Crimson Hawk Hotel [Page 3]

The scuffle of powered metahumans was a song that Kae's lightly pointed ears never tired of hearing. Even from around the corner from the half-circle promenade, she could hear the scuff of boots, the singing of steel. And more importantly, she could feel the energy in the air, the aura of power that sat so poorly restrained in some that all they understood was a never-ending glut of violence.

Naturally, she headed right for it.

Busy in their fight, the boys would scarcely have heard her coming, the sharp 'tok' of her wooden heels on pavement mere background noise to the din of combat. This suited her just fine, hips a-sway as she strode confidently right past them, so closely behind the black duster coated tan lad, that the smell of fresh cut roses would wash over them and cling, like the smell of must that hangs in the air after a midsummer downpour.

Equal parts armored and revealed, the woman cut a striking figure, had they been paying attention. It was alright that they didn't, though... she wasn't here for their approval. She wanted their power... and why not begin with an appetizer?

When the bare-chested djinn warrior launched his ball of yellow ki, a reassuring light touch settled on the tight pants of Vahn Fah, cupping the left buttock the way one would expect a girl to appreciate a male dancer at a bachlorette party. With a light squeeze, she gave him a sultry encouragement, drifting past his ear in the wake of a sailing vine lash that erupted out of her back and intercepted the incoming energy ball with a splayed web of grasping tendrils.

Like some sort of grotesque venus fly-trap, the plant appendage swallowed the energy whole, absorbing it into its imitation sinews, and glowing briefly with vigor. As it withdrew, Kae dusted the dark haired man's ear with a teasing kiss from glossy lips.

"*Kick his a**, handsome.*"

Then, just as suddenly as she had come, she was back off down the promenade, her sauntering catwalk leaving a wake of confusion behind her.

Vahn Fah Wrote:

Garah Kirjearim Wrote:

Redgent Wrote:

Knowledge that the gentleman was more than met the eye was noted, but he didn't make threatening motions, so it was fine. Wasn't it the case with everyone-- everyone had a story, some secrets both good and ill resting beneath the surface. D' would have felt such power exuding from the man, just as he may have noted an aura of calm around her. She was no dragon, but she had some sort of proper divinity about her-- this, despite looking like an adult goth gangster catgirl with resting b***h face.

"Ian Weir, hmm?" She took the card and listened to his short spiel, flipping the card over a couple of times. She paused and blinked, flipping it over several times to see the many lines of information offered on its many unseen dimensions. That was fancy, she'd have to see about getting some cards like that.

"Well met, Mr. Weir. I'm D' Aire, president of The Blazestar Empire, chief financier and sponsor of the tournament for many years, including this one. We tend not to handle too much of the administrative tasks; there's a committee for that. However, I could certainly have the right people contact you, for the scheduling of events. And of course, monetary contributions would noted with advertisement space and banners, or such things that you'd provide depending on your involvement."

She smiled, pocketing the card as she assumed it was hers to keep; he could request it back otherwise. "I must ask, though, what is the nature of Monolith, what does it deal in?"

Izette quietly walked down the street with her head hung low as she continued to walk down the streets. However, this would be a common sight to see as she was often frequented this part of Gaia to hung out at the shop. However, what was different about this was the fact that she was drenched in blood. Not only that, she was missing her eyepatch as there were a few gashes on her delicate features a though someone was trying to grab her exposed eyes. The purple helix iris seemed almost too unnatural as it tried to adjust to the outside world around her. Her clothes were tattered and ripped resembling though she was a soldier in a battlefield.

There was so much blood.

And some of it she wasn’t even sure was hers.

She didn’t even remember how she even got where she was. Everything seemed to happen in such a flash that it was hard to even determine what she was faced with. She didn’t even know what blood was her, let alone what injuries were real. Her body ached and screamed. Yet, she kept pressing forward with a large garbage like bag in her hand. From the corner, a dark black ichor dripped from the bottom as she continued forward.

At that moment, the punker noticed that she could see her ginger friend standing at the front of the Aekea & Red Ace: Auto & More Shop talking to a familiar blonde with a lion’s mane. However, she didn’t do her normal tackle hug or even obnoxious wave. She merely continued to trench forward with a shaking hand that was lugging such a heavy item.

“Hey." As she walked up to them she didn’t bother to stop for any pleasantries. She merely turned into the shop door and walked inside to head towards their usual spot. The combination of blood and ichor left a lovely trail on Ryke’s freshly cleaned floors, but she didn’t care. She thought it was more amusing than anything.

Finally, reaching the back of the shop. The punker flopped on the workbench the bag with a loud thunk. As it rested, the bag opened slightly to reveal a long set of platinum hair that had been stained with the blood that was on her hands. It wasn’t just any sort of hair… but it was attached to something. Something that wasn’t exactly human… or was it?

Sighing a bit, the punker proceeded to dig into her cleavage with her bloodied body and pull out her smoke as per usual. She was still unusually quiet as she continued to puff and light the cylinder to get the cherry to glow it's light orange colour. Izette had never done anything even close to what she had done in her entire life…

Just a Kroww Wrote:

Sins of an Angel Wrote:

Melech Dawntreader Wrote:

The crimson hawk…

How many years had it been since she was here last? Only ever coming and staying thanks to her friends bugging her to fight. It had been amusing more or less. However now? She was the one bringing a team, who would ever of thought that the little brawler from durem would do such a ludacris thing.

The PMC all terrain vehicle pulled over out the front, the drivers door opening so that the woman could jump down and stare at the hotel doors.

“Don’t worry I will get the room sorted, just grab the bags!”

Stopping for but a moment to look back over her shoulder, “Don’t forget the drinks.”

All of the fighting was ignored, there was a mission she had to complete… At all costs.

Sadly her companion may not of realised just how bad things would be when he agreed to come with her. Not only had she driven them there, she had driven the damn vehicle like the streets were a dirt trail. It was safe to say Jay had never actually driven in Durem… ever. Only planets where you rode through active battlefields, or there simply were no roads, or flying through the sky on Skittles.

No doubt Enness would need a moment to recover to horrific ordeal, where as the woman skipped happily towards the doors. Knee high combat boots lightly striking the pavement, skin tight black pants covering her legs yet leaving next to nothing to the imagination. This was joined by the usual black bikini top and her thick winter coat with the generous fur collar.

Not an unusual sight over all, aside from wearing actual pants.

The woman slipped a glance at her right hand, there cradled was the golden card… The one thing she needed to get this whole thing cemented. A wicked smile formed as she skipped through the doors to the counter, sliding the card over to the receptionist and making a booking for two in a rather lavish suite. Her confidence in being able to repay Enness was admirable, although not entirely unfounded. Through some damn miracle she had managed to assemble what she thought was the best team possible.

“Ahhhh!! This is going to be great!!!!” Spinning on her heel she would run to meet Enness as he got out of the car, jumping through the air to wrap her arms around his shoulders and neck.

Was how the woman envisaged what was happening, the reality was more her being a pain with her over excitement.

Nighthunter Wrote:

Silver eyes studied the aelf as it moved and changed patterns. Perhaps this was too sudden for the creature before him. The slime did not know what plauged this creature, driving it to drink. The slime rested an arm on the table, soaking it in the clear wine. When V leaned forward, the chair and table creaked, voicing their objection to his shift in weight loudly. There was a resounding snap as one of the chair legs buckled but didn't fall off, the tension had been to much for the poor thing.

Quote: Wrote:

> "How do you know me?"

V did not answer immediately, instead the slime almost shifted his weight again, before the chair protested loudly about the cruel and unusual treatment it was getting. Change of plans then. Holding up his hand, flat surfaced and facing the aelf, V clearly signaling stop. The slime would then point to his eyes, to his other hand then give the OK sign. It needed to make sure that the aelf would be good to follow his other hand before continuing.

When the aelf was focused on his hand, the slime would stretch the membrane out creating a small flat surface where his hand was. A small human figure would rise up from the membrane and start walking, with a spring in it's step and arms swinging dramatically. V would point at the figure then to his chest. The small figure would stay in place as it walked then on the far side of the membrane a stadium would rise out of the membrane, one the aelf should know well. It was a poor replica of the Leviathan Stadium but it was recognizable none the less.

V would then point to the membrane version of him, to the stadium, and then throw a few light boxing jabs. On the flat membrane the stadium would sink back into the surface and another small figure would appear. This new figure and the one that was there would 'fight' as best as they could, the small figures just slapping each other slowly, making small little popping sounds when they hit each other. The first figure would be knocked down and the second one would walk away. Repeating this process a few times, the membrane glistening softly as was thinner than the rest of him, light catching it giving off a slight surreal feeling.

The slime would point to the figure down on the 'ground' and hang his head as if he were sad or upset. The whole thing might have been dramatic, over the top but it was important in answering the question to how he knew the aelf. Or was it? For a moment the Slime stopped his story and looked at the slight reflection in the clear liquid that was soaking into the table. He would finish the rest of the details another time. Shifting his attention back to the mimicry act, the figure on the membrane got up and walked away, and the flat surface shifted to show the stadium. V pointed to it then, retracting the membrane made binoculars with his hands. The slime hoped that would suffice.

Eternal Dirge Wrote:

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Cthulhu Wish Wrote:

Sins of an Angel Wrote:

Just a Kroww Wrote:

The man in black seemed as though he had been simultaneously dreading and anticipating this question. His slight grin/grimace betrayed a certain peculiar flavor of trepidation. Under his own stress, the accent all but vanished.

"It would be easier to speak about what Monolith doesn't deal in. You see, the Estate is a collection of assets, corporations, interests, trusts, networks and political positions that were inherited by the Holder. It's almost a thing alive itself, consuming, trading, and growing constantly at the behest and guidance of the Holder of the Estate. Were it not that Monolith was graced with such an Heir, one might reasonably think it would stagnate under the weight of it's own value. I myself know little of the exact size or influence of the Estate, as I have only been told as much, but given they hired me, the particulars of Monolith's political and economical power is likely nothing to sneeze at."

He seemed to loosen slightly, mustache twitching as he worked the wince out of his smile.

"Ta be quite honest, ma'am D' Aire, I'm ever so slightly concerned I'll end up shanghaied intae participating, and while I'm no slouch in a skirmish, on professional principle I tend ta avoid such..."

The man in black almost trailed off, reflecting the tense lull of the street brawl in his shades.

"...crass behavior."

Unchecked Twitch Wrote:

The tell tale squeal of skidding tires cut across the silence surrounding the quiet garage, obnoxiously so no less. Ryke had been cleaning up the mess she made around her truck when the noise nearly caused her to jolt upright, head first into the open hood. With a clearly annoyed huff, she let it shut heavily and turned around to give the guy who was burning rubber outside of her place of business a piece of her mind.

”Could you maybe NOT be an a*****e and-”

Quote: Wrote:

> “Hey, sorry for not calling. It’s about time I actually gave you my number. Heads up!”

There was a cellular phone flying at her face before she could finish her sentence, but the familiar voice was all she needed to know that it wasn’t just some random blockhead who thought he was cool. It was one she knew. One who was late for his shift. Who’s phone nearly busted her nose as it careened toward her at a near inhuman speed. Okay not really, but it still caught her off-guard.

”What the-” She fumbled but managed to catch it before it made contact. ”Swear to god I’m gonna murder you, find someone to raise you and kill you again. Damnitt!” She griped and grumble, while begrudgingly exchanging digits between her phone (of modern tech) and his ancient brick of a cellular device.

Ryke offered the phone back to Connor while taking the opportunity to size him up properly. They could have been twins in that moment, both covered in some mixture of dirt, oil and everything else. She rolled her eyes at him, ready to go on tirade about being late and missing his shift. ”Not even gonna ask what held you up this time cause I’m sure it’ll just be some story about how you had to stop and rescue a bus load of orphans from going over a bridge. Am I right?” The way one corner of her lips twitched and curled inward was a sign she wasn’t entirely upset.

She tossed the phone back and went back to straightening up her workspace, putting tools back where they belonged and making sure nothing was left out or was glaringly out of place or wrong.

Quote: Wrote:

> ”Looks like I’m right on time! Your s**t ready? I’m sure I can make some space for you.”

”Huh?” Ryke had been too focused on Connor’s late arrival to realize he had been holding a flyer in one hand. A flyer that looked suspiciously similar to the one Noah had brought to her, the one advertising Heaven or Hell. ”Oh. Well, I was going to ask Iz about it but sounds like you’ve already committed us all to a team.” The notion made her laugh, remembering the last time the three of them competed together. ”S’pose that means I have no choice but to come along then?” Tossing a rag off in some aimless direction, not caring particularly where it landed, she took up residence on the seat of the bike, deliberately sideways to face Connor. From this proximity she was able to see what seemed to be burn marks along one side of his neck, or so they appeared to be anyway. Grabbing him by the arm, she yanked him down closer to get a better look at them. ”What happened there now?” Was that concern in her voice and on her face? Or was it the way she reached to touch it with her fingertips? Probably not smart before she had washed away the dirt and oil but forethought was not with her in that moment.

A moment that could have been touching - until it was utterly smashed into tiny pieces with the sounds of shouting-

Quote: Wrote:

> Cthulhu Wish Wrote: > "Izzy! Hey! The ******] > > > > She glanced past Connor, over his shoulder just as the punker formerly in question trudged up towards the garage, toting a sack of gore behind her with every step. Dirt and blood left a slick trail along the pavement as she approached. Ryke stared on mouth agape and eyes as wide as saucers. She barely registered the sounds of Jake shouting at Izzy, frantic as he arrived just in time to see the horror show that was dropped at her doorstep, metaphorically speaking. Analyzing the situation, there was something in that bag vaguely head-shaped and bleeding profusely, Izzy herself was caked in the sticky red life and made no sudden movements. Her greeting was uncharacteristically unenthusiastic and lacking in all of her usual glee. > > ”Izzy....” Ryke began, approaching her friend carefully and slowly. ”Izzy what the ****** happened? Where’s Mel?” > > > > Unless ”Oh sweet ******** christmas-that’s not his head? DID YOU GUYS HAVE AN ARGUMENT?” *No, no stupid. That was ******** ridiculous.* She chided herself in her momentary absurdity, but the entire scene was gruesome and mildly concerning. > > > > Ryke lifted a finger to question just what the actual ******** was going on when she noticed it - ”Wait - where’s your eyepatch?? Izzy - what did you do?” > > > > > > > > > > Cthulhu Wish Wrote: > > > > > Just a Kroww Wrote: > > > > > Melech Dawntreader Wrote: