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Post by Sprite on Sept 10, 2012 18:12:01 GMT -5
Vasil's hand chop struck the electrician's outstretched prongs. As soon as his skin made contact with the cold metal of the prongs, there was an odd sound, like plastic or rubber being pulled too far too fast.
In the next instant the errant Prince was lit by a blue glow as Sam had been and knocked back a couple steps. He coughed once and spat a sparking glob of saliva to the ground, a cruel smile crossing his face.
"Interesting! But not good enough you insolent fuck."
Vasil gestured towards his opponent's appendage that had just been struck for a moment by Vasil's karate chop. There was a clear indentation where Vasil's hand had struck, but the entire appendage was disfigured and deformed. It was similar in appearance to a candle that had been superheated for an instant before being rapidly cooled again.
"Now that you've had a small taste of my royal venom, I'll send you to sweet oblivion with an ample dose, vasisisisisisisi."
Putting his gloved fists up in the manner of a boxer, Vasil began weaving side to side as he approached the suited electrician. In a few moments he began to blur, weaving in and out of vision as the speed and technique of his footwork made it appear as if there were multiple zebra-coated princes moving aggressively towards Sam's captor.
Closing in, Vasil appeared solidly just inside the electrician's guard [past his outstretched hand] and thrust forward with a hand, his finger all rigid and together as if he intended to simply stab clean through the electric menace's chest. Although, the accented electrician would find his suit, and anything inside would show very little resistance to Vasil's hand thrust, as if his entire body had just become extremely soft or frail.
"Serpent Green."
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Post by Kyubey on Sept 13, 2012 16:57:45 GMT -5
Elsewhere on the Grand Line...
To say that the pirate who spent all his time sitting by the docks of Bellyache Town and drinking awful-tasting rum was a menace to society was a little too kind. It had been nearly a month since he arrived on the shores of the island, his lonesome wayward boat already halfway to Davy Jones' Locker. The man, who anyone could tell was a pirate from the way he looked and held himself, spent a total of ten minutes finding a good perch for himself, then sat there and dedicated his time to the practice of wasting away. During the afternoon hours he would vanish, and where he went during this time nobody could tell, although at a certain hour he would always appear at the local pub, stayed there until he was thrown out, then walked straight over to his spot on the docks. Several times, the authorities of Bellyache town and the townspeople alike tried to get him to leave, by force or by reason, but no matter their methods, they were quickly sent away by a quick drawing of a cutlass and a surprisingly fierce scowl. If it wasn't for those instances, one might never have guessed that this pirate was worth anything. It was only when he was approached that he showed any hint that perhaps, some time ago, this pathetic wretched joke of a pirate was once a fearsome and powerful sailor.
The loathsome drunk was far less trouble than the ruthless cutthroat, so, for the most part, the townspeople let the miserable creature alone, which was exactly what he wanted during those evenings. His smell was awful, the drunken songs he would sing were just as bad, and the townsfolk ended up surrendering that corner of the docks to him, but as long as he remained there and kept to his own business, it was a small price to pay. This was how empty rum bottles began to pile up around his little space, Qwerty found himself a decent place to stay, and the public menace became a local annoyance.
---
This evening began like any other. The setting sun reflecting off the familiar dancing waves, coupled with the effects of the rum, were a source of comfort to Qwerty. It was a small comfort, but it was the only comfort he had left. He was well aware of how deep he had sunk, and how disgraceful it was that a warrior such as he was nothing more than a pathetic beggar on an island so dull that even the weakest of pirates didn't bother with it, but as long as he had the smells and sounds of the ocean nearby and the taste of drink on his lips, then he could get by. It was a simpler way of life, one that he was rather glad he found. None of that nonsense about revenge, and none of those supposed friends that were really only painful memories in the making. All he had to do was beg a little for his rum and occasionally shout at the stupid-as-hell commoners to shut up so he could continue his drunken songs in quiet. If he was in a good mood, which he hardly ever was, he would even make them sing along with him.
"Fifteen men on a... aw, fuck it."
This day, he was certainly not in a good mood. His scraggly hair got in his face too much, the rum seemed to get worse with every bottle, and now he was certain there wasn't a single inch of him that wasn't covered in grime, smeared with dirt, or clogged with seawater. Then there was that dumb cat. The cat that just appeared that day, right out of nowhere. The cat that, for some reason, make a clanging sound as its tiny paws hit the pavement. The cat that wouldn't scram no matter how loudly and angrily he screamed at it to go away. And now, to make the day even more terrible, the cat's stupid little claws were tearing into Qwerty's skin.
Just perfect.
---
Morrison hadn't fully expected to find Qwerty, the man who killed his teacher, on this tiny little nothing of an island. It had been a while since he had left the Phantom Hawks for good, and during this time he had several notable experiences, but he failed to find any rumors that lead him to Qwerty. In fact, almost nobody he asked knew about the pirate. There was some rumor that Qwerty had been spotted in Mock Town, but Morrison already knew that to be untrue. If Qwerty had ever been there, he left a long time ago. There was another rumor that the pirate had died not far from Water 7, and for a time, Morrison believed that. It was the best explanation for the pirate to be completely gone for two years. Then, Morrison heard a story about a lonesome drunken pirate that spent his days annoying the people of Bellyache Town, and, for some reason, he thought to investigate. Sure enough, there was Qwerty, all alone. He looked different, somehow even dirtier than he was when he killed Moisant, but the sound of his harsh, scratchy voice was all the proof Morrison needed. Just seeing that man filled the cat with old, bitter memories, and he wasted no time in fulfilling the mission he had in mind for years.
Qwerty reacted rather quickly for a drunk, staggering backwards and into a standing position before the claws could do any meaningful damage. Morrison crouched and arced his back, hissing at his sworn enemy. Surely just the feeling of his razor-like claws was enough to show that he was not a normal cat. It would be nice if he could frighten his opponent before he continued his assault. Cats liked to play like that.
Instead of recoilng with fear like Morrison wanted, Qwerty simply scowled and picked up his cutlass, before going into something of a fighting position. Morrison responded by running straight at the opponent, and was met with a few deft sword strokes, which clashed uselessly against his steel body. Qwerty was undoubtedly a talented swordsman, obviously having been trained by a talented teacher. He had both skill and power in his strokes despite being out of practice, but anything he could do was ineffective against a target like Morrison. The cat could see the attacks coming long before they connected, but he didn't bother to dodge, or even give Qwerty the courtesy of reacting to the blade. He stayed on the same path, and, once he was within range, dug his claws into the pirate's leg. Qwerty growled and tried to shake the cat off him, but Morrison hung on, doing further damage to the ankle.
"Fuck!" he screamed, before delivering a kick to his opponent's side. After a nice loud thumping sound, he cried out with pain again and grabbed at his foot. Morrison released the ankle, which was already dripping with blood and badly wounded, and backed off. Now, the victim couldn't run. Revenge wouldn't be satisfying if it was done swiftly. It was already bad enough that Qwerty was clearly no longer the man he was when he murdered Moisant, it would be a shame if it was over in a matter of minutes. Morrison could at least entertain himself by prolonging the battle as much as he could.
"You..." Qwerty coughed out, pointing right at Morrison. Perhaps the rum made him think he could communicate with a cat. Of course he was right, but the sight was still odd. "Yer... yer Moisant's cat, yeah? Yer his kitty, right?"
Morrison stopped. He didn't quite know what to expect from encountering Qwerty, but he didn't expect to be recognized. Just the fact that Qwerty knew Moisant well enough to remember the name was shocking.
Upon seeing the cat's hesitation, Qwerty laughed horribly. "I knew it! I thought so! Yer his fuckin' kitty, alright! Ya look just the same as ya did years ago! Except for the metal, and all, and I don't remember his cat bein' so mean, but I don't give enough shits about your story to ask about that."
"Mrow?"
This got another laugh, this time a small chuckle. "Eh, this is the Grand Line, any crazy shit can happen. Well, I bet yer wonderin' about some things. Maybe I can help. Hell, I ain't got nothin' to do. I can talk. Unless ya just wanted revenge, in which case, we can have at it anytime."
Morrison retracted his claws, to show he was listening. He hadn't planned for this, but as long as Qwerty was willing to give answers, then revenge could wait a few minutes.
"Huh, so yer really listening, huh? Fuck. Well, I'm a man of my word, unlike some people. Let's see... outta all the people I hurt or killed, Moisant's the only one I remember who had a cat. That's how I knew who you were. He got a cat after I was friends with him, though."
The last sentence made Morrison tense up, which Qwerty apparently noticed.
"Yeah, I was friends with your ol' master. Fuckin' bastard didn't even mention me to you, ain't that just somethin'. Well, we weren't friends very long. It's a wonder ya were able to find me at all. I used to be quite the sea devil, but that was before your time, I'd reckon. I wasn't always a lonely poor fucker scrounging for coins. I once had a whole crew of bastards itchin' for a fight. Fuck, I used to be out for revenge, just like you were, little guy. It was during this time that I met Moisant. He was a thief back then, not just some old guy livin' at home with a goddamn cat. I'd ask what happened to him to make him stoop so low, but, well, look at me. Anyways, Moisant was my shipmate for a time. He stayed on my boat for a while, we shared drinks together, killing each other was the farthest thing from our minds. Some times, he would try to get me away from the whole revenge thing. he said it was bad for me, that even if I found the guys I was looking for and carved 'em to pieces, it wouldn't do me any good. He was always weird like that. He talked about settling down every now and again, and sometimes he tried convincing me to do the same. Of course I fuckin' wouldn't do that. Anyways, it came time for him to leave the crew, but he wanted to go on one last adventure with me. What he didn't say was that that 'adventure' was a fucking trap. That was the last time I saw him. I remember, his last words to me was something like, 'this is for your own good.' Heh, it probably was. As you can probably guess, I'm not a man who doesn't have any regrets.
I got outta the trap, but only 'cause I was lucky, and things didn't go so well after that. I lost a bunch of times, to guys I would've torn apart before. I was beaten down more than I was able to so much as get a hit in. And then, everyone was just fuckin' gone. My brother, Kate, my whole fuckin' crew, Connor, even that fuckin' Shikabooki, everyone I was ever friends with, they were all dead. I was the only fuckin' man left, when I was the guy that deserved it the least. My plans for revenge? Fuckin' shot. I was low. Not as low as I am now, but I was on my way there. I got angry. So, I thought, since everyone else that I had ever cared about was dead and buried, I might as well just go ahead and complete the fucking set. Pitiful, I know, and not something I'd normally do, but it was the only fucking sense of payback I would ever get. That's why I killed him. Does that make you feel any better, kitty? Does that give you any closure? Don't bother answering, 'cause I don't give a fuck."
Morrison stayed silent, and simply stared up at the pirate. Then, he pulled out a small piece of paper and his pen, and wrote out:
Are you done?
Qwerty grinned and held up his sword. "Yeah. I like you, kitty. Yer the most fun I've had for a long time now. Let's go, I'm fuckin' tired."
The short, clear sound of metal striking metal rang throughout the docks.
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Post by Shark a' Pult on Sept 17, 2012 16:34:26 GMT -5
When the Prince started on his approach, the electrician took a precaution he deemed necessary. Opting to electrocute Sam once more with a flicker of his bulb, the effect this time was a little different. There wasn't any indication of pain though her hair began to stand out, and when he shrugged her off of his arm she did not fall down to the ground, rather to the wall instead as if gravity was pulling her that way. Landing with an "-oof!", she tried to get up and perhaps run away even, but to no avail. It was like she had been shackled to the wall and when she looked, she was indeed chained to it by electric links which if she struggled too hard against, shocked her quite painfully.
When the electrician turned back however, he was immediately met by the Prince's punch. A shower of wires and coils, shreds of suit and an unknown black substance flew outwards from the impact point as the enemy's fist bored straight into it. Vasil would suffer a nasty shock from this, but apart from staggering a little from the force, the electrician seemed relatively nonplussed. Instead, he merely straightened up with both arms extended to the sides.
"Fzzz-hzzz-hzzz-hzzz! Most unwise. Insect, meet..."
With the strange laugh, the lightbulb for a head glowed quite a deal. Despite one of his arms being quite wonked from the previous attack, he brought both pronged hands inwards to meet in the center at Vasil's head. The prongs were spaced out well enough on the already big plug hands that chances were unless the Price was a freak, his head would fit between them rather nicely. The intent was that with Vasil's arm lodged inside his torso, he could easily trap his head in the prongs and pass between them a current as of yet unseen.
"...zapper."
Because a complete circuit had been made with Vasil's head, the onset current did not even need to be all that great, for the Prince to merely lose control of his body and start convulsing. Of course the current was massive however, enough to kill most anyone.
Then again the Prince was not most anyone.
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Post by Sprite on Sept 19, 2012 18:04:59 GMT -5
"Hm?"
Vasil was a bit perplexed, seeing as his attack had connected cleanly and his opponent did not hesitate or falter for even a moment. He caught the blur of motion as Sam was anchored against a wall on the other side of the room, and resolved it was time to tear his opponent to shreds and be off with his property.
Before he could extricate his arm however, the inhuman electrician brought his pronged hands up on both sides of Vasil's immaculately groomed head. The violent prince merely sneered as he began pulling his arm free.
"Give it up now you disgusting inhuman trash. You've already lo-"
His eyes widened as the current was unleashed on him. Vasil's body convulsed and shook violently as his teeth chattered and the lenses on his sunglasses cracked and popped out. Smoke began to rise from his form as he eventually seemed to go limp, still standing.
It seemed that the Prince had been knocked unconscious from the attack, with his eyes having rolled back into his head. After a moment however, he stirred, his eyes coming back into place as he fixated a deathly burning glare on his opponent.
Slowly bringing his free hand up to his head, Vasil felt for his perfectly groomed, gelled, and slicked back hair. Instead, it seemed that the voltage had done an usually good job of giving him a haircut. The hair on the sides of his head had completely burned and fallen off, while the middle section had been left whole, but raised stiffly into a row of jagged spikes by the electricity. The Prince looked good with a mohawk.
Veins stood out on Vasil's neck and forehead as he gritted his teeth, eyes going wide as he let out a feral roar of pure anger. With a splattering noise, a large hole was promptly opened up in the middle of the bounty hunter's suited chest as Vasil's venomous touch further liquified the matter of his opponent's body. Spreading his fingers apart in the now open cavity of his opponent, Vasil drew his hand back and began clawing and tearing at his foe with reckless and savage abandon.
The Prince's rage seemed to give greater potency to his odd liquifying touch, the very air surrounding his arm seemed to be thickening like a clear opaque jello, and it was apparent that the slightest touch from Vasil's hand would most likely be enough to slough off an arm as if it were a wet bundle of paper.
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Post by Shark a' Pult on Sept 23, 2012 2:27:07 GMT -5
"Hey I'm not human, does that make me trash?!"
Sam called out from her position of being stuck to the wall, feeling as though she should be offended by what the Prince was saying. There wasn't anything she could do about it really though, stuck there as she was.
The electrician on the other hand, had a world of problems all his own. To his confusion, it seemed that passing a direct current right through Vasil's head produced a laughable effect at best. This was something that could cut through metal, but the foul mouth appeared to take it in stride. The amount of power would just need to be amped up, but he didn't get much a chance. As he attempted to channel the necessary electricity for the next attack, the Prince needed no such preparation time and right to work ripping into the electrician. As more and more of the suit was ripped up, less and less was the capacity to remain active, let alone channel it.
As he went ripping and tearing, the electrician attempted just to slam punch him back, but an unforeseen consequence triggered; Vasil tapped right into the core grid for the suit. The result was violent and without warning, as all the latent energy that was contained therein now had nothing holding it back, and the spark of life in the suit leapt forth at the closest thing it could. To an observer, it looked like a fairly large orb of lightning engulfed the area, tendrils of electricity arcing off here and there. It was only about a second and blinding to anyone watching, but for the electrician, his body convulsed before the filament inf the bulb of a head went dead and the whole body fell lifeless to the floor. For Vasil, it the effect would be the equivalent of sticking his hand inside an industrial grade power socket.
"Not at all... preferential..."
"Oof! Hey, I'm free!"
A side effect of Vasil's actions was that the electric chains confining Sam to the wall jumped from her towards the lightning sphere when it had emerged in the room. Without them, she fell towards the floor. Luckily there were some chairs against the wall where she was, so she landed comfortably in one. Being able to freely move since encountering the electrician, she did a quick check of herself to see if any serious damage had been done. Apart from being charred and smoky in some places, she was more or less ok, or at the very least not dead. While scratching at some of the burnt skin on her arm though she realized the full extent of what had happened, as her eyes focused more on the background. Falling out of the chair in shock for lack of a better word, she crawled worriedly towards where the two had been fighting, cautious about getting too close.
"Mister royalty sir, are you alright? Wait, that was a stupid question... are you alive?"
"Please don't crawl around on the floor, it's considered a fire hazard."
Sam was willing to help out in whatever way she could, whether that meant carrying the Prince or administering CPR or whatever, but the secretary at the counter seemed more or less nonplussed about the whole situation and just spoke up when she noticed the fishgirl on the ground.
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Post by Sprite on Sept 30, 2012 23:50:44 GMT -5
As the ball of lightning began to dissipate, a clear hissing and bubbling noise would become apparent. The savage Prince still stood, his figure alight with constant sparks and spots of electricity. Why he was not dead, or at least on the ground would have been a bit puzzling at first until onlookers saw the clear and opaque jelly like substance that was sliding off of his form.
All the air around Vasil had been affected by his rage-enhanced attacks, his venomous touch turning the very air into the same soft jelly-like material. During his frenzied attack it had settled all over him, almost like a second skin, and had seemed to absorb the brunt of the electrical discharge from the electrician's dying spark.
With a contemptuous flick of his arm, Vasil discarded the rest of his sparking thick jelly shield to the ground, grinding a foot on his fallen enemy's remains. Pausing to spit on the ground, a spark flew from the glob of saliva as it struck the ground.
"Vasisisisisi. Garbage should stay on the ground."
Casting Sam a slightly bemused look, Vasil reached down and aimed to hoist her up to her feet.
"Stand proud my vassal! Your Prince has overcome a foe so foolish as to dare lay hands on his servant!"
Settling the broken and charred remains of his sunglasses over his face, Vasil began walking towards the door to go outside, casually stepping all over the lifeless suit on the floor.
"Let us hope this island provides worthier foes, if they even dare to challenge my flight anymore vasisisisisisi."
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Post by Shark a' Pult on Oct 2, 2012 2:05:29 GMT -5
"W-Wow... that was amazing. You're really strong, my Lord!"
Sam still wasn't that used to the supernatural and was easily freaked out, but seeing Vasil exercising in this way caught her off guard. Enamored as she was, she found herself succumbing to old habits, eyes a sparkle as she was hoisted off the ground. Following him out she couldn't just step over the downed electrician, stopping for a moment to look the melted suit over.
You did manage to find me first... better luck next time though.
"Let us hope this island provides worthier foes, if they even dare to challenge my flight anymore vasisisisisisi."
"Very good my Lord! They will learn to fear the name of Vasil Iskar. Wait, what am I saying? I'm not your servant, I said I'd help you!"
---
"Oh good, the key still works..."
Thankfully enough, the trek from the grove the police station was on to the grove where Sam managed to get a hotel room, was largely uneventful. The people who were looking for the pair of jailbirds were on the watch for a Prince and a fishgirl slave, not a couple of losers, one crispy charred and the other bruised and beaten. Still though, they definitely turned a few heads to be sure. It was good that they got out of the jail as soon as they had, and it would be for the best if they laid low for awhile. She might not be a Prince of a country or an electricity-throwing cyborg, but she knew how to live on the run.
"Well there's a bathroom and a tub if you want to wash up or whatever, and a restaurant across the street if you're hungry. Only one bed, but then I'm... well it's my room."
Sure enough her ship had plenty of room to stay, but Sabaody wasn't a place like any other, so Sam wanted to experience it herself. That meant among other things, staying in a bubble hotel. It wasn't some five-star resort and she wasn't scraping for money, but it was nice room in a good location. Best of all and why she had settled for it; a great view of the other groves. She had the place for another few days, but figured getting arrested and sold back into slavery would have forfeit that. Something Vasil may have noticed, that even though the 'Do not Disturb' sign was hung on the door, the room could definitely have used a maid's attention. The place was a dump and looked like a messy person had been staying there at least a year, with trash and papers strewn all over the place. Even the blankets and pillows were all over the place, with the mattress half hanging on the floor. Sam didn't seem to mind though, and paced through the litter to a large open suitcase by the bed.
"I figure if we wait till nightfall, it'll be safer getting to the boat. There'll be a festival on so the last thing people will be looking for is the likes of you and me. I was gonna go myself, but this place has left a sour taste in my mouth so I won't be too sad to miss out."
A few moments later and she was back by the door, holding a gun and waiting for Vasil to enter the room. As per usual she wanted to set up a trap on the door in case anyone tried to break in and or otherwise gain entry while she was in the room. She had been caught in such a way more than once, and this was one of the things she'd picked up along the way to avoid repeats.
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Post by Sprite on Oct 4, 2012 14:05:47 GMT -5
During the trek to Sam's bubble hotel in the neighboring grove, Vasil strode about with his head held high, a smug grin permanently affixed to his face. He didn't seem to believe in any sort of subtlety when it came to being a criminal, perhaps that had been how he was caught in the first place.
More than a couple times he snapped at some ignorant commoner or oblivious individual who got in his path. His sheer fury and condescending nature acting as a natural deterrent for anyone who might have wanted to cross his path.
Upon reaching the actual hotel, Vasil scanned the interior of the building with a critical eye. He shrugged as he adjusted his ruined sunglasses, which were nothing more than some blackened and charred frames with small bits of the lenses still hanging on.
"This will do for now."
After seeing Sam's room and state it was in however, Vasil's facial features curled and twisted into an expression of the utmost revulsion. Walking past Sam and into the room he picked his way through the mountains and rivers of rubbish. Stopping amidst a mountain of crumpled papers and wrappers, a vein throbbed in his forehead.
"This is... unacceptable!"
The prince swiped at the mountain of paper before him, sending globs of paper colored gel splattering against the wall making a SMAT SMAT noise.
Having made his displeasure clear, he sniffed at the room derisively and strode into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. After a few seconds another enraged roar echoed from inside the bathroom as there was a large crashing noise. There went the bathtub.
"This filthy tiny thing cannot contain and cleanse my princely essence!"
Flinging open the door, Vasil tossed two large dissolving blocks of goop onto the carpet. It appeared that he had severed the entire bathtub cleanly in half and then simply rendered each half congealing masses of stone goo. With a flourish of his charred zebra coat, Vasil turned on his heel and marched out of the room.
"This is not a palace or a lodging befitting a prince such as I, I shall go outside and procure the necessaries for myself, you useless wench."
Just as Vasil would have exited the building, Sam might have noticed a man astride a bubble bike pass slowly by the window. He was speaking through a megaphone and tossing out flyers. The flyers of course had Vasil's angry and haughty visage printed all over them.
---
Vasil strode about the marketplace, his eyes passing between stalls with a genuine boredom and disinterest. He was waiting for someone to be struck by the godliness of his presence and avail their funds and services to him. He could not stay in that hell hole of a bubble hotel with that useless fish vassal of his.
Not quite paying attention to where he was going, Vasil walked right into a shorter man wearing a fedora and a fine trenchcoat of what appeared to be a dark bear pelt.
"Huh? plat?"
The short man swiveled on the spot to see a very annoyed and angry Vasil glaring down at him. His jaw was set and tense, and he seemed to be grinding his teeth as he was gearing up to demolish the short man with the odd speech habit.
"Let's get out of here Cap, this guy looks like trouble."
"Yeah! We don't need no more attention after that last fiasco out at sea."
"Please plat. We'll just be on our way, sorry to have trouble you sir pus pus."
The short man tipped his fedora, his wide almost comical eyes ashine with his genuine apology. He had a wide mouth, his smile almost seeming to reach from ear to ear, scrunching up his small nose. His limp black hair sticking out and hanging over and past his ears from under his hat. The coat hung loosely on him and the sleeves and hem trailed on the floor, if it weren't for the small collection of odd yet weathered and experienced looking pirates who stood respectfully around him, he could have been mistaken for some lost little kid playing dress up.
A crooked predatory smile broke upon Vasil's face as he pointed a menacing finger at the small man as he attempted to walk away.
"Hold on now peasant...I fancy that coat. Give it up to me and I may spare your life for hindering me in my stroll."
The short man blinked once, the same blank and unsettling smile stretching across his face as his large circular eyes stared enigmatically at Vasil.
"Platy? I beg your pardon? I'm sorry but I don't think I could part with this coat, it's plat-inum edition."
Vasil's smile grew wide as he brought his hand up, fingers together ready to simply chop the man in half.
"Then die."
The prince brought his arm down in a vicious chop at the man's head. A few small sparks seemed to shine inside the man's inanely large eyes [small pupils though] as the hand descended.
---
A crowd had gathered around the two men as the confrontation first began. Hushed whispers here and there formed a general conversation that would have been audible to anyone.
"That's Georgio 'Boy-o' Pleter! One of those rookies..."
"....Supernovas!"
"....315,000,000 Belis on his head..."
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Post by CJ on Oct 4, 2012 14:42:51 GMT -5
"Uhhhh... a prince?" a small voice said softly from across the room as Vasil stormed out.
A figure sat up underneath some blankets on the floor, near the discarded mattress. The sheets and blankets slowly fell to the side, revealing a boy with short, wavy dark blond hair with a dull red octopus stuck to his face.
Apparently the boy was lacking pajamas. He wore business casual clothing, quite odd for someone who appeared to be ten-years-old. He had a long sleeved gray shirt with a dark grey vest. As he struggled to remove the sheets and blankets to stand up, Sam could see he was wearing expensive black pants.
Perhaps the strangest part about him were his "shoes." They were metallic and bulky, completely unfitting compared to the rest of the boy's form. A detailed symbol of an octopus was etched into the sides of them, with its tentacles streaming down the side to form faux shoe laces.
The octopus twitched as it hung onto the boy's face. Its huge bulging eyes rolled around to stare directly at Sam. It wore a gray collar around its head with a tag with a name etched in a bold font: "Titan."
"Who's there? he asked with his arms stretched out. "Could someone turn the lights on? I'm so sorry for intruding. I thought no one was using this room, Monsieur Prince."
Apparently he didn't notice Vasil leave. But how did the boy get in there without a key anyway?
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Post by Shark a' Pult on Oct 4, 2012 16:07:18 GMT -5
"This is... unacceptable!"
"Well I'm sorry, but if you want to avoid being found then- no!"
Sam was busy trying to set the door trap and wasn't paying much attention to whatever it was that the Prince had to complain about this time. All in all it was looking like a mistake she bothered to offer him help, if he wasn't even going to meet her halfway. When he liquefied her papers though she dropped everything and dashed for what was left of them.
"No no no no! What were these ones?!"
Watching in panic as the papery goop dripped through her fingers, she tried to remember what it was that could have been written on them. Turning to the remaining papers that had not been destroyed, she shuffled through them trying to find a gap where things didn't make sense. Scrambling for a pen she began to scribble furiously, furrowing her brow as she tried to recall what had been destroyed and to fill in the gaps.
---
Well I must be going crazy now.
I turned out she wasn't going crazy, and when the boy emerged from beneath the covers she turned slowly to look at him, lowering the paper she was writing on just as slowly. Something in the back of her mind told her to reach for a gun when she saw the octopus.
"Could someone turn the lights on? I'm so sorry for intruding. I thought no one was using this room, Monsieur Prince."
"Turn on the lights? The whole room is a giant window."
She was also sitting on the floor, and she shuffled her legs in place to turn so that she didn't have to look over her shoulder to face the boy. While his presence was not the strangest thing she had ever seen, it might have won the prize for that day. Noting his appearance, she wrote something else down while keeping an eye on him.
"So... welcome to my room, the room that I am using. Who are you?"
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Post by CJ on Oct 4, 2012 18:52:35 GMT -5
The boy paused hearing Sam's voice. He seemed to be somewhat surprised to hear her instead of Vasil.
"The room is a giant window?" he asked. "Well, that could only mean... oh."
He immediately pressed his hands against the sides of the octopus's head and yanked it abruptly. With a cute "pop," the boy's face was free of the creature. He shook his head about, allowing his hair to fall neatly into place.
Blue gray eyes blinked to see the impressive features of the Bubble Room. He looked down at Sam sitting on the floor. A smile crept over his face at the sight of her. He was a rather good looking boy, like one you might see in a magazine catalog.
"Wow! A fishwoman! And look at your scars..."
The boy felt at his neck at the spot Sam's scars were most prominent with a confused look. He looked at the octopus hugging onto his shoulder and back at her.
"...if I've learned anything from having scars, it's that they get uglier every time you look at them."
The statement was said with no distinguishable emotion. There were no scars visible on his skin, though only his hands, neck and head were showing.
"My name is Cid Coral," he said with a slight bow. "I'm homeless so I've been jumping from place to place with Titan, my space octopus. I apologize if I have been an inconvenience. I tried to keep this place the same as it was."
Cid's eyes suddenly went huge in a realization. His metal "shoes" made a noticeable, heavy "thump" as it stepped up to her, not bothering to dodge stepping on any of her papers. He leaned forward, as though trying to get a better look at Sam's face.
"Say wait, there was a prince in here, wasn't there! I remember him getting angry. Who was he? Who are you, Madame? Tell me, are you a princess? What's your kingdom like?"
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Post by Sprite on Oct 12, 2012 16:52:15 GMT -5
A few minutes into Cid and Sam's conversation, they might have noticed a rising commotion that seemed to be nearing the hotel. There was a tremendous crash somewhere on the lower level as the entire building seemed to wobble.
The floor of the hallway just outside their room seemed to quiver and bulge upwards as a strong pressure was applied to it from underneath. With a wet popping noise the rising mound ruptured sending gobbets of wet carpet and wood colored goo flying everywhere as a ragged looking Vasil pulled himself up with one arm.
His other arm hung uselessly and stiffly at his side, an odd bruised purplish color affecting it.
In opposition to the loud ruckus that Vasil had created in his odd ascent up the hotel, there seemed to be another individual slowly approaching their floor. This individual however was taking the stairs, an odd yet steady slapping noise indicating he was going up the stairs, possible in slippers or something.
"Wench! Get me on my feet, we leave now!"
"I thought we were pllllaying?"
Vasil swore to himself as he peered at end of the hallway. The light from around the corner projected a large frightening shadow of some large animalistic beast nearing the turn. Razor sharp teeth, fearsome claws, and a predatory hunched back as well as something like a long flat snout.
When the speaker turned the corner however it was none other than the small man in the bearhide coat. With his wide smile he began walking towards Vasil, the prince in turn merely struggled all the harder to pull himself upwards with little success as the purple hue seemed to be spreading from his arm up his shoulder, weakening him.
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Post by Shark a' Pult on Oct 15, 2012 10:11:47 GMT -5
"Wow! A fishwoman! And look at your scars..."
Right away the boy noticed what she was, which she would have commented towards. She never really admitted it, but Sam enjoyed the notion of being physically similar enough to appear human in some cases, which meant that she was glad her skin wasn't blue or green like some of the fishpeople she had seen. It meant she could blend in with people fairly easy if she wanted to, and it gave her insight into what her life could have been like, were the stars aligned differently.
When he brought up the scars though, it was like she had just been struck by an arrow.
"...if I've learned anything from having scars, it's that they get uglier every time you look at them."
Correction, struck in the chest by an arrow, right through the heart. Clenching her hand into a fist, Cid's words struck her so surely that she wasn't even sure how to properly respond. Within not ten seconds of his introduction, the boy had hurt her more than most people ever had. At no point did it occur to her that he was speaking about her neck, as busy as she was looking down at her unwebbed hand, the first thing she always assumed people noticed about her. From where he was standing, Cid may have been able to pick up on the creaking sound of clenched teeth.
"My name is Cid Coral, I'm homeless so I've been jumping from place to place with Titan, my space octopus. I apologize if I have been an inconvenience. I tried to keep this place the same as it was."
"Cid Coral..."
Without looking up, she moved to her feet and continued collecting her possessions together without paying much further attention to the boy or his octopus. Despite the mess that her room had been in, through the large clutter of stuff it was surprising how little she actually considered important. That is, what she began to put in her suitcase and what she left out, and by the time Cid was finished speaking the room was notably less cluttered. At least with papers, and while she was struggling to actually close the baggage, she managed to mutter something under her breath in between the pieces of conversation he was clearly having with himself. After all, she certainly wasn't carrying it with him.
"Maybe there's a reason you're homeless..."
"Say wait, there was a prince in here, wasn't there! I remember him getting angry. Who was he? Who are you, Madame? Tell me, are you a princess? What's your kingdom like?"
"Wench! Get me on my feet, we leave now!"
At about that time, all the commotion with the hallway outside was happening. Though she wasn't sure yet what it was, Sam had a feeling it was trouble, given the nature of the Prince. Why couldn't he just stay put in the room till nightfall?
"Sorry to shatter your expectations Cid Coral, but I am not a princess. Any questions about the prince though, it sounds like you can ask him yourself."
With a final great effort Sam managed to pull the zipper on her suitcase, and without breaking pace made for the door. Looking through the peephole in the door to make sure it wasn't just some ruse, she loosed the door trap she had set and pulled it open. While hanging onto the frame she leaned forward to cautiously look down through the hole in the floor before she noticed the strange figure coming up the stairs. It was not hard for her to put two and two together, and without a moments hesitation she attempted to drag Vasil into her room. Assuming he did not fight her and did not weigh hundreds and hundreds of pounds, it would not prove to be too difficult for her. Whatever the case, the idea was to get him inside so she could shut the door once again and reset the trap.
"Just my luck..."
Slumping with her back to the door now, she brought her hands to her face in concentration, trying to steady her breathing as she looked between the various points of interest in the room. From Vasil, to Cid, to her suitcase, to the bubbled dome itself and back again. As an idea began to form in her head, she quickly turned to look through the peephole once more, before pacing backwards and making sure to step over Vasil. Fortunately she had not bought any souvenirs during her stay yet, and she was thankful that the majority of the possessions in her bag were merely clothes and paper as she hefted it towards the center of the room. That it had an outer casing of metal only helped.
"You want the room? It's yours, and it's good till the end of the week. Just move out of the way for a bit."
It was clear she was talking to Cid as she began to spin while holding the bag. Before long she had built up a good bit of inertia and promptly let fly the suitcase directly for the spot on the bubble where Cid had been looking out not moments before. Like trying to press something through a balloon, the dome contorted around the suitcase as it flew outwards until with one sudden pop, the whole bubble ruptured. As the suitcase sailed to the ground below, Sam watched after it till she heard the metal thud. Looking all around now, she tried to make out a way of escape, as she was not made of metal like the bag. As her gaze turned upwards, a sudden realization had dawned upon her, and a small smirk crept across her face.
"As for the prince..." letting go of the edge, she rushed back to Vasil, sliding to her knees and attempting to help him to his feet once more. "Are you good to climb your highness?"
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Post by CJ on Oct 16, 2012 11:26:19 GMT -5
Cid was oblivious to Sam's words or her feelings in regards to what he said. As soon as Sam opened the door, he turned his head to see what could have been the most beautiful thing he had seen in a long time. Here was the prince indeed, hanging on for his life right outside the door.
"Prince Vasil of Ravunya? IT'S REALLY VASIL."
His metal boots shook and rattled against the ground. He brought his hands up to his flushed face and breathed haphazardly. His cheeks were as red as Titan, his octopus. It was apparent Cid had heard of this man long before this point.
"He's even cooler in real life. Oh my gosh~ Eep!"
The boy was so distracted he didn't even see Sam throw her suitcase out of the window. He covered his head and winced though none of wreckage was even near him.
"I think I'll be good for staying here," he muttered to Sam, looking at the less than stellar room. "I mean, you kind of broke the window so it'd be bad if it rained. Oh... I can't believe you work for Vasil..."
It took him a few seconds but he finally understood what was going on, seeing Vasil's condition and the enemy approaching. He ran up behind the kneeling Sam and shifted his feet against the floor.
With one bound, Cid actually leaped over her. He nearly hit her head with his boot as he soared over her. For a brief moment, it could be seen that his metal boots were expanding as he flew. They contracted as landed in front of the hotel door and swung it open, ready to confront the enemy behind it (though probably hindering Sam's plans). The boots resumed their normal appearance as he stood his ground.
He turned slightly to smile as handsomely as a ten-year-old could. A sparkle fluttered from his eyelashes as he winked at Vasil.
"Go ahead, Prince Vasil and lovely Fishwoman. I will stall this hideous man!"
Didn't Cid say before that Sam's scars were ugly? It seemed strange he would refer to her as beautiful after that. Aside from his strange, metallic boots, it didn't seem like he was capable of fighting off this fearsome pirate, especially when Vasil was having such a difficult time.
"Leave these innocent people alone!" he commanded as he lifted up his one foot. Titan hugged onto the back of his neck and stared blankly at the others with its button-like eyes.
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Post by Sprite on Oct 18, 2012 14:47:51 GMT -5
Vasil strained and managed to heave himself up a bit further, allowing Sam to drag him into the room all the whilst glaring furiously at the coated pirate still proceeding steadily down the hall. As soon as the door shut, the violent prince pushed himself up with his good arm and examined his arm which was now a deep purple-ish color. He attempted to wiggle his fingers with little success as bolts of intense pain shot through him, he winced slightly, displaying a pain tolerance that a traditional spoiled prince might not possess.
"The fuck?"
The Prince finally noticed Cid, as the young boy had something of a small fanboy meltdown as he saw Vasil. The egomaniac brawler was quiet for a moment as he felt a bit creeped out, but the praise and attention brought a broad and one-hundred percent arrogant smile to his face.
"At last! Someone recognizes my greatness, yes, yes! Go and die for my escape you peasant!"
Vasil cheered Cid on as the young boy placed himself in the door to stop the approaching Supernova. As Sam proceeded to pull him up again he nodded irritably and got to his feet, pushing Sam towards the hole in the dome to get her to hurry.
"Yes yes, it would take more than this minor ailment to stop me from such a simple course of action! The survival and continued well-being of my princely self lies in your hands now, Steven! Hurry along."
It was obvious Vasil was entrusting his survival to Sam, or, Steven as he seemed to remember.
---
"Pllllllease. Out of the way boy, I don't have any business with you."
Moving to Cid's side and pushing him away with an arm, Georgio stuck his head into the room and looked around to spot Sam and Vasil hobbling over to the edge of the room. Pulling his free arm up, he brought it down in a vertical chop, a blast of air-pressure in the shape of a cutting crescent being released from the sheer strength and skill of this action.
Snarling, Vasil swung his purple arm the incoming attack. With a slight blast of displaced air, he managed to halt the attack using his venomous touch, softening and melting the very air that the attack had been comprised of. Cuts still appeared over his arm however, the blood that leaked from it was black and unusually thick.
Georgio made to push past Cid completely and dash after the two, his attention not on the young boy at all.
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