[F11-PP-PT] Two Flames

[Mari 1]

Floor 11…

Taft

The place Mari broke her creed. Her decision to never willingly step into a town with her orange cursor. Yet here she was again - on the outskirts. A half hour walk from the large, thriving city - and yet - not a soul was nearby. Rarely anyone walked this far out. Why would they when they could just fucking teleport? Mari didn’t really have that luxury, she only had the one crystal left and needed it for the upcoming boss fight.  With her current status, there was no real way to just wander into a city and buy another.

Friends would have spares, probably. Maybe. But it was not a risk she was planning on taking.

The woman was in her usual attire, a leather length of harness under her chest which glowed slightly with embers- as though the leather was only a top layer and beneath burned - her orange shirt, black shorts - fishnets - and a forever tattered length of black scarf that trailed on the dirt behind her. Mari was pacing. Finger tapping a folded elbow. Should she try to venture there again? No - last time went absolutely terribly. And it’d make her trek to the 9th floor to collect more sulphur for Atan completely pointless. Speaking of - Mari reeked of it. Sulfur, and coal. Burning.

Not that she cared. The woman was practically used to the scent by now. “Fuck it.” Mari muttered as she threw herself to the ground in a seated position by a tree, not too far off the dirt path. Close enough to watch people go by, but far enough to not be a nuisance - of course she still had that angry red cursor above her head which always invited trouble. She was practically a flame amidst a green forest at this point with her current attire. Not exactly subtle.

Mari needed a drink. So, she pulled out the small set of chartreuse bottles from her inventory and set them by her side. Opening up one of them and downing half the bottle right there and then.

The fuck should I do?
 

Spoiler

Name: Mari True Tier: 10 Level: 1 Paragon Level: 0 HP: 30/30 EN: 25/25 Stats: Damage: 12 Mitigation: 26 Accuracy: 5 Evasion: 4 Battle Healing: 2 Loot Die: 1 Stealth Rating: 5 AA BLI: 8/-5 ENV-O: 8 PARA-V Equipped Gear: Weapon/Armor/Trinket: - Paralytic Contagion | T4 | Absolute ACC I | Paralytic Venom I | Envenom OFF I | Blight I Armor/Trinket: - Infernal Shadow-Redemption | T4 | EVA III | MIT I Shield/Armor/Trinket: - Glasses | T1 | ACC III Combat Mastery: - Combat Mastery: Damage R3 Combat Shift: - AOE Shift Familiar Skill: - Rending Familiar Custom Skill: - Skills: - Battle Healing R5 - Charge - Cloth Armor R5 - Energist - Polearm R5 Extra Skills: - Survival - Hiding R5 - First Aid R3 Inactive Extra Skills: Addons: - Focus - Nimble - Precision - Resolve - Stamina Mods: - Athletics - Surpise Attack: Trickster - Untraceable - Vanish Inactive Mods: Battle Ready Inventory: Housing Buffs: - Bedroom: -1 energy cost for the first two expenditures of each combat - Living Room: Increases out of combatHP regen by (5 * Tier HP) and decreases full energy regen to 2 Out of Combat Posts. Guild Hall Buffs: Scents of the Wild Totem: Wedding Ring: Crafting Profession: - Alchemist[exp] R10 Gathering Profession:

 

 

 

Edited 2 hours ago by Mari

[Lancaster 1]

The gentle rustling of grass immediately put the man on edge, unfurling his fingers and shoving the many rings on his fingers closer to his palms as he made a gesture like he was popping his knuckles. Back pressed to a large oak tree, he was under the understanding that he would have been left well enough alone out this far. Tapping at his chest as he'd look out toward the direction of the sound, the moment he hones in on it he notices the little floating icon of an orange player. At least it wasn't going to be that annoying, as normally they'd just flee to the town like little mice the moment he confronted him. This one wouldn't have the option. Moreover it was a dame, short and very bright against her backdrop. Mari. The man recalled in a mental phrase. From a number of stolen records, recounts and discussions from all manner of sightings. That hair and marker was damn near a finger print. One of the frontlines with the worlds most obtuse and messy wrap sheet.

From his pocket he pulls a jimmy, shoving it in between the left side of his lips. It wasn't a graceful thing, something slapped together without even the slightest aid of the system. But he'd snap his fingers and see the small flame started on them to it and cause it to glow red. He'd push his back to the trunk, sliding down and taking a seat. Pulling hard on that cigarette, he cups his hand across his lips and lets the ash fall.

“Fuck it.”

*thunk*

The woman sat one a few feet from him, not even realizing he was there yet it seemed. Lancaster wasn't enthused at the prospect of getting wrapped up in all the pile of fuckery on the upper floors. They had a habit of ruining his little sandbox, and shitting in his cereal if given the opportunity. But things could easily go just as tits up if she spotted him first and thought he meant to sneak up on her. Checking his cards, he weighed his options. Even if he could take her it wouldn't be easy and extremely messy.

*hhhhhaaaa*

A long exhale, as he'd wave his hand to put out the flame. "Don't mind sharing Amore? Little parched over here." The man spoke with a thick tinge of italian to the bottle she was carrying, not looking in her direction.

---

<<Assisting System Engaged>>
Level: 1
Paragon: 0
Tier: 1
True Tier: 1

Final EXP: +5%

---

Lancaster | HP: 20/20 | EN: 20/20 | DMG: 1

Spoiler

 

Name: Lancaster
True Tier: 1
Level: 1
Paragon Level: 0
HP: 20/20
EN: 20/20

Stats:
Damage: 1

Equipped Gear:
Weapon/Armor/Trinket: 
  - 
Armor/Trinket: 
  - 
Shield/Armor/Trinket: 
  - 

Combat Mastery:
  - 

Combat Shift:
  - 

Familiar Skill:
  - 

Custom Skill:
  - 

Skills:

Extra Skills:

Inactive Extra Skills:

Addons:

Mods:

Inactive Mods:

Battle Ready Inventory:
  - Starter Healing Potions (Heals 50 HP) x3

Housing Buffs:

Guild Hall Buffs:

Scents of the Wild Totem:

Wedding Ring:

Crafting Profession:

Gathering Profession:

 

 

Edited 6 hours ago by Lancaster

[Mari 1]

Don't mind sharing Amore? Little parched over here."

Huh

Mari straightened her back at the thick accent.

Italian?


Mari blinked. Crap…she knew some Italian - she knew a lot of phrases in a lot of languages. Linguistics…Language…Science…the violin… all things she loved.  Instead of failing to introduce herself in Italian Mari pulled a second small bottle out of her casque, handing the man the entire bottle. “It’s frustratingly sweet.” Mari said. “I’d rather something like whiskey, but this was free.” Mari would never be one to knock a free gift.

She hadn’t realized the man was there, in all honesty. If she had known - she would have left well enough alone, found some other place to hole up and drink. She didn’t exactly feel like being super social right now. He reached out to grasp it and Mari couldn’t help but glance down at all the rings he wore. Eccentric?

Her gaze rose to meet his eyes. Crimson, beneath crimson locks of hair. She supposed he was going for a look, not that she could talk. Mari was practically a walking flame at this point, this man seemed to be much the same. With a sigh Mari turned her head away from him, her own gaze shifting back to the road.

Her head fell flat against the trunk of the tree with a light thunk. The two sat in silence as Mari took another swig from her bottle. Wincing at the overt sweetness. Wishing for something a little nicer. Mari felt like she was often finding herself in these situations. First with Arcanthus and Katoka - then Oscar, now this strange Italian man. 

Instead of introducing herself Mari simply lifted her bottle to the man in a toast, “Sopare” She had said it right, but it was clearly an Australian accent as opposed to his native Italian.

[Lancaster 1]

Reaching out and taking the bottle by the neck, he'd pull the cigarette out and down a mouthful. The taste immediately caused some bone in his body to jump to refusal. He'd cough almost dropping the chartreuse, quickly handing it back to her. "Ugh, no offense Angioletto, but is syrup." taking his hand he'd rub it on his tongue, finding the salt a fair counter balance to it. She clearly wasn't joking. The man rubs his hand on the tree at his back, running his tongue around in his mouth to dilute the taste. "Burned through the last of my whiskey about an hour ago, now I am filled with....regret. You smoke?" He perched the question aiming for an amicable break instead of one of contention.

Into his pocket he'd fish out another unfiltered stick of tobacco. Lancaster lights up another with a snap of his fingers causing one of the rings to light up bright, mainly to save the taste buds in his face from committing suicide after being subject to what was more sugar the booze. He'd hold the little box with one sticking out, toward her if she'd aim to take it.

[Mari 1]

 "Ugh, no offense Angioletto, but is syrup."

Mari snorted, then laughed. "Yeh. No shit. Hang on." She opened up her menu - where was it...Ah... Mari had originally been saving it for when, if ever Oikawa had returned...but...she began to doubt that would ever happen. Now, Mari was just waiting to her about his name being on the monument of life.  Whiskey. "The best way to describe this...ahhh...Sullivans Cove?" Mari inquired. It was a brand of Whiskey, back in the real world. Expensive. Very. Known for being incredibly smooth with hints of floral vanilla. Then ending with a hint of malt. Mari put down the Chartreuse, rather - she threw it back in her inventory.  The only thing it was good for...was getting drunk quickly. Mari stared at the bottle in her hands for a moment. Rolling it to and fro. It would have been nice to share this with others...that was her intent. This kind of thing was not one to hoard to yourself. Unless you were the selfish, self absorbed type. Mari twisted the seal, then uncorked the bottle. She took a long swig of it. Yup. Just as she remembered. 

The whiskey still had a slight floral hint - but it was far surpassed by the malty vanilla overtones. "Try this instead." Instead of passing it directly to him, Mari placed it carefully on the grass between them. That definitely hit the spot. Much better.

 "Burned through the last of my whiskey about an hour ago, now I am filled with....regret. You smoke?"

Burned through? Mari turned to him, brows furrowed quizzically. As in drank? He didn't seem inebriated. Maybe he hadn't taken the quest yet, and had simply drank it to enjoy. The man asked if Mari smoked and she shook her head, passing up on the offer of tobacco. "Nah. Not really. Used to when I was stressed." A lot of things stressed her out. "But now we can get drunk here, I'd much prefer a malty whiskey." She mused. Mari watched as he lit the cigarette with a snap of his fingers. Curious. 

"That's a neat trick." Mari mused with a nod of her head. It was clear he had a penchant for fire now. It should have been obvious, much like how Mari's was - but - she was doing her best to never assume anything about anyone these days.

[Lancaster 1]

Watching on his peripheral the moment she opened her inventory, gauging each and every motion. Ready to spring up and create chaos if she opened up that little friends log of hers. But instead she dug through a pile of random crap in a massive list denoting her inventory. This was why he stuck to pockets, which equated to quick slots that allowed him to find it. A flash of blue light and a bottle appears, a squared thing in a rich brownish gold. As she'd uncork it and offer it in the space, he'd lean down and pluck it up in a limp hand. The cigarette smoking as it hung from his lips, he'd pass the neck of it under his nose. "Vanilla, a bit of spice. Well played, Amore. alla nostra" He'd take a swig and it struck so much cleaner, that bite stung well down his gullet. He'd place it back and take another heavy dose of nicotine.

"That's a neat trick."

Perking his eyes toward her, Lancaster finds her interest rather rewarding. Wasn't too often anyone even had given him the opportunity for him to express it. "It is somewhat a simple one. See the rings bella donna?" He'd hold his hand toward her like the godfather, a limp hang. The string of gold bands show all manner of gemstones set in them. Sapphires, Rubies, Emeralds, all sorts. "Is cerberus etching, most use it like a grindstone for swords. Set it in a ring. Quick flame, with powerful results." Turning that hand and snapping his fingers they alight like a candle, the fire coming out of his index and thumb like a lighter "Combine with a little immunity to heat and presto." He would sound proud of it, as he'd allow it to burn. 

[Mari 1]

"-alla nostra"

As the man placed the bottle back into the nest of grass Mari grabbed it. Alla Nostra Huh?  An odd notion between two strangers, but none Mari would take nonetheless. She took another long drink from the bottle and let the liquid sit in her mouth, washing away the final pungent fruity nectar of the chartreuse. Mari swallowed, and it burned as it fell down her throat and settled in her stomach. Mari inhaled slowly and closed her eyes. Enjoying the moment. The sun was warm, the air smelt loamy, like fresh earth. Even if it was tinged with hints of sulfur and burnt charcoal from her own form. "Mari." She finally said. Thinking it best to at least give him a name to a face. 

"See the rings bella donna?"

"Mmm?" Mari leaned forward and to the side, shifting her body so she was facing him completely now, still leaning against the same tree. At first, Mari thought the rings an eccentric form of fashion. A little obtuse for her liking, but who was she to judge? She trudged around wearing a tattered scarf. "Oh...Oh..." Mari said as her eyes lit up at his explanation. "That's smart." She pointed to her own harness across her chest - an old one that had the very same once upon a time. "I had used something similar on my clothes. Kept me warm - burned attackers...but that..." She paused, taking another swig of whiskey. "That's smart." She complimented him again. It wasn't often she saw people finding unique uses for their items. She could count them on her hand. Freyd. Raidou. Atan.  Not many...

Her eyes were focused on the flame as it stayed alight - dancing silently yet dangerously upon his fingertips. The woman had a temptation to reach out to that flame, but held fast. He was a stranger, there was no use in getting grabby over someone she just met, just because she was interested in his parlor tricks. Dangerous parlor tricks.

"Just don't let that drop into the Whiskey, k?" Mari commented. "That shit was hard for me to get."

 

[Lancaster 1]

Locking a gaze with the woman in a way that most didn't even get the chance to, it was a bit of an odd circumstance for him. It had been quite some time since he'd even nursed such a conversation for longer then a minute or two, and it was usually a lot more heated. Dangerously so. "It would Sound like you're smart yourself dolcezza. Most discard what they find, very.... short sighted...brava" A quick flick of his wrist sees the flame snuffed out. A ginger hand clutches that bottle and sees it tilted and placed back down. Wasn't often that he could share his passions with someone who could actually get it, truly.

He'd take another drag and offer a spray of smoke up into the air off his right as given he wasn't trying to start a battle with a lack of manners. "Those eyes of yours are alluring. Dangerous." The comment off the cuff, almost spoken as a fact that was loaded with a lot more meaning that it would let on. "Lancaster, is a pleasure." pressing his hand across the lower half of his face, he'd inhale and finish it off. His social batteries were always working at half mass, so the man was surprised that he'd even kept going this long. "Where you find it?" offering a point to the bottle as he'd pop in another one, given he had about zero fucks given he could smoke like a sailor in here. A single notification draws his attention, causing him to turn and offer a wave of his hand to dismiss it. "Fucking guards again, worthless coglione. seccante"

[Mari 1]

The man held her gaze, burning, intense. Curious. Mari wanted to look away but struggled to do so, as though he had captured her with merely a glance, and a flutter of lashes over angled eyes.  He complimented her, and Mari was finally able to break the gaze. Her own shifting  up to the sky. Normally...Mari would attempt to brush off compliments, ignore them, decry them. But somehow, she was tired of that. Oscar was making it a habit to make sure she didn't do that - in all manner of ways. Mari relaxed, letting one leg splay out toward him, the other curled up beneath her. Mari thrummed her fingers over her knee in thought. He called her sweet? Ha. If only he knew. "I'm more sour than sweet." Mari finally said. It wasn't exactly rebuffing his compliment, more so...a tit for tat.

"Those eyes of yours are alluring. Dangerous."

Mari took the whiskey from his hand and was mid swig when he made the comment. Mari coughed, pulling the bottle away as she spluttered - only to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. Why did he say that out of the blue?? Mari turned to him. Dangerous? Her eyes had never been called that before. Mari stared at him, as though searching for an answer. During that time, he introduced himself. "Lancaster..." Mari repeated softly, as though committing the name to memory. She offered him a wry smile. "Only my past is dangerous, but...I assume you figure that, huh?" It was often Mari would come across people who knew of her. Rather, it was hard not to. Especially those with markers that matched her own. "Mayhaps...a  mostriciattola?" She laughed at the implication. Little Monster.

"Where you find it?"

"Stole it." Mari said. "A few years ago..." She picked up the bottle, rather than drink from it she held it in her hands, thumbs tracing over the label. "There was a meeting discussing one of the floor bosses...and on my way out - I saw it. They wouldn't miss it. Even if they did, I don't think I could have let it go. I was saving it for something, but that...won't come to pass."

He seemed distracted by a notification and Mari pressed the bottle back into his hands, he sounded like he needed it. "All NPCs are." She said simply. Mari never really cared for any of the artificial life forms here.

[Lancaster 1]

A smile crept across the mans face, one that he only wore rarely. "Sour, and yet you took to no hesitation offering me honey? Color me a fool." Spoken as she'd look up to the sky, finding that perhaps that italian charm of his had eroded her resolve and filled her with embarrassment. Even when it wasn't intended to do so, or even intentional. She took the bottle and tore a massive swath out of it, likely trying to pick up the pieces of her fleeting resolve. "Indeed, yet I felt myself trapped." He'd tap his eyebrow twice with his finger as she'd start to stare at him with a renewed intensity. "There is nothing wrong with a little danger, mostriciattola. If anything I welcome it." taking a puff of that cigarette, flicking the ash off to the side with a tap of finger. The same hand points up to the little marker over his head, spinning there like a beacon of his statement.

That cigarette returned to his lips, as he'd lean down and take the bottle from her as she'd rub the label. "Stole it. I see. What were you saving it for?" Looking it over, the man was trying to find some sense of direction or information as to where it originated from. Passing it back to her. "If it was special, then is simple...." Taking another drag, he tosses the thing into a nearby bush. "Take it...Amore, there is nothing stopping you." Sliding it back into her hands, given he wasn't able to find any real distinguishing markings on the bottle probably due to the age. Another obnoxious ping attempts to draw his attention like a buzzing insect that he is forced to swipe a hand at to shoo it away. "I would suppose I am needed. Otherwise I will continue to be pestered by these... noises. If your danger is behind you, then I fear I must leave you. But please..." He'd look to the woods and point a finger as a direction.

"There is a tavern a ways down there, help yourself."

[Mari 1]

 "Sour, and yet you took to no hesitation offering me honey? Color me a fool." S

Mari snorted, somehow - she was really enjoying Lancasters company. Despite being a total stranger, he was easy on the eyes. He talked to her as an equal. He didn't try to judge her, nor her marker. Not that he could without being hypocritical. He didn't try to analyze her actions and she didn't feel like saying the wrong thing would have her stabbed or scolded. "Ahh...but..." She offered him a grin. "I could have poisoned it, and you took it, like a fool." She said it in a joking manner. Mari wasn't exactly in the business of poisoning people.

Not anymore.

Not for a long time.
 

"Indeed, yet I felt myself trapped."

Trapped.

"Yeh. I know the feeling." She said. Mari knew it all too well, and she wasn't only talking about her time in prison. "Pick your poison." She mused, a throwback to her earlier joke as she lifted up a hand, counting on neatly manicured nails. "This game, prison, society, expectations...all prisons." And in a sense, they were. Each one had trapped Mari in some way or another. She blinked when she found Lancaster placing the bottle back in her hands.  The temptation to continue to drink was strong, but she was already feeling a warm familiar buzz. If she kept going, she'd begin to loose sense.

"Danger..." Mari repeated, thinking of his words. "It can be fun." But what danger did he speak of? Clearly, he had done something to piss off guards - the constant ping that made his brow twitch each and every time. Aimed at the right things, NPCS for one. A good way to get out ones frustrations - but Mari knew people would look down on her for that, judge her for it. That line was too close to real people. Real reactions. But thats just it, there was a very distinct difference between NPC and human. And few really understood that.

Mari watched as Lancaster took another drag of his cigarette, turning his head to blow the smoke away from her. "I was saving it for if I saw Oikawa again." She admitted, perhaps a little too easily. There was so much to say, but...not to someone like Lancaster, a near stranger. So instead. Mari pushed herself to her feet with a sigh. Still holding strong to the neck of the bottle. "I've had lots of time to think. And I've decided to not dwell on things. The man may never return. If I hear of his name on that monument...I'll just...have to..." Her brow furrowed, her heart skipped a beat, and her stomach churned all at the same time as she made a small revelation in that moment. Mari had been against wanting to hurt another player for the longest of times, but... there were people who deserved it. People who should be hurt. Oscar was proof of that. Beat was proof of that. Realizing that she had spent far too long staring at the man Mari cleared her throat. "Take care of that problem." A pause. "Much like you're going to take care of yours."

With a flash, Mari's weapon appeared in her hand, and with a flick of her wrist, the pointed end landed hard in the earth, penetrating the soft loamy soil. A black miasma seemed to extrude from the part of the blade that still sat above ground. She didn't...no. She shouldn't drink anymore. Mari most definitely wanted to keep drinking. But a tavern was not the answer. 

"NPCs aren't people." Mari repeated as she decided fuck it, and took another swig from her bottle.

[Lancaster 1]

He'd turn and take another puff and look her square "This much is true." Yet what he would not allude to is the purple ring on his left pinky finger with a smile. Grunting as he'd stand using the tree as a prop, not being nearly as graceful as most where. It was a bit slow and sluggish. The man shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, and in the light the gloss on it made it look almost metallic. "I abide by no prisons, doesn't matter which man made them." The man spoke with a cool tone, something absent of feeling and nearly empty. He'd stretch and something in his right side pops, having sat for a bit too long. Another puff as he'd wiggle it around, giving her at least the chance to make a decision. That name rang an immediate bell Oikawa, causing the cigarette in his mouth to tilt down and hang. The little trail of smoke being the only motion as he'd stare at the broad.

"Oikawa was a fine man of principle. You knew hi..." The sentence cut short as he saw her expression twist into a pained one. He couldn't help but place a hand on her shoulder. But that's all the comfort he would provide, mainly out of respect. "Then take it..." The cigarette springs back up as if excited by the notion. "Although I wouldn't put to much stock in that monument. Could be a fairy tale like everything else." The man responded bluntly as he'd start to walk off. Hearing a flash of a weapon called out as she'd clear her throat, the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Lancaster turns his upper body, staring at the woman over his shoulder. "Feel like a little danger, mostriciattola?" but he was waiting for her to start swinging.

"NPCs aren't people."

A smile creeped its way back across his face, a hand removed from his pocket as he'd finish of his smoke and drop it into the floor. A heavy boot stomps once and turns. "is a ricevimento! keep your distance once I get going. Until you get that harness fixed." Opening his HUD for the first time, he'd drag open the messages dismissed a few times prior. It would appear that the problem was in that stupid little village just outside of the Town of Beginnings. Apparently his crew were absolutely idiots. A flick of his wrist sends a small mote of flame, creating a gateway out of thin air as he'd speak out. "Location 3, After you, amore." Leading them to this tiny little shack out in the middle of the woods, a warp gate under their feet. The thing was completely totaled and falling apart but it served its purpose. Mari would likely immediately recognize her surroundings once the tree line broke.

*** Moved to Floor 1, Horunka ****

As the man walked he'd snap his fingers, then run the flame along his sleeve as if setting himself on fire. The coat catches and the flames run easily up his sleeves until he was walking kindling. Eventually they would reach the backside of the hodunk town, and Lancaster pops a cigarette in his mouth using his own shoulder to light it with a turn of his head. There was a small gaggle of about 10 orange players surrounded by a nice little battalion of yellow marker wearing goons. Shit strewn all over the road, fabrics, corn you name it. They were exchanging blows but each time one dropped, two more farmers came rushing in to respond to the PK'ers near a safe zone. This was going to end up being an extraction.

[Mari 1]

"Yeah." Mari said quietly. Tersely. Her guard up. She knew him, very well. It seemed Lancaster did too, at least to some extent. He reached out and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and Mari's taught muscles relaxed. He wasn't Oikawas enemy. Although Mari had an inclination that he misinterpreted their relationship, feeling a warm hand on her bare shoulder, rings hard against her flesh. "We weren't like that." Mari clarified. Oikawa did confess to her, but she hadn't reciprocated his feelings. He was a very close and dear friend. "He was - is - a good friend. I miss him." A pause. "If you know his whereabouts, send him my warm regards." Mari offered Lancaster a smile, missing the warmth as the man pulled his hand away. She wouldn't pry right now as to what their relationship was. The constant pings that were ringing in his ear were too much of a distraction.

"Feel like a little danger, mostriciattola?" 

Another swig was taken from the Whiskey. "I need to do something." Mari muttered. The sudden clash of feelings she felt wasn't pleasant. And venting her frustrations sounded like a very fine idea right now. Guards? NPCS? Sure, Mari didn't care about those - as long as he didn't start slaughtering innocent people. That Mari did have a very strong problem with. She took a stumbled step toward Lancaster - her shoulder bumping with his arm. "Aight. Bet." She said as she pulled her weapon from the ground.

Sometimes, it was easier to move forward than dwelling on disasters of the past.

Mari raised an eyebrow at the man as he seemingly summoned a flame that ignited into a gateway. The entire man was practically ablaze, and Mari felt a little envious - that was the kind of build she had once tried going for. "You're full of fun tricks, mia fiamma." The man was testing her language knowledge, that was for sure. Luckily thus far she had understood him, and even managed to banter back - although most her words were pet names. Not afraid of the flames Mari stepped through the portal with confidence. Her weapon hanging loosely on her shoulder.

 

As Mari stepped through to the other side she found herself on the first floor. Vertigo hit her like a truck and the woman stumbled forward several steps before righting herself. "What the fuck?" She had followed him to a small shack, shabby and run down - Mari recognized it. She stayed in it a few times three or four years ago now. Although it looked worse for wear now. Mold and rot ate away at the broken shards of wood, and what was left of the roof looked like it'd cave in at any minute. That's not what caused her outburst though. it was the second wave of nausea as they were flung to another location.

Some shabby town, Mari didn't really recognize. She tended to avoid them - especially the safe zones of the city. No wonder the man told her to stay back, his entire body was aflame. Damn it was a sight to behold. But...

Why were there so many PKers here?

"Lancaster?" Mari asked. She had to throw her whiskey in her inventory as she shifted her weapon in front of her. With her spare hand she pulled out an odd glass ball from a satchel behind her. Something very similar to what Atan had used in the past. Not as potent, but it would still do a good job.

"Please tell me our targets are the farmers - and not the players." Mari said tersely. She didn't know these Pkers. She wasn't even sure if she was being lead into a trap, if she was - she'd use her concoction 

Edited 1 hour ago by Mari

[Lancaster 1]

Staring up the competition as the battle would ensue, he'd find himself annoyed by having to take direct involvement because of their stupidity. What a glorious waste of his time. 

"Lancaster?"

He'd turn a bit to stare at the woman, her weapon perched precariously. Ah, she was concerned. That was the front liner in her front and center. The fact didn't surprise him in the slightest. "Those players are my men, Amore. Stricken with troubles just like..." A finger trails between them as he would gesture to them both. "However one of them is deficiente, and has put the lot in danger." He explains with a puff of smoke lingering in a little trail. "Understand I must set an example, for a single bad apple spoils the bunch." Stepping toward the gathering, he takes the cigarette in his hand and whistles. One of the many farmer turns and gets a cigarette tossed into his face at crazy speed. A ring on his hand alights with a snap of his finger and it detonates into a wave of heat that reduces the NPC to ashes. Lancaster kneels low as a couple garden implements come ripping toward him, dodging them with ease as he'd duck like a boxer. Lancaster lifts both hands toward his face in a pair of fists, even wiping his nose with his thumb matched with a smile.

"My turn, stronza." The man rips toward one on his left jamming an open right hand against his chest, sending a wave of combustion of his own image through the guy. A singular round ring of flame about the size of a plate appears after a few moments of it passing, before spiraling out in a wide sweep of heat. Meanwhile Lancaster slams his forehead into the Farmer on his right causing his HP bar to flicker into existence and in response he explodes into a column of orange flame. The ring slices through three before boomeranging back to which he catches out of the air, allowing it to spin off his wrist before grabbing it to bring it to a halt. 

[Mari 1]

Mari pursed her lips. "I can't hold judgement. Till I have all the information. Even so...this isn't my place." And it was true. She wouldn't condemn him for looking after his own men, and if one of his own men had caused this much chaos...there would have been an underlining reason why. She felt a little better now, knowing that she wasn't being lead into a trap. If the players were his men. Mari wouldn't interfere. It'd be like him interfering in her own business. She'd be right pissed off at it. 

Mari let him step forward - taking on the first wave of farmer NPCs, several old men, all dressed in similar dirty denim overalls. Another snap of his finger and Mari had to shield her eyes at the fiery explosion. In that instant the farmers were gone. Did he even need me here?  Mari thought, and then - no. He did not. She had simply tagged along, because he didn't deny her company. Perhaps it was a part of her loneliness that kept on leading her into these insane situations, she just kept following trouble because it was better than facing her own feelings at the bottom of a bottle.  

"Aight." Mari said as she took a step back and shifted to his left, seeing another wave of farmers come rushing over from the farmstead. "You and your men best stay back. Lest you get burned." She managed a smile his way. "Albeit without the fancy warmth of those flames though." And with that last sentence she ran toward the next few farmers. Three of them. Good, Mari had been wanting to test this...

With all her strength Mari threw the glass ball into the ground in front of the farmers. A plume of yellow smoke erupted - smelling of acrid sulfur, two of the farmers stopped in their tracks- screaming and spluttering before they fell to their knees - then to the floor - motionless. The third managed to avoid most of the noxious gas and kept running at Mari holding nothing more than a blunt garden hoe. Mari almost felt bad for the guy. If it weren't for the wild look in his eyes, the glob of spittle hanging from his chin, how he wildly screamed obscenities at her and tried to take a swing at her. Mari didn't bother dodging it - This was one of the lowest floors. She was on par with the highest. The damage was negligible. Rather - his hit managed to take all but 1HP. Mari's own health bar flickered briefly, as her battle healing kicked in she was back at full health. The woman could literally sit there for hours and take hit after hit and be nothing more than bored and annoyed.

 

With a single back step Mari swung her weapon, knocking the farmer to the floor with the blunt end of her polearm - then with another flick of her wrist she bought the axe down - clear across his neck. A clean cut. Mari winced, shifting away. The schlick sound was a little too much. She made a mental note to just jam her weapon into their chests instead of beheading them.

"oi oi oi oi oi...." Called out one of the Pkers. Mari glanced over her shoulder. A man who looked to be late 20's , early 30's - oh...he wast he man Lancaster was talking about. The one who caused this mess. He was laughing at her? Or was it the situation? He approached her, his own sword dragging in the dirt behind him. He gave her a hearty slap on her back. "Ayyy, its moves like that that get the jollies goin' ayy lass?"

"Get the fuck off me." Mari hissed as she jerked away from him. He sounded English, he sounded way too excited for this situation. It put Mari in a bad mood. So much for testing her experiments and venting her frustration. This man only made things worse.

"Whoa now....kitty got claws." He jested, then he picked up his own blade and tapped it against the side of her arm. A weak attempt at a threat. "Don't scratch too hard, else I might scratch back." 

...

Yeh...that was a weak attempt at a threat.

Mari tilted her head, hearing footsteps behind her. With a simple side step she dodged the farmer who tackled the man into the floor. he started screaming, struggling. Calling out for her help. "Oi oi oi! C'mere! Help a brotha out."


"Oh?" Mari asked as she circled him, her own weapon now sitting on her shoulder. "I thought you told me you'd scratch me..." She muttered. She was absolutely livid. This man clearly enjoyed hunting things, clearly enjoyed killing. It made her feel sick. Still... if he were to die here today. It would not be because of her. Mari swung her polearm down and dove it into the NPCs chest - a wave of erosion exploded from the point of contact, burning through the farmers clothing and causing a sick form of necrosis to splay out across his skin.

"Take Onus for your own damn actions."