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#1Noel Raion 

Republican Marches Empty on Sat Oct 29, 2016 9:07 am

Noel Raion
Mental asylum

'Where am I?'

A deep voice spoke from the shadows of what was presumed to be a prison cell. Whatever clothing the figure wore was worn and had tares running across it. This was an indication of violence having occurred prior to waking up in the cell, and it hurt too. Needless to say, a few grunts could be heard throughout the halls as the seven plus foot tall figure rolled off his bed. His fingers ran across the cold stone. There wasn't even dust he could feel with the tips of his fingers. The stone felt very old, not in the sense of moss growing - but in the sense of a lack of modern construction, like concrete.

Crawling to the light, his fingers found a cold rod of steel. They were bars, the man was caged by concrete and iron, the surrounding matched the description of a prison. The immediate question began to rise up, skeptical of the night before; had he been drinking? This had happened before, albeit the jail he was placed in at that time was much friendlier. After a few minutes of collecting his energy, he picked himself up and to stood up. This place seemed familiar, but he just couldn't put his finger on it.

'Can anyone hear me!?'

Meekly the man spoke. Deprived of some of his senses, he tried to rid himself of the cuffs that chained his hands together. His sight wasn't clear, the black blindfold covered his vision - as light was the only thing he could notice. There was no light in his cell, he did notice a small draft. There probably was a window in his cell. This meant that it was night outside. The cuffs were made from a strong material, he couldn't make out what it was exactly. After struggling for some bit, he noticed that the middle portion that held the cuffs together wasn't as strong as the parts around his wrists. He used the sense of his touch to try and find a sharp rock in the cell, he did this by using his feet - or more precisely, his boots.


Republican Marches Empty on Sat Oct 29, 2016 11:35 am


WORDS: 539 | TAG: @Maarschalk | CLOTHES

How did she end up in here? A succession of bad decisions and poor life choices. With Halloween just right around the corner, scary talks and challenges were at the tip of everyone's tongue, Alisa found herself on the business end of one, after a bet prompting the loser to venture into the abandoned asylum right outside Crocus. She remembered that much with a certain clarity, but not much else, with memories of the past few hours somewhat hazy from all the drinking: She did remember how her night came to an early stop after betting on the wrong horse (or rather the wrong drunk). As much as she liked to believe she didn't make mistakes anymore, here she was paying for one, and ridicuously overdressed for one such adventure. She could pull off the absolute zone just like any schoolgirl (whose age group she was still in), but that didn't really matter if there wasn't anyone to look at her, now did it?

This place gave her the creeps, and no amount of fashion or shiny crystals could distract her from that disturbing awareness... But then how could she have ever expected otherwise? It was an abandoned madhouse, who knows what matter of horrors the patients in there had to endure, and how many of them came from within their own broken minds.

Mustering her resolve, she pressed forth with sharp senses primed on her surroundings, readily dismissing any creak and clatters as mere echoes of the wind freely flowing through broken doors and windows, throughout most of the building. A calm, calculating and fearless woman by nature and nurture - as she fancied herself - even Alisa still found it hard to deny the visceral dread welling up inside her very being, something too instinctive to be kept at bay by mere reason. Even though the slightest screech and clater was enough to send frigid shivers down her spine, she pressed forth with a controlled stride, yet visibly alert for any and all things suspicious.

With a small splash, she passed a waterlogged corner (courtesy of a leaky ceiling and autumn rain), before finally hearing a sudden voice from her right side, "KYAAAAA-!!", with a an odd mix of frightened yelp and raging battle cry, Alisa hopped around, landing on one feet, and ready to vent all of her distress on whoever showed his face. Only to see nothing but a wall, hear nothing but the howling wind flowing through the hallways. And there she was, left in an idle, pointless flamingo stance as her eyes scanned for something to kick - and finding nothing -  thinking to herself, "...That... Defenitely wasn't the wind..."

Little did she know how it was a living man's call for help instead of a ghostly beckon, though thats what sounded like through however many walls and doors between the two. Gulping, she decided to investigate, stealthily knocking her fist on the walls and listening, "H-hello...?", she'd return her own call, only stopping when she found a door leading towards the same direction as the earlier voice.

Tugging on the door, she found it rusted and almost completely jammed, her efforts yielding nothing but an eerie metallic screech.

Frighteningly Beautiful

"Shall we dance?"
- Alisa Vollan

credit to nat of adoxography.

#3Noel Raion 

Republican Marches Empty on Sat Oct 29, 2016 2:04 pm

Noel Raion
Test of wit.

The sound of clacking heels could be heard throughout the first portion of the asylum. The holding cell the man was in was roughly in the center. Recollections of the previous night were still lost. As the footsteps began coming closer, Maarschalk begun trying to identify the gender of the person wearing the heels. Mens shoe wear usually have thicker, flatter heels whereas women have thin long needle-like heels. Listening closely would also give him an indication of the layout of the place, obviously he noticed that the footsteps were still far away. He stopped struggling with his cuffs and laid back on the ground, after letting out a short sigh. Since getting up was a struggle in itself. He rested his head on the cold stone and began listening more closely. Closing his eyes to focus, he heard a shriek. In what kind of place was he? Maybe he was being pranked. Though that thought escaped him quickly, this seemed pretty serious since he was hurt before he woke up. Did he time travel? Now that was an option he could believe, that the person with the heels was an archaeologist, researching the place and got spooked by something else that this person saw.

He listened closely again. The sound of the heels were sharp and quite loud, they didn't have much tremble. It also was from very far away, as the echo carried most of the noise. This was definitely the heel that females wore. If he was any better at this, he could determine her weight, length and some other details - like personality, by listening closely and listening to how she would walk and how she carries herself, swaying her hips or not swaying her hips. Unfortunately, he wasn't that good with his ears. The footsteps began coming closer, the man already had an idea of how the place was set up. He was on the second floor, out of perhaps maybe ten? It was unclear to him. Maarschalk got up again and sat in the center of the room, he figured that these footsteps were walking to him. It was too coincidental, right? Or maybe she had heard him prior, either way. She was close.

It wouldn't do him much sense to yell out for her, he would probably scare her. That was until he heard the voice speak out towards him. Which was unusual, curiosity? Was that the emotion that drove her towards him? There wasn't much he could say in this situation to redeem himself, this seemed like a prison and she was wandering about. Given the appearance of this place, there was no way she'd pull him out of there without thinking about it hard. Thus he had to come up with a scheme to sort of force her to help him get free - but how would he force someone to aid him when he's in a situation such as this? He had an idea.

'Why did you put me here?'

He said, conservatively. Making her seem like the guilty one would compel her to show the stranger who's accusing her of something she didn't do that she's innocent, right? At least, that's Maarschalks reasoning, he was quite smart - capable of manipulating people and wasn't afraid to be bold in situations such as these, bold enough to lie.

'What did you want to achieve by getting me here?'

Further enforcing the idea that she was the one responsible for this. While he spoke, he stood up, and tried peeking from between the cell bars. He couldn't directly see her, maybe she close but not in his line of sight. Accusing a person of a crime is a very strong thing. Getting out of this predicament was his top priority. Figuring out how and why he got came second.


Republican Marches Empty on Sat Oct 29, 2016 5:31 pm


WORDS: 961 | TAG: @Maarschalk | CLOTHES

Logic... Right, logic... Whoever said Diamonds are a girl's best friend clearly never wandered around a dark madhouse alone, hearing creepy noises all over the place. She knew there had to be a logical explanation for that voice, one that didn't involve ghosts. Unless her mind played any more tricks on her, the stylish mage would find the answer simply by moving closer just as she'd been doing up until now. For the time being, the shrill metal on stone floor screech deafaned out everything else, particulary Alisa herself, and ironically made clearing her uneasy mind much easier.

With this renewed focus, she wondered who - and hopefully not what - she might find beyond this door... Certainly not the source of the voice, not immediately anyways. Judging by how poorly she heard it the first time, she'd need to go a bit deeper before reaching that far. As the door finally began yielding, Alisa gradually forced it in with quick, repeated pushes, just so she wouldn't end up falling flat on her face by going all in like an idiot. Who knows what manner of filth might be spread around these floors... And finally, it swung upon. In no time the relatively relaxing metalic creak fell silent, replaced by the unsettling background noise that made her hair stand on end. And then once again, a voice...

This time, Alisa was somewhat prepared and avoided a scaredy jump like last time, but also close enough someone what make out what words were said. A man (or a very masculine sounding girl) asking why he was here, asking his captor why he'd been put there. Fortunately, it defenitely sounded like a human voice, so now she could safely assume that much. Perhaps someone like her who lost a bet? In retrospective, Alisa and her drinking buddies can't have been the only ones to think of this could they? It didn't take a genious to realize he was aware of her presence, but without a way to confirm her identity, assumed he was talking to his captor.

No matter how she tried to process it, these were the kind of words she'd ask after finding herself trapped in such a place, with no idea as to who did it or why. Even if he did, these same words could be used to tell who was coming without compromising himself; at least that's what Alisa would do. Thus, the words had no meaning to her personally - this being was her first time here and for a good reason - but then again the man had no way of knowing that. A fresh reminder of just how little she knew, and ignorant she would remain unless she investigated. For now, however, her compassionate side shone through her glacial focus, telling her to say what she could so he knew she wasn't who he thought:

"It's not me!", she answered, trying her best to relax the soundly distressed man with a graceful, soothing voice, "...Hold on, I'm coming over!"

Knowing she was probably dealing with a living human helped her keep her cool and collected composure, and listening closely allowed her to home in on yet another door even through the dim lighting. Turned out the humidity hadn't completely rusted this door shut. Resting her weight on one hand next to the handle, she pulled on the door once, twice, thrice, and finally, it broke one with a loud crash. And there it was, the source of the voice.

A chained and blindfolded man stood locked within a cell, his most distinguishing feature was of course his height. Now Alisa wasn't short by any means, and certainly wasn't used to needing to look up. Then again, so long as he had a blindfold, there was no need to do so. The second thing she noticed were his clothes: While a bit messy on account of his discount quality lodging, they were fresh enough to indicate he couldn't have been here long, no longer than a whole day if that much.

In a matter of seconds, young woman's mind assessed the choices before her and the more obvious consequences. If she left him there, one of two things could happen: He either remained trapped forever and starved to death, or he could somehow break through his rusty coils and leave on his own, in which case her help wouldn't make any difference. Could this man turn out to be dangerous to her? Possibly... But the bars or chains didn't really look strong, enough that a guy that big could escape while she was still inside the same building, he could end up being way more troublesome.

In the end, she wasn't enough of a bitch to leave a person to rot, chained away in a place like this, but neither was she naive enough to up and free him without at least talking to him first, "...Like I said, I don't know who you are or who put you here.", she spoke, approaching the bars with a calm but serious look, "...I'll take off your blindfold now.", so all he had to do was approach the bars and Alisa would just that. She had enough compassion in her voice for him to grasp her intent to help if he cared enough to pick it up.

He defenitely sounded like he wanted to get out of her (seriously, who wouldn't?), and no way she'd free a man who wouldn't even look her in the eyes...

Frighteningly Beautiful

"Shall we dance?"
- Alisa Vollan

credit to nat of adoxography.

#5Noel Raion 

Republican Marches Empty on Sun Oct 30, 2016 7:43 pm

Noel Raion
/2 + 7 don't make me break it

His head had moved, the voice had responded to his inquiries. It wasn't what he expected, well -- the man tried his best expecting the unexpected. In this case, it wouldn't work out. The sound coming from the girl wasn't as stern as he expected. He expected something to the contrary of what was in this place. Which was somewhat fitting, given her soft voice. Though her ignorance also proved something he wasn't a fan of. This was ignorance in its prime. But, was she not as ignorant, would this be the mans final resting place? These ideas put the man in a spin as the girl was trying to find a way to release him into the world. He was in deep thought. Ignorance; the one attribute he hated so. Being melt into something he can come to terms with, should it benefit him.  The loud crash stopped him from zoning out further and questioning these things.

He figured that he got through the obstacle that was blocking her from entering the hallway. Good. The figure moved back to the bars of the cell, and tried sticking his out his head, but to no avail. He came to the conclusion that standing up would do him no good, a childhood of bullying made him learn better. Thus he slouched, and the upper part of his torso somehow leant forwards towards the bars of the prison. This made Maarschalk shorter than he actually is. He scanned the light for an absence of light, this concept sounds strange but he tried looking for a shadow. A thought had hit him, what if he was the one being ignorant? Troubled as the situation might have seemed, what if she had been a killer. Suddenly, the imaginary tables had turned against the mans inner discussion. He needed to stall for time. There was no way for him to do that though, at least, not without giving the girl some suspicions. She spoke, once more, this time quite close to him. Wanting to take his blindfold off. Should he completely trust this stranger with his life? It seemed like he had no other choice. He set one step forward but then stopped himself.

'Are you sure you want to save me?'

'What if I'm a criminal'

The man didn't know in what kind of place he was in, it could have been a regular old jail but it wasn't. It was a mental asylum, with a sort of similar set ups.  None if any criminals were ever sent here, not to mention it was completely abandoned. The fact that Maarschalk said that he could be a criminal further should further prove his innocence.

Then there was the issue of her, being here, coincidentally. He could easily perceive this as a trap being set up. She could be holding a knife so she could gut Maarschalk as fast as he put his face against the bars. Which he didn't do for this reason. It seemed quite strange, calling out her skepticism because he was skeptical himself.

'Why should I trust you anyway?'

'Isn't it coincidental, that you're here, in an abandoned prison, hmm?'

He said, the little light that shun into his prison revealed the slight smug smile that had appeared on his muck. Even though he was in chains, and had a blindfold around his head he was still this sassy. His tongue was as sharp as a sword. He began to think up a plan in order to subdue her, should he have the opportunity to, after being released of course.

Depending on her reaction, Maarschalk already would have started a series of actions. He started with his wrists, trying to rid himself off the cuffs that chained him. Though this had proven to be unsuccessful. He wasn't very stealthy in his attempt to, this could alarm the female.  


Republican Marches Empty on Mon Oct 31, 2016 10:00 am


WORDS: 820 | TAG: @Maarschalk | CLOTHES

This guy... He was defenitely not an ordinary person, too calm and collected even though he was in a situation like this. Were it her, she would jump at the chance of being released, even if that person was an enemy. Though she could also be a little paranoid, she was also way too prissy to accept such subpar living arrangements. Enough for Alisa keep in mind how this was likely not someone whose intentions she might be fully able to grasp, not at first glance like she so often did...

His captor would defenitely remember where he chained the man, but anyone else like Alisa wouldn't have found him past so many jammed doors. But here he was, asking a potential rescuer if he was a criminal for reasons she could only justify as any form of reverse psychology. That or he didn't want to be saved by a woman, some men are old school like that. Yet there was a limit to how much she could figure out just based on "thats what I would do"...

"And what if you're not?", a blunt answer that got the point across, as Alisa wasn't the type to judge with so little information. If this man had been chained in a proper jail, she'd have leaned more into that trained though, "Besides, chaining a man in an abandoned madhouse doesn't sound very righteous now, does it?"

Indeed, in her mind, this guy didn't look like the nicest around, but his captor could easily be worse, enough that she didn't really feel like helping any such people. It was one of those cases where the man before could a criminal, but the one who captured him defenitely was.

But then, it appeared the jailed man wasn't too keen on trusting her either. So she wasn't the only one with trust issues, huh? That's somewhat refreshing to know. Soon she realized how trust issues wasn't all they had in common and the mysterious prisioner would find he wasn't the only one with a venomous tongue:

"Oh wow, of all the spooky abandoned madhouses in Crocus we could have entered on Halloween, we just had to wind up in the same one!! What a surprise...", she answered sarcastically, pointing out the obvious in how this was that time of the year. This was also the only nearby abandoned madhouse she heard about, but then she wasn't really a citizen of Crocus in the first place

Fact of the matter was, she had no way to prove him she was worth trusting if he didn't even appoach the bars. It the guy was as clever as he sounded, he would likely realize this at some point or another. If he did it with her around, he could get his blindfold removed at any time:

"I'm not the one behind bars and chained to a wall... If you'd rather stay there, I won't force you to come out.", she shrugged, casually leaning against the opposite wall and crossing her arms, tracking every movement with what little. Even now she clearly preferred the sound of another human voice.

Alisa wasn't here for him, her choice of words further highligthing that fact. Though Alisa bore him no ill will, she'd only release him on her own terms. So he had all the power in his hands, the power to choose his fate. Be released by the devil he knows, or wait for the devil he doesnt.

If the man jangled the chains around trying to escape even while they talked (finally a more natural attitude), this would only reiterate her point, "But... I wonder if you'll get loose before your real enemy arrives. If somebody chained you there and it wasn't me, how long do you have until they show up? Well I guess you can probably get loose in what 15 minutes depending on how rusty that metal is. Otherwise it could take hours... days even..."

Two can play this game as he would soon find out... Talking about the real enemy helped get the point across, reminding the chained man how a woman who couldn't even get to him was the least of his concerns:

At this point, the young woman considered a far more troubling thought. Someone had chained a prisioner in this place and could return at any time. If she was still around she could become his next victim, "...If he does come back, I can move around and fight. Can you say the same for yourself?"

Frighteningly Beautiful

"Shall we dance?"
- Alisa Vollan

credit to nat of adoxography.

#7Noel Raion 

Republican Marches Empty on Tue Nov 01, 2016 7:26 pm

Noel Raion
/2 + 7

The man had found himself to be in a strange situation. Where he was, in a cell, arguing against his possible savior that he might be guilty, whilst the savior was trying to argue that he wasn't guilty. And she was right. Based on her ability to argue, Maarschalk thought highly of her intelligence. Not as high as his own, of course -- but compared to most others she blinked out on top. Their exchange of sassy and sarcastic remarks brought them nowhere. The man was still blindfolded and cuffed. As it had turned out, this was a madhouse. The idea in itself had proved to be a  dangerous thing. Doubting himself, maybe he snapped - maybe that's how he got here? It was Halloween, so he figured that he couldn't have been out for more than a night. An awkward silence followed from the figure after it had been revealed where he was, and when it was (Halloween). She mentioned the possibility of a real enemy, that's right, he couldn't have cuffed and blindfolded himself. A possible threat was certainly possible, one that he should avoid if possible. Though the multiple mentions of threat certainly didn't convince him more of her innocence. He had no other choice rather than to cave in and believe her. He moved to the bars of the cell and slightly bent forwards, his head almost resting against the bars.

'Very well, you have convinced a man in a madhouse that he is innocent.'

He jokingly said, the lack of light had done him no good. At this moment, it was the start of the night, and the stars had begun to shine. Alas, he couldn't perceive this because of a lack of a window in his cell. The reason why he held out his head so close to the bars was that so she could take the blindfold of, had she done so and given Maarschalk the ability to see, he'd continue with these actions. Blinking, that's the first thing he did - a lot of blinking, some of his vision was still a blur, colors were clear but most objects had a vague, Gaussian blur to them. First he looked down, letting his eyes adjust to the light. He squinted his eyes in an attempt to look at his possible captor or savior; black hair with a tint of blue and cherry red eyes is what he met. Certainly not short either. Her eyes were big, almost cartoon- big. In contrast, the man had dark-blue hair, similar to hers and teal colored eyes. He looked down on his clothes and noticed his missing cross, his religious necklace. He let out a subtle groan, not one that the woman could hear unless she was standing close. The asylum was pretty cold, the combination of autumn weather and the time of day certainly didn't make the asylum a comfortable place. He was still cuffed, though after having struggled against his cuffs during their entire conversation he had managed to loosen it to a breaking point. It didn't take much more strength to finally break it, the cuffs were still around his wrists but they didn't held his wrists together, or leave him chained in the cell. His gray shirt had a big flick of blood on it, already dried up. The tips of his fingers couldn't feel any open wound on his torso, nor did he feel a sensation of pain elsewhere. Looking back at the woman he noticed her odd uniform, while it wasn't very odd in normal daily activities, it was odd to wear such during a visit to the local asylum.

'So, what is your name?'

He begun asking, thinking of her as, 'the woman, the girl', or terms related begun becoming a bother - identifying her by her name would be a good start to getting out of here.

'My name Maarschalk Raion, most people around these parts refer to me by my last name. I'm quite an old man, you see.'

The self-deprecating humor would rarely if ever stop.  

After their introduction was presumed to be done; the man needed to figure out where he was and who placed him here. The man had begun to notice other sounds. Was it the creaking old asylum that made these sounds, or was it another source; a person? Or maybe another type of being.

His cell was still locked, he wondered if the girl had noticed the sounds as well. He intentionally didn't move and looked into firmly looked into her eyes to sort of signify that he had noticed. It wasn't a pass at her or anything.

As soon as the sound had stopped, he begun speaking again.

'Doesn't seem to me that we're alone here. Asking a person wearing heels to kick open a cell-door seems like a cruel thing to do, so I'd like to invite you to step back a bit.'

The tall male said, before getting into a position to kick open the cell door that contained him. Using a proper fighting-technique, he had motioned his body in a way to convert the most amount of energy from his body towards the cell door: and in doing so he broke the lock of the prison cell. That was proven to be a mistake, sure it was successful - that wasn't the issue, the issue was that it made a lot of noise. After having kicked open the cell door, Maarschalk got out of his cell. This was the first time he saw face to face with the lady without being behind bars.


Republican Marches Empty on Wed Nov 02, 2016 12:21 pm


WORDS: 984 | TAG: @Maarschalk | CLOTHES

Whether he yielded to her logic, had enough of arguing, or simply decided to trust her a little, the man now looked a little more accepting of her assistance, but as it would soon turn out he had very little need for it. If he hadn't figured out where he was, Alisa had been able to help him with at least that much, which would come in handy once he had enough of this setting and wanted to go back to wherever he was living. As he approached the bars, Alisa followed suit and approached them:

"That was easier than I thought.", she chuckled, answering with a similar jesting tone as she finally pulled off his blindfold.

She looked at him curiously as she adjusted to the light, not really sure what to think at first. Since this was someone whose intentions she had trouble understanding, it wasn't really that surprising... He defenitely looked like an older man, even from what little she'd seen of him before, and wagered he couldn't be much younger than her dad. Maybe five years or so? He had a certain emptiness in his eyes, something she only saw in those aged beyond their years. After examined his outfit, or rather the state it was in - sounding naturally frustrated with it - and afterwards came the proof that he didn't really need her help to begin with, not with the physical side of things anyway:

"Look at that, turns out five minutes was all you needed.", she humorously pointed out, obviously aware he must have been struggling with his bonds ever since he found himself in that state.

Her calm nonchalance betrayed none of it, but she kept watch on his movements; after all she couldn't forget how this was still a man she met locked in a cell. It would take a while before she trusted him, but then this was true for most people, even those she met in socially acceptable situations. As a woman used to dealing with her own, she thoroughly believed they could come to an understanding, one that would satisfy both of their individual trust issues. This didn't stop from being graceful and cordial as she always was, and with her new acquaintance doing the same, her turn came right after. He introduced himself as Maarschalk Raion, defenitely an interesting name she hadn't heard before, though his given name sounded interestingly close to Marshall, making her wonder where he might be from and far that would be: "Mmm, I can see that.", she chuckled and crossing her arms with an agreeing nod. Her parents and uncle alike all taught her to respect her elders, and with him acting even older than the age she initially gave him - humorously as it may be  - Alisa naturally responded in kind with an elegant introduction, "I'm Alisa Vollan. Nice to meet you, Mr. Raion."

...Though granted, they would have been better places to meet than this.

As silence fell between the two, it allowed Alisa to once more hear those creepy sounds she was slowly getting used to, that was, until... Indeed, she caught wind of the strange new noises and wasn't really concerned with hiding it. She cocked her head slightly, properly pulling her hair behind her ear one side so she could better hear. Whatever this was, it sounded different. It sent the same shiver down her spine as the time when she first heard this man, "Hear that...?", she whispered to confirm he was hearing the same, and mostly ensuring her own voice wouldn't block out the noise.

Apparently he did for not long after Alisa picked up the sounds, the still jailed man got moving once more, inviting her to step back as he kicked down the door, "Such a gentleman~ Much appreciated.", she smiled, accepting the invitation and stepping back to give him a wide berth. For all her self reliance she certainly wouldn't insist on kicking down prison doors on high heels, as he promptly commented. She had enough confidence in her skills to do so and not break her foot if she wanted, but something had to give and it would likely be her heel. And goodbye shoes, it was nice wearing you...

As a martial artist herself, Alisa recognized his footing and kicking as proper form, enough to learn that if Maarschalk wasn't a trained martial artist, he had learned through years of experience. He could defenitely hold his own in a fight which begged the question of how his captor managed to lock him in there.

"If that turns out to be an enemy, we could ambush him here, he might not expect a second person.", thus being the well mannered girl she was, Alisa allowed the older man the last word, Though I understand if you'd rather not spend another minute in this room; so there's always the hallways: Better lit and easy to spot an attacker before they get too close."

If the choice was between ambush or be ambushed, one naturally would pick the former. If that was impossible, at least protecting yourself against ambushes would be better than nothing. Letting the enemy pick the battlefield, much less one he knows and expects, seldom worked out for her, and in a place like this, no way she'd afford the luxury of having anyone or anything get closer than an arm's length. For now, she'd settle with wondering what the newly freed captive would want to do...

Frighteningly Beautiful

"Shall we dance?"
- Alisa Vollan

credit to nat of adoxography.

#9Noel Raion 

Republican Marches Empty on Sat Nov 05, 2016 12:16 pm

Noel Raion
Inner =/= outer demons

She called herself by Alisa Vollan. Her first name wasn't too uncommon; it was her last name that he was thinking about - albeit considering his current situation he didn't give it as much thought as he usually does. Names are a very interesting thing to Maarschalk. He watched her say her name as well, knowing that some people of the 'higher' classes so to speak curtsy naturally upon introducing themselves. She didn't curtsy or anything like that upon the introduction of herself. Then later she confirmed his thoughts; the noises were real and not something he had made up in his mind. This introduced a certain sense of urgency and invoked primal fear for the unknown. The thing that had captured him was probably lurking this asylum, awoken by the sounds of Maarschalk and Alisa talking to each other, and then the jail cell being kicked open - resulting in a loud blast. The girl mentioned setting up a perimeter to ambush the enemy.

'Hrmm, truth be told - whatever thing got me here probably overpowered me in a fight, resulting in me waking up all fucked up and no recollection of what had happened. Are you certain that the two of us ambushing this enemy is a good idea?'

Maarschalk said. - maybe it would be best if they remained away from this enemy; safely escaping first and then figuring out the situation would be a good idea. Although a contingency plan should they fail in escaping this asylum should be discussed. Even though Maarschalk pretty much got out of his jail without the help of the girl; he wouldn't want a repeat - especially considering he'd have to hear her annoying voice in another cell the entire time.

'I think escaping should be our priority, worry about whatever is lurking the shadows around here next. That being said, we need to know what to do when or rather if we do encounter this mysterious being.'

Bringing his hand to his face, he scratched his nose. This was a telltale sign showing that Maarschalk was in thought - perhaps he wasn't even listening to anything she had to say. His mind was filled with small details about how he would handle a potential ambush, a last second strategic step for when they encounter the enemy, and a plan for when they know that the enemy is closing in. After figuring those things out, he spoke.

'Alright: if possible we should avoid the enemy at least until we're out of the asylum and can get someone else to assist us if possible. If we know that this enemy is closing in on us, I want you to hide. The enemy will try to strike me and the idea of you hiding will be foreign enough. This means that you can catch this being in a surprise, so I need you to do a fair bit: that being, that you strike down the foe or you distract him and allow me to do so.'

He explained, now that was just the plan for if they knew that the being was coming. There were still more ideas that Maarschalk had -- but there wasn't more time to talk about them. Whatever the girl would say in response, he already started to walk out of the hallway and begun trailing the path that she had followed to get to Maarschalk; it'd probably lead to the exit. Being as silent as he could, he didn't desire to attract the attention of the enemy already.

'Maybe it's wise to take off your heels from this point out,'

He'd whisper towards the lady, had she still followed him - the clickity clackity heels made the noise that Maarschalk already had detected from when she came in, the enemy would do just the same.  After a short pause, Maarschalk headed onto the lower levels. The stairs that he took to get to the lower levels had light shining upon it. From the moon, through a crack in the ceiling that went from the top floor all the way down to the lower levels. Whatever caused that crack was probably the end of this prison like asylum, since it was huge. Perhaps one of the old prisoners had caused it with monstrous power? It was unclear - Maarschalk was a stranger in this town.

Maarschalk continued to look for the exit - as he looked he noticed the sound again. This time, much closer. No more than thirty meters away, he guessed. His philosophy was to remain silent until the sound faded away into the distance, this would let him know that his position was a secret, but that was proven to be a flaw based on one thing and one thing only - the fact that he was standing very closely to the stairs. Even though the moonlight wouldn't reveal his position, the fact that Alisa took the main stairs to find Maarschalk probably means it's one of the closest routes to his cell. Which implies that the person that is in fact his captor is headed towards the cell. Any other person who isn't his captor wouldn't be looking for Maarschalk and thus would stay away from the staircase. Thus, he had guessed that if this person approached the stairs, it was his captor. Maarschalk was standing close to a wall, there wasn't any position to hide without making a copious amount of noise. That might have not been the case for Alisa however.

The person who was making the noise was starting to get closer to the staircase; this had to be his captor - the enemy. A flashlight shines from the bottom to the top of the staircase, one that his enemy was wielding. A few centimeters away from the light was Maarschalk, who still was hiding in the shadows. He used his hand to signal Alisa to hide, and stick to his original plan. That plan being that she hid until Maarschalk until he and his captor already were in an ensuing fight; in which case, she was to sneak up and deliver a full blow to his captor to down him or her.

'Show yourself.'

The voice spoke holding the light. It was a manly voice, judging from how high the flashlight was being held - this person was quite tall. At least, that's what Maarschalk presumed. It was a deep, dark voice, akin to his own. It was finally time to meet his captor face to face. The fighting music had already begun to play inside his mind as he prepared himself for the worst to come. Maarschalk assumed a fighting position before speaking, one like those who practice muay thai. There was no reason for Maarschalk to speak and give him the upper hand - he was in a pinch though, since the light was almost directly pointed at him. From his first step on wards his captor would immediately know his position - but this did give him the upper hand, in which he's already moving before his captor is. And that is what he did - in full burst Maarschalk hauled ass and moved towards his captor. In which response, his captor immediately pointed his flashlight at Maarschalk.

'What the fuck!'

Spoken by his tall captor - Maarschalk noticed the light distancing itself whilst he was moving towards it. Was he fleeing? Why would he? Did he notice Alisa's position, and did that cause his surprised reaction? He was fast, not as fast as Maarschalk but fast enough to get to full speed whilst Maarschalk was chasing him. Their initial distance covered the fact that his captor was slightly running backwards, then sideways and go to full speed akin to himself. Though that didn't last too long; Maarschalk lunged out towards his captor - his jump was powerful and had a lot of energy. This was caused by the fact that he compressed his knees first, made himself aerodynamic and then converted all the energy his knees had gathered by compressing which resulted in a long jump that conveyed a lot of power. Power enough to tackle his captor to the ground, resulting in a chaotic situation: his captor had dropped the flashlight to protect his face whilst Maarschalk and he started wrestling against each other. The flashlight rolled over from the ground and shun some light on his captor. It was a face that Maarschalk recognized; it was his own. He was his captor? The captor was him? The real or fake Maarschalk who was being beaten by the real or fake Maarschalk who was on top of him used both of his arms to launch Maarschalk off him - in a similar fashion as to how he was tackled; by compressing his elbows and then releasing them with both of his hands formed into a fist - the fists transferred their monstrous energy and made the previous jailed Maarschalk fall off him, onto the cold floor. Immediately, the Maarschalk who arrived at the asylum as the 'captor' backed away and spoke some more;

'So your trick is to copy your enemies’ appearance to confuse them? What a weird power'

The captor Maarschalk said. Gathering himself and standing up again, he regained the upper hand - but for how long? The mystery had remained; who was the real Maarschalk? The captor Maarschalk wore his regular formal clothing, and had his religious symbol of a cross around his neck. The jailed Maarschalk panted and then tried getting up, only showing his teeth as he was smiling - relying on Alisa to take down captor Maarschalk. He had caused a distraction big enough.


Republican Marches Empty on Mon Nov 07, 2016 4:22 pm


WORDS: 1770 | TAG: @Maarschalk | CLOTHES

Introductions out of the way, the former prisioner and unfortunate explorer were ready to depart from this maddening place of madness, with Alisa still convinced they wouldn't make it out without fighting the new person, if it turned out to be an enemy. With his answer, Maarschalk provided one piece of the puzzle she was still missing, a piece certainly big enough to dissuade her from trying to ambush the captor. She didn't yet know how this man had been locked in here given his obvious combat experience and imposing physical presense. At first she'd have been more inclined to think he'd been ambushed in his sleep, or given a drug to knock him out. But according to him, the wasn't the case. His captor had overpowered and then beat him senseless, before finally sealing him away.

This new information made Alisa rub her cheek slightly, looking down and thinking out loud, "Hmmm, agreed... If he does stand between us and the exit, however, we'll defenitely need a countermeasure.", this was a thought Maarschalk clearly agreed with in his next statement, as Alisa nodded when he said they'd need a plan just in case they did meet up with him.

He went on to suggest for the girl to remain hidden, to another agreeing nod from the Blue Pegasus mage, "Makes sense. He'd defenitely know that you're here but might not be sure whether you have help. Even if he assumes someone released you, you can probably make him think we never teamed up after that."

In the end he had covered all the bases well enough that Alisa didn't need to correct or suggest anything else, and before long they were both heading out into the hallway. Or they would be if he didn't remember something important. Alisa was already stepping forward as gentle and silenty as all her nible grace allowed her, but at some point she might make a mistake and step a bit too hard, "Mmm... Good thought.", she whispered back. She clearly wasn't too happy with shredding her stockings on this floor, but was smart enough to understand why it was a good idea. They were naturally the reason Maarschalk realized she was here in the first place. Thus, she pulled off her heels and proceeded barefoot.

She allowed him to take the lead for the most part to better stay true to his plan, only tapping his shoulder and pointing in the right direction in case he'd make a mistake and head somewhere that not the exit. Which he didn't...

Once they reached the staircase, thats when things got interesting. The flash of light coming from below was a very human signal, what matter of ghost would use a flashlight? Knowing she was dealing with people visibly reassured her, and when Maarshalk signalled her to hide, she knew what to do. There weren't really any objects she could get behind in this hallway, what she could find were rooms, rooms and more rooms. As they prepared to put their plan into place, she stepped into one of those rooms, hiding in the darkness and pressing herself against the wall on the other side. This allowed her to not only remain hidden in the darkness, but also land the first strike on anyone who might attempt to enter that room. With all her training and experience, first strike was all she'd need...

Not long after, she heard a voice call out; "Show yourself", it said. But it was wierd. No matter how she examined it, it sounded exactly like Maarschalk's own - save for minute differences in tone - with the exception of his positioning being way off. Besides, the man she just freed didn't look like the type of person to willingly give away his position with such a pointless request. Two men with a similar voice then? That had to be it, even though Alisa found it hard to just pass it off as a coincidence.

After all a coincidence is just a lazy way to dismiss events without thinking too hard on them...

Not long after than, the fight began. She could hear running around in the hallways, and eventually people being thrown around. It was hard to tell who was winning or losing just from this, but this wasn't even the interesting part. The Captor kept on talking, and the words he set were as wierd as wierd could be. Was he... Accusing the former Captive of copying his appearance? Did Maarschalk posess some form of transformation magic? Curiosity welled up inside her and the more she tried to resist it, the harder that became. With this voice being projected away from her, she calculated the Captor must be looking away from her position, and naturally used this opportunity to peek out. Alisa didn't move her feet, just twisted her body to peek her head out, and even from this angle her eyes widened with the sight before her. Maarschalk was fighting a man who looked exactly like him! If not for his somewhat messed up clothing and the new one having a cross, it would be almost impossible to tell the two apart. With this knowledge, she peeked back inside before the Captor turned her way...

Alisa had no way of knowing which of the two Maarschalk was the real one; all she could do was keep in mind which was the one she helped free. His captor could just be taking his form after locking him there, or maybe it was the other way around: He could have met a doppelganger and chained him away. But if that was the case, why just imprison him? Alisa would have probably just killed him if she was worried about someone using her face to ruin her reputation.

Then there was the matter of the Captor guy's speech. Either he had never seen his doppelganger before and was genuinely surprised, or he suspected anyone might be nearby and wanted to sound innocent. The way he homed straight in on Maarschalk's cage implied he was indeed the captor - didn't confirm it with 100% certainty, but got pretty close - in which case he had to know who was in there and what did they look like. With this in mind, the second option would make a lot more sense. Assuming the Captor wasn't a complete idiot, he had to at least believe the cage he locked the prisioner in would hold him there until he came back. And if he did assume that, the logical conclusion from seeing him wandering around was he had help.

Thus If he was openly lying to turn this help against Captive Maarschalk, this gave even less reason for Alisa to do what he wanted. This guy was going down, for trying to trick her with something so basic if nothing else.

Following with the plan, Alisa remained hidden for a few moments longer, using the sounds of battle and footsteps, together with the Captor Maarschalk's blabbering, to get an accurate mental image of their positions, standing by until the best time to strike. A time that finally came once the fighting duo rolled right past the half closed door to her room. They weren't able to see each other, but since Alisa was silent and they weren't, that gave her the advantage do put her next plan into action...

Walking out on her tiptoes with a relaxed, quiet step, she saw the Captor Maarschalk with his back turned; she targeted him right after confirming his clothes were indeed in better shape than the one she freed. With them being no more than two meters away from her door and her shadow being cast away from them, he'd have no way to see her coming and hopefully the formerly captive Maarschalk wouldn't stare at her or do anything that might alert him.

Carefully adjusting her distance and position, Alisa raised her left leg as the man pulled his fist back for a punch, before twisting her hips unleashing a thrusting side kick at full power. She aimed her kick right at the man's spine, just below his ribcage, stretching her arms out the opposite direction right before impact to. This kept her from falling over with the reaction from her powerful kick, evidence that she too had formal training in martial arts. Instead of going for a powerful, likely one hit attack, she instead went for a much faster, if just as painful blow due to where it would hit. At best she'd completely break his spine and paralyze him from the legs down, at worst he'd reel over from the pain and give her a wide enough opening for the follow up.

After the sneak attack, she put that leg down with the feet bent slightly outwards, ready to twist her body for a Tornado kick: First her rear leg moved up front in a counter clockwise path, building angular momentum, a movement she repeated twice for a full 530º degrees spin. For the final 180, however, she sprung up on her left leg and unleashed her most powerful kick straight to the staggered enemy's head. As he'd be hit from the side the damage would be enough to cleanly knock him out. If it just so happened that she wasn't able to reach his head, she'd aim her kick for his ribcage instead. By properly angling and moving her arms helped her build momentum a lot faster, enough that she'd be able to execute both the straight kick, and the tornado in quick succession.

Alisa had been training in martial arts for almost her entire life, and this kick easily had the greatest burst power of any of her techniques. The 540 spin however, meant it could only be used against a staggered foe: Even though it took only a split second, the movement would be predictable if someone were to see her executing it.

She stood ready to correct her movements at all times, and back away from any counter the Captor Maarschalk might unleash, but also to get back in there and strike him should he turn to the Captive Maarschalk: With him on one side and Alisa on the other, Captor Maarschalk would find it hard to defend himself, heralding his defeat...

Frighteningly Beautiful

"Shall we dance?"
- Alisa Vollan

credit to nat of adoxography.

#11Noel Raion 

Republican Marches Empty on Wed Nov 09, 2016 5:06 pm

Noel Raion
/2 + 7

The footsteps were not heard by the Maarschalk who wore the cross. Whom at the time of the sneaking around was talking against the Maarschalk who was captured. The captured Maarschalk tried getting up, the blows delivered to his chest almost had him stunned. Moving was difficult, as was thinking properly. The cross wearing Maarschalk wasn't planning on letting him get up, but alas he was interrupted by the other being that stalked the shadows. This happened simultaneously with his elbow arching backwards, in preparation to strike the Maarschalk who tried getting up. This meant that his guard was almost completely dropped, which allowed the interruption to happen - and furthermore not minimizing damage by any percent.

The thunderous weather outside regularly caused a flash of light to reach the inside of the asylum, caused by natural lightning and its energy. Though also unfortunate for the cross wearing Maarschalk, he stood in a position that couldn't utilize this flash of light - considering the sneaking around that was done prior. Though what was noticeable, however, was that the jailed Maarschalk wore no shadow. He hadn't any, akin to a vampire. This could be related to his magic, or that he might be the doppelgänger.

The sound that the cross wearing Maarschalk made when the kick had connected to the spine was a one-in-only-sound that only those experiencing a sucker punch are aware of. As if he was put thousands of miles deep into the sea, and the pressure blew him up from the inside. It was something that described the agony as quick as it could as fast as it could. Somewhat understandable if perceived as distorted, other-worldly almost. An involuntary groan caused by the involuntary escape of air from his chest.


But then, ten times as fast.

Because of the forward moving initial motion prompted by the punch, the second sequence of actions originating from the women fell short. It allowed the cross wearing Maarschalk to defend the relevant body parts, and this was done by allowing his body to absorb the blow in order to move his body so his back wouldn't be facing her any longer. This happened after the kick had connected with his back, he motioned forward from the punch and the kick propelled him even further, having his body now almost turned sideways. This allowed him to see her almost obvious sequence of actions - because of the agony he was in, he couldn't think straight and deduct that she was a trained fighter. He was purely focusing on defending his body from any external threats. And purely instinctively he wound up defending his head with one arm, whilst his other arm was busy trying to soften the blow from falling because of the first kick. As this happened, a loud snap was easily hearable from the distance, jailed Maarschalk revealed his identity. Or rather, this time ' it ' wore Alisa's face - and body. Which gave a weird sight, considering the oversized clothes, but even that began to transform into what seemed to be Alisa's clothing as well. This being had perfected the appearance copy technique, nailing it down to the detail.

Because of the kick delivered to his spine, and the expected follow up, Maarschalk used the pointy end of his elbow to defend his head from any incoming kicks. A true fighter would cringe at the thought of delivering a kick by the shins, only to have the kick blocked by the pointy end of the elbow. It is literally career-ending, depending on how hard the kick was delivered. Not to mention the pain and the permanent psychological damage this type of block would induce. No matter what the result of the potential block is; Maarschalk, the real Maarschalk as it had been revealed would still be weary of the female who was unknown to him - even if he had noticed the doppelgänger changing forms - who’s to say that this person wasn't or isn't the companion or whatever of the doppelgänger? After allowing himself to drop to the ground, using his hand that he used to soften the landing to lower him further, he used the heel of his shoe to try and distance himself from the doppelganger and the female. Maybe she'd been had just like he was? And that's why the doppelgänger changed its face into hers. Was he to trust her with his life, moments after she kicked and almost shattered his spine?

Certain death was quite close to Maarschalk - he had guessed that he wouldn't make it out of here alive without the help of someone else. His fingertips began feeling numb from the left side of his body, this was the kick taking affect after the adrenaline had been gone.

Then, another snap of the fingers was heard, and the doppelgänger had seemingly disappeared. This led Maarschalk to deduct that it was using his spells; he had to trust her.

'She--he, it! Whatever the fuck is using my spells! It's using my invisible spell, cast away the shadows to see this beast!'

--inner dialogue-- or, you know, kill me.

The flashing lightning revealed the doppelgänger, moving towards Alisa - considering that Maarschalk knew the disadvantages of his spells, and his doppelgänger presumably didn't, he figured that he'd need to be smart with what he revealed to the female. As this happened, the true figure of the beast was revealed; along with its weakness: it's only capable of using 1 spell at the same time.


Republican Marches Empty on Sat Nov 12, 2016 2:52 pm


[quote="Alisa Vollan"]

WORDS: 980 | TAG: @Maarschalk | CLOTHES

Something here was off... Alisa felt something off with this whole place since she entered, naturally, considering it was an abandoned madhouse. But as she struck the "Captor" Maarschalk, thats when that really bad feeling reached its peak: The flash of lightning heralded a coming thunderstorm, but also announced something much worse revealing the "man" she'd been helping to completely lack a shadow. No way her mind was playing tricks on her, not with how alert she just was. In the end she didn't know which thought was worse, that he wasn't human, or that she had just seriously wounded the person it was imitating.

She was so desperate to find another living soul in this place she completely failed to notice the biggest lie the chained man had fed her, one that threw a wrench in all her logic without him even speaking it.

Like any martial artist worth her salt, she knew better than to strike without properly observing her foe before, during, and after the deed. Between this and seeing the cross-wearing Maarschalk raise his elbow in her path, she had more than enough warning signs going off in her head to trigger a simple reflex: By not stretching out her shin, she turned the kick into a simple feint that harmessly whizzed past her former target, quickly dashing away when her feet touched the ground.

The adrenaline of the fight helped shut out the uneasy voices, but once Alisa disengaged the wrong foe, her eyes widened in shock at the sight. No matter how cool she was, no matter how much she might suspect he could do it, there was something visceral about watching someone assume your face right in front of you. For Alisa, that shock was soon replaced a very controlled, frigid fury, a desire to viciously punish the deciever who not only made her strike another human for no reason, but was now further adding insult to injury.

As for the man she'd hit... It would be hard for him to believe it, but she meant him no harm, not after realizing the deception, "Doubt it's worth much after that hit but... I'm sorry about that.", she whispered just loud enough for him to hear. She wouldn't expect him to trust her as he too distanced himself and Alisa took her stance, facing the Doppel.

she held both arms leveled with her chest, hands perfectly alined with her center, a stance characteristic of Wing Chun, and observed the doppleganger... Or at least she tried, as with a snap of his fingers, he completely vanished. Magic huh?

Reflexively focusing on her hearing now that the creature had gotten past her sight, Alisa slowly stepped backwards, striving for the same distance - roughly 6 meters - as they had before. At the same time, she kept her eyes fixed on where she expected her foe might be. Hopefully something in the ground would give its position away; but at least he would still need to dash to her to match her walking speed, in which case his footsteps would do the trick.

But while the following flash of light hinted to this spell's limit to shadows, she couldn't realistically fight an invisible man while waiting for a thunderbolt. Alisa was confident he lacked any ranged spells since he was just closing the distance and didn't use a ranged attack, either that or it would break his invisibility... Since she didn't know the real Maarschalk or his magic, she had no way of even grasping this thing might actually be able to imitate a person's magic, which in itself would be more advanced a power than simply copying appearances.

Remembering half of the hallways were flooded from leaky walls and ceiling (especially with the thunderstorm), she backed away turning towards next corner, and success! She didn't flinch or react in any way when feeling a large puddle at her feet, and only walked back further. It covered that whole portion of the hallway for over ten meters length, leaving the Doppelganger with no choice but to fight her there... It wouldn't be easy for her and the real Maarschalk to trust each other, but in this situation their common enemy could prove troublesome if they were fighting each other aside from it. Hopefully he'd understand her idea and follow suit into the same puddle...

As for the Doppelganger, If it did follow her and set foot into the large puddle - with the unmistakable ripples in the surface revealing his position - then she would proceed with the following action, roughly 4 meters away from him: With her cool and skill at deception allowed her to act realistically when need be, and with a frustrated click of her tongue, she'd throw a punch seemingly at random, along with an eardrum bursting battle cry, "CHAAAAAAI!!", meant to hide the splash as she shifted her footing, and with a little luck maybe even startle the Doppelganger for the following move. Amidst the punch, she hardened her attacking fist and fired a crystal projectile visibly off course, keeping with the frustrated potshot act.

Name: Shatter

Rank: D
Mana Cost: 25
Requirements: Crystal Magic
Type: Offensive
Element: N/A (Crystal)
Range: 5 Meters
Cooldown: 1 Posts
Duration: Instant/Sustained
Effect: When executing an unarmed strike, Alisa hardens the attacking limb, launching a compressed crystalline orb flying towards the target. Through a combination of willpower and angle, she can curve the trajectory somewhat. On impact or when hitting max range, it shattering into a 1m3 fragmentation blast, dealing D-rank hybrid blunt and slashing damage, with the smaller fragments behave like sharp grains of sand. She can explode it earlier by snapping her finger. If her attack connects before the projectile is launched, she'll instead concentrate the damage on the the impact area, narrowing the shattering effect to about twice the width of the blow. By sustaining the spell Alisa retains the hardening effect and can fire repeatedly, but can only switch the affected limb once per turn.

What the Doppel might miss was how she fired the projectile as a calculated trick shot: With a very faint curve, one that was almost imperceptible at first, but would eventually shift enough to strike the Doppelganger right in the chest, causing a wide enough shrapnel blast to get sandy crystal dust in his eyes. Even if he somehow saw this coming and moved aside, she'd snap her finger to detonate the fragmentation blast, once her foe's vertical axix (above his footprints) was within the fragmentation radius...

As she watched the events unfold, she kept her guard up and senses sharp, expecting the unexpected...

Frighteningly Beautiful

"Shall we dance?"
- Alisa Vollan

credit to nat of adoxography.

#13Noel Raion 

Republican Marches Empty on Wed Nov 16, 2016 9:20 am

Noel Raion
at least you didn't wear heels before the kick

After Maarschalk had spoken, the flashing of light frequently made the evil doppelganger stick out. He used the timing of the lightning to calculate where the being was going. He judged the first two flashes and found out that the doppelganger was heading for the woman. This indicated that the doppelganger was not teamed up with the woman, further proving his cause and allowing himself to trust her some more. And that's what he did. They were fighting in a shallow puddle, this allowed the girl to see the doppelganger moving. Not Maarschalk though, since he was halfway bolted to the floor and away from this puddle. He used the palm of his hand to elevate himself some more, and prepare a counterattack. It was difficult to trust someone who just axe-heeled his spine - but that showed Maarschalks strong mental fortitude to be able to adapt to any situation. Maarschalk got up with great difficulty, but once he got up, he formed a fist and used his spell that makes him silent. As well as flexing his left arm - giving him the ability to fly. This took away the need to walk, and his (near)broken spine wouldn't affect him any longer. With his inferior speed, he flew towards the doppelganger, using the puddle that the girl had shifted herself towards. Using his aerodynamic speed, he flew behind the doppelganger and with the girl simultaneously making a move, he wrapped his arm around its neck and used a choke hold to snap its fat neck. Because of his superior strength, its neck and its spine were almost instantly severed. He then let go of the doppelganger, since he didn't cloak himself he was still visible to the girl.

'That was rude of you.'

He spoke in a brittle and harsh voice.

'I will not forget this.'

Were his last words spoken, before he continued the use of his levitation to fly towards the hole in the ceiling and flee the building. Whether he had made an enemy or a friend was unclear, the footprint that stamped his back was certainly a token of their meeting. His goal was towards somewhere safe first, then his destination was somewhere or someone that could fix his back.



Republican Marches Empty on Fri Nov 25, 2016 4:07 pm


WORDS: 410 | TAG: @Maarschalk | CLOTHES

Success!! For all acts and plays she might have put on, Alisa's attack was essentially a potshot. Even with a pretty good idea of where her foe was she had no clue as to whether he might be leaning forwards, backwards or even crouching. She expected the ability to explode the projectile regardless of contact to be essential to score a hit on such a dodgy foe, but even that proved unnecessary when her attack knocked her foe cleanly, with a pained grunt reaching her ears as another thunder struck, confirming it. Alisa prepared a followup, but then held back, only for a split second.

It hadn't escaped her notice how the guy she wounded was now sneaking up on the doppel, but it did strike her as odd how the manproduced such eerily similar spells to the ones their common foe were facing. Coincidence? No, there had to be a logical explanation, even if she couldn't see it immediately, she'd figure it out eventually. For now, she settled for staring down the enemy as if getting ready for his next move, her body language giving no signs to the approaching sneak attack.

And that was all she wrote.

With a perfectly calculated move, the man snuck behind the doppleganger and promptly snapped its neck, ending the threat once and for all. With this, he proceeded to adress in a raspy voice, stating he wouldn't forget this:

"Don't worry... I won't either.", she'd speak sullemnly - with a look of disappointed regret - visibly not happy with having nearly crippled the wrong target. It was a throwback to years past and actions a girl would rather not be reminded of. There was no way she could forget, even if she tried, but then part of her hoped she'd never forget the past mistakes, so she wouldn't repeat them again.

At least not for the same reason. As the guy flew up a hole in the roof, she too turned on her heel and went back to retreive her shoes befoe doing anything else. But as she headed out, Alisa noticed the wierd sightings weren't over yet:

"Ooh...? What's that...?", she thought to herself, catching the sight of an eerie light a few yards away...

No matter how she looked at it, that looked like... Blue candlelight?

[Topic end]

Frighteningly Beautiful

"Shall we dance?"
- Alisa Vollan

credit to nat of adoxography.

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