Brave Galaxy is set in a world loosely based on Hiro Mashima’s Fairy Tail and Eden’s Zero. It is a PG-13 or so rated space fantasy RP, and uses a combination of character statistics, which can be acquired via roleplaying and events, and creative freedom to help direct players’ characters. While there is a main storyline, which can be found in the events section, characters are free to interact with others and their environment however they see fit.
Explore the galaxy. Overcome the obstacles in your path. Shape the future of humanity.
Post by fairchild.txt on Aug 11, 2019 11:30:41 GMT
Jak wasn’t really sure what she expected… In the ISC, they’d be worried more about the tactics of the fight, because there wasn’t a single spell between them. But a merc? It was more than likely they assumed anyone who joined up would have at least some magical aptitude. Without a second thought, Jak had closed her left eye. She… she wasn’t winking. She wouldn’t wink at Leo. Honestly, she didn’t really think about winking as an expression at all… But it was definitely something that she had learned from her family. It wasn’t wise to enter a dark area from a light one… at least, not without acclimating to the dark, first. And since they didn’t have some sort of antechamber to loiter in while they got ready, this would have to do. Otherwise, her eyes would be going haywire, trying to dilate appropriately to pull in the dim light they’d no doubt be forced to fight in.
It wasn’t worth it, as far as she was concerned, to explain herself to Leo. Magic users just… didn’t get it, sometimes… and with the Doctor’s first instinct being to dismiss the advantage of blinding his opponents? Well, it was clear to her that this guy relied on magic more than he realized. Instead, she followed Leo studiously, one eyes screwed shut in a vain attempt to block as much light from that eye as possible. Hopefully it would be enough to give her a decent advantage, but she’d lose depth perception in the process. After all, it wasn’t like she could just hold onto Leo’s arm and have him guide her towards the door, could she? Leo managed to gain some level of recon through the brickwork, likely a working of his magic. Useful? Sure. But Jak didn’t like having to trust his senses. After all, there was no real guarantee that he wasn’t a member of this smuggling operation, himself.
Was it likely? Not really… but Nox had taught her to be suspicious of anyone she came across, even if they seemed nice. Of course, despite that, Jak couldn’t help herself. She had trusted Leo up until this point… but when he led her to what was, presumably, the only open door in the only undefended area of the compound? That reeked of something foul. She resolved to keep her eye on him for now. After all, deception was the lynchpin of any successful job. He could have simply been working her, trying to figure out what he might know.
But… wasn’t he the one looking for information on these guys?
No. No, he knew that Jak was snooping around, right? Maybe all of this was just a ploy? After all, she’d practically screamed that this was a non-sanctioned job… maybe now, he was just doing his due diligence? Jak was jostled back to reality by the sounds of talking further ahead. Not taking her eyes off Leo, she listened carefully to what was going on up ahead. Uncooperative merchandise? Did… did that mean that whatever they were smuggling was… alive? Jak didn’t like that. Not one bit. But Leo distracted her from this revelation, instead suggesting they move head. After all, it wouldn’t be long before Dalley’s replacement found his way to the monitors.
Jak pulled her gun. It wasn’t exactly her forte, ranged combat… but it was better to have a ranged weapon now, than a sword, no matter how powerful it might be. She took note of the camera’s angle, scoping out the blind spots before rushing forward as quietly as she could manage, keeping as low as she could. She didn’t like having Leo behind her, taking every spare moment to glance over her shoulder at the unknown unknown. Her vision swimmed for a moment, her right eye still adjusting to the dim light which barely filtered through the high, dirty windows.Part of her severely wished that they’d gone in through the bay doors.
From where she was now, she couldn't see the camera. And based on what she saw, if they moved to the aisle of stacked boxes nearby, they’d still be practically invisible to the camera… just a flash of movement. If they were lucky, Dalley’s replacement wouldn’t notice them… unless he was particularly attentive. ((OoC: Sorry this took so long. I actually had it finished a few days ago, and only just now realized that I didn't post it...))
Post by Reya Starlyght on Aug 12, 2019 4:08:25 GMT
He knew that tell-tale glance backwards all too well, had seen it innumerable times throughout his life although always for the same fixed set of reasons. Most recently, it was his profession, people tended to distrust mercenaries no matter their personal reputation, but before it had been on worse grounds. Leo was glad it was only for the former at that point in time, he held no joy in explaining the more complicated... things to the authorities. Truthfully, Jacqueline wasn't really in the wrong for withholding her faith, he wouldn't deny that he lied a lot, and had already deceived her a few times with his words. They were on the same side, however, at least for now. He had no business in the dealings of a warehouse in Chorus, after all, the illicit things he did have a hand in were far more widely branching, and certainly not as crude.
The lieutenant had no need for such knowledge, though, or at least that was how Leo saw it. That was how he gave away personal information, after all, on a need-to-know basis unless someone happened to pick up on the cues he inevitably could not erase from his facade. Those sorts of individuals were few and far between, however, and they typically fell into one of two categories, enemies or friends, with a strong tendency toward the former. Jacqueline, well, she was law enforcement, and therefore was the type of person he typically tried to avoid rather than get acquainted with on either end of the spectrum. He would do what needed to be done for IMG, though, as had always been the case, and that was usually how such unlikely alliances were formed.
That being said, there was little room for doubt in the task at hand. Swiftly did they exit the storage room, and for a moment he bated his breath. The time quickly passed with no reaction from the guard supposedly working surveillance, however, and thus did he turn to Jacqueline, speaking in a whisper. "We don't want the replacement spotting us anywhere else; I'll neutralize him." With that did Leo head in the direction the guard had, moving slowly in a lowered stance as to not attract the sounds of creaking floorboards. Soon enough did he spot a scraggly man sitting in a chair, pouring over screens which served to illuminate his desk in artificial light. Oblivious to his approach, Leo got within a few feet of the man before delivering darkness to his consciousness with a series of quick, firm blows to his head with Dualist. It was only enough to give him a concussion at worse, following what the lieutenant had suggested despite the fact that she had pulled a firearm herself. No matter, Leo would stay on the safe side of the law until she crossed into dealing out lethal casualities herself.
He returned to the lieutenant within a few moments, opening his mouth to speak before a light turned on within the compound. Though he was not affected by its bright properties, his eyes flew upward toward the source, and he cursed at the balcony nearby. On it were two snipers perched, scopes trained quite predictably on them as he glanced down at his own chest and then Jacqueline's. His mouth twisted into a contemplating expression, weighing the consequences of various actions before deciding not to risk it. From his hand did Dualist clatter to the ground, and his arms were raised over his head with his visage morphing into annoyance. From another room did two guards rush in, rope in hand.
"Tight security, I see," he remarked, eliciting a groan from closest guard who then shoved him, although Leo's only reaction was a step off-balance. "Good sir, I believe you're mistaken. My friend and I have only come to examine your merchandise!" The individual who had pushed him was neither convinced nor impressed, the look on his face being something along the lines of 'I'm sick of this bullshit.' Such had been Leo's intention, however, as the guard moved to tie him up he was distracted somewhat, and within that minute frame of inattentiveness did Leo inhale deeply yet quietly, tensing his muscles even as the guard forcefully pressed his arms against his torso and wound the bindings around him.
A voice croaked from above them, seeming to be an embodiment of the darkness from which it called out. Ancient… Mysterious…
Cold.
“Put the girl... with the rest. I sense no magic in her.” It wheezed, “As for him… Our meeting has been postponed... for far too long.”
Immediately following his declaration, Jak’s vision was obscured by a black bag, her weapons quickly stripped from her body while the barrel of a gun pressed painfully into her lower back. For a moment, amid the sounds of her own breathing, she didn’t notice, but as they led her away, it became much more clear. She couldn’t hear anything: not even the sound of her own footsteps.
“Seriously? A sound-proof hood?”
Whether they had anything to say on the matter, Jak couldn’t hear. Though the elbow to the stomach proved that, at least, they didn’t like her snark. One arm twisted behind her back, Jak was marched towards an unknown location, though clearly they didn’t need to go far. A wave of stale, acrid air blasted her face before Jak felt them clamp some sort of device around her neck, pushing her down to a cold metal floor. The sound rushed back to her world as an unknown hand removed the bag from her head: just in time to hear the harsh clang of metal, and the scrape of a massive lever.
Immediately, Jak knew where she was: a cargo container. The interior was a deep red, numerous round holes drilled high on the walls, no doubt to let air into the container, though it did little to alleviate the stench and heat inside the container. Looking around, Jak found that her prison was shared with a motley group of people, though, if something connected them all, it was impossible to tell. Humans stood abreast to Elves. Men and women. Adults and children. In all, twenty other people shared this space. And seeing the fear in their eyes… made Jak feel even more foolish.
It was clear from what the old man said… Leo was working for him. He’d set her up. No doubt, he wouldn’t leave Dalton alone either. After all, he was just one more witness to what they were doing here. She just hoped that he’d have the sense to warp away when he came back without her. She backed away from the woman who had come to investigate the newcomer, slumping against the wall to wallow in self-pity. Nox had always warned her against her snap judgements… but here she was again.
Meanwhile…“Seriously? A sound-proof hood?” Jak scoffed.
Immediately, Jak was punished for talking back, one of the thugs smashing his elbow into her stomach before continuing to lead her away. Now, Leo was alone, at gunpoint, waiting to speak to the man in the darkness. His wizened voice cracked and broke, but still held an air of authority and menace which could only be cultivated by several lifetimes of leadership and cruelty. Each pause in his speech was punctuated by a sound like wind running through a broken accordion: wheezing, discordant and faint... but wholly unmistakable.
"What is your name, boy?"
By how quickly the man moved on from this question, it was abundantly clear that he did not care if Leo answered. The only thing he might care less about was what Leo might say, even if he did. Instead, he snapped bitterly at his subordinates.
"OF COURSE YOU SHOULD BRING HIM TO ME, YOU DAMN FOOLS!"
His men complied without question, though not without fear. It was clear that whoever this man was... he was feared. And those who worked for him were not guaranteed safety from his power. However, once Leo had been lead up the catwalk and into the darkened office, it was difficult to see why. Blinking lights flickered throughout the room, and as Leo approached, the overhead lights seemed to react, fluttering to life, albeit still a dim and gentle glow. It was in this light which Leo was able to finally take in the contents of the office where the old man had been hiding.
The walls were bare. Likewise was the floor. There was not a single piece of furniture, artwork, or even any weapons present in the ringleader's vicinity... save for one. It seemed to be some combination of lounging recliner and life-support system, and in it, rested a man who seemed far too old to be alive, given you were not even more incomprehensibly ancient than he was. He didn't have a single hair on his head, and even his eyebrows were wispy to the point of being practically non-existent. His eyes were so dark and worn that you would be excused for mistaking them for nothing more than empty sockets. His lips were nothing more than a pencil-thin line, indistinguishable from the other wrinkles of his face.
"My my my... Aren't you... FASCINATING!" he beamed, his mouth curling into a crooked smile of teeth which seemed too straight and too white.
"You... you remind me... so much of my dear, sweet nephew... He too, was afraid of the power he might wield. And I sealed it... in much the same way as you have sealed yours."
His tongue darted out of his mouth and greedily ran across his lips, looking like a dried pepper being dragged across a crack in the masonry. His eyes trained themselves on Leonidas with an insatiable hunger.
"But oh... this power of yours... I wouldn't want to possess it. Such a terrible burden you must hold... And my my my... how long you must have held it..."
"I apologize for my earlier assumptions, friend... It's not often... that I come across someone who I might call... an elder..."
"I... must introduce myself... My name is... Calvin Alexander Hannibal... Though my friends... call me Callahan."
((OoC: Callahan seems to know more than he should. But there is no way he can... is there? One of Callahan's abilities, long ago, was the power to speak to someone from within their mind. Over the years, this power has dulled, both from dilution, as well as atrophy... but he still retains a surface level of insight into the minds of those around him. He may not be able to know exactly what you are thinking... but he can pick up on some of the details... And it seems he has also, long ago, acquired the ability to sniff out magic-users around him, as well as being able to gauge their power.
What you do with this information and this setup, is up to you... But Callahan is more than happy to talk to himself all day, if Leo refuses to engage... And you know what else he wants to do, too... And I think you can guess whatwho what those prisoners are for, now.))
last edited Oct 6, 2019 9:39:30 GMT by fairchild.txt
His eyes narrowed at the voice that seemed to emerge from above, inside a door yet the angle was too steep for him to see inside. Troubling words, perhaps, for most, but to be honest Leo was just trying to figure out whether the echoing resonance of it was actually familiar to him, or if the man was merely speaking metaphorically. He quickly concluded that even if the former were the case, it had indeed been far too long for Leo to recall such, which wasn't surprising considering his plenitude of memory issues. Nevertheless, given Leo's latest false proclamation, despite the restraints around him Jacqueline probably wouldn't trust him any more, would she? Oh well, at least the feeling was mutual.
The voice's later words confirmed his suspicions, not only in its question but in the title at the end of it, so hastily brushed over though a smile was traced on his lips. But why ask one's name when there was no intention in recalling it, both the mannerisms of the man and previously of the lieutenant baffled him, there were plenty of other suitable pleasantries that had no chance of backfiring into awkward pauses and the interpretation of blatant disrespect. Perhaps he was simply matter of fact in that regard, forgetful of too many monikers that he had eventually learned to compartmentalize by ignorance. Most people were far less important than they thought in the grand scheme of things, anyway, it was only those who caught his interest or were particularly notable did Leo bother to even ask, everything was then less of a headache.
Leo held no reaction as the remaining two guards led him up the stares at gun point, an impassive stare searching the room where the harsh coughing originated from even before light illuminated it. A man, he was barely that, more of a husk capable of producing notes and rhythms oh so terribly off key that half of him wanted to cringe, the other half trying to interpret a language the subject was most certainly not speaking despite the resemblance of his voice. Yet his physical appearance was not the first thing Leo noted, it was the pulsating of his being, a mosaic patched together with one unifying theme, so unnatural yet in striking contrast so human... too human. The taint of familiarity, of ancient memories in distant places, settings this man, in some way or another, seemed to have experienced.
"I am indeed from Earthland," he stated smugly, soon charging into an ecstatic rant, all while Leo held the same expression, processing every modicum of information yet at the same time his mind repeated arbitrary phrases - sparsed between musical terms, sword stances, and historical events that had little to do with his life. Such a technique did not always work with mind readers, but it often did, not to mention his thoughts were already jumbled and barely comprehensible to others in the first place, he had been told so by acquaintances with such talents before, never to his own surprise.
Fascinating, though, Leo had to wrestle with his own subconscious to not let his lip curl up in disgust, the phrase and its tone all too recognizable, an interest only scientific in nature and certainly not a compliment intended for an actual person, Treis forbade it. "I appreciate your sympathies, but I assure you they are quite unnecessary," Leo remarked, catching the tail end of the man's statement but hoping it was nothing more than another throwaway line. Quickly his dream was crushed, however, and with it did he let out a soft sigh, barely traceable in the air.
Oh, but the man had an over-inflation of ego, his introduction - again with the names, exemplified it. Friends, undoubtedly the so-called Callahan had very few if any associates that could truly qualify as such, Leo had seen the fear in the eyes of his lackeys, the decrepit state of his existence certainly not lending to positive societal interactions either. Still, his own self-importance, and his apparent interest in Leo, would be easy to take advantage of, a single guard in the room, rifle still trained yet in a corner now, some distance from where he was standing. And thus did he finally let out a full breath, moving his arms inward as the rope slacked, eventually piling onto the floor. Callahan did not seem surprised, and he expected no less, yet neither did the man call upon his security either. Of course, he had no need to, as Leo reached toward his pocket he only pulled out a pen and a paper pad, beginning to write in a dark crimson.
"My apologies, over the years I seem to have acquired a great difficulty recalling names without first notating them," he spoke, though his cursive completely contradicted his statement and droning blocked out his true message of code. "My name is Leonidas Aglaeca, though people tend to assign me other titles without my consent." He cracked a grin, the first unmuted sentiment gifted to the man. Leo's hand moved to deposit his writing utensils back into his pocket, ripping out the consumed sheet and crinkling it once it was out of the view of both Callahan and his guard, and with not even a blink did it vanish from his fingertips, a silent, invisible call, perhaps soon to become irrelevant but present all the same.
"My name is Leonidas Aglaeca, though people tend to assign me other titles without my consent."
Callahan nodded sagely, "Yes... I suppose that does get... irksome, Leonidas Aglaeca. Even for someone as young as I... it's something I have grown tired of."
Callahan scrutinized Leonidas closely for a moment, his dark eyes flitting between Leonidas' quickly before a smirk curled upwards from the corners of his mouth. Still, if he had something to say about Leonidas' tactics, he kept it to himself, for now. Instead, he leaned slightly out, calling to someone who was approaching the office. The malice in his words seemed to bolster his strength and give him a renewed sense of vigor.
"IF IT'S SO DAMN INTERESTING, BRING IT IN, YOU IDIOT!"
No sooner had he spoken did a man enter, carrying a blackened katana, bringing it directly to Callahan's side, presenting it to him on bended knee. The withered old man leaned over slightly, getting a better look at the blade. However, a look of recognition flashed over his face, followed by a wickedly gleeful grin. He pressed a few buttons on a nearby console, his body being enveloped in a pale blue glow which simmered patiently, across his entire body. Clearly, it was some sort of magic, but if it had any immediate effect, it was hard to tell... but Callahan seemed to be positively brimming with excitement.
"I'm far too old to believe in fate, Leonidas Aglaeca." he chuckled, "But even I have to scoff at this being a coincidence!"
Meanwhile...Jak reached up to her neck, feeling the device which had been placed upon her: a metal collar, sleek and cold. No doubt, it was the same as the ones she saw on everyone else. The only discernible feature she could make out in this light was the groove which ran along the circumference... while the main one she could feel were the small blunt probes which poked uncomfortably at her neck.
"So... what do you know about these guys?"
The woman who removed the bag from Jak's head had introduced herself as Delilah... And it was Delilah who Jak had asked for information. Unfortunately... Delilah didn't have much time left. Because no sooner had Jak asked her question did a pale blue light began to emanate from the groove in her collar, eliciting panic... fear... and finally, solemn acceptance.
Many people averted their eyes, choosing long ago that they didn't want to see what came next. There was nothing that they could do. There was no amount of begging that could change the outcome. All they knew was that Delilah's luck had run out... And she would either die, or wish that she had. It was nothing personal, they all knew that, Delilah included... And those who were so inclined would be with her until she was gone... but Delilah didn't want comforting. She didn't want false hope.
She just wanted to help Jak however she could... in the hope that she, and her friends in the ISC would be able to take these monsters down. ((OoC: By the end of my next post, Callahan will have fully sucked the life out of poor Delilah... And, really... there is nothing that can be done to stop it, at this point...))
last edited Oct 8, 2019 10:49:02 GMT by fairchild.txt
Post by Reya Starlyght on Oct 12, 2019 1:00:13 GMT
Oh, the pretentious attitude, it soured his mood more swiftly than mere disrespect ever had. Society was disingenuous, most certainly, and he found it entertaining at times to play by the silly rules and niceties it subscribed to, but it was nothing more than a game to him, laughable tactics to extract precisely what was needed out of others. Words were powerful things, yes, but with such a clear lack of tact coming from Callahan he had to resist the urge to wrinkle his nose. Not to mention, he hadn't been prepared to deal with this bullshit, probably should have had another coffee, maybe even a few drinks. Oh well, it was just another fact of life as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his coat, shaking his head with a soft chuckle. "As it would happen to be the vast majority of them are dead now, so I can't really complain," he responded with a smile, so easily betraying his true emotions as if they had never existed in the first place. For all intents and purposes they did not, Leo knew all too well to not let a thought slip through the barrier of his mind, in such a situation it was the only way to ensure things would end favorably.
Ah, but there were the mannerisms the man had previously practiced, so easily switching between the air of a gentleman to one used to always getting his way, who ruled by fear and terror alone. A terrible tactic, really, quite exhausting if not prone to bouts of rebellion from subjects, although undoubtedly Callahan was accustomed to dealing with the latter, and the former, well, his appearance alone gave away that story. To each his own, though, apparently it had worked out for the man in the long run. His subordinate presented a katana to him, Leo then vaguely recalling Jacqueline had carried one on her person, and although he hadn't bothered to check the specifics it was likely hers given the timing. Yet he could discern little from the weapon itself, instead narrowing his eyes upon Callahan's reaction. It was... familiar somehow to him? Perhaps Dalton had known more about the warehouse than he had let on, or it could be that the lieutenant herself had more than a trivial criminal family hidden in her past.
Yet that was far from important compared to the aura that soon emanated around Callahan, clearly magical in nature yet there was a flicker of something more tangible to Leo, another soul joining his mangled chorus. The grandiosity he ignored, instead tilting his head slightly, inquisitive prose forming upon his lips. "Ah, so that is how you are still alive. I suppose that does explain your stockpile below, though I'll admit I was expecting something a bit more... exciting." By exciting, he naturally meant violent, his tone casually applying it the word as if it were no different from any other. It was to gauge Callahan's reaction, to see if he were as mad as he already appeared to be. At least, that was what Leo rationed in the afterthought, although they were only lies he told himself, a deception he easily saw through but had long ago stopped truly caring about its consequence.
Downstairs would Jacqueline see a desperate scene play out before her eyes, as Delilah barely managed to pull at the collar now glowing more vibrantly before, making a signal that more or less equated to death, although soon enough the officer would find the message quite unnecessary. From a corner of the cargo container did a small girl cry out, though not affected by whatever it was consuming Delilah she seemed to turn away in horror, as if it had been her first time witnessing the event. "Daddy, please, help!" The girl banged her fists against the metal, yet in her youth of what was probably around nine or ten it had no effect except to elicit the stares of some of the other prisoners, waiting their turn in the holding cell of death.
While she hated herself for it, Jak found she had no choice but to ignore the crying child in favor of Delilah, who was growing weaker by the moment. And what's more, she seemed to be growing older in equal measure. The girl was scared, that much was true... But she was in no danger. No immediate danger, at least. In Jak's mind, Delilah was in need of her attention far more. And her time was rapidly running out.
Callahan's body continued to glow. However, the longer this went on, the brighter his aura became: as if it were bolstering him exponentially. His wrinkles quickly began to smooth, his eyes regaining a youthful glimmer. He was not turning into a young man, by any stretch of the imagination, but now... he was starting to look like the man who left Earthland behind all those centuries ago. A twinkle in his eye. A smile on his lips. Indeed, his age seemed mundane and his appearance... almost benign, like a grandfather eager to be babysitting his grandchildren for the first time.
However, as the glow surrounding his body reached its apex, it quickly declined. The moment the pleasant sensation of regaining his youth had ended, Callahan seemed to nearly instantly regain to his normal malevolent self-importance. He leapt from his chair giddily, knocking his assistant to the floor. His energy was akin to a child's, gleeful and spry. And likewise, his power seemed to be magnified, scores more powerful than it had been mere minutes ago. He was strong enough now that Leo might grow to regret patronizing his captor for so long. Not that he had much choice in the matter...
But now, it seemed, Callahan was not so worried about Leo's strength. Even his men had lowered their weapons, more concerned with Callahan losing his temper than with Leo escaping their employer's clutches. It seemed that, even though they had relaxed their aim... they were fearful for their lives now, more than ever. When he was resting... they were normally safe. But when he was active? It was hard to know what he might do. So rather than focus on Leonidas, they watched Callahan with bated breath. But Callahan seemed to be paying attention to none of it, not even Leonidas, himself. Clearly, he no longer considered Leo a threat, and with his back to the immortal, Callahan spoke loudly and confidently.
"Number Three: go down to storage and clear out the corpse."
A dark grin spread across his face as the goon who had been guarding Leonidas started to follow his order. However, something made the man stop in in tracks for a moment.
"... And bring the girl."
OoC: Is the girl Jak? Is it the little girl? Is it someone else entirely? IDK! But regardless, this is going to be how Jak will try to escape, so... you know... I guess we'll see how i tgoes. Sorry this took so long. Been super busy and pulled in a lot of different directions.
last edited Oct 29, 2019 8:57:15 GMT by fairchild.txt
Post by Reya Starlyght on Oct 21, 2019 20:19:02 GMT
Wifey dearest,
I just received an urgent order from a Boscan man called Callahan. He's requesting 200 flowers arranged in 22 bouquets, wants to know what you have on your mind. Given his timetable we'll likely have to call on some of the part-timers; I'm a bit tied up currently.
Leo
The clock struck a new hour and thus had she retrieved the crinkled piece of paper from the depths of nothingness, groaning for a moment as she read its contents although picking up a pen all the same. Of course it was written in code, thinly veiled to her... yet benign enough all the same, she supposed. After all, it was nothing more than a precaution, her eyes would be the only ones to set upon the print in any case.
Unfortunate, his bid for a conversation didn't seem to catch on. Oh well, there were other ways to stall, though it would be more unpleasant given that Callahan didn't seem to have a habit of monologuing, at least not when there were other things on his mind and he had the capacity to actually get up and do them. An efficient use of time, Leo supposed, likely the man was limited to how often he could get a source of life when it came to being out and about. It couldn't last long, the pulsating below him wouldn't be economical otherwise, nor would he have been in such an elderly condition just a few moments beforehand. An hour, a few days? His calculations were imprecise, but it had to fall within that range. But alas, such a variable didn't help much, either Callahan's unique ability would come into play soon, or he would never see it again.
The guards, no, their actions were much more intriguing. At once when the man had stood did his cronies seem to relax their aim in Leo's direction, or more precisely he caught the fear that crossed their eyes. Fools, even if they viewed Callahan as a greater threat than him, which they no doubt did, by leaving their wits behind them it would only signal to the man how disposable they truly were. Was there any way to manipulate their terror, though, it was the more important query to be mulled over. They had no collars mounted upon their throats, unlike Jacqueline and likely the other prisoners that had been taken, so it was likely their service was voluntary, but to what extent? For a split second a grin crossed Leo's visage, perhaps the prisoners below had two purposes, both to provide sustenance and control the man's contracted army. More likely, though, he was overthinking it, and thus did he resign himself to a wall nearby, the guards barely paying him mind as Callahan barked out his orders. A slow, rhythmic tapping began upon the white plaster, of no particular coded meaning although the song in his head was clear.
Number Three was nobody special, a man of about average height with brown hair, blue eyes, and a ruddy complexion. Clearing the staircase down to the main level he began to whistle, the tension released from his body as soon as he had left the presence of the boss. A few more steps and turns, and there was held the large cargo container, its stench detectable even from the distance. Procuring a hood from a nearby shelf did the man head in the direction of the two guards posted outside the entrance of the filthy cage. The worst job to have, they said, well aside from being with the boss himself. "Still alive, I see," one of them commented, in which the man pushed past him, a crackling baton brandished in one hand as the holding cell was unlocked.
"Bring her to me or I'll ensure you're next!" the man yelled while pointing at the girl who had previously been pounding at the container's side, her honeyed eyes just peaking out amidst her curled mane, wild with the unkempt tinge of panic. Amongst the prisoners some began to move, averting their eyes from the shriveled corpse as it was dragged out, some retreating to the far edges of their horror, while a few betrayed their fellow captives, advancing on the girl who began to scream, a shrieking that carried even to above.
I hope that will be a sufficient challenge for Jacqueline! As a note, Leo is quite clearly singing the notes of Moonlight Sonata - piano version - in his head, if Callahan bothers to pick up on that.
There wasn't much that could be shared. Really, none of them knew much about their captors... except that when their collar lit up, they would die. And once the body was drained, someone would come to clear away the body. And as Delilah breathed her last, they both knew it wouldn't be long before her corpse was taken away. Delilah may be gone... but maybe her death could mean something. Maybe... She could be the key to saving them all.
Jak removed her glove, tracing her palm across her face and closing her eyes for what would be the last time.
For now, Jak could only plan, and keep trying to contact the ISC. She wasn't stripped of her communicator when she was thrown into their makeshift prison... though after a few moments, it became clear why. She wasn't sure if it was the cargo container, the warehouse, or even magical energies, but something was creating interference. If she had some sort of magical ability... maybe she wouldn't be in such dire straits... but as it stood, that seemed to be the only reason she was put here in the first place: she was a Nonner. There was no hope for her to escape, as it stood now.
But that never stopped her from trying before. So Jak listened... And started to hatch a plan.
Meanwhile... Callahan waited with bated breath, although clearly something was distracting him... at least a little.
"Would you just stop already?" Callahan sneered, speaking to Leonidas, "Or at least pick something with a bit more pep?"
"I'd rather not be distracted for this... it's going to be... quite the show."
As he spoke, his lackey was busy opening the cargo container. Three separate locks. Holding three separate levers in place. While it only took a few moments to unlock, the anticipation made time seem to stand still. The door swung open, and Callahan's lacky shone a flashlight into the dim space. Near the back, he could see the newcomer, donned in her ivory armor, lost in thought, or perhaps in despair, her face buried in her hands, refusing to acknowledge her warden. The others seemed terrified of her, staying as far from the newcomer as possible. After all, she was plotting trouble... and trouble was met with consequences.
"You're... coming with me, kid." the lackey grunted, "Just come quietly and this'll all be over quick... er."
The girl cowered in the corner, the fear she felt before rendering her, now, mute with terror. She backed away from the annoyed man, whimpering under her breath, her eyes fixating on the corpse which lay in front of the unopened half of the cargo container's doors. They knew what was coming next. They were going to die. And more than anything... The girl didn't want to see that. She screwed up her face, hiding behind another prisoner as sharp black nails plunged into soft flesh. The woman in Delilah's clothes made quick work of Callahan's lackey, wrestling the pistol from his grip as she dug her blackened talons deeper into his neck. The smell of gunpowder, a splatter of blood and a deafening bang... and it was all over. She had noticed her claw-like fingernails in the cafe, and now they had come in handy.
One down.
The other prisoners scrabbled into the relative safety behind the still closed door as Jak grabbed tightly onto her newly secured firearm. She fired several rounds at her jailers, striking one in the chest and another in his arm. However, the old man seemed wholly unfazed, yanking a third man into her line of fire and using him as a human shield, saving him from near-certain death. He was quick. Insanely so. As if he knew what she was thinking. As if he knew what EVERYONE was thinking, all at once.
And at his side was the betrayer: Leonidas Aglaeca.
If not for what he did next, Jak would have shot him right then and there... and would have regretted it for the rest of her life. ((OoC: Sorry for the delay. Been super stressed out from Work I and Work II. But hey, it's time now for Callahan and his remaining goons to try and take down Jak, Leo and, maybe, everyone trapped in that cargo container. Some things to keep in mind... The chair is the key. Without it, Callahan's ability can only be activated via touch. But it's definitely a lot quicker when he's using it directly, than when he's using the chair. But he'd need to be grappling you in order for him to actually do much damage from that... The big problem, however... is he's so damn FAST.
Luckily, since only one of the cargo container's doors were opened, Jak and the other prisoners have a decent bullet shield... but Callahan's furious kicking feet and magical malice? Less so.))
last edited Oct 29, 2019 9:23:23 GMT by fairchild.txt
Post by Reya Starlyght on Oct 29, 2019 22:23:05 GMT
"Do please respect your history," he said politely, before dropping the facade. "If it's bothering you so much, get the fuck out of my mind. It'll only get more unbearable, trust me, I have to deal with it every day." He knew now, of course, that Callahan couldn't. A blessing and a curse, it was clear that he had no way of turning off his ability. And by revealing his planetary origins, the man had unwittingly exposed a weakness, one that was no better exploited by Leo himself, or he supposed those that had once also belonged to the task force so long ago, though he doubted any of them were still alive. The Blight, after all, was universally hated, reviled, feared, despaired by those who had once inhabited Earthland, those who had seen it face to face. And the song Callahan had scorned, well the first time he had heard its wavelength was in a memory crystalline as always despite its occurrence a millennium ago. And thus did his thoughts begin to process the excruciating nightmare, the grin wiped off his face yet his imminent focus still remained in the present, unlike the man he hoped to pull back to an elder time.
Not before Callahan had a change of heart, at least when it came to his position of inaction. His guards accompanied him, one of them gesturing with a firearm for Leo to come along. Well, he supposed it was less of a gesture and more of an open-ended threat, but either way he wanted to continue on with their lovely conversation, not to mention perhaps it would be a good idea to do something about the prisoners Callahan had stockpiled like cattle. What exactly that something would be, however, would depend on the moment. He had no real plan of action beyond the one flaw observed, they always went to shit anyway so what was the point? And thus did the humming within his mind continue, much to the annoyance of the old man, but even with his short temper he had yet to dispose of Leo. Of course, it was quite obvious the reason why, no doubt using him as a battery would be the best analogy, but alas it was a scheme he was not too fond of, even if it would save others' lives. Better to cut off the cancer where it grew, and that was precisely what Callahan was, a useless individual stealing the lives of others for his own vitality.
It disgusted him. Not because of the moral implications, so to speak, but there was a certain ounce of... he supposed it was pride, in his age, although perhaps the better word would be responsibility. And the man, well, he cared for none of it, not the greater good - although Leo often struggled with that himself - nor even in basic human decency. A child, playing around with his toys with no regard to their sentience; then again, that was probably just the confinement talking. Whatever the case, Callahan was irritating, he had better things to do, and the sight and stench of the cargo container weren't helping to quell his growing unpleasant mood. If anything it only served as fuel in the blaze that he soon released, dropping the mask of mental shielding in all categories except for his actions and direct thoughts themselves. The memories were nothing new to Leo, of course, he blocked them out on a regular basis anyway, but voiced to a new audience, well, he almost felt bad.
Almost was a fair bit away from actually, however. "Apgeisraden," Leo muttered under his breath, his grip soon finding the hilts of two swords he had not wielded in quite some time. In a whirlwind of motion did he strike down the guard who had previously posed a threat on his life with his wavering pistol, his chest reduced to slivers of skin and bone even as a shot rang out from another source, quickly ablated by a body thrown in front of Callahan. It was then that Leo locked on eyes on the lieutenant, her hand dripping in blood all the same. With no time to spare, he brought Serenitas down upon the man's backside, hoping that the unfortunate circumstances of his ability would be enough for Leo to catch him off guard, if even for a moment.