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Midnight stroll
Topic Started: Sat Jan 19, 2013 1:06 am (237 Views)
Manic Deathstorm
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The cold bitter bite of the freezing rains held no effect on him, but of course what could something so frivolous do to the walking dead. Emotionally and physically the man was devoid of any signs of life, as he sauntered down the street aimlessly, the only driving force present in the man was in his love for his child and his will to never allow her to be alone. If….If it weren’t for her, his hope in remaining alive would have faded the day he lost the single greatest thing that ever happened to him. What bugged him the most was that he couldn’t figure out what had happened to her…Was she dead? No, she was had too much fight to give away her life so easily. But it would make no sense that she would just disappear like that….

A simple sigh passed his slender lips as he dipped his hand into his jacket pocket and brandished a small folded piece of paper. Unfolding it with his hand, he would gaze upon the intricate writings, absorbing their meaning one last time. Shaking his head slowly he would fold the paper back up and slip it into his pocket before shifting his gaze up across his surroundings. She left and would be back shortly…Peh, so much for shortly or anything close to it. Couldn’t she have at least told him where she went...It was of no concern anymore, this much was true. She wasn’t coming back and he couldn’t do anything about it other than be there for Kaiden and Alaina. Exactly what he wanted, Kaiden…A kid that has been obsessed about nothing else other than trying to find his mother, no matter how frivolous it seemed to prove right now. Alaina on the other hand, well….She was Alaina, there was no other way to explain her.

Deciding to take his mind off things, his eyes would slide over towards a group of men circling a downed man that seemed to be begging for them to show some sort of mercy on him. With a shrug of the shoulders, he decided it would prove more entertaining than beating himself with his thoughts; everything seemed so out of control in his personal life. At least….at least this was something he had full control of, who lived and died…

With a simple blink of the eye the man would disappear from sight, only to appear in the center of the men, directly in front of the downed man, a sick sadistic grin upon his lips. Oh the reactions these men made only intensified his pleasure, “Evening gentlemen.” The words seemed forced as they passed his twisted lips, but even so he would lean forward and tip his hat to the men in front of him. Gesturing a simple pass of his hand in the fallen man’s direction, “Now what do we have going on here…Did you intend this man harm…?” As he asked the question his head would tilt to the side and a grin would tug at the corner of his lips, “Ah…But I suppose the grander question is do I intend you all harm? The answer…” Slowly, the man would erect his stance and right his head to its normal position, before he would jolt forward, bringing his right arm sharply up to the man’s neck. Clasping his fingers tightly around the man’s throat, he would proceed to slowly lift him from the ground. Gazing up at the panicked and struggling man, Manic would bar his teeth before ushering forth a hushed word, “Yes…” And with that he would tilt his head to the side and rip right into the side of the man’s neck where he would drink like he was starving.

Soon as he finished and tossed the lifeless body aside, he would note that the rest of them took off and only the downed man would remain too scared to move or speak. Turning to face the man, he would lean down bringing his face inches from him. With a sly grin he would usher a deep throated word, “Boo!” And with that the man bolted up to his feet and took off in fright. Manic would slowly rise, watching the man’s departure, before slowly turning towards the sound of footprints, “Are you perhaps here to stop me? A valiant knight in a corrupt city, or perhaps tell on me? Either or…I don’t find it a wise choice.”
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Akala
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But the green skinned woman could neither answer nor was aware he was there. Her eyes were closed and her slightly emaciated face scrunched in pain from the cold. There was a sword across her back and couple pouches on her belt.

Akala had been sleepwalking like this for weeks. She didn't know why, but there was something dragging her back to Balefire, back to the Gloomwood, and away from the fighting in the frozen north. There was a tugging at her very soul. If she tried to ignore it, she would wake on her feet, miles from where she'd bedded down. The only rest she'd gotten was when she had managed to buy a ride on a farmers wagon - as long as the wagon was moving, she was all right. The moment it stopped though, she was again at the mercy of whatever was pulling at her.

Now that she was here, she though maybe she could get a little rest. She'd dozed off by the fire in a little inn called the Dragon's Egg and was now out here, though she didn't know it.

She shivered in the rain, but did not wake.
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Manic Deathstorm
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There seemed to be no apparent response from the woman that suddenly walked out into the open from him, but that wasn't the extent of the oddity known as this green skinned lady. No it was the fact that her eyes seemingly remained closed throughout everything. Tilting his head faintly to the side, his glowing red eyes would continue to absorb her figure into the folds of his memory as he debated what exactly this woman's play was. There's no way she could be simply sleep walking out through the streets could she? The thought perplexed him slightly and with a simple blink of the eyes, he would appear directly in front of her until a few inches separated the two of them. Lifting a solitary digit, the man would prod her forcefully enough to slightly move her head backwards a mere inch. When no response came from the woman, a simple grin would play across his slender lips. Oh how fun this could be...

His reverie; however, would come with an abrupt interruption of noise and shouts coming from down the way. Casting a quick glance over his shoulder, he would notice a torch light glow from around the corner of a nearby building and as the sentence, "He's down this way," caught his ear all questions would be answered. Thinking quickly on his feet, a simple image would come to his mind and with a quick gesture a small light would gather at his feet and disperse quickly up across his body. Soon as the light passed each part of his body, it would alter and change to mimic that of his mental image until he stood with the appearance of a female. A red overcoat adorned her body, but his signature trademark hat still rested upon her head. Gazing back in the direction of the torch light, she would slowly turn her body to face the oncoming guards with a guarded stare.

Within moments they approached the two of them gasping for air from the exertion of their run, "Did you two see what happened here? And have you seen a man that stood about 6 feet tall, wearing an open front jacket, top hat, black and white hair and red glowing eyes by chance?" The woman simply shook her head and shrugged in feigned confusion, "I had no idea something happened here sir, I was simply trying to keep my sleep walking friend from harm." Her voice was almost a dead match to the real thing and inside it bothered him to use this appearance but there wasn't much that he was used to replicating. Any other attempts of something else may have proved imperfect and could likely have given himself away, not that he had anything to worry about. These guards wouldn't be able to hold to two candles to him, but he didn't have it in him to fight at the moment when his head was clearly somewhere else.
The guard would glance from Manic and to Akala with a raised brow, before ushering a wave with his hand, instructing the other guards to move on ahead and continue their search. Before the man would part he would speak, "If I were you miss, I would get your friend out of here quickly. Who knows if this thing is still around." And with that the guard would part and soon fade within the darkness that blanketed the city. Heaving a relieved sigh, the woman would gesture again and the appearance would fade back to that of his original form. Lifting a single finger up to the brim of his hat, he would push it up just enough to allow his gaze to fixate on the sleeping woman again, "Now now my dear...Where were we...? Ah but of course..."

Reaching up with both of his hands, he would place them palms flat against each of her temples while his long digits would stretch out in a spanning fashion across the rest of her skull. Ushering in the darkness, a thick black smoke like energy would ripple up across his body before fanning out into the the surrounding air. Concentrating his energy the best he could, his eyes would close to slits to block out any visual stimulation. All senses would seem to close down around him as he mentally locked himself within the realm of his mind and the womans in front of him. An image formulated within the clouded folds of their minds as they together weaved a story, the storyteller being none other than himself and her mind would simply followed the fabrications, mirroring them completely. The image spun and wove itself into the reality of their mind, a complete and utter copy of Manic himself standing out in an open planes. Color splashes and formulated across the barren planes, creating a small woodland landscape with clear blue skies and a bright shining sun. Soon a mirror image of the woman Akala would find herself upon the planes sword drawn and standing a fair distance from the one known as Manic. Little did Akala know that she would be thrust so quickly into a battle she seemed ill prepared for. Without much warning a large shadowed figure would come crashing down towards the woman with its sword barring down upon her, aiming to strike her down.

Manic's lips would twist themselves up into a grin at the sight his mind had created, perhaps this spell could be more useful than he once thought. Of course everything would need to be executed to the fullest extent and there was no one better than Manic Deathstorm to fulfill such a theatrical role. A soft chuckle parted from his lips at the thought of having a crowd cheer and swoon over him for an amazing performance. Ah but he was more than a simple actor, he was the ultimate story weaver....Parting his thoughts for a moment, his gaze would shift up towards the large near eight foot tall creature that barred down towards Akala from above. Without a smidge of hesitation, Manic would quickly activate the skill Draconic Might and teleport directly in front of Akala, outstretching his arms instinctively up towards the incoming blade in attempt to catch it. In the midst of his movements the spell Stone skin would take hold across his hands and arms, shielding them from the incoming blow. A large shockwave issued forth from the ground around his feet as he stopped the blade cold in his hands. Turning his head, a quick grin would dance across his lips, "Akala....get your head out of the clouds and strike this behemoth down."

The story was incomplete to whoever viewed it from the outside, but to the two of them this was nothing more than a fast forwarded event of their ficticious storyline together. Weeks ago they met in Balefire where they would become unlikely allies admist a city filled with the wicked and damned. Manic would save her during those times, coming to her rescue when the numbers were stacked against Akala. After that they had met more than a few times and conversed happily over trivial things and even talked about an adventure together. That adventure was the events of current....An adventure to find something that both of them desired....
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Akala
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"Something is wrong here," Akala thought. She was eighty percent certain she was dreaming. The landscape looked odd. She was freezing cold, though there was nothing to indicate why she should be. There was a massive, hideous creature bearing down on her. She had her sword drawn, but couldn't remember drawing it. And there was this pulling sensation in the back of her mind she just couldn't shake and was bleeding irritating.

She looked at the monster bearing down on her. She didn't feel any battle rush. Emotionally and physically, she was unconcerned. Even though she knew this was a fight she probably couldn't win, she couldn't muster anything at all.

Then he was there. And he stopped the monster dead in his tracks. At first she didn't recognize him, even when he called her by name:
"Akala....get your head out of the clouds and strike this behemoth down."

Her mind retroactively filled in the blanks. His name was Maniac Deathstorm - a name which sounded melodramatic and overconfident, but she wasn't about to tell him that.

She readied her sword and dashed around the man, gutting the monster rather neatly. Neatly and easily. She shook her head to clear it, but the world didn't focus any further.

And it continued not to focus in the weeks that followed. She was constantly under attack, in greater and greater numbers. Someone wanted her dead, but she didn't have time to figure out whom before she was attacked again. She felt detached and ill and that persistent, irritating tugging at her mind simply would not go away.

Maniac was always there, guarding her back and pulling her out of danger when she was outnumbered. She appreciated it, but it rapidly got very annoying. His smug overconfidence also annoyed her. But yet she persisted in a partnership with him, though she couldn't say why.

And that damned constant pulling at her mind still didn't go away. Maniac was insisting something about an adventure, something they both wanted, but all Akala wanted was for her mind to clear. It felt like there were a million people inside of it.

"Enough!" she snapped to Maniac one day. "Look, I'm sorry, this is fun and all, but there are some things I have to deal with. Alone. May we meet again under better circumstances." Then she turned and walked away.

And in the dark rain of Balefire, Akala, eyes still shut, returned to her trek down the streets.
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