Nyxereos
Bourgeois
The Dark Earth
Posts: 102
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Post by Nyxereos on Nov 24, 2007 18:16:23 GMT -6
Nyxereos stands like a gladiator with his prey lifted high off the ground and he squeezes the consciousness from his opponent. Just before the Incubus passes out Lysandor's flying tackle surprises Nyxereos. The Incubus topples end over end to the ground as Lysandor barrels into Nyxereos shoulder knocking loose his grip on the recruit.
Nyxereos looks to Lysandor as they fall with a look of confusion and disbelief. As they hit the deck, Nyxereos instinctively protects Lysandor in his large black wing the wraps about him like the petals of a Venus flytrap. The resulting blow sends them both sprawling to the ground in a heap.
Nyxereos looks up through his stringy white hair and sees the other recruits gaining fast. He barks out to Lysandor, "You have cost us the initiave... but all is not lost..."
When the recruits are about to unleash their fury upon the two fallen, Lysandor and Nyxereos sink into the earth and disappear.
Nyxereos twists his body and like gliding through muddy water he flings Lysandor out of his wing and back above ground. To everyones astonishment Lysandor pops out of the ground to land on his feet clear across the arena opposite the baffled recruits.
Nyxereos floats up again slowly like riding a elevator out of the soil beside a visibly surprised Lysandor. This time Nyxereos is armed with a stone staff that forms in his hands from the living earth he appears from. He stands silent as his pain returns and his black orbs turn to look slightly miffed at Lysandor.
"I can not break your orders sir, nor kill my masters servants. The great master has forbade it." Nyxereos then turns his attentions to the puzzled recruits on the other side of the field. "It would suit our cause best for us all to keep that in mind... Master Lysandor."
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Post by Ciel on Nov 24, 2007 19:08:20 GMT -6
Ciel had been dancing as she watched and she now danced even harder , flinging herself in the line of sight of the remaining recruits. She turned her seductive gifts up to the half mark and she could feel their gaze pulling them away from the bum rush they were doing to Lysandor and Nxyereos.
She made to lure them away from the fight and she saw it would take a bit more from her so she kicked up her power a notch or two. She watched all the earth swimming with the Elite and his new Fallen and smirked. Nxyereos might be alot of things, but subtle he as not.
She watched him stand tall to watch the recruits run towards him, but she kept pulling them to her, seducing them with her movements as they ran. She did not know if he felt her but she did not care right at that moment. She was helping Lysandor teach them, whether the new Fallen liked it or not.
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Post by Lysandor on Nov 25, 2007 12:54:55 GMT -6
Lysandor is surprised when Nyxereos's wings envelope him protectively. Just as he starts to reply to Nyxereos's comment, however, they sink in the earth . . . and Lysandor feels vague panic at the earth all around him, but he fights it aside quickly. As Lysandor pops out of the ground, he tries to hide his surprise at the mode of transport, and how quickly they made it to the other side of the arena.
He turns to Nyxereos, his customary non-expression back on his face, save for a slight frown. "I wasn't aware of your orders, only mine, so forgive me for assuming you would kill my recruits." He turns back to said recruits as they realize that their opponents are behind them. "It has happened before . . ."
Lysandor grabs two short swords from the weapons rack, holding one in a position of defense, like a bladed shield, and the other offensively. He smirks as Ciel's dance captures more and more of the recruits' attention.
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Nyxereos
Bourgeois
The Dark Earth
Posts: 102
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Post by Nyxereos on Nov 25, 2007 13:21:46 GMT -6
Nyxereos simply nods slightly to Lysandor. He can see in Lysandor's eyes that trust is not extended toward Nyxereos. After all he was their enemy a short time ago, and that deep rooted mistrust may never go away.
"Your judgment was sound. Only your sentimentality is wasted on me. You know full well I would have crushed him... had I not been bound."
At that he furrows his brow, spreads his wings and twirls his staff ready for the fight to come.
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Post by Narrator on Nov 25, 2007 13:46:26 GMT -6
With Ciel's sexy distractions and the mind boggling escape of the Elite and his fallen Houdini, the Recruits are confused and disoriented. The waiting Elite take up the sprawled out Kisune and the gasping Incubus and drag him off to the side with the unlucky Gabriel Rachet they call for medical treatment and ship him off to the infirmary. The fallen recruit screams from above but no one can remove him and he must remain till Nyxereos or the High Chancellor can free him from his stone prison.
All this surmounts in the remaining two recruits and they turn to see their foes clear across the courtyard. The crowd cheers Lysandor as he pops up unexpectedly like a phantom from the earth. The recruits take a moment and return to battle stances. Unsure and shaky they become increasingly distracted by Ciel, the crowd and at the two fallen across the battle field.
They discuss in whispers of strategy and tactic but neither advances nor looks confident anymore. Instead they choose defensive measures. Not at all a bad strategy for the untried recruits, however their resolve will be put to the test... and then some.
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Post by Ciel on Nov 27, 2007 18:48:17 GMT -6
Ciel continues to dance and move. She turned her seduction power up a good bit and danced. She danced to enthrall, she danced to entrance, she danced to make them trip up. She makes herself irresistible to the two remaining recruits. She uses her power to make them turn their heads to her. Make it so that they see only her. Make herself almost a siren in that the fact of the matter is that as soon as they're turned from Lysandor and the new Fallen, she knew that they were toast. She turned the recruits heads. She kept eye contact , knowing full well that they were hers. She laughed, throwing her head back and dancing as they moved towards her like zombies.
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Post by Lysandor on Nov 27, 2007 22:55:38 GMT -6
Lysandor nods his head once at Nyxereos. "Then from now on let's speak plainly to each other."
He smirks as the recruits become more enthralled with Ciel's seductive dance. He doesn't drop his guard, though, and avoids looking directly at her. Lysandor doubts that he would be as entranced as his recruits, but he doesn't want to risk becoming distracted.
He makes his way to the two remaining recruits.
"Let's just finish this," he says to Nyxereos. "I can test them again when I have their full attention." He watches the recruits walk to Ciel like dreamers. "I have learned all I can about the newest members of the Elite from this fight."
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Nyxereos
Bourgeois
The Dark Earth
Posts: 102
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Post by Nyxereos on Nov 28, 2007 10:32:17 GMT -6
Nyxereos eyes turn to the new recruits. He nods to Lysandor's words in whole agreement. "Do lets." he says coldly as he spins his staff so quickly the stone weapon whistles as it spins through the air. It hums softly for a moment when he brings it to a dead stop. Nyxereos steps into a fighters stance and darts off in a swift advance on the stupefied recruits.
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Post by Narrator on Dec 3, 2007 14:29:58 GMT -6
Wide open is the best way to describe the new recruits as they can't help be be drawn over to Ciel. They smack their lips like children eating too much candy. They lower their guard and show no sign of resistance to Lysandor nor Nyxereos, a potentially fatal mistake as the Elite and new fallen swiftly advance to make short work of these two.
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Post by Lysandor on Dec 4, 2007 19:33:43 GMT -6
Lysandor makes for the Pe'ri, using the hilt of his defensive sword to knock him to his knees. He grabs the recruit's arms and twists them into an uncomfortable hold so that he is nearly bending backwards. Lysandor uses his free hand to press the blade of his short sword against the throat of the recruit until a thin line of blood wells up from the pressure. The recruit quickly finds out that trying to fight his way out of the hold is not only futile, but painful.
His opponent subdued, Lysandor looks up to see how Nyxereos has handled his opponent.
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Nyxereos
Bourgeois
The Dark Earth
Posts: 102
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Post by Nyxereos on Dec 5, 2007 10:50:25 GMT -6
The twisted smirk on Nyxereos silver face widens as he swooshes past the recruit. His stone staff makes a stinging welt on the devils hamstrings as he sweeps the unsuspecting devil off his feet and sends him sprawling and screaming in the air. Before the Devil slams into the dirt Nyxereos grabs his ankle and holds him in his vice like grip above the ground flailing helplessly.
Nyxereos pokes and prods him with his staff, "What an ugly catch, so scrawny and too small to keep. Shall I throw it back Master Lysandor? He says cold and distantly his black eyes intent on the devil dangling from his outstretched clutches. His wings flap triumphantly as Nyxereos stands silent continuing his prodding the helpless devil.
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Post by Ciel on Dec 7, 2007 12:51:20 GMT -6
Ciel smiled and stopped dancing. She had done her job,
She flashed a smile at Nxyereos and Lysandor, finishing with a great flourish and blowing a kiss at them both."Thank you for allowing me to help you with the recruits. Do you require anything else from me?"
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Post by Lysandor on Dec 8, 2007 11:06:41 GMT -6
Lysandor smiles faintly. "We'll toss him back with the other recruits. Perhaps after some training, the next time you catch him, he won't be so small a fish."
With that, Lysandor releases his own "small catch" roughly, sending the Devil Pe'ri crumbling to the ground. Aside from a small cut on his throat and numb arms, the recruit was unharmed. He walks to Ciel and bows his head.
"Thank you for your help," he replies to her. "I believe they have learned a valuable lesson, and perhaps will be on their guard when any lovely women - especially you - should grace us with their presence." He nods to her. "You may leave, if you wish, Lady Ciel."
Lysandor turns back to the recruits, his good humor seemingly vanished. "This fight was but a glimpse of what you can hope to be as an Elite, and also of just how far you have to go before you can even claim to be the least among our ranks. Tonight is your last night as free demons." Lysandor turns back to Nyxereos. "Would you free my Fallen recruit? His screams are beginning to get on my nerves." He pauses, thinking. "We still have much to do, you and I. I would like to see what you are capable of, and the fight hardly challenged you."
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Nyxereos
Bourgeois
The Dark Earth
Posts: 102
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Post by Nyxereos on Dec 8, 2007 13:56:31 GMT -6
Without batting an eyelash the devil is flung to the feet of the line of recruits like a trash bag on a refuse pile, landing hard on his shoulders upside down in an undignified heap. In the same turn Nyxereos streaks into the sky with a mighty swoop of his black wings and stops before the fallen in the wall. He looks at the screaming fallen while he flaps his wings slowly to hover in mid air.
"Say uncle..." he whispers taunting the fallen who continues glaring at him cursing and screaming.
Nyxereos lifts his hand and the wall begins to swallow the recruit deeper and the great pressures of the stone begin to crack his bones.
"Say uncle, I won't say it again." Nyxereos threatens with an evil stare as the recruit's pain threshold reaches max tolerance and he caves quickly. "Uncle... UNCLE!" he screams.
"Thats better..." Nyxereos simply motions in a pulling gesture with his hand and the stone releases the fallen like hot potato. Quickly he falls, but just before he slams into the ground he is able to correct his flight path to land very clumsily before Lysandor.
Nyxereos glides down and lands softly beside the recruit looking very unamused and without warning Nyxereos shoves the fallen down and he sprawls out face first before Lysandor.
"Give thanks to your master for his restraint that this battle was not life or death." Nyxereos growls as his pain returns to him and he folds his arms before him broodingly.
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Post by Ciel on Dec 11, 2007 0:29:09 GMT -6
Ciel nodded happily and dropped into a curtsey before Lysandor. "I thank you for allowing me the honor." She got a wicked glint in her eye as she seemed to be in thought for a bit. "Master Lysandor, is there any way that you could be persuaded to allow me to watch more of these trials? I am rather interested to see exactly how Elite are made."
She was standing with her hands clasped serenely behind her back, waiting for her answer.
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Post by Lysandor on Dec 11, 2007 18:47:30 GMT -6
Lysandor watches as Nyxereos torments the Fallen, his expression blank. When the Fallen lands and is pushed face first in the dirt, he looks up at Nyxereos for a few heartbeats.
"Was that really necessary?" he asks flatly. He motions to the Elites standing by to gather the Fallen. As the Fallen is taken away, he studies Nyxereos. "I see I'll have to pit you against stronger and more skilled opponents in the future. You have a problem holding back."
He turns to Ciel, looking almost surprised by her request. "You can stay, if you wish, Lady Ciel." Lysandor directs his gaze back to the training ground, watching the trials. "The most grueling part of the trials is over, which was to find out just which of the hopeful soldiers has what it takes to join our ranks. What you see at the moment is the sorting of the recruits into different training groups according to skill and ability, as well as their preferences in fighting. Before the night is over, more will fail the trials and be sent home. Before their training is over, their numbers will be halved." He looks at Ciel and Nyxereos from the corner of his eye. "The training regime is as harsh and unforgiving as the wilds of Hell itself. The unworthy are cast out, and if they refuse to give up, they are torn down to the very base of their existence and remade into Elite."
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Post by Narrator on Dec 13, 2007 13:31:01 GMT -6
The line of recruits continues to get smaller and smaller very quickly. most who have come are easily rejected but some are harder to determine if they are worthy or just very lucky. By the time Lysandor has made his rounds the Elite have their trainees in squads and after the recruits have been assigned to an Elite they are far fewer in number. The remaining are assigned a color for their group and the next bouts of eliminations are to come. Grungy tunics are issued and the antsy recruits put them on. Soon the whole courtyard looks like a terrible circus.
Nyxereos must also put on one and remove his armor. The elite watch him and laugh as he becomes belligerent removing his armor and he throws on the yellow tunic over his silvery skin. The tunic reaks of past recruits sweat and blood. He watches in dismay as his armor is tacked away to the armory for later.
Nyxereos gets assigned to Lysandor as one of the preliminary recruits that have been hand selected for The Elite, no elimination trials for them just the meat and potatoes of becoming an elite from here on out.
5 trainees are with Lysandor. Four of the toughest looking bunch the army has produced, nominated by the top commanders and Nyxereos whom has been personally selected by the Regent himself. All wearing the silly yellow tunics and feeling quite miffed for the humiliation. The recruits are a female fallen, a tall and muscular male Nightmare, a male Pe'ri Devil Cat with black fur and dark gray wings, and a very deviously, crafty dark elf with silted eyes and dragonfly wings. They lounge about awaiting their first orders.
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Post by Ciel on Dec 13, 2007 21:35:06 GMT -6
Her eyes light up as she nods. "Yes Master Lysandor, I should very much like to see their training."
She watched as all of the recruits were separated like odd fruit and given to their Elites. She stood near the back of Lysandor's group and smiled to see a DevilCat among them. She sauntered up to Nyxereos and reached up to caress his face.
"You have made it. You should be proud, youngling."
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Nyxereos
Bourgeois
The Dark Earth
Posts: 102
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Post by Nyxereos on Dec 15, 2007 10:58:00 GMT -6
His skin is very smooth and cold to the touch as Ciel caresses his face. As her delicate fingers trace his features, her touch grazes the dark print on his cheek of Regent's brand. This scar is hot to the touch vs. the rest of his silvery skin being so cold.
His eyes are the glossy silver once again and he stands slumped lost in thought. His eyes are looking at Ciel but he is not gazing on Ciel. His pain has overcome him again and his wings droop low to show that he feels the same empty nothing as before. His brilliant white hair tumbles over his shoulders in a tangled heap and that makes him look very comical and yet very tragic in the yellow tunic. He turns away from Ciel as he can't understand her enthusiasm for his apparent though unwanted accomplishment.
"Waste not your words of praise for me, I must do as I am bid, pull my strings do my feet not dance? Let go the trusses do I not wither like a lifeless puppet? I am but the off hand of my master and I can do nothing save what orders I have been bade to do. My will is my own no more, only my master's will remains."
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Post by Lysandor on Dec 15, 2007 12:23:54 GMT -6
"Will did not win you the fight, but your own skill," Lysandor tells Nyxereos, frowning slightly. He turns to his new recruits, hand-picked for the ranks of Elite. He tries not to look amused at their annoyance at the yellow tunics, and remembers his own time in an ugly, silly tunic.
His expression becomes severe, and if any amusement had leaked through it is as though it never existed.
"Stand up straight," Lysandor snaps at the assorted bunch of demons. "If you are to become Elite, act like Elite, for you are now representing us." He watches their reactions and expressions to find out which would try and give him problems, if any. "Your rank and position before mean nothing now. Until you complete your training, you will remain cadets. Are there any questions?"
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