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Post by Situation on Oct 7, 2009 3:38:01 GMT -5
::Following the events at the Microbial and prior to Luca::
Sometime in the mid-night, a black lumps sloshes ashore near the Garden. He moves, struggles up the beach, then plants itself by the shore to recover. It staggers to its feet, crawling along the sand till it finally stands and heads toward the lights of the Leah just ahead. It sloshes, making wet plopping sounds with each steps, kicking up sand that doesn't cling to its hide. Like a monster from the black depths, it stammers up the stairs leading from the beach to the Garden.
"Oye, b'oody he'l. I k'ow t'is p'ace." It mutters out, though in a whisper, his voice travels further on this still night. He turns around and takes a quick glance back from the ocean whence he came, nothing in the distance. "Rig't on, t'ats qua'ity swimming t'ere. Bravo ta me."
He shuffles up the rest of the stairs and takes a quick seat on a beach overlooking the beach. Since it's night out and place appeared quiet, with the students asleep or studying, he figured it was safe to stay in the open. Not that this place would unwelcome him, but he rather go unnoticed for now, except for this brief repose.
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Post by Situation on Oct 8, 2009 0:37:31 GMT -5
The lone figure rests for a brief time, taking in the smugness that comes with swimming to shore after a fight on and below the water. He rests with his arms outstretched on the bench's back and legs crossed. The night slowly drags on, the moon reflecting off its rippling surface, and all would be copacetic if not for something nearby rudely crashing the night.
There's a loud crack and a blue flash, just beyond the building behind him. Probably coming from one of the courtyards that are encircled by the dorms. He contemplates ignoring it, but that train of thought is quickly dismissed, so he stands and jumps to the roof.
Crouched low, he shuffles along the roof, careful to be as silent as possible and once to the edge, he peers over. There, below him, is a single individual, perhaps a student, with a staff and a nasty tendency spark like an old light-socket. He's a Burmecian as well and appears to be doing some late night practicing - his tail is also on fire. An uproar of surprise and a well placed blow of air quickly snuffs it out. Returning back to the center of the courtyard, his staff glows brightly and *bam* arches of lightning shoot out, spreading like a web, spreading to the shadowy figure, blasting the roof shingles at his feet and throwing him over the side and into the courtyard with a loud thud.
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Post by Situation on Oct 8, 2009 0:45:47 GMT -5
"Oh wow, I killed someone!" Clive exclaims triumphantly, dancing with his arms in the air. "I killed a prowler, I killed a prowler! Hah, see them punish me for protecting the school now!" He boasts as he approaches his prized kill to gloat; sadly he just winds up on the ground in a lock with the prowler atop him, foot pressing against the back of Clive's head and an arm pinned. "AHH I SURRENDER!"
"S'ut up." The prowler states, "I'm no'a prow'er ye git, friend a' Lillith." He explains, still keeping Clive locked. "Hear' sum'noise, came ta' c'eck it. Now, I'gonna 'et ya go an' ye gonna be a'l freind'y, understand."
"YES! YES! Let go!" Clive yelps, as the prowler lets up from his lock and gets off him. Once back on his feet, Clive dusts himself and plops his hat back on. "Then what you doing all sneaky sneaky on the roof... and I recognize that accent, you're from the Crest aren't you! In Lindblum! Man, I thought I was the only one to get out of the festering hells hole!"
Bad idea, as the prowler quickly sucker punches Clive for bad mouthing the Crest. "T'e 'ester'in he'ls ho'e is me home. Say t'at again, an I wi'l gut ye."
*Moan and cough* "Got ya..." He whimpers out. "What... what can I do you for Mr. Prowly and Punchy?" He moans, arms clenching his stomach.
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Post by Situation on Oct 15, 2009 3:25:34 GMT -5
The mysterious stranger snags Clive by the collar forcefully. "S'op w'imper'in, 'isten. A boat cam'ere today, di't? Pic'ed two stude'ts up? W'o were t'ey an w'at does 'Miss Bardi' wa't wit' t'em?" The stranger releases his grip on Clive as he crosses his arms and stares him down.
"Alright, alright, don't need to be so rough." Clive mutters, readjusting himself. "She came for this jerk named Augustus and a mutual friend named Ierys. Apparently she was taking him away for a little vacation... sniveling little weasel... He's probably making the moves on 'my girl'! Gah, makes me sick thinking that four-eyed pinky touching her." He rubs his throat. "Think I just threw up a little in my throat thinking about it."
The stranger finds the name interesting, specially the glasses. "A lad 'amed Augustus wit' g'asses? W'at does he'ook 'ike?"
"Like a total tool, all preppy and self-important." Is Clive's response. "I dunno though, he's about 17 but dresses like he's a thirty-five year old professor."
The stranger's eye looks to Clive curiously, something disturbing ticking away in his brain but without wanting to jump to concussions. "'as t'ere be'n anyt'ing e'se... unusual goin'on 'ere. Anyt'ing at a'l?"
Clive nods. "Yeah... but why you ask?"
"'Cause, laddy. Ye fema'e friend may'be in troub'e."
Clive's eyes are struck with shock and concern, he knew something wasn't right about what happened earlier but he just didn't know what. Yet, what could make this guy give a damn about Ierys. He had little choice but to see where he was going with this, and if he turned out to be a phony, then he'll just zap him and drag him to Shaft. Either way, ought to be fun.
"Ya, follow me." With that Clive leads the stranger inside.
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Post by Situation on Oct 15, 2009 18:22:20 GMT -5
Through the halls, down past the dinning hall and to a bookcase sitting idly against a stairwell is where Clive leads this stranger. "Here, behind this is a odd little basement filled with two very creepy creatures. A wolf... thing and some old hag. Apparently left by Natalia to rot. If there's something going on here, its probably because of those two... well, good-luc!"
The stranger snags Clive by the tail before he could depart quickly. "No'qui'e, lad." He pulls Clive back to him. "Ye com'in wit'me."
"Oh no no no!" Clive exclaims, waving his arms. "Not going to happen, went down there once and they tried to eat me, I am not a midnight snack, not now not ever!" He stands definitely before the one-eyed stranger, arms crossed.
"O'ya? If ye don' I'll be sure ta'tel' t'at lass ye 'ike so muc' how ye c'ickened out."
"Oh... you... fine..." With quiet frustration and defeat, Clive reopens the secret stairs, revealing a dark path. He raises his staff, letting the blue light illuminate the path down. "You first."
Releasing his tail, the stranger pats Clive on the back with a devilish smile. "Knew ye would'in 'et me down." He walks past Clive, snagging his shirt in his hand, dragging him inside with him before the hidden door slides close.
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Post by Situation on Oct 16, 2009 2:11:46 GMT -5
s, Clive's dim illumination via his staff to be a long corridor of mortar brick. But the further they go, the less and less man made it appears. They travel to the end of the corridor and then to a winding staircase even longer than the hall was. There's no railing, so they have to tread carefully lest they topple over into whatever awaits below. When at last they reach the bottom, it's now too dark to see anything even with the staff. But the strangers keen nose allows him to pick up the scent of oil and a glance next to him shows a canal that lines the room for lighting.
Clive ignites the flames with a spark and they travel all along the walls of the cavernous basement to reveal strange markings all along the stone walls, the most predominant being a slitted eye with spiked wings on either side, mounted on the back wall and lit from behind by a torch. In the center of the room is what appears to be a stage or altar of some kind, a large platform in the center of the room with stone steps that lead to a smaller platform.
Out from a dark corner, two creatures emerge, the Hag and Wolf. The one in the front is a slight figure that could presumed to be female, but nearly all human semblance in her face now visible as she pulls down her hood is replaced by reptilian scales and slitted nostrils. Her head angles from side to side much like a snake, and her long fingers don't move naturally, looking to be made of muscle rather than bone. The figure behind her is much larger and hunched over her. They can't see his face, but a fanged muzzle protrudes from under its hood.
Hag: Look who returns, a prodigal son. And who is the one-eye?
Oliver looks over to Clive with a roll in his eyes. "T'is t'e ones ye me'tioned?"
Clive responds with a nod, sliding behind the stranger sheepishly, head peaking over head shoulder at the Hag and Wolf.
Wolf: You bring a gift of appeasement?
The Wolf bobs over to the stranger, sniff and inspecting with his yellow eyes. Snapping and slobbering from his hungry jaws with gnarled rotted teeth like a hungry... wolf.
The stranger however, snaps at the Wolf's muzzle with a hand, locking it shut. "Ye gett'in me a'l wet wit' t'at s'ober. I'm 'ere for informa'ion, ye don'give it ta me, I'll rip off ye furry jibb'y bits an stick em up t'at hole und'er ye tail." He looks to the Hag next, "T'en I'll sti'k 'is head up ye own arse. T'en I get Lillit' down here." He takes the Wolf's muzzle and jerks him around. "Good, now t'en, w'o ye work'in for?"
Hag: The Contractor, the Witch of St-
The Hag is cut off by the stranger demanding a real answer, explain he already knows that, but who they really working for. Who else are they in pact with, the truth between the lines - if truth can be conferred from these demons.
Hag: A dead man from the sea.
"E'oug' ridd'es, ye don'give me'a straig't a'swer, I'm gonna s'art s'oven muzz'es up holes." He clamps his hand harder on the squirming Wolf, illicitining a whimper.
Hag: The Harvester
She hisses out with a shrill voice, making the skittish Clive to duck behind the cover of the stranger.
Hag: August Krasnow
The name makes the stranger's eyes grow wide with surprise. His heart palpitates and his grip slips, letting the wolf wiggle free and jump back, covering its face. "Hag, ye bet'er not be yank'in me tail..."
Wolf: She speaks truths; The Tourniquet man, Harvester, August Krasnow. He went into pact with us during his service with the Witch of Storms, his soul for immortality.
"We'l t'at certian'y is interes'in news."
Clive, a new found bravery overcoming him, emerges from behind the stranger. "If AJ is August... then Ireys is in trouble."
"Aye lad, wit' Yersinia and August toget'er... is t'e sum of all me fears..."
"You say something?" Clive inquires to the Stranger's quiet aside.
"Ya, we go' one hel'a prob'em." He looks to the Hag and Wolf with that single eye, a fire of determination and bravado burning inside it's platinum blue light. "Le's' make a deal?"
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Post by Situation on Oct 17, 2009 0:09:28 GMT -5
"So', is sett'ed t'en?" The stranger mentions with crossed arms and a suspicious furrowed brow. "In exc'ange ye grant us passage to w'ere's we need ta go."
Hag: Yes... for that simple return.
Wolf: Where is it that your heart desires to travel?
"I honestly can't believe you're dealing with- with those things." Clive spits out in disgust, "It's sicking. I mean, I hate August as much as the next, and I am beyond pissed he's been right under my nose like this... ugh I even borrowed his books." He shudders. "Glad I kept him constantly pissed." He chuckles. "So worth it. But seriously?"
"Quiet, ye, be'ore I tape ye muzzle s'ut." He barks back. "Hag, Need ta go ta Spira. Me frie'd here is go'in ta Esthar."
"Esthar!? What the hell for?" Clive exclaims. "'Cause, laddy, t'ats w'ere Sinia's corporate HQ is. Need ye ta watc'it, te'l me w'en t'ey all arrive." "Great, surveillance. Also get the dull jobs." "Quit ye w'inin. Ye get ya action if ye stop be'in such a comp'ete git." Clive grumbles and remains quiet.
The Hag and Wolf prep an incantation, summoning a vortex.
Hag: Esthar first, then Spira.
Wolf: Quickly one-eye and git.
Clive growls as he grudgingly approuches. "I swear, stranger, if this doesn't work. I am so zapping your ass."
"S'ut it, an 'ake t'is." The stranger tosses Clive a palm mirror. "Is'a communica'er, jus'say me name an' ye'll get me."
"Really, and what is your name Mr. Prowly?" Clive inquires with a questioning raised eye.
"Jus ca'l me 'Ollie'."
"Ollie it is, well, I'll go be a furry recording sphere for you. Later." With that Clive jumps through the portal.
"If ye tric' me." Ollie explains to the Hag and Wolf. "I come bac' wit' Lillith."
The two snort as Ollie jumps through the portal to Spira in his search for help.
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