Raidou

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This

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NIGHT seemed to freeze, as a glass in her grasp began to splinter and fracture with her clutching it so tightly. He'd allow in silence for the girl to speak her piece, something stewing beneath. Milling about behind an insistent parade of tapping and small give-aways that played through body language. Others within the building seeking solace behind any object they could muster to place themselves between the tension from two players accented and of obvious higher levels. Seeking shelter from the conflict. It wasn't until the girl would leave, presumably hunting for her own exit, that Raidou b

A quiet stance as NIGHT spoke her reflection, peeling pieces apart and misinterpreting most of what he'd define. "The key word is allies. We simply do not have the luxury of catering to enemies hoping they will decide to be allies eventually. Our manpower as players is limited, even more so as our numbers diminish. Putting them down humanely is all we can do, and that is not limited to just the cardinal's creations. Some players do in fact fall under that scope." He allowed the grim reality of that statement to sink in, eying that glass and silently wishing they were elsewhere where he wouldn'

"Observably yes. I was willing to put down Gabrandr and for two simple reasons." Finding no ire in her words, despite the fact it started to seem as though she was troubled. Tapping the side of a tea cup, finding a strange bit of irony in the fact, for once, he wasn't the angry one. "One, none of the evidence suggested that Gabrandr was anything more than a hostile. Attacking first, aiming a bunch of weapons at the ceiling above us. A snap of his fingers, like his creator, could have had the entire place cave in. As much as we'd like to believe he was at our mercy, we were still at ends." Runn

ID:206354 | Battle:2, Craft:1, Loot:8 (No Proc), +66 via BH, OOC: 150 ish words of nothing because it's immune to TECH shift. A slight exhale as Raidou begins to widen his stance, pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose as he starts to gain focus. "Recover your strength." catching the slight uneasiness in the girl's breath, the subtle little catch as she breathed, was basically on blast to his acute hearing. The gleam of his blade, causes the creature to second guess any hostility. Instead, it rounds slowly, weighing its options carefully. His legs remain planted as the automaton pr

ID:206347 | Battle:5, Craft:12, Loot:13 [+8 EN] A nod as he pivots, raking that stone he'd obtained from Ariel down the blade again. It rekindles the fleeting fire, and in one broad and rapid cleave it connects with the thing's right shoulder. It sheers off clean, clipping off an arm and carves a smoldering blue flame through its chest. The monster shrieks in disdain, and from the players flanks as if in response, the loud sound of pistons firing. "Not quite." Raidou repeats himself from before, drawing attention to the fact he'd never assume that enemies 'were the last' What comes b

Pushing his hand off of his face, smearing the age of a day along with it. He tries desperately to dive into his work, starting to take a plant and work it in an mortar. Grinding it to a powder, small flakes of green, not unlike tea from a bag. He plucks the vessel and turns it over the top of a large sphere, seeing those flakes drop like snow inside to the awaiting liquid. His fingers clutch to a dial and with a twist heat begins to raise, the mixture within starting to boil. It slowly starts to shift into a green color, matching the herb added. An intense stare at that glass, seeing his own

ID:206340 | Battle:8, Craft:4, Loot:1 (No Proc), +66 via BH Turning on his heel, and driving that burning blade through the one he had by the gullet. It screams in agony as that hunk of steel passes through, much easier than it should be able to. The smattering of exploding glass is punched out the back of the beast, before Raidou pivots and dislodges it in a violent twist. It skips upon the first connection, another in succession before it starts to grind. Raidou rips the Ebon Star up and catches a set of still smoldering claws on the flat of the blade, a spray of sparks from the impact

His feet carry him back to the town of beginnings, a face that looked like it had endured a mountain of conflict. The clatter of his feet upon a gateway, and through a murmur he whispers "Floor 3, Aruyt". The gate illuminates in a sudden flare, and with a pulse it fires him up two floors in the blink of an eye. Aruyt was dead, not a soul in sight. All that remained was the gentle orange glow bleeding through small slits in walls. Portraying the occupants within, and the slight sounds of movement as he passes past those small openings. Footfalls bring him out the large barricade of wood and vin