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originally posted in:The New Dojo
originally posted in: THE DOJO
10/22/2016 7:12:10 PM
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Orn
Orn

[i]Breath in.[/i] [i]Breath out.[/i] [i]Pull the trigger.[/i] [i]The click of a trigger was heard as a loud BOOM! resounded, the noise coming from the barrel of a modified Evelyn flintlock-style pistol, crafted in Cainhurst and upgraded rather heavily. The silver ball shot out of the barrel immediately after the racket sounded; crafted out of silver and holding shrapnel within it's core, the ball was the size of a .44 Magnum round, while the Evelyn itself fired with the force of a Smith and Weston 500 Magnum revolver, which sent the gloved hand that fired the weapon straight back. How a brass and steel barrel could handle that much firepower would seem rather surprising to most, but it was within the craftsmanship of the pistol itself that made the idea work. The billet sped onwards, until it found it's way into the forehead of a particular Vileblood, splintering her skull open and tearing through her frontal lobe and more with relative ease.[/i] [i]Her light blue eyes rolling back into her shattered skull, Irina's now dead body fell to the ceramic floor with a surprisingly light thud, dark blood beginning to pour out of the killing blow within her skull. And the one that delivered the blow itself?[/i] [u]"Simulation: Complete.[/u] [u]Status of 'Irina S. Eiliza': Successful.[/u] [u]New Record: 0:22."[/u] [i]The smoke cleared from the barrel of the Evelyn, revealing the strikingly pale, angular face of 'Irina S. Eiliza', or simply Irina. With high, shallow cheekbones, smooth pale skin, pinkish lips and a perfectly fine forehead, unlike her counterpart in front of her, Irina's cold, light blue eyes stared at the dead clone of her that she had murdered in less that thirty seconds with a singular shot from her Evelyn, expressionless as the dead Irina began to fade away into black cubes and into the air, leaving no traces of her very existence in the first place. Irina's platinum blonde hair was tied back in a long ponytail that rested upon her back, although some of her surprisingly neat hair rested in her light blue eyes still. A slight smile appeared on Irina's face as her laced up gloved hand then holstered her Evelyn at her side, alongside a long brass sheath that held a sword within, held to a tight belt that wrapped around her waist. Resting upon the Vileblood's head was her trademark black leather tricorne hat, completed with a pure white feather plucked from a pigeon. Her outfit consisted of a dark grey longcoat that draped her body, alongside a previously white shirt and a handkerchief protruding from the neckpiece of the outfit. Her gloves were tightened by steel buttons, to ensure that they were not lost in combat. Irina's light tight pants were tightened more by the belt wrapped around her waist, while her feet we're hidden away by laced up leather boots. A long, tattered velvet red and dark leather cape protruded from her left shoulder, and simply waved as she made movements towards a wooden chair within the simulation.[/i] [i]The weapons that she had bore this day were rather unique in their own way as well. Alongside the brass sheath to her Rakuyo and the Evelyn she had just used to kill a clone of hers was a slightly curved, stainless katana with a stone hilt, which rested upon her clothed back and utilized straps to hold it in place. Also alongside her Evelyn was the handle of a lightsaber, a particularly odd yet useful weapon for the Vileblood to use. The final weapon that she bore that day was a simple katana blade, a weapon that belonged to Tesuto and something she intended to return to him. The blade was stainless and cared for, as if Irina actually valued it's very existence. [/i] [i]...Did she do the right thing, when she betrayed her own Queen, all because a samurai that guarded a place of fighting offered a way out of her suffering? Was it right to betray all of the men and women in New Illios, the ones that relied on her to bring victory to their nation, to guard them and protect them in their times of need?[/i] [i]Irina didn't know for sure. One second, she was a proud Vileblood that served the Immortals, and the next...here. Within the Dojo.[/i] [i]The simulation room that Irina was within was...unique, to say the least. It bore striking similarities to her home, the forbidden castle of Cainhurst, specifically the entrance hall to the building. Dark, bloodstained velvet rugs covered the stone ground as marble pillars rose up to the second floor, holding up the floors above Irina's head. The walls were decorated with fading paintings of the royal family and tattered flags and symbols, most including the symbol of the Vilebloods themselves. Torches and lanterns faintly lit up the dark entrance hallway, while wooden benches and chairs sat out to the side. The stone entrance was the entrance to the simulation itself, so a blurry wall covered it entirely. Overall, the place felt just like home to the Vileblood, as she felt rather..comfortable, funny enough. After a moment of staring at the masterful structures, Irina sighed lightly as she resumed what she was doing before, and made her way to a wooden chair that was almost against the wall. She did not rest within it just yet, but instead grasped the wooden structure of it and began pulling it quickly towards the center of the supposed arena. Irina then pointed it towards the entrance, and proceeded to plop down within the chair. She had to at least seem somewhat formal, although she thought centering herself in the middle of the room seemed rather snobbish. After a moment, she leaned back against the wooden seat, closing her light blue eyes as she waited for the inevitable challenger. [/i] (Open! Yeah, if you combat her, she will try to kill your ass.)
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    [i]I proceeded to enter the room, nodding towards Grant as I entered the Ranger's room and looked around, particularly at the walls and such. I was somewhat curious, I guess there was nothing wrong with that.[/i]

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  • [b]My room was covered in many posters, mostly NCR propaganda. My personal favorite was the one on the far side of the room, one with a picture of a Frumentarii. It read, 'Remember, if you surrender, you're becoming his bitch! Give 'em hell!" Always used to crack me up when I was a private. My room was a simple one, a dresser, a desk, and a bed. Well, and a liquor cabinet, but that's not important. What would really catch someone's eye would be my mannequin in the corner, with my old First Recon armor on. It had basic trooper gear, and a First Recon beret. It was red, with a bear skull with crosses rifles on a patch in the middle of the beret. Under it, the beret read [i]The last thing you'll never see.[/i] In the other corner of the room, there was a large pile of duffel bags. All green. All bulky with equipment.[/b]

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    [i]I stared idly at the posters that covered Grant's walls, a slight grin appearing on my face as I read the bitch one. I thought it was actually sorta cute, and had some comedic value at the same time. I always enjoyed things with comedy involved, and this place was no exception. I then looked over at Grant, my thin hands retreating to the depths of my coat's pockets.[/i]

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  • [b]I walk over to the duffel bags, and pick one up. I toss it to Irina, but not too hard. It was pretty heavy, I hope it didn't hurt her or somethin.[/b] "Basic stuff. Trooper armor. Goggles helmet. Service rifle. Combat knife. I need your full name to get your dog tags engraved."

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    [i]I caught it with relative ease, although the weight of the bag was quite noticeable indeed. After holding it up, I responded to Grant with a much happier tone to my voice.[/i] "Full name? Irina Scarlette Eilizia. I can spell it out for you, if you would like me to do so."

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  • "Nah, that should be fine. I'm good with stuff like that. If I fûck it up, I'll just get another pair done. Also, I need to give you a test before we go any farther. To see if you'll get in First Recon. 'The last thing you never see'. Heh. That's their motto. I used to be one of the few of First Recon. Meet me in the sim room. I'll give you a sniper to use for target-hitting." [b]I walk back out my room, heading towards the sim room.[/b]

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    "Okay, okay.." [i]After a bit, that "bit" being spent by getting a drink of water, I proceeded onwards towards the simulation room. The Cainhurst sim should have shut down, that's usually how it worked. And if it didn't...Well, I expected Grant to know how it worked.[/i]

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  • [b]Yeah, the Cainhurst sim had already shut off. I had used the panel inside to change it to a targeting range. It was a damn long one. Around 2000 feet total. There was a target at the end of the hallway. When Irina walked in, I handed her a sniper rifle.[/b] "You get three shots. If all three are bullseyes, you're in."

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    "...Look, I...I already know I can't do this. I'm not a sniper. I've never sniped in my life, I'd be lucky to hit the side of the target." [i]I was going to go ahead and be honest with Grant here. Sure, I was good with a pistol, especially my Evelyn. But I knew I couldn't be a sniper. I wasn't good at all with firearms from medium to long range, and I knew I couldn't hit a target with a sniper. I almost felt bad, like some sort of child disappointing a parent because they couldn't do something special. And in this case, Grant would be the parent, assuming he actually cared.[/i]

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  • "Listen, I have to do this. I have to make you take the First Recon test. NCR protocol. Personally I wouldn't make you do it, but I gotta know if you have what it takes." [b]I cross my arms, my voice was stern. This would happen whether she like it or not.[/b] "Now start a shootin."

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  • Edited by Orn: 11/1/2016 12:48:09 AM
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    "Damnit. Fine, fine." [i]I went ahead and set myself up to shoot, aiming down the barrel and at the target set up by the simulation or Grant, I didn't know. Holding my breath, I fired once, the first shot slamming into the bullseye. The second shot was too far to the right from the bullseye, and too high. The third was closer, yet still far to the left.[/i] [i]As I rose up, I sighed and held the rifle tightly. I was happy I at least hit one of the shots in the bullseye.[/i]

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  • "Pretty damn good for your first time. Still, not good enough to get in First Recon. Remember, you can re-take the test any time." [b]I walk over, and tear the target down. I was impressed with her work, really good for her first time. I barely passed my test, first chance. I bring the target up to the wall, and write [i]Irina Eiliza[/i] on it, to mark the first try. I hand it to her.[/b]

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    "...I could've done much better. Maybe if I dedicated as much time as I do swordsmanship into sniping. But I'd hate to quit practicing melee and rely on range." [i]I took the paper, staring deeply into where the rounds had slammed through. It meant a lot to me, seeing this up close. It gave me much more room for me to improve my skills, get better at what I considered a hobby; combat.[/i]

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  • "One more thing before ya go. If ya kill any Legion, bring me their ears. I'll pay you for them. I can sell stuff to ya too." [b]I had shit-tons of extra supplies. I had enough to sell some.[/b]

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    "Ears. Got it." [i]To be completely honest, I had collected worse that ears before. Try searching around in pools of the blood of Hunters you just murdered, while looking for things called Blood Dregs, which was basically bits of blood that had froze. Searching for the damn things paid off, in the end.[/i] "...Guess I'll see you around. Adios, Grant." [i]I chuckled, before leaving the simulation room quietly.[/i] [i](Fin. I'll probably RP in first-person when I'm with Grant now XD.)[/i]

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    "...Psychopathic bitch? I guess I'm not a psychopathic bitch anymore. At least, for now.." [i]Not like I cared if he called me shit, or mentioned the dreadful past that I tried to forget. Some people wouldn't forget what I did, who I killed, and wouldn't ever forgive, I knew. And now I know that most likely, this Ranger was one of those types. I was just happy that he didn't mention my (previous) muteness...that was something that I would have actually gotten angry over. [/i]

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  • Hello, Irina. [b]Garin pops into existence next to her, a smile painted across his face.[/b]

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    [i]A sudden movement, and the barrel of Irina's flintlock pistol was suddenly aimed towards Garin's head. The Vileblood didn't even look over until a couple of seconds, where she scoffed in disapproval of the man's sudden appearance. [/i]

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  • ((It's a sim, so I ain't using the AntiMatter shit here.)) [i]Not silence, rather footsteps entered the room upon the sitting of Irina, though not too long after. The light echo through the open space allowed for the presence of a figure to be known as the blurry door spat out a man, but the one who was thrust into the room entered calmly, but as if he wasn't quite accustomed to going through them, and so he lurched forwards when going through. Quickly the man regained his composure once again and straightened himself up, as he had calmly yet swiftly stridden to the room's centre. Not in the heart of it where Irina was, but close enough to it that he was maybe ten meters off. "So, this is where the Vileblood trains?" The words were laced by an accent of Canadian origin, though he who had used the accent was definitely not known for showing the same kindness as a normal northerner was famed for. The black and orange tiger striped camouflage of a cloak was draped over the body of he who stood mere meters from Irina, though he did appear to be wearing something beneath the cloak, as told by the pauldrons that went over his shoulders being oversized, and the chest managing to look bulkier than average. His face was covered by an orange mask, with one red eye and the right being a black colour, though the lenses both were a black shade from one side and completely transparent from the other, which he looked through. He didn't appear to be armed to his full extent as usual, for he had only what looked to be a Shoto hilt for a lightsaber at his hip, just between the spot where two black HardLight sword hilts rested. He didn't equip himself with any weapons that were over the top, just an AK-47 with a couple of modifications like a red dot sight and foregrip, a single .44 revolver in a sleek silver colour, and one .357 revolver that was a colour of rust red. Which for him was lightly armed, as he didn't plan to bring a Bolter or AntiMatter Rifle into the room. "Fair. Not too nice, but it's not bad." [/i]

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    [i]After the newcomer had spoken up for the second time, the head of the Vileblood slowly rose up and aimed itself towards the body of the figure within the room, her light blue eyes staring eerily towards his face and weaponry. Her thin mouth contorted into a slight smirk, as she began to rise up from the wooden chair that she was within, like a wooden puppet being pulled by invisible strings. Both of her feet planted themselves firmly upon the shining marble floor, while both of her thin, gloved hands waved aimlessly at her side. The right hand slowly trailed over to the decorated brass sheath of her sword, while to fingers that belonged to her left suddenly found themselves grasping the wooden grip of her flintlock pistol, the same one that had just blown the clone Irina's head off only moments ago..[/i]

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  • [i]"Not a big talker, eh?" The cowboy didn't reach for his guns, nor did he try to grasp his swords firmly in either hand, rather he just shifted his right leg behind him and put his right arm behind him, his left in front as a blocker. He exceled in agility and melee-oriented combat and gun-fu, and since there was only one target, he didn't plan to use his unique combat style just yet. [/i]

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    [i]The woman only smirked a little more, before her left hand found itself within her coat's pocket, her fingers now latched around something else. She withdrew a silver round amulet from the pocket, with a decorated cross within the center of it. A blood red light escaped the amulet, while electricity slightly jumped from its metal exterior. Placing the amulet upon her head and allowing it to slide down to her neck, Irina chuckled slightly as she..began speaking.[/i] "...I guess that's what happens when you haven't spoken for about four years, especially after your tongue had been torn out by a crazed Executioner. This amulet, though..restores my voice, it seems." [i]Irina's voice was soft and beautiful, with a tint of an Italian accent within it. It was something that would belong to a proper, kind noblewoman, instead of a supposed blood-crazed lunatic.[/i]

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  • "I could have sworn the Cowboy got you a new one?" And so, Treyman took it upon himself to make the first strike. He dashed forward with a lunge and attempted to overwhelm the woman, going to step just between her legs and knock her off her feet, which would be advantageous to him. He also tried to deliver a swift headbutt.

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  • Edited by Orn: 10/25/2016 8:18:35 PM
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    "He did-" [i]Irina suddenly jolted to her right as Treyman suddenly attacked, her feet sliding across the marble floor as she skidded and halted. Her eyes locked into him once more, while she drew her favored weapon, her Rakuyo. A five foot six foot long straight katana, and while the blade was four foot one itself, it was still a rather long weapon. A serrated dagger protruded from the brass handle that Irina's gloved fingers wrapped themselves around. Her left hand's fingers found themselves on her Evelyn, the flintlock pistol she was notorious for. She drew it and aimed straight towards Treyman's hand, waiting for him to draw while she paced around him.[/i] "-Honestly, I like both. A tongue prosthetic could help in the future. Don't know how, but..it could."

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  • [u]The light pitter-patter of a man wearing cloth-covered boots walking through the simulated main door can be heard as Lothran walks into the replica of Cainhurst, his pale face and skin covered by the white crow mask and black feathered robes he always wears. None of his other weapons besides the Blades of Mercy hang by his side, their blades freshly sharpened. As he nears closer to Irina, he speaks before reaching out.[/u] "[i]Are you done with your training, Irina? I wish to ask you about a very importa-[/i]" [u]Cutting off quite suddenly, Lothran seems to freeze in place as his head cranes upwards, looking around the room. The glass eyes that create an unblinking gaze survey their surroundings, the amnesiac Hunter of Hunters caught in a daze of emotion and nostalgia.[/u] "[i]This place seems... Familiar. I feel an eery sense of longing, but further more... Such [b][i]hatred[/i][/b] towards it... I... I-I don't understand these feelings.[/i]"

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