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originally posted in:The New Dojo
originally posted in: THE DOJO
4/18/2017 11:25:46 PM
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Orn
Orn

Somewhere, in the Ko-Rudo Mountains... [i]A lonesome woman had begun to wait. The five foot, eleven inch tall female sat between two ancient walls of stone and ice, formulating a thick crevice between the mountainous region, allowing some amount of heat to exist between its jagged crack. She laid next to a rugged boulder, smooth yet cracked in design, as water from melting ice trickled off and merely began the process of freezing once again. The woman sighed deeply, her breath exiting her recently upgraded helm. The headwear that she bore was caged in design, concealing her face, although the outline of a young woman's facial structure could be seen. The metal of choice was an alloy between lightweight magnesium and carbon, while underneath the caged exterior was a thin purple visor. Her armor, although ancient and even familiar to some of the Dojo members in design, was something that a royal knight of older times would have worn into battle, except upgraded with necessities - the steel plate had been replaced with lightweight ceramic, carbon lining and fabric being introduced to be an upgrade to the previous black leather. A heating system was being generated throughout the suit, ensuring that she would not freeze to death in such terrible weather. At her belt were two separate curved swords, the Damascus steel blades intended for slashing and passing through the skin and bone of their foes with incredible ease. The handles of the dual weapons were upgraded with steel garbs, allowing one to parry and deflect attacks to their hands. Their pommels were sphere-like, the ends being spiked with coils, as if both for stabbing and bashing purposes. Upon her back was a semi-automatic P390 pistol, the choice sidearm for some militaristic forces, a magazine already loaded into the weapon. And strapped around her body was a full-fledge sniper rifle - the weapon was outfitted with a suppressed barrel for stealthier assassinations, the large sights perfected and pinpointed as they were concealed by a carbon black cap. A magazine holding only a few .308 rounds was already clipped into the firearm, a fact that she had ensured before she had come here. She was here to see an old friend, to...say the very least.[/i] ((Open, although particularly for JT. Welcome back, mango.))
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    [i]And Adela heard footsteps, slowly yet.. menacingly. Behind her. They were heavy, each step sending an echoing thud throughout the crevice. Heavy, slow, menacing. If the Dancer were to look, she'd see a beautiful woman. Truly, she was deceivingly gorgeous, with an air of.. divinity, hanging around her. She had a smirk on her pink lips, paired with an intelligent twinkle in her crimson red eyes. Long, beautiful locks of raven black hair accentuated her face, the hair itself being wavy and curly, and very much pretty. As for her face itself, it had soft curves. High cheekbones, a gentle jawline, and a soft chin. Her body was armoured in silver, the plating being a sleek design, thin and slender. Divine runes were engraved all over the suit, written in an ancient, forgotten language. She, of course, lacked a helmet, though. Then, further, two magnificent, breathtaking wings were behind her, furled up and angelic. A pure white in colour. It was an angel. An angel of reckoning, perhaps. Of vengeance. She bore no weapons.[/i] [spoiler]short reply is short.[/spoiler]

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    [i]Adela made haste as she merely drew the two curved swords at her side, the blades gleaming within the glistening snow as she backed away from the angel of vengeance, a concerned glare upon her hidden face. She held both blades tightly, as the angel only approached..[/i] "Stop where you are. Now." ((Short replies, hurr hurr.))

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    [i]Astra merely smirked wider as she held out her right hand, a sickly blue flame coating it, moving outward as she clenched her hand into a fist. The fire shaped into a greatsword, five foot tall, the woman herself being six feet and eleven inches. As for the weapon itself, it was like stone, a grey in colour and at least six inches wide. The grip was a cruciform.[/i] "My child," [i]She spoke, her voice sweet and soft with a deceivingly kind undertone,[/i] "Don't you know that if you take up arms against a stranger.." [i]She paused, her left hand wrapping around the hilt of her massive sword, runes engraved into the stone-like blade. She held it close to her body, being about ten feet away.[/i] "An angel, no less.. bad things might just happen?"

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    "I don't know you. So just...stop where you are." [i]The tone in Adela's voice had shifted to a defensive form, although there was also a hint of fear and foreboding within it as well. She was clearly attempting a more defensive approach, as Astra towered over her and had a much more deadly weapon than the two curved swords.[/i]

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    [i]The woman slowly shook her head, drawing closer and closer. She grinned a little wider, before her grin turned into a smile. Warm, wide, and kind. It felt.. comforting. Soothing. Adela could just.. feel her worries wash away entirely. It was silly, to take arms to an innocent woman..[/i] "Don't worry, child. You have nothing to worry about, now."

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    [i]And before she knew it, Adela had sheathed her own weapons. The feeling had corrupted - no...washed into her mind, like a serene wave in the ocean. She lowered her arms, sighing as she stuttered. She was attempting an apology, for drawing her weapons.[/i]

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  • Edited by Nox: 4/23/2017 12:04:22 AM
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    [spoiler]If you're reading this, before you get triggered: I was given permission.[/spoiler] [i]Adela could see the blade vanishing into ash, the woman's arms returning to her sides. At least, that's what the Dancer saw, but looks can deceive. Astraeus had already manipulated the lady before her to this extent, after all. Pain. Surging, electrifying pain. Adela's view went hazy for just a moment, but it ended when the pain flared up. Blood dripped down onto the ice and stone below. Adela's blood, in thick, crimson red droplets as they made their way down Astra's blade -- the same blade that was currently protruding from Adela's back. The angel's face was right up to the Dancer's, beautiful features contorted into a scowl. She mumbled some words in Latin, before her left hand roughly shoved the lightly armoured woman off the blade, her stomach having a giant cut, spine obliterated.[/i] "No mercy for sinners."

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  • [spoiler]I know I have no say in this, but...[/spoiler] [spoiler]HNNNNNNNG[/spoiler]

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    what the fuсk are you on about you fаp-rag

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  • [spoiler]Jesus Christ don't be so hostile[/spoiler]

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    I have EVERY reason to be hostile, you pathetic little shit.

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  • You do?

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    [i]As the life was drained from Adela's pierced body, a quiet gag of agony escaped her lips, before her frame was thrown to the ground, crimson blood gushing from her wound as the scarlet liquid covered the ground. Adela stopped moving entirely, as her life ended then and there..[/i]

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    [i]Following that, Astraeus moved closer, walking to the side of the fallen woman. She tilted her head to the right, her scowl fading as she raised her right foot. Then, she brought it back down. Fast and hard. With a sickening crack and a screech of metal, the Dancer's head - and with it, her helmet - were crushed, blood and bone shards covering Astra's boot.[/i]

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    [i]Blood gushed from what remained of Adela's neck, a literal geyser of the liquid covering Astra's already gory foot, as brain matter squeezed out from underneath her boot, accompanied by remnants of metal and more gore. The body itself quivered from the impact, although that was all that happened. [/i] [i]Well. Then someone else showed up.[/i] [i]A slight trudging was heard somewhere in front of Astra's position, at least fifteen feet away, as a woman appeared within her line of sight. She was shorter of course, about six feet and three inches tall in total, her body being lean yet muscular and wrapped in a dark grey longcoat, boots and gloves laced over her feet and hands and covered in ice and snow. She hauled around a bag from the looks of it, while she silently stared upon the halfbreed angel and her kill in some mixture of confusion and awe. [/i] [i]The woman's face was aged and pale, about thirty years, probably. Her light blue eyes studied what remained of Adela's head, a grimace crossing her face as she whistled a little.[/i] "...I think I came around at a bad time..."

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  • Edited by Nox: 4/23/2017 2:20:22 PM
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    [i]Oh well, suppose I can do a bit of further describing for Astra. Her pristine, spotless skin was a pale white, contrasting heavily yet beautifully with her hair, as it was as black as the hour before dawn, when both the sun, and the moon, aren't quite in the sky. She, unlike Irina, looked young too, maybe in the middle of her twenties, yet.. something said that she wasn't quite that. That she was way older. She was brimming with power. Power that fermented over centuries, over millennia, over aeons. She lightly smirked as she flipped her sword over in her hands, and then drove the tip into the ice and the stone below her feet with a hard crack as the ground broke open, followed by a grinding noise as a feet and a half or so of the bloodied blade disappeared into the cracked floor -- enough for the angel to wrap her right arm around the grip, leaning on the guard as she took a slack position. Slowly, Astra tilted her head to the right as her blood red eyes darted up and down Irina's body, looking her over a few times before resting on her eyes. Hmmm.. she wasn't quite used to just talking, but it couldn't be that hard, eh?[/i] "I dealt with a sinner," [i]She merely spoke, her voice soft and crystal clear. It was crisp, too, like a beautiful, endlessly blue ocean.. and yet, light like a mild breeze. All in all, it was a wonderful sound to listen to.[/i]

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    [i]A sinner, she had mentioned? Irina heir her calmed composure, although that confused look in her eyes still remained. And yet, her mind was in a complete gaze: she recognized the mutilated body of the dead woman, who she...well, had some "business" with. She figured that it would be best to get explaining, or the angelic being would curb stomp her to high hell as well..[/i] "...Wait a moment, is that who I think it is? Not that I recognize her on a personal level, but...mind if I come a little closer, just to study the body?" [i]Irina took some amount of steps, to where she was only about five feet away from the crushed body and Astra herself. She kneeled down, studying the weaponry and gear, before finally making a comparison. [/i] "I remember this one, yes. She tried putting a bullet in my daughter's head over a cheap bounty, don't know what it was even for. I thought I could've tracked her down, but...well, I suppose you purged her already." [i]Irina wasn't exactly lying, either. Some of her contacts (AKA, Isaac) had gotten wind of a bounty. Some shit that Arianna had done about a week ago. The point was, this bitch had gone after her, and mistook her for Mama Vileblood.[/i] [i]Basically, I worked out a bullshit explanation to why Irina's up here, but...hey, it works. Sorta.[/i]

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  • [spoiler]HNNNNNNNNNNNG[/spoiler]

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    Hmm?

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  • [spoiler]Character death.[/spoiler] [spoiler]*half-hearted hnnng*[/spoiler]

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  • [i]A whirring noise, a black shadow on the floor - A silent hum that echoed through the area. JT had come. The area around was simply a slim crevasse of frozen ice and snow, although above was a rather loud noise that would blow the thick blanket of white away and accompany a black rope sliding between the ancient mounds of ice. The thing making the noise was thankfully not hostile and was rather a machine moving through the sky, green blotting out the sun temporarily and giving shade to the area beneath it. The rope made its way a few feet in front of the woman, where it would stop and suspend itself three feet from the ground. Fast-roping down the long chord was a cowboy, adorned in not a duster and hat like he would typically wear, but rather a large duster-parka hybrid and a mix between a face mask and a hat to envelope his head, JT had came to speak with the woman. He was armed only with the swords of the Dancer that he earned a year prior and his revolver, and a long lasso was on his back in case he needed to escape the thick sheets of ice. He got to the end of the rope and simply hung off the rope, feet digging into the rock with the end of the rope while his left hand gripped a rock to his side and his right hanged by his waist. "Sup." [/i]

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    "...John." [i]Adela's voice rang out from the depths of her helmet, while the remainder of her facial features were hidden away by her visor. She placed her gloved hand upon her waist as she stared up at JT, a smile underneath her caged helmet and visor as once more, she spoke to the cowboy and friend. [/i] "Certainly been a bit, at least...it's felt like it. I suppose that you received the message that I had sent to you, seeing if you were alive still and if you wanted anything.. I suppose we're here on business terms? Or we're socializing?"

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  • [i]"Life ain't worth my business solely; God gave me a capacity for friendship, but whatever you'd prefer Adela," JT said as he disengaged from the rope. The helicopter hovered in place there momentarily as it was JT's primary exit plan for when the two finished speaking. [/i]

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    "I'd prefer a social call, flrsthand." [i]She responded, staring up at the floating machine before returning her stare to the techno-cowboy which had spared her months ago. She'd stay here to chat - Adela had gone through worse.[/i]

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  • [i]"Alright. So, tiny dancer, what's up?" JT asked, his trademark style of offensive humour only half-gracing his words as he spoke. After all, calling someone an Elton John song would only be an insult if one took it that way. [/i]

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