Green Sun, Black Shadows (CG/Exalted)
- Thread starter Alexander89
- Start date
- Crossover
Which tells me you didn't bother to read any posts in the discussion and decided to jump right to whining, so congratulations.
- Location
- Hawaii
[X] Rifles are so undignified. Much better to use smaller and more streamline guns, like the ones they concealed on themselves.
Akuma-Heika
The Devil Exists Within
- Location
- United States
Are we voting for Lulu's actions or the Raksha? The wording in the vote made me think it was the Raksha, but now thinking about it, that does not make sense, maybe if we were higher Essence, I could see Oramus having Charms able to take control of the Raksha, but that would be then (and with people suggesting them, since I do not believe one exists).
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The Raksha, from appearances. We're discussing a bit of what Lelouch might do later, but what the Raksha do will dictate that to a degree.
NSMS
Probably evil, unfortunately.
- Location
- A rapidly widening tear in the fabric of reality
The Raksha stole the focus of the narrative from Lelouch, as is appropriate considering their nature as living stories.
Raksha have interrupted the story and now we're voting on what they're doing.
Hyacinthium
Writing about sad cannibals as we speak.
- Location
- Bedroom
- Pronouns
- He/Him
OH OK THIS IS FUCKING NEAT
[X] Rifles are so undignified. Much better to use smaller and more streamline guns, like the ones they concealed on themselves.
This is the kind of meta fuckery I love.
[X] Rifles are so undignified. Much better to use smaller and more streamline guns, like the ones they concealed on themselves.
This is the kind of meta fuckery I love.
SirLagginton
Shadow Cabal Caerbannog Bun-Bun
- Location
- Arrrghhh
[X] Rifles are so undignified. Much better to use smaller and more streamline guns, like the ones they concealed on themselves.
Alexander89
Pet the pretty kitty? Y/N
- Location
- Italy
Tally:
- Location
- A lull in the conversation
Thank you... can't believe I didn't look in the threadmarks.
Alexander89
Pet the pretty kitty? Y/N
- Location
- Italy
Inserted tally
A Dance with Death, Act 5
Alexander89
Pet the pretty kitty? Y/N
- Location
- Italy
[X] Rifles are so undignified. Much better to use smaller and more streamline guns, like the ones they concealed on themselves.
"Under arrest?" The brother, Gef Menehune, asks in mock confusion while he and his sister subtly shift their bodies into position. "Pray tell, for what?"
"First, for murder of two noble Britannian soldiers." The noble sneers. "And for suspected collusion with rebel elements of the state."
"Murder? Please, that is such an undignified word." Just like the guards' rifles. It's much better to use smaller and more streamline guns.
Like the ones the Menehune siblings concealed on themselves, so well hidden even the guards at the entrance couldn't find them.
In a smooth motion Gef and Daryllyn dive on opposite sides, out of the rifles' line of sight. The guards fire at the sudden movement, but without the time to adjust their aims the bullets soar above the siblings' heads. Their arms move upward with sinuous movements, pushing the sleek handguns within their sleeves into their waiting palms: they are a sight to behold, with beautiful engravings, their intriguing design unlike anything else that could be found on the common market.
Before the guards can react the siblings open fire while still falling, superior marksman skills directing each bullet to a lethal or disabling spot in their targets' bodies. When they reach the ground the siblings roll back on their feet and point their guns at the frozen noble, his mind still struggling to process what happened. He looks left and right, all of his men either dead or cradling profusely bleeding wounds, before focusing back on the siblings: his face quickly grow red from rage, or maybe embarrassment at the shameful display of his men. "GUARDS!!!"
More men in uniform armed with rifles emerge from the hall's various entrances, summoned by the noble's angry shout. "Arrest those cretins!"
Meanwhile the rest of the noble guests, after a brief moment of panic when the first four men were killed, are now standing in a large circle around the Menehune siblings, watching in fascination the events unfolding while commenting on it, as if assisting to a theatrical representation.
Daryllyn wants to scoff at the mortal's weak response: to make things more interesting he should have engaged them himself, instead of calling more nameless characters. At least the public is in proper awe at their performance. "I bet I can take out more than you." She whispers to her brother.
"Challenge accepted." She can almost hear the grin in his words, and matches it with one of her own. Sprinting forward she evades a hail of bullets, returning fire to create gaps in their formations and make further dodging easier. When she almost reach the ring of noble guests the guards hesitate, unwilling to risk wounding them with a stray bullets: having anticipated it she reacts with perfect timing, snatching a fan from a woman and tossing it above the guards. Predictably they can't help but follow its path, precious seconds she uses to switch to a new magazine for both pistols. When the guards look back she is already running toward them, guns blazing.
Gef's path, meanwhile, brings him to one of the buffet tables. With a graceful jump he lands on the top and sweeps his foot around, sending dishes and cutlery flying towards his attackers. They dodge them with ease, but while they do that his other foot lashes out and kicks a bowl of punch at what looks like the squad leader, drenching him in red liquid. He erupts in the foul language expected from unsophisticated men, the other guards instinctively diverting their attention to him at the sound of their leader in distress. With a simple movement Gef ejects the magazines of both guns and tosses them in the air. While reaching to the spare magazines in his belt his gaze lands on the beautiful mortal lady that previously caught his attention.
Except now he can sees the mark of the Elemental Dragons above her shapely brows.
He smiles in delight, briefly chastising himself for the previous oversight before focusing back on the maneuver. He slams the new magazines into the descending guns, grabs them and then shoots the guards, each bullet finding its mark without fail. He hardly needs to think about the recent discovery to discern its significance: it requires a small change to the scenario, but the result is a vast improvement compared to the old version.
"Dear sister, we're leaving!" He shouts. She looks at him like he's an idiot even more intensely than usual and visibly bites back a curse when he jumps above the ring of spectators, adding a cartwheel for good measure.
A few seconds later she joins him, her own jump lacking a cartwheel but still noteworthy because of the spin at the end. "I win for forfeit!"
He just smiles in response. "So I took out more, as expected. Very well, I'll leave you this small victory."
"That's not what I mean and you know it!" She protests as they run, but at least she doesn't ruin the scene by asking why they aren't going straight for one of the exists.
They reach the beautiful Dragoness, who Gef idly note has been joined by two lesser women. Their eyes meet, shock and surprise facing bold bravado in a perfect instant.
"I'm sorry, Ma Chérie. We'll need to have our talk elsewhere."
His arm snatches her across the waist and presses her lithe body against his side. "Wait whaaaa-!" Her heated question turns into a gasp when bullets begin to fly around them, the remaining guards having caught up to them. Gef and Daryllyn expertly evade the shots by running a zig zag until they reach a window: Gef is the first to jump, feet forward to break the glass, followed by Daryllyn.
"The keys?" He asks as they move towards a suitably expensive car.
"Right here." Gef can deny it all he wants, but she's the best pilot between them. Daryllyn jumps on the driving seat of the convertible and turns on the engine, while her brother deposits his load on the back seats and takes his place next to her. The car shoots forward with a roar, frightening a valet who jumps out of the way.
She makes a few sharp turns before finally leaving the parking lot and taking the main road. "At least now we will arrive early."
[] At their secret base in the harbor, of course.
[] At the night pub where they-
[] BOW
U̗̰͕̤̹̕ḩ̜͙ͭ̈́ͨ?͍̜̖̼̺̃̄ͧ͜
[] FAIL
W̲̩̲̳͂͛͗͋ȃ̶͎̞̜ͤ̈̾ĭ̵̼͙͙͎ͪ̓͆͛̔̊ṭ̘͕̦̗̪͋ͯ̌̀͗̓ ͬͮw̻̪͚ͮ̊̌h̊͏̦̱a̰̣̖ͤͭ̈t͙͉͙̔͐ͮ́̊?̩͇̗̫̑̚!̀͛̊̏
[] BE EATEN
"Under arrest?" The brother, Gef Menehune, asks in mock confusion while he and his sister subtly shift their bodies into position. "Pray tell, for what?"
"First, for murder of two noble Britannian soldiers." The noble sneers. "And for suspected collusion with rebel elements of the state."
"Murder? Please, that is such an undignified word." Just like the guards' rifles. It's much better to use smaller and more streamline guns.
Like the ones the Menehune siblings concealed on themselves, so well hidden even the guards at the entrance couldn't find them.
In a smooth motion Gef and Daryllyn dive on opposite sides, out of the rifles' line of sight. The guards fire at the sudden movement, but without the time to adjust their aims the bullets soar above the siblings' heads. Their arms move upward with sinuous movements, pushing the sleek handguns within their sleeves into their waiting palms: they are a sight to behold, with beautiful engravings, their intriguing design unlike anything else that could be found on the common market.
Before the guards can react the siblings open fire while still falling, superior marksman skills directing each bullet to a lethal or disabling spot in their targets' bodies. When they reach the ground the siblings roll back on their feet and point their guns at the frozen noble, his mind still struggling to process what happened. He looks left and right, all of his men either dead or cradling profusely bleeding wounds, before focusing back on the siblings: his face quickly grow red from rage, or maybe embarrassment at the shameful display of his men. "GUARDS!!!"
More men in uniform armed with rifles emerge from the hall's various entrances, summoned by the noble's angry shout. "Arrest those cretins!"
Meanwhile the rest of the noble guests, after a brief moment of panic when the first four men were killed, are now standing in a large circle around the Menehune siblings, watching in fascination the events unfolding while commenting on it, as if assisting to a theatrical representation.
Daryllyn wants to scoff at the mortal's weak response: to make things more interesting he should have engaged them himself, instead of calling more nameless characters. At least the public is in proper awe at their performance. "I bet I can take out more than you." She whispers to her brother.
"Challenge accepted." She can almost hear the grin in his words, and matches it with one of her own. Sprinting forward she evades a hail of bullets, returning fire to create gaps in their formations and make further dodging easier. When she almost reach the ring of noble guests the guards hesitate, unwilling to risk wounding them with a stray bullets: having anticipated it she reacts with perfect timing, snatching a fan from a woman and tossing it above the guards. Predictably they can't help but follow its path, precious seconds she uses to switch to a new magazine for both pistols. When the guards look back she is already running toward them, guns blazing.
Gef's path, meanwhile, brings him to one of the buffet tables. With a graceful jump he lands on the top and sweeps his foot around, sending dishes and cutlery flying towards his attackers. They dodge them with ease, but while they do that his other foot lashes out and kicks a bowl of punch at what looks like the squad leader, drenching him in red liquid. He erupts in the foul language expected from unsophisticated men, the other guards instinctively diverting their attention to him at the sound of their leader in distress. With a simple movement Gef ejects the magazines of both guns and tosses them in the air. While reaching to the spare magazines in his belt his gaze lands on the beautiful mortal lady that previously caught his attention.
Except now he can sees the mark of the Elemental Dragons above her shapely brows.
He smiles in delight, briefly chastising himself for the previous oversight before focusing back on the maneuver. He slams the new magazines into the descending guns, grabs them and then shoots the guards, each bullet finding its mark without fail. He hardly needs to think about the recent discovery to discern its significance: it requires a small change to the scenario, but the result is a vast improvement compared to the old version.
"Dear sister, we're leaving!" He shouts. She looks at him like he's an idiot even more intensely than usual and visibly bites back a curse when he jumps above the ring of spectators, adding a cartwheel for good measure.
A few seconds later she joins him, her own jump lacking a cartwheel but still noteworthy because of the spin at the end. "I win for forfeit!"
He just smiles in response. "So I took out more, as expected. Very well, I'll leave you this small victory."
"That's not what I mean and you know it!" She protests as they run, but at least she doesn't ruin the scene by asking why they aren't going straight for one of the exists.
They reach the beautiful Dragoness, who Gef idly note has been joined by two lesser women. Their eyes meet, shock and surprise facing bold bravado in a perfect instant.
"I'm sorry, Ma Chérie. We'll need to have our talk elsewhere."
His arm snatches her across the waist and presses her lithe body against his side. "Wait whaaaa-!" Her heated question turns into a gasp when bullets begin to fly around them, the remaining guards having caught up to them. Gef and Daryllyn expertly evade the shots by running a zig zag until they reach a window: Gef is the first to jump, feet forward to break the glass, followed by Daryllyn.
"The keys?" He asks as they move towards a suitably expensive car.
"Right here." Gef can deny it all he wants, but she's the best pilot between them. Daryllyn jumps on the driving seat of the convertible and turns on the engine, while her brother deposits his load on the back seats and takes his place next to her. The car shoots forward with a roar, frightening a valet who jumps out of the way.
She makes a few sharp turns before finally leaving the parking lot and taking the main road. "At least now we will arrive early."
[] At their secret base in the harbor, of course.
[] At the night pub where they-
[] BOW
U̗̰͕̤̹̕ḩ̜͙ͭ̈́ͨ?͍̜̖̼̺̃̄ͧ͜
[] FAIL
W̲̩̲̳͂͛͗͋ȃ̶͎̞̜ͤ̈̾ĭ̵̼͙͙͎ͪ̓͆͛̔̊ṭ̘͕̦̗̪͋ͯ̌̀͗̓ ͬͮw̻̪͚ͮ̊̌h̊͏̦̱a̰̣̖ͤͭ̈t͙͉͙̔͐ͮ́̊?̩͇̗̫̑̚!̀͛̊̏
[] BE EATEN
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ReaperofInterest
Herald of Disaster
[X] BE EATEN
Yeah, no. We're the main character, not you.
Yeah, no. We're the main character, not you.
- Location
- Ohio
[X] BE EATEN
EDIT: Now Colorized
EDIT: Now Colorized
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- Location
- Tel'aran'rhiod
[X] BOW
I like rage powers most
I like rage powers most
Finagle007
[Verified Great Old One]
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
[X] BOW
All hail the King.
All hail the King.
[X] BE EATEN