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Post by Mammon on Dec 30, 2016 7:42:35 GMT
It all started in a distant town the name wasn't very important it was what happened there on that fateful day. Good vs evil, a story old as man and a story about to be retold tenfold.
The Heroes
It was fixing to be trouble out in the badlands the malevolent sun beat down, it's one cruel eye unblinking turning plant to husk and husk to dust, not even the bravest of lizards would crawl out in bad patch of sun like this. But here you stood a gang of misfits traveling out here looking to make your dreams come true, panning for gold, or just riding the great caravan roads to find yourself, or maybe to loose yourself, a man might find a great deal of many things out in this land. To say one thing it strips back the flesh to reveal what's truly there, make a man think.
You enter the town to the rustle of open air a single tumbleweed rolls itself across your path, it's deathly silent the buildings stand as silent witness to your entrance, nothing stirs. It would look abandon if not for the fresh look of the place, clothes hung on lines, fresh coats of paint marked the occasional door. It looked like a normal western town just minus the people. 'BANG' You hear the shrill barking of gunfire and you turn to see the telltale signs of motion, it's coming from the saloon.
The Villains
You laze idly in the shade of the saloon, a cool drink in your hand and the electrical buzzing of the neighboring ceiling fan, it doesn't do much for the heat but you're here for more than just the sites, you and your fellow marauders came not but a night ago and swept through the town like a plague, you pushed the poor people into service slapped chain and maniacal and sent them to work down in the mines. Hell of a thing gold fever.
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He sat there his leg's kicked up on a table his hat pulled down over his face, he was dressed in an all black outfit except for the touch of silver that dotted his shirt in spiral patterns. He wore a gun belt and at his side a long necked revolver, he had horns that poked out of holes in the brim of his hat and his eye's, they were the eyes of the devil open pits of red without even the touch of a pupil.
He sat up pushed his hat back of his head. "Bartender another drink." he raised his glass and smiled, well that wouldn't be accurate to say a smile has warmth and cheer, this however didn't and was more a lifting of the lip's a display of sharp canines that said without speaking in no uncertain tones 'I'm a man of simple pleasures, and cruelty'. "Put it on my tab." he laughed spitefully and turn his glance around the room and to his companions. "Ain't that right fellas, our tab."It was gonna be one of those days, it would end in a draw of a hand and a pine box six feet under. |
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Post by Big Train on Dec 31, 2016 2:08:34 GMT
[HWs ON: 5,753 PL]
In the brief moments before the gun shot, the revving of an engine could be heard throughout the small town. The Big Train was riding through. He immediately found it odd that the town was so empty. It was hot as hell but damn, there was NO ONE around. He was originally just on his way to the frozen north, but it seems like he may have gotten himself into yet another adventure. As soon as the shot rang out, Big Train would steer his metallic horse towards it.
Until he found himself straddling his bike outside of the saloon, he casually poofed his hover bike back into its capsule form and pocketed it. He was HOPING that the gun shot was not what he thought it was. But regardless he would stride from the dirt road and into the saloon, throwing forward both flaps of the swinging doors open. He would wait a dramatically brief moment before taking his first steps inside.
He was wearing a white and black doji that bared the symbol of the Zen School. But this was covered by his trusty weighted "Man With No Name" style brown and red poncho. His face was even more covered by his red mask, leaving only his mouth and goatee clearly visible. He would take a few steps inside and look around the saloon for the cause of the gun shot. His eyes in a squint would focus on each of the banditos, one by one.
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Post by Dantalion on Jan 1, 2017 6:15:21 GMT
A large black mass coiled in the darkest reaches of the Saloon, thin strips of White Thorns strode through the back of the cloak, a subtle red illumination all that could be used to make out the white Skulled Carapace. Underneath the tight holding blackened cloak, the large visible muscle mass could be made out, the red of the skin trying wit the vein to get noticed as his head twirled round and round, following the length of the Fan as boredom set in. A look of disdain shot towards Mammon for but a second, he could afford fancy clothing even a revolver. And here was Dantalion, a behemoth of a monster sitting crouched in the deep dark corner. And not for lack of wanting the spotlight. He had only arrived a few short minutes ago, Mammon's legendary class had led to Dantalion being given a note that simply read. Dantalion, in the desert at a bar. Can't miss it. It would be a lie if Dantalion was fond of these annoying missives with little to no information of where they were to rendezvous.
His head trailed along with little focus, the abnormal motions of the fan keeping his mind in a state of absent thought as the sickened whizz of the Fan rumbled through the building. His attention was drawn for a second towards Mammon as he expected a choir of laughter to ring like they were some of his gang buddies. Buddies being a loose term, more a sort of, forced friendship built on fear. Which in truth, was what most demon's thought friendship was. His attention snapped back to the fan as it let loose a single screech, wires twisting and turning as the fan dropped an inch, its motion stale and frozen as Dantalion let loose a cry, "No.... Damnit... When are we getting Aircon this place is too stinking hot for not fan..." he moaned, his body quickly dropping to the floor, a flash of red as he let his entire form mold with the ground, the cool body working its magic where the fan had once provided cooling, now the floor could do the same, though for how long was the question.
I need to stop going through with Mammon's hair brained schemes. he thought to himself, with the fan gone all the thoughts rushed through his mind as he laid flat on the stone floor. Last time we did one we almost got vaporized by a blue man. He continued, his mind a flutter with thought before a new one struck him, Speaking of which... "Mammon! What ever happened to that Blue man? Ya know, the one ya stabbed with ya horns?" he inquired, he didn't really have much else to say in truth, he was to taken aback by the shocking heat that infested this desert wasteland, he had spent most of his time in the Yunzabit Heights wasting away time and engaging in all zero activities that came with being up there.
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Post by Speenatch on Jan 11, 2017 10:54:52 GMT
Speenatch, meanwhile, was flying over the sands. Idly jamming to the tunes on his newly-purchased phone. No longer did he have to buy those pre-paid ones, now he had a proper cell plan, with data and unlimited calls and texts! He wasn’t getting much reception out here in the middle of the desert… But he had plenty of tunes downloaded to the device. And so he listened to a playlist of his own creation, a bunch of cheesy songs with simple lyrics and strong back-beats. Perfect dance faire. It was hard to dance “traditionally” while a few hundred feet above the ground. What he could do, though, was pull off a few fancy maneuvers. His body twisted and turned… going left, banking right, doing a few loops and spins. He even did a barrel roll! However, he soon found that, even while flying high above the desert sands… it was still quite hot. Now, heat meant sweat. Sweat meant he was losing water. Losing water made him thirsty. And so, his eyes began to scan the sands below him. Looking for any hint of civilization. His other senses scanned about, too… And he felt something. Quite a few higher powers all grouped nearby. Two felt familiar… ‘ Oh hey, Big Train an’ that horned alien, feels like. And they both feel so much stronger now! Guess they’re makin’ friends… Not sure who that third fella is, though.’ He decided to head in their direction, figuring that they were his best bet at finding civilization of some sort. Maybe one of them had a map. ‘ Oh, ya know what? I think I’ll surprise ‘em a bit! Best way ta test this out…’ He compressed his ki after saying this, crushing and holding back his power to almost nothing. Now, he would be just about undetectable to any ki sense or scouter. Or at least, that was the theory. A few minutes later, he found himself landing in a quaint little town. No roads, aside from dirt ones. All of the buildings were made out wood, and certainly weren’t in the style that he recognized. No curves, no smooth surfaces… these were squat squares with triangles on top of them. Not even big blocks like the skyscrapers of a city. And they were made out of… what appeared to be planks of wood. ‘ Huh… weird design. Must be an old place, cause I’m pretty sure I ain’t seen any buildin’s like this outside of REAL old photographs. The ones in tha history books. And I know I ain’t seen a buildin’ like this with ma own two eyes.’ As he walked across the ground, Speenatch was amazed at how… quiet it was. There didn’t seem to be anyone moving around. Not a single soul was out and about. He would have thought it was odd, but it was quite hot outside in the scorching sun. They might have all just been inside… ‘ But that don’t explain why I can’t sense anybody…’ He gave another few glances this way and that, trying to sense… somebody. Anybody… But there was nobody, aside from the three he’d sensed in the saloon. Plus one, far weaker power signature that only then began to make itself apparent. He narrowed his eyes a bit as he walked to the building labelled saloon, adjusting his shades on his face. And checking that his headphones were in his ears properly. However, as he pushed the doors open, something happened. His jam came on, or at least one of his many “jams”. With it, he lost any and all of the suspicion that had been growing. He also forgot to greet the familiar faces. Instead, he began to dance.
He danced in a most odd fashion, one that didn’t rely on his upper body for movement. Instead, it relied almost entirely on his legs. He hopped, he jumped, he skipped his legs to and fro. His pink-boot-covered feet kicked out, and he just had himself a whale of a time. ‘ Left-right, left-right, left-right…’ He thought, as his feet moved in time to the back-beat. With each repetition, his foot would jab forward. Toes and front pads slamming onto the floor of the saloon. Then he moved onto another series of moves. Always alternating, always keeping it fresh as he stomped and kicked his way over the, surprisingly cool, floor of the bar. Some highlights included... kicking one foot out as he spun around on the other, before kicking the floor with the same foot he’d moved out… kicking forward with one foot, while back-kicking with the other, repeating this motion twice, then switching feet… grabbing a knee shortly after a kick out, twirling, and releasing his leg to swing about in a wide arc… and many more, similar moves. Now, this was not without consequence, of course. Especially not in such a confined space. At some point, he must have messed up a card game or two, hit a few chairs and knocked them aside, and… was that a face that one of his boots mashed at some point? And, of course, for the poor floor, and anything on it… well there would have been a lot of heavy hits delivered to the aging wood. But, like all good things, the song came to an end. And Speenatch, to prevent himself from getting sucked into another song, paused the music function on his phone. Then he closed the app. Now, not only did the technology make him stand out. But so did the outfit. Everyone else was wearing such dark and drab colors… brown, black, maybe hints of grey or tan here and there. All in styles befitting a ranch or Western town. But him? The muscled little man was wearing a martial arts gi, a sleeveless one with the chest open a bit. Said gi consisted of a bright, aqua colored top, equally bright pants (orange ones), a neon green belt (just what rank could that be?) and boots. Hot pink boots. On his head was no hat. But he was wearing a pair of shades, cheap ones with red rims. He also had a mane of fluffy hair, in a sort of mullet-style, and a trimmed goatee on his face. The rest of his body seemed a bit hairy, with some dark brown hair covering his chest and arms. Except for the portions of said arms that wore black bands with yellow gems in the center. Bands that, to those that could sense it, might have reeked of some old magic. All in all, he didn’t look like he belonged. His accent… might have? “ Sorry ‘bout that! Really love tha song! Just had ta jam with it when it came on!” His eyes then focused on Big Train, and he made his way over to the taller fellow. He also held out a hand for a high five, followed by a fist bump if the man would permit it. “ Eyyyyy! Big Train! Ma Bromigo! Long time no see, man! And ‘ey, did ya get stronger? Cause ya seem like ya got way stronger.” He also spared a glance to Mammon, holding his hands out wide after giving his pal proper greetings. “ And if it ain’t tha alien fella from Satan City, how ya doin?” He “whispered” to Big Train immediately after… In a tone far too loud to be called a “whisper”. “ Careful ‘bout this one, buddy… He keeps tryin’ ta convince people he’s a demon. I think he might actually believe it…” He gave a shrug, before glancing around. He could have sworn he felt a third presence somewhere around there. And it certainly hadn’t been the bartender. “ Now uh… where’s tha third guy? Coulda sworn I felt a third guy…” He then glanced all around, glancing everywhere but the floor. (Thread PL: 17,778 Light Weights Applied: PL = Approximately 13,333) (Alright Mammon , I joined. Now ya got that even mix of villains and heroes ya wanted… now who goes next?) |
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Post by Mammon on Jan 11, 2017 22:48:53 GMT
He was about to engage in more western villain cliches when the saloon door rattled open, swinging back and forth on its hinges he shaded his eye's and adjusted to the light. "Well, what do we have here." he drawled in what one might call thee most offensive western accent this side Little Rita Of The West, the firelight of his eyes peeked out from under his hat and his teeth were visible under a half smile. "Come sit friend, have a hand." he patted the seat next to him for a moment before pulling out a set of playing cards, he shuffled them in his hand's with the light slapping of paper on paper before-
Godamn footloose walked through his door, out of all the bars in the world why did it have to be his. He watched as he kicked over a table tossed a drink in the air, he dropped the hand of cards as he watched this walking train wreck. "I am-" he was usually fine with playing the game of insults, but this guy this guy got on a nerve and tugged at it. "-a demon!"
He jumped up and almost shouting at the man. "I can't speak in the presence of ringing bells, I must answer questions truthfully if asked three times!" he was just screaming, this man in the space of entering the bar had made him snap. "I have glowing red eyes and horns, for god sake's I can be bound in a circle with my sigil on it!" he jumped up and down on the floor his spurs making a clicking sound.
"You neanderthal, I didn't cross the space between realms to be insulted like this!" he went on for a little while his chest rising and falling as he took deep breaths, he needed to calm down. He reached over the counter snatched up a bottle and drain in dry with a wet throaty sound, he stood there for five seconds before turning back to Speenatch. "What do you want?"
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Post by Big Train on Jan 12, 2017 3:05:16 GMT
Now what a surprise! And a pleasant one at that. It was Big Train’s good buddy, Mister Steel, who dropped in out of no where. Literally, he must have learned how to suppress his power. The last Big Train remember, Speenatch was quite a bit stronger than him. Man, now Big Train had to learn that. Big Train would never tell him but Speenatch inspired Big Train to learn how to sense power levels after their first meeting.
At the current moment, Speenatch was making a mess of things. But Big Train just smiled ‘It’s been a while, I’ll have to get his number this time’ Big Train thought. When Speenatch greeted him Big Train would reply “Hey! Mister Steel! It’s been too long, man. You must have gotten strong!”. What Speenatch said next seemed to really piss their host off, as he started jumping around and shouting.
Big Train would let the man have his temper tantrum before continuing “Let me show you something...”. He wanted to impress Speenatch, after all, the two would make a great tag team. So he pushed his legs apart widened his stance, setting up a strong base as he bent his knees slightly, squatted down a bit. He closed his eyes and briefly entered a minor meditative state, letting his energy flow through his body. His pure white, crystalline aura leaked out from him. It faintly started to glow tight around his body as Big Train’s power level started to amplify. As his power level steadily raised, his aura burned brighter and brighter. His mastered focus brought his power level up by a multiple of three. Eventually making it stationary, halting at 17,259.
Big Train would slap his chest repeatedly, indicating to the weighted poncho that was wrapped around his form, “And that’s only one fourth of it thanks to these weights” now he was just showing off. But he was proud of the power and control that he has gained. Training on his own and under several masters really helped him. His poncho was hiding his Zen School doji that he wore underneath. The last time he met Speenatch his power was only a fraction of what it was now. “I joined the galactic patrol and I'm training under its leader, Beryl. He’s SO strong, man” Big Train was giddy. “Oh yeah-” he turned and glanced at the two demons, a more serious look on his face, “Where are all the town’s people?”. He stared at him hard for the briefest of moments before continuing two more repeats “Where are all the town’s people? Where are all the town’s people?”.
[Mastered Focus(x3) activated PL: 17,259]
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Post by Dantalion on Jan 12, 2017 8:59:19 GMT
Dantalion's chest heaved in and out, pronouncing his upper chest as he laid flat, almost encumbered by the invisible weight of the heat. He slowly raised his head up, his skulled carapace barely hovering above his chest line as he looked at some Redman in a crazy get up approaching. Didn't even get dressed up for the party. He thought to himself, as he scanned the man up and down. The garnet light shone brightly the tips of his horns peeking over more visibly than his face as he slowly lowered his head down with a thud. It was too hot to deal with all these nuisances he had to cool down and escape the blistering heat of the Diablo Desert.
Then came a new man, a man who danced with frantic movements, kicking up the place as the wood creaked and groaned under his burdensome footsteps. Kicking the place up it had caused a fuse to snap in Mammon, understandable to say the lease, if he had a bar and someone caused chaos he too would not be happy. Though that did not mean he was unhappy. There was a reason the floor hadn't caved in so quickly, Dantalion's mass took up quite a large portion of the floor, lying straight in the center underneath where the fan was. And it was with this location came a series of kicks and punts to Dantalion.
Mammon started his partial anger mostly ego driven tantrum, kicking and screaming and overall making an ass of himself. Dantalion had a different approach. Slowly he rose from his slumber, shocks of electricity started to snap and flare around him, green Ki pulsed through his veins as slowly his body began to levitate upwards, an audible groan from the wood as it was given short respite from the hulking form. His face came into full visibility the hood of the bed sheet pulled down as contusions were visible along his neck, red skin mixed with white bone as he glared spears into the man's back, his form hunched over as an audible snap was made on the surface of the wall from one of his Thorns that straddled down his spine.
He took in a heavy breath, air torn from the room as he towered over the night dwarf-like man. As he pulled in the air he held it in his lungs before releasing a black haze through his mouth and nostrils. The only sight that could be seen was the intangible garnet light that permeated from his eye sockets. A single arm rose planting itself on the dwarf's shoulder as his jaw unhinged with jittery motion. A loud baritone voice echoed his jaw unmoved as he spoke, "Jackass..." he said through the haze, the green sparks of electricity beginning to stride along and through the haze of tar-like mist. "I'm right here." he continued on, cracking his neck as he pulled his head back, the garnet light fading for a few seconds before crashing his skull through the mist, a few inches away from the mans head as his head turned to the side, his bone teeth twisting and contorting into a long drawn out smile. If he had skin one might call it a toothy opened smile, but with the lacking of skin, it was harder to achieve. "Mind telling me why you decided to kick me in the face?" he inquired, his eye sockets shifting into diagonal slits of red as he stared the man down. He couldn't sense his fairly higher power level, but at the very least he felt he deserved an apology.
Speenatch | Big Train
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Post by Speenatch on Jan 13, 2017 2:39:13 GMT
Speenatch just listened as Big Train engaged in some idle catching up. A bit of high-fiving, chit-chat... and then Big Train apparently had something to show him. The squat fellow just gave him a nod and grin... while hoping it wouldn't do too much damage to the bar around them. Whatever it was... His eyes grew wide behind his sunglasses as he watched, and felt, Big Train's new "trick"... Now, Speenatch didn't have a scouter on hand to read the numbers of the power up. But, his ki-sense could give him a good feel for things in a general sense. So he knew that, at the very least, the young luchador had increased his power by at least three times... The mulleted man with the rockin' shades tried not to gape when he heard that this was only a fourth of Big Train's current power... ' Dagnabit! At only a quarter of his power, he's already stronger'n me at my maximum! ...What, is everyone just gonna pass me by, then?' Out loud, he tried to recover. Putting on his trademark grin and giving a laugh that he hoped wasn't too nervous... " Heheheheh... That's good man, lotta improvement there. Yer almost as strong as me now... When I'm at full power that is. Right now I'm testin' out hidin' it, ya know?" Thankfully, his nervous blabbering was interrupted by two demons in a row. First there was Mammon, not taking kindly to Speenatch's assertions that he was not an actual demon. Despite his rage and hissy-fitting, the short man with a big personality still believed he was just a strange alien. After all, there were plenty of non-human races with horns. And plenty with weird eyes. For all he knew, Mammon just came from a planet where his race had both. First, he gave a brief aside to Big Train... " See, what'd I tell ya?" He held up a finger to the side of his head, twirled it around, and gave a few sharp whistles... the universal sign for signalling that someone was loco, kookoo, not quite all there... But, right after doing so, he turned to actually answer the exasperated question the wannabe-villain gave to him. " Oh, I were just passin' through, y'know? Felt a few familiar people, felt a bit o' thirst, figured I'd drop on in!" He was about to continue, but the second interruption came in at that point. An oozing, malevolent darkness that rose from behind. He could feel it, a power level near his own coming forth. With fog, lightning... and a most evil voice. And it sounded annoyed... Now, to his credit, Speenatch didn't scream like a little girl when the hand landed on his shoulder. Or when the face with no skin was shoved towards him. Instead, he just gave a smile, a shrug, and a shaking of hands that he held out somewhat defensively. " Aw, yeesh man... I really did a number on ya, huh?" As he said this, his eyes focused on the poor fellow's contusions and... splinters? Bruises? Something like that. " Well listen, I'm sorry. You uh... ya need an icepack? A lift ta the hospital? What about a drink? I got the Zeni fer it!" Mammon Big Train Dantalion |
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Post by Mammon on Jan 13, 2017 6:55:52 GMT
Post: 1
KP: 3/3
PL: 21,942
Up to: No good
Celestial Event: N/A
Ignored it thrummed through his head like the tolling of a bell, he was being ignored. He drew in a deep breath letting it out a second later and drew in another his chest rose and fell as he centered himself speaking a mantra out loud. "I am calm, I am centered and am in control." he ground his teeth with the fervor of one who isn't calm, and he changed one moment a fuming demon the next a soft-spoken seducer. "Isn't that the big question, where are the people?" he paused a moment to let silence fill the space of word's letting his next ushered in with dramatic airs. "I can tell you one thing, they ain't here."
He sat down kicked up his leg's and unraveled a small pouch of tobacco and paper cut into fine white strips, the color of a hot day at the beach. "So welcome to my town." he said rolling it in the paper needing it until out of the mess came a cigarette, he placed it in his mouth with a wet popping sound and fixed the two with an even stare. "So boys now that you're in our humble little town." the cigarette sparked to lazy life glowing hot embers in the shade of his wide-brimmed hat.
"Bartender, fetch our guests something to drink." he said looking to the barmen with a knowing smile, the man avoided his gaze like a whipped dog beckoned to his master's commands. "I hope you two don't plan to do something unreasonable." he pulled up the brim of his hat and his grin was ear to ear, it was the smile of a hunting cat knowing and full of cruel mirth. "Wouldn't want that." he closed his hand's and made a slender knife no bigger than his pinky appear, one minute an empty hand the next a knife. Oh sure if one was looking close enough he just pulled it out of his sleeve and did something a close cousin to jazz hands, but who watched things closely enough.
Drinks appeared on the counter, they frothed with white and had the color of amber. "Enjoy." the demon said tending to his nails with the knife. "On the house."
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Post by Big Train on Jan 13, 2017 22:52:14 GMT
Big Train would continue his banter with Mister Steel before he shifted into his seriousness. He would nod with his goofy and friendly demeanor, "That's still something I need to learn, man! We still need to spar one of these days". Big Train was still convinced that Speenatch was stronger than him. He briefly wondered what other cool techniques the great warrior might have learned. But in the current moment, it seemed like conflict might be inevitatable.
Noticing the larger demon for the first time would be enough to make most men shake in their boots. But Big Train just turned his glance towards the hulk of a monstrousity and gave him a stern look, as if saying 'I dare you to make a move'. If Big Train wasn't so focused, perhaps Dantalion's intimidation would've worked on him. It seemed like Mister Steel gave him a good mark or two. BT's head would then slowly turned back to its original point, glaring a hole through Mammon as he carried on like a mad man. The big teen was incredibly intimidating when he wasn't being so eccentric. He even seemed bigger.
Big Train ignored the drinks, the only acknowledgement was to the bartender himself. Besides, he wasn't old enough to drink yet. He debated on asked the bartender, but thought better of it. He didn't want to go the man anymore involved than he already is. Instead he took a few paces forward, closing the distance between himself and the demon, Mammon. "Just tell me where the people are" he did not and would not play around when it came to innocent people potentially being hurt. It was clear that Big Train was not about to play by Mammon's rules. If he even had any. After all, Big Train asked three times and Mammon gave him a half truth. Perhaps he was just an alien. Either way, demon or not, Big Train was not amused by his coyness.
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Post by Dantalion on Jan 14, 2017 5:27:54 GMT
The idea rolled through his mind for a bit, he might not have gotten an apology for getting punted to the face but an offer of Zeni resolved most issues in the world. His head bent in the mist, quickly his jaw unhinged taking in a heavy breath as he started to suck and sap the haze back into his gullet. His head twisting back and forth at odd and uneven angles as his eye sockets bent around turning from the hostile diagonal slits back to a passive open glare. A few seconds passed, the feeling of Ki welling up in his body beginning to dissipate as the crackles of lightning began to vanish with the haze, some even following along the length of mist back into his gullet tinging the inside of his jaw with lengthy black marks.
He dawdled for a bit, his arms folding as he ran a digit along the length, an audible tapping as small depression followed into his skin. "Well then... If ya offering Zeni, how can one stay mad," he said with a warm baritone voice, as he took a seat on the ground, still reaching up to Mammon as he crossed his legs, a palm opened wide as his head cocked to the side. "Two Hundred Zeni should be enough." he responded, he had no intention of antagonizing as some others might, acting cocky could either get him killed or revoke the offer he was given.
Though it seemed another had full intention of Antagonizing. His garnet lights ceased for a second his head bending down looking almost as if he had just become apart of the deceased. In truth, he was thinking about what Mammon had just done, Son of a bitch... Why does he always antagonize... For a few seconds, he remained thinking of reasons why he would do that and the same answer arriving. He wanted to stroke his ego, it was becoming problematic. He stroked his ego more often than a teenager who just learned about internet porn. After his contemplation his eyes flickered to life, his head shaking back and forth as he watched the barkeep get the drinks, preparing them as he set them down on the counter. "Yes please, we let us not cause a fuss. Yall can have ya drink, then hit the road." he continued, hoping that if he didn't antagonize he wouldn't have to deal with losing the sweet gig that Mammon had promised.
But it seemed that plan was quickly tossed out the window as Lucha Libre el Homeadora got involved in the scuffle, adamant to find out what had happened to the townsfolk. Dantalion let loose a sigh looking to Mammon and giving a shrug that simply meant 'We gonna have to fight?' at least that is the message Dantalion hoped got across.
Big Train | Speenatch
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Post by Speenatch on Jan 14, 2017 8:37:44 GMT
Speenatch lost his smile for a moment before replying to Dantalion's request... " Ey, buddy... I ain't gonna just straight up give ya two hunnerd zeni. If ya want a drink worth two hunnerd zeni, er yer hospital visit costs two hunnerd zeni... then I'll pay fer those. I'll even pay if they wind up bein' worth more... But I can't just give ya money after askin' fer fergiveness, ya know?" He gave a shrug to the "demon"... who, thankfully, seemed more calm. Maybe he'd be willing to listen to reason and cut out another deal? It was looking like just buying him a drink wasn't going to work... He and his... buddy? Boss? He and his fellow "demon" seemed to have the run of the joint. Which meant they were probably getting drinks for free. Then Big Train made moves to antagonize the easily riled Mammon. Although Mammon seemed only easily riled when he wasn't getting the chance to play out his... cowboy fantasy? ' Wut, is he tryin' ta be some sorta movie villain? Live out a fantasy he watched on the silver screen? Er a computer?' Another sigh came from the short fellow, as he realized what that half-truth meant. And, before Big Train could get in a fight that would level the bar and possibly kill the only bystander, he interjected. " Big Train, ma man... Don't ya know nothin' about gettin' the truth outta demons? Ya gotta be specific... Otherwise they'll only tell ya what they hafta!" He still didn't believe any of that demon talk at all. But he figured if he was specific enough and Mammon still didn't give him an answer, then he wasn't really a demon. And, if nothing else, he could teach Big Train a little something about playing a part. " Just watch..." He added, with a confident smirk... " What's the one thing about yerself that yer most ashamed of and wouldn't want anyone ta know? What's the one thing about yerself that yer most ashamed of and wouldn't want anyone ta know? What's the one thing about yerself that yer most ashamed and wouldn't want anyone ta know?" Following that, the short man folded his muscular arms. All while maintaining his smirk. There, now if Mammon was a demon, or truly believed he was, then he'd have to answer that more specific question... ' Which means then we can ask where tha people are. If we're specific about it. Just askin' fer the exact location an' all...' Mammon Big Train Dantalion |
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Post by Mammon on Jan 14, 2017 9:25:32 GMT
Post: 1
KP: 3/3
PL: 21,942
Up to: No good
Celestial Event: N/A
He looked up at the approaching Train, put on his best smile which wasn't very good and only loosely related to a smile, like how technically a cat is related to a lion you just wouldn't pet one. "Tell me where the people are." he mimicked in mocking tones making his voice shrill and nasally, he let out a low rumbling chuckle and pointed his knife towards him. "What would you do if I said no?"
He turned his gaze to Dantalion, and shook his head from side to side directing the small gesture towards Dantalion, he wouldn't be the one to throw the first punch he was confident in his abilities, and after all if they did somehow put him down who'd tell them where the people were.
He listened as Speenatch, spoke his question and he was not pleased by it in the least. "I-" he opened and shut his mouth he clamped down his teeth and pressed his gnarled finger's to his jaw trying to keep it shut, but no matter the vice it simply was impossible he might as well have tried to disobey gravity, his mouth opened and a forked tongue flicked out fanning the air before he reluctantly spoke. "I was bound in a circle for five days by some goths." he spoke the words reluctantly like ever letter every sound was a new unfamiliar pain. "I was made to do tricks for their amusement for almost a week." his eye's narrow to pinpricks of hateful light staring daggers at Steel. "Do not compel me again mortal, or I shall flay the flesh from you still living."
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Post by Big Train on Jan 14, 2017 22:38:24 GMT
Paying no mind to the extortion attempt. And equally as little mind to Mammon's childish mocking. Big Train wouldn't have his composure waned that easily. He grew up hearing worse from nuns! Never mind the other kids at the orphanage. No, instead he would watch closely the exchange between Mister Steel and Mammon. Goths... that truly was impressively embarrassing. It seems like ol' Speenatch was right, what a worldly fellow.
Had to be more specific, aye? Who knew that demons have loop holes for their own rules. Big Train didn't get it, but he wasn't about to question things he didn't fully understand. This was his first ride at this kind of rodeo. Alright then, let's try and give it another go. His face shifted and scrunched up. Pondering for a moment, sighing In the process before he sparked to life. The kind of reaction that would make you expect an exclamation mark to appear over his head. But this isn't a silly anime or something like that.
"In what exact location are the people of this town right now? In what exact location are the people of this town right now? In what exact location are the people of this town right now?". We'll see if that one worked. Big Train wanted to avoid fighting. While he was always up for a challenge, fighting here would just destroy these people's homes. The two demons did not seem like pushovers, however. So Big Train was ready to defend himself if needed. Taking a very minimalistic stance, his feet wide and only half of his body angled towards Mammon. A well versed martial artist might recognize it as a defensive stance.
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Post by Dantalion on Jan 15, 2017 7:11:22 GMT
"Look. YOU offered me Zeni." he responded, heavy emphasis on the word you as he drew it out, letting him realize it was never his idea. "In case you haven't noticed. I am an eight-foot red-skinned demon with a skull for a face. I can't earn Zeni with a job." he continued on, thinking up reasons as to why he 'deserved' Zeni after such a violent skull smashing party to the tune of footloose. "So, I need you to pay me Zeni, so when I need it, I don't have to go robbing banks and destroying cities to pay for it." he continued, a wry smile forming along the length of his skull face. It was a bit capricious, to say the least, but damn it he needed Zeni and couldn't manage to get any from a job down at the local non-existant supermarket. "I mean. Unless you think people's lives aren't worth a mere Hundred and Fifty Zeni." a brow raised, it might not be worth that much to him but he had hoped that someone who he assumed to be a good guy would at least consider a human life worth more than that.
Then came the inquiry, it seemed the dwarf was smarter then Dantalion gave him credit for, though he had also yet to give him any credit for intelligence. Dantlaion quickly eyed around, he knew that Mammon had some strange things going on. Mammon always said he had to but Dantalion had never heard of a Demon needing to answer a question if asked three times. But there were more than just one way to take advantage of Mammon. Dantalion quickly moved a hand through his cloak pulling out a single ornate bell. In truth, it was just a Bell with a few pieces of fake jewelry glued on that he had taken from one of the children of the small western town.
The bell chimed a methodical tune, Dantalion looking between the two as his jaw lowered, hanging agape as he decided to take control of the situation as best he could, hoping to draw their attention. "Now now. Let us not get all hasty right now. We still haven't had our drinks." shades of Mammon taking over as he tried in vein once more to defuse the situation, it seemed that Big Train was a bit of a grumpy guy considering he got his poncho so quickly in a knot. Though in truth he was hoping to simply slip their attention away from Mammon, if he could get one hit on the two then at least the element of surprise would be on their side.
Big Train | Speenatch
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