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A Mediocre Showdown Not Really Tied to Anyone’s Destiny.

For arranged battles not directly affiliated with the Dystopian Universe. Battles in this forum are not restricted by Dystopia's RP guidelines.

A Mediocre Showdown Not Really Tied to Anyone’s Destiny.

Postby Shin on Mon May 23, 2011 9:27 pm

Who: Anyone and Everyone.

What: A medium powered free for all tournament.

When: Is not canon so ‘when’ exactly is not important.

Where: The ruins of an underground city the rises high with spiraling towers and crosses chasms with long and thin bridges.

Why: The characters wake at the same time to find themselves in this city, pulled from where and when ever they were.

You find yourself waking in a strange location, a constant gloom permeates the underground city. Small glowing crystals spaced every two hundred feet emanate enough light to see and function but cast long and deep enough shadows for dark things to hide in.

The city itself sports many large buildings and spiraling towers whose tops vanish into the darkness above. Thousands of statues lay scattered about the city seemingly in no particular order, their detail and beauty rivaled by only that of the buildings themselves.

Each warrior in the city is there for a reason important to them, important enough they would kill for. Be it they believe a loved one is in danger and that the individuals there are responsible, a great and terrible evil is about to awaken, or any other reason you can think of. Just make sure to state that reason.



___


Dav was uncomfortable, he knew before he opened his eyes he was laying on a hard, uneven wooden floor. Before he even dared to move Davlamin listened for the tiniest sound, anything that would tell him he wasn’t alone.

Carefully Davlamin moved to his feet, checking his persons to make sure he had everything. He was sorely disappointed when he realized he only had the sword on his left hip, he checked his ears hastily to make sure the book shaped earrings were in both ears, they were.

Relieved that he still had some form of protection he closed his eyes next and concentrated, blocking out all outside distractions. He smiled when the spells he had memorized earlier came to mind. He also noted that the minor enchantment that constantly surrounded him as long as he was conscious was still intact.

Briefly Davlamin remembered several of the countless times that that enchantment had saved his life and every time he thanked the elves of the Silverwood for their training. His hand came to rest on the second of three gifts he had received from the elves, a beautifully crafted long sword of elven steel with a hilt made to look like the head of a dragon, its eyes two beautiful sapphires and the blade made to look like it was erupting from the creatures mouth as if it was spewing forth a silver blade of fire. The detail went so far as to include flame carvings on the flats of the blade that reacted when Davlamin channeled his magic through it.

Dav was in what was once a church, or so he guessed, he had been laying on the floor before stone steps that lead to a crumbling altar to a deity that Davlamin couldn’t identify. Stretching behind him was a dozen rows of pews, many of which were smashed to pieces.

He didn’t know how he had gotten here, but he knew that she was somewhere in this…place. Somewhere out there in the city and he would find her this time no matter who he had to cut through, she was calling to him and he would answer. With steps growing more bold and determined Davlamin approached the large wooden double doors that would lead him out into the vast and abandoned underground city.
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Re: A Mediocre Showdown Not Really Tied to Anyone’s Destiny.

Postby Paroxysm on Tue May 24, 2011 12:35 am

After years of fighting for your life, you tend to develop and hone certain skills out of necessity; in this respect, it comes to no surprise that light sleeping isn't just the first to be learned, but also the one to see the most use. In contrast, it was a surprise when Heita Kiosna, a retired Faction operative and current patron of a small orphanage/clinic in a rural Cizokian town, woke to find himself in a . . . a subterranean city? Okay, that was a new one even for him. Uninhabited tropical islands, a border town just outside of Darokin full of zombies, a shade infested village near Algeroth, and a quaint little bread and breakfast in Prompt (in his defense, Eri had drugged him and left him there after he called her a cow). Really, it was a pretty awesome list of places he had woken up in without any memory of how he had gotten there, but this one definitely took the cake. It was much more grand and elaborate.

He silently (and quite amusedly) wondered which of his sworn enemies had taken it upon themselves to orchestrate something of this level. It was pretty impressive, he had to admit. Fortunately, he had been looking for trouble and it was a good thing that it found him this time; normally, he had to go out and look for it.

Sadly and skillfully, Heita ran down a mental checklist of what he was missing, which was just about everything even semi-associated with his former profession: he had no sword, no vials of poisons, no projectiles, no knives or tacks. There were other, less important and traditional tools that he was missing, as well, but for all intents and purposes, he definitely didn’t look like a seasoned killer. Thankfully, he wasn’t entirely defenseless, even without his killing implements. He had a small pack of scalpels, his knowledge of human anatomy, a Qi-based instantaneous foot technique - oh, and a monstrous level of strength. That helped take the edge off being unarmed.

He shifted his shoulders underneath his haori and turned his head sharply, cracking his neck with solid, sickening pops.

It appeared that Heita was in a tower of sorts; at least, he was pretty sure he was in a tower - it was a small room, a spiraling stairway lead down and another lead up, and there was a window cut into the stone wall, a window that showed that he was . . . Yep, quite high up. Fun.

He approached the window and poked his head out; first, he looked up and then he looked down.

“Hnh,” he grunted and climbed out onto the sill.

He wasn’t quite so strong as to survive a fall from this height, but a mixture of strength, skill at scaling, some fancy footwork, and he’d find himself at the base of the tower, looking around for some sign of life and already concocting dangerous, deadly traps in his mind. He’d have to set up a parameter somewhere in the city, after all. He wanted to be the one to leave the surprises, not discover them.

Hopefully, there’d be things he could use as supplies in some of the buildings. A few weeds here, some black powder there, a pinch of that and a strand of this, and he’d have a nice explosion lot of smoke ready for some unlucky fool.
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Re: A Mediocre Showdown Not Really Tied to Anyone’s Destiny.

Postby Nayt on Sat May 28, 2011 5:29 pm

I am ...


A street, empty and lifeless. Crumbled. Rubbled. Cast aside forever. How long had it been here? How long had SHE been there? Time lost its appeal in the absence of Memories.

I am ... Aki ...


She'd been in the street for Gaia knows long, walking, wandering with no direction nor mind. It felt like being list somewhere in a half dream, one filled with half recognized images: a gray world, a family, a village boy and a battlefield. Her brother, the lake, a scythe, and that girl of umbra persiasion. And light. Everywhere, light. And in it, fragments of memories, scattered and jumbled up and devoid of sentience, drifting apart within a sea of lost and distant lives. Fragments herself were lost in there, and she could only cling to so many.

... zetsu ...


Her name. Akizetsumei.

Her image. A young woman no older than twenty, thin and flexible, and gifted with a red hip hugging Cizokian dress, cut short at her thighs for movement, for modesty's sake. She had platinum blond hair, long and kept back in two pig tails, and clouded scarlet eyes.

Her identity. Lost.

Her memory. Lost.

Her weapon. A pair of steel fans, unfamiliar and gray. Not red. She remembered those. The red fans. They had something to do with her. Some missing part of the equation. A lost piece if a puzzle that needed to be found.

It felt like the first time she'd ever opened her eyes, as if this was the first image she was to ever behold ... this ... street. This broken street and the decrepit buildings all around it. A church nearby. A tower further down, overlooking it all. She'd no idea other names, yet she recognized their shape.

"H-huuuuh?" She noises as she came to a dead stop. Where the heck was she?!
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Re: A Mediocre Showdown Not Really Tied to Anyone’s Destiny.

Postby Paroxysm on Sun May 29, 2011 1:46 pm

Heita had been in the process of wrapping and fastening the semi-thick leather that held his scalpels around his forearm when he heard a distinct, familiar sound; it was the first sounds of life he had heard since he awoke and thus, he felt almost required to investigate. Unfortunately, the sound was just on the very fringe of hearing. No, that wasn’t entirely correct, either - a normal person wouldn’t have even picked up on it. His senses were stretched to their limits and he had barely felt which direction it came from. If it had been closer, he might have gleamed a few details about the person . . . Not much, general information, really, but it would have been enough to set up an ambush or to shadow them. They may have been who abducted him and left him here, after all.

With the way things were, however, he had only the direction, and the curiosity to seek out the source of the sound. Without his load-out, he was still pretty formidable, though; it wasn’t too worrying a situation.

Aided by muscle memory and reflex, Heita bent low and ran off towards the direction that the sound had originated from; like before, he was a blur of motion and force. He wasn’t as fast as he was a few years ago, but it was more than most people would accomplish. Momentarily, as he passed by the church, he bounced around a series of watchful glances, expertly and hurriedly watching out for others; he was suddenly aware of the possibility that he could very well be walking into an ambush specifically meant for him.

He smiled. This was exactly the reason he had wanted to find trouble so badly. To fight, to live and die . . . Retirement had taken his edge off and he was due to fix that.

A figure. Feminine, a woman - the source of the sound? White haired and fair; she was cute, but he wouldn’t have called her beautiful. Cizokian? Interesting, but she wasn’t one of his. Neither an enemy nor a friend that he recognized, but he had, had memory problems since a while ago; he had holes in his memory that needed filling and there were people that he just couldn’t recall anymore. Still, this woman wasn’t familiar in the least.

“Freelancer?” He said to himself as he came to a stop in one of the numerous deep, dark shadows. He was lucky his sense of style hadn’t changed much; his kamishimo was all of various dark colors, but never black. Mostly, it was all dark-green, changing only in slightly darker or lighter shades; it helped aid in concealment.
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Re: A Mediocre Showdown Not Really Tied to Anyone’s Destiny.

Postby Kensaki on Sun May 29, 2011 1:57 pm

The crowd sounded as a dull roar from beneath the stadium. The masses hungered for more blood, the fights so far hadn't sated their primal desires to witness death. It was only a matter of time before the platform would begin to rise, before he would once more roll the dice....

Saran al'Harradin sat up in the semi-darkness. For a moment, he thought he really was still in the pits, but the clarity of wakefulness soon showed him otherwise. He took in his surroundings warily; he was in a large room, full of benches that faced a long, ornate stone table with similarly ornate stone chairs lined up behind it. A large brass plate on the wall behind the chairs showed a great scale. A hall of justice? How strange.

The Vaelian's eyes lit up when he saw his gear stacked a few feet away from him, although the oddity of it did not escape his notice. He moved over and quickly dressed, strapping on his few pieces of armor and settling his extra spears in their place at his back. As he picked up his shield, he noticed with consternation that his sword, the silver gladius, was missing. He searched around, but did not see it. There seemed little choice but to explore the area, and possibly find out where he was or why he was here.

As Saran exited the building, his eyes went wide with wonder. He appeared to be in a city that itself was inside of a giant cavern! Before he could think too much about it, however, the light from the strange crystals above reflected off of something in the street. As he moved closer, he realized that the metallic object was his sword, stuck into the ground point first, and partially obscured by a cloth rag that had been tied around the grip. He moved to pull the sword from the ground, and noticed something else; a message had been scrawled below the sword, as if carved into the street itself.

Will you kill for them, gladiator?

A chill went down Saran's spine as he identified the cloth that had been tied to the sword. It was a worn, partially destroyed Vaelian flag. What did this mean? Were some of his people alive in this underground city? Saran's eyes hardened, and he resolved to find out. Woe be to anyone who stood in his way, for after years of senseless killing for the crowds, killing for his people would almost be a pleasure. He set off down the street, moving lithely and keeping a wary eye on his surroundings.
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Re: A Mediocre Showdown Not Really Tied to Anyone’s Destiny.

Postby Nayt on Sun May 29, 2011 3:11 pm

Akizetsumei folded her arms over her diaphragm and pouted. She'd no idea where she was or how she got there. She didn't remember where she was before it, either. She only recalled the blur and some select images, that tall man who looked like a living mountain (of muscles), that scrawny, cold man, a distressed man in a lake, a woman with a violin, a warm woman smiling, and a village boy. She could barely make out that woman of umbra persuasion. Who ... who were those people? And what did they have to do with her fans?

She looked down at the steel fans, unfolded her arms and held them both in one hand. No, these weren't her fans. The red fans were hers, and they had something to do with those people. Maybe something to do with why she was here and how she got here, even. Where she came from, too.

Ugghhh.

Thinking about it too hard was making her head hurt. All she decided it was best to know was that there was a red pair steel fans and she needed to regain them. Somehow find them, maybe? But where would they be? Looking around, she could see buildings forever. And then when she looked up, there was darkness. The fans could've been anywhere! Well, maybe it'd be easier if she found someone and asked. But ... there were no people, either! No ... that couldn't be right. Akizets could've sworn she heard movement on the wind ...

Well, the easiest way to find someone was ... oh, right. She had a voice to speak with. That was good to know. She could find someone that way. And without the slightest hint of hesitation, she called out: "Hellooooooo?"

The echo effect on that one was sure to get the attention of someone helpful, she could feel it!
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Re: A Mediocre Showdown Not Really Tied to Anyone’s Destiny.

Postby Shin on Sun May 29, 2011 4:27 pm

(We should get some sort of posting order up, it’s a pain when people post two or three times without others posting. I suggest we stay close to what the posting order should have been. Myself, Alex, Nate and Kensaki. If that makes sense.)

The two very large, steel and intricately carved doors of the church swung inward and slammed against the walls, leaving a single figure as nothing more than a silhouette within the larges arch of a doorway. Bright light spilling out from the church, fighting back the darkness.

Davlamin stood at the top of the stairs that lead down to the street, his eyes adjusting to the gloom that was a stark contrast to the church. He almost debated turning around and going back to the much more inviting atmosphere, almost.

He rested a hand on the hilt of his sword to calm his nerves and slowly and methodically took each step, staying as vigilant as he could. Truthfully, because he was a Ruathar, Dav was able to see in the dim light as easily as he would if he were under the sun and he silently thanked his dear friends for that. Not only that though, his hearing and sight were more keen as well and while they weren’t on super human levels they were certainly better than what the used to be. It was like experiencing the world with a new set of eyes, seeing and hearing things he hadn’t before.

“Where in the abyss am I?” He whispered to himself, his eyes scanning up to see nothing but darkness and down along the street. The only hint of life was the glowing crystals that acted as lanterns magically suspended every two hundred feet or so, something had to sustain them…right?

Davlamin looked back at the church, it was much larger then it appeared from the inside. Now, looking at it from the outside he had to guess that the door he exited from wasn’t even the main door, it seemed the church stretched the better part of the block and up at least six stories. Davlamin had merely exited out of one of the ‘lesser’ churches that banned together to make up the greater church.

“Interesting….” Dav mumbled and lightly stroked his hairless chin which now had a slightly more angular feature, giving him a more exotic look and had (much to his enjoyment) made him more popular with the ladies. For the moment Dav stood in the dim-light provided by the crystals, the door since having shut on it’s own, and pondered what action to take next. He had to start looking somewhere, the problem was simply where? The place was massive and searching it alone would take the gods only knew how long.

Luckily something happened before Dav could get any deeper in thought, he heard a voice, it’s sound echoing all around him. Dav turned in the direction he thought it had come, from the other side of the church no doubt on the street running parallel if he had to guess and waited to see if he heard more, straining his ears to pick out any sounds he could.
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Re: A Mediocre Showdown Not Really Tied to Anyone’s Destiny.

Postby Paroxysm on Sun May 29, 2011 4:35 pm

Offtopic: Posting order was irrelevant until characters started meeting, lol.

Heita watched the platinum haired oriental curiously, but he kept his curiosity reigned in to just that point; he hadn’t thought to approach or make his presence known just yet. The woman appeared confused, but it could have been an act; she was maybe in pain, too, from the looks of it, but he wasn’t entirely sure. From his perspective, she looked more than healthy, at least physically, and she was neither malnourished nor overweight. There were no obvious wounds, but that left internal injuries. Given her appearance, she hadn’t recently been the victim of an attack.

She could be just like you, he thought to himself. Kidnapped, maybe?

The urge to cringe worked itself through his shoulders and back when the woman shouted a greeting. Had she seen him? No, he hadn’t made any obvious mistakes, he was sure of that. Were her senses that good? Then maybe she wasn’t quite as innocent as she appeared. A random woman abducted off the streets of Cizok wasn’t going to detect him that easily.

He briefly considered his options. He could easily deliver a blow to her sternum, either with hand or scalpel, and that’d be that. Alternatively, there were plenty of buildings to drag her to if he knocked her unconscious. He could easily interrogate her that way, but . . . Well, if she wasn’t faking, then he’d feel horrible.

No, even if she was experienced, he was far, far more so. He was sure he could handle anything she had.

“Ah, yes,” he said and emerged from the shadows. “Hello.”

And then he was in front of her, his right arm extended, open-palm and fingers pointing upwards, his hips rotated and carried the force, his form was perfect, but, while his target had been her chest, he hadn’t actually followed through with the attack; he withdrew the limb and hand almost immediately afterward.

A feint.

He straightened up a bit, but he was prepared to react at a moment's notice. Maybe he had gone too soft? Tokkaido would probably laugh at him. In the end, he just wanted to know if the girl was as innocent as she appeared.
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Re: A Mediocre Showdown Not Really Tied to Anyone’s Destiny.

Postby Nayt on Sun May 29, 2011 5:15 pm

Offtopic: I suggest a looser posting order. If all parties are in the same scene, then that. Otherwise, if there are different scenes happening at once, theres no since holding one up needlessly.

A voice. It sounded a lot like the voice she heard a few seconds ago. Was this that person? It didn't matter. This was a person! Akizets was overjoyed just to know there was someone here she could talk to. Maybe they'd even help her out? That'd just vessel, really.

"Hi!" She intoned cheerfully as she saw the man slip out of ... nowhere, really, and show up in front of her. "Uh--"

And then the feint. It came out of nowhere and duly surprised her, though perhaps for the wrong reason. Akizets was fast, though. She'd no idea why, nor how, but Heita's quick motion had her leaping back swiftly, as if some instinct drove her to move against her conscious thought. And indeed, it was fast. Fast enough that had Heita been actively trying to hit her, he would have actually missed, albeit by an inch.

With her arms across her chest, protecting what she thought this man was grabbing for, Akizetsumei pouted disapprovingly and intoned her retort with the utmost protest.

"Wh-- what's the big idea, ya jerk!" Akizets cried with a stamp of her foot on the ground.
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Re: A Mediocre Showdown Not Really Tied to Anyone’s Destiny.

Postby Paroxysm on Sun May 29, 2011 5:50 pm

Offtopic: Like Nate said, I'll probably be posting when the scene calls for it. I'll go to the posting order when multiple people are in the same scene. That's how posting orders are usually born, after all.

She may have yet been innocent and her movements weren’t entirely skillful, but she was definitely a considerable degree higher in aptitude than he had initially thought. At least her attitude put him a little at ease; she could have used his feint against him and pursued an attack. The fact that she didn’t gave him some measure of her person.

“Was just making sure.” He replied dryly with a shrug. “Sorry, but at least it wasn’t the alternative.”

Heita did not, in fact, elaborate on what the alternative was. Explaining to her that he was going to go with a scalpel and an actual attack, if even just to nick her, would probably have put her further on guard, and then she might not have told him who she was or how she got here. Information could only help him in this situation. Assuming, of course, she had information worth knowing. . .

Was this where he introduced himself? He was never good at this kind of thing. Actually, he had probably already ruined his first impression . . . Yeah, she definitely thought of him as a murdering psychopath now. Not that it wasn’t entirely true or deserved.

“What’s your name? How did you get here?”

He stretched his senses out again, feeling and stealing glances here and there. If she was bait, now would be a good time for someone else to show up and attack. He’d probably have to retreat and prepare, if that happened, but right now, he didn’t feel any danger. His sixth sense was pretty good.
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Re: A Mediocre Showdown Not Really Tied to Anyone’s Destiny.

Postby Nayt on Sun May 29, 2011 8:23 pm

Akizets frowned. She was seriously put off by what he did, and not even because she felt like he was going to try to kill her or something. Rather, he'd reached for her chest, and ... well ... it was probably clear by the way she was guarding her chest,.even still, what she thought he was doing. Which meant she felt threatened, but not for the reasons Heita wanted to convey. This put her on her guard a little more than if he simply tried to hit her. She didn't instinctively think he was a psycho, just a horrible pervert.

"Th-- the alter--" she trailed off. "You are reeeeaally going about this the wrong way!"

Still clutching her arms to her chest, she frowned at Heita and had to refrain from stamping her foot down again. What'd this guy even want from her, anyway?! Maybe shouting like that was a bad idea. All she did was drag out the perverts! Or at least one pervert.

"I dunno where I am," she answered regardless, though still didn't put down her guard. "I dunno how I got here, either ..."

That didn't answer the question of who she was, but she was still a bit weary about this guy. Wait, a bit?! She was weary as heck around this guy!
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Re: A Mediocre Showdown Not Really Tied to Anyone’s Destiny.

Postby Paroxysm on Sun May 29, 2011 9:06 pm

Offtopic: /Cough. Okay, Nate and me will be, uh, waiting until someone else actually posts now. Rather than chain posting this thread into oblivion.

“Oh? Ah, am I?” He asked, but was not expecting an answer.

Despite her prowess, at least when it came to speed and reaction, the girl seemed kind of off, but not much of a threat. Plus, it seemed he had guessed right: he put her on guard, but, unfortunately for her and him, he still thought she was on guard because he had pretended to attack her. To Heita, an open-palmed strike was an obvious attack and not a groping gesture. Now, if it had been a clawed hand, it probably wouldn’t have taken him too long to figure out why she was still guarding her chest.

She hadn’t given him her name and it wasn’t lost on him, but he didn’t press for it. Thankfully, her name was ultimately irrelevant and he was only asking because it appeared to be a more acceptable opener to conversation. Not the most efficient, however; he should have just knocked her unconscious and interrogated her in an empty building. Less trouble, more information - efficiency at its best.

“I see.” He said and nodded to himself, momentarily ignoring Akizetsumei. “Maybe she isn’t looking to kill me? I guess,” he paused, thought about it for a second and then agreed with himself, “you don’t seem too hostile. Kind of remind me of someone, actually . . . Hhh, but next time someone jumps out at you like that, grab their arm and pull. Move over and,” his eyes wandered from her face to her fans, then the slit in her dress that revealed her hips; she had an interesting choice of clothing, to say the least, “then,” he took one of his fists and gestured at his temple. “You’ve got the speed for it.”

He recalled a young orphan with steel colored hair; she reminded him of that young girl and now, now he didn’t want to see her hurt. Whatever their situation, it was definitely dangerous and he was silently glad that it had been him to find her and not someone else. Maybe this is why he felt obligated to give her a tip.
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Re: A Mediocre Showdown Not Really Tied to Anyone’s Destiny.

Postby Shin on Mon May 30, 2011 7:05 pm

Davlamin had been right on two accounts, the first being that the church was much larger than it had first appeared to be and second was that the scream had come from the street running parallel to the one he had first stepped onto.

He had decided to run around the church, thinking he would be able to get there rather quickly. Not only had he been wrong about how long it would take him but he came out a clear block away from he had been.

Davlamin slid to a stop in the middle of the street, first looking left and then right. It was then, over a football fields length away, he saw two fingers standing in the middle of the street. Even with his naturally keen eyes Davlamin could only make out that one was a male and the other female.

He didn’t know if he had been spotted yet and it didn’t matter if he had, Dav wasn’t the type to skulk from shadow to shadow. He walked openly, down the center of the street, a hand resting comfortably on the hilt of his weapon and his mind carefully going over which spells could be useful in the upcoming situation.
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Re: A Mediocre Showdown Not Really Tied to Anyone’s Destiny.

Postby Nayt on Tue May 31, 2011 4:05 pm

Kill this guy? Akizets certainly had no intentions of doing that. That was horrible. Why would she ever want to kill a person? Now she was not fond of him trying to grab her, and if she could avoid inappropriate groping during her unwilling stay in this place, she'd give it her all to make sure that didn't happen. Which might have had something to do with the advice her gave her, or something like that.

"Umm ..." she trailed off awkwardly, "th-- thanks?"

That still didn't make her drop her guard. She still took his advice to heart, though. If it ever came up again, she would most totally do that. But still ...

"Umm ..." again, she trailed off and was uncomfortably quiet, "do ... do you know where we are?"

Dav would come close enough to see the entire scene unfold. A man tried to grab a woman's chest or something line that and she dis not at all appreciate it. Though, of course, he probably wouldn't hear much aside from the woman yelling at the guy, and without added context, it'd certainly make the scene look MUCH different ...
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Re: A Mediocre Showdown Not Really Tied to Anyone’s Destiny.

Postby Paroxysm on Tue May 31, 2011 7:10 pm

Heita coughed; it was probably odd to start instructing random women, especially women he had pretended to attack, on self defense (though also a possible way to pick up certain women, he decided in thought) and was suddenly self-conscious because of it. Teaching the children had left its mark, he realized.

“Do I? No,” he answered, “I don’t.”

In fact, Heita knew no one who could have done anything even remotely close to this . . . Scale. Plus, if this girl was also abducted, then there was little chance it specifically had to deal with him, anyways; he was pretty sure he didn’t know this girl at all.

It was a little odd that there was literally no one else around . . . Well, there were a few presences here and there, but this was a city, a freakin’ huge city and in a huge city, there was rarely ever a lack of people.

So where was everyone?

He approached closer to the girl and, from a third perspective, would look as though he was menacing over her, like he could attack at any second.

“Something’s not right,” he said just under his breath.
Image

FATAL KERNEL ERROR_
Mind link to COMP disconnected_
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Paroxysm
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