originally posted in:The New Dojo
[i][u]"We await thy return.
For the honor of Cainhurst."[/u][/i]
-Annalise, Queen of the forbidden castle Cainhurst, and ruler of the Vilebloods
[i][u]For Death Cometh For All[/u][/i]
[u][i]Dojoville, 5:59 PM
Irina, The Last Vileblood
Isaac, the Old Ranger[/i][/u]
[i]Massive, bristling crowds of men, women and children moved throughout the streets and sidewalks of Dojoville, the sky a beautiful orange as the sun had begun to set, the massive star in the sky slowly making its way down as darkness would soon fall upon the land, the moon slowly beginning to rise over the landscape as people continued to move throughout the city below the Dojo. Chatting, laughter and joy could be heard as civilians and soldiers conversed, even with the Twilight attacking, Názis invading, and even a new threat: something about a "Vileblood" and an "Executioner". Those who spoke of the two showed little fear, and some even threatened to find the ones that identified themselves by these names and "teach them a lesson".[/i]
[i]In fact, one man in particular thought this way, except he took it to the next level. A grisly, old New Californian Ranger, his mask hanging at his belt, which was slightly hidden by the tattered brown coat he wore over his kevlar and titanium suit of armor. He had only a Smith and Weston 500 Magnum at his side, loaded and ready to fire. His head was shaped quite sharply, his elderly face old and weathered, dark blue eyes staring intensely at the ones he was speaking to, his light grey goatee messy and unclean as if he hadn't shaved in years.[/i]
"I bet if I ever met one of them b*stards, they wouldn't even be able to react to me slamming a cap into their head!"
[i]The Ranger chuckled darkly as the men and women he was speaking to laughed abruptly, clearly satisfied by his grotesque sense of humor. To those that had known him, this man was Isaac, the creator of Ella and her assumed father.[/i]
[i]Of course, peace didn't last too long. It never did.
Suddenly walking out of the shadows of a darkened alleyway, a 6'3 foot tall, extremely thin woman began to approach the old Ranger, who had turned his head to the platinum blonde-headed beauty, her light blue eyes twinkling slightly as she walked right up to him, her black leather pointed hat covering her head, a pure white pigeon feather sticking out of the back. The woman's garb was dark leather as well, her shoulder pads, gauntlets and boots all leather and yet, finely crafted, as if they were from a foreign land. Waiting in its sheath was a rather impressive weapon: A 5'9 foot long straight katana sword, the blade of the weapon shining rather brightly, as if it had been cleaned recently. A dagger protruding from the end of the handle of the weapon, 2'6 feet long and also taken care of. On her back was a 5'4 foot long curved katana, and at her side was an adorned flintlock pistol. [/i]
"Well, hello there, beautiful. What's a pretty gi-"
[i]Isaac attempted to jokingly flirt with the newcomer, clearly not intimidated by her strangely fear-inducing presence. That was, until the woman suddenly drew her pistol, slammed the barrel into his neck before he could even react, and pulled the trigger, all of this happening in the blink of an eye.[/i]
[i]Civilians began screaming loudly as a gunshot sounded across the city, the NCR Ranger falling to the cold street, the bullet having gone straight into his brain.
One down. Many more to go.
Grinning madly, Irina sheathed her flintlock pistol and drew her Rakuyo, breaking the dagger away from the sword and beginning to rapidly spin into the crowds of innocents, cleaving through necks, limbs, bones and more as she kept up her wild grin of excitement. Five minutes later, the Vileblood Huntress stood upon the corpses of around sixty dead innocents. She ignored the blood dripping from her clothing and face as she began to make her way to the Dojo. [/i]
((Open as hell.
WARNING: IF YOU COME HERE TO FIGHT IRINA, YOU MAY OR MAY NOT PERMA-DIE. PLEASE INFORM ME IF YOU ARE ALRIGHT WITH THE POSSIBILITY OF A PERMANENT DEATH.))
English
-
[b]She wouldn't get far. Not on his watch. He had walked all of the goddamned Mojave, and crosses the Big Empty, just to see the man he'd been looking for get killed? The brass wouldn't be happy about this. They were low on Rangers as it was, having barely held on to Hoover Dam, just to have it ripped away by Mr. Z House and his bitchboy of a servant. Nevertheless, this other man walked towards the scene. He wore Ranger combat armor, practically identical to the dead Ranger's. All that changed was the metal that ran across the man's chest, a little extra insurance against any bullets that crossed paths with him. He drew his Ranger Sequoia, and aimed at her head. He squeezed the trigger.[/b]
-
[u]The sound of leather boots splashing in the pools of blood created by Irina's massacre can be heard approaching from behind. The sound of a face being crushed in can be heard as the unknown figure walks over the bodies of the fallen with no hint of caring, sickening snaps following as he crushed all that reside under his feet. The footsteps stop as the man halts in place about twenty feet away from the Vileblood, his gaze somehow burning into the back of her head as a feeling of unreasonable and inhuman hatred exudes from his dark figure. His whole body is clad in dark cloth, a cape of crow feathers hanging loosely around his shoulders. On his face is the pale mask of a crow, the glassy eyes creating a creepy unfaltering gaze. On his side is a large kukiri like dagger and a hunter's pistol. However, instead of reaching for either of those weapons the man draws a large mace from his back, slamming the head into a body nearby in a spurt of blood. Raising it above his head, he slams the strangely shaped weapon into the socket of a large saw, the strange thing about eight inches thick and a foot-and-a-half in diameter. Swinging it to the side, sparks fly off of the serrated blades as the weapon revs up with a shriek. The bodies and their blood begin to burn, creating a ring about fifty feet in diameter. At the tallest point the flames reach twenty feet, creating an arena of sorts to trap the last Vileblood. The man begins to speak, his voice quite and hoarse as if he spent many days and nights searching for the woman with no sleep or rest in-between.[/u] "[i]Well, well, well... What have we here? A Vileblood that's lost their queen and with her their purpose... There's nowhere left to run, my dear Irina. You will have to face my hatred for your people in full tonight, and pay what you owe me in [b]blood.[/b] Any last words? Oh wait...[/i]" [u]He begins to laugh with a shriek, what little sanity the man had quickly leaving in a rush.[/u]
-
[i]Hearing the pair of boots creating splashes of thick blood nearby, the Vileblood Huntress only turned her head, slowly turning her body and positioning herself to where the tips to her dark leather boots were pointed towards the Hunter of Hunters, the one that had dedicated himself to her demise, her death. A sickening grin of absolute insanity slowly crept upon Irina's previously light and pale face, her cheeks and forehead now covered in the blood of her victims, her once shining blonde hair stained with the red liquid as well. Her light blue eyes only stared with a burning hatred, her gloved hands tightening over the decorated handles of her weapons, both being held out at her waist, the dagger in her left gleaming with red blood and the blade in her right looking the same. Irina was infuriated by the remark that the Hunter dared to make, a look of utmost fury engulfing her face as she began to slowly approach Lothran, her bloodied boots being soaked even more in the red liquid under her as she began to break into a sprint, holding out both of her blades as she ran straight towards Lothran. [/i]
-
[u]Staring her down, the man stops laughing and grasps the strange weapon with both of his hands, lowering it to his side. Pulling a trigger under his palm, the blades spin up and tear through a body that resided under the saw blades, spraying blood in an arc around his body. As Irina got within striking range, he swung the saw upwards with the intent to slash the blade in a vertical attack through her body, the blades whirring violently and sparking as it becomes a blur of motion.[/u]
-
[i]Irina kept sprinting, becoming a literal blur as Lothran suddenly swung vertically. She lunged to the Hunter of Hunter's right, sliding against the bloodied ground and barely getting past the oncoming saw. She passed Lothran, sliding across the ground and turning back, a wild glint in her eyes as she shanked her Rakuyo together with a loud clang, the dagger now protruding from the hilt of the sword. Drawing a decorated Cainhurst-style pistol, the Vileblood aimed it at Lothran, grinning madly as she did so. [/i]
-
[u]Dragging the saw along the ground to use the momentum created by the swing, Lothran sprays a wave of blood towards Irina in an attempt to blind her. Chunks of bodies spray along with it as the saw messily minces the corpses that surround the blades, the sight disturbing to say the least. Under the cover of the mist of blood, Lothran charges, holding the whirring blades out in front of him as he charges.[/u]
-
[i]Being used to blood and gore, Irina simply ran through the flesh flung towards her, grinning sadistically as she weaved through the blood and flying flesh. The look of madness still present on her face. She jumped out to the right after the gore had been sprayed upon her, although blood covered her left eye and partially her right. She had leaped back to where she had dodged once more, but she was clearly tiring. Still, she raised the pistol in her left, firing a single bullet towards Lothran's stomach.[/i]
-
[spoiler]Continuing positions, yeah![/spoiler] [u]Having been charging at a low angle with his saw held in front of his body, the bullet slams into a flat part of the Whirligig Saw's front. As he flies towards Irina, he begins to jab upwards with the spinning blades towards her stomach in an attempt to cut her in half. Before he can reach her he slips with an oof, his low position causing him to fall out of balance at the collision of the bullet. Falling forwards, his saw careens it's way towards Irina's kneecaps, the blades screeching win a whir of steel./u]
-
[i]Sprinting towards Lothran as he slid, the Vileblood Huntress propelled herself first off the bloodied ground, and onto the metallic top of the spinning saw. Of course, since Lothran was moving at a rather fast pace and Irina leaped onto a moving object, she immediately lost her footing and fell over him, landing face-first into the blood and gore behind Lothran, rolling away from the Hoonter of Hoonters. Her already bloodied face was covered with more gore, which she wiped away with her left glove silently, beginning to circle Lothran.[/i]
-
[u]As the Vileblood vaults over Lothran, he attempts to stand but only manages to trip once again, falling head over shoulders. As he falls, his head slams into the flat round disc that covers the top of the Whirligig saw's inner workings. A crack rings out as the weapon spins away from him and he tumbles away, his body twisting in a manner of grotesque ways as he spirals along the ground. Coming to a stop, he begins to stand while propping himself up on his arms. Whilst in the midst of this whole predicament, pieces of his mask start to fall off, most of the ceramics shattered from the impact upon the weapon. Underneath the mask was a pale, weathered face, the skin stretched across the bones with little flesh underneath. From what little eye you could see, his eyes were a stone-grey blue, but most of the color was clouded out by little tendrils of white that covered most of the eye. Blood trickles down his face from a large incision on his forehead; not the blood that rest on the ground, but his own blood- a Hunter's blood. Gasping in pain as he stood up, he looks around in confusion at the startling scenery surrounding them. A look of pure terror moves across his face, his body frail and shaking.[/u] "[i]W-where am I? Excuse me, Ms? I don't believe I'm in any place that I remember, and I am honestly quite terrified of my current surroundings. Could you tell me what's going on?[/i]" [u]It seems the collision with the Whirligig saw did some sort of damage to his head, and he is no more threatening then a babe in the woods. Spinning around in circles as he tries to comprehend what's happening, it would be just as easy to strike him down here and now and be done with the whole affair of it all.[/u] [spoiler]-When you roll a critical failure and cri-[/spoiler]
-
[spoiler]Well...here goes nothing.[/spoiler] [i]The Vileblood Huntress truly couldn't comprehend how she had gotten so lucky in a situation that wasn't going in her favor. Stowing the Rakuyo away silently, Irina only grinned towards Lothran, a sick glint in her eyes as she began approaching, her boots bloodied and covered in mud. She only stared at Lothran, stopping when she was about three feet away from the amnesiac man. She didn't understand at all, but...it didn't matter. Lothran belonged to her now, that was for sure. He was simply a husk, with the weapons of a truly dangerous man. Irina didn't bother to kill him. She wanted to change him, manipulate him. This Hunter of Hunters...would serve her. She kept up her sickening grin, her pale blue eyes staring at Lothran's face casually. She raised a gloved hand to shake the Hunter's hand. Irina was an extremely manipulative person, so she had to act as if she actually cared for him.[/i]
-
[u]Smiling in return, Lothran raised his own hand and held it out, shaking Irina's with a firm grip seemingly impossible for one of such frail body structure. As the other half of his mask falls off, a single tear falls from his left eye as if it knows what's going on. Unbeknownst to the amnesiac, part of him was still alive... Trapped may it be, it could still see the events unfolding. A confused look crossing his face, he lets go of her hand to wipe the tears away.[/u] "[i]What is this strange feeling I have? My eye cries, and yet there is nothing to be sad about. I have met a new friend, and yet... I feel empty.[/i]" [u]Pondering the feeling, a personality clashes against restraints in his mind, struggling... Tearing at the bonds that chain it down. Tears run down it's face as it watches the allegiance and honor it had teared down around it.[/u]
-
[i]Irina didn't answer the previous Hunter's odd question, but not because she didn't know or because she couldn't speak: she just didn't want to tell him in general. A look of apparent sorrow and even...pity...crossed the pale face of the Vileblood, as she raised her left hand to wipe some of the blood on Lothran's own face off. In truth, this was all just a sickening bluff: she would have loved to run him through with her own fist, but...that would have to wait, for now. Lothran would have to be trained into a killing machine once more.[/i]
-
[u]Smiling, unaware of the manipulation going on behind this cruel woman's seemingly caring demeanor, Lothran cries tears of joy and confusion. Completely unaware of what's going on, or who he was and what he had been doing before, he thinks that he has found somebody that he can trust.[/u] "[i]I have not met anybody as nice as you in my lifetime, not since... Since...[/i]" [u]He scrunches up his eyebrows, trying to remember of the past events that led up to this meeting.[/u] "[i]Strange... I shan't be able to remember, and it scares me... I feel as if something's missing, crying out to me to say something's wrong.[/i]
-
Edited by Orn: 10/1/2016 7:36:59 PM[b] [/b]
-
[b]Destanius approaches.[/b] "Well this sure is an interesting scene. What the heck is going on?" [spoiler]Just wondering, are you alright with your character being wounded and such?[/spoiler]
-
Edited by Devious_Melons: 9/24/2016 10:02:15 AM[b]An old Hunter approaches.[/b] I killed you before, I'll do it again.
-
[i]Tilting her head slightly, the Vileblood was actually confused by the Hunter's words. She had never died. Ever. Unless he was referring to Lady Maria (which Irina was more than positive that Maria fell to the blades of a separate Hunter, one by the name of Lothran). It didn't matter, she was still going to murder the fool. Holding out both blades, she began approaching rather slowly, grinning madly.[/i]
-
[b]he draws a long thin blade and what appears to be a coach gun. He looks old and weathered, but ready to kill her, again.[/b]
-
[spoiler]Okay, when and where has this guy killed Irina? She's never died, so if you're trying to make it seem like he did (which considering how cute this guy is, I doubt it), he hasn't. So just cut it out.[/spoiler]
-
[spoiler]in his version of reality. Time is convoluted. This is Mathias. A Hunter, adept in bloodtinge and skill. His weapons are original.[/spoiler]
-
[spoiler]Yeah? I don't give a flying -blam!-. He hasn't killed Irina, no matter what. So quit acting like he has "in his reality" or some shit.[/spoiler] [i]Getting rather annoyed, Irina only stood in place, waiting.[/i]
-
[b]he steps towards her, taking his time and plotting his moves.[/b]
-
[i]Sithis sat on a bunch of dead bodies, seemingly having just appeared. He yawned, as he looked around.[/i] "Amateur." [i]He then grinned, and stood up[/i] "Looking to fight?" [spoiler]Cant really kill Sith, but go ahead and try. He wont go at full power, but may also try to reason with her, if she chooses to accept.[/spoiler]
-
[i]Irina only stared at Sithis darkly, tilting her head slowly as she squinted her eyes, remaining silent yet thirsty for more violence. In all honesty, she was dying for a proper fight, an actual challenge. Though this could be a handful. [/i]