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Post by Admin on Jan 27, 2008 15:49:12 GMT -6
Continued From: rpgqod.proboards38.com/index.cgi?board=barracks&action=display&thread=1195148214&page=1The recruits stand still and unmoving. The gates slowly close far above the arena floor with an ominous sound. The hot night makes the recruits glisten with sweat and the red sky fades to black. The darkness spreads throughout the arena. Only those with heightened sinces, sonar or night sight can see in the thick darkness. The hardened soldiers await un-phased in silence for what is to happen next.
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Post by Ciel on Jan 29, 2008 13:26:57 GMT -6
Ciel turned to Lysandor as they walked. "Master Lysandor, I am very impressed with your skill. And I thank you for allowing me to help."
She looked around to make sure that no one was around or looking and stopped him. "And here is my thanks." She placed a soft kiss square on his lips and stepped back, waiting for him to react.
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Post by Lysandor on Feb 1, 2008 12:37:37 GMT -6
"You are most-" Lysandor stops in mid-sentence as Ciel's lips touch his. He looks completely shocked, though obviously not displeased, and seems to be at a loss as to what to say or do. A faint blush begins to color his cheeks. Then, as if a switch has been hit, he can move and speak again. "You are . . . ah, most welcome, Lady . . . Lady Ciel. I, um, I am pleased you . . ."
Lysandor quits talking, unable to form words or even find what it was he would have said in reply to Ciel. The unexpected, though definitely not unwelcome, kiss has robbed him of all of his stoic composure.
He takes Ciel's hand in his and gently kisses it, the only thing he can think of to do that wouldn't competely embarrass him or turn him into a babbling pile of Fallen mush.
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Post by Ciel on Feb 1, 2008 22:59:23 GMT -6
Ciel smiled as Lysandor kissed her hand in reply to her thank-you kiss. "And you are welcome as well Master Elite. Shall we go? Unless , of course, there is something you wish to say to me before we go back to the cadets?"
She let him keep her hand and stayed standing there, waiting for him to respond, watching the blush warm his cheeks and kept her smile. It was the least that she could do for him. He had allowed her to play and help all at the same time. She felt like she owed him something, and a kiss was all she had to pay with. If he kept on helping her, she'd continue her payments on time.
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Post by Lysandor on Feb 3, 2008 16:41:53 GMT -6
Lysandor is still trying to regain his composure, and still failing quite spectacularly. Part of him wants to draw the Devilcat into a kiss that would tell her everything he can't find the words to say, but something stops him. The same something that generally keeps him in his Lucid states.
So, instead, Lysandor gives her hand another kiss.
"You have the natural beauty and seductive talents to take whatever you want from whomever you wish, and still they would feel as though they have wronged you," he tells her softly, giving her fingers a squeeze before releasing her hand. "That you refrain from doing that, and take the harder path, makes you a flower among the thorns. It is not your beauty that wins the love and respect of those you come across, but your strong heart, your fierce will, and your sharp mind." Lysandor pauses, the blush still burning on his face, though beginning to fade. "You have so much more to offer than what you have been led to believe."
Lysandor steps away from Ciel to keep himself from following his first impulse. He peers out into the darkness where he knows the cadets are waiting their orders.
"I think we have lingered long enough," he tells her, a slight, faint smile on his face. "It would not do to allow the cadets to get too used to the dark."
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Post by Ciel on Feb 3, 2008 18:38:38 GMT -6
Ciel smiled and watched as he struggled with himself. She had been in that position before and she thought it was a good position for the Fallen to be in. She had said it once and she would say it for eternity. No one can be stoic all of the time. It's just not possible.
She was waiting to see how far he would fall before he kissed her hand a second time. When he lavished her with praises, she found her own face blushing. He continued and as he released her hand, she brought it behind her back, she couldn't help but rub the hand he held with her other and treasure the warmth that was left from his hand.
She looked down a little and twirled slowly on her toes. "I have never known that I held that much power. I have always regarded myself as I was seen by my...owners and benefactors. The fact that you say such beautiful things to me proves that I do not know my own worth, because of the mere fact that upon thinking about it, I do not agree with such words...I have never seen myself as anything but less. Am I really as you say?"
She shakes her head and sadly smiles. " Yes, I suppose we have tarried a bit long." She turns to walk to where the cadets are. "I apologize for holding you back from them Master Elite. I did not mean to distract you..."
She hung her head as she walked back to where they were needed.
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Post by Narrator on Feb 4, 2008 18:23:22 GMT -6
The recruits wait impatiently but silently in the dark. They await Master Lysandor and are beginning to think they were forgotten. The fallen female begin to fidget and the Elf even begins to whistle as the dark is very quiet and serene.
She is still stinging form Nyxereos cold shooting her down and she is itching to tell him off. But her discipline keeps her silent, she will prove she is worthy and the silvery second will be eating a large helping of crow very shortly. She smiles to herself in the dark.
The silent Nightmare is reached his end of patience as he hates waiting. "Hurry up and Wait... *Humph* He snorts as his mane and tail burst into flame sending orange light out into the stilled darkness. Making the others squint from the new light in their eyes.
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Post by Lysandor on Feb 4, 2008 21:18:50 GMT -6
Lysandor brushes her arm with his fingertips as she walks to the cadets. "Much more can be said about you, and to you, but this is not the place or the time." He walks up to keep in step with her, his expression and tone slipping back into his usual persona. "There is nothing you need to apologize for, Lady Ciel. The . . . distraction was welcome."
The Fallen squints his eyes at the Nightmare's flaring of mane and tail, but doesn't close them against it. He becomes accostomed to the brighter light quickly, and stops in front of the cadets.
"Waiting is something you will need to get used to," Lysandor tells the Nightmare firmly. "There will be times when you become an Elite when you will be forced to wait." He looks at the Nightmare square in th eye. "Tell me, when you were waiting, what did you see or sense out in the darkness? Did you discover anything hiding in the shadows, any change in the typical arrangements in the coliseum?"
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Regent
Bourgeois
The Regent of Darkness
Posts: 246
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Post by Regent on Feb 5, 2008 13:06:26 GMT -6
Regent watches from the high seats in the arena. He is curious to what Lysandor is going to teach next. His thoughts become fixed upon Nyxereos and he contemplates the fallen and his current situation. To Regent it becomes clear to what must be done, to others it may seem cruel or even brutal by Hell's standards. Nun the less vital to making him become more, so therefore he must be completely broken then allowed to heal his mind where he can no longer see himself as the enemy.
Regent listens more then teleports to the grand doors.
His appearance drastically different now. He has taken on the form of a common demonic soldier. A winged but gnarly looking red devil. Not remarkable in any way save the old armor he sports and the eye patch to look the part. He masks his energy from detection and creates yet another order for admittance into the elite for himself.
He has a moment to think of a new alias... and after a chuckle contemplating the order for "Nunyeh Biz'nez" or "Whaza Mattahoney" to enter the ranks of the trial elite. He pops a quirky smile as he nods and begins the trek down the steps to Lysandor.
The red devil is very deep red complection with hard scaly skin and large black horns running a tight ridge down the length of his forehead to the back of his elongated skull. He bows his 5'10 stalky frame before The Elite when he reaches the gritty battle floor.
Hands to Lysandor the order for entry and begins to ramble off why he was late to order. "Beggin' Yer pardon' Master..." He says with a thick Gaelic droll. "Me Commander... kept fergettin' teday, was me day to be tryin' oot fer the ranks 'O' the meighteh elite guard. Had me flyin' me tail off all the way here from Me post the ootlands at sper 'o' the notice... Beggin' fer yer grand mercy Master, for naught as it were for the 'Val-Horn' bein' a we bit late." He says holding his fingers close and up to his eye as it is piercingly peeking through the narrow gap between his black claws to demonstrate the small amount of time.
The invitation reads: Acceptance to the Elite for -Sargent Kane Val-Horn-, Approved by Commander Gress, Northern Legion.
He stands again, his leathery wings tucked tightly. He is watching Lysandor closely with his very broad and wise face looking frantically at him with his one silted, yellow eye. A single eye that nearly glows from how bright yellow it is, beaming out despite its being nestled beneath his heavy barbed eyebrows, entrenched in the deep wrinkles of his dark red skin.
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Post by Ciel on Feb 5, 2008 19:52:49 GMT -6
Ciel looked up as she walked and smiled the slightest bit at him before they reached the cadets. She then turned straight back to her usual as well. Aloof.
She could not stop thinking about what Lysandor had said. "Much more can be said about you, and to you, but this is not the place or the time." "There is nothing you need to apologize for, Lady Ciel. The . . . distraction was welcome."
She was thinking while walking beside him. Did he really mean those things? Did he perhaps think that she would be easily swayed? Did he want her in such a way as to say such things? If he was just playing games with her, was he the sort to play such things?
Her questions were roiling around in her head as they watched the "new" recruit come to them. She looked at him with concern and hid it. If she had been anywhere else with Lysandor, staring it down, she'd have grabbed onto his arm and squealed. As it stood, she made the barest move to stand closer to Lysandor and kept an eye on the new demon.
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Post by Lysandor on Feb 6, 2008 12:46:45 GMT -6
Lysandor watches as the Devil walks to them, frowning almost imperceptively. He reads the order, listening to the Devil explain why he was late. Sterling silver eyes look the Devil over, much as they had done with the other cadets during the trials.
"I was only informed of six cadets to be sent, not seven," he says to the Devil. He motions him to join in rank with the other cadets. "I will speak with Commander Gress about his forgetfulness, but for the time being, you may join us."
Lysandor turns back to the Nightmare, but he still kept an eye on the Devil. "Perhaps instead of taking the opportunity to observe your surroundings for enemies or changes you allowed yourself to assume that because you have been to the coliseum so many times in the past, nothing in its basic structure has change. That because it is the Battle Coliseum of Hell, no enemies might be waiting in the shadows to try and cripple the Elite when they let down their guard."
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Post by Ciel on Feb 7, 2008 10:32:44 GMT -6
Ciel's mind was rolling with all of that knowledge as Lysandor fusses with the huge demon. She watched his eyes and almost smiled as he told the demon he was temporarily granted entrance.
And as he scolds the Nightmare, she continues to smile and it gets harder. She inches a bit more close to Lysandor and put a hand on his elbow very slightly. She curled a lip and sniffed the air, sighing. "Do you not smell anything off, Nightmare?"
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Regent
Bourgeois
The Regent of Darkness
Posts: 246
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Post by Regent on Feb 7, 2008 15:34:26 GMT -6
Regent smirks a bit to Lysandor as he plays his role. His voice as cragly and rough as his appearance. "Aye Sir, At yeer command." He grunts as he takes his place beside Nyxereos and begins to remove his armor.
He appears quite shameless as he disrobes to his undergarments. His scaly skin showing the many marks of battle and his muscular form ripples as a true soldier of hell, battle hardened, tried and true. He stands there looking pleased with himself till he notices the other recruits wearing the tunics. "Sey now, where can a devilishly 'annsome bloke like meself land one 'o' 'em snazy getups? He whispers loudly with a look of envy to the others in his one eye.
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Post by Narrator on Feb 7, 2008 15:58:16 GMT -6
The nightmare stands tall as his large nostrils flare with a deep breath. He snorts again. He neighs loudly as he samples the air. He tussles his mane and snorts out his response. "New Mortar... fresh sand. Renovations to the traps... again... and... something else I cannot identify... yet." He blows again as he stomps a flaming hoof into the floor.
The female fallen's eyes narrow, as she scans into the distance, the elf looks cocky again but says nothing at fear of reprisal. But the Devilcat looks nervous, like he senses something... Falling...
"CLEAR OUT!" He roars as huge blocks begin to strike the floor where the recruits now stand. He dives out of the way and the fallen female is right behind him. The Nightmare transforms into his animal form and bolts away into the other side of the arena and the wily Elf flitters out from under the blocks almost like he is toying with them trying to get hit.
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Nyxereos
Bourgeois
The Dark Earth
Posts: 102
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Post by Nyxereos on Feb 7, 2008 16:10:28 GMT -6
Nyxereos glances up as if he could not be bothered to see the blocks tumbling toward him fast and hard. He simply crosses his arms and closes his eyes.
"Let them come." he says completely uninterestedly. The block looks like it will slam into his head and make him a dwarf in a split second. Instead the block passes right through him and strikes the floor sending dirt into the air harmlessly behind him. He opens his eyes and sighs as he stands silently.
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Regent
Bourgeois
The Regent of Darkness
Posts: 246
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Post by Regent on Feb 7, 2008 16:29:36 GMT -6
Regent looks up to see the death rain from above. "Blimy, catapults sendn' the very rocks ta wipe us oot..." He twists just in time as the stone slips by him and skins his left wing as it races by and slams into the floor beside him.
"Oy, that was a trixy bit of sneaky!" He says looking wide eyed to Lysandor. ... I want what this fella has goin' fer 'emself." As he points a claw to Nyxereos. "Dinne flinch er nothin' when that monster stone came whistlin' streight fer 'is shineh noggin' there... Whoosh, Right through 'em... dinne even muss a hair er nothin'. He says with a gravely chuckle. "Coulda' saved me a scrape 'er two. He says looking and clutching at the raspberry burn on his wing. He mutters to himself, "Oy, that really smarts a wea bit."
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Post by Lysandor on Feb 7, 2008 17:15:28 GMT -6
Lysandor grabs Ciel as he darts safely out of range of the catapults. He watches the cadets as all but Nyxereos and the Dark Elf scamper to safety, a faint smirk on his face. Their various tactics work, for now.
"This is where their training will begin in earnest," Lysandor says to Ciel, slowly releasing her. He raises a hand and the attack ceases for the moment. The Fallen Elite looks around the coliseum as the dust settles, then looks to the Devil cadet. "Elite must be aware of their environment at all times to guard against attack. Take your injury as a reminder to do better in the future."
Lysandor looks around at the scattered cadets. "Regroup ten feet from where you started. Let's see how well the rest of you faired."
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Post by Narrator on Feb 7, 2008 17:32:34 GMT -6
The recruits regather as ordered. They look to each other in disbelief. They all look alright, be it a bit more dirty than before from the floor exploding into the air. The Devil Cat Pe'ri looking disheveled and a bit bloody from the dive to the dirt and the fallen landing on him. He looks alright but he fights the desire of wanting to groom himself. The fallen looking miffed as her neat braid is now frayed and falling loose. The nightmare whinnies and reforms to his half form, frazzled and spooked but unharmed. The elf laughs, "Aw, man! Can we do that again?
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Post by Ciel on Feb 7, 2008 23:16:51 GMT -6
Ciel helped Lysandor to move her out of the way when the rocks came down. She watched the recruits as they all did what they were going to do and she hugged close to Lysandor. "They seem to fail much more often than they triumph...is that normal?"
When he let her free, she kept her hand right where she put it earlier. Well out of sight of everyone, on his elbow. She would admit that she was shaken. What she would not do, is admit it to everyone.
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Nyxereos
Bourgeois
The Dark Earth
Posts: 102
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Post by Nyxereos on Feb 8, 2008 12:54:57 GMT -6
The tarnished silver of Nyxereos' skin shimmers softly in the flame light of the Nightmare as he advances to the new spot before Lysandor. The look on his face shifts from boredom to contempt as the others gather around him. "Pathetic and mindless as frightened children... Screaming into the darkness merely allows your enemy to locate you even in the dark...
He seethes as his eyes again are steely with his anger, "When was the realization to enter your thick numb skull that you have blindly gave away our position when you foolishly illuminate us for our foes to kill us all with ease... You may as well have painted a target on us all as we were nothing more than lame lambs before the slobbering wolves." He sneers and clenches his fists clearly wanting to rip out the nightmare's throat.
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