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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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Edited by Chinkronomicon: 11/2/2016 9:38:06 PMA smile formed upon Lucien's lips as his worry began to fade. [i]What a strange girl,[/i] he thought, using the adjective ironically. Nothing was that strange to him anymore, only things of note being people or objects that intrigued him. Other than that he valued little of his personal opinion in favour of his objective survival instinct. Damien and Lana. Were they somehow connected by something other than a rescue mission, something connected to the past? The thought played in Lucien's mind as he wandered. One thing was for sure. He would have to pay this Damien a visit sometime, whether it be to help him find Alister or to spar. [spoiler]End[/spoiler]
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[spoiler]Omg banana boi[/spoiler]
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Ayyy lmao
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What's you my man?
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Not much. Heard this place really cleaned up, so I decided to rejoin my roots for a little. Got a girl, lost said girl and now I'm here. How about you?
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Shit man, a lot. College is a total blast, absolutely love it. Met a girl, French exchange student, she's there for this session and the next one, but is leaving afterwards, which kinda sucks, but she'll be moving here soon after, so that doesn't blow as hard. Been around here and there, mostly focusing on College and working on my books as well.
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Did you give her your baguette? And that's awesome man, glad you're enjoying that shit. I can tell you from experience that if you're really into her, the wait will be worth it. Glad to hear it :)
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No baguette sharing yet, but I remain positive lol. Any writing projects on your end?
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Yeah. Recently opened up something that kinda relates to Phoenix. I never really gave him a backstory at all, so it seems serendipitous that I base the story somewhat off of that. I have a sample if you so desire. What I have planned for this place also relates to this... Heheh.
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Yah sure, I'd love it
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http://werdsmith.com/p/9QRCVNdJsC
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Siiick
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No f*ckin' way.... [i]A voice, mechanical, and filtered. From behind, the newcomer could hear footsteps, someone large and quite powerful, metal on sediment. Behind him stood none other than the Courier, standing in a full suit of X-01 MKVI Advanced Tesla Power Armor. His M134D-H sat atop his left shoulder, the skull of an alpha deathclaw atop his right. A large knife was situated in a leg holster on the inside of his left leg, and two large revolvers sat at his hips. Two belts of 7.62x51mm NATO ammo crossed his chest, and on his back, beneath his Old World Flag cloak, an M240B, a Marlin 336LC rifle, and a machete. On the rear of his waist, a sawback Bowie, and an M1911 in a shoulder holster. The helmet he wore was still spattered with blood, and the insignia of the Cobalt Phoenix graced his chest-plate. Looking to the man before him, he smiled beneath his helmet, quite amazed to see what he believed was his old friend.[/i] Jesus H. Christ, you ain't lookin' near as bad*ss as you were back in the day... guessin' you're from a different timeline, then. In that case, then to hell with it you ain't gonna know me.
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[i]Armour, possibly Old-Earth. Iconoclast? Seems to rugged, too bulky for their design. A prototype perhaps? And those firearms. Only something an mercenary can get while being funded by the Icos. [/i] The man quickly steeled over the newcomer's apparel, gauging every piece of equipment he saw and analyzing the potential within nanoseconds in his mind. His time with the Tribals did not teach him of Old-Earth weaponry, but Aloysius provided ample documents on them. He pieced together the rest. "Are you with the Iconoclast? That armour is something only you can get if you're either funded by them... Or if you raid them. And if you perform the latter, you would've been as infamous as me amongst their hit radar." He paused, thinking about how the armoured man addressed him. "Alternate... Timeline?" The Old-Earth documents did theorize about something of the sort, but he did not believe the theories of a dead world.
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Iconowhatthef*ck? Yep. Different timeline. I'm not even gonna f*ckin' try this again. I'm not with your Iconof*ckboys, I'm not here to capture you, or take anything from you. If I'm not totally f*cked up, you are a version of someone I knew a while ago. Real bad*ss of a man.
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Despite his unorthodox manners, the man seemed truthful enough. However that didn't stop the stranger from keeping his hand hovering over his revolver. Though it didn't look like it, it was based upon the Old-Earth Taurus Raging Judge model. And it was loaded with some mean ammunition. "You're not with them then? A relief. But your armour... Hm. I am similar to someone you say?' He considered the thought of a different timeline before coming to a hypothesis. "Perhaps you are referring to the Tribals before me under this name? It is a tradition in our - well, not mine anymore - culture to take on the surnames of our mentors, and sometimes even their equipment and fighting styles. Are you not referring to the late Lael or Laadan Farcòn?" Surely this was just a waking dream of his, right? Multiverses were the theories of a dead past, rendered obsolete after the Great Scorch. But he was beginning to doubt himself more and more on that as the armoured man talked.
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A wha? Dude I have no God damn idea what you're on about. If this dude was a tribal I'd have known. His name was Luis Franco, kid could f*ckin' control fire, real melodramatic guy, really smart though. You look, sound, and act just like him. Even got his damn Raging Judges. [i]the armored titan said, pointing to the man's revolvers. Clearly he wasn't lying, he even had a name to back things up.[/i]
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[spoiler]Only one revolver lol[/spoiler] "Luis Franco?" He had never heard such a name. Of course he immediately recognized the surname as an anagram of his own, so there was feasibility there. And Luis could stem from their lineage's consonance as well... But that would imply that someone else took the mantle from Lucien. All existing Tribals had branded his name as the title of a False Prophet, the surname forever tainted by his actions. Also... And he had no memory of his death. So that would be impossible unless he was presumed dead. "A kid, you mentioned. My apologies, this is all rather... Somewhat of a rude awakening," he said as the fire of determination faded slightly, "I am looking for a boy. Dark brown hair and eyes, skin tanned and of possible Asian descent - his skin is like mine."
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When I say kid, I'm talkin' early twenties. [i]He said correctively.[/i] But you're positive you don't recognize that name? Don't know anyone using it as an alias? An anagram even? Because I'm callin' bullsh*t.
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"My apologies my sir," he replied genuinely not knowing of this 'Luis Franco.' He pondered for a moment. If these alternate timelines that the man had mentioned was true, then could it be possible that another version of him wandered here and created a reputation? It seemed laughable. But with his current circumstances, it wasn't all too bizarre. "This Luis Franco. Did he ever have a boy with him? Even if he was about 20, was there ever a boy about 15 or 16?" Lucien as grasping at straws now. Any hint of Alister would suffice for him to continue his pursuit. He couldn't be stopped by a simple lack of evidence now - he would not allow the trail to go cold.
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Nope. He was a loner. Pretty sure he got neutered with a sword while he was here, too. [i]The armored behemoth replied. He was currently trying to figure out just why the hell someone was after a boy. Perhaps a rift, the kid went missing? Perhaps Phoenix had been the child? He was confused, but he'd do some digging into this later.[/i]
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The man ignored the part about neutering - he didn't quite recall having his genitals sterilized at any time in his life. Seemed like something the Abbatial zealots would do. He deflates slightly at the thought of this man not having a boy. Where could Alister be then? If he was taken away, then surely so was the boy, right? Whatever the case, he couldn't let the Iconoclast harm the boy in any way. He knew how they operated. "Perhaps someone in there has seen the boy I'm looking for. By the way... What is your name, stranger? I would rather not travel in a new world such as this without knowing the name of any of its inhabitants." Of course, he didn't know that the Dojo was a crossroads of sorts for different warriors.
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Wilson. Alex Wilson. [i]He said.[/i] I'd go down the list of other names and aliases but considering you ain't from around here, I'm not gonna waste your time or mine. So, let me ask you something, why the hell is this kid so important to you? Better question is, what are you runnin' from? [i]Wilson could sense the urgency in this man, he was a master at reading body language and tone by this point. Something about this man was off, and he intended to find out just what exactly that was.[/i]
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"This boy of mine... His name is Alister Danet." Lucien's eyes clouded, as if plagued by some kind of guilt. "A made a promise in blood once to someone very important to me. Someone who became another victim in my fury. I promised that I would give the boy the skills he would need to survive and the truth. From there he could do what he wanted." There was something more to it than that. He was being awfully linear for some reason, and nothing could hide that. "We were being chased by mercenaries from high-class society members calling themselves the Iconoclast. I'll skip the history lecture behind their name. We were backed up, Alister got captured and they held him for ransom. The last thing I saw was that bastard hitting that boy with a sword pommel. And then..." He struggled with recalling the next part. It was a mixture of reluctance and genuine amnesia, like a horrible fever dream. "I lost control, to say the least. That's the last thing I remember before I woke up here outside these gates. I thought I was dead."
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You're a whole world away from your kid, dude. [i]was all Wilson could say. It made sense to him, but he recognized none of the names, none of the people. [/i]
