Darkest Heart: The Were Wars

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IC: "The question is, what does he have planned?"
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"The conversion of this planet into a gateway from Hell to the mortal plane."
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IC:
I wince slightly, a ripple of dark energy coming from within Avenger;
"That's... not good."
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IC: "Well.....that is definitely not good, what can we do?"
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"Tear him a new one and send him running away? Killing such a being would be difficult and would require a rather large amount of energy, or a very sophisticated and obvious trap." Noct suggests, his eyes tracing to the ceiling.

"Well," Solaris speaks up, slowly at first; "Perhaps we could reinforce your wards, Helsing? If brother and I cooperated, we could give our next unholy visitor a wonderful surprise when his energies react and explode in on themselves!" He half asks, half states.
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I frown at the pair, beckoning everyone inside, the weres included. "And watch the pair of you turned into a crisp from messing with an Archangel's wards? I'd rather not."
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Noct grins at the implied bit of violence as he follows the hunter into his mansion, taking the statement as a bit of a challenge. "Meddling with things that shouldn't be messed with is a specialty of us Eldromancers! Besides, I'm not scared of a bit of fire! When's the last time you got crisped, Solaris?" He asks his partner, a grin plastered on his face.

The blond haired doppleganger chuckles darkly, his eyes alight with many memories. "Firestorm bombs, remember? A month ago?"

After a single moment of silence, the pair snap their fingers at each other simultaneously and spoke up in near perfect unison; "Toroesia!" The pair say, both laughing aloud and together over what could only be called an unspoken joke. After a moment of rancorous laughter, Solaris to wipe the tears out of his eyes and speaks up as if only the estranged pair were in the room; "I still can't believe those crazy women dragged a satellite out of orbit and dropped it on you! I could understand an air squadron, or possibly a tank or two, but a stun satellite? After nailing you with it?"

"Hey! At least I returned it to them! In pieces, mind you, but I did return it!" Noct says, his hands on his hips with a stance and face full of pride.
Edited by morrjo on 10/8/2013 3:02 PM PDT
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Cartharn stays silent, not following whatever is being spoken, although he stays behind the group.
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*sigh* I hate to do this again, but I think I'm going to have to declare this thread dead once more. However, I've recently done a Flashpoint on SWTOR that inspired a survival RP for me. Give me a few days and I'll submit the rough draft for public review.
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Survival RP? You have piqued my interest, Ser Zarkun.
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It should be interesting. You're either a survivor on the planet, or a rescue team sent in. Unfortunately, I'll have to set a specific number for the rescue team.
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Well, the RP went a bit too slow.....oh wellz.
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Well, if we all concur that the RP is dead...

I'll write up the obituary.
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I'd regret it, but I'm willing to let it go.
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*sighs*

Oh well. I'm a little too busy with senior year to protest. Adios, DH.
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And i doubt this is coming back. Fun while it lasted....2x. But as Warhawk said, goodbye DH
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Well, I guess I shall have to wait for the Darkest Heart 3.0 to use Altun again. And the Which Hunter... And the blatantly copped Thom.

Speaking of Thom....

---Elsewhere---

An elderly man sat in a chair surrounded by about two dozen children of ages four to ten. His cloths were nothing to be remarked upon, simpler traveler's greens and browns. That is, save for his cloak.

The cloak was covered in a multitude of colors and fabrics patched together in a haphazard fashion, and was more than a little reminiscent of a quilt.

The elderly man was finishing up a story at the moment and drew the story closed with a nice and happy ending. These were kids after all. "And, having confused the bear with his wit and skill he skipped merrily along his way. The End."

The kids clapped furiously for a moment, then, (as benefited their short attention spans) immediately began to argue who was going to pick the next story.

The elderly man held up his hands after a moment and sighed. "Well... it seems we can't come to an agreement. Perhaps I should head out?"

The children ceased their argument immediately and converged on him with a chorus of "No" and "You can't go yet!"

Nothing united the crowd like saying you might leave. The elderly man knuckled his mustache and nodded. "Oh, I suppose I could tell another story."

A particularly small girl made herself known. "NO! Sing!" The rest of the kids were quick to jump on the bandwagon. "Yes! Sing Thom! Sing!"

Thom knelt down and smiled. "I seem to be outvoted. Perhaps a song is in order." He pulled his cloak around and considered it. "Let's see..." He mumbled, but clearly enough for the kids to hear. "I'm sure I put that song some where around here. Perhaps..."

One of the five year olds narrowed her eyebrows. "You can't hide a song in your cloak." She accused.

"Ah! Here it is." Thom said pointing to a piece of fabric. He lifted his cloak to his ear like he was listening.

The five year old was having none of it. "That's a piece of fabric. It won't talk to you."

Thom lifted an eyebrow. "Indeed?" He glared accusingly at the cloak. "Have I been imagining your voice?" As he asked this, he moved the arm covered by the cloak so he could put his hand in a specially hidden fold.

A dent appeared in the cloak and spoke. "I've never lied to you Tom." Breezed the cloak.

There was a gasp from the five year old. "It can talk!"

Thom nodded. "Indeed. Now cloak, you were going to tell me what song to sing."
The dent went diagonal like is was annoyed. "Ask nicely." The children giggled.

Thom made a big show of rolling his eyes. "As you wish. Cloak, would you kindly enlighten us all as to what song I am about to sing?"

The cloak sighed breezily. "Well... I suppose you could sing 'Never Shall I See You Again.' A fitting song for last I think."

Thom nodded. "So it is. You can go back to sleep now."
"Finally." Mumbled the cloak. Thom rolled his eyes again and tossed the cloak over his shoulder.
Thom sat down again and began to sing slowly.

Can you hear it
The song calling me?

It came from the mountains
calling me there.

Oh how alluring
The fresh mountain air.

But oh how I wish
You would come with me and stare.

At all the great things
On the mountain so rare.

But you will not
and I feel my heart tear.
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Reading that makes me think of something.

FINISH YOUR BOOK.
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