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| Getting Noticed | |
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| Topic Started: May 5 2015, 08:22 PM (268 Views) | |
| Vash | May 5 2015, 08:22 PM Post #1 |
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Gross...
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The demon pulled at his hood, hiding his face, trying to go unnoticed as he walked through the pathways of the massive space station at the center of the Ruins of Cauldron. Suicide Station. Home to scum and scoundrels, you just can't find a concentration of pure evil quite like this any where else in the galaxy. Not even on Frieza was the populace filled with this kind of interstellar trash. Neon signs lit up the sides of the streets, inviting patrons to visit their tattoo parlors, bars, 'strip clubs,' and all other kinds of questionable establishments. Half of them most likely weren't even what they displayed themselves to be, rather fronts for even more illegal activities. Steam rose from the manholes, providing heat for the homeless and the junkies that lined the sidewalks with their makeshift homes crafted from empty cardboard boxes and newspapers. Actual garbage littered the entire ground, Vash stepped on empty bags of fast food and wrappers as he made his way through the crowded streets. He was blending in just as he had wanted. A dark, faceless figure in a sea of obscurity and discretion. "Hey baby, HACK HACK!" a slightly overweight, disease riddled prostitute coughed as he passed her by. She placed a disgusting, wart covered hand upon his shoulder. "You want a taste of this sweet candy?" Vash paused only long enough to remove her appendage and shot her a death glare that pierced right through her. He wanted to tell her what a piece of shit she was, that she needed to get off the streets, that she disgusted him to his very core... But what would the point be? Even if she did listen, it wouldn't be long before she would be right back to where she was. This was the jungle, and the trash that resided here would never escape. He had to find Rem, and the sooner the better. He felt like he needed a shower just walking around these people, and the feeling was only getting worse. His skin was crawling in disgust. He had a good plan, just nowhere to begin. That's when he spotted it. A little hole in the wall, run down bar. It was going to be a good a place as any to start looking for someone that held information. Once again tightening his hood, Vash took a sharp right and entered 'The Wampa Room.' Vash took a few steps down into the receiving room of the bar. Bass from the music was muffled through the thick walls that divided this room from the main bar. A large, imposing looking Changeling stood guard of the main door, checking all of the patrons for weapons before entering the main area of the establishment. It barely registered as a safety precaution, however, as Vash noticed that the patrons currently being checked before him slipped the bouncer a bribe and were allowed in regardless. It seemed that on Suicide Station, cash was king and ruled over the populace with an iron fist. Anything could be bought, for the right price. Vash took his turn before the bouncer, and slipped him a few bills to pass through with his weapons in tact. He didn't want to be caught off guard with nothing but his fists to protect himself. The Changeling bouncer smirked slyly and allowed Vash to pass through without so much as a pat down. The alien opened the door and motioned for the demon to enter. Vash walked into an incredibly smokey room. A house band was off in the corner playing some kind of god awful trendy music for the location. Scoundrels from all walks of life were scattered all around the dimly lit room, conversing with one another. Aside from a few stray visual inspections, Vash was able to march through the masses towards the bar largely unnoticed. It seemed like most of them were much too preoccupied with planning their heists and swapping stories of rape and murder with one another to bother with yet another piece of shit in their midst. If someone held information on Rem's whereabouts, one of these rats had to be it. The corner of Vash's lip smirked upward. Looks like I've come to the right place... he thought as he pulled a stool out from the bar and sat down. The hood from his black robe still covered his eyes, but the mystery didn't seem to stop the bartender, who walked right over and placed his hand on the bar right in front of the demon. This guy must have had balls of steel, operating an establishment such as this. To Vash's immediate right was a tall, muscular creature covered head to toe in a thick, brown fur. To his right, was a short, stout individual, humanoid, his skin completely tattooed, and his face must have had at least a dozen piercings in various places. Vash wasn't one to judge a book by its cover, but the patrons of this bar seemed like they would start some shit at any possible moment. "What'll it be, mistah?" the tender asked with a strange accent the demon was unfamiliar with. The demon was certain that this bar wasn't exactly excelling in the choices department. And the water looked like it would give someone a tapeworm. After looking at a few selections of bottled ale, he selected one that looked the safest to drink. The bartender slammed it on the bar and removed the cap. Vash paid the man and he went about his business, leaving Vash to his own. Vash took a long haul off of his glass bottle. The ale was cold and refreshing, exactly what he needed. A tiny bit dripped down the side of his lip, and he dabbed at it with a napkin that had been placed before him. He spun around on the stool and surveyed the concentration of shit heads that inhabited the bar on this night. The more he looked at the crowd before him, the more he felt awkwardly at home, like he fit in here. He could see bits of his own personality in just about every living being here. Now, all that was left to do was to pick out the rattiest looking person and interrogate him. Someone here had to know something. WC 1,055 |
![]() WIKI // THEME SONG 2015 ROLE PLAY OF THE YEAR WINNER!! | |
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| Rem | May 6 2015, 02:26 AM Post #2 |
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The Super Namek
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[align=center]<center><DIV id="scroll3" style="width:490; height:100; overflow:auto; border: 2px solid; text-align: center; vertical-align: text-bottom; background-image:url('http://puu.sh/juatU/2b02a867a8.jpg'); font-weight:bold; color:darkblue"> <br><SELECT style="background-color: #83F52C; color: #000000; font-family: Lucida Calligraphy; font-size: 14px; width: 200px; "><br /><OPTION>Rem</OPTION><br /><OPTION>"NO CHANCE!"</OPTION><br /></div><br /><OPTION>Power Level: 707,000</OPTION></div> </DIV></center>[/align] | |
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| Vash | May 7 2015, 03:36 AM Post #3 |
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Gross...
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The crimson typhoon took another drink off of his ale. It certainly wasn't the best he had ever tasted, but considering the space station he was on, he could have selected something far worse. As his eyes left the beverage and returned to the room of scumbags before him, he felt a tap on his shoulder. It was strange, his hood covered most of his face so he shouldn't have been able to have been recognized. "hey..." an unfamiliar voice spoke in his right ear. Vash barely turned his head, instead only shifting his eyes to get a good look at the person interrupting him while he was only looking for peace and quiet. "I don't like you..." the voice continued. This warranted a full head turn. The demon eyes the nuisance up and down. It was an older warrior, probably in his fifties. A long scar ran down one side of his face, just below his gray hairline. He was wearing tattered robes and scuffed up boots. His eyes were a faded shade of brown. It was clear to the demon, just by getting a look at him, that he was a grizzled war veteran, and had a short fuse. Vash wasn't sure what he possibly could have done to offend the guy, but was getting more and more curious to find out the exact reason. He decided he would have a little fun with him, and see how far he could take this. "I'm sorry to hear that," he replied casually as he turned his attention back to his beer. "my friend, he doesn't like you either!" the veteran continued, gettin more and more ornery by the second. With a raised eyebrow, Vash inspected his friend up and down. He was some kind of species that Vash was unfamiliar with. Suicide station was full of creatures from all walks of life, and Vash was barely surprised that he didn't know exactly what this particular breed was. The veterans friend stood nearly eight feet tall and had a face similar to a walrus with two large tusks poking out of it's extended jowls. Two large muscular arms jutted out of his sleeveless shirt, only to turn into a pair of crustacean like claws. It mumbled something completely incoherent, but the veteran appeared to understand completely, and began to translate the growls in suit. "haha, yeah, you better be more polite addressing him, he's wanted for the death penalty on three different systems!" the loud war veteran explain, further getting on Vash's nerves. His patience for them as well as this pathetic conversation was growing incredibly thin with each syllable spat from the mans lips. if their intention was to try an I intimidate the demon, it certainly wasn't working. They didn't know just who they were dealing with. With a sarcastic grin and an even more sarcastic shrug of his shoulders, Vash looked at the two thugs very slyly. "I'll be more careful," he said, egging them on even further. "you'll be dead!" the ugly man said, his heartbeat visibly throbbing in his scar with frustration. Clearly, Vash's sarcasm and dismissive attitude towards the both of them had broken their last nerve. The weird walrus aliens frustration got the better of it, and it reached out with its crustacean claw and grabbed Vash on the shoulder. This was the wrong move to make. Surrounded in a sea of scum, Vash wasn't about to let anyone push him around. He had to assert dominance in order to send the message to any possible onlookers that he wasn't messing around, and he certainly wasn't the person to fuck with. In the blink of an eye, Vash stood from his stool and, in the same fluid motion, withdrew one of his swords and separated the aliens arm from the rest of its body. The clawed arm fell to the floor, it managed to even wiggle around for a brief moment before it lay limp on the hard wood covered in its own thick, green blood. Blood continued to spur from the open wound on the aliens body like water from a hose, almost an unnatural amount of blood. It soaked the elder warrior head to toe as the alien gargled in pain. It was it's way of screaming in agony, but it's vocal chords produced a low pitched growl instead of a standard scream. The creature dropped to its knees, staring at its Lost appendage that now lay lifeless next to him. The scarred man sprung into action, withdrawing a blade of his own. It appeared to Vash that the bouncer was really doing a stand up job, at least he was getting enough bribe money to support his steroid habit. The room had fell completely silent for a brief moment, as all eyes focused on the violence that was being unleashed in the cramped conditions of the bar. A circle had formed around the now two and a half of them, no one wanting to tangle with Vash or the other two. The best part about places like these were that strength governed over everything. Alliances were non existent for the most part and rightfully so. If you couldn't handle your own shit then your life would be short lived a and most likely filled with pain. As it should be. The strong would rise and the weak would be culled. That was the order of things and the basis for everything Vash believed in. Finally, the walrus creatures insufferable groans were negated to a whimper. And not a moment too soon, for his sake. Vash wasn't sure how much longer he could take that god awful noise before he snapped and ended the things life right then and there. Then again, at this point, it looked like he might not have a choice in the matter. The sword weilding veteran charged forward, hacking and slacking with a precision Vash wasn't yet accustomed to. He himself was still getting used to the intricacies of sword fighting, and hadn't had a proper challenge yet. If he was going to be completely honest with himself, he had gotten lucky with his opponents thus far. With his mind, he grabbed a hold of a bar stool and flung it at the veteran to slow him down. The man slashed right through the stool, sending splintering shards scattering through the room. Another stool was sent his way, with the same result occurring. Vash leapt backwards, the crowd parting, making room for the fight to continue. The crowd was getting rambunctious, cheering the two combatants on as they crossed steel with one another. Sparks flew off of their blades as they clang against one another, Vash parrying the oncoming assault the best he could. The demon, with cat like reflexes, jumped over a slash aimed at his kneecaps. The veteran was obviously more skilled with a blade than Vash was, and was quick with a second strike. As soon as his boots hit the hard wood floor, he ducked, narrowly dodging a slash that could have decapitated him. It was so narrowly dodged in fact that a few strands of hair were severed in the process, lazily floating in the beams of light that shines through the windows of the establishment. Vash was taking mental notes. He had to get a feel for the ebb and flow of sword fighting. It was an intricate and intimate dance, the duel. There we're gives and there we're takes. A step here, a stab there, it surprised him how rhythmic the entire experience was. A boot to his midsection sent him stumbling backwards. The sword was now awkward in his hand, he couldn't find his balance with the weight of it pushing down on one side and he fell on his back. The crowd gasped in anticipation, awaiting the killing blow from the now grinning veteran. Vash had seen that look before. In himself. When he knew he had the kill in his sights, exactly where he wanted it. The same cold, calculating smile that uncontrollably stretched across his own face he was now staring at. An image of Rems visage flashed Into his mind. What would his one time mentor think of him? To see him in such a precarious situation, about to be killed, in front of a cheering crowd no less. The veteran lunged in the air, preparing himself for the killing blow. Time slowed down to a grindin halt. Vash could hear his own heartbeat busting through his chest. No. He refused to let this be the end to his story. Vash quickly rolled to his left and scrambled up to one knee. The veteran warrior plunged his sword into the hard wood floor, more shards of wood sent spiraling through the air from the viscous impact. A quick pulse of light shot out like a shockwave, blinding everyone in the room, including his opponent. Screams of pain from the burning of retinas sounded out like an alarm through the bar. Vash smiled. Victory was at hand. Once gain using his telekinetic prowess, Vash grabbed the severed arm of the walrus creature and wrapped the crustacean claw tightly around the sword weilders throat. The screams from the crowd turned to applause and cheers, they were surprised at the sudden turn of events. Vash stood tall to his feet as the man before him clutched at his friends severed arm that was now crushing the life from his windpipe. The walrus alien could only look on in horror as his own arm was now killing his own friend. Vash confidently walked over and shoved his sword through the walrus creatures chest, his body fell limp, sprawled out on the blood stained floor. The room fell completely silent. The demon walked towards his helpless, choking prey. With cold, dead eyes he looked his victim down. "I guess you shouldn't have fucked with me," he said in a monotone voice. "maybe next time you won't lose your head," with a wave of his hand, the claw closed tight, and cut the man's head clean off like a pair of scissors snipping through paper. "well, if there was a next time," he chuckled as the head fell from the mans next and hit the floor with a thud, breaking the silence of the bar. For a minute, the bar remained completely silent and still. Nobody moved or said a word. It was actually quite peaceful. Vash stood before his kill like a lion guarding it's meal. A quick slash with his sword removed the blood that still soaked his blade. A fancy spin and he placed his weapon back in its sheath. The steel whistled as it slid nicely into its home at his side. Vash's eyes scanned the room once more, and once again the bar filled with music and laughter and conversation, as if nothing happened at all. The patrons went back to their business. A pair of service droids came to collect the bodies and clean up his mess. "another beer mistah?" the bar tender asked in that same, awkward accent. Vash flashed him a smile and a nod and took his seat at the bar once more as a glass bottle was placed before him. He took a drink off of it and placed it back down on the bar, and began to laugh to himself. i think I'm going to fit in around here just fine... he thought to himself. All of that trouble and he still wasn't any closer to rem. But hey, at least he got a couple of drinks out of it. And he made his presence on suicide station known. Wc 1951//3006 |
![]() WIKI // THEME SONG 2015 ROLE PLAY OF THE YEAR WINNER!! | |
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| Rem | May 7 2015, 05:09 PM Post #4 |
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The Super Namek
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Siberius: Lord of Cauldron//Proprietor of Suicide Station. ![]() Rem and company had been living in the hotel for a week when they got a rather interesting visitor. He wasn't the first visitor they'd had; in fact, once word got out that someone was bankrolling three entire floors of the newly renovated hotel, all sorts of salesmen, conmen, and riff raff started coming around. A couple tall, imposing Namekian doormen were usually enough to steer most away, but when not Rem himself would deal. So far, they hadn't really had any trouble. The sight of a sharp dressed Icosian stepping out of the elevator at the end of the hall gave Rem doubts that their lack of trouble would continue. He really loathed the race, having met few who had redeemed his opinion of the lot based on the combined eons of history in which the race had promulgated evil and destruction. Rem, dressed in fine military style uniform that a Passenger Liner captain might indeed wear, stood and waited for the being and his two Namekian escorts as they strolled down the hall. Their was a calmness to the Icers face that bespoke a confidence Rem really didn't feel he should possess. He found out why the being seemed to stroll around as if he owned the place a few moments later. "Captain Sorreh, if I'm not mistaken." The Icer spoke first, stepping in front of the escorts and offering a hand for Rem to shake. Obligingly, the emerald skinned warrior did so. "Hm, strong grip. I like that. Come, come. No reason to stand around in the halls. Let's take refreshment in one of your rooms, hm?" Rem stared at the man for three seconds, trying to weigh and measure him with his eyes, before responding. "Quite right. I'll have room service run us up...." Rem began, but was cut off. "No need, I called ahead. The kitchen should be nearly finished with our meals. They'll send it up shortly." Again the man smiled, warmly, as if it was no thing that he had somehow coopted the kitchen staff at a hotel that he wasn't even a resident at. Within moments they were sitting face to face in a couple oversized leather chairs, wine being dolled out by one of the Vagril who seemed to enjoy the position of manservant. "Now, Captain Sorreh. Let me explain why I've come." The icers right hand moved to a breast pocket and removed a thick, almost metallic business card. He handed it to Rem with little fanfare. The Namekian scanned it, paused, then looked up in surprise. "Yes, you see... I wanted to welcome you to my little, humble space station. I was surprised you hadn't come to see me, as a matter of fact. Now, I realize you've just arrived and between all the moving and the repairs, it must have simply... shall we say, slipped your mind, to pay respects. I take no offense. However, I must relay my concerns on a few matters." "Wh... oh?" Rem asked, trying to figure out what the hell he had just stepped into. "You see, we have three truly minor problems that I see. The first is your..." At this, Siberius' face darkened, and his voice took on an ominous tone, "Entire bullshit story." "Excuse me?" Rem asked. "I will, Captain Sorreh," the way he said it made Rem realize Siberius knew that wasn't his actual name. "First, your manifest. Are you truly expecting anyone to believe that a Passenger Liner is carrying an entire crew and passenger compliment of Namekians? Penny penchers that your race is, I find it truly hard to believe that a cruise ship could survive on Namekian patronage. Second... Your ship and company are listed as being based out of Ippen. Now, i've some contacts on that world and I can assure you, there is no Silverfish IV OR Cosmic Travels LLC registered on that world. Now, I can respect your desire for descretion and won't attempt to force you to give me your real name and ship ID... Thats not what we do here on Suicide Station. However, its the third thing we have the actual problem with. You see... Suicide Station security is provided by, well, me. Yet, here you are with a force of your own PERSONAL security, on a small station. A more suspicious being might think you were organizing a coup, or pirate attack. Tsk... Tsk.... "I can assure you..." Rem began, but was cut off once more. "Oh, don't bother with assurances." Siberius waved the comment off like a pesky fly. "After all, im sure we can make recompense. Ive seen your receipts for this hotel, quite a hefty sum... And the repair bill on that warsh... PASSENGER Liner, is absolutely mind boggling. I'm sure you'll have no problem meeting my contract requirements for a security force to be installed... for your protection, of course." -937 |
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[align=center]<center><DIV id="scroll3" style="width:490; height:100; overflow:auto; border: 2px solid; text-align: center; vertical-align: text-bottom; background-image:url('http://puu.sh/juatU/2b02a867a8.jpg'); font-weight:bold; color:darkblue"> <br><SELECT style="background-color: #83F52C; color: #000000; font-family: Lucida Calligraphy; font-size: 14px; width: 200px; "><br /><OPTION>Rem</OPTION><br /><OPTION>"NO CHANCE!"</OPTION><br /></div><br /><OPTION>Power Level: 707,000</OPTION></div> </DIV></center>[/align] | |
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| Rem | May 7 2015, 08:43 PM Post #5 |
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The Super Namek
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Even as Siberius was walking out of the room, Jen was appearing from another one further back. "What in the hell was that about?" She asked, eyes wide. "We just got shook down and put in our place." He said pretty simply. "Can... can that ugly little thing do that?" Jen asked. Rem looked down into his wine glass, swirled, then took a drink to finish it off. "I'm not sure... I guess we'll find out." "Paryl, stay here with Jen. I'm going to go check on progress with the ship. I have a feeling we're going to need to get the hell out of here sooner rather than later." A few minutes later the Namekian was strolling through the corridors of Suicide Station. He hadn't yet gone to the inner sections, and had basically banned his crew from it. He didn't want anyone getting mixed up with the gangs, or gambling, drugs, and violence that pervaded this place. He figured as long as they all stayed together, out of the way, they could get through their time here without much fuss. Apparently, he had been wrong about that. Soon enough, he was back in the docking section. The ship looked like a science experiment. He could see through holes in the hull that had been caused when the crew had ripped away thinned or damaged plating. Control panels were removed, soon to be replaced with upgrades or general replacements following various fire and electrical damage. He grimaced. He didn't think the Quixote would be ready to go anywhere anytime soon... 304 -1240 -4200+ |
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[align=center]<center><DIV id="scroll3" style="width:490; height:100; overflow:auto; border: 2px solid; text-align: center; vertical-align: text-bottom; background-image:url('http://puu.sh/juatU/2b02a867a8.jpg'); font-weight:bold; color:darkblue"> <br><SELECT style="background-color: #83F52C; color: #000000; font-family: Lucida Calligraphy; font-size: 14px; width: 200px; "><br /><OPTION>Rem</OPTION><br /><OPTION>"NO CHANCE!"</OPTION><br /></div><br /><OPTION>Power Level: 707,000</OPTION></div> </DIV></center>[/align] | |
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