Sigismund
Experienced Novice
My kingdom of Doma is very quiet now.
Posts: 92
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Post by Sigismund on Nov 4, 2011 0:03:41 GMT -5
::Alicia's eyes narrowed at Kamikaze::
Alicia: If it didn't matter to him he wouldn't be spending so much time with those two. Think of it from another angle. Perhaps he didn't need to ask because he already knows.
::Meanwhile in the Throne Room, Sigismund very pointedly downed the rest of the tea in the cup that had been presented to him::
That seems like a logical course. But why ask my permission when you could just sniff her out with those demons you summoned in Tzen.
::The Count flicked his wrist, hurling the teacup to the ground with a crash, splintering it into a thousand shards that blossomed from their landing and slid along the floor like flakes of snow::
Do you think I am a fool Doctor? Do you think I invite wolves such as yourself into my domain to eat at my table without discovering who they are first? Or more to the point, what they can do?
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August Krasnow
Determined Individual
"Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici."
Posts: 291
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Post by August Krasnow on Nov 4, 2011 0:19:59 GMT -5
August side stepped the thrown cup, watching it soar through the air and land near his feet. He adjust his glasses and wipes the few specks of tea that splattered him. He looked back up to the Count, eerily calm.
"Touchy, aren't we, Count? Did you enjoy the tea at least?" He finished his own cup, then since the count felt his china was not worth saving, threw his own cup over his shoulder, letting it shatter behind him. Why stand around awkwardly. "As I've explained, Tricuetical has it's hands in many cookie jars. Tragic this is something that will come between us, but between that and the Dragonsbane in our tea. I couldn't see this contract lasting very much longer. Also, my employer has gone missing so, you could say I'm working freelance once again."
August quickly jerks his jaw, breaking a capsule hidden between his gums and teeth, releasing a anti-poison. He shrugged, as if to say, 'sorry'.
"Oh, before I go get Iole and thusly that little artifact in the catacombs here, I should let you know that those 'demons' of mine have the city surrounded and already have devoured your city guard and they should be making their way through your military barracks as well. Pity, they were quite good soldiers. Well," He clapped his hands and begun to step back. "No hard feelings, it's just politics." He smiled a devils smile and gingerly begun to back step out of the throne room. As he does, two large and ghastly silhouettes cast long dark shadows from beyond the doorway into the thrown room. Those of vile creatures with long faces and claws.
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Post by Nu on Nov 4, 2011 0:43:42 GMT -5
::Both Alicia and Kamikaze quickly look to the door as the roars of demons are heard before two of them crash through the door::
Kamikaze: ::Pulls out some of his senbons:: They belong to any of you?
Alicia: Not of ours. ::She shifts back to her true appearance, drawing her scythe:: These are man made, we use those from the demon realm. Only one person we know used man-made monsters.
Kamikaze: August. I should of known... ::Ducks as one of them tries to pounce, only to miss and crash onto the bed. He then moves quickly as Astaroth moves fast, slicing the legs out from under the second beast. Before the first one could get back up, Kamikaze pins its shadow, paralyzing it:: If he did bring these beasts, then... I need to get back to the throne room!
Astaroth: I'll come with you!
Kamikaze: No, you got other concerns.
Astaroth: ::Her eyes widen as she remembers:: Yami. She and Aizen are still wandering the grounds with Melanie!
Kamikaze: Find them, I'll check on Sigimund and get August if its possible!
::The two take off in opposite directions::
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Sigismund
Experienced Novice
My kingdom of Doma is very quiet now.
Posts: 92
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Post by Sigismund on Nov 4, 2011 1:03:58 GMT -5
::The Count smiled, paying no mind to the creatures::
Thank you Doctor, that's all I needed to hear.
::Then as August began to make his exit, the Count gagged and foamed at the mouth. With a hideous gasp he clutched his hand to his chest and fell from the throne to lie in a heap on the floor before it, rolling down the steps. The creatures wasted no time devouring the corpse. Something grazed August's ear just then, small and unnoticable like a quick jet of heat. Nothing of consequence really, but still it did give him pause. Enough to turn ever so slightly to look back at the remains of the deposed regent of Doma as the Demons feasted on his flesh. That's when he heard the voice in his path::
How kind of you to clean up Doctor. Would have hated explaining that one to the servants. It's created the most awkward of moments in the past.
::And there he was, barring August's exit from the throne room, broad shoulders and tall build arrayed in blacks and reds and his long midnight hair loose about his shoulders like the feathers of a vulture. His black cloak swirled about him, hinting at the blood red within, giving the unsettling impression of leathery wings::
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August Krasnow
Determined Individual
"Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici."
Posts: 291
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Post by August Krasnow on Nov 4, 2011 1:19:47 GMT -5
August was struck with shock and surprise, had at his own game, clever Count. He reached for his glasses then, and begun to clean them with his vest, exhaling on the lenses then wiping them down.
"Clever use of a decoy, surprised I didn't catch it. Though, I'd expect nothing from someone such as you - or perhaps I'm getting sloppy in my age."
He set the glasses back upon the bridge of his nose. Then he smiled once more. Suddenly, below the feet of the Count a sigil appeared and wrapped itself with glowing lines around the counts feet. He was pinned, trapped, unable to move his legs and something in the markings was sapping mana.
"See, here's where you went wrong. You let a wolf such as me in here in the first place. The Gala, remember? I was a busy, busy boy then." He drew forth a dagger, laced with dragonsbane. He reared it back, aiming to strike down the Count. "Sorry if this makes things awkward."
From the throne, the two Synx's had finished on the false body for they were voracious and greedy eaters, and turned their attention back to August and the Count, their bulbous red eyes staring hungry and malicious. They showed their teeth in long crocodile smiles and begun to step closer.
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Post by Nu on Nov 4, 2011 1:20:41 GMT -5
::In the courtyard::
Aizen: This things weren't as tough as the real deal. ::Swings his naginata to get the blood off it::
Yami: No kidding. With actual demons, you don't know what to expect. ::Notions to the 3 now dead monsters:: These however, take their limbs and they're nothing.
Aizen: What do you think Melanie? Must of been forever since the last time you used your magic for combat.
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Sigismund
Experienced Novice
My kingdom of Doma is very quiet now.
Posts: 92
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Post by Sigismund on Nov 4, 2011 1:29:26 GMT -5
::The Count inhaled through his nose calmly as the sigil glowed brighter and brighter, exposing the red barrier keeping him contained. Then with a roll of his shoulders and a crack of his neck, the barrier shattered like the china of the cups the two gentleman had earlier thrown to the floor, dissipating out of existence. Over the sigil appeared a bright fissure like it had been slashed before the light from it faded:: Come now Doctor, you can do better than that. www.youtube.com/watch?v=jjZACyYKGJ8::The Count flicked his wrist and a long thin blade of a rapier slid form the sleeve of his coat, attached to his wrist somehow:: ::In the Courtyard Melanie stamped her foot at the remaining three demons that were charging up the walkway for them. Spikes of stone jutted underneath them, piercing them in the abdomen. Then with a twirl of her great double glaive, she hacked them in half as they soared through the air to meet her:: Melanie: Damn if I don't still got it.
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August Krasnow
Determined Individual
"Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici."
Posts: 291
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Post by August Krasnow on Nov 4, 2011 1:58:17 GMT -5
August's mouth scrunched, he hadn't expect that. First time going toe to toe with a dragon, this was proving more troublesome then he had anticipated. He jetted back and away from the Count, coming in line, side by side with the two Synx.
"The Empire is on their way, Sigismund. Shouldn't you be concerning yourself with rallying your remaining forces and not here, playing with me? Or is my company just too irresistible?" He raised his weapon in a threatening manner. "I'm not one to duel, but if you insist, I'll oblige."
The two creatures at his size, far larger than August or the Count stood like guardians of white with dripping maws. They hesitated, waiting. Their eyes following both the Count and August's movements.
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Post by Nu on Nov 4, 2011 2:09:34 GMT -5
::Kamikaze stopped as he got to the doors to the throne room::
Hope I'm not too late.
::He stopped as he heard growling on the other side. He cautiously cracked the door open and saw Sigimund with his back to him. He sighed in relief seeing he was alright, but his attention fell on August and the two monstrosities in the room::
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Sigismund
Experienced Novice
My kingdom of Doma is very quiet now.
Posts: 92
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Post by Sigismund on Nov 4, 2011 2:15:25 GMT -5
Now you and I know perfectly well that bloated carcass can't reach this place if they can't manage by-passing that rabble of boys on the coast of Tzen. Why else would they be desperate enough to turn to you?
::The Count stepped further into the throne room, not liking at all the prospect of being driven out of it in the first place. The Good Doctor was going to pay dearly for this::
Did you know that certain Wutai masters are able to hone an ability to manipulate an enemy through their auras? And the weaker the will of the opponent, the easier it is to control. It's rare, practically lost, however Shizuka is quite talented at it. After you left that alley your forces never made it much further than the portal you pulled them through. Demons like the ones you summoned here to defile my city have no will of their own. It's what makes them such reliable pawns. They're in a sort of stasis right now, and they'll remain there until you and I are through. I believe you need to reconsider the state of our alliance.
::His eyes flickered just once at the sound of Kamikaze's approach (yes the senses of an accomplished dragon could hear even a Wutai's approach::
I believe I instructed you to keep your distance on this one Kamikaze. Seal the doors and then secure the castle. No one enters or exits this room understood?
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Post by Nu on Nov 4, 2011 2:28:48 GMT -5
::Kamikaze was abit surprise he was heard, then remembered he was part dragon::
Kamikaze: Yes my lord. ::They hear the door close and lock.::
::He places sealing scrolls on the door. Preventing anyone from going in or coming out until he removes them. He sees one of the other approaching::
Wutai: Sir!
Kamikaze: Are you able?
Wutai: Yes sir!
Kamikaze: Good, find anyone else and tell them to secure the castle, no one is to leave the grounds.
Wutai: At once!
::The sounds of footsteps fade from Sigimund's hearing as Kamikaze did as he was commanded::
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Sigismund
Experienced Novice
My kingdom of Doma is very quiet now.
Posts: 92
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Post by Sigismund on Nov 4, 2011 22:38:51 GMT -5
::The Count grinned as the doors were sealed shut::
If you don't mind, Doctor the night air doesn't seem to be agreeing with me. Perhaps I should turn up the heat.
::Before August's eyes, the Count's jaw suddenly unhinged like a snake's showing a flickering spark within. Then once it ignited a jet of flames spewed from his mouth, engulfing the sentinels at his side. In a blink the Count was in the corner of the room where the oil for the lamps was kept in urns easily large enough to hide a man inside. With a sharp kick, they tumbled over and shattered, letting the precious oil wash over the throne room floor. Then with another breath, the Count ignited it, creating a gliding inferno surging towards his enemies::
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August Krasnow
Determined Individual
"Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici."
Posts: 291
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Post by August Krasnow on Nov 4, 2011 23:31:16 GMT -5
Through the smoke and flames, the rolling inferno, August stands stoic. The light from the fires exploding off his glasses, giving him a bright hollow appearance before the fires washed over him and both creatures beside him. The fire falls away and there is August standing behind a runic, glowing shield summoned forth from a carving in his palm, freshly engraved. His face plastered with the crocodile smile, as with his two cohorts.
"Forgive me please, I much prefer the cold. If you don't mind..."
Below his feat, a seal of Ptolemy rushes out over the throne room floor, illuminating all in its wash of demonic light. From it's intricate lines a cold chill bellows from some unseen world that connects it to this one through the devil's gate. In a flash, the entire room is frozen in an unearthly frost, freezing the very oils of the lanterns and encasing the dwindling flame in the throws of its flickering.
The two Synx's charge, the claws upon their feet digging into the frozen sheet of ice as it were simple soil, their maws snapping and dripping, hands out-stretched. From the Count's flanks come two spikes of ice, summoned by more hidden sigils, as large as men, they aim to pierce and pin so that the Synx may enjoy a more proper meal.
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Sigismund
Experienced Novice
My kingdom of Doma is very quiet now.
Posts: 92
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Post by Sigismund on Nov 4, 2011 23:46:36 GMT -5
::The spikes of ice shot from their place to stab through their target, but instead of the wet squish of soft flesh that they may have expected (indeed if ice could expect anything at all) there was another crack, this one like thunder as the icicles split into shards, like they had rammed themselves into stone or steel rather than the form of a man. In the moonlight, the Count appeared as a great shadow as he leaped into the air, bringing down a fist into the center of the floor, and the seal of Ptolemy along with it. There was a flash of light as it met the ground which glared off of August's glasses and allowed him to see that the Count had not dropped a fist at all, but a great scaled claw. But much of the detail was left out as the light became a wave that spread out from the center, tearing the ice apart in its wake and throwing both the Synx and the man against the wall. There was another blaze of firelight from the corner of August's eyes that alerted him that Sigismund had dashed to the corner of the room where the first Synx was. It was the Synx itself that was burning while the Count held it aloft in a pair of scaled arms the color of dried blood with black hooked claws at the ends of their fingers. The demon's form began to audibly crack as the Count pulled its arms in opposite directions, moving to tear it in half::
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August Krasnow
Determined Individual
"Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici."
Posts: 291
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Post by August Krasnow on Nov 5, 2011 3:13:42 GMT -5
There was no bones in the creature to crack, crunch and break, just sinew and muscle though in the Count’s grasp, it wretched and withered, snapping and struggling to escape as the fire washed over it. It begun to smell of searing meat and was in visible pain. Then something peculiar and curious happened, the Count would first feel a strange tinge, then a warm wash spread from his dragon arms and into his body. He would feel himself grow weaker and oddly pain free, minor at first but building. Any attempt to pull away from the creature feels as if the flesh and scales of the Count’s hands are being ripped asunder, like the flesh had started becoming part of the Synx and now refused to be freed without horrible difficulty.
August staggers back to his feet, his back alit with pain from the impact, he stammered a few feet forward and collected his cracked glasses from the floor, replacing them back over his eyes. He cracks his neck and back, then glances over to the Count and the demon in his grasp. He laughed.
“They’re parasites, Count. Demonic, but none the less parasitic. Fascinating creatures, they are. That humanoid appearance is just a façade so that it can pass through populations undetected to find prey. Their entire body is designed to infiltrate another creatures as easily and passively as possible.”
He fixes himself, centering his clothes and his hair.
“What you’re feeling now is a toxin coursing through your body, excreted through its skin and subdural glands, it calms their prey, placates them. Makes them easy to consume, or in the case of large creatures, burrow inside them to latch onto the large intestine while the creature is entirely unaware. As for that ripping sensation,” He chuckled, this part he enjoyed the most. “That ‘fur’ of theirs is billions of tiny tendrils, think of a jellyfish, but smaller. They destroy flesh, allowing the creature to pass through meat quite easily. Don’t worry too much though, not like you’re feeling anything by now and they can’t pass through bone.”
The other Synx had recovered and returned to August’s side, it gave him a begging look, as if to ask permission to assist. August stopped it.
“No, watch.”
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Sigismund
Experienced Novice
My kingdom of Doma is very quiet now.
Posts: 92
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Post by Sigismund on Nov 5, 2011 12:55:24 GMT -5
(OOC: Whew, long post! My apologies)
::The Count staggered as the thing violated the inside of him. Soon it had completely assimilated into him. He managed to remain on his feet to stare August in the eye, but leaned one hand against the wall::
A parasite. How fitting for you Doctor, a man who has no real power of his own but calls on greater power to aid him. Perhaps I was wrong, and you're no wolf at all. Just a pup begging for scraps at its master's table.
::The Count opened his mouth again and roared something inhuman as he threw his head back. A jet of flames spewed from his mouth, but that was not all. His very being seemed to be alight with flames licking their way through every pore in his body. The flames stopped, and the Count stooped and wretched. From his mouth he vomited the foul black substance; all that remained of the Synx. Then with another breath of fire he scorhed the putrid bile on the floor until it was no more. Rising back to his full height as though it had never happened, Sigismund's eyes centered the full weight of their presence onto the Doctor::
This is how a Dragon fights. Not with trickery or facades but with the strength of their own arm. You cannot win here Doctor. For once you are fighting something you don't understand. For what would a parasite like you know about strength.
??: ::clap clap clap:: Bravo.
::The atmosphere suddenly shifted, and for once the Count felt that the heavier presence in the room was not he. His eyes darted around the room for the source of the voice, sleek and feminine. Only to find it coming from the Doctor, though his mouth wasn't moving. In fact, the Doctor wasn't moving at all, nor was the Synx. Then he saw what truly held his attention; a tall shadow lingering behind August. Her form was female enough, though it shifted uncertainly like a great black robe caught in a slow wind. But he could not see her face. One thing was clear though; a pair of smoldering eyes the color of fire with hatred in them that spanned the ages. But through the hate he could hear the smile in her voice::
??: Quite impressive you Dragons. Able to overcome even the most devilish of magic through sheer force of will alone. You are blessed by the Gods indeed. But your trick of escaping the Dragonsbane, that was impressive. It takes a lot to surprise this one. He's one of my more interesting toys.
::She pointed one of her ethereal fingers at August::
I believe I'm correct in assuming this is your second attempt to have me killed. Your scent was all over the Demon Witch as well.
::The Count smiled::
I am humbled to think that my power has garnered such attention even from Jezebel herself. Seems even Hell is afraid of me.
Jezebel: Nothing gets past you does it my dear.
::She moved her fingers along August's arms as she spoke, and then before his eyes her shadowy arms melded into his, like slipping on a pair of gloves. She forced his long thin finger to point at the Count::
Jezebel: But whoever said I wanted to kill you? That would be such a waste.
::She spoke using the Doctor's hands to gesture, posturing his hands with his knuckles under his chin in a thoughtful pose::
You would love that wouldn't you. A full Dragon on your side. And what can you; a mere shadow of a Goddess offer me?
::The Shadow passed through August in a blink and floated just beside him, letting her poisonous lips whisper directly into his ear::
Jezebel: Your greatest desire of course. I gave it to Natalia after all. Immortality. True Immortality instead of the shadow of it you've managed to create.
But create it I did. And I shall find the true way to immortality the same as I do everything else; on my own. Now if you don't mind removing your parlor trick from the Doctor, he and I have some unfinished buisiness.
Jezebel: Suit yourself. And we were becoming such friends.
::She began floating back to her place behind August::
One question before you go, just a mere curiosity. Is that so-called princess aware of your taint lingering inside her?
Jezebel: I'd be willing to answer that for a price.
::The Count shook his head::
It makes no difference whether she knows or not. You know she's not yet a full dragon.
Jezebel: You are correct. ::he could almost feel those shadowy lips curve into a stomach turning grin:: Not yet.
::Then with that, her shadows were swept from the room; all except August and the remaining Synx. The Count didn't skip a beat::
Now where were we Doctor?
::With another mighty breath of fire, Sigismund scorched the remaining Synx to cinders. The Count shifted his arms back, and recalled the rapier he had employed previously::
Now then, shall we continue this as we should have begun it? As men?
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August Krasnow
Determined Individual
"Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici."
Posts: 291
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Post by August Krasnow on Nov 8, 2011 2:02:37 GMT -5
August came too with a horrifying shudder throughout his body, knowing not what had befell him. He stumbled about, collecting himself as he shook off the lingering sensation that his body wasn’t his own for a moment. Possession, he knew about it well, but never experienced it as such. So profoundly manifested to completely overshadow the hosts own personality. This was troubling, yet, strangely tantalizing.
“As… men?” August gasped, “You are anything but…” Exasperated, he raised his dagger to the Count. “And neither am I, no more.” A laugh rose from his throat. “No no, neither us men, why should we fight as such? You, a beast, I, a devil. Men are weak, fallible creatures; no, we’re more like gods. And as gods, we shall fight!”
A fiery glow erupted from his eyes as the dark ink coursing through his veins took over, with wings of black shadows erupting from his back in an explosion of swirling vortexes that wash the throne room in an impenetrable black. A profound cold irks itself back through the air and marble, chilling the air to the bone. The ashes of those things that had departed before fly away into the breeze, lost to the night air.
Then there came a bright flash of red light as the entire throne room erupted in a brilliant diabolical signature. The room is scrawled with eccentric writing, glowing with the fires of hell and spilling forth a cold unlike any that could be known or unknown to the realm. August’s breath froze in the air as he raised from the floor, lifted by the shadows and the words themselves. Slowly, from the marble and stone floor rose ghastly figures, featureless. Their eyes black as their empty mouths, crawled forth from the depths of some forsaken plane, inching towards the Count. More exploded from the stone below the Count’s feet and grabbed hold of his legs, their grasp unbreaking. With him, they melted into the floor as the crawling ghouls latched onto his body, drawing him into a dark abyss around him.
“From the depths of the hell I’ve embraced, so you, shall bear witness to the poisoned fruits it offers. Taste and be slated…”
The throne room begun to crumble, sucked into the abyss, a great wail erupted from some deep chasm. An otherworldly shriek that would send even the most stalwart man into quivering convulsions of despair and fright. A great seal appeared over August and he vanished, just as the Count is dragged to a temporary abyss of the deepest hell. The world turned to a black as he was dragged to a nightmare that would be his own, with Jezebel as it’s architect.
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Sigismund
Experienced Novice
My kingdom of Doma is very quiet now.
Posts: 92
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Post by Sigismund on Nov 8, 2011 4:43:37 GMT -5
::The Count closed his eyes as the things pulled him down in that darkness and the cold enfolded his form. Black, so dark, and cold, and unforgiving. Then suddenly, white. Sterile white blinded him as he opened his eyes. As his eyes adjusted he looked around carefully, not inclined to move, for the pristine atmosphere seemed so clean it made one cautious of disturbing the slightest flake of dust beneath their feet. Where was this place? The streets were lined with buildings that blurred together in a mesh of uniform glass and steel and neon lights. The people were as dull as the surroundings, all dressed in dull tones of blacks and whites and grays, their eyes downcast and as void of color and life as everything else. The unnatural silence, the icy waters of a frozen lake suddenly splashed most unpleasantly with the sound of a backhand. He turned to see a group of nearly identical men with white suits with black ties standing over a man they had apparently knocked into the street. This young man was not dressed like the others, but in a brown leather jacket with a red armband wrapped around his left arm. Its vibrant color stood out like a rose in bloom against the otherwise colorless community. Next to them was an overturned stool he had apparently been sitting on, and in front of that was an easel with a wide canvas, upon which was a lush depiction of a green countryside the Count knew well. Set up around the easel were similar paintings of the various sights of the city and country that he treasured above all else. And standing on the sidewalk just off to the side was a man in gray; the owner of the shop in front of which the young man had set up his studio. The first White Suit pressed a polished black shoe on top of the young man’s chest::
White Suit: We’ve warned you already, no display of artwork until you have a permit and it conforms to the regulations established by the city.
Artist: That’s the thing about art, it has no regulations.
White Suit: Scum!
::He struck the young man with a sharp kick to his jaw::
Owner: Thank you for getting here so quickly.
White Suit: And we thank you for the call. You’ve done the community a great service.
Owner: It was the least I could do. He’s been scaring off all of my business lately.
::The weasel whose face the Count didn’t even take the time to register slyly slipped a wad of gil into the white suit’s hand::
Owner: You will clean up won’t you?
White Suit: Only the best for such an honorable citizen.
::Then he turned back to his associates::
White Suit: Take it down.
::In moments the others snatched up the canvases, kicked over the easel and smashed what had only moments ago been the bright and clear vision of a vivid young mind to pieces beneath their ignorant feet. The head white suit took the artist’s brushes and snapped them in two, throwing them onto the pile and then splattering the paints all over it. Then he reached into his coat, so white the Count would have taken great pleasure in spitting upon it, and pulled out a lighter. With a careless flick and a toss, the remains of that young man’s paintings went up in flames. Hauled to his feet by the others and held by his shoulders, all the painter could do was watch::
Artist: You’re telling the ocean to be still. But your chains cannot stop the waves from rising.
White: We’ve heard enough out of you.
::With another signal, the other white suits hurled him back to the ground and tore the coat and shirt from his back. Then in a viscous manner, brutal and without dignity they stomped on his hands, determined to break every bone in them so they would never paint again. The young man probably would have screamed had they not kept him down with numerous kicks to his ribs and stomach that took the breath from him. Then the head one reached down, grabbed a fistful of his hair and dragged him closer to where his beloved paintings continued to burn::
White Suit: That vision of yours is a relic of the past. People like you are an impediment to our future. So we’ll make sure you can never share that vision again.
::This time the young painter did scream as his face was thrust into the fire to burn away those eyes that had seen so much. The Count turned away from the show of gut-wrenching bigotry. The only thing more sickening than the act itself was the sight of those who simply continued walking, pretending they didn’t see even as the sound of screams and the smell of burnt flesh filled the air. His ears were suddenly pulled by other voices; loud voices, young voices, like that of the painter. He followed them, his legs feeling like they didn’t belong to him, but were foreign attachments dragging him despondent to this new location at the end of the street. There he found a group of bright eyed young lads dressed much like the artist had been, with those same red armbands. They were gathered around one of their own who stood atop a simple wooden box, pumping his fist into the air amid cheers. A demonstration! What was odd about this group especially was that each one of them, including the one speaking, carried a gleaming sword::
Protester: This nation once stood for something greater than this! It used to be a place where the strong defended the weak! They didn’t step on them or treat them like the insects they see us as now! It was a place where people would stop and talk with another, where we cared about our neighbors, about their families, about the ideals that made us great! I have never seen what this nation was with my own eyes, but the stories my grandfather told me were enough to make me see the blindness that has taken us now! Now the welfare of our fellow men is put behind us in favor of our businesses, our car payments, our positions, our social status, how we look to our superiors, and how many of those below us we can exploit! The time has come for us to cast this all aside! To take ourselves out of the machine and tell it that we will no longer take part! And now the machine itself is coming to silence us!
::He gestured to a line-up of those same men in white suits, goose-stepping towards the demonstration with steel rods held in front of them::
Protester: We’re not breaking any laws here. This is a peaceful demonstration.
White Suit: You have been reported by a citizen as a disturbance to the community number 31544.
Protester: I do not respond to a number for I am a man, and my name is D’eon Belmonte.
White Suit: Be that as it may number 31544 if you do not disperse at once, we are under orders to bring you all in for re-commissioning. Now cease this disturbance.
Protester: This whole damn city is a disturbance! A crime against everything it once stood for!
White Suit: That is enough number 31544.
::The Protester gripped the hilt of his sword tightly as the men in white took aim with their steel tubes::
Protester: I told you, my name is D’eon!
::With a sharp click, the lead white suit’s rod fired a long cable which hummed with an electrical buzz. But the young freedom fighter leaped heroically into the air and knocked it away with his blade. In a show of chivalry and camaraderie, the young men surged forward with their swords held high. Some of those in the front fell when the cables struck them and jolted their bodies with electricity, but they were fast and closed the distance between their adversary quickly. With the range of their electrical cables nullified, the spineless enforcers had to engage in hand to hand to keep their blades at bay, something these cowards were apparently unfamiliar with. The swords of the young men fell on them, cleaving them open gloriously. It was a show that the Count could applaud. Then the head white suit fell to the back of his ranks and muttered something into a communicator hidden in the sleeve of his coat::
White Suit: Input fail-safe code 112263.
::The young men froze and fell to their knees, some of them clasping the backs of their necks where electrical sparks suddenly sizzled. They fell face down into the street; all but one. The one who called himself D’eon staggered forward valiantly towards the nearest White suit. Without the strength to grasp his sword any longer, he dropped it and pulled a dagger from the inside of his coat. But just as he reached his enemy, the white suit snatched it away and plunged it into D’eon’s heart. With blood dripping from his mouth, D’eon uttered his last words::
D’eon: Long live the Red Dragon… Long live Doma…
::Then he fell to the earth to join his comrades, his blood running scarlet through the snow white streets. The Count stepped to where he was as the white suits dispersed and bent to pull back the young man’s jacket. There he found the answer to this most mysterious and inglorious defeat; a mechanical device attached to his back, running all along his spinal cord and controlled by a computer chip. These valiant young men had been undone before they had begun. Against this system, all the bravery, strength, and skill in the world could not have saved them. The Count took pause to consider his sleeve and saw to his horror that he was wearing the very same white suit of the swine that had ended this most noble of regimes. He knew where he was now. The perversion had not changed the layout. He stood and turned to where his castle should have been and saw instead a skyscraper; a monstrosity jutting into the sky like a knife with the words “DOMA TOWERS” emblazoned upon them::
Truly your depravity knows no bounds. This is indeed my greatest fear. All that I cherish trodden down. The world that I love distorted into a place with no honor, ruled by greed and weak-willed maggots like you.
::There it was. He could feel the heat returning to him:: But in showing me this, you have made a most grievous mistake. You have only doubled my resolve to see my vision completed. ::Smoke began to billow beneath his feet and rise around him like a robe as he stared into the great abomination, knowing its peak was where he would find his opponent, for it was gutless insects like him who sat in the seat of power in this twisted reality::
You know legend has it that it is the duty of the Red Dragons to guard the gates of hell. So how about I see about closing them.
::The hideous white suit tore away from him as leathery red wings shot from his back, ripping them to shreds. Back in the blacks and reds befitting of his rank he beat his wings against the ground, fanning the smoke that continued to rise. Then with a roar he shot for the top of the tower like a blood red arrow. He crashed through the topmost window where he found as he had suspected the “Good Doctor” who had been watching it all from on high like the god he had proclaimed himself to be. Without losing he speed he gripped the man by the throat, taking them both through the roof of the building, higher and higher into the gray sky. Until at last they reached the barrier. The sky itself shattered like a mirror, taking with it the Hell the Doctor had devised for him. They were back in the throne room of Doma, exactly as it should be; a castle, a fortress of strength that towered over its people, protecting them as it had for centuries. In his clutches against the wall, the Count held August aloft, his feet hovering above the ground. With his right hand still gripped around the Doctor’s throat, he took August’s arm with his other, the one that held the dagger and slammed it against the wall, relieving him of his weapon::
Anything else you wish to show me in your bag of tricks or are you quite finished?
::Adjusting the grip on his neck, Sigismund turned his fingers back into claws and took a firm hold on August’s lower jaw, placing his fingers inside his mouth to keep it open, putting an end to any wretched mutterings he might conjure::
Now if you’re ready to be civil, seeing as you are a man of business, I have a proposition for you. You can heed my request, or you can have your jaw lying beside your knife on my floor. Blink once for the first option and twice for the second.
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August Krasnow
Determined Individual
"Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici."
Posts: 291
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Post by August Krasnow on Nov 20, 2011 1:05:34 GMT -5
(OOC: I’m going to make this quick and dirty, if you don’t mind.)
August smiled gingerly as the Count’s digits invaded his mouth, prying his jaw ajar. His body tensed and jarred under the grip of the dragon, his body struggling like a bound animal trapped under a larger predator. He squirms and withers fruitlessly. His muscles tense, his body jars, limbs and bones contort as far and hard as they can under their restraint till there comes a sudden and sharp snap.
August’s eyes grow suddenly dull and body slacks. The skin of the corpse cracks and peels and suddenly sloughs away in wisps of ash and soot, the flesh shattering along fault lines and carried away on the soft night wind through the rafters till the body under the Count’s gasp is no more but black motes in the air that swirl about and dance around the throne room.
“Plenty of tricks.”
August’s disembodied voices comes on the wind, speaking like a booming voice of a god from on high.
“But Dear Count, you cannot threaten pain and death on what is already deceased. Even a dragon such as you should realize how completely silly that is? But, despite my being dead, I’ll hear your proposition, lizard, speak before I’m whisked away to my contractual obligations.”
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Sigismund
Experienced Novice
My kingdom of Doma is very quiet now.
Posts: 92
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Post by Sigismund on Nov 20, 2011 1:19:15 GMT -5
(OOC: You never did tell me what you thought of the Count's Hell. Going to leave this open ended for Figaro if it pleases you.)
::The Count smirked as the traitor whispered back from where he belonged; skulking in the shadows. He could not be killed, true, but the Good Doctor had just recieved the message; that to fight the Dragon King was a battle he could not win::
Before you leave my castle, insect, we have a matter to discuss. It's about your pets.
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