Prepare for the #LodanRespawn2024 Existing characters may choose to be displace from/have memories of different timelines, thereby allowing returning members the option to retcon their whole character. These changes are the result of the "Unnatural Fog" plot device that is running between now and the Respawn. The plot is simple: no matter where your character is, that place is shrouded in a thick fog that suspends time, but not thoughts or memories, so even if they're repeating the same day over and over again, they continue to remember, so each time feels like a new day. For those retconning OCs; this is where new versions of themselves have the opportunity to replace the old versions. Official lore and tree updates will be announced asap
Post by Dakota Cicatrice on Aug 20, 2017 5:13:00 GMT
As Dakota counted, he noticed lights in the nearby buildings being turned on. He looked to the sky and saw that morning would be in roughly two hours. He ceased his counting and began to speak. "Well Gerald it appears I'm going to have to cut our time short. Goodbye." said Dakota blankly. He lowered the gun to Gerald's head, and fired for the last time that night.
He calculated he had roughly 10 minutes before the guards showed up. He sprinted out of the alley, and to the adjacent one, which thankfully led him to the next street over. He sprinted with all of his might, until he reached another connecting alley, then another, then another, praying his face hadn't been seen at least. Quickly he made his way back to the center of town and the stage. Before showing himself he loaded his gun with his final bullet. "One more tonight. Just one more target." he said to himself.
As he headed back to the stage he saw one hooded figure and grabbed his pistol tightly. "Your task is done." Dakota said blankly.
Character art by Edelweiss Fjäril. Character design by Veronika Tallent.
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Aug 20, 2017 20:28:39 GMT
The hooded figure's head turned to face Dakota, a look of mild confusion in the eyes for half a second before his gaze zeroed in on the tightly gripped pistol. "Ah, you're one of the new ones." He more stated than asked.
"I'm not one of your judges, buddy, they don't stay where you can see them (unless you're screwed). I just search & sell info." There was some clear mirth in the comment, though it wasn't really a snicker or otherwise a laughter. "But good job on returning on your own, they KO the slowpokes on the way back so you saved yourself from a headache. Just go wherever they gave you your task to get the veredict. Good luck~"
Post by Dakota Cicatrice on Aug 25, 2017 5:45:55 GMT
Dakota nodded at the man relaxing his grip. He nodded with a small smirk and headed towards the stairs. The room was still heavily cloaked in darkness just as it had been before, but Dakota felt more calm this time, after all, he wasn't blindfolded this time. None the less, he kept his pistol held tightly and drawn, just in case.
"Your task is done." shouted Dakota into the darkness, eagerly waiting a reply.
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Aug 29, 2017 19:14:09 GMT
"Oh is it now, early bird?" Replied a voice from somewhere on the left in the penumbra, still echoing ever so slightly in the room. A second one followed soon after, this one apparently accompanied by a pair of faintly glowing eyes, as movement indicated a hood being removed. "I can attest to that. Sort of." "So we're all back." A third one, tagging along heavy steps. "Crow, turn the lights on, will you?"
A single switch was flipped, and the room was inundated with the yellowish light of a couple bare bulbs on the ceiling. Crates upon crates filled with varied supplies filled shelves that in their own turn filled the walls, except for the one on the back where a large board stood in front of. A single blonde woman had been the one to greet Dakota first, and she was still observing him with the faintest hint of a smile from her chair. The last group to arrive brought another inductee, this one unconscious and being carried like a sack of potatoes - and them promptly dropped to the ground next to where Dakota stood. He regained consciousness about half a minute afterwards, groaning and clutching his clearly pounding head.
"Well then, we shall proceed. Who wishes to go first?" "Alright, me then." Crow went ahead without pausing more than a millisecond after the question. "Ladies and gentlemen my team lucked out again and by the end of debriefing you all owe me a drink - yes, yes you too Gills. A drink. Each." He gave the Dakota a slap on the back like old pals and tugged him forward while announcing his outcome with a strange kind of team-mentality tone. "Picking his alias was difficult, I tell you. He seemed to blend in with the storm at first, washed out by falling water and looking like he'd wash everything away. We thought to call him Tempest... but then- THEN" He laughed, between amusement and awkwardness. "He made noise enough to make the dead roll in their graves. Woke up the whole neighborhood. And then was gone before anyone saw what happened. So that settled it, buddies, say hi to your new colleague; we're calling him Thunder."
"All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." - John Dalberg-Acton
Post by Dakota Cicatrice on Sept 4, 2017 2:48:05 GMT
Dakota smirked. He enjoyed having his art appreciated and while he wasn't sure the name he had received fitted him perfectly, he was content with it. He looked over to the girl smiling at him and pondered for a moment why she was doing so. Looking around. "I take it this means I've passed?" asked Dakota simply. "Furthermore what about this man?" Dakota asked, pointing his still loaded pistol at the clearly still dazed young man.
Character art by Edelweiss Fjäril. Character design by Veronika Tallent.
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Sept 13, 2017 20:06:29 GMT
"Indeed." Crow nodded with a grin, that a second later became just a tad empty. "Although barely. We gave you one target, buddy. What was that about trying to get a second one earlier there? Hm? You have to work on your math skills."
"In any case," The redhead walked towards one of the smaller crates piled up on the side, and fetched something from within it. A preserved skull coated in enamel, like those used for Shakespeare presentations on theaters, and placed it in Dakota's hands. "Here's the 'supplier' you yearned so much to meet. 44 years old, Eugene Smith - or as the entertainers upstairs call him, 'Yorick N°.27'." She let him greet, or handle, the skull for a couple extra seconds and then placed it back on the crate it was kept. "List and data-gathering is our informants' job, Thunder, not yours. You're free to pick any - and how many - targets from the board as you please, and yes you may double-check the information, but do not hunt down anyone whose name isn't written here. Remember our rules - outside the board lists, the only acceptable kills are in rightful defense; as in the case you or yours are under attack, you have the right to ensure your own safety. If that's understood, we welcome you as one of ours, and you'll be under our protection. If you prove us it wasn't, though..."
"Then we trim you by the roots. Capiche?" Crow gave Dakota a couple pats on the back, then pointed at the second man that had been asked about, and who was being introduced about his own trial results as they spoke. Apparently he had pretended to be just the target's 'type' and lured him out for the kill that way, so they started calling him Mimic.
"That's the second approved of the evening. It's rare to have more than one person get a pass per trial, but guess it was a good night. Sounds like I lost my free drinks..."
Post by Dakota Cicatrice on Sept 19, 2017 1:30:56 GMT
Dakota looked over to Crow. "Don't worry. It was merely a mistake on my part with all the confusion." Said Dakota, hoping that he would be able to conceal his lie. He did indeed have one more target, but now was not the time. Dakota listened to the girl and held the Skull for a moment before handing it back to her. "I apologize for my, let's say, overly ambitious attitude when it came to finding Mr. Smith there. Child molestation is a crime I hate above all others and I allowed my emotions to drive me too much." admitted Dakota. "I do understand your terms, and I would like to join, but before I do, I have one question." Dakota looked the girl up and down for a moment. "Tell me girl, is your hair red?" asked Dakota with a small smile.
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Sept 19, 2017 17:46:30 GMT
"Arguably yes." Edelweis replied with a raised eyebrow and slight tilt of head. "Why the question?" Did he mean to say her hair wasn't red, as a light nitpick? As someone with more knowledge about nuance and hue names might say, a person could also honestly call it orange, pink, coral (by far the most accurate), ginger and such; but by the standard of anyone who was called a redhead, her hair is red indeed. Or maybe he had indeed some sort of colorblindness and either could only see red or could not see it? Or did he simply not like red...
There were too many options to guess at the moment.
"All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." - John Dalberg-Acton
Post by Dakota Cicatrice on Sept 22, 2017 6:45:59 GMT
Upon hearing her answer, Dakota's eyes widened and he began to laugh, subtly at first then turning into a laughter that boomed throughout the whole room. Should he tell her? Should he not? A myriad of thoughts circled through his head, and as his intense laughter died down he began to speak to the girl. "My apologies there girl. I'm entirely colorblind, meaning I can only see black and white, so I couldn't tell your hair color, but I knew I had recognized your face. As you can well imagine, all sorts seek people like me out for my 'talents'. I know not who, but somebody has quite a good sketch of your face, with a small description, and let's just say, they must not be to happy with you. I don't know any kind of a name, but I do know he had connections with the military." explained Dakota. "In any case, I accept your invitation to join and am quite excited to get to my job. However I do still have one more question. May I stay in my home? I quite like it, and if I'm not too keen on group living." added Dakota.
Character art by Edelweiss Fjäril. Character design by Veronika Tallent.
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Sept 24, 2017 22:45:59 GMT
The redhead raised an eyebrow. She sure as the sun rises everyday did not have a wanted poster issued by the military, as one simply cannot openly work in a place where everyone knows them if they're branded as a criminal (unless your 'work' is something either unoficial or unsanctioned - for example being a pirate, like what happened to EIRAL's former High Commander Faolan Skye 's case once he was rescued from prison). Being an assassin while on the run was possible, but only as long as your face wasn't known among a guild's oficial ranks - and as CAEsAL's guildleader Edelweiss was a blatantly known face in the guilds lighter trades, by both patrons and the city's lawful forces.
To hear someone had shown Dakota some sort of poster of hers was... interesting. Someone with a hidden grudge/vendetta? Illegally looking for a hitman for hire, perhaps. That was possible, considering since about an hour prior Dakota had no affiliation with her whatsoever. She'd send someone to investigate that later, or even do so herself if it proves affordable.
As for his question... "You may remain in your home as normal. CAEsAL's lodging facilities are for the use of our legally registered workers anyway: to live in them you'd need an actual entertainer job, which you don't have. ...That being said, we do have a lot of errand runners employed, so if you need a cover to explain your affiliation to us you can claim that."
"All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." - John Dalberg-Acton
Post by Dakota Cicatrice on Sept 29, 2017 1:47:15 GMT
"Thank you. I did not know that, but I appreciate the freedom." said Dakota. Dakota stood there, unsure of what else to say. "Is there anything else of me you require?" asked Dakota nonchalantly.
Character art by Edelweiss Fjäril. Character design by Veronika Tallent.
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Sept 29, 2017 6:03:20 GMT
"Not really, you're free to go." She shook her head lightly. "Considering the weather outside and how damp you are, though, do yourself a favor to avoid catching a cold and stick around until the storm stops. There's tea served at the reception (or coffee if you prefer); I'll get a towel fetched for you."
"All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." - John Dalberg-Acton
Post by Dakota Cicatrice on Oct 8, 2017 8:53:35 GMT
"Thank you very much." said Dakota. He wasn't much into the drinks, but drying off didn't sound all to bad. Looking at the girl, Dakota thought of one more important question. "I do have one more question to ask you, assuming that's okay. Killing is not only my art, but it is my job. This is my only source of income. Is there any kind of pay associated with your targets?" asked Dakota. Pay was important to him. He had plenty of money saved for himself, but nothing, especially any bank account, was eternal.
Character art by Edelweiss Fjäril. Character design by Veronika Tallent.
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Oct 8, 2017 19:07:59 GMT
"Of course." Edelweiss responded simply. She wasn't about to claim killing as an art form, but this wasn't the first time she heard of it being referred as such - and not only by assassins, even.
"Any services prested to my guild are properly rewarded (although your task today was rewarded by your life rather than money)." So he better not expect to be paid for the compulsory trial. Lives weren't worth cheap either. "Bounties are found on the board along their respective target(s). They fluctuate according to estimated levels of danger and number of victims, but on average each will grant you enough to handle a middle-class individual's expenses for around a month. You may pick more - or less - at your leisure and necessity."
"All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." - John Dalberg-Acton
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