• Closed • My Candy Crush

The local glutton meets the candy pirate.

This area is unmoderated. Please click on "Forum Rules" at the top of this page or go to the "Unmoderated Areas" forum to see the rules for playing here.

Moderator: Basilisk Snek

User avatar
Limbo
Approved Character
Posts: 410
Joined: Sat Jun 04, 2016 1:16 am
Race: Mortal Born
Profession: Parasite
Renown: -108
Character Sheet
Templates
Letters
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Featured

Contribution

Milestones

RP Medals

Miscellaneous

My Candy Crush

Image
46th Zi’da, 716
10th Break
It hadn’t been that long since Paplo arrived within Etzos, and the city’s initial mysteries were beginning to fade away. The streets were recognized, getting lost was unlikely, and most of the businesses had been visited. What had once been a large establishment of civilization had now become a map for his eyes, a series of patterns and something as known as the palm of his hand – if his hand wasn’t mutating, of course. Ignorance drove him, in truth, for Kovic was eager to continue learning, peeling off mysteries with logic and experience. Paplo, on the other hand, was a far more practical man. He wished not to know anything for the sake of knowing, but instead for the sake of controlling. Soothing the discord between actor and character had proven to be difficult, and thus their attention had been directed somewhere else. Now, Paplo was beginning to learn the darker side of Etzos. What had once been a city ready to host him was now a trap, for he was being watched, followed, and used like a puppet. Being as a tool for propaganda was not what he wished for himself, and so moving away from the city was something of a necessity.

Once the wagon passed by the docks, Paplo gracefully hopped out, and waved a hand towards the other travelers that had shared his sojourn. The ocean Foster's landing lived by was a highway of wind, and one’s bones couldn’t help but rattle with every frozen stroke of air. Were it not for his cloak, Paplo would’ve began cultivating snots like a child. The dock workers and shipwrights worked tirelessly, even if none wished to stand the cold. Looking around for someone to talk to, Paplo spotted a man whom desperately tried protecting his pipe from the winds, attempting to puff smoke without much success but with plenty of frustration.
“Greetings, my dear man,” said Kovic as he approached. He had to ask the obvious. “May I ask if you happen to work in these docks?”
“Everyone around here works in the docks,” replied the male, twisting and turning in attempts of fooling the winds.
“Hopefully, I shall too,” replied Kovic with a polite chuckle. “From what I heard, employment is granted if one was to establish himself in Foster's Landing.”
“That’s right,” replied the male, finally giving up on his impossible task. His mood apparently grew bitter whilst he returned his pipe within it’s pouch. “Have you heard about the adoption perks? If you adopt three or more orphans, you get three promotions at once after your first season. You also become eligible to join the guards.”
“Big perks, indeed. Seems to be adopting an orphan is almost mandatory.”
“And you're right. We can’t really keep shoving them into the city, so they’re trying to make adoption more appealing.” The worker looked around, and then gaped up towards the sky. “I’d suggest you speak with the overseer. He knows more about this, and he’ll give you a little tour around if you want.”
“That’d be fantastic, thank you,” replied Paplo, offering a handshake to the male.
“Aye,” replied the male, showing no sign of regret as he crushed Paplo’s hand with an excessively strong handshake.

Paplo remained on the spot a while, looking around at the waters, wondering if he was really capable of adopting a child and avoiding binge eating it. The challenge of keeping an act alive at all times was appealing, however, and the chance of residing far from the city would mean freedom from Vuda. While he waited, something called his attention. In one of those docks, there was a small conglomeration of individuals, perhaps a dozen of them, which grew louder by the thrill. Group behavior was interesting enough, and so Paplo decided to approach.

Not even the cold drafts of air could stop the bravado of sexually active males, for the amount of skin present in the group almost scared the whimsical Mortalborn. Seeing strong arms, flexing chests and sculpted backs in the cold cycle was extremely rare. Said dozen of males, both the short and the tall, the strong and the weak, the bearded or the shaved, were fighting for the attention of a single female, whose sexual appeal had awoken their primal instinct of reproduction like never before. Some played coy, others portrayed mystery, and others straight-up attempted to conquer the female with either their looks or their words. So conglomerated was the scene, in fact, that every word they spoke became a verbal soup, an intelligible mix of words of voices proper of a riot rather than a courtship.

The female receiving said courting was as elusive as the sailors that surrounded her, apparently a female specimen like her needed to summon the horde of sexual gluttons and possible fashion icons one couldn’t quite find otherwise. Female, humanoid, young, average height, average weight. Green hairs? Exotic, rare, extremely appealing to the average sexually available male. Paplo found it difficult to focus, for whenever he attempted to analyze her he was inevitably confused by her own whimsical appearance. Should he too join in the circus in order to fit in? Apparently every male wanted her, and it would be suspicious if he stood away.

The logic reasoning made him approach even further, and he too shifted his features in the same manner his peers did; by doing a sort of kissy-face, arching his eyebrows, and glaring towards the female with a tilted head.
Last edited by Limbo on Sun Jan 01, 2017 10:15 pm, edited 3 times in total. word count: 948
User avatar
Tirta
Posts: 60
Joined: Sun Oct 30, 2016 10:12 am
Race: Naerikk
Profession: Pirate
Renown: -10
Character Sheet
Templates
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Milestones

Miscellaneous

My Candy Crush

Image
Image[/center]
I should have remained at sea.

Tirta had docked, and within 30 bits, she had collected a crowd of gawkers and landlubbers thinking with their balls more so than their heads. Well, at least they were thinking with one of their heads. Just not the right one. At first it had been a little pipsqueak, eager to gain her attention by offering to help secure the Sweet Tooth. She had actually taken him up on that, having him help her guide her boat closer to the dock she had stationed herself at. Of course, tying the boat meant kneeling and bending over, and her curves began to grab the attention of every other nauseating man within the port. Just when she thought she was good to leave, she turned around to find approximately a dozen men around her.

"Hey there pretty lady. Wanna come home with me?" One of the older, scarred men questioned her, offering her his hand as if he were some kind of gentleman. Tirta smiled at him, but did little more than fold her arms across her chest. It probably did not help that this lifted her bosom, all eyes before her jolting down to oogle her in all her feministic glory. Men. They were so predictable.

"Eyes up boys," Tirta chastised, popping her right hip out so she had uncentered her balance. It forced her cutlass in its make shift holder - a loop of rope attached to a rope belt - to jiggle as a reminder that she was armed. None of them seemed to notice or care. "Ya'll best be moving along now. Your wives won't be taking too kindly for your wandering eyes. Besides, none of you seem to be showing anything worthwhile, with your jackets on and all."

Some of them took heed of her warning, leaving at remembering they were married. The rest of them began to shamelessly pull off their coats to show a bit of skin and muscle. Some wore tight shirts, striped in red or blue much like the classic sailor would wear. Others wore no shirts at all. Were they so poor they spent money on jackets instead of normal attire? It made her shiver with the thought. Then again, she was poor enough to not own a coat, electing normal clothes over warmth. Stupid, but her clothing gave her part of her sex appeal. It was a midriff white shirt that covered the tops of her shoulders. Her parachute pants poofed out as the fabric hung loosely from the band at her hips. The widest part of her pants was at the middle of her calves before abruptly being dragged back into the bands at her ankles. Her black shoes completed the clothing ensemble, but what made her her was the unique coloration to her hair. Seafoam green hair tickled a greater majority of her head, although her roots had begun to be obvious. She was different, that was for sure.

"You must be a baker, because them buns are hot." One man called, flexing his shoulders. Tirta giggled, but pointed to him. She pulled her wrist sharply with a thumb pointed in the direction of the Mill. He had been dismissed for his poor excuse of a pick-up line.

"Come on boys. You can do better than that," Tirta goaded them on, quite enjoying this. She had them eating out of her palm for no reason except to try and find their way into her pants. It amused her. By now, they were down to eight - wait, no - nine men. One has just joined the fray, making kissy faces at her. Tirta emphasized an eye roll. By now, they were all calling out to her, and the original game was becoming a riot. She ignored many of the comments, most of them about how great she looked. Finally, one man became so bold as to reach out and grab her ass, copping what may have been his last feel.

Tirta reacted in the only way she knew possible. She drew her blade quickly, fraying a portion of the inner rope loop as she dragged the metal blade out. She swept it in a arc, creating space between her and the crowd before she pointed it at the man that had been far too ballsy. Her eyes, previously alight with laughter and fun, were narrowed and angry.

"This is over. Get lost. You sad pathetic excuses for sailors and men are no longer worth my time. Now go, learn to treat a woman with some damn respect. Next time, it will be your dicks on the tip of my blade!"
Image
word count: 784
Image
User avatar
Limbo
Approved Character
Posts: 410
Joined: Sat Jun 04, 2016 1:16 am
Race: Mortal Born
Profession: Parasite
Renown: -108
Character Sheet
Templates
Letters
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Featured

Contribution

Milestones

RP Medals

Miscellaneous

My Candy Crush

Image
It became apparent that male psychology became compromised when engaged in sexual rivalry. What could’ve been a bright mind transformed into a rather simplistic series of patterns, all of them fighting the competition with primal displays of power. Size and physical attraction seemed to be the most valuable physical factors exacerbated whilst in heat. Wealth and social status was also used to intimidate the competition, whilst cleverness and intellect seemed to be factors somewhat neglected whenever males fought for the females. The further Paplo remained around the group, pretending to be interested in the courting of the female, the clearer it became that the males did not try to actually interact with the female, but rather get rid of the rival males before engaging in actual courtship. A good notion, indeed, yet extremely basic and ineffective if Paplo was allowed to say. Nonetheless, it was good to learn how the mind worked.

It wasn’t long before the boorish behavior of the testosterone-filled sailors became a nuisance, and the female quickly dismissed the group with a violent gesture. The cleverness of the female almost made Paplo laugh, something he had to suppress to avoid calling excessive attention upon himself. The males were still likely to be aggressive, and he had no intention of engaging in fistfights. Instead, he took the moments to do a quick analysis of the female now that he had seen some of her interactions. She was definitely socially dominant, for she managed the attention she received with ease. The hints of narcissism and the attractive appearance perhaps hinted towards a lack of confidence, which would be typical of any submissive personality type. Was social dominance and psychological submission even possible? He needed further information.

Whilst Paplo was trapped in his own thoughts, the males had already dispersed, and only he remained near the female. Dubious as to what to do, especially now that the female had rejected male attention, Paplo remained in place. Eyebrows raised, and lips forming a tight line, the expression of innocence was shining for the female to see.
“I mean no offense, my lady,” said Paplo, trying to establish a link of empathy throughout conversation. A good fact would perhaps quench her emotional distress and help her regain a logical thought. “But unless you crave for death, I would suggest you don appropriate clothing for the season. The eve is far colder than one would expect.”

Paplo was wrapped in his black cloak, and a scarp safely protected his neck from the breeze. The suit he wore was safely hidden underneath his cloak, and only the lower part of his legs was showing now that he leaned against one of the lampposts, black dressing shoes shining their cheapness for those that wanted to see. After being displayed like an animal the night before, it felt good to feel elegant once again. To avoid any more violent outbursts from the female, he abstained from inspecting her frame and motions, instead focusing on her eyes with mild interest. The opportunity to make his move and prove how rigid the general psychology of males were around females was there, and being a curious being as he was, he decided to take it. As such, he extended the conversation whilst mentally allowing his Ether Lure to grow in intensity with every passing moment. He had yet to study its effects on the non-magical individuals, yet trying costed him nothing but another murder.
“A cloak would serve just fine, and you can acquire one for less than a golden nel.” With that said, Paplo pushed himself off the lamppost, and nodded towards the nearby buildings. “Perhaps the local tavern keeper would be willing to donate one for you in exchange of a wink.” He snickered.
“I’m heading there myself, so if you promise not to sever my manhood, I’d be willing to share the sojourn.”

Seduction was not his forte, proven by his recent attempts of courtships whilst being loyal to Paplo, his character. In that sense, Paplo Ynush proved to be ungifted in the art.
Last edited by Limbo on Sun Jan 01, 2017 2:52 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 691
User avatar
Tirta
Posts: 60
Joined: Sun Oct 30, 2016 10:12 am
Race: Naerikk
Profession: Pirate
Renown: -10
Character Sheet
Templates
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Milestones

Miscellaneous

My Candy Crush

Image
Most of the men had left with their pride significantly bruised. She had little need for men like them, mostly knowing that if they acted like this when she was not with one of them, how would they treat a woman behind her back when she was? How would she feel if she was married to one of these sailors? Pretty poorly if she ever found out that someone was sneaking around and cat calling behind her back. Three of the men, physical brutes, were the last to leave. They glowered at the point of her sword, snarling with their lips at her. Their eyes hinted that this was not the last time she would be encountering them. It made her stomach churn. Great. She was already making enemies in the new city and she hadn't been here but a few trials. Once they left, she went about sheathing her cutlass in the rope loop. She would have to replace it soon if she kept pulling it out in that fashion. It would one day cut the rope in two and she would be having issues trying to catch her blade in the middle of a fight.

A man, dressed better than most that she had just dismissed, remained. He hadn't seemed to notice that the others had gone until she had firmly affixed her gaze upon him. "Oh, so you are to be kind and inform me that I should put clothes on? What an honorable man. Sadly, I'm no lady." Tirta sharply stated, sizing him up. She couldn't tell exactly what he was wearing underneath the cloak and scarf, but he at least had pants. That must mean he had appropriate attire beneath it. Yet, there was something curious about him. Something that pulled at her inner Spark. The ocean seemed to beg to jump up and into her palms. She felt more powerful than she had ever felt before. Tirta tried to remember Hare's teachings about overstepping and preventing extreme use of ether, but she had never felt this way before. It was something she had to test out as soon as possible.

"As I said to the others, be gone with you. I have more important matters to attend to." Tirta calmly said, moving towards him. Although she appeared to be heading in his direction, she took an immediate left turn and began to walk away from him down the docks. She hoped that there would be a nice quiet area on the beach beneath the pier where she could practice with the water by herself.

To drawn into herself and her thoughts of practicing Defiance, Tirta had neglected to see the three men conspiring just a ways down the dock where she had sent them. Their heads were together and the way they looked at her told anyone smart enough to analyze it that they were talking about her. When she was out of sight, one by one they dispersed. Although it seemed that they were going in different directions, each pier they took headed in the same direction as she was. Their paths would eventually collide with their prey.

Tirta had picked up her pace to a trot once she found the beach. The pier had angled down to the sand as was designed, allowing walkers to alter their path easily onto the beach. Normally she would ensure that she was alone, but this spike in ether was making her sloppy. She moved down the beach, the wind nipping at her clothes and her skin. She didn't care. Tirta needed and wanted the ocean right now. The waves rose and fell, sliding up the beach like a lover's hand across skin. The way the foam billowed made her feel at home. It welcomed her as soon as she was close enough to touch it. The bottoms of her parachute pants soaked up the water happily. Tirta cooed, running her cheek against her shoulder. The ocean was better than any man. Just as she was about to start Dancing, coaxing the water up as Hare had done in the past, a man called out.

"Looks like we have this bitch all to ourselves."
Image
word count: 712
Image
User avatar
Limbo
Approved Character
Posts: 410
Joined: Sat Jun 04, 2016 1:16 am
Race: Mortal Born
Profession: Parasite
Renown: -108
Character Sheet
Templates
Letters
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Featured

Contribution

Milestones

RP Medals

Miscellaneous

My Candy Crush

Image
To say that Jermann was a bad man would be a grave misunderstanding.

Born to two loving parents, and with the whole world in front of him, what had once been an intelligent and successful man had slowly began turning into a bitter and desperate individual. Although there were many causes to the violent outbursts that now plagued his daily life, perhaps it was the shattering of his heart by his previous woman what had forever damaged his soul, and what could confuse his good and friendly nature for that of another woman beater. The mighty fists he carried, once used to protecting justice and the weak, had been turned from shields to knives, for many females had met his fury whenever they too rejected the sensitive soul within him. So justified was his cause that the two males that stood at each side of him had been compelled to follow the tall male with the black mustache.

Tirta had, in some way or the other, inflicted damage upon him, and now Jermann felt compelled to unleash his fury upon her, to strip her flesh of its beauty for an unjustified reason he wasn’t really looking to understand. Spitting to the side, and keeping his head up high, a symbolic step forth was taken, and his goons followed after.
“Toss the blade to the side, woman,” he ordered her, not really hoping for any cooperation from her part. “Or else you might lose the hand.”
Jermann did not move, but his accomplices did, slowly beginning to circle around the female like vultures. Even if she was armed, she could be reduced by three opponents. Although Jermann was armed with nothing but his fists, his companions were; one of them wielded a hook, and the other a small knife. Furthermore, the sand would serve to easily blind the female, and so their will would be done.

Paplo, having been once again trapped within his thoughts, obsessed with finding reasons for every little gesture a humanoid performed, had caught wind of the situation by mere accident. Whilst his analytics ran within his mind, his eyes had followed after the female, for she was the real target of the various thoughts that plagued him. Vising the overseer for that tour of the dock's premises was a responsibility left for latter, for the female's matters held a bigger part of his interest right now. Surprisingly, some of the males had taken offense in the rejection, and what had been a subtle trailing had now become a rather explicit scene of incoming violence.

The Mortalborn had approached the scene, although he was still far away from any possible retaliation by any of the parties, holding no intention of intervening whatsoever. Peeking down from the pier, he could see part of the scene developing, or at least what the female was up to currently. For all he knew, the female had been seeking trouble in one way or the other, be it by her beauty, by her narcissistic tendencies, or by her lonesomeness within the docks. Rape and violence against women was far more common in the world than anyone would ever confess, especially in location far from civilization hubs or large settlements. In that sense, Etzos was far away enough for this very beach to be eligible, and Foster's Landing would not be so regulated. Paplo cared not for the wellbeing of anyone but himself, and the life and death of mortals was seen as nothing but another laboratory test. It seemed that he would be the only witness to whatever was about to transpire on the sands, and so he comfortably tucked himself within his cloak, and observed.

The female had the great advantage of being armed, which would aid her greatly for none of her opponents were armored. However, she was at a great disadvantage, as the ocean blocked her way, and the waters would not aid her in any way if they were to rush her. Her doom was incoming, apparently, for chances were against her. Shame, thought Paplo, for a violent death he considered to be so anticlimactic.
Last edited by Limbo on Sun Jan 01, 2017 2:55 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 698
User avatar
Tirta
Posts: 60
Joined: Sun Oct 30, 2016 10:12 am
Race: Naerikk
Profession: Pirate
Renown: -10
Character Sheet
Templates
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Milestones

Miscellaneous

My Candy Crush

Image
How foolish she was to have allowed them so close. She had been so focused on this new sense of power that she had left herself unguarded. Furthermore, she had been about to do magic before men she did not know or trust. That had been Hare's first rule: never allow people who did not understand or share a Spark witness a Defier dance. Thankfully, she had not done anything but enjoy the coolness of the water, the lap of the ocean waves. These were all emotional ties that could easily be blamed on her Biqaj blood. The race had a love affair with water, so it made sense for a portion of her to show the same thing. Slowly she drew her blade, cautious of the rope ring this time. No need to further damage it when she had been asked to draw the blade and throw it away.

"You are going to disarm me, just like that? I think not." Part of her wanted to be cocky and rely on her magic. The other part was intelligent and sensible. Her blade kept her identity hidden a little while longer. A knife and a hook. The knife did not concern her as much as the hook did. Hooks could catch a blade easily and rend it from the users hands with a simple pull. A knife posed her little threat, as she had distance on the man with the length of her cutlass. They had the sand, and she had the water. Tirta wouldn't be able to kick up the beach to blind the men, giving them the advantage.

Jermann must have thought the whole situation far unbalanced, for he nodded to only one of his lackey's. The one with the knife closed the distance slicing horizontally at her. She parried, supporting the back of the blade with her flattened palm before countering with her own upward slash. Her blade bit into nothing more than the cloth of his loose sleeve. He backed away while Tirta repositioned herself. Meanwhile, Jermann seemed to have placed her in a tactical position for himself. He signaled the other man who came up behind her, wrapping her in a big bear hug with the hook point at her neck. Struggling became a terrible idea with the point so close to her throat.

"I'll say it once more. Toss the blade aside." Defeated, Tirta had no choice. She stood there, throwing her sword as far up the beach as her restrained arms would let her. If the tide came too much further up, she would lose the blade to the ocean. Things were clearly not going her way. Jermann approached, his lackeys taking one arm each to hold her between him. The smell of him was stale ale and cigarettes. Seemed she smelled sweet and spicy to him because he lingered close enough to smell her. Gross. Without warning he jerked her face up, forcing his tongue down her throat in a dominating fashion.

No! Kick, punch, do something! Anything! She focused deep within her. There it was. That sensation of power was back. At her level, she should have only been allowed to suggest or coax the water to do basic things. It was not a weapon to novice mages. Something, or someone, had suggested that she might be capable of more at that very moment. She pushed the Ether down through her feet as the ocean came up to touch her. Had these fools noticed at all, they might have caught the strange mark of a Defier - the droplets that seemed to adhere like glue to the skin on her ankles. Jermann released her mouth with his foul one, smiling ravenously. "You are in for a treat."

"Get away from me!" Tirta screamed. Behind her, the roar of a collapsing wave drew the mens' attention. It was far too loud to be this close to the beach. The man with the hook was the first to fall. A column of water had shot out from the ocean with the force of a sucker punch. He collapsed under the column of water. With one arm now free, Tirta reeled her arm back and clock the other one directly in the nose. It was not a strong enough punch to do much damage, just knock him away. The water took care of the rest. A tendril of liquid had slipped up the beach, grabbing the man hiding his face by the ankle. He was brought down quickly, his head smacking firmly on the packed sand. Out like a light, just like the other one.

Jermann had started to back up. Tirta was already too far gone with her anger, forcing even more Ether into the ocean. Ether she only thought she had. Two columns of water rose with significant resistance to her command. She dragged her hands up from her sides until she stood with them formed in a 'Y'. He fell, his boot catching some dry sand. "You will never touch a woman like that again you pigheaded, foul smelling rat," Tirta howled, slamming her arms out in front of her. The columns came down upon the man, one pinning him firmly beneath the force of the descending water, the other covering his face and mouth until he drowned.

Panting heavily and soaked to the bone, Tirta felt incredibly weak. Her knees buckled beneath her. Based on the ether she had sensed earlier, this should have been easy. Why did she feel so drained? She looked at her palms and hands, which were shaking uncontrollable. Her vision blurred and her body finished falling flat on the beach. Meanwhile, the ocean had been realized from the mage's grip. For the most part, it shied away from her, giving her wide birth. As it fell back into the to and fro pattern of waves crashing on the beach, it seemed to expedite its increasing tide. Hare's words slipped into her mind just before she completely passed out.

A Defier is permitted to manipulate the element because that element allows the mage to do so. If you 'overstep' that bond, the element may look to punish you instead.

If the tide continued to increase, she would drown.
Image
word count: 1054
Image
User avatar
Limbo
Approved Character
Posts: 410
Joined: Sat Jun 04, 2016 1:16 am
Race: Mortal Born
Profession: Parasite
Renown: -108
Character Sheet
Templates
Letters
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Featured

Contribution

Milestones

RP Medals

Miscellaneous

My Candy Crush

Image
Paplo shook his head as the scene unfolded before him. As the alpha male shoved his tongue within the female, the Mortalborn couldn’t help but feel pity. It wasn’t pity for the female, of course, as the life of an individual meant nothing to him, but he did feel pity towards humanity. Even when they controlled vast amounts of knowledge, were able to build the tallest towers, traverse the oceans with ease and even achieve flight, they failed at seeing logic, and both interpersonal and intrapersonal communication seemed to have been forgotten for them. If it wasn’t for the fact that their savage nature had allowed creatures like him to live, the Mortalborn would’ve wished them a better fate.

Certain he was to witness a rape and murder, for he was certain the males would not allow the female to breathe once their lust was quenched, Paplo was prepared to take notes. Thankfully for himself, and despite the many sexual adventures he was forced into, he had never been a part of a rape scene. Sex and violence? Definitely not. The male wondered for a moment if the female was strong enough to avoid herself the torment by fast-forwarding her death, perhaps by digging her own neck with whatever the male holding her wielded. It would certainly take a lot of strength to do so. However, the female seemed to have no intention of dying, Paplo’s eyes opening widely as he witnessed something as miraculous as it was terrifying.

The water came to her aid in ways unexplainable by logic. It defied gravity, and what was expected to be a formless liquid now became her instrument. One of the males was knocked back, and the other was reduced to a ragdoll faster than expected. The final one, as big and strong as it was, was straight-up murdered before her. It all transpired extremely fast, faster than Paplo would’ve liked, for now the questions piled within his mind. The female had just reduced three males using a water monster of some sort, and against all odds, she lived. Like a statue atop a temple, the man coated in dark stared from above, feeling mild respect for the female will to survive.

What could’ve been a glorious escape from the cold waters turned into a rather pathetic scene, for now the female crumbled within the waters like a sandcastle, her strength magically gone as she too joined the males into sub consciousness. Just like that, what would’ve been an opera of screams, torment and crashing waves turned into nothing but a regular beach.

Paplo looked around him, and found no other witnesses to the scenes. In fact, he found nobody but the distant ships, which kept the workers around it ignorant. Quickly, he made his way onto the beach and planned his next move, for Kovic was alone, and his character was nowhere to be seen once no eyes laid on him. Down at the beach, nobody had really moved – or at least not voluntarily, for the waters slowly cradled the bodies within it. Unwilling to compromise his own security, Kovic quickly removed his cloak and his shoes, and his pants were rolled up to the knees as quickly as possible. His dark jacked was removed as well, and his shirt’s sleeves were also rolled in attempts of keeping them dry. He needed the suit intact. It mattered not if someone perished whilst he took care of himself. As he did so, one of the males began moving – voluntarily, in this occasion -, apparently slowly returning to the world of the woken.

The Mortalborn took a few moments to venture towards the female’s sword, which he gripped tightly before finally approaching the waters. They were as cold and as scary as expected, and if he was to attempt to lick the waters, he would also understand that, yet again, they were salty. Dubious at first due to the presence of said water monster witnessed, the male that slowly stood was not attacked, and so Kovic discarded any more apparitions from the mysterious beast.

Even if his feet clashed against the waters, the sailor did not seem to hear, and so Kovic was capable of placing the blade on his neck with ease. Severing his neck with a light slash, the male fell back down on his knees, now holding on to his neck as the waters were dyed red. Certain no stains had come upon his suit, Kovic submersed the blade within the water to clean it, and once the traces of blood were gone, he’d toss the sword back onto the beach. No witnesses were found, once again, when he inspected the surroundings.

At last, Kovic moved towards the female, taking her by the arms and dragging her damp body onto shore, surely gathering twenty pounds of sand on her rear as he did so. It was important to note her white clothing was certainly not appropriate for the season, just like he had told her, for now it was damp, and few mysteries were left regarding the female’s physical qualities. The attempted rape now seemed rather logical.

Once the female was safely out of the water, Kovic crouched down before her, his thumb going to her jugular in order to check for a pulse. He found one, although it was far slower than his average, a detail that still surprised him. Thankfully, he wouldn’t have to resort to first aid techniques, for he knew none. However that may be, the male’s palm flew towrads the female’s cheek, a harsh and dry slap attempting to bring her back.
“Woman.” He said, monotonously. Another slap. “Woman.”

Kovic was certainly not a gentleman, for he refused to even dampen his cloak by covering the female.
Last edited by Limbo on Sun Jan 01, 2017 2:58 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 985
User avatar
Tirta
Posts: 60
Joined: Sun Oct 30, 2016 10:12 am
Race: Naerikk
Profession: Pirate
Renown: -10
Character Sheet
Templates
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Milestones

Miscellaneous

My Candy Crush

Image
His slaps did nothing to rouse her. Even the chill of the wind across her damp clothes and the sand scraping at her back did nothing to pull a reaction out of her. Although her chest rose and fell with each breath, she was dead to the world.

A defier that pushes his or her limits one time will learn the hard way just how far nature will go to have its revenge Tirta. The lightest offense, and the element will simply turn its back on you. If you step beyond that, you put your life in their hands.

He had been speaking of the elements as if they were people. Tirta vaguely remember this lesson but had paid little heed. Maybe it was why Hare left her to her own devices. He remained for only a few more trials after that event. Had he deemed her unteachable? Did he regret his decision to initiate her into Defiance? Right now, she was suffering the effects of moderately overstepping her control of the elements. She was paralyzed and exhausted, completely unable to control her own movements. At this point, she would remain paralyzed for the day and unconscious for several more no doubt. Mortals had a way of screwing things up beyond all repair, and this time, she had gone even beyond the limits that she had placed for herself. She was in the mans mercy, and he could do with her as he liked, including leaving her on the beach if he so chose.
Image
word count: 261
Image
User avatar
Limbo
Approved Character
Posts: 410
Joined: Sat Jun 04, 2016 1:16 am
Race: Mortal Born
Profession: Parasite
Renown: -108
Character Sheet
Templates
Letters
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Featured

Contribution

Milestones

RP Medals

Miscellaneous

My Candy Crush

Image
The female did not awaken, and so Kovic couldn’t help but sigh. Whatever had happened to her had run off with her mind, and even when he opened her eyelids to inspect her eyes, there was no response by her part. Be it as it was, and considering that there were seemed to be no witnesses to the scene, Kovic was left with an infinite amount of choices for the female. The easiest seemed to be cut her neck and end sever any connection between them. Ironically, severing her neck would do him quite a lot of good. However, and upon a more calm approach, the arguments against said option would be obvious. For once, she had a ship docked neaby, and so he would have to get rid of it too if he was to murder her. Abducting her in order to consume her was also impossible, for he had been seen both in the docks and around the female, and her boat once again provided reason of doubt about her disappearance. Consuming her here would be plain stupid, and there was little chance of being able to hide her, or the other three bodies, nearby for a midnight snack.

He could always carry her to her boat and abandon her inside, yet that option would surely end up with the female violated and her neck slashed either way, plus the need to offer explanations if one witnessed how he carried an unconscious body around. Well, thought Kovic, there was always the option of truth. Boring and plain, the truth could find a solution to all his problems, which were the only problems that mattered. Before dressing back up, Kovic took some time to inspect the dead males from afar, wondering if he should enter the waters in order to find some loot. He certainly could use more clothing… The idea was discarded, and instead the male took nothing but the female’s sword with him, leaving it by the female whilst he proceeded to dress back up.

For the sake of his cover, he did have to sacrifice his cloak’s dryness in order to wrap the female into it. Once the female was in his arms, and her sword was wrapped in her arms, the male began making his way back up. Upon reaching the road, Paplo, the character Kovic played within Etzos, began walking the road, shivering constantly by the cold. Reaching an armored garrison was not hard, for Foster's Bay was heavily guarded.
“This woman killed three men in self-defense,” he told them. “She requires immediate medical attention. I also suspect this individual is a spell-caster, and thus Chief Advisor Vuda should be notified immediately.”

After pointing two of the males towards the scene of the crime, Paplo and the unconscious female were taken somewhere into the garrison. It was obviously not a hospital what awaited inside, but instead a male that smiled brightly.
"Look who is back. Leaving in the night is really bad form,"said Lagolla in between snicker.
"This female is a spell-caster. Give her to Vuda, and leave me alone," replied Kovic.
"Oh?" Lagolla glanced towards the unconcious female. "You'll have to hand her over yourself. Vuda would be upset if he doesn't see you again. Come on. We'll return you home in no time."
word count: 569
User avatar
Ent
Posts: 239
Joined: Wed Dec 28, 2016 1:40 pm
Race: Mer
Renown: 0
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Featured

Contribution

Milestones

RP Medals

Staff

Events

My Candy Crush

Image
Image
Name: Kovic

Knowledge:
Tirta: Female Sailor
Tirta: A user of Defiance magic
Tirta: Was attacked by sailors
Tirta: Dismissed you as annoying
Tirta: Dresses inappropriately for the season
Tirta: Does what she wants
Jermann: The sailor who lead the attackers of Tirta
Jermann: Attempted to rape Tirta
Acting: Remaining in character through any event
Acting: Changing ones actions to fit into a crowd
Psychology: male psychology becomes compromised when engaged in sexual rivalry
Psychology: Crowd/mob mentality
Psychology: Narcissism and the attractive appearance perhaps hint towards a lack of confidence
Psychology: A lack of confidence, is typical of any submissive personality type
Psychology: Was social dominance and psychological submission even possible?
Combat: Blades (Cutlass): Slicing a man's throat

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A
Fame: -2 (PC witness to act of cruelty) -5 (slicing a mans neck, No Mercy!)
Devotion: N/A

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 5/5
Structure: 5/5
Magic: N/A

Comment: No issues with story, collaboration or Structure. I really enjoy reading your writing, there is something very intriguing about a character who is acting all the time. Your style is nice too, I enjoy how it flows and how it connects well with the feelings of the Kovic hidden bellow this Paplo charade. Overall very enjoyable to read and I look forward to grading more of your work

Name: Tirta

Knowledge:
Sailors: Are a bunch of Horny fools
Sailors: Attempted to woo you
Sailors: Attacked you
Jermann: The sailor who lead your attackers
Jermann: Attempted to rape you
Kovic/Paplo: Told you to dress more sensibly
Kovic/Paplo: Was dressed smarter than the sailors
Kovic/Paplo: Was intriguing and seemed to pull at your inner spark
Hare: Initiated you into Defiance
Hare: Gave up on teaching you
Defiance: Using the sea as your weapon
Defiance: How to push your limits
Defiance: A defier that pushes his or her limits one time will learn the hard way just how far nature will go to have its revenge
Combat: Blade (Cutlass): Drawing your weapon safely
Combat: Blade (Cutlass): Using your weapon as crowd control
Combat: Blade (Cutlass): Parrying an attack
Combat: Blade (Cutlass): Upward slash

Loot: N/A
Injuries: Paralysis, temporary lasting 1 trial. Unconscious, lasting 5 trials.
Fame: -2 (commiting an act of magic)
Devotion: N/A

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 5/5
Structure: 5/5

Magic: These experience points may be used for domain magic.

Comment: Good job with the thread, it is always interesting to see a character push their limits and a writer take their character to the brink. It was a very enjoyable thread to read, and also my first review involving magic so if you see any issues make sure you let me know. Everything you wrote was good, I enjoyed the way your character interacted with all the male observers. Tirta seems like a bit of a bad ass, and she also seems to know how to handle herself. I look forward to seeing more of your character and her adventures with magic and rowdy sailors! Enjoy the rewards.

Please feel free to send me a PM if there are any issues with or questions about the review!
word count: 538
Image
Locked Request an XP Review Claim Wealth Thread

Return to “Western: Etzos”