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originally posted in:The New Dojo
10/30/2016 1:36:16 AM
298
[b][u]The Wanderer | Dojo Gates[/u][/b]
[i]Alister...
Alister.
Alister!
ALISTER![/i]
The last thing he remembered was seeing the boy he sought to protect being smashed brutally in the back of the head by a sword's pommel.
And then the world was set on fire.
...
With a gasp, the man wakes up spread-eagle outside the Dojo Gates. A heartbeat after, he rolls forward to his feet and looks around, one hand on the mechanical katana sheathe at his waist.
"ALISTER!"
The man's apparel was quite peculiar. A long black leather overcoat draped past his knees, with ceramic shoulder pauldrons and joint guards placed upon the coat. At his waist was an Oriental scabbard modified by machinery near the upper half, holding such things as a napalm barrel and a gun trigger. The two other items of note were the ornately engraved Mateba revolver and a runic gas mask - all equipment strangely reminiscent of... [i]him.[/i]
He looked around frantically, hazel eyes wild as sweat dripped down his weathered Asian skin. Long, black hair was matted wildly in a mess under a wide-brimmed hat of the same colour.
His age was indeterminate, possibly around mid-thirties to early forties. But all of his features made him an oddly similar, yet older, version of the Old Lieutenant.
But it couldn't possibly be him... Could it?
Silence. He looked at the large gates of the Dojo, easing his grip out of slight awe and fear.
"Are these the Gates of Hell?... No, no get a hold of yourself. Believe in monsters, not the fantasies of men. Find him."
He finally let go of his sheathed blade's handle. His coat sleeves were rolled up, revealing lean arms riddled with slashes and bullet holes.
The smell of brimstone wafted through the air.
Blue fire sprang from each wound, searing each laceration and bullet hole shut with a sickening smell. The man rolled down his sleeves as he looked around for anyone in sight. The madness in his eyes faded to a simmering charcoal of composure, a flame hidden amidst the ashen facade of calmness.
The sickening scent stopped.
It couldn't possibly be him...
[i]Could it?[/i]
[spoiler]Open to all :)[/spoiler]
English
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The night's brisk breeze contrasted directly with the humid climate which put a drowsy spell over the Dojo. The arrival of the man at the gates was not unusual - many warriors of varying skill and notoriety arrived here to prove their integrity among others of their stature, oftenly concluding their toilsone journey through the mountains under duskfall. Still, this one was... [i]unusual[/i]. Bearing the resemblance of someone long past. One leaned against the metal wall of the Dojo Gates, a smoke burning brightly and brazenly in the dark and sullen night. Shadows creased over the man who stood behind the cigar, but just from his undefined silhouette he was rather muscular; his eyes, which glowed a light, incandescent hue started directly at the approaching man who reeked of sulfur and illuminated with a cobalt miasma of brilliant color. As the familiar warrior approached the gates steadily, the man straightened his posture, growing substantially taller and shuffling in the direction of Lucien to greet him. His shadowed outline sharpened, showing a grand coat stuffed with artillery, firearms and a sword that glimmered under the moon's dim light with an unknown liquid.
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Lucien spots him, one hand going over his revolver as quickly as a wolf would snarl at a hunter when being backed into a corner. He was wild at the moment. "You there, stop where you are. A man shouldn't approach another silently when armed with such weapons. Otherwise one might mistake you for an assassin..." His hand doesn't budge from its poised position above the Mateba sidearm. However, his legs and other arm still remain casual, if not tense due to the sudden arrival. "If you assure me that no conflict will transpire within the next few moments, I will be more than willing to bring my hand off my gun. Agreed?" He raises his other hand up in a gesture of peace. While he was still frantic as he thought of the boy, he still remembered to keep his diplomacy.
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The large man had stopped where he stood and placed his hands a fair height in the air. He kept his mouth closed, not daring to let the man shoot him, despite the rather useless effect it would have on him. After Lucien had finished his statement, the man nodded simply. "I am not here for a fight. Just put here to ponder the stars. I think I have found a rather familiar one, in fact..." He lowered his hands cautiously, and despite being entirely immune to conventional ammunition, attempted to maintain some level of caution as he stared down the barrel of the beautifully-crafted sidearm. Who would've known what such an exotic weapon would carry within its chamber. "You resemble a warrior of past. Cobalt Phoenix. At least from what I've heard of you, you are a legend here. If you even are who I presume, anyways."
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The man raises his hand from its poised position above his holstered revolver and brings it to the air, somewhat confused by the man's inquiry. "Cobalt Phoenix? I know no such title, stranger. I'm here looking for a boy - skin like mine, about 15-16 with dark brown hair and eyes. I blacked out and all I can remember recently is waking up out here. My apologies stranger, I think you have me confused for someone else." [i]Phoenix? The people wouldn't give me such a title. They branded me as an exile - what exile has a name sounding so honourable?[/i]
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The man nodded skeptically. From the prophecy and legends he heard among the crowds of the more seasoned Dojo civilians, the weaponry and skills of this newcomer seemed identical to that of the old hero. "My apologies, then. You seemed very similar to the man I had heard of." The guard extended his hand, obscured by a glove with its fingers rigidly cut off. He took the hand of Lucien firmly, squeezing it enough to show his open nature but soft enough not to hurt the newcomer. "Aaron Sawyer. What's your name, then?"
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The man reciprocated the handshake and returned the same amount of caution Sawyer gave him. "Lucien Farcòn at your service. Quite strange that someone like myself would come to a place like this - much less someone like myself existing. I highly doubt anyone else could wield blue fire such as this, Aaron Sawyer. Doing such a thing would mean I am dead." ... A heartbeat passes. "Did you say somebody possessed similar weapons and equipment to me as well?"
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Sawyer nodded. "Yes, the same weapons, and the same smell of brimstone and lights of cobalt flame you displayed. Strange... but not my own problem." He slowly backed away. "It's time I returned to my post, but good luck with whoever you seek to find, or... whatever is happening with the weaponry and skills you possess. Welcome to the Dojo. I'm sure you'll cause quite a stir." Sawyer turned completely, opening the huge Dojo gates with ease and leaning once again on the wall, where he let the burning ember of his lighter sit under the cigar.
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[spoiler]Phoenix never smelled like brimstone sadly :)[/spoiler] "My thanks, Aaron Sawyer. I trust that we'll be seeing more of each other." Lucien gives a small wave before disappearing through the gates, still distressed in finding this boy of his.
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[spoiler]Sorry. My mistake. [/spoiler]
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[spoiler]It's all Gucci my guy.[/spoiler]
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[spoiler]yo...[/spoiler] [spoiler]TL;DR[/spoiler] [spoiler]jk don't hurt me[/spoiler]
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[url=http://67.media.tumblr.com/45e66db4899020152bf3c4daf238a2e9/tumblr_mqi00sWSaQ1swj9cdo1_1280.jpg]A masked man stood in front of the Dojo gate, Rainfall merely surrounding him and him alone. His mask bore a rainbow of Blue, Green and Red on top of a Ivory color. It was a truly eerie sight, his black umbrella opened as the rain pattered on it.[/url] The odd man didn't have any noticeable weapons or features about him, the only way he could be identified was his fingers which were of a tan, but Caucasian color. Though under the ceramic mask two stark blue eyes that stared at the person before him. "Who is there? Are you merely another wanderer seeking the shelter of the Dojo?" He said with a smooth voice...odd. All about this man was odd and bizarre indeed.
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"The Dojo?" the man asks quizzically. He knew not of any kind of Dojo. "My apologies sir, I don't quite know where I am. Have you seen a boy by chance? 15-16, skin like mine with dark brown hair and eyes?" [i]Strange mask. Tribal? No, he couldn't be with them. Perhaps the Abbatial. They have some decently mortifying visages used in their ritual. [/i] The man analyzed every visible piece of the masked stranger, such was the nature of his habit.
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"No, sadly I have not. Then again, I rarely go out...perhaps you can find your friend further inside." The masked man said, slowly reaching for his mask and slid it to the side, revealing the tanned, clean shaved and angular face. His silvery hair was threaded through the top of the matte black poncho. Though normally a rather normal face, there were 4 holes in his cheek plugged up by...water? "Now, I may as well introduce myself. I am Blackmore, and yours?"
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[i]Wounded, but unaffected. Coagulated... Water? Hmm. Most like Abbatial? No. You're not in your home anymore. Think clearly.[/i] Other than his silent analysis, the man seem unfazed by Blackmore's peculiar appearance. He tipped his wide-brimmed hat to the man before offering his hand, the panic in his eyes slowly dying. "Lucien Farcòn at your service. How do I get in?"
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[b]The red plated samurai, towering near seven feet tall, walked towards the centre of the open gate. He gripped his katanas which were covered by the intricately designed black sheaths on each side of his hips. He scanned the man approaching. Then suddenly gripped his blades tighter. If his scans were correct, the Phoenix had returned. But the Phoenix...was dead. Tesuto, gatekeeper of the dojo. Took a few steps forward. Gripping his blades like he was ready to draw.[/b] "Who are you?"
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[i]Old-Earth armour and weapons. Strange... Tribal?[/i] Upon seeing Tesuto's readiness to draw, the man immediately takes upon a unique stance: legs apart in the gait of a fencer with his hands poised above his waisted armaments, ready to draw either revolver or sword in a flash. "Lucien Farcòn. I'm looking for... A boy. Dark brown hair and eyes with skin like mine. About 15-16. Who are you and where am I?" His eyes burnt with determination and worry for the boy he spoke of. But he would not let panic deter his resolve.
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Edited by Inflatablepants: 10/30/2016 9:59:42 PM[b]Tesuot was puzzled, and the tremble of his hand on his grips showed that. Who was this man, who was near identical to the Phoenix? [/b] "Alright, Lucien. I will answer your question. But first, Tell me... Do you know of The Phoenix?"
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The man did not flinch at the name, but he did wonder. [i]The Phoenix?... no one could give me a title such as that. Too honourable and devoid of sin. Symbolic of rebirth. The people branded me as a monster. A False Prophet. [/i] "No, I do not know of this Phoenix you speak of." That was questionable, however. His gear and blue fire were high identical to the Old Lieutenant.
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"Then...why does your armour match a dead man's? And your face his own...?"
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"I swear to you, samurai," he says recalling the Old-Earth name for warriors with similar armour, "I know not of this dead man. I seek a boy, not a dead man."
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"You have to realize my suspicions traveler. You look exactly like the Cobalt Phoenix. A figure who held power here before he lost is life."
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Edited by Chinkronomicon: 10/31/2016 1:41:08 AM"How could someone else look exactly as I do?" He ponders for a moment, leading him to an ever bigger question. The Cobalt Phoenix. He had never heard of any title before, although it seemed almost fitting for it to be his due to his blue flames. But phoenixes represented rebirth. The brand in the back of his head represented unholiness. "I'm not on Mars anymore, am I?"
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"No, this is Tatakai. Why would you think you were on mars...? After all, I am pretty sure Mars does not have green plants or blue water flowing on its surface..." [b]The Samurai seemed to be making a joke towards the man's circumstance.[/b]
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The man didn't take the joke as lightheartedly. "Post-Scorch Mars, stranger. Where I come from, all the interplanetary colonies were cut off from one another after a solar flare took down everything. It was in the process of terraforming - Mars, that is. They were melting the polar ice caps and stabilizing the atmosphere. Funnily enough, nature did take some hold after the Scorch due to it heating up the atmosphere as well. Through the soot and burnt ruins came some greenery. And with it? Olympus Island - formerly Olympus Mons, the largest mountain in the solar system now turned into an island." He looked all around him, all the greenery. "But even Mars doesn't hold such vitality."
