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 Post subject: Crowning one's self
View Likes PostPosted: Fri Jul 07, 2017 4:22 pm 
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Tywardrea, city of ancient magic. Home to a multitude of creatures from Beyond the Wall, in especiality elemental kin. A festive place where cultures meet and bonds are made” Frita closed her travelers guide and took her surroundings in. Tywardrea, Tywa for short, was a colorful place for sure, and home to colorful characters. However, with the high number of magically gifted citizens, and a scarce police force, it was also a place, where the strong often ruled the weak. Not a good place to wander down back alleys. Too bad this was exactly what Frita was here to do. She tightened her cape around her shoulders, making sure not to show too much skin. She wanted as little attention as possible while she was here.

As Frita began her walk down Mainstreet she took in the town. It had been a long time since she was in a town this large, and she had missed it. Countless merchants riddled the streets, yelling and boasting and selling their wares to the many people rushing through. “Genuine Argick luck potions for sale! Guaranteed to make your luck turn for the better! Only 2 silver pieces!” shouted an extremely tall man, at least a meter taller than Frita. Perhaps he had blood of a giant of some kind, or an earth elemental perhaps. She tipped her glasses and analysed the “elixir”, which had a simple light incantation on it to make it sparkle, but was otherwise nonmagical. Smiling to herself, she grabbed a couple of silver coins from her purse and used her thumb to edge a small symbol into them. She approached the vendor and pushed the coins into his palm. He looked happily at the 4 shining pieces of silver and handed her two bottles. “Looking for a bit of extra luck miss?” He asked with a friendly demeanor. “Always,” she responded “but I’m truly a bigger fan of karma.” She gave him a sly look, which he didn’t catch, and went on her way, drinking one of the elixirs, which definitely contained honey. “Honestly, with his charisma and large stature, one would think he could make a living just selling honey.” She mused to herself, placing the second bottle in her pocket. She skipped down the street in a great mood. Perhaps luck really was on her side today.

Frita was searching for an older man called The Whip. A 36 year old half ogre, cruel and strong beyond the human scope, who had run an illegal drug ring in the nearby town of Shar, but had fled, allegedly to some buddies of his here in Tywa. Finding the group that was hiding him wouldn’t prove much of a problem, but getting to him without causing too much collateral damage could prove difficult, and causing a scene in this particular town wouldn’t go over well with its leaders. Not with a name like Frita Zhoon.

Asking around, Frita found a contact called Mouse, who should be an old friend of The Whip. Frita wondered to herself how often these guys ran into people with the same nickname as them. The Whip and the Mouse both sounded kind of obvious. There might be one in every city. Would they change their names if they joined the same gang? She had caught a girl named Gray Mouse once, maybe it was something like that? These were the thoughts traveling through her mind as she entered into the Scarlet Tint, a seedy tavern in Tyra, a festive dive for lowlifes and thugs with enough gold to buy their sorrows away. The place reeked of booze, smoke and sweat, and a poor rendition of a dancing row was being played by a musician, who probably never had a single lesson on the lyre on which he was playing. The place was crawling with jolly drunkards. It was loud, with gambling and partying. Not the worst place to spend an evening, if you liked brutish company, which Frita did, on the occasion. Frita sat down with a drink in front of Mouse, a balding man with numerous scars, loose fitting but generally nice clothes, piercing eyes and a compass-like device on his wrist, whose needle spun once every few seconds, seemingly at random. She wanted to identify its properties, but it would be a bad play. Mouse seemed like the paranoid type, and he definitely wouldn’t wait for her to finish an analysis. It’d also be rude.

“What’dya want missy? Drunk rat like me ain’ much worth yer time.” He said, a sleight slur to his words, which seemed like he was playing up his drunkenness a bit, perhaps to throw her off, or just to illustrate a point. Frita leaned her head on her knuckle and smiled. “I’m looking to set up a trade with an old associate of mine. I hear he’s fallen on some bad luck, and I’m hoping he’s desperate enough to let me help him get back onto his feet,” she took a slow sip of her mead “putting his talents to use for me.” She gave Mouse a sly, knowing smile. Mouse smiled, clearly knowing what she was talking about. He cast a quick look to his side reflexively, which let Frita follow his eyes to the back of the head of a man who wore a characteristic orange scarf. It was the Whip, no doubt about it.

Frita gave Mouse a friendly smile, pretending not to have spotted the man, which seemed to work. “My friend might have had to leave town a bit quicklike, but ain’ mean he’s up for jus’ any ol’ business what come his way. How can I know yer wort’ his time, eh?” He said with a glimmer in his eye. Not the cheapest ask for a bribe she’d seen, but certainly not the slickest either. She didn’t really need Mouse anymore though. Whip was right over there. The question was how to approach the situation. Even with her light disguise, the chances of him spotting her was too high, and she didn’t know how many of the people in this tavern would come to his aid. Fighting 20 or 30 people whose abilities she didn’t know was ill advised, even for her. Especially since the Whip was a rather formidable fighter all on his own. Thinking quickly, she devised a strategy. She would approach him from behind, quickly use her stone handcuffs, which she could control with her magic, to capture his hands and then force him to the ground by making the cuffs fly downwards. While doing so, she would use her fire to create a pathway between her and the window, grab her target and flee outside, where she only needed to run about 100 meters before being in a crowded location with guards. The thugs wouldn’t be ballsy enough to follow her there.

Taking a deep breath she stood up. “Perhaps I can prove myself in a quick match.” She said to Mouse, beckoning him to the darts board. She put 5 silver pieces between her fingers, showing him, “If you win you get a nicer evening, if I win, you’ll show me to your friend”. Mouse darted up, “Always up for a wager dove! But be warned, I’m no one to be trifled with!” She followed him towards the game, which meant they would pass right by the Whip’s table, where she would execute her plan.

Frita held her breath, tensing up in her entire body as she readied herself to unleash the full scope of her powers. Just before the two of them passed by the table, she heard a large thud. Mouse fell on the ground and a young, handsome man fell in front of him. It seems they managed to bump into one another, as Mouse was keeping an eye on the Whip as they passed. The handsome man looked confused and a bit dazed. He also looked completely out of place. He wore a white and black checkered set of clothes, had beautiful long white hair, with three braids running down it in the back. His eyes were a beautiful silver, and even on the ground, he seemed to have a calm dignity about him. Definitely an elemental or maybe even angelkin, Frita thought to herself as she, for a second, was mesmerized by the otherworldly beauty of the boy. “Oh, I’m really sorry sir!” He exclaimed as he got up in a single fluid motion, using air currents to aid him. He reached a hand down towards Mouse, still sitting on the floor, having spilled a mug of mead over his outfit “Yer sorry!? Not yet you ain’ you stinkin’ whitehaired bastard!” Mouse jumped to his feet, furious, drawing a knife from his side and taking one step towards the boy before falling to the ground unconscious. “Now now, play nice with others. No need to lose your temper.” Frita said, having just used her stone hand to knock the poor man down. She looked towards the boy. “Are you alright?” She asked calmly, as she retracted the stone from her hand.

“YOOOOOUUUU!!!” The loud roar suddenly erupted from right next to them, as Whip rose up, towering above the two of them. He drew his whip, which uncoiled and revealed with a huge swing that the metal infused weapon was capable of cutting through tables. He took a step towards them, his killing intent palpable, as a number of others drew weapons as well all around them.
“Crap!” Frita heard herself say, as she reflexively stepped back from the man, and summoned fire in her palms. “This was what I was trying to avoid…”

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On the one hand I want to improve myself with every chance I get, write, study and draw in every waking moment.

On the other hand I wanna just lie in bed and watch cartoons literally always.


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 Post subject: Re: Crowning one's self
PostPosted: Sat Jul 08, 2017 2:04 pm 

“Even if you can't see me, even if you can't hear me, I'll be by your side.”

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Great. This was just great. Why was it always him? Why was it always him that got chosen to do the fetch and errand routine? Why was it always he, Silva, who had to go around chasing after his little brother when he decided to wander off? They had maids and butlers, so why the heck did they not get sent to do the grunt work? But of course, he never had the confidence to ask his mother or father those questions, instead, his brain automatically clicked into 'obeying and doing what he was told' mode, heading out the door with his hooded cloak around his shoulders, once more dressed to look his female counterpart. Or rather, what he would have looked like if he hadn't changed to a man. Because Silva Rias'oyvee had not always been a male, in fact, he started off life as biologically female. That was until he realized who he was deep down, and became what he was today. But of course, in a family that could only have female heirs, that was a huge blow, especially to his mother, and consequently his father, since now they had two sons, and no daughters. Both were unaccepting and forced him to keep up the act of being a woman still, and so he did. Why though...why he kept blindly obeying when he'd rather turn the other way...was beyond his comprehension.

And there Silva was to be found, walking down the streets of the more filthy part of the city of Tywardrea, his home town, to find his little brother, Rune. That brat really did get on Silva's nerves sometimes, doing this. Though Silva couldn't blame him, there were times when he was tempted to run off as well, but from what he could tell, Rune didn't even realize that he was doing it until he got there. Which was another reason why he had to find Rune, and fast, because who knows what sort of trouble the fifteen-year-old was getting himself into? Why, the last time he had to go out on a search and rescue, Rune had gotten himself into a street brawl started by two rival gangs of orcs AND trolls. It had not been pretty, trying to pry him away, without being pointed out. Even though he wished it wasn't the case, the Rias'oyvee family wasn't all too loved in these parts, in fact, Silva would say that the majority of the slums hated their guts. Who wouldn't? They were selfish, stuck up nobles who thought they were better than everyone else. In Silva's mind, just because they were "in charge of the place" did not give them rights to act that way. Yes, they were depicted by the king to govern the place, collect taxes and carry out decrees...but still.

Which was why, when he had to go out and find his brother, Silva had to wear this cloak, just in case he bumped into trouble himself. The hood up, his eyes glanced here and there, he wished things would pick up the pace and he could just find Rune and go home. He was getting bad vibes from around him, the looks he was getting weren't the nicest, not in the least. Maybe the inhabitants had figured out who Silva was and just wanted him gone as much as he wanted to BE gone. Shivering, not from the cold but the feelings he was getting, he pulls the cloak around his shoulders tighter, and walks just a bit faster. "Better hurry...have to hurry. Come ON Rune...where are you this time?" He mutters this under his breath, peering through windows and glancing down alleyways, but no luck.

Then, he hears a voice raised, something about a kid needing to watch where he was going. "Rune!" It had to be him. There was no way that it wasn't, he wasn't going to think of any other possibility. So, he rushes around the corner, glancing up at the crickety wooden sign that hung above the door. Great, a tavern. And one of the worst ones, too. This was where all the gang leaders, scumbags, and low life black market leaders liked to hang out. Why had Rune had to pick this place to end up at?! He suppressed a groan, pushing open the door just in time to see his little brother get up off the floor, and offer help to a scummy looking man, that made Silva think of a rat or mouse, apologizing at the same time.

However, it seemed the man wasn't about to accept his apology, calling him a bastard, before trying to attack him, about to pull a knife on the unsuspecting boy, and Silva steps forward, trying to get closer, but couldn't get past the burly guys in the way. "Rune!" He calls, but he was pretty sure that the younger boy couldn't hear him, so instead, Silva struggles past the people, pushing his way, dodging and weaving sweaty and smelly men of all different species, trying to hold his breath to keep the stench from his nose. Why did the heck this always have to happen? Every single time, with no fail at all? It was ridiculous!

Before the man could attack Rune though, a hand reaches out and knocks the guy back to the ground, unconscious. What? He turns to look at his brother's helper, a female with a strong aura around her. She asks if Rune was okay, and the smaller male nods, a tiny smile on his lips. "Yes, I am alright, thanks to you! I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't helped me!" In Silva's mind, he was mentally shaking his head. 'You would have beat him to a pulp and turned him inside out in an instant, that's what you would have done...You're more than capable of it, and you know it. I've seen you do it.' But this was all just said in his mind, instead he just stares, watching for the time being, but that was all about to change when a sudden yell echoes around the room, and the sound of a crashing whip sounds.

Silva jumps, and gasps at who he sees. A huge orc, even bigger than the ones he was used to, stands up, wielding a deadly looking whip in his hand. He could hear the girl speak, saying something about this being what she was trying to avoid. What was she trying to avoid? Causing a scene? That was nearly impossible in a place like this, anyone in their right mind would know that! Rune just stood there, staring at the damaged tables and chairs, mouth gaping slightly, his eyes wide at the towering creature that was threatening to cleave them in two with his whip. Silva wasn't about to let that happen, he had to act. Now. While he still could.

Even though he had seen the fire form in the woman's hands, Silva ignores it. He lets wind whip up around himself, the hood falling from his face as he rose into the air, hovering in the view of everyone in the room. To them, he looked to be a beautiful young woman, all in silver and gray, gentle in appearance, but with eyes of ice, glowing intensely with the use of his powers. Using magic to eject his voice he yells out. "STOP! I COMMAND YOU THIS INSTANT TO PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPONS, AND OBEY! IN THE NAME OF RIAS'OYVEE, I URGE YOU TO LISTEN IMMEDIATELY!" He looks to them all, seeing the hatred in their eyes and all over their faces, but he does not falter. "IF YOU RESIST, I WILL HAVE YOU ALL ARRESTED AND DETAINED. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!"

At first, the brawl does not listen, though shortly after they began to put away their weapons, one by one. The only one who does not obey was the one holding the whip. From the corner of his eye, he could see a glint in his brother's eyes, something cold, something...dark. There was a sort of mixed hatred in the thanks that his expression had on his face...but why?! Why was Rune looking at him like that? Wasn't he supposed to be grateful? He could have ended up getting hurt because of the situation, and Silva helped him! So why, why that look? Rune turns his face away, and dodges away from the woman, and rushes from the building, disappearing out the door. 'RUNE! You little!' These words resounded in Silva's mind as he lowered his body from the air, and ran from the scene as well, not caring what happened after, leaving the bar.

His head turned this way and that, but Rune was gone. "****!" He groaned, bringing a hand to his forehead, letting out a deep sigh. Why did this have to happen? Usually, it went much easier than this! All he had to do most times was find Rune, detain him, and then go home. No fuss, no trouble, no resistance. Why today, of all days, did Rune have to decide to change things up? "Dammit! Where the hell did you go?" Silva felt frustrated, throwing his hands up in the air, placing them on the top of his head, turning in a circle a couple of times, knowing he better move on from the place before the guys from the inside realized he was still there. "Dammit, dammit, dammit! UGH!" He kicks a rock, sending it flying, before finally heading on, he had to find Rune. Find him, and go home. Where it was safe.

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Last edited by Shadow_Heart on Sun Jul 09, 2017 2:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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 Post subject: Re: Crowning one's self
View Likes PostPosted: Sat Jul 08, 2017 7:07 pm 
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Frita manifested her stone plate arms as quickly as she could, knowing that a swing from the powerful metal infused whip would be coming her way any second now. As Whip wound up his arm, and Frita raised her arms in preparation for the attack, a strong torrent of wind suddenly shot through the room, making both of them pause.

A woman, almost identical to the silver haired boy, was floating in the center of the tavern, causing almost tornado strength gusts to whip up in the small tavern; she spoke, infusing her voice with power, to stop the uproar. "STOP! I COMMAND YOU THIS INSTANT TO PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPONS AND OBEY! IN THE NAME OF RIAS'OYVEE, I URGE YOU TO LISTEN IMMEDIATELY! IF YOU RESIST, I WILL HAVE YOU ALL ARRESTED AND DETAINED. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!" It took the people a few moments to stand down, the tension and anger palpable in the room. Now that she thought about it, the boy did match the description of the silverhaired airkin who lead the Rias’oyvee household, which was the household that controlled Tyva. What would they be doing in this part of town though? As Frita pondered this, the boy suddenly rushed past her, knocking her aside and rushing out of the tavern with inhuman speed. A rough family quarrel? The floating woman saw the boy rush out and quickly followed him outside, leaving the tavern in complete silence for a few seconds, everyone dumbstruck by the events.
The Whip! Frita suddenly remembered what she was doing, and turned to see the weapon approaching her with lightning speed. She dodged out of the way at the last second, seeing the floorboards ripped asunder by the ogre’s strength. She tried to recompose herself and bring up her stone plate arms once again, but before she had a chance to fully do so, the left knuckle of her lumbering opponent sailed towards her. She had no time to dodge and instead brought up her arms to shield her a bit from the impact, letting the force carry her across the room to try and force some distance between her and Whip. She’d underestimated his strength however; as the force knocked her clean across the room. She felt herself impacting against a hard surface which gave way to her, but not before imparting an incredible pain in her back. She landed on the ground, rolling another meter or two before coming to a stop. She barely noticed she was outside, because of the hit she took. She must have travelled 15 meters! Her vision was blurry. Even though she’d blocked, the punch had knocked her arms backwards enough that she’d managed to hit herself in the forehead with her own stone hands. She got up on her feet, her body protesting greatly. She was bleeding from her head, and her stone plate had been destroyed, leaving cuts over her arms.

Frita spat on the ground defiantly as the tavern patrons started flooding like piranha out of the tavern. They stood in a semicircle around her, as the Whip appeared from the door, grinning maliciously. “I hate to waste good product, but you seem more trouble than ye’d be worth. Let’s see how many body parts I’ll have to cut off before’n ye stop lookin’ so high n’ mighty.” He spoke slowly, closing the distance with large, slow steps as he uncoiled his whip once more. He raised his whip for another attack. A gust of wind, this one more localized, suddenly knocked him backwards, sending the half-ogre to the ground. “I TOLD YOU THERE’D BE CONSEQUENCES!” The flying woman said from the sky, a palm pointed towards the Whip. She was powerful, to be able to create such blasts, enhance her voice and float at the same time without so much as breaking a sweat. “I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR FILTH LIKE YOU! SO FOR NOW I’LL JUST... ARRGH!” She screamed as she was pulled from the air at breakneck speed to the ground. The Whip had coiled his whip around her ankle while she was making her speech. “Stuck up silver haired fairies, huh? To think I’d run into such a price while ah’m down on me luck. You don’ even dream what you’re gonna sell for…” The beastly man licked his fat lips with an unnaturally long, flat tongue. Frita saw him slowly approaching the grounded girl, who seemed stunned from the powerful fall. Frita jumped to her feet quickly and ran to the monstrous enemy. Using her fire, she burned the ground he was standing on, while infusing her arms and legs with as much strength as she could enchant it with. The Whip tried desperately to avoid the flames suddenly burning his feet, only to be full body tackled by Frita, who slammed him up against a nearby wall. She grabbed at his hair and slammed his head down into her knee before wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders to throw him headfirst into the ground. It felt good to take back the initiative after the failure earlier. This guy was the worst scum imaginable, he was going to pay!

Frita continued to pummel the half-ogre, who didn’t have a second to catch his breath before he was punched by a stone fist, or thrown at another hard object. Frita wound up a flaming stone knuckle sandwich to finish the fight, but suddenly felt a sharp pain in her side. Looking down, a knife had buried itself just below her ribs. It was a shallow wound, but it hurt like hell. Looking in the direction of the thrower, she saw that the tavern patrons were drawing nearer. A second knife flew towards her, but this one she was able to punch aside. This was bad. The thugs were slowly encircling her, their eyes hungry for blood. Their grinning faces sent a shiver down her spine as she got into a defensive position against the group. She brought out her fire, blanketing the ground between them with a hellscape of powerful flames, buying herself time to place a patch of mud over the wound, closing it for now. There were a lot of them, but none of them seemed particularly good at fighting. This wasn’t the worst situation, she thought to herself. She heard a heavy groan behind her. “Impossible!” She thought. She should have taken him out for the count for at least a few hours! Let alone minutes! The terrifying giant stood, his right arm clearly broken in several places. That’s something at least, Frita thought to herself. The Whip punched the part of his arm that was broken. It made a wet and hollow crunching sound, like breaking open a coconut. He roared in pain as Frita shivered, terrified by the horrific display. The Whip wrapped his other hand around the broken part of his arm, as if putting the bone into the right place. A second later his hand on the broken arm started moving, and then, miraculously, the entire arm seemed to be fully healed. Looking closely, Frita could see that every scratch, every burned patch of flesh and every bruise had disappeared. “You’re… you’re not a half-ogre, huh…?” Frita said with a terrified smile. “Haha! Not quite. I’m all troll, baby! From the look on your face I assume you know what that means.” The Whip broke out in a hearty laugh, as he started walking towards Frita; he cracked his knuckles. “Let’s have some fun.”

_________________
On the one hand I want to improve myself with every chance I get, write, study and draw in every waking moment.

On the other hand I wanna just lie in bed and watch cartoons literally always.


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 Post subject: Re: Crowning one's self
PostPosted: Sun Jul 09, 2017 2:42 pm 

“Even if you can't see me, even if you can't hear me, I'll be by your side.”

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Just as he was thinking that he was in the clear, taking steps away from the bar, Silva was frozen in his movement when he heard the sound of something crashing through the door of the building behind him. He was at least fifteen feet away from the place, and as he whirled around to see what was going on, was surprised to see that the woman who had helped his brother Rune had come flying out of the door, landing hard on the ground, a cloud of dust, dirt, and debris being sent into the air around her. Silva shelters his eyes, squinting so he could see through the dust, and after a moment uses a puff of wind from his palm to clear the air, showing the scene before him. Much to his disdain, standing there was the large whip yielding ogre, looking as vicious as ever, and simply thirsting for a fight. Why did creatures like them have to be so recklessly blood yearning? Disgusting.

Taking to the air, Silva lets loose a powerful gust of wind, focusing the blast on the ogre and knocking him to the ground, yelling out that there would be consequences. He kept his hand raised, aimed in the direction of the ogre, irritation now on his face as he glared through narrowed eyes, brows furrowed deeply, frowning in disappointment. He'd thought the scum would have listened and just dispersed, the threat of getting arrested should have been a big factor in that. He knew that a lot of these were wanted men, he'd have to say at least an eight to ten ration. Just the thought of being able to walk away without the repercussion of arrest should have been enough...but apparently this ogre's brain was smaller and his head just thicker to compensate the lost space. Well, it seemed that it was time to use the less preferred method, which sadly included knocking the lot of them out.

Just as he was about to let another blast of wind free, the whip flies forward, wrapping the tail end around Silva's ankle. His eyes widen as he was suddenly yanked from the sky, screaming as he came down, landing hard on the ground, knocking the air from his lungs, making him gasp for breath. Pricks of tears formed in the corners of his eyes at the pain, trying hard to breathe. Silva winced as the ogre came closer, saying some pretty crude things, but Silva keeps his tongue still, biting back the urge to scream and say for the ugly beast to get the hell away. But even if he'd had the courage to say those things, he couldn't, as he was barely able to get any oxygen in his chest. Another factor was the bit that he couldn't even think clearly at the moment, the blow that came with the impact of his body being hurled to the ground at such a speed was enough to rattle anyone's brains, especially if they weren't expecting it. So, all Silva could do at that moment was lay there, helpless as he fought to steady both his brain and his breathing.

Just as the ogre was about to be on top of him, saying something about selling silver-haired faeries and how much he, Silva, would sell for, the woman from before jumped up to her feet and tackled the hulking thing, keeping it away from Silva at the last moment. He quickly changes course, leaving Silva to the others who came swarming out of the bar, encircling them, in order to keep either from getting away. The woman keeps pummeling the ogre, and Silva finally was able to struggle to his feet, dress, and cloak now covered in dust and dirt. Stained...just like his pride at the moment. Then again, there wasn't much to stain in the first place, but that was for another time, now was not the place to think of that.

Silva didn't even bother with talking now, instead, he focused on getting them in control. The woman had somehow managed to knock out the ogre, but now the others were going towards her, a knife having made it's way past her defenses and lodging into her side, but she was able to deal with this, and a second she knocks aside with a punch. Stirring, the heap of ogre began to wake, and Silva could only shake his head, pushing thoughts aside as he didn't think any longer. Spreading his legs just slightly to get in a more steady stance, he slides one foot in an arch across the ground, which slowly turns muddy, as water starts to well up from underground pockets deep beneath the earth, turning muddier and muddier. Patches become puddles of water, that spreads across the dirt beneath the thugs' feet, covering their boots or sandals or whatever they were wearing with mud and water. Then, taking a breath, Silva takes a step forward, sliding the other foot in the opposite direction, in a quick motion, so that in the blink of an eye, the water and mud freezes over, stopping the smaller thugs in their tracks, the ice continuing to crawl up their legs until their whole lower bodies were encased, stalling movement completely. They yell out in surprise and anger, telling Silva to let them go, that he had no right to do this. Silva does not listen, instead turns to the thugs that had managed to get behind him, deciding to let the woman deal with the ogre until she needed him.

His eyes glowed as he fought, hair flowing like molten silver, natural and fluid. It showed in his very movements that he was no mere human, but something else entirely. Gusts of wind blow around the thugs, whirlwinds spiraling around as he focused, using his hands to control the flow of the air, looking almost to be in a dance as his hands moved this way and that in a swaying motion. Closing his eyes, he concentrates, forming the image of the thugs in his mind, seeing them in his head, seeing them covered in snow, frozen. The air temperature drops around them, the cold mainly over the men, who were now looking around, confused as to what was going on. Flakes of white drift down from nowhere, landing on them, one by one, until they were covered in less than five minutes, dropping to the ground like flies. Not dead, but just unconscious. Letting his arms drop, Silva takes a deep breath, sighing softly, turning to look towards the woman, to see how she was faring in her duel against the ogre. If she had finished by now, he would bow to her, speaking. "Thank you. I do hope that you can forgive me for causing trouble. Now, if you shall excuse me, I must be on my way. I'm trying to find my brother, and I don't want him to get too much further ahead of me." He bows again, and turns, getting ready to once more ensue the search for Rune.

_________________
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夢はこの部屋の中で
優しい歌をずっと君に歌っていた
何がほんとのことなの
一番強く信じられる世界を追いかけて
君の銀の庭へ

静かに寄り添って
何処にも行かないで
窓辺で囀って
何を失くしたって
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 Post subject: Re: Crowning one's self
PostPosted: Tue Jul 11, 2017 11:18 am 
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Frita grit her teeth as the monstrous creature made his way towards her. She moved backwards, knowing that this would soon force her into the ’loving’ arms of the thugs surrounding her. She heard a weird crackling sound behind her, followed by groaning and yelling. Looking behind her, the thugs had been frozen in place! She looked to find the source of their encasement, which the Rias’oyvee woman, causing a snowstorm to entrap the rest of the thugs. This was great, as it cleared her up to be able to actually move around the Whip. He was powerful beyond compare, but his speed was lackluster at best.

She tried to recall everything she knew about trolls; they were notorious for their strength, size and most of all, their incredible regenerative abilities. Supposedly they healed so fast, that if need be, they can rip off an entire arm or leg to use as a weapon, and the limb will grow back so fast that it won’t be at a disadvantage for more than a minute at absolute best. She’d heard that trolls were able to recover from any wound, regrowing their entire body from just a head! There were ways to get around it though; most importantly was conservation of mass. A troll couldn’t regrow large limbs without getting new mass from somewhere. As a result, trolls usually ate constantly to have as much regenerative potential at any given time (and because they were always hungry), but it WOULD run out eventually. A battle of endurance with a troll was generally ill advised though. The other much more practical solution was to use powerful fire or acid to burn the wounds of the troll. If a wound was hit with powerful enough fire or acid, the regeneration should stop, at least temporarily. Frita would be able to produce such fire, but it would take a lot of energy and a bit of time (especially if she wanted to get him alive), both of which she was short on. Last thing she remembered about trolls were that they were known to have huge egos and be rather stupid. That last bit might buy her some time.

“You don’t really look like any troll I’ve ever seen.” she tried, attempting to get the Whip to talk about himself as she gathered energy for a powerful fire spell, hoping he wasn’t magically attuned so he could notice. “Hah! Of course not. My kind is banned from human society, forced to live in the shadows. It’s not fair is it? So I changed myself to this hideous form, so you’d think I was an orc or something.” He snarled in disgust, his eyes full of hatred. “Maybe we wouldn’t ban your race from our cities if you’d stop enslaving and eating people?” Frita suggested accusatorily. The Whip scoffed. “Why should I show mercy to your kind, when you’ve shown me none? No, you don’t deserve to be treated with respect. You deserve to fall before me! I’m the stronger one! I should be in charge!” He was starting to grow agitated, but it was working. She only had to hold out for a bit longer, and then she could get him with a concentrated fire spell!
“It’s quite the scheme you’ve pulled, I’m impressed. It’s rare to see, woah!” Frita narrowly dodged out of the way of the Whip’s whip coming at her with incredible speed. She heard a splintering sound behind her, like glass shattering. Behind her, she saw about a dozen ice statues fall in a hundred pieces to the ground, destroyed by the Whip’s blow. Blood scattered everywhere from within the ice pieces, spraying the snowy nightmarishly red. Frita looked at the scene, feeling a rising nausea in her throat. The metallic scent of blood hitting her like a wall, as if hammering in the reality of the surreal deaths she was witnessing. Her eye caught Mouse’s. His arm and part of his stomach had been shattered and he was falling backwards. To Frita’s surprise it wasn’t pain or horror painted on his face, but rather betrayal and sadness. Frita instinctively touched the ground, sending a wave through it to soften the earth under the falling ice statue so it wouldn’t shatter against the ground.

Frita stood up straight and wiped a tear from her eye, spitting on the ground to try to alleviate her nausea. She felt fine though. The seething anger was quickly replacing her exhaustion and discomfort. “How could you!” she yelled. “They were your allies!” He grinned. “Allies? Yea, but so what? Ally is just another word for someone who is useful enough to keep around for now. They were worth less as soon as they got in the way of the whip though, ha ha!”

Frita felt herself shaking. She wanted to rush at him, pound at him and rip his throat from his body and watch the life drain from his eyes! The only thing stopping her was that it wouldn’t kill him. “RIAS'OYVEE! Freeze him!” She screamed, in the direction of the silver haired noble, who appeared to have been stunned by the sudden murder of the thugs. She took a deep breath, looking even paler than normal and nodded. She pointed her palm in the direction of the troll and ice crystals started rushing towards him, freezing his legs and starting to cover his body. He reacted quickly though, breaking the ice as quickly as it could form, and making his way towards her. “Don’t die now…” Frita said quietly, more as a prayer for the Silver haired noble than anything else.

Frita reached to her sheath and drew her sword, the Salamander, and started drawing two fingers across the back of the metal, as she spoke an incantation in a language, the exact meaning of which had been lost to the ages long, long ago. She used the energy she had planned to use for a powerful spell for immobilizing the fiend, to instead enchant the steel of her sword. The parts of her sword made from cooled magma soon started seething, once again becoming like the magma it remembered being. “Strike true Salamander.” a blessing and a promise, ending the casting and looking towards her target. He was striking at the silver haired noble, but she was using her flight to keep her distance. Her attacks weren’t quite keeping him in place though, and every time she froze him, he broke it a little faster. “You did well Rias’oyvee.” Frita said as she closed the distance between herself and the Whip in a moment, slicing upwards with Salamander, cutting straight through his whip wielding arm. He roared in anger and pain, clutching his arm for a second before clenching his teeth and striking down with his left hand to destroy Frita. The fist was met with another lightning fast strike from her sword, cutting his fist clean down the middle, the sword cutting directly between the two bones in the forearm. He howled in indescribable pain, trying desperately to push his split arm together against the wall to make it heal, but it was no use, because the spell on the sword had shorted out his regeneration. “Your actions are inexcusable! You cannot claim a high horse and then act like a monster. You are a hypocrite and a fiend, and I could not rest, knowing you got any justice other than death!” Frita’s eyes burned with intention, piercing into the Whip’s eyes, which showed nothing but terror and regret. Stepping forward, Frita swung Salamander, splitting the Whip’s head in twain and, for good measure, halving the pieces once more.

The pieces of the Whip fell to the ground with a squelching thud. What once was life, reduced to large pieces of meat, soon to be eaten by wild dogs and some of the most savage members of the slums. Frita ended her enchantments and sheathed Salamander, her anger fading fast. Looking around she realized how overboard this had gone. This could have been avoided in too many ways. Yet, once again, she’d ended up murdering her foe. As dark thoughts were running through her head she heard a man coughing. She snapped out of it as she realized there were injured. She rushed to Mouse, whose stomach wound seemed to have been larger at first glance than it actually was. She used quickly drying mud to keep it from bleeding and made sure the few other survivors, who had been caught in the whips trajectory, were going to live. Mouse, still lying on the ground, was crying. Frita didn’t ask why, but she vaguely understood the sentiment, regardless of the relationship the two men had had. She somehow felt like crying herself, taking a deep breath and letting the low sobs of the grown man speak for her as well.

_________________
On the one hand I want to improve myself with every chance I get, write, study and draw in every waking moment.

On the other hand I wanna just lie in bed and watch cartoons literally always.


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 Post subject: Re: Crowning one's self
PostPosted: Tue Aug 01, 2017 9:06 pm 

“Even if you can't see me, even if you can't hear me, I'll be by your side.”

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All Silva could do right then in that very moment was stand there, staring at the gut wrenching, the devastating aftermath that was left behind in the wake of the Whip's bloodlust filled fury. It was enough to make any with a weak stomach lose their lunch and those with a weak heart faint from the scene. Blood and carnage lay every which way, no matter where Silva looked, he saw red. Red mixed in with the mud, left over from the ice now melted away, red dying the snow that lay on the ground, yet to disappear. Moans of pain could be heard here and there, and Silva let his eyes wander, looking at everything, taking the sight in, and wishing at the same time he could erase this scene from his mind, from its very existence. But he could not, and there was nothing that he could do to fix this.

Figures lay here and there, some with wounds no bigger than a lost finger or a few cuts, but sadly others were not so lucky, their bodies lying in parts, limbs severed from torsos and heads detached. It was extremely gruesome, and Silva was left speechless. Even if he could speak, what was it that he would even say at a time like this? He wasn't so sheltered that he knew not of death, but this was the first time he'd experienced such a large scale fight. It hadn't meant to be like this, all these deaths weren't supposed to have happened. All Silva had wanted to do was look for his brother, and now he was standing in the wreckage left behind by what could have passed for a small sized skirmish. To be honest, he was too stunned to speak, too shocked to cry even. He could barely take in the air into his lungs, his breaths short and shallow, and the stench of the deceased and the blood that filled the air was starting to get to him.

Holding a hand to his head, his eyes focused on the woman that he'd helped defeat the large troll, now kneeling down next to the man that had bad mouthed his brother. The woman was using mud to keep the man from bleeding out and to be honest, Silva couldn't help but feel a bit of disgust at her attempts to keep that scum alive. After all, he had threatened Rune, and that was not something that Silva was just about to let slip by just because the ratty little man got hurt. He deserved to cry every one of those salty tears, deserved to grovel in the mud like a worm. Or at least, that was the sense of justice in which Silva was feeling right then. Yes, it was true that death was not to be dished out just because one thought another deserved it, as one was not to be the judge of life and death, and it was another fact that it was wrong to wish pain and confliction on others, but Silva did not heed these factors when it came to his family, especially his brother.

He focused his attention on the woman, who had saved his life. If she hadn't stopped the Whip, most likely he would have been a goner. That weapon of the troll had been moving too fast for even his trained eyes to see, so for this, Silva was grateful. Even so, he had to move on, as he had priorities to this. He didn't have time to lollygag around here and dawdle, he needed to get going, to finish the original task he had been sent on. The task of finding Rune. Stepping carefully through the carnage, Silva approaches the woman, and stops about four feet behind her, before speaking up, bowing low before standing straight again. "I thank you for getting things under control here. Though the losses are less than desirable, it was necessary to getting things under control. I wish that had not been the case, but there was no other choice. Though I'd wish to stay and help take care of the wounded, I must take my leave, as there are much more important priorities I must attend to immediately." He holds a hand to his chest in the way of parting in Rias'oyvee etiquette and mannerisms. Bowing once more, he then looks to her. "May the winds be swift at your feet, and may the sun always shine brightly o'er your path." This was a common parting saying that one might say to the other, in his race's words.

With this said, he turns on his heels, and begins to walk away, willing his mind to just forget that this had ever happened. He knew that once his father found out about this, he would get into serious trouble. No doubt his father would find ways to point fault in his direction, to peg the blame on Silva, his father always found a way for that. Sighing, Silva shook his head. There was no point in thinking about that right now, he had to focus on figuring out where Rune headed off too. Which thus led him to his next thought...why had Rune looked at him like that? With such...contempt...such hatred...? It made no sense, Silva had never seen such an expression on his brother's face like that before. He thought that it might have just been a trick of the light, or maybe it was an aftereffect for him bumping into that other man and almost falling...but then, if Silva really thought it over, that would just be wild guessing, a theory that probably would never have any solid fact to the matter. Shaking his head, he gazes up ahead, keeping his eyes ahead of him, and straining his vision as he looked around, trying his hardest to spot any hints, any signs at all of Rune.

_________________
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夢はこの部屋の中で
優しい歌をずっと君に歌っていた
何がほんとのことなの
一番強く信じられる世界を追いかけて
君の銀の庭へ

静かに寄り添って
何処にも行かないで
窓辺で囀って
何を失くしたって
♥Shadow_Heart♥

Click Me!


Here is a link to my: characters


Kimi no Gin no Niwa | +



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 Post subject: Re: Crowning one's self
PostPosted: Mon Aug 07, 2017 3:43 pm 
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The silver haired beauty approached Frita. She looked morose, cold and weighed by the situation, a lot like how Frita felt. She bowed to Frita, thanking her for her help and taking her leave in a courteous and regal manner. Given other circumstances Frita may have returned the sentiment, but instead she nodded understandingly, still treating the wounded. “I really hope you find your brother safe and sound. Be careful.” Frita wanted to say more, sound more professional, or just better, but… Her words were true, and any addition would somehow end up seeming false to her. She stood and reached a hand towards the sylvan girl who took it, somewhat awkwardly. “I’m Frita. I hope our paths cross again, under different circumstances.” The girl nodded and stepped back, turning to jump into the air, where she floated on.

Frita sighed as she finished making sure the thugs wouldn’t die, then turned to head back towards Shar to pick up her reward. She took Whip’s bloodstained weapon as proof of her job being done, and began walking. “Wait.” A raspy, strained voice pierced the silence. She turned to see Mouse, now sitting. He looked at her with a saddened expression. Frita swallowed, her body growing tense. Was she really going to have to deal with these guys? “… Thanks…” Frita froze for a moment as she looked at the injured man, thanking her. She wasn’t sure what to say. What could be said? She nodded respectfully, meeting his eyes with hers as she tried to convey that she understood, though she didn’t quite, what he’d been through.

Frita’s shadow grew long as she made her way down the main street of Tywa. Normally she would be able to admire the cavalcade of beautiful colours spreading across the sky, but the bleeding heavens could only remind her of the scene she’d left, and the scenes long passed, which smell and sound still appeared every time she drew her weapon.

“So! Did you find your luck?” A friendly voice came from above, snapping her out of her thoughts. It was the vendor of the ‘luck potions’, who smiled broadly at her. Curious, she thought to herself, as she remembered the curse of misfortune she’d placed on him earlier. “I’m… not sure.” She’d gotten what she came for, she’d been saved by one of the members of the Ryas family and she’d made it out of a bad situation unscathed. Perhaps she should price herself lucky. “Yea, I’m starting to wonder if these elixirs work or not. Darndest thing, while selling them, some bastard managed to steal some of my coin! Talk about misfortune!” Frita smiled at this, this vendor truly was lucky, someone had actually managed to steal the cursed coin from him before anything bad could happen. Looking at his big goofy grin, she honestly felt glad that it was the case. He could have gotten seriously hurt.

Frita shook her head, smiling, as she retrieved three silver pieces from her purse. “It seems karma is on your side today, I’d hate to find myself at a net negative.” He smiled broadly and started retrieving a bottle from his pack. “Keep it, I’m gonna make my own luck.” She said as she moved towards Shar, sighing relieved that she met the huge man. Sometimes it’s the smallest things that turn your day around, she mused to herself. The road to Shar was paved and easy to travel, and the beautiful pink and golden sunset reminded her of the warm embrace of a lover, as she made good time on this next step of her journey.

_________________
On the one hand I want to improve myself with every chance I get, write, study and draw in every waking moment.

On the other hand I wanna just lie in bed and watch cartoons literally always.


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