Training Exercises

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DinkyInky
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Re: Training Exercises

Post by DinkyInky »

Just Old Al wrote:
GlytchMeister wrote:Once Glytch finished showing Emerauld the ropes, the elf was happily learning all about the military history of the human race and all of the stratagems and tactics involved therein. He started her off on familiar territory...
Damn, Glytch - very good. VERY good.
For once, Emerauld is not liking "homework". She needs to write papers on this...then she needs to tell Master Mutters that after she reads the research to him, she's burning the lot...and taking a loooooong soak...and heaven help the creature that interrupts it.
Yanno how some people have Angels/Devils for a conscience? I have a Dark Elf ShadowKnight and a Half Elf Ranger for mine. The really bad part is when they agree on something.

Aphyon chu kissa whol l'jaed.
--Safyr Drathmir
ShneekeyTheLost
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Re: Training Exercises

Post by ShneekeyTheLost »

South Minneapolis was not a place for strangers to be walking in. Recent blizzards aside, it was a less reputable area. The streets that this particular stranger was walking down were what could only be called a ghetto. Granted, the ethnicity of the stranger was not possible to determined, with his coat and his hoodie and everything, but whomever he was, he sure as heck wasn't a local. Besides, he had that map, and that made him a tourist. Even if he did have that silly oar-looking thing he used as a walking stick, that made him fair game for the gangs that inhabited the area.

Granted, the fellow was huge, but it was clear he wasn't packing any heat, and that was good enough for them. After all, 9mm beat stick any day, right? And there was twelve of them, and one stranger. And even if there wasn't much valuable, there was always his ID and probably plastic that could be used to go on a brief spree to make it worth their while.

-----

AN: Prroul is centuries old, and will make references to topics which are centuries obsolete. For example, anyone of African-american descent, he will identify them as Ethiopian because he was around when the Ethiopians invaded and conquered Egypt around 700 BC. He will also refer to cities as former names, such as calling Istanbul by the former name Constantinople or calling Baghdad by the former name Babylon. This is not intended as any sort of racist insult, this is simply the character's world view based on his experiences.

Prroul considered the word 'civilization' to be one of the more obscene words in any human language. Granted, the cities were nowhere near as fetid as they were a century ago, thank you very much John Snow, and the effluvia was probably unnoticed by the inhabitants since they didn't have a nose sensitive enough to detect it. To his feline sense of smell, however... it reeked. And this was clearly not among the more affluent neighborhoods, either. Unfortunately, it was near one of the areas he needed to check on if he was to find his prey.

While he was a stranger to urban development, some things are universal constants. When all the families trying to shovel snow off their various cement parts of their property suddenly found a need to go inside, it was no different than being in the bush and all the insects going silent. Things lower on the food chain always made themselves scarce when a predator was on the hunt.

"Yo. Big guy. Nice paddle." One youth, clearly of Ethiopian descent judging from his skin tone and bone structure, began moving in an intercept path to his pace. Several others were inexpertly attempting to conceal themselves and attain flanking positions.

How far has the noble Nubian line sank for their descendants to go from some of the most honorable warriors to mere scavengers. Still, it is not a lone scavenger. It is a pack of jackals thinking they have a lion to prey on. Still, perhaps this is a part of the criminal element which needs to be investigated.

"You, and your friends who are attempting to move around my flank, are about to make a very grave mistake. However, perhaps this meeting is... fortuitous. You see, I am looking for an old friend of mine by the name of Nodaki. You wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you?" He shifted into stance without really thinking about it. His English had a decided oriental accent to it, since he got his refresher in Hong Kong.

"I don't think anyone you know is gonna be in this neighborhood, man. You dun walked into our turf."

"Do not worry, I have no intention of invading your territory. I merely wish to know where Nodaki is. He is an old friend, you see. I had hoped to have a... conversation with him. If he is not here, I shall continue on."

"Yea? Well maybe you should be more worried about yourself. You see, this is our turf. So you gotta pay a fee for crossing. Now, since you've seen my bros, you know you don't wanna get too fresh here. Let's do this nice and peaceful. Wallet, watch, anything else you got of value. Hand 'em over, and you can go."

"Ahh, sadly I have no wallet nor any watch. The only thing I have of value is my old walking stick. You wouldn't deprive an old man of his walking stick, would you?"

The youth in front of him reaches into his... pants?... and pulls out a firearm. It was not nearly as impressive as some he had seen in his travels. "Yo, come on. Stop tryin' to play me. Wallet. Now. Or else."

"You really do not wish to do this, young fellow. Put that little toy of yours away, and you may yet live."

"Fuck you!" and with that, the fellow in front puts three rounds into his target. Of course, the shot grouping was pathetically large, and since he was holding it 'gat style' at a very poor angle, it ended up burying one round in his shoulder, one round through his coat beside his ribs, and one went high, missing completely. The fact that the ammo was so cheap that even Brass Eagle would be ashamed to have their brand name on it was another factor in the lack of penetration. As was the lack of proper care and maintenance the firearm had received in recent months. Not that it was a particularly powerful firearm to begin with.

The pain was relatively minor, the round lodged itself into the dense muscle. Prroul took a moment to deliberately reach up with a gloved hand, extending his claws discreetly, dig into the wound, and pull the round out, blood trickling out of the open wound and coating the spent round. He then holds it up and looks at it. Then the angle of his face shifts, and he looks directly at the 'leader' of this pack of scavengers, allowing the youth to see his green kitty-slit eyes and inhuman muzzle. A low growl, one which might be heard coming from an irate tiger about to swat someone, rumbled from his chest. "The defendant has been found... lacking." And with that, he grinned, a mouth full of sharp carnivore teeth gleaming in the dull light as he flicks the round to the ground.

"Wha... what th' FUCK, man? Thuh fuck are you?" the 'leader' was backpedaling a few steps out of blind survival instinct. Prroul closed the distance, and a hand shot out to close around the youth's neck with a speed that took all of the young ruffians by surprise.

"Nodaki. What do you know of this person. Tell me, and you may yet live."

"Hey! Th' fuck you think you doin' with my bro, sumbitch! Hey, I'm talkin' to you, let him go or I ventilate you."

"D-d-don' know nothin', man. Never heard the name before." Prroul's muzzle twitched and his eyes narrowed.

"We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the fun way. Lie to me again, and your entrails will decorate the ground. What do you know about Nodaki?"

"I... I tell ya, man! I don't know nothin'! But... but maybe I heard that name somewhere. I dunno. Maybe our supplier mentioned it. He's, like, uptown, man. Organized. You know, Mafia. You don't wanna fuck with him, man."

Prroul considered his words, then snorted and dropped him. "Go. Now. You never saw me. Pray you never see me again."

"Y-yea. No problem. Never saw you. We cool."

As Prroul left, he heard the hooligans talking amongst themselves.

"Yo, should we waste 'im??"

"Fuck that, man. He took a round and fuckin' dug it out with his bare hands. I dunno what the fuck he's on, but I ain't gonna piss that shit off. Ain't worth it, man. Not cost effective."

"Yea. Sure. Whatever you say."

"You wanna say somethin'?"

"Naw, we cool."

"Good."

Prroul did not bother concealing the grin on his face as he left, since they could not see it. While perhaps not as many teeth were in the smile as his instructor's was, there was plenty enough for most situations. Uptown. Mafia connections. It was as good a lead as he was likely to get here. Consulting his map, he plotted a path that would take him more northerly. Checking the wound, he was pleased to note that he would not be leaving a blood trail as the wound was already closing nicely.
Warrl
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Re: Training Exercises

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Hey, I dig this cat - he cool.
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GlytchMeister
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Re: Training Exercises

Post by GlytchMeister »

I can't help but read Prroul's dialogue in a Kajit voice...
He's mister GlytchMeister, he's mister code
He's mister exploiter, he's mister ones and zeros
They call me GlytchMeister, whatever I touch
Starts to glitch in my clutch!
I'm too much!
ShneekeyTheLost
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Re: Training Exercises

Post by ShneekeyTheLost »

GlytchMeister wrote:I can't help but read Prroul's dialogue in a Kajit voice...
Eh, Kajit seem to be more middle-eastern, and I was more going for an oriental four-color martial arts flick accent. But yea, I would imagine anyone who has played Skyrim would probably do that. From a developer's perspective, I think it was the wrong move for Bethesda to go with full voice acting for Skyrim/Fallout 4, but that's a whole 'nother thing.
Warrl wrote:Hey, I dig this cat - he cool.
'cause a cat's the only cat... who knoooooows where it's at.

Also, you owe the pun jar. A vinyl of Louie Armstrong ought to do. Or maybe Scatman Crothers.
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GlytchMeister
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Re: Training Exercises

Post by GlytchMeister »

ShneekeyTheLost wrote:
GlytchMeister wrote:I can't help but read Prroul's dialogue in a Kajit voice...
Eh, Kajit seem to be more middle-eastern, and I was more going for an oriental four-color martial arts flick accent. But yea, I would imagine anyone who has played Skyrim would probably do that. From a developer's perspective, I think it was the wrong move for Bethesda to go with full voice acting for Skyrim/Fallout 4, but that's a whole 'nother thing.
Hence the "I can't help but"

It's become automatic... I haven't even played Skyrim for ages, and the association is still there. Cat-person? Kajit voice activate!
:|

It seems I may have played a liiiitle too much Skyrim. Just a bit.

So now I'm stuck trying to get that out of my head.

You know how the Kajit have that... Purring or growling sound in their voice? Does Prroul have something like that? Some sort of feline affectation in his voice? Something caused by, I dunno, the shape of his vocal cords or the shape of his mouth? *shrug*
I'm just trying to get a good fix on his voice... Maybe if I can get it well and truly figured out, I can stop reading his dialogue like it came from a Kajit.
He's mister GlytchMeister, he's mister code
He's mister exploiter, he's mister ones and zeros
They call me GlytchMeister, whatever I touch
Starts to glitch in my clutch!
I'm too much!
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DinkyInky
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Re: Training Exercises

Post by DinkyInky »

GlytchMeister wrote:
ShneekeyTheLost wrote:
GlytchMeister wrote:I can't help but read Prroul's dialogue in a Kajit voice...
Eh, Kajit seem to be more middle-eastern, and I was more going for an oriental four-color martial arts flick accent. But yea, I would imagine anyone who has played Skyrim would probably do that. From a developer's perspective, I think it was the wrong move for Bethesda to go with full voice acting for Skyrim/Fallout 4, but that's a whole 'nother thing.
Hence the "I can't help but"

It's become automatic... I haven't even played Skyrim for ages, and the association is still there. Cat-person? Kajit voice activate!
:|

It seems I may have played a liiiitle too much Skyrim. Just a bit.

So now I'm stuck trying to get that out of my head.

You know how the Kajit have that... Purring or growling sound in their voice? Does Prroul have something like that? Some sort of feline affectation in his voice? Something caused by, I dunno, the shape of his vocal cords or the shape of his mouth? *shrug*
I'm just trying to get a good fix on his voice... Maybe if I can get it well and truly figured out, I can stop reading his dialogue like it came from a Kajit.
The Siamese in Lady and the Tramp, as sung by a deep bass...like Avi Kaplan from PTX. Or Tai Lung from Kung Fu Panda. Deep, rumbling. The guy responsible for Tony the Tiger and the Grinch song singer. Then add a very stilted Asian accent.
Yanno how some people have Angels/Devils for a conscience? I have a Dark Elf ShadowKnight and a Half Elf Ranger for mine. The really bad part is when they agree on something.

Aphyon chu kissa whol l'jaed.
--Safyr Drathmir
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GlytchMeister
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Re: Training Exercises

Post by GlytchMeister »

Aha... So... What I did to try to imagine it was to think of the deep, warning sort of growl a lion/tiger/panther might make to someone or something that is about to get too close to it... The "back off" growl.

Then I manipulated that sound into words, and gave it a bit of a Japanese accent. (Much more familiar with the Japanese accent due to a relative's job)

Sound about right?
He's mister GlytchMeister, he's mister code
He's mister exploiter, he's mister ones and zeros
They call me GlytchMeister, whatever I touch
Starts to glitch in my clutch!
I'm too much!
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AmriloJim
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Re: Training Exercises

Post by AmriloJim »

DinkyInky wrote:The guy responsible for Tony the Tiger and the Grinch song singer.
Thurl Ravenscroft. Add "Mr. Bassman" by The Andrews Sisters and Johnny Cymbal to his credits.
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Re: Training Exercises

Post by DinkyInky »

AmriloJim wrote:
DinkyInky wrote:The guy responsible for Tony the Tiger and the Grinch song singer.
Thurl Ravenscroft. Add "Mr. Bassman" by The Andrews Sisters and Johnny Cymbal to his credits.
Thank you. My brain was on holiday when I tried to remember it...and late enough that I completely forgot I could use Google fu.
He's the only one until Avi Kaplan that I automatically thought of when someone said, 'deep bass voice'.

Here is the incomparable Thurl Ravenscroft singing about the Grinch
Yanno how some people have Angels/Devils for a conscience? I have a Dark Elf ShadowKnight and a Half Elf Ranger for mine. The really bad part is when they agree on something.

Aphyon chu kissa whol l'jaed.
--Safyr Drathmir
ShneekeyTheLost
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Re: Training Exercises

Post by ShneekeyTheLost »

GlytchMeister wrote:Aha... So... What I did to try to imagine it was to think of the deep, warning sort of growl a lion/tiger/panther might make to someone or something that is about to get too close to it... The "back off" growl.

Then I manipulated that sound into words, and gave it a bit of a Japanese accent. (Much more familiar with the Japanese accent due to a relative's job)

Sound about right?
That's it exactly. And he'll do that growl by itself too.
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Re: Training Exercises

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Glytch sprinted down the stacks before screeching to a halt. No sense in running... He yanked out his phone and ordered a VORP, teleporting himself directly in front of Phix.
"What th-"
Phix reared up as Glytch materialized before her eyes.

"Hi. Eme' and Tsillah said a uh, 'Master Prowl' was heading toward the Twin Cities. I think he had a beef with Nodaki, and doesn't know the bastard has been taken care of. Eme' said to get all of the paranormals out of the area. Tsillah said Brandi wanted to use the Library for evac."

Phix blinked once as she processed everything. When she spoke, her voice was completely even and calm.
"Take us back to them. Now."

----------

Emerauld was still giving Tsillah a good shake when Glytch returned with Phix.

"Saf' likes you, or else I would be in Hate's amount of trouble for hurting you. Master Prroul is...a determined individual. He does not allow minor...inconveniences like a World War to stop him."

"A World War is a minor inconvenience?" she replied, incredulous.

"That is how he described your World War Two the last time he mentioned it in training. Very minor.
He considers himself to be a Guardian of sorts for the humans against 'things that go bump in the night'. This includes Vampires. He has a personal grudge against them....something about 'bad blood'. Lily and Suzie need to be warned until I can introduce them properly. He will be unwilling to listen to them while he is on the hunt, and he does not know that the threat is gone yet, void brain!
While he may not be able to...how you would say, 'arm wrestle a golem', Angel Kitty may wish to be warned to steer clear unless she wishes to have another mate. He is..."

"Ahem." Phix, in full feral, with Glytch barely visible behind her, stood at her full height glaring down at her.

"Hullo Angel Kitty..."

Taking a deep breath, Emerauld addressed Phix, her voice taking on a deeper, more clipped, crisp, almost businesslike tone.

"Greetings Madame Librarian Phix. Master Quichon sends his regards. A former student of his, Master Prroul, who is also a teacher of mine, had left our training grounds shortly after learning Nodaki had revived, and was causing trouble."

This caused Phix's eyebrows to raise. "Go on."

"Unfortunately, what he did not learn, was that we have already dealt with him at your granddaughters wedding.
He has...issues with magic and technology, and had to take the very long way around to arrive here.
I was sent here to learn of any news regarding him, and intercept before he inadvertently caused issues....and to do some homework.

Tsillah here has apparently gathered information that was...waylaid, due to the aforementioned wedding. Master Prroul has arrived. I need to know where to prevent him from destroying the city in trying to locate someone already dealt with. She does not believe the matter to be serious. It is imperative I find him first before...how you say, 'your cover is blown'?
Yanno how some people have Angels/Devils for a conscience? I have a Dark Elf ShadowKnight and a Half Elf Ranger for mine. The really bad part is when they agree on something.

Aphyon chu kissa whol l'jaed.
--Safyr Drathmir
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Re: Training Exercises

Post by ShneekeyTheLost »

VIOLENCE AND GORE WARNING: This scene contains gratuitous amounts of violence and dismemberment. Reader discretion is advised.


The sun was well set, darkness and snow covering the alley in a smothering blanket of cover, making it all but impossible to see more than mere inches. The fact that this particular alley was shoveled out was a likely indicator that it was most definitely not one that random strangers should stumble into. Storage bins were stacked with purpose here, although not obviously so. And the door in this alley was a thick steel door with a slot at eye-level. Well, eye level for most people.

*THUD THUD* The large figure pounded on said door. Inside the hoodie, the ears picked up the solidity of the door. This was not merely hollow, as most metal doors would be. It did not resonate properly. Therefore, it must be solid. Therefore, since most humans are not capable of idly swinging several hundred pounds of metal around, it either had some sort of counterbalance system or a hydraulic system for opening and closing it. Which meant he was probably at the right place.

The eye-slit opened. A no-nonsense large bald head peeked through "Password?"

"Nodaki. Where is he?"

"Sorry, bub. Don't know whatcha talkin' bout. Now beat it." the eye-slit closed.

*THUD THUD*


"What, you again? I told you to beat it."

"Where is Nodaki?"

"You really want to get lost. Otherwise, you might end up with a nasty... accident."

"If you do not tell me, I will have to go in there and... perrrsuade you." the r's were rolled in a growling note.

"Right. Sure. You're gonna kick down a half ton steel door and come in here after me. That's a good one."

"Kick? No. I have no need to kick down the door."

*WHAM!!!*

The door reverberated as the figure landed a very precise blow. "This is a door. Meaning it runs on hinges. I don't need to kick through steel." *WHAM!* "Just the mechanism." *WHAM* *SKREEEEEEEEEEEEE*

The sound of shearing metal was unmistakable, a noise that made even nails on a chalkboard seem pale in comparison.

With one final blow, and a nearly feral noise that was a cross between a roar and a KAI, the bolt attached to the hydraulic system sheared. Since the door's locking mechanism was already wrenched out of place, it no longer had anything supporting it, so it obeyed the laws of physics, and promptly fell over, inward. The figure stooped through the door sideways to fit, dipping the 'oar' as he did so. It was a graceful move, one which a martial artist would have probably referred to as stepping into a low horse stance, then sliding back into a backstance on the other side.

In the room were various tables with individuals, firearms, drugs, cash, and other assorted supposedly valuable things on them. There were several concrete pillars here as well, which supposedly held up the next floor.

"My apologies for the damages. Your doorman was... impolite." The large figure makes a half-bow, oar spinning around in an arc to be held tightly against the arm in a move one might recognize as the ready position, his head angle did not alter as he bowed. "I am looking for Nodaki. My trail has led me here. Hand him over, or tell me where to find him, and I will leave. I do not care about your organization, or your valuables. Just him."

The silence following was nearly deafening. Finally, someone regained their composure to issue an order. Unfortunately, the order was simply "Ventilate him!"

Three Tommy-guns, old Chicago Typewriters, loaded with .45 HP ammo, opened fire. Unlike the former 'gangsta gat' he was shot with, these were finally cared for pieces of machinery loaded with high quality hollow-point rounds. Any human, and many paranormals, would have been mowed down as surely as the victims of the Valentine's Day Massacre. Unfortunately, what they were taking aim at was a bit more... troublesome.

Two steps took the large figure to the nearest pillar, anchored both at top and bottom, a circular concrete design with iron rebar in the center. The 'oar' swept out as he did so. The gunners assumed he was using it to take cover, and so shifted their fire to avoid crossing their firing lanes. He had been struck several times already by the rounds, so they held fire to peer over to see if he has bled out yet or not.

The edge of the 'paddle swung at the pillar, a loud crunching sound reverberating from the impact, cracks appearing in the concrete. His stance shifted, and the large sphere on the bottom of the weapon came up two feet higher and hit the column on the other side. More cracks formed. The thrusting kick put the base of his foot against the broken section from a firm stance, and launched it at his attackers, who were completely unaware of what was coming their way. He followed up on it, using it as a visual feint to distract his opponents as he closed.

The oar swung out again. While it was not what anyone would consider to be 'sharp', the distinction held almost no meaning as the speed and force still sheared through bodies with pathetic ease. Bodies, or parts of bodies, flew. Other parts simply exploded from the force of the impact. Blood and...less identifiable bits were launched into various directions.

Someone got the bright idea of using a cattle prod. Typically, they are high-voltage low-amperage devices, although this one had been... altered. However, it also didn't actually seem to do much on contact. There was no satisfying noise as it impacted to indicate a discharge. And the backswing from the weapon came fast enough that the wielder never had time to realize the problem before he no longer had anything to puzzle out a problem with.

"Burn Muthafucka!" A device bounced in his direction, one which released a jelled substance. Catching the scent of refined petroleum products, he brought his trenchcoat up in a shielding gesture. The substance self-ignited, lighting the coat on fire, although none hit him directly. Divesting the coat immediately and ripping off the flaming hoodie gave the remaining Mafioso the last shock of their lives.

The figure was humanoid, but was covered in black fur. Scars were highlighted by lines where the fur did not grow. The head was decidedly felinoid, ending in a muzzle. Hands were human-like, although he had pads at each finger, and claws which were retractable as well. His eyes now glowed green, and not just from the reflected light. There was a nearly intangible shimmer around him, like heat rising off the summer pavement, and the roar of pain was not human.

Dropping the weapon, the figure moved with blurring speed, grabbing the individual who tossed the napalm grenade by the throat and literally ripped his head off, blood fountaining from the body. The head was then used as a projectile, launched at the next individual who made an unwise move to the next weapon's box. This struck the container, which caused the individual to fumble just long enough for the enraged monster to close. Planting in a low stance, his hand came up, leg pushing up with it, and claws raked across the abdomen, intestines spilling out as their cavity opened.

Movement alerted the predator to an attempt to use a back door. Three swift strides, and he grabbed the evacuating human, shouldering his bodyguard into the wall in the same movement.

"Nodaki." the inhuman monster growled "Where. Is. He." Covered in blood, some of it his, several bullet wounds now simply oozing, the HP rounds still not being able to penetrate the layer of muscle under the fur, and other assorted bits of things that were flying around, his muzzle came to within an inch of the human's face. The human could smell his breath, even over the sewer stench of the scene.

"Okay! Okay! I'll tell you!" The human's pitch was at least one octave higher than normal, but the beast simply nodded for him to continue "Look. Somethin' went down. 'Bout two, mebbe three weeks ago. Don't know all the details, but he stuck his dick in a hornet's nest, whatever he did. No one's seen or heard of him since. I just moved in, since his boys are all gone. That's all I know, I swear, man, I swear..."

"What. Happened?"

"I tell ya, man, I dunno. I wasn't here. Somethin' went down at the Pillsbury Plant. I heard later it was just a front, the real players were makin' a move on someone else. Then he up and vanishes. Poof, gone. If he ain't come back yet, he ain't gonna. So I move in. That's it."

-----

Brandi's phone rang. She was tempted to ignore it, but since it might be important, she took it. "Yea?"

"We have a confirmed location of our Person Of Interest. He's currently ripping through a mafia safehouse. Someone apparently broke out heavier weapons. We're going to need agents on site to contain the incident. Person Of Interest no longer under concealment. We have a Condition Furball, do we need to call in a fire team?"

"Negative. Big negative. Do not engage. Establish a perimeter, and stay the fuck out of there. If anyone is going in there, it's gonna be me, personally. Copy?"

"Copy. Dispatching containment unit."

Brandi hung up and punched in another number...

-----

"Agent Tsillah here."

"Tsillah, we got a location on him. He's already in town. Screw trying to evac, it's too late. We need a way to get him to stand down or to make him stand down."

"Yea? I got Emerauld trying to choke my shadow saying she needs to talk to him. Would that work?"

"Right now? I'll try it. Sending you the coordinates. Get her there...now. The incident is already starting to leak. We've got a containment unit forming now, but this could get ugly."
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Re: Training Exercises

Post by DinkyInky »

AN: Thanks to Glytchmeister for spontaneous Vorp maneuver.


Putting her phone away, Tsillah turned to Emerauld.

"Well, I really hope you know what you're doing, because Brandi is giving me the Coordinates to get you there fast. Apparently, he is not disguised anymore."

"Brilliant." Emerauld mutters as she pulls out a hooded Winter cloak for herself, and another impossibly large hooded cloak, and Hakama from her pack, then turns to Phix.

"Madame Librarian Phix, might I leave my pack here? It is better I go with as little as possible. Master Prroul will already be uneasy."

She nods, then takes it and leaves, returning a short while later.

"Tsillah, I am now ready. Please tell me how to get there and I will go to him quickly. I...have been told by MIB that I cannot scry due to...protocols...or I would have found him already."

Tsillah rolls her eyes and opens her phone again.

"Eh, if I may, Tsillah?"

Tsillah paused in the act of dialing a number to look at the hooded fellow.

"Yes?"

"I've just finished making a major improvement to the VORP system, and I know it's workings better than most. I could probably get Eme' in range to talk down Master Prroul in a matter of seconds."

Tsillah tapped on her phone a bit before tossing it to Glytch. "The coordinates are on the screen, kid."

Glytch was already working on his phone. The coordinates were for a warehouse in the Twin Cities. Just before he pressed the final button, he looked toward Emerauld. "Be careful, ok?"

Emerauld smiled. "Don't worry, Glytchie."

*VORP*

Glytch stared at the carpet where Emerauld had been standing.

"That smile was uncertain," he thought.

He turned to Tsillah. "Find Safyr. Don't try to be funny and sneak. Tell her what's happening. Eme' might need backup." His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an intensity that would have sent a shiver down Tsillah's spine, if she had one. The agent nodded curtly and dissolved into the shadows.

It's out of my hands now... I need to distract myself or I'll worry myself into oblivion.
Glytch took several deep breaths.
I'd better see if I can start getting those vent measurements.
Last edited by DinkyInky on Sun Jan 03, 2016 10:33 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Yanno how some people have Angels/Devils for a conscience? I have a Dark Elf ShadowKnight and a Half Elf Ranger for mine. The really bad part is when they agree on something.

Aphyon chu kissa whol l'jaed.
--Safyr Drathmir
ShneekeyTheLost
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Re: Training Exercises

Post by ShneekeyTheLost »

AN: With assistance from DinkyInky

*VORP*

Prroul spun around at the sound of an inbound teleport, in a three-point stance. Then he takes in who just got teleported in, and relaxes. He looks down and realizes he accidentally snapped the neck of the human he was interrogating in his threat-response movement. He stands up to his full height, or at least as much as the ceiling would permit and drops the corpse.

"So, when did Rangers learn how to port?"

"A friend of mine sent me. You have... ahh... made some people nervous. The nice, friendly people in the black suits are establishing a perimeter, but you really do need a new disguise." She looks over at the burning pile that was once his coat and hoodie. "That one looks a bit... well done. Here." She tosses him the larger of the cloaks, which he catches in his clean hand. "Not that *I* mind seeing you bare-chested, scars and all, but you will make the humans nervous."

"I appreciate the cloak, Emerauld, but I am trying to find someone. I do not suppose you would care to help, would you?"

"Would he be the Veg'larn who started the golem project? Showed up here a while back as a half-baked golem? Name of Nodaki? Yeaaaaah... He is now fully baked. Only without the phoenix blood, so he is immobile. Then after one of the golem girls burned his... parts off, they threw him in the ocean. Immobile. Burning parts to be felt for all of eternity. So he is already very well taken care of. Even Safyr thought it was a fitting and poetic end."

"Mmm. Well, I suppose this does make me appear to be a bit... foolish." he looks down at himself, covered in bits of the aftermath, with a look one might almost call embarrassed.

"Oh no, not at all. Turned you into... well... what you are today. That whole thing with the golems. Plotting world domination. He needed to be put down. If you had read your mail, you would have known."

"What mail?"

"We can talk about it somewhere else. We really do need to get going before the mundane law enforcement shows up and we have to explain... all this." To her credit, she took in the scene nonplussed.

"Can it be somewhere I can get a bath, and maybe some help digging these infernal things out of the wounds? Arrows were bad enough, but at least you had a damn handle to pull them out with." With a swirl that might have been a flourish, he fastens his cloak around his neck and flips the hood over his head.

"Yea, sure. Let me talk to someone before you go out. We would not want another... misunderstanding. They would probably be...most upset if their people got harmed by friendly fire."

"Friendly fire... is not." Prroul intoned, "But I will let you lead the way." he deliberately... 'accidentally' steps on one of the 'piano tuners' that had shot him, leaving a pinch in the barrel several inches wide.

-----

"Wait...heey... stand down! I am handling the situation!" Emerauld waves her hands up over her head for theatrical effect as the MIB agents suddenly had all their firearms aimed at her.

"And you would be?"

Emerauld got an amusing idea, and decided to mimic a character she saw in one of those movies the Old Sarge showed her.

"Mmmm... not sure if you have clearance for that, Agent. Get Agent Oduya on the horn. Tell her I have defused the situation, but we need a place were we can stick a para temporarily. One with access to running water, by preference. Not a para-friendly hospital, though. Let us just say you do not want him near magic OR electricity. I would not want to accidentally turn off any breathing machine or something. I can provide her with a sit-rep..."
The word was strange to her, but it was the one the Old Sarge used, so it was probably appropriate here too, "...on site. But we need to get him out of here before the... 'local yokels' get here."

"You just stay right there and we'll check." One of the agents went back to his vehicle.

A few minutes later...

*POIT*

Brandi flashed her badge to the other agents. "Is he... umm... calmed down?" she asked Emerauld.

"For now. At least he is being rational about his target already having been put down. He has got a few bullets in him, so he is probably going to be a bit grumpy until we can get him somewhere we can pull them out. He's also probably going to want a bath, and lots of food, heavy on the meat, all things considered. Oh, and the electrical lighting will not work, so I will need candles...a lot of them."

"Yea, sure. No problem. Lemme just go in there and Poit him over to... oh, wait. Right. Hmm. Let's see." Brandi wanders over to the vehicle and starts talking on a 'brick', then comes back. "Three blocks up, there's a no-tell motel with a ground floor vacancy we can use for now. I'll have someone get a key. We can escort him. I'll have the area cleared. Won't take but a minute."

Emerauld went back in while Brandi issued the necessary orders "So, there is good news. There is an inn of sorts not too far. They are going to acquire a room. It has a bath with running water and privacy. And food. Will that do?"

"Excellently, assuming I can have your assistance in removing these... rounds. They actually went into the muscle, I think."

"Right. Will not be a problem. Umm... while you are here, there are some friends I would like you to meet. After you... 'freshen up', of course."

"Is the one whom I owe a debt of honor to among them? The one who disposed of Nodaki. That this is done... I owe something there. I would like to discharge that debt if possible."

"I am sure we can find a way... Not a problem... well, maybe a minor problem. He is... err... I believe he is having some control issues. Actually, he could probably, maybe... really use some help with that. And you would be... ideally suited to that."

"It is settled, then. So, about that room?"

"Oh...err... let me check." She sticks her head out "Hey, Brandi, is the coast clear?"

"As clear as it is going to get. Let's see if he'll fit in the SUV."

"That is not going to work, you know that," replied Emerauld.

"He's going to be in the back seat. Over a meter away from the engine. He should be good."

"We shall see. I will get him." Emerauld went back inside.

"They are ready for you. They have a conveyance for you to attempt to ride in. I do not know if it is going to work, but they are wanting to try it."

"I will try it. After it ceases to function, we can walk," was his grumpy reply.

Emerauld returned. "Okay, he's coming out now, please do not shoot. He has enough bullets in him already... please do not upset him further after I have calmed him down."

The large cloaked figure comes around the corner, wrapping the cloak around himself, looking not unlike a prize-fighter walking out onto the mats for a match. Most of the agents take a visible step back.

"Nind stink d'treema" "They stink of fear."

Dos ph'natha jatha'ur ssouk. Ol zhah dro'xundus instinct. Hel'vers, dos z'klaen fainh, dosph'naut ilro'e wun natha cheerful disposition a 'l'klew'ar."You are a bigger predator. It is survival instinct. Besides, you have to admit, you are not exactly in a cheerful disposition at the moment."

"Where is this conveyance?"

"Over there, I think." Emerauld points to the black SUV with tinted windows.

Prroul pauses for a moment as he sees Brandi. With a careful motion, he gives her a bow. "I think I recognize you. It seems as though you have grown up. It is good to see you turn your curse into a blessing. I think, perhaps, you can understand my position better than most. I am told that the one responsible is... put down?"

"You can say that. And... yes. Nodaki has been... suitably dealt with. Permanently."

"That is good to hear. Please tell me later whom I owe a debt of honor to. For now, I believe you have a... conveyance... you wish me to try."

"Yes, right over here."

Prroul puts his oar onto the back seat. The shocks groan in complaint. Brandi cocks her head to one side and quirks a brow. It wasn't until Prroul actually takes a seat that she remembers how dense he is. However, by the time she came to realize the consequences of that, it had already happened.

He sat down on the seat. The vehicle dipped, metal straining noises groaned. Then both tires on his side popped. Without needing to be asked, he stands back up and retrieves his oar.

"So, I assume it is not too far to walk?" was his only reply.
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jwhouk
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Re: Training Exercises

Post by jwhouk »

5/5, would read again ;)
"Character is what you are in the dark." - D.L. Moody
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
ShneekeyTheLost
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Re: Training Exercises

Post by ShneekeyTheLost »

AN: With assistance from Dinky

Emerauld was in a position that many women would have envied. She had a tall, dark, and muscular man naked in her tub screaming her name.

*Plink*

...another spent round was dropped onto the tray provided for the occasion.

"Well, you would not have needed me to do this for you if you had just read your mail!" Emerauld was driving the point home as she dug out yet another round.

"It missed me by almost six months, Em. I cannot exactly time-travel and... RRAAAAWWWRR" *Plink* "read something you just sent."

Fortunately, the cover story Brandi used was they had a VIP who wished to remain anonymous that had... exotic... tastes for entertainment.
A reference was made to President Kennedy's having a pair of hookers on call at all time. The implication was that his regular Dom was not in. After all, the more outrageous the story, the more likely it was to be believed, and it would explain the noises.

"All right, so where is the next one? We need to get this finished before you start healing over them. I do *NOT* want to have to go in with a knife to cut you back open to get them out."

A ripple of muscles under fur was her immediate response as he flexed and moved to feel where the next one was.

"Left bicep. I think you got all the ones in the torso. Then there is one, maybe two in my leg."

They were using the bathtub since it was the easiest to clean out. The shower was running, if weakly, to provide continuous drainage for the blood so nothing would stain.

"The food has already been ordered. Some place called 'Dickey's Barbecue' whom are used to large orders of meat on short notice. I think they were told they were catering to a sports team...whatever that is. I believe they provided candles for lighting as well."

"Ahh, good. I hope it gets here rrRRREOOOOOWWWWW..." *Plink* "rapidly." He flowed to his feet, then put his palms against the wall of the bathtub, one foot forward to support his weight, the other foot falling back for her ease of access to that haunch.

"I think they are waiting for me to be done with this task before delivering. Something about a wounded animal being more dangerous than... something."

"They have no cause for concern. They are not on my-AAAARRRRGGHHHHH" *Plink* "...list."

"You have to admit, though, their first impression did not match your normal restraint and control."

"I will admit it was an... indelicate moment. In my defense, I would like to see them react any better to being shot at."

"Well, looks like we are finished here. This last one is just a graze, and did not get stuck."

"Then I shall clean up a bit and let the oozing stop while you let them know it is safe to deliver the food. A clean pair of pants would not go amiss either. Fortunately, I think we can save the cloak. I will miss that coat, though. It lasted several decades."

"Already two paces ahead. I have Hakama in your size. I originally brought them in case you needed it on-site, but this way they do not risk getting ruined since you can clean up before putting them on."

"I knew there was a reason I had missed your company over the past year."
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Re: Training Exercises

Post by DinkyInky »

Thank you Shneekey for insight into Master Grumpy.

Leaving Prroul soaking, Emerauld quietly stepped outside, right into a very unsettled MIB agent on guard, who to his credit, only gasped surprise.

"He is ready for that "bar bee cue" that has been provisioned. My apologies for startling you. I was unaware there was a guard posted. You have my thanks, agent," she said, bowing low.

"No prob...I mean, you're very welcome, ma'am," he replied, unsure of why he replied so formally, and drew out a brick informing the other agents of the status change.

With that, she went back inside to tidy up the room as best she could.

Whining at the unclean feeling she got from touching the plastic trash bags and plastic cans, she collected every bloodied item from the floor.
Next, she scrubbed the floor and furniture as best she could, and measuring in paces from the bath, summoned a small whirlwind to draw as much of the effluvia that had dripped onto everything, as well as the soap and water residue, wailing as a thick greenish grey sludge came along for the ride.
She sent it over to the waiting trash can, and repeated the process, cringing as the thick sludge came up again.
That done, she tied the bag closed, and took the other can into the bathroom.

"The food shall be here shortly, and I have removed all shredded garments and cleared all the blood I could find and put them into those dreadful plastic bag things.

Here is another for this room."

"Oh, Em, you need not do that. Magic and Technology may forever be barred from my hand, but I can manage human's petroleum-based byproducts quite well. I can only imagine how horrid they must feel to your senses.
They are clever, to weave the very fibers of the earth's vomit into such useful things, but it is a nausea you need not share. I do, however, thank you for cleaning up. It would not do to tempt the humans to try their hand at playing God again, nevermind that there was as much magic as tech in my making."
He stepped out from the bathroom, now wearing a hakama and a loose-fitting shirt, with his tail poking out from the gap between. Now that he had properly groomed, he appeared much less... feral. Silky smooth black fur was slicked back to give the impression of hair. Feline ears were independently mobile for stereo-listening. White whiskers lay back against his muzzle. And he moved with a predator's grace, every movement flowing into the next, with the center of gravity always centered with unconcious reflex.

The door knocked. Prroul and Emerauld shared a Look, then she nodded and opened the door a crack.

"Somebody order delivery?" It was clear the young man was an agent, it was hard to miss, but he was in plainclothes to at least attempt to not cause a stir.

"Ahh, yes. Thank you." Emerauld took the paper bag and closed the door.

Prroul's nose twitched, causing the whiskers to wriggle. On anything less imposing, it might have almost been cute. His ears also perked up, and the very tip of his tail twitched. Retrieving one of his few possessions, an old zippo, he lights the candles as she pulls bundles of meat wrapped in butcher-block paper, trying very hard to not comment about the cuteness of the movement.

"I think they were not sure what you were in the mood for, so they have a bit of everything. Cow, pig, chicken... I think this was once fish of some kind. Also rolls, steamed veggies, some kind of potato mash."

"Good. I will start with the beef. Make sure to pick out anything you would like before I get to it." One of the unfortunate disadvantages of his metabolism was that he had to consume quite a bit of protein, particularly when he has been doing a lot of regeneration. The phoenix-blood might make it a great deal less taxing than it would normally be, but some things are unavoidable.

-----

After the meal, Prroul was feeling much better, his low rumbling purr more felt than heard. Stretching and yawning, he goes to sit down on the bed.

*crunch*

...and then was sitting on the mattress which is resting on the ruins of what was once the very cheap box springs and equally cheap frame. With a long-suffering sigh, he pulls the mattress off of the ruins and puts it on the bare floor, then rests on that. Since there was only one bed in the room, Emerauld joins him, platonically resting against him, letting his low purr lull her to sleep, using his chest as a pillow.

AN(Shneekey): I don't think I'm going to be posting the scene with the housekeeper, but I can just imagine her response to seeing a room with a broken bed, a very scrupulously cleaned and bleached out bathroom, missing towels, nearly melted candles around the remains of a dinner, and the rumor that some VIP with exotic tastes was renting the room.

AN(Dinky): Mainly because he knows I used to do that for a living, and know Gorramin' well how she'd feel. MIB better tip her extremely well, that's all I'm saying.
Yanno how some people have Angels/Devils for a conscience? I have a Dark Elf ShadowKnight and a Half Elf Ranger for mine. The really bad part is when they agree on something.

Aphyon chu kissa whol l'jaed.
--Safyr Drathmir
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GlytchMeister
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Re: Training Exercises

Post by GlytchMeister »

I have a sneaking suspicion any chair or bed that is meant to support Prroul heavily features Roman architecture or possibly Lanthian engineering... And could easily be used as a support pylon footing for large, heavy structures. Like a dayum bridge pillar.
*fingers twitch involuntarily*
I'm very tempted to try to create such a bed or chair... It seems like an interesting challenge...

----------

Glytch has never been a big brother. He had an older half-sister, but she... Didn't get along with pretty much anyone, so she was gone for most of his life, only ever turning up groveling and sniveling when she was too poor or needed help with something.
As a result, he was quite unprepared for the surge of protective emotions he experienced when he looked at the reports from his crawler swarms he had cast out to search for more information on Master Prroul. The No-Tell Motel, and the accompanying cover story from MIB, were especially provocative.
After a few moments spent reeling (he still hadn't quite gotten the hang of being courageous), Glytch turned back to his project, muttering to himself. "I think I may have to have a... chat with this... Prroul character."
He's mister GlytchMeister, he's mister code
He's mister exploiter, he's mister ones and zeros
They call me GlytchMeister, whatever I touch
Starts to glitch in my clutch!
I'm too much!
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DinkyInky
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Re: Training Exercises

Post by DinkyInky »

GlytchMeister wrote:I have a sneaking suspicion any chair or bed that is meant to support Prroul heavily features Roman architecture or possibly Lanthian engineering... And could easily be used as a support pylon footing for large, heavy structures. Like a dayum bridge pillar.
*fingers twitch involuntarily*
I'm very tempted to try to create such a bed or chair... It seems like an interesting challenge...
Lanthians(at least from Sarge and Al's not quite canon) cannot engineer a baby spoon without using nuclear energies to power it...though why the heck a baby spoon would need it us beyond me.

Roman...heck,Viking or well...Amish can work, they build sturdy, without cheap crap.

My old hs friend and I drove to Napanee oh...about two decades ago.

She custom ordered a bedframe, a bench couch frame, a three leafed table, and eight chairs from solid hardwood, no nails, simple assembly.

Her specs were king sized bed, king couch, large armed sturdy chairs and all furniture needed to be able to be jumped on by a bunch of kids, the bed and couch able to support the weight of eight grown men.

Took them six months to gather and cure the wood, and to arrange each person's best used talents as they were needed(they made it simple pretty, not just ugly functional as she asked). They charged her $500. She insisted on paying triple.

She buys cushions for them as she needs, ditto with mattresses.

Moving all over the place, those golden oak frames are still in use.

The only thing she ever replaced is the plywood she bought for the bottom bed box support, and that is less need, and more was the raincover lid for the tiedown for everything in her truck to move. Yeah, everything she owned fit in her truck.

The best part about her table and chairs was they take minutes to assemble, toss a cushion on it and ready to go. She stored all unused ones under the bed in a drawer crate until needed. To keep wear even, she swaps out the chairs monthly.

If I could afford it, I would do so myself...if only to add a few chairs to my Busia's kitchen (it is over a century old now. It once had twelve chairs(eight made by my Dzia Dzia). Only four were given to me, mainly because my Godfather had no idea I had no furniture, and got rid of most of the rest of it) so I can sand and undo the cheap slop fix one of my great-uncles did to them. I would also have them rough match the missing leaves.

My great grandparents had twelve children. The dining room table had extra legs and leaves you could slide in, and with those and the highbacked chairs all in place, it sat about thirty. When not needed, most of the extras...they sat under the beds in rollouts.

Both tables were pre great depression era, six leg loose leaf tables. My Dzia Dzia made several extra three leg supports that went under every other leaf. I cannot explain how he set it up, but it worked so flawlessly. I envy the person who managed to get it.
Yanno how some people have Angels/Devils for a conscience? I have a Dark Elf ShadowKnight and a Half Elf Ranger for mine. The really bad part is when they agree on something.

Aphyon chu kissa whol l'jaed.
--Safyr Drathmir
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