT -5
::Alicia pushes herself up, holding a hand to her face and uses her other arm to push the guard away::
Astaroth: Get out.
Guard: But miss, you need
Astaroth: Just... get... OUT! And don't come back. Tell the ones at the mirror to leave too.
::The guard leaves quickly. Alicia gets back to her feet, her back still to Oliver::
Astaroth: Now is that any way to treat a lady?
::She turns her head slowly, showing the damage to her face. The gashes around her eyes make them stand out as two great orbs, and her lips have almost entirely been ripped off to expose her jawline. But more disturbing is the total lack of blood. She raises her nail to her mouth where she licks it and runs it over each wound in turn. The skin she touches re-laces itself, erasing any evidence of injury besides her glasses still being snapped in half. She reaches down and hoists his seat back into proper position::
Astaroth: I think turn about's fair play, don't you?
::She places the same nail on the side of his cheek, sliding it along his face until he can feel his own blood dripping down the side. There's a burn that accompanies the cut, like her touch is making his blood boil and scald his skin::
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Post by Oliver on May 28, 2009 3:55:58 GMT -5
Oliver begins to hyperventilate, gritting his teeth as Alicia's nail digs into his skin and burns. She finds his skin to be tough to slice, like thick hide, it resists.
"So, it'as my own b'ood I taste..." He grunts out, jerking away from the burn that he cannot flee from. "Oliverrrrr Gah! Tipp! 24601." He briskly spills out. "Red Dragoon-" He turns and tries to snap at the finger. "W'at are ye!?"
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Post by Book of the Twilight on May 28, 2009 4:04:50 GMT -5
Astaroth: Awe, didn't your pretty little girlfriend tell you what she found out? We're the Old Villains. We're the things that go bump in the night and see your nightmares. We are what once had all of Gaia united out of terror, cheering on their heroes to distract them from tearing each other apart with their petty little squabbles. A necessary evil you might say.
::She turns her back to him so she can laugh with her cruel shrill tone::
Astaroth: What, you thought the Regent had the power? Maybe there was a time when it was a king who led his people and was more than a puppet for forces behind the throne. But that world is fading as quickly as your future.
::She turns back to him::
Astaroth: But enough games. I think you know why you're here, why we haven't killed you yet.
::She leans over the table again, forcing him to look her in the eye::
Astaroth: Where's that handy little device you've been tinkering with?
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Post by Oliver on May 28, 2009 4:10:10 GMT -5
After her speech, Oliver appears even more determined then ever to remain stead-fast and unwavering. Gritting the pain in his cheek, he mutters out. "Oliver Tipp, 24601, Red Dragoon." Once more. "Oliver Tipp, 24601, Red Dragoon." Repeating this phrase over, and over again, refusing to let her get the better of him again.
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Post by Book of the Twilight on May 28, 2009 4:17:27 GMT -5
::Alicia's expression is one of boredom as she stares idly at her fingernails::
Astaroth: Would it help if I were to tell you that we want The Regent dead as much as you do? Perhaps we can help each other Oliver. That is, if you feel obliged to making a deal with the devil, so to speak. Is that what you were planning to do with it? Go on, you can tell me.
::Despite her calm, he can see her fingers tense as her patience wears thin::
Astaroth: Tell me about Le Enfante.
(OOC: I hope I'm spelling that right. I can't get an accent mark on my keyboard)
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Post by Oliver on May 28, 2009 4:26:34 GMT -5
"Oliver Tipp, 24601, Red Dragoon."
He nervously nipples his lip when she mentions "Le Enfant", his eyes flutter as he argues with himself over how much could they possibly know. He looks to her, with a strange resolve, and sticks his tongue out and laughs to himself as he once again begins to chant his phrase.
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Post by Book of the Twilight on May 28, 2009 11:47:10 GMT -5
Astaroth: Oh yes, we know about that lovely little device. What we don't know is what the "Commitstar" ordered you to do with it.
::She cracks her knuckles as he continues to chant his identification::
Astaroth: You're spirited, and strong-willed. I like that. But you're mistaken if you think that's going to save you here.
::She presses her nail into the hollow of his shoulder, working over the nerves in it, making them ache and scream at him::
Astaroth: Do we understand each other?
::When she releases him, she moves to the door and presses the button to the intercom::
Astaroth: Alright, pack it up.
::The Guard returns, this time with a syringe in hand. He jams the needle into Oliver's arm where the pain immedieately subsides, thankfully, but at the cost of his senses and motor skills. The Guard seems surprised at Alcia's lack of injuries, but she waves him away::
Astaroth: Take him below to solitary. We'll see how well he holds up when Lieutenant Maxwell returns.
::Oliver sees her wave to him as she gets smaller. Everything's too foggy for him to realize that the guard is carrying him over his shoulder away from her. Her wicked smile is the last thing that's clear before everything goes black::
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Post by Nu on May 28, 2009 12:55:47 GMT -5
::As they leave and take Oliver with them, she remains behind as Kamikaze appears behind her:: it seems he'll be a tough nut to crack. He though spoke to her.
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Post by Book of the Twilight on May 28, 2009 12:57:57 GMT -5
Astaroth: But he will. They all crack in the end. And I want this through as quickly as possible.
::Her thoughts drift back to the small girl who at this moment is with her master at the Regent's palace::
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Post by Nu on May 28, 2009 13:00:27 GMT -5
Understood. ::He shifts to his Maxwell disguise before heading to the door:: "Wonder how Oliver is going to react to seeing me again?" ::He turns to her:: "If you're that worried about Yami, go. I got things under control here."
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Post by Book of the Twilight on May 28, 2009 13:05:22 GMT -5
Astaroth: How did you...
::She scowls at her colleague::
Astaroth: Never mind. Leave him for now. Let him be alone with his despair in his cell for awhile. It'll make things easier. There's something else I want you to do.
::She closes the door::
Astaroth: And this is one of those that stays off the record. I want you to find Iole Blakeney.
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Post by Nu on May 28, 2009 13:07:08 GMT -5
"Why her?" he asked, now intrested in what she had to say.
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Post by Book of the Twilight on May 28, 2009 13:17:23 GMT -5
Astaroth: I wonder how Dragoon 24601 would fare if it were her being tortured instead.
::She grins to keep up her act. She knows very well that Kamikaze wouldn't be able to capture Iole. He's never seen her fight. If the two of them were to battle, it would definitely escalate to kill or be killed. He's a skilled fighter, but his tactics are more suited for quick precise strikes, and Iole could make herself bullet proof. His ability to find pressure points and subdue limbs would be of no use against a Draconian as powerful as her. He would have to kill her. And then Yami would be safe::
Maybe I'll get lucky and they'll both kill each other.
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Post by Nu on May 28, 2009 13:26:51 GMT -5
Something's up. He thought. Why would she want me to capture someone when she could do it herself. ::He nods before walking out the door:: Unless this 'Iole' girl is someone Astaroth cannot take on. ::He notices no one's around before shifting to his true form and dissapearing::
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Post by Oliver on May 28, 2009 15:45:37 GMT -5
-Inside the dark hole of a cell-
He's tossed inside and the door closed shut with a loud bang that jars Oliver from his drug induced haze. His head swimming, Oliver jumps to the door and bangs loudly on it.
"Hey, t'at crap don't wor'on me too long. How about ye come ba'k here an' give me a booster!"
Obviously fruitless, he walks to the back of his cell and plops down in an Indian sit. Elbows resting on his knees, arms propping his head up. "Damn... t'is bollocks."
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