• Graded • Dude, Where's My Goose?

Something's odd with Vern... (Fridgar & Noth, please!)

Rising from the stony plateau overlooking the rivers and plains of the western continent, and growing wealthy from the gem stones pulled from this same rocky soil, Etzos is a bastion of independence, eagerly spreading its belief that man should rule Idalos, not be servants of the vain Immortals who nearly destroyed it. But can the different factions set aside their agendas long enough to see this through?

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• Graded • Dude, Where's My Goose?

Postby Kovic » Sun Apr 23, 2017 10:11 am

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The previous trial...
11th of Ashan, 717
10th Break


Everything was in place, and today was the trial.

Paplo, hiding in an alley, made the last arrangements. Closing his eyes, he’d focus on his looming hunger, which always crept around his mind – usually being the only thing he really felt. Once he felt the emotion whole, he imagined releasing it, letting go of the sensation to be free. It was so, for his Misty Mania, a black and ink-like smoke now escaped every pore of his being, dancing and dangling in the air of the alley. Freedom was now in his mind, for the hunger was no more, and with its departure came the void that allowed Paplo to think as clear as glass. He’d wave the Mist away as if he waved away a bad fart, letting the mist creep down the alley for someone other to sniff its appealing aroma and to feel the intense hunger the Mortalborn constantly felt.

When the teacher left the alley, donned in his fine suit, he began making his way to the arranged spot. He yawned once or twice, for his night had been busy. Creeping in the night, Paplo had managed to infiltrate Noth’s cavern to temporarily capture Vern, the hound of the ugly avian’s refuge. It had been surprisingly easy to do so, for Noth had slept deeply in a corner, and the goose itself seemed to recognize Paplo. For said reason, the goose didn’t signal the alarm, but Vern had, nonetheless, defended his owner. It was somewhat pathetic to imagine the Mortalborn, unbound by shape or use, being chased through the forest by a silent goose and its goofy stride, with its round black eyes fixed on a being as powerful as Paplo. It had chased him all the way into the Outer Perimeter, in fact, and locking said goose into Paplo’s tavern room would surely prove to be quite the mistake later. With that thought in mind, he had hidden all his clothing, hoping to avoid the goose’s form of art, surely performed with its many white excrements.

After stopping for the most delicious meal Paplo had ever sniffed – composed of a rare and finely spiced crocodile steak with a side of vegetables in some sort of sauce, all spiked with heavy amounts of aphrodisiacs – and to take the oil that would serve as a possible lubricant, the Mortalborn proceeded towards the meeting point arranged with Fridgar. The so called ‘becomer’ had explained the basic layout of his magic discipline, which promised an ability to become a different being with the help of a totem, all of which had left Paplo wondering. He wanted to know more, and he most likely would, for he would get the chance to watch not only Fridgar’s magic in action, but also learn about Noth’s lifestyle. Study two birds with one meal, really.

The mere predictions over the coming events had him well-humored. It was rare that he felt these light impulses of joy, especially when no eating was involved. The true pleasures in his life were few and scarce, for all others he had learned to fake. When the Mortalborn realized he had never truly laughed without faking it, he felt the discomfort over his inability to grasp his own self, and so his mind was immediately redirected to his surroundings. The day was bright and promising, and as such, Paplo showed his kindest smile to the world.

When he arrived at the designated spot, he leaned against the wooden wall of one of the houses, holding his plate tightly, and looking around to spot either a muscular colossus or a testosterone-enhanced goose coming from the horizon.

Today was the trial, indeed.
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Dude, Where's My Goose?

Postby Fridgar » Tue Apr 25, 2017 8:36 am

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The creature waddled along the dirt road. For fucks sake, why did he have to waddle? The goose form was degrading on his sense of self-worth, he’d never felt this low, even when harvesting a bunny rabbit for a totem a few arcs ago. No, this was an all-time low for Fridgar. People gave him weird looks as he traversed from the inn to the meeting spot him and Paplo had agreed upon. People had also given him weird looks as he left the inn in goose form. With the recent weakening of his spark, Fridgar had little choice. He'd needed to become the goose and let his fatigue cool before using any other form of magic for the trial - else he risked growing a third eye or something.

Suddenly, without warning, someone grabbed him. His heart sunk to the pit of his stomach. Now one thing that anyone knew about Fridgar was that he loathed being touched in any form, but animal form peeved him especially. The goose would shriek, turn its head and peck the molester viciously in the face, seeming to try and punch him with its beak. Once he managed to shove it in the gentleman's eye, the man reflexively let go, dropping Fridgar to the dirt floor. He caught himself with his wings and allowed himself to fall gracefully. Fridgar looked to the man with a bob of his head, only to see that he was royally pissed off. Wouldn't anyone be if they were defeated by a goose?

Other civilians that lined the streets chuckled at the man's foolishness, if Fridgar could smile, he would. He was just about ready to go after destroying the other male's pride, but the male had other ideas; round 2. Like a rabid animal, he leaped for Fridgar, apparently not taking no for an answer. The form's natural instincts kicked in and he took flight, but not before the man caught his foot and held Fridgoose above his head. Fridgar honked with despair while violently flapping his wings, if he needed to carry the man with him, then so be it. No avail, the fat ass human was too heavy. A wicked idea came to mind, if he could sadistically grin, he would have.

Without warning, the goose let go some of its droppings onto the man's head. Almost immediately, seemingly before impact even, the man let go. There was an uproar of laughter as he took off, higher into the sky. Not one bit of him felt bad for publicly humiliating the same human twice, he shouldn't have picked up a random goose.

Bits later, Fridgar waddled up to Paplo and halted in front of him. Paplo would see a carbon copy of the goose he picked out for Fridgar yesterday, he might be forgiven for thinking it had escaped the Lothar and returned home. The goose looked up at him with its black bulging eyes and honked as if to say 'Yo'. Should Paplo ask if he were Fridgar or anything of the sort, he would nod. With the changing of his form, so changed his vocal cords. communication was going to be difficult.

Should Paplo try and pick him up, he'd find the goose spreading its wings, lowering its head and puffing out its chest in what appeared to be a vicious visage. It would honk aggressively as if to say 'Don't pick me up, son of a bitch.' once it was settled that Fridgar was not going to be picked up again this trial, he set off to follow the human to wherever he needed to go. He would also answer any yes or no questions with nodding and shaking of his head, but as for questions that needed actual answers, he would honk sarcastically.

Fridgar still hadn't considered how much money he was getting payed for this 'job'. Neither had he considered what this 'job' was. All Paplo had told him was that he'd needed help with this for some time. With his two other totems assimilated, he pursued whatever career path Paplo had chosen for him.
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Dude, Where's My Goose?

Postby Kovic » Tue Apr 25, 2017 12:37 pm

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Paplo walked besides a goose.

Paplo walked besides a goose.

Paplo walked besides a goose, but stranger things had happened in his life. Once he walked along a creature that could only be described as a monster, a temporary alliance between two predators eager to destroy a common objective. However, those walks had never been as satisfying and as promising as the one these two creatures were currently engaged in. This walk, although bizarre, pleased him. Carrying his plate safely in his arms, Paplo advanced forward with a smile, eager to see if someone came across the strange duo so that he could explain what the situation painted. It would be a good challenge for any amateur charlatan like himself. Actually, Paplo was a professional charlatan, for he faked being a teacher, a nice man, and a man in general on a daily basis, and he got wages because of it.
“We’re going to see our target now,” he’d say to his avian companion. “His name you don’t need to know. As for his appearance? Well… try not to be terrified. His ugliness knows no borders.”

They breached the forest, dark and grim as it was, and began the voyage through the tricky terrain. Rocks were here and there, slowing the advance for such an elegantly dressed man like Paplo, who bowed down every few bits to wipe any possible much from his dressing shoes. They were uncomfortable, even more than any sort of footwear, but they shined with their glossy darkness in a way that charmed the eye. Charm was important.
“You happen to be the guardian of his, ehm… residence,” said Paplo, almost having said the word ‘cave’. “You’re also his one and only friend. He holds you more trust than he does anyone else… or, well, he does to his goose, which you are now. Vern is your name.”

Strange noises could be heard in the forest, as if suffering and malice took over the vegetation, as if Noth’s own darkness had expanded into a vile malady, creeping between rocks and roots and corrupting everything it touch. Or so Noth would say, being as dramatic as he often was. When Paplo thought about it, he realized the Mongrel had poor verbal skill in general, the only exception being his monologues. The Mortalborn looked towards the goose, amused inside but with a straight face on the outside, realizing his own dialogue was similar to a monologue.
“As for Vern’s attitude, or your attitude in this case,” said Paplo, taking a short pause in order to climb over the root of a tree. “It’s more or less aggressive, especially with myself for whatever reason. You’re detached but friendly with our friend, so do not try to seek his affection yourself. If he makes the first step, then you take that affection and return it. Anything he does to you, you return.” The teacher, as the merciful lord he was, tried to mentally prepare Fridgar for what was to come. Thankfully, the spiked plate would help.

It wasn’t too long before Paplo recognized the terrain that would lead them to Noth’s raw stone manor, large, spacious and ventilated as it was. Because of that, he stopped and looked towards the goose, gravely.

“Whatever you see and hear in there is to be kept a secret, do you understand? That is part of your contract. You can only discuss what happens in there with me, and only me.” He nodded. “When we get there, I’ll give him this plate. He’ll probably feed you the salad, so don’t worry. I made sure it’s the best lettuce in Etzos. He’ll be suspicious of your absence, but I’ll find a way to ease his suspicions. Try to look tired. Now, you chase after me like I’m an intruder until our friend finds us. I’ll run in its direction. Be angry.”

And just like that, Paplo turned around and began running into the forest, panting as if tired, moaning as if terrified, and frowning as if not amused.
“Goddamn it, you stupid bird! Leave me alone this instant!” he’d yell.
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Dude, Where's My Goose?

Postby Noth » Tue Apr 25, 2017 6:26 pm

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Where had she gone? It was the question of the morning for the murderous Avriel as he scoured the nearby landscape, attempting to locate his most prized possession. His pet had remained with him for several Arcs now, and had been invaluable in protecting his life from external threat, and he simply could not comprehend the idea that she would abandon him so readily, even if she was nothing but a bird. Were not birds of a feather supposed to flock together according to the ancient proverb? Apparently that had been a falsified verse, because she had very clearly gone missing. Gone missing, that was the easier way of looking at the scenario. She had not abandoned him intentionally, but had instead been led astray by some manner of animal or perhaps a wily man attempting to steal her away for their own nefarious deeds.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but to feel somewhat heartbroken over his loss, and it took him several breaks of searching for the small beast before he decided to retire to his resting place within the spacious maw of the rock. Time seemed to stretch on for far longer when one was distressed, and he tapped his talons nervously upon the stone floor, hoping to somehow summon forth his favored companion with the rhythmic movement. It was strange that he had even noticed as quickly as he had really, especially since he often left for several breaks at a time in order to do various activities such as hunting for game or tracking down the whereabouts of persons of interest. Orchestrating events with the Al’Angyryl had managed to sap him of much of his free time, and he had stayed busy, thereby forcing him to ignore the poor goose far more than he might have wanted. Still, he would never have expected her to leave him for his negligence, and it made him ache inside knowing that he could have done far better than he had in terms of being a pet owner. His father had taught him much about the treatment of animals, and that had carried over even into his current lifestyle, and yet how could he state that he clung to those philosophies of fair treatment and care when he had forced a wonderful creature to leave his side?

A short term umbra of depression seemed to wrap its way around his head, and he wondered when he might recover from that terrible sadness which plagued him. He was drawn so deeply into his own self-pitying thoughts that he only barely registered the sound of twigs and bushes rustling out of tune with the wind, and the crying calls of a man attempting to frighten some manner of pursuer from his trail. Who knew, perhaps some excitement might do him well, and help him to keep his mind off of the dreadful subject? He arose slowly as though the momentary absence of his pet had aged him a millennia, and took hold of his mace, stepping outside to examine the apparent chase.

The figure quickly became identifiable as Paplo by the way he urged a wild animal to go away by talking to it. One trial, Noth knew that he would need to educate him on the nature of the real world, of the innate and internal savageries that intruded upon the minds of all living beings. Who knew, through some training and discipline, he might even be able to unleash the inner beast from the gentle shell of a man. That spoke something of his mental state that he considered a violent murderer to be nothing more than a ‘gentle fellow’, though perhaps that told a number of their relative strengths.

Crimson eyes peered outwards from the cave, grimly scanning the horizon in an attempt at locating whatever pursuant had decided to chase after his associate, and they locked with a predatory precision upon the flailing and vicious beast assailing him. Vern! She had returned to him after all! Everything made perfect sense now! Mammon had decided to visit and had somehow managed to draw Vern’s attention, maybe whilst she was foraging nearby, and had unintentionally dragged her away towards the city. Alternatively, maybe she had been nearby all along, and he simply was not nearly as good a judge of his own abilities as he had previously considered.

Truly, it mattered little, because the only words that uttered themselves from his mouth were,

“Paplo! You’ve returned my pet you me! How gracious of you.”

Little did he suspect the trap that had been laid. After all, who suspects a goose?

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Credit to Pegasus

As a note: Noth is a Grandmaster in Intimidation. That means that he's at least as scary as the Count from Sesame Street. Beware.

"The tyrant confuses those he can't convince, corrupts those he can't confuse, and crushes those he can't corrupt." - Anonymous
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Dude, Where's My Goose?

Postby Fridgar » Wed Apr 26, 2017 6:36 pm

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Fridgar waddled alongside Paplo as the human explained everything he needed to know. As the bits went by, the little confidence he had in the mission slowly dissipated. He wanted Fridgar to act like a guard goose? Easy enough, he'd done guard duty during the dark cold of cylus. As Paplo continued to explain, it became apparent that his job was not going to be so easy. He wanted Fridgar to what? Pretend to be someone's beloved friend goose guard? What? He hadn't rehearsed, this wasn't the plan! Oh god, what even was the plan before? Did Paplo think he looked like an actor!?

In truth, Fridgar's skill set didn't stretch much further than hand to hand combat with a touch of magic. No part of his previous appearance screamed artistic, actor or lovable. Paplo had set upon him an impossible task. He utilised his wings for traversing the forest floor, flapping every so often over branches and rocks as they came. Aggressive behaviour? Now that, he could manage. Especially for Paplo in this case. He understood Vern, in a weird way. Something about Paplo felt... triggering. As for returning the mystery man's affection, how hard could it be? If the guy pet him, he'd pet back.

Then, the final part of the briefing - he was sworn to secrecy. The goose put the feathers of it's wing to it's head as if to mimic a salute. Though, when Paplo spoke of the whole lettuce feeding thing, Fridgar began to panic in honks of protest. Immortals be damned! He never told Paplo that he couldn't eat vegetables! That being said, he felt the same hunger as the trial prior. He could force himself to eat what his corrupt body found inedible as long as that hunger persisted.

His protests fell upon deaf ears, or ears that didn't understand goose. Damn it all, this whole plan was going to be ruined due to a language and nutritional barrier. It wasn't as though he had time to turn back into a Lothar, speak, then turn into a goose again, either. His weakened spark was a bitch like that. It was time for action, regardless and Fridgar got into character - tired and aggressive. He cleared his goose throat before experimentally hissing. Once he was ready, he chased after the human and let his rage be channelled through the goose's hardwired instincts. It manifested as a lowered body with raised and spread wings, neck outstretched with beak wide while viciously hissing a battle cry.

As he chased after the human, some sort of fauna came into a view - a monster from his home lands, the planes of Gauthrel? What was it doing here? Subtly focusing more on the beast, he contemplated its appearance before coming to the realisation that the creature wasn't in fact, a monster, but some sort of deformed feathered race - he could vaguely recall the species after passing by some on his way through Etzos six arcs prior, but couldn't remember their names for the life of him. Whatever the case, he was on duty. Fridgar rushed forward and pecked into Paplos heels with his serrated beak, mainly for theatrical purposes - selling the aggression.

Once he was 'back' at the creature's side, he folded his wings in and stood to attention, as he imagined a guard goose would. Still though, he maintained a glare on Paplo as the feathery freak spoke to him.
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Dude, Where's My Goose?

Postby Kovic » Fri Apr 28, 2017 6:02 pm

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When the goose finally left Paplo alone, the male clearly showed his exhaustion before Noth. It wasn’t all faked, for the Mortalborn’s own endurance was greatly inferior to those of other less physically lazy men. Nonetheless, his hairs had somewhat lost their order, and the ponytail had became somewhat less arranged than before. Droplets of sweat hinted an imminent appearance, and the suit the teacher so proudly donned now presented small twigs and leaves caught on the fine fabric. Holding onto the plate, Paplo took a moment to breathe before looking up towards the pair, showing nothing but disdain.
“You’re welcome, my friend, although next time I shall consider returning your pet inside a stew rather than behind my heels. This is certainly no way to be received!”

Rearranging what he could of his scalp and facial hair, Paplo would step forward, heading towards the cave.
“I would’ve expected to run from your goose when I found myself near your cavern. Instead, I found myself ambushed by this damned animal at the edge of the forest, and I was relentlessly chased ever since. Bah!” Without asking permission or even the approval of the two avians, Paplo made his way towards the cave’s entrance, hoping to find a whole new variety of red stains as decoration. What he saw was a let down, for there was no river of blood flooding Noth’s primitive manor. Instead, there was only enough blood to probably account for a dear. Maybe Noth’s was no longer a murderer. If that were the case, Paplo required of his services no longer. It’s not like they got along thanks to the conversation, anyway.

Once he made himself comfortable in a part of the cave that displayed no goose dumplings nor bloodstains, Paplo rested his head against the rocky wall, and faked a slow recovery from unwanted exercise. It was then when he finally removed the protective layer of paper – which was quite costly to acquire – from the plate, unveiling the culinary masterpiece below it.
“I brought you this, as a token of our friendship. Were I a lesser man, I would’ve eaten it myself after seeing your gooses’ lack of training. Alas, it is yours,” said Paplo as he extended his arms forward, offering it to Noth. The mere sight of the horse meat was seductive to the eye, like the feeling a man gets when a courtesan winks seductively and leans closer, whispering her intention to charge only half for enjoying her body. Beside it, a salad with cheese, lettuce and olives were mingled with exotic oils and some spices even Paplo was ignorant about. Had he not released his hunger with his Misty Mania, the Mortalborn would’ve been jealous of such delicacy, possibly enough to murder both inhabitants of the cave with the sole intention of enjoying the plate himself.
“No need to share it. I ate three of them before coming here. The cook behind it is a genius, I’ll give him that.” Now that everything planned was in place, it was time to sit back and enjoy the possibly disturbing show. Not everything in this world was pretty, and anything that involved Noth was automatically in the other end of the spectrum.
“It has been a while since we have last spoken. Are there any news in your surely exciting life?”
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Dude, Where's My Goose?

Postby Noth » Wed May 03, 2017 4:23 pm

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There was a joyful feeling that swelled within the heart of the monstrous Avriel as he observed his trusted companion returning to her place. She had removed herself from the chase almost immediately after observing her master, and the twilight hybrid watched as she planted herself at his side, folding her wings inwards and thusly returning herself to a fairly calm state. There were some throughout Idalos who preferred more physically dangerous companions at their side, and whilst Noth could see the appeal, he doubted any of them could match the bad-tempered goose in pure ferocity. She had performed her work gleefully, he felt assured, and he reached a hand downwards and briefly patted her on the head with a pair of fingers, using minimal pressure so as not to aggravate her, but rather to reassure her as to his own presence. Of the pair, Noth did the killing, Vern simply did the warning.

Crimson eyes settled upon Paplo Ynush, squinting slightly at him with an apparent gesture of minor dislike for having left his goose away combined with gratitude for leaving her back. Complicated emotions such as that made Noth glad that his face was mostly covered by feathers, because he imagined her must look as if though he were constipated. That thought caused his expressions to return to normal as he snorted out a quick chuckle to himself. It seemed as though Ynush had tired himself rather thoroughly by running the goose all the way back to his home. He cast an eye down towards the creature at his side, expecting to see her heaving as well, but found that she seemed completely fine from the exertion. Fascinating, he had expected her to be at least somewhat tired, after all, even dogs would heave and puff after a hardy run. Oh well, apparently geese were far more resilient than he had thought.

He waited for Mammon to stand next to him, observing the slight drizzle of sweat beginning to bead upon his forehead, and concluded that perhaps Vern hadn’t had to run so far after all. His investigative thoughts were interrupted when Paplo mentioned that the deed was fine, but that next time he would prefer to turn Noth’s beloved pet into stew.

“Ah yes, I can only imagine that would work out well for all parties involved.” He spoke sarcastically, clearly threatening Ynush for his idea, though admittedly he kept it subtle because he was still fairly thankful to the ancient fellow.

It seemed as though Vern had encountered Ynush near the edge of the forest, and Noth cast a disparaging look at the creature for having wandered so far from her post. He could fairly easily have been devoured in his sleep were a wild animal suddenly convinced that it desired bird flesh, especially with his alarm having wandered so far away. Still, she was just an animal despite his affection for her, and he determined that he would simply reinforce his training later in the day upon the subject after his guest had abandoned them.

Some people might have panicked if they found themselves with a guest with their home so clearly messy, but Noth simply stepped over the bloody puddle of his most recent kill as though it were an everyday occurrence; which in their line of work, it essentially was one. He could care less whether or not Ynush agreed with his particular choices of decorum, after all, he knew fully well why Noth arranged his home in the way that he did, or at least the twilight hybrid felt fairly confident that he understood. Painting the walls in blood and impaling trophies on spikes kept the unwanted away, and acted as a sign of his strength to any potential threats. Men were just as wolfish as they typically wanted to appear, and showing his dominance over them made it far easier to keep challengers away from his domain.

Paplo had brought a gift in order to solidify the ‘friendship’ that the two had formed, though the hybrid had always understood it more as a business relationship than anything else. Still, it wasn’t terribly uncommon for business partners to bribe one another with assorted gifts, especially to ensure that the business would remain on good and profitable terms. He felt inclined to return the gift despite his lack of true charity. His gift wouldn’t be one of kindness, but rather of continued productivity, and as he glanced towards the pile of his belongings, he spied out a particular item he thought his companion might desire.

The scent of horse meat drew his attention back to the dish, and he more carefully examined the food, taking it from his companion. He took notice of the salad, wondering whether or not it would taste anywhere near as good as the meat, and knowing immediately the answer. As a half-Avriel, he could technically consume the vegetables, but they had never been as appetizing as the flesh of beasts.

He suddenly felt incredibly hunger, though he wasn’t entirely sure whether or not it was the meal itself or merely a residual hunger that had been excited by the promise of flesh and food. He took a piece of the meat, slipping it into his mouth, and allowing the juices to flood around his teeth, soaking into his gums for the briefest instance before he swallowed it all down. It was incredibly delightful, and he immediately began to devour the remainder of the meal without the slightest thought as to his guest, at least for the first few bites. He neatly flicked a small chunk of the meat onto the ground for his pet, though he wasn’t entirely sure whether he liked the flesh as much as he did, though admittedly, she had always eaten what he had given her.

“You have my thanks, Mammon.” He spoke, skipping the formalities of using first names.

There was a question asked, which immediately peaked Noth’s curiosity. Could it be that his companion was genuinely interested in the events that had occurred recently in his life? That seemed unlikely, and he began to wonder what Mammon actually wanted from him.

“Nothing nearly exciting enough for story I would presume. I met a small little orphan child who saw Vern and was intrigued. Beyond that, I’ve been here and there, gathering information, and potential informants for our schemes and goals and whatnot. I’m not quite sure if you’ve seen them yet, but I acquired these after a battle.” He motioned towards the armor pieces attached to his shins, inscribed with the Etzori logo.

“Speaking of which, I shall return your gift with one of my own.” He spoke, swallowing down another bite of food before placing the platter to the side and stepping over to his pile. He sifted through it quickly, having already spotted the gift which he wished to give, and with a metallic ring, he passed the Gladius to Mammon.

“I trust you understand bladed instruments. I know it might be somewhat more… brutish than you’re used to, but our activities will only gradually become more violent, and its best if you have a true weapon to fight with.”
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Credit to Pegasus

As a note: Noth is a Grandmaster in Intimidation. That means that he's at least as scary as the Count from Sesame Street. Beware.

"The tyrant confuses those he can't convince, corrupts those he can't confuse, and crushes those he can't corrupt." - Anonymous
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Noth
Feathered Fiend
 
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Dude, Where's My Goose?

Postby Fridgar » Fri May 12, 2017 4:46 am

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The feathered one had already gone and pet him without permission. Fortunately, Paplo's instructions ran through his head and he rubbed his head against the two digits that ran over his feathers, returning the pet to the best of his ability.

Fridgar didn't even realise he'd missed the action of pretending to be tired and almost missed Noth's suspicious glare. His head would turn to meet the feathered abomination's crimson eyes while he pondered where he'd seen the creature before. Had it been this specific creature? Surely not, he'd recognise a friend, wouldn't he? The possibility that the creature was actually a foe hadn't crossed his mind, Fridgar didn't have many enemies, they didn't often live long enough to mark his memory. Fatigue was something he hadn't suffered in quite some time with his extensive training.

Even so, Paplo went on to chat with the freaky bird thing as though they were friends. Fridgar paid close attention for once, listening to the details as he followed at the beast's side. It was only when the creature threatened Paplo that he recognised the tone, the voice, sounds in general. This thing was his enemy, the chills running down his goose spine confirmed that much. But how? He pondered the matter further as they stepped into the bloodied cave. Now, Fridgar had seen plenty of mauled animals - it came with his arcana, an unspoken duty to mutilate various animal carcasses to create a totem.

He waddled at the creature's side, still unsure of his identity or significance. Eventually, he was presented with a dilemma. The creature had thrown a piece of meat to the floor. While he was hungry, could he really lower himself to eating pieces of food off the floor? His pride churned as he looked to Paplo with a glare. Then, hesitating slightly, he ducked and bit into the chunk of meat before chewing it and swallowing it. While Fridgar wasn't sure if the goose was carnivorous by nature, his mutation forced his nutritional needs to that of a carnivore no matter his form, the goose could handle meat with his corruptions.

Now Fridgar had tasted plenty of meats before, but horse meat tasted a little off. Maybe it was down to the fact that it had been cooked, cooked meat just wasn't the same after all, Fridgar didn't like it regardless. the pay alone shouldn't have been enough to lower Fridgar to eating another person's scraps, but he felt a strange hunger that seemed to hollow his gut; he couldn't help himself. After he'd swallowed the chunk of meat, he would unintentionally honk in appreciation, seeming to ask for more. The enemy of the throne had fled Rynmere, became a goose then begged for food? Oh, how the mighty may fall.

The more the bird creature spoke, the closer Fridgar came to realising just who he was stood with. The thing, he'd man-handled just three trials ago; this was him. He'd frozen in the trills he realised, seeming to process the information. So, this is where the villain lived? Some far-off cave in the middle of nowhere? At least now he knew where to return the bow to. Fridgar hadn't yet broken his nice-streak and didn't want to have theft on his new list of crimes. Did it count as theft if he stole from a calf-shooting bastard? Probably.

The only thing he really paid attention to in their conversation was that the bird fiend had handed over a short sword of some kind and addressed Paplo as 'Mammon' or something of the sort. Fridgar could only smile internally, Paplo had given the bird creature the wrong name! But what did he mean by 'our activities will only gradually become more violent' Fridgar would tilt his goose head, what exactly had he stumbled into here? For now, he bided his time and absently pecked at the deer carcass while the two spoke.
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Fridgar
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Dude, Where's My Goose?

Postby Kovic » Sat Jun 03, 2017 7:12 am

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Paplo's clear thoughts about Noth surfaced once again once the gift was exchanged. This feathered fool had yet to realize no weapon would ever be welcome in Paplo's inventory. He then recalled the first time he and Noth met, and by the conclusion of that first adventure together, Noth had gifted a bow to the Mortalborn. Said bow still laid somewhere in his small room, surely under the bed, gathering cobwebs or dust. Taking the gladius in his hand and swinging it around without much grace, Paplo took a moment to inspect the bladed instrument itself. It wasn't much of an art piece, for the only true decoration found in it was the clotted blood where the blade met the handle – location which Noth hadn't quite chosen to clean after stabbing either a woman or a child, if not both. The blade was ugly, and its mere purpose was as stupid as Noth himself.
“Such a wonderful gift,” he lied. “Thank you, my friend.”

Leaving the Gladius aside for the moment, Paplo looked around for a good location in which to rest. This location happened to be a corner in which no blood was found, where Paplo squatted down comfortably, refusing to let any of his suit's fabric to be in contact with the rock. The mere care of the suit was an annoyance at times like these, where he was stripped away from the comfort of the city and, instead, dwelled in bloody caverns or death dens of his companions. Maybe he'd have to do like Noth did and be a pig. That seemed easy enough.
“I trust the meal is to your satisfaction, yes?” asked the Mortalborn at last, with a kind smile. “I realized we're not very well acquainted, in truth. That is why I do not came to discuss business with you, but rather to get to know one another.”

Now, the good part would have to begin. Paplo took a moment to ponder on his next words, to craft the story that would, hopefully, solve the mystery at hand.
“I've met someone special,” he began. “It's a nice avian lady, much like yourself, but... you know... better formed. She has her two wings, you see, but still resembles a human.”
Paplo thought of Nightshade Eld as that fabricated woman. They obviously had no sort of relationship, but perhaps her image would serve to incite Noth into awakening his reproductive needs – if he had any. Perhaps he was an enuch, or his genitalia had withered and fallen off. It was a plausible case given Noth's genetical malformations.
“She's... beautiful. Her dark-blue eyes of hers, her porcelain flesh, and long black hairs... I believe my world trembles whenever she smiles for me. We've been dating for some time, and, well... I think I want to take the next step with her.” Paplo paused, melancholically. “It's been a long while since I've felt anything similar. I felt like I needed to tell someone, you know? Maybe you can talk me out of it.”

Paplo looked towards Noth, expecting his reaction. Surely he wasn't one for love, and so the next part of his storytelling would have to be brought into the mix.
“And the way she fucks... Ugh. She usually gives me the back when she's riding, and she opens her black wings... She makes me feel so vulnerable. I feel like I want to marry her, and I believe she wants me to ask her, too.” Paplo made sure to make some exaggerated expessions whilst he faked pondering on such encounters. One could almost feel the pleasure in his body language.

There was a reason why Paplo had fabricated a relationship between Nightshade and him – she had wings, and goose had wings, too. It seemed as if the two races were quite close. As a bonus, he knew Fridgar was also listening, and he seemed like the sort of man that enjoyed penetrating females on a daily basis. Given that the body he was in was a female, there wasn't much choice for him but to take one for the sake of science.
“What do you think, my friend? What should I do?” asked Paplo at last, eager to get the response and be on his way as his use was expiring already.

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Sorry for the delay, y'all!
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Kovic
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Dude, Where's My Goose?

Postby Noth » Sun Jun 04, 2017 6:16 pm

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Noth often questioned the validity of Ynush’s statements. They had met several seasons ago by now, and the hybrid could still vividly recall the way that he had been lied to multiple times before the truth had apparently been revealed. Since then, their business exploits together had seemed to be mostly successful and beneficial to both of them, but that lingering question as to whether or not Paplo Ynush; or Mammon, was genuine quickly came swarming back to him as he spoke of how wonderful a gift he had been given.

Could it be trusted? Could anything that Paplo Ynush said ever really be trusted? One of his chief aspects was clearly his ability to act, and that was why he had been the deceiver and infiltrator of Al’Angyryl in a past operation. Logically then, it seemed prudent to question anything that ever left the ancient fellow’s lips, but that would greatly deter their efforts at trusting one another. Then again, they were all a bunch of murderous and ambitious criminals, and he had to question whether or not he genuinely wanted to become personally closer to any of them.

Crimson eyes questioningly flitted over him as he stepped over to a corner of the room which had not been coated in blood. That would need to be cleaned later, he mused, as he remembered using the very Gladius he had just gifted to his friend to hack away at a loose chunk of flesh which absolutely refused to be sliced away from a bone. The way that Ynush squatted down as opposed to sitting upon the rock made him snicker slightly, and he internally questioned why the teacher thought it prudent to wear his business attire constantly, especially when he went into dens of death such as Noth’s home.

“The meal is rather delightful. I appreciate the gesture.” He responded to the question, listening intently as Paplo began to discuss his reason for visiting. It appeared as though his ally had determined it wise to become his friend, though once more, Noth felt conflicted as to whether or not there were ulterior motives to his gift and good behavior.

His next words caused an immediate lift of Noth’s eye, and the twinkle of humor to flicker across those crimson orbs. He had met someone special? That seemed incredibly unlikely given the voracity by which he had consumed the energy of others in the past, but the twilight hybrid was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

He immediately regretted that.

Step by step, piece by piece, Ynush began to describe someone incredibly familiar. At first, it was only a peaking suspicion that it was her, and the hybrid knew better than to jump to quick conclusions, but gradually he knew it simply had to be his dearest friend. He felt a muscle twitch in his cheek, and immediately attempted to quell the rebellious nerve. Did he know? Was he simply making something up to spite him? What had he done to earn that spite? He questioned and questioned, his mind running amok as an impossible scenario suddenly became very real.

And then he described how she was, and he knew that the time for reason was growing incredibly short. Warm blood pulsed through his being, and he unconsciously felt his hand begin to clench at his side, reaching for a weapon that was not present, but settling instead for a simple fist. He was not the strongest person in the world; a side effect of his Avriel blood, but he knew he had enough rage in his system that he could probably knock the undying Ynush into death’s counterfeit with a single blow. Cruelly, he knew that he needed him for their future work, and he calmed himself as slightly as was possible by recognizing that Paplo could very well be lying to him about his relationship with his beloved. Any warmth under his collar that may have been derived from the sensual description was ruined by its imaginary cast, any seductive feelings having been converted into the embers of jealous and bitter anger.

He blinked. When did he start thinking of her as that? Hadn’t he driven her away? Was this his punishment for letting her love grow cold? For intentionally thwarting something very real, because it had interfered with his plans?

It had interfered with his plans. It would interfere with their plans. Cold logical reasoning were the hallmark of the Hawk, and it immediately assumed control from the emotional Hare within Noth’s predatory mind.

“Enough.” His voice was forceful, though it lost some of its harshness as it finished, the final transition of the Hare to the Hawk.

“Paplo. Mammon. Whilst I am glad for your relationship, I hope that you are not distracted from our goals. It is true that love is a wonderful thing, but ensure that whomever you are with will not object to who we are, because inevitably, they will discover.”

Cruel eyes glared into Ynush’s, the threatening tenseness of his body beginning to fade with every individual step towards him. His arm finally extending outwards at the last step, and placing a surprisingly clean hand upon the crisp and genteel shoulder of his ally.

“I know you. You can’t change what you are… not after as many Arcs as you’ve lived. You’ll kill again. I think it prudent to ensure that you are not forced to kill those you love. I will not tell you what to do, but I know that were I to fall in love with someone, I would push them away, at least until after our goals have been accomplished, because they will only act as a stumbling block until then.” The pleasantness of not being a hypocrite flooded his system, and he hoped beyond hope that his appeal would be obeyed.

Because the trill that Ynush released Nightshade from their dreadful relationship, he was going to find her, and apologize for everything.
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Credit to Pegasus

As a note: Noth is a Grandmaster in Intimidation. That means that he's at least as scary as the Count from Sesame Street. Beware.

"The tyrant confuses those he can't convince, corrupts those he can't confuse, and crushes those he can't corrupt." - Anonymous
User avatar
Noth
Feathered Fiend
 
Posts: 761
Joined: Sat Jul 16, 2016 12:51 pm
Race: Mixed Race
Profession: Monster
Renown: -345
Character Sheet
Prophets' Notes
Plot Notes
Partner
Templates
Medals: 28
Character of the Month (1) Peer Reviewer (1) Painting With Words (1) Vlogger Extraordinaire (1)
Guild Master (1) Mentor (1) One Arc Later... (1) Living Legend (1)
In Your Favor (1) Pioneer (2) Wanted (1) Bow Chicka Wow Wow (1)
Right In The Feels (1) First Kiss (1) Starting A Family (1) Murderer (2)
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Vhalar 716 (1) Crush The Reviews! 717 (1) Event Medal (2)

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