Hala
Archived
PL: 1,300
Demonic Will (x3) Makyo Star (x8)
Zeni: 2,236
Tag: @hala
OOC Name: Vio
Posts: 12
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Post by Hala on Jan 1, 2017 21:22:56 GMT
So, There’s a Pub Called “The Wild Goose”… Power Level – 1,300
Word Count – 495
“So that’s the moon, huh? Looks –hic– familiar,” a rough voice slurred. Perched rather precariously upon a boulder, ivory locks sparkling like fresh snow in the moonlight, Lady Hala eyed the overbearing orb of silver that illuminated the starry night’s sky. Earth’s cyclic satellite had yet to burn its presence into the woman’s mind, though that was mostly because she was far too inebriated to care of such an object. It served, to the best of her knowledge, as little more than an ornament in the obscurity that was the dark and vast inkiness of space. Why would she take interest in it if all it did was change shape and shine a ghostly shade of white? It was nothing compared to the vigorous, malevolent coruscations of the Makyo Star!
“Wait… –hic– I recognise it now! Sort of…,” she muttered: “Eh, f*€% it… –hic– How can anyone find that pretty?” Gourd in hand, the scarlet–skinned siren raised the curious canteen to her lips and threw the whole thing back. Somehow, by some miracle, not a single speck of the rich rice wine within was spilt as she took a few loud gulps of the substance. Several seconds passed before the devilish damsel finally surrendered the sake to another necessity, named air. Even Demons needed to breathe, the Gelidra Clanswoman no exception to said rule. After a rather vulgar rumble of escaping gas was let loose from her throat, she took in a deep drag of the salty island air. It had a strange taste to it; something which she had never gotten used to in all her time spent meandering through the realms of the Earthlings.
“Ah, that hits the spot~! Now, uh, –hic– what was I doing…? Oh, yeah! Wait, no,” escaped indecisive intonations. Conscience and consciousness clouded by an alcoholic haze, Hala’s words were only comprehensible by virtue of sheer luck at this point. The events of the last twenty four hours – perhaps more – were more or less a jumbled mess of jigsaw pieces with no picture to go off. She would have been lucky to find a corner in that confusion! Still, she moved to head somewhere, but ended up toppling backwards and landing spreadeagled on the cool grass.
Were it not for some vague semblance of drive burning within her (or was that the rum from earlier?) the Demoness could well have let her drunken stupor drag her into the depths of slumber. But alas, she pushed on, rolling over onto her stomach before pushing herself up off the ground. So heavily did she misjudge her actions that she almost ended up flopping straight over onto her back again, but a flurry of hands before her somehow let her claim stability. She blinked, hiccoughed, stretched and then began to trek haphazardly across the island. All the while, she searched high and low, but eventually impatience and boredom got to her.
To the skies she yelled: “Where the f*€% is it!?”
An open thread for some folks to join! This’ll be the first step in what I hope to be Hala’s overarching story, so I wonder what unfortunate souls are going to have to deal with this forgetful drunkard!
Lady Hala (66023c)
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Post by Arlic Valliere on Jan 2, 2017 7:44:07 GMT
[PL 'Bout 32k with some medium weights on. Doubt they'll fight anyway but hey who knows.]
The older Saiyan wasn't doing much this time of year, Sheriff or not action came slow and rare up in the far North. So any chance he got the fighter would slip down to the islands to do a spot of fishing and enjoy the warm air. A man might love the bracing chill of the mountains, and savor the rough, wild beauty of it. But if it wasn't colder then a witch's tit in a brass bra, then he was a Namekian. It was a good night for it too, already a brace of wiggling sea fish were strung on a line in the water. He'd probably continue to catch fish long into the morning if a sudden bout of yelling didn't startle every living thing in a five mile radius.
Tossing the fishing pole onto the grass, the grizzled man stood up with a stretch. Letting bones then joints pop and creak after sitting for so long having hardly moved. The man was tall and lean for his race, even if the encompassing duster helped bulk the man's figure out. Scarlet scarf, sash, and low brimmed hat completing the entire 'Sheriff' motif. Taking off, it was a matter of moments before his scouter chirped and registered a power level far beyond the average life forms on Earth.
"Oi, what're ye hollering about redskin?" He called, boots landing on a rocky outcropping. Broad arms crossed over chest as the veteran looked the devil girl up and down with an appraising eye. As if making sure he wasn't about to get shot. It'd happened before, you never did know with demons. "The hell you lookin' for lass?"
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Hala
Archived
PL: 1,300
Demonic Will (x3) Makyo Star (x8)
Zeni: 2,236
Tag: @hala
OOC Name: Vio
Posts: 12
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Post by Hala on Jan 2, 2017 17:31:25 GMT
Power Level – 1,300
Word Count – 416
“What’re ye hollering about, Redskin?” was not the response that Lady Hala had expected. Indeed, she was somewhat startled by the sudden answer, peering left and right before turning around and meeting the source face to face. A man, human in look but reminiscent of something else that had long since slipped her mind, perched himself rather neatly on a rocky outcrop nearby. His outline blurry thanks to the Demoness’ beer goggles she tilted her head a bit in a vain attempt to correct her visual impairment. Instead, all she wound up doing was making the situation more disorientating, causing a vague sliver of a second man to appear slightly left of centre.
“What am I look –hic– …looking for?” Hala scratched her head: “Oh! That’s right! I’m –hic– looking for a… Uh…?” The drunken damsel raised a hand, index pointing up as if to emphasise something. Unfortunately, the look on her façade did not at all match the certainty of her extremities, nor did the delirium to which she was still subject. Vague flashes of thought and memory came to bear, but were just as quick to scatter as they were to flock. For a moment she just stood there, pulling a variety of different facial expressions that silently painted a picture only Picasso could be proud of. Looks of befuddlement, recognition and thoughtfulness each took a turn before the ruddy revenant shook herself free of her confusion.
“I don’t remember…,” she admitted slowly, puffing her cheeks a little before taking another hefty swig of sake. It was in the process of such an act that a flash of clarity dared to reveal itself to her – a brief by bright glimpse of exactly what it was she was hunting for. So sudden was her epiphany that she very nearly spat her drink back out, but instead managed to seal her lips beforehand, face wide like a startled pufferfish before she downed the alcoholic mouthful.
“I remember! Sort of…!” The white–haired woman wobbled on her feet, waving the gourd in some sort of vague celebratory gesture for reasons unbeknownst. To be absolutely frank, there was no way she was going to recall any of the night’s events, let alone place a solid bead on the target of her scouring. Nonetheless, that brief flash of certainty had her locked onto some sort of inevitable end point, and it was to the cowboy in the moonlight that she directed her slurred pleas.
“You, what’s –hic– your name…?”
Hey, Arlic Valliere! Thanks for joining in on this one! Your thread PL should be 32,833 if you’re wearing Medium Weights!
Lady Hala (66023c) Arlic Valliere (850a0a)
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Post by Mammon on Jan 2, 2017 18:36:08 GMT
PL: 21,942 KP: 3/3
It started with a lone whistle that of the wind at distant sea, and the heavy 'thump' 'thump' of drums and then 'Mmmmhhh mhmm, yeah yeah' it came as the first sonorous sounds of a siren, it appeared first as a silhouette on the horizon line, it gained definition as it drew closer the boat was straight out of a child's picture book. It was an old timer, a veteran of the brine the old planks stained in the sort of thing that made anyone aboard want to exclaim 'something smells fishy'. It looked like it could've been the less pretty stunt double of the boat from jaws.A voice called acoustically to the heavy thrum of a guitar 'You've been down too long in the midnight sea' it came up to the shoreline tossing brine and a few slow-moving or stupid fish onto the shore, the ever present puttering sound of a dying engine that should belong in a museum rather than in the water, and if the boat look untrustworthy its captain looked like the used car salesmen at sea and boy did he have a deal for you. "Oh hoy !" called the figure behind the wheel he came into view he had two twisted horns that crowned his head, a dark suit with a Peaked cap balanced on his head and he wore teashade glasses upon his nose to reveal the firelight of his eye's, they actually glowed so it gave him the appearance of discount Davy Jones.He strutted across the deck of the ship with the attitude of the self-absorbed, and stood at the prow as it beached itself and jumped down to the cry of Dio on the ship's radio 'Holy Diver!'. Dramatic entrance check, looking good while doing it check, check. Or so he thought and he thought only his opinion mattered, so it checked out. "I have one question for you, what do you want?" He approached the two with a feline smile that showed too many pointed teeth."And thanks for asking, they call me Mammon." And there was silence the ship's radio finishing the song, say one thing for the demon say he is dramatic as all hell, literally. He stood there a moment withdrew a cigar the size of a babies arm stuck it in his mouth with a wet popping sound. "Got a light?"
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Sylaris
Newcomer
PL: 1,000
Demonic Will (x3), Makyo Star (x8)
Zeni: 500
Tag: @sylaris
OOC Name: Blade Unlimited
Posts: 8
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Post by Sylaris on Jan 4, 2017 19:15:22 GMT
(OOC: mammon I think you might have to change your intro post a little to avoid some unallowed content. Though DIO is an epic band, It doesn't really exist in DB so you might need to change the fact that the song is playing both OOC and IC.
*Couldn't find accurate substitute for the word "Satan" so did my best. Take it with the same meaning as if he just called yah: "Satan"~ )
PL: Not Available This thread takes place before Sylar received his starting PL; any PL related combat will result in an immediate forfeit.
This sucked... no this really sucked. On a scale from one to ten, one being living a quiet, fulfilling life and ten being marooned WHO KNOWS HOW MANY years in the past with a headache the size of Satan Tower, this BROKE THE SCALE. " UUUURGH! This is so lame." Sylaris moaned to himself as his feet trudged along the ground, his hair whetted down with some sort of fluid that had expelled from his broken ship and his "stylish" jacket and pants looking quite ruffled. The normally optimistic young demon had been meandering his way with no real place or purpose for the past three hours of so with no luck whatsoever on even finding out where he was... or when. " URGH!!! I wish I stayed at home..." The teen demon mumbled to himself while scratching at the back of his azure hair furiously hoping to funnel out some of his frustration. " I don't care about where I'm from or my parents or saving this stupid Marcel person anymore. I don't even care about finding a hot babe! No woman on earth is nearly hot enough to make all of this-this SHIT worth i-" Just as he was about to continue screaming into the night, Sylar eyes completely froze in place. The sounds of music whistling in the night drew his initial attention, but what kept it locked in quite the most contradictory of senses was in fact the form of a beautiful woman. Pointing up at some sort of thing in the sky, the girl's lush white mane length hair and busty form made the young man's eyes practically bulge from his sockets. ... ... Folding his arms for a second in deep thought, Sylaris bit his lips while considering the circumstances... " ...okay. Rebuttal." The smirking demon thought to himself, almost completely ignoring the actually demonic fellow and the cowboy barely a meter away from Hala as well. " Get a load of that rack! And doth mine eyes deceive me, she looks drunk as well~" Unfolding his arms before casually sauntering closer until he was well within sight, Sylar murmured underneath his breath. " Target acquired. Rebuttal duly noted." Slicking back his hair in an attempt to make it look more presentable, the action resulting in the azure locks forming back into their original spiked formations almost like magic, Sylaris' buff abs and arms glistened in the dim moonlight while his eyes seemed to glow a mysterious scarlet hue. " Howdy partner~ Makaio*~" He humerously commented to the two before sidling up to Hala with a wave. " And hello you~ I'm sorry I just couldn't help noticing your, ah, less than sober state and was wondering what a stunning lass like yourself was doing out here all alone with such a rough crowd~" Sticking out his hand in an attempted handshake, Sylaris' lips curled into an almost demonic grin. " Name's Sylaris. And what can I call the vividly red hottie right in front of me?~" Hala Arlic Valliere
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Post by Arlic Valliere on Jan 4, 2017 21:28:57 GMT
The old fighter's scouter clicked twice, briefly registering that for some odd reason, it was just one of those nights where nothing ended up well for him. Not one, not two, but three demons interrupting his fishing trip. One being drunk, and the other two a bit...sleazy. Where's that damn salamander when you need her? he thought to himself, about a demonic friend made years ago who, unlike these three, didn't look like he'd have to toss into the drunk tank back home. "'Ere lad, smoke meself." The Sheriff reached up with his prosthetic limb, snapping fingers and letting the metal clicking off metal start the comically large cigar to smoldering. Furry appendage, the telling sign of a Saiyan, unwound from his waist and found his own pack of cigarettes. Flicking one up towards thin, scarred lips as it lite up.
"I'm Sheriff Valliere." He made sure he brushed his duster open enough to show the badge hooked onto his belt. The crimson glassed scouter showing power levels, then checking for any outstanding warrants. Surprised none of them were to be arrested, but glad he wouldn't have to fill the prison up with a demon. Did they have diplomatic immunity? Blowing smoke, and the thought, out, the grizzled man addressed Sylaris. "Why are ya dressed like yer mad at your mom? Didn't nobody tell ye the emo scene phased out about ten years ago lad, put a damn shirt on."
Broad hand helped keep Hala up, tottering and swaying as she was; the Sheriff had a vague idea of what to expect from demons due to his run ins with just about every race and species the galaxy had to offer. He usually ended up arresting them, or beating them into a bloody pulp. Then arresting them. The Sheriff Saiyan made a point to gesture at all three of them in turn, drunk, sleazy, or weird they might be. "You got a license for that thing, son?" He asked Marron, leaning over to check the dock registration on the side of the vessel. "Don't bother, ain't met a demon yet who has a license of anythin'. Help me find w'ever this Redskin's hollerin' 'bout and we'll call it square. Same goes for you, Mr.Jacket sized for a kid."
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Hala
Archived
PL: 1,300
Demonic Will (x3) Makyo Star (x8)
Zeni: 2,236
Tag: @hala
OOC Name: Vio
Posts: 12
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Post by Hala on Jan 4, 2017 23:53:46 GMT
Power Level – 1,300
Word Count – 568
“Where’s the party…?” Hala slurred, the gentle thunder of a few Earthlings’ attempt at something orchestrally unorthodox filling the night’s air and managing to make it into her ears. With a twist of her neck, she eyed the approach of something frighteningly familiar, yet at the same time unknown. With hair and horn and vivid eyes, dressed in attire that made the red–skinned woman look practically naked in comparison, an equally devilish fellow introduced himself. Mammon, he said, requesting and receiving the flame from the Stetson–toting Saiyajin and adding another sinful odour to the atmosphere.
The smoke seemed to glisten like strands of fine silver, though the stench of a lit cigar hardly fazed the fire–skinned femme. For a moment, she observed the burning rolls, inadvertently pondering why on Earth they looked familiar. Indeed, it was only once she got a greater whiff of smouldering tobacco that – combined with her own alcoholic perfume – she managed to put the pieces together. It was just like being in a bar! Except outside, without a roof, and nobody to serve more beer…
Sylaris’ approach went unnoticed until he was practically right on top of her, offering his hand in a friendly gesture as he made some crude and flattering comments. Amber eyes squinted at him, his silver hair not too dissimilar to Hala’s own pale cascade, though he was most certainly a more human character. It took a Demon to recognise a Demon, or something to that effect, but the drunkard completely dismissed the sleaze’s racial origins. An arm reached out, but her hand completely missed the man’s own open palm, causing her to stumble yet again.
Saved by the Sheriff, she was.
“Pffft! Who needs a –hic– licence?” the Demoness dared to ask, momentarily forgetting the dashing devils’ presence. Valliere, at the very least, was keeping ‘business’ strict. His comments to Mammon caught the girl’s ear, stabilising her rather heavily derailed train of thought and bringing forth clarity. Making a gesture that somewhat mocked the concept of a curtsy, using snowy and sparkling hair in place of dress, the Gelidran Heir provided the gentlemen with a greeting all her own: “Hala’s my name, –hic– staying anythin’ but sober’s my game, yada–yada–yada, all that –hic– formal spiel…”
Again, Hala hiccoughed, tipping back another few mouthfuls of rice wine. She shook the gourd, supposedly a traditional drinking vessel in some Earthly cultures, and checked the contents. Still a few drops left, but her most recent helping would no doubt keep her inebriated for the rest of the night. To bigger fish, she thought, as the Sheriff made an almost literal deal with the devil.
“What? Oh, yeah, that’s right…,” she snuffled: “I’m trying to find something –hic– I last saw around here somewhere… I think.”
Stowing the unorthodox tankard, the inebriated idiot positioned both of her linen–wrapped hands roughly two feet apart as she tried to mentally picture what it was she was seeking. It took her a few attempts, the space between her palms varying wildly as she tried to create a comparison between blurred realities and a foggy memory of what might have been something severely inaccurate. A few seconds ticked by, but she finally settled upon an overall distance of about a small sword’s length.
“It’s –hic– about this big,” Hala noted: “Kind of thin at one end, but wider at the other…?”
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Post by Mammon on Jan 6, 2017 3:33:15 GMT
He leaned into the flame the long stem of tobacco startled to lazy life casting soft orange light on its toker . "Thanks." he crooned taking a long drag pulling it down by an inch, the smoke drifted into the air in thin wispy lines that trailed out from his nostrils like a great dragon of old ready to unleash a gout of flame and not a cloud of cancer. He breathed out the smoke.He looked the Sheriff, up and down and a song inappropriately played through his head he hummed the tune out loud before he could think his mouth bypassing his brain all togeather 'I shot the sheriff, but I did not shoot the deputy'. "Hmm, hmm. License, why would I ever need one of those?" he was rather baffled by this concept not only did it question his ability but it questioned his ownership of the vehicle, he stole it fair and square from that wharf. "So Sheriff, catch any criminals."his eye's flicked to the newcomer the light thinned to pinpricks of suspicion, this guy looked how do you put it nicely? Fruity in Mammon's own opinion, who wears all leather and a shirt that should've belonged on a biker midget. "It seems the devil has only eyes for one." he chuckled turning to look at Arlic Valliere, the look said without speaking 'get a load of this guy'. "Think your gonna have to break it up if Prince Charming gets too handsy." "But my zeni is on Drunky , she looks like she could eat Leather Head alive." he chuckled darkly at his own joke, after all if no else was gonna enjoy it he sure as hell was gonna. "I mean if you weren't here one might take Tiny Shirt, down a peg or two."
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Post by Arlic Valliere on Jan 14, 2017 1:53:22 GMT
Should we....like skip Hala?
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Post by Arlic Valliere on Jan 19, 2017 1:59:25 GMT
THATS NOT A YES OR NO DO YOU WANT ME TO SKIP SYLARIS?
It's your thread so you make the call hotshot.
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Queen Habana
Moderator
Queen of the Evil Space Monkey People Special Item: GPW Universal Championship Belt
PL: 415,489
Dark Power(x4); M.SSj(x14); U.SSj(x18/12), SSJ2 (x27)
Zeni: 0
Tag: @habana
Posts: 1,374
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Post by Queen Habana on Feb 19, 2017 7:13:31 GMT
Hala | WC: 1503 | Gains: 1,736 | New : 2,236 Arlic | WC: 657 | Gains: | New : Mammon | WC: 696 | Gains: 1,114 | New : 54,770 Sylaris | WC: 492 | Gains: | New :
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