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Post by Deleted on Sept 14, 2010 6:33:00 GMT -5
Yazoo walked in. His gunblade on his right hip. He took it out and fired a round. "Right. Elstan Shadow, where are you?" he called. His glare was cold and harsh that the people around him coward. "If anyone has seen a girl that looks like Sephiroth tell me now. I need her blood." he said, pointing his gun at everyone in the room.
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Post by fricco on Sept 14, 2010 14:01:32 GMT -5
Debating whether to stick around or leave the bar, Fricco had been standing near the doorway when the silver-haired man barged in with guns blazing. Passing a sidelong glance toward the newcomer, his lips drew thin.
Leaving was starting to seem like a better idea.
Although he had been in his fair share of scuffles in the past—particularly while in prison—he preferred to avoid situations that could lead to a physical confrontation.
They simply weren't his kind of battlefield.
Still…
He was very, truly, despairingly bored.
And...
At this hour, he only had his garish home and his clingy boyfriend to return to...
So, poking his tongue against the side of his cheek, the young actor rolled his gaze toward the center of the room and tilted his head.
“Perhaps…” he said curtly.
Then, after a short pause, he nodded toward the woman near the bar.
“Ya mean someone like that sword-swingin’ chick over there?”
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Post by Deleted on Sept 14, 2010 14:27:38 GMT -5
Yazoo wasn't too amused by this comment. He tilted his head and his silver fringe fell more into his left eye. He pointed his gun at the stranger and smiled. "Hmph. You're not worth this bullet." he smirked. Yazoo walked over to his ex-wife. "Where is Mother?" he asked. He grapped her hair and pulled just to intimidate her.
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Post by fricco on Sept 14, 2010 14:41:35 GMT -5
Fricco just gave a blank look at the silver-haired man and his gun.
Yet, while he showed no fear toward the newcomer's attempt at intimidation, such fearlessness was not born out of any sense of bravery or bravado.
The youth was simply unable to conjure an emotion reaction.
And so, Fricco did nothing but watch as the silver-haired man withdrew and left to speak with the woman.
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Post by kurootome on Sept 14, 2010 14:50:23 GMT -5
The night was still maturing. The stars were nothing but holes in the fabric of night. Yet the woman walked among it as if she was the creature of night itself. She seemed almost the embodiment of darkness and grace.
She had, had that awful nightmare again. The one where she wakes up in hell and sees ‘it’. It is bigger than her, more powerful and darker. ‘It’ is[\i] her. In the end she could not sleep. No it was too much to ask. Who was she kidding? Insomnia was second nature to her. When she did sleep, it was very lightly.
She wore mainly black. Black jean jacket that went to mid waist, with a baggy gray tank that may dip a bit low in the collar. To finish it she wore blue jeans and a black belt. Definitely not her usual attire but it worked at about this time.
The bar seemed devoid of life from the outside except for a young gentleman, whom seemed vaguely familiar from where she stood. She slowly strolled up, to see what he was staring at. She frowned slightly at the sight in there. “Well, ‘Fricco’, that is what you are called now, ne? Seems this place is a bloody mess.” She murmured.
Typical of men to fudge up a place. Couldn’t they all just settle this with rational conversation? Without another word to Fricco, she slid passed him and into the bar. She bumped into Yazoo in her rush to stand in the center of all this chaos. “Excuse me.” It was as if she had no idea he was holding a weapon in the first place. She was NOT going to let them ruin her drinking night.
Once she had surrounded herself in chaos, she stood firm. “Now, now! Look at the mess you created. I am sure the owners are not happy with this sort of behavior in their bar.” Her eyes swept from Yazoo to the others. She pocketed something. “What is the root of this problem? Disagreements?” Her eyes swept to Elstan, “Ah I see now, you fellas are all riled up over a girl.”
She smoothly walked to Elstan breaking the contact between Yazoo and her. After all she couldn't properly evaluate the situation if there was a violent motion toward another person. She gently took her by the chin, and observed her.
She took a few steps back and looked at the boys. She elbowed Trever playfully and winked, “That girl is a looker, but nothing to get attached to. I see bad news written all over her face. Though that could be the fact she has been caught in the act.”
Her face turned to Ningyo, “And you look like you need a good time. “ She made an exaggerated gesture at him as if she were blowing a kiss.
However when she turned back to Yazoo she frowned and shook her head. “Now let me try to figure out your situation. Just why would you want to go and spill the blood of a pretty young thang? Bit off more than you can chew with her?” She took a few steps toward him, but still stopped midway. Her arms were crossed, and she seemed relatively harmless at this stage. She probably looked more like a local crazy than anything. I mean what normal person would waltz in like that in this situation?
"Mommy issues shouldn't come to this. After all, most men your age want to avoid their mothers."
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Post by fricco on Sept 14, 2010 16:18:34 GMT -5
At the mention of his current alias, Fricco half turned to see an old, familiar face. He smiled with slight turn of his lips and a wrinkling to his eyes.
“Kuro,” the actor drawled in a low tenor, but otherwise said nothing as the women slid past him and into chaos.
Intrigued at Her unexpected arrival, Fricco leaned against the wall adjacent to the door. With folded arms, Fricco watched as the woman confronted those in the bar. His thin smile took on the hints of a smirk as Kuro distracted the others with cutting word while she pilfered their pockets—all the while leaving her targets unaware of her slight-of-hand.
Dearest Kuro Otome.
It had surely been a while since they’d first met—he had been just a young stage hand at the Gold Saucer’s Event Square—and every encounter since that first meeting had always taken him by surprise. The lying bitch had a habit of consistently getting his is way and beating him at his own game.
In Kuro, Fricco saw his greatest adversary.
And…
If he had the capacity for such devotion, Fricco supposed that he could fall utterly in love with her for that...
For surely, she would make just as marvelous a partner as opponent.
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Post by michimoro on Sept 14, 2010 17:30:26 GMT -5
With hands cleansed of blood, Velent Gram stepped out of the restroom and reentered the bar. It seemed that more people had entered since he had made his hasty departure, and that another fight was about to start.
Gram heaved a sigh and shook his head. He had come to this bar for some quiet and peace, as well as a few drinks, only to find himself in the middle of a fight between squabbling children.
Kids these days…
All they seemed to want to do was break out into battle over the most inconsequential of provocation.
He was getting too old for this; maybe it was time to call it a night and return to his motel room.
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Post by kurootome on Sept 14, 2010 18:56:34 GMT -5
Fricco seemed to make her voice sound like a melody. She was amused he still remembered an old girl like herself. She smiled briskly. Adversary? Kuro never perceived him as much, though she did like to think of it as a game. The word opponent came to mind, though that may a little different than adversary. Her eyes looked over to Gram, whom she notice come out of the bathroom.
She quickly took note of his expression. Definitely the expression of someone who expected this upon coming out. He must have been here before hand.
She came up with a second proposal instead of fighting. "Now, you guys can go ahead, and make a bloody mess, without disregard for the audience you will acquire. After all, you guys only look like a bunch of ruffians, not heroes or saints."
She crossed her stride over to Gram, before she allowed him to leave. The more people she could get to stand against this fight the more likely they would stop, ne? "Besides me and this fine young man here," Her arms wrapped around one of Gram's, with disregard to personal space. Her chest pressed against his arm as she did so, "would love to have a drink with me, and in peace if you don't mind."
"So I suggest, stop fighting, and maybe have a drinking contest. With bets made mind you." She let go of Gram's arm and placed her hands on her hips, "I will be judge, if you so decide to settle it in this manner."
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Post by michimoro on Sept 14, 2010 22:02:37 GMT -5
“Count me out,” Gram declined in the gravelly voice of a heavy smoker. “I’ve little interest in games with unrily children.”
And he didn’t, really.
Using his restorative material to revive the silver-haired women’s victim had sapped his mental fortitude and ran his patience thin. Now, he was more interested in bed than social interaction.
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Post by kurootome on Sept 14, 2010 22:38:04 GMT -5
Almost mother-like she glared at the crowd "Now look, you made him want to leave." Perhaps that would persuade some of them to stop their child-like brawling.
She snaked out a hand to take his wrist, in case he wanted to leave. It was not a hard hold and he could break her grasp if he wanted to. Her eyes ran over Gram's persona this time in detail, trying to figure out a way to keep him here. For some reason intuition said that he could be someone important, at least in her book. His appearance was meager, and grungy looking.
Perhaps...
She leaned forward a little, and whispered, "Just stay for a little while, I promise to make it worth your time. I'll even buy you a few drinks and a meal." She let go of his wrist.
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Post by Marlene Wallace on Sept 15, 2010 16:04:49 GMT -5
[ Note to all in here - This is NOT, and I repeat NOT a character I'll be fighting with. She can however fill in the plotline, be used to further a story's progress, but will not be an active AVALANCHE warrior. That's never been my intention when creating her. Also, bare in mind - Haven't done this in almost 2 years, and I originally thought it was one but it's safe to say I am seriously out of pratice. Please be kind. I will be rusty, but pratice makes perfect so here we go!]
The sudden sound of glass shattering against an unyielding object abruptly roused the small dark haired girl from her slumber. Mumbling incoherently for a moment, Marlene uncoiled her limbs and straightened her back out along the firmly made mattress. At first, her body protested. The very thought of sleep lured her ash colored lashes to fall haphazardly over her blurred gaze as she slipped in and out of sub consciousness.
Another noise from the floor below her room quickly robbed Marlene of sleep sending the small child upright in bed with eyes widened and alert. She wanted to call out for Tifa but something deep within her told her otherwise.
Forcing the covers back from her thin frame, she set her feet carefully against the floorboards studying the pattern she would inevitably make to aid her towards the ruckus from beneath the 7th Heaven’s living quarters. With haste, Marlene stepped cautiously with next to little sound over the worn beige carpeting to pause at the small junction that separated her room from Cloud and Tifa’s.
‘maybe I should check..’
Her head snapped back towards the hallway leading down when three distinct shots were fired into the room below. More alert than ever, Marlene forced her body to move towards the sounds rather than away. To some, hearing shots would cause most people to run in the opposite direction, but not Marlene. She wanted to know, … she needed to know what was going on.
Swallowing the thickening that quickly formed in her throat, the agile child guided herself carefully down the first flight of steps. She stalled with her back pressed firmly to the chilled concrete wall listening intently to the conversation of the patrons in the room.
There were at least two men and a woman…but at this angle, she couldn’t see a thing. Pursing her lips and with a determined brow, she made her way down the last bit of steps that ended near the opening of the industrial sized kitchen.
With a cat-like grace, she hunched down enough to walk with both her hands and feet making her way to the corner edge of the barroom. Taking a deep breath, Marlene visualized her adopted father. How strong and stout he would be, rushing into danger without a shred of fear. The thought of Cloud and Tifa, her surrogate family, how they’ve bested the planet’s worst threat and lived to tell about it. Surely, with role models such as these, she could confront whomever it was in room tearing it to pieces…surely
Sucking in as much air as her tiny lungs could contain, Marlene stood her full height of 4’9 and rounded the corner as she bested Barret’s interrogating voice as much as possible, “Which one of you fools go off and start bustin’ up this place!?”
Her smirk didn’t waiver a bit, and she proudly stood her ground as the remaining members of the bar turned to look at the small girl attempting to pose herself as a threat. Yes, she was doing quite well,… that was until her eyes ventured over to the silver haired man’s.
Choking back a gasp, Marlene took a measured step back. No… this isn’t right. He was suppose to be dead! She was told he was dead! Cloud killed him! He said so! Her deposition she worked so hard at to sustain quickly came crumbling down leaving her true form exposed for all to see; a frightened child faced with a living nightmare….
“Cloud..” her voice quivered in fear, her eyes widened and never leaving Yazoo’s
“…you’re dead! You’re suppose to be dead! He said so! He said so!!” her small fist tightened as her voice screamed out into the open room with fierce integrity. Fear absorbing into hate…hate into respite. Regardless of the rollercoaster of emotions she felt, she couldn’t hold back her tears any longer.
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Post by michimoro on Sept 15, 2010 21:28:34 GMT -5
((OOC: That's cool. I'm not a fighter character either. Just a crippled old man! I prefer story-based role-playing. Excessive fighting isn't my thing.))
Gram was about to accept Kuro’s offer, when a little girls shouted words derailed his thoughts. He turned to see a minor standing within the bar—when she had arrived, he did not know. She looked to be a preteen, a very scared preteen. Directing his own gaze toward the cause of her fear, Gram’s brows furrowed with curiosity. Standing before them was a silver-haired man who held a striking resemblance the prized creation of Gram’s old professor—a man who looked just like a young Sephiroth.
But it couldn’t be Sephiroth, himself…
Wasn’t the solder long since dead?
Perhaps it was a mimetic copy spawned from a piece of JENOVA…
No… Not quite that… The surviving JONOVA Fragments were supposed to be quarantined; at least, that was what he heard from his contact within the WRO. They were to be gathered and sealed away, so as to avoid the fruition of Professor Hojo’s Reunion Theory.
No…
This would not be some form of mimetic copy; not unless… Gram’s lips drew into a thin line at the implications of his line of thought, and he stared at the silver haired man warily. With cautious—albeit limped— steps, Gram positioned himself between the frightened girl and the silver-haired man. Directing a brief glance over his shoulder, he addressed the girl, “This man that frightens you so… Who is he?”
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Post by Marlene Wallace on Sept 16, 2010 6:28:01 GMT -5
[[ Ah, good. Thank God I'm not the only one in here that's handicap when it comes to brawling. Anywho, I was at a loss of what to put next so this is way out of left field for me. But I tried to stay in character, and Marlene seems like she'd be a handful if backed into a corner so that's pretty much how this next bit came to me. Pretty much an unruly child]]
Her breathing became irregular at that moment as tears threatened her clear vision. Blinking rapidly, she pushed her frame as far away from the stranger that approached. Even though he seemed to harbor no ill will towards her, Marlene trusted no one.
“…he…he’s one of them” she managed to choke out between sobs. Flashes of her past, not three years prior to this incident, played fresh in her mind.
…men… ….three of them… ..they took her away… …poisoned Denzel…
“no…” she mumbled aloud as to suppress the horrific events from her thoughts. Why is this monster still alive!? Cloud promised her it would be safe…
Directing her attention back to the lithe silver locked man, Marlene’s temper started to get the better of her judgment, “..you-you’re not suppose to be here! Go back to the life stream! Go back!” pulling herself out from behind the older man that seemed to have been an ally, but as far as she knew, it was a ploy. Quickly, Marlene reached out towards the open faced cupboards behind the bar’s surface and snatched anything and everything her frantic fingers could find.
Much like a snowball effect, various items began to fly out at all angles. Ketchup packets, napkins, foam to-go cups and boxes; they were all used in her assault against the man standing opposite side of the bars surface. Sure, it wasn’t a well thought out plan, and her aim was less than desirable. But given the circumstance, Marlene felt it was best to defend herself, and to defend the bar.
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Post by darkreaper666 on Sept 16, 2010 13:23:20 GMT -5
Elstan saw Marlene and disarmed Yazoo. "MARLENE GET OUT OF HERE!" she shouted. Elstan drew her blade. She pointed her weapon at Yazoo. Her eyes full of Sephiroth's coldness. "You went too far in poisoning Denzel so you will not have anything off me." she said. She sighed as she stabbed Yazoo in the shoulder.
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Post by fricco on Sept 16, 2010 16:15:26 GMT -5
((OOC: As for me... I'm a lover, not a fighter.))
Pushing himself away from the wall, Fricco ambled toward Kuro—all the while eyeing the commotion happing within the bar. He wasn’t sure what started the fighting, and he didn’t care to find out. Since the people within this room had nothing to do with him, he had little interest in their fight.
Kuro, however…
An amused smile pulled at his lips as he came to stand at her side. After touching his hand to her elbow to get her attention, he brushed his lips against the shell of her ear and whispered in a manner that bordered between sultry and creepy.
“My dear, dear Kuro…" He drawled, before leaning back and sliding a pale-blue eye toward those fighting across the room. “Why are you even bothering with those fools? They’re not paying any attention to your… interference. Might as well call it quits, sweetheart, you cannot reason with their ilk."
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