Talon

[color=teal]It's been bloody forever, OB, hasn't it? I've missed this place...been a member for eight years, and gone almost four. I've been all over the web...written fanfiction, played Battle.Net, got my rear handed to me on Battle.Net, switched over to XBOX and PS2, and still got my rear handed to me. But now...I'm in my old RP haunt. And that makes me wonder...when other members aren't on OB, where are you? Do you play other online forum RPs? Do you play Battle.Net, as I'm sure 99.9 percent of the population of InternetLand do? I'm curious, and I want to know. For example, and yes, this is shameless plugging, I'm a member of Shards of Glass, a Dragonriders of Pern RP. [url=http://shardsofglass-rp.proboards.com/index.cgi][align=center][img]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v213/simeonreese/SoG/ad1.png[/img][/url] [url=http://shardsofglass-rp.proboards.com/index.cgi][img]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v213/simeonreese/SoG/ad2-2.gif[/img][/align][/url] So tell me...what do you like to do in your free time?[/color]

[color=teal]I'm looking for a simple banner resembling the Law & Order title cards. All black backgrounds, Friz Quadrata font, with the tagline 'Law & Order Blind Justice' in the same vein as Criminal Intent and SVU's title cards, though to fit the banner, I'd prefer if 'Law & Order' were on the left, and 'Blind Justice' were on the right. The title card of Criminal Intent is given as a guideline, if it helps.[/color] [URL="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/1/14/CIopening.jpg"]Title Card.[/URL] [color=teal]I appreciate the effort and time taken. -Talon.[/color]

[color=crimson][b][u][center][size=2]Chapter One: To Stone the Heroes....[/center][/size][/b][/u] [pindent=2][i]Manjusra was asleep when the plane touched down in New Orleans. He'd tried to hold in his laughter when she saw that the pilot was wearing Army greens, and failed miserably when she saw that their ride was a C-130 transport. He had to take his car with him, after all. It was a very pleasant ride, by Chase's standards, and he'd slept through most of it.[/pindent] [pindent=2]He checked Hunter-Net's list on safehouses in the area and saw one near the French Quarter that had seen little reported use lately. He nodded and put out a notice that he'd been opening that safehouse soon, pleased to see that it was one of the 'old-money' Hunter's manses. It would make things easier if some of the Hunters congregated in one place to coordinate their actions.[/pindent] [pindent=2]He unbuckled and lifted the sleeping Manji in his arms as he headed into the hold, setting her quietly in the car, as the plane's activity wound down. The pilot opened the bay doors and released the hooks keeping the car in place. With a wave, Johnathan grinned evilly and gunned the car in reverse, backing down the ramp quickly and spinning to face a nearby gravel road. He looked up and checked a nearby signpost.[/pindent][pindent=2]"H-uh. I didn't know Camp Villere had an airstrip...."[/pindent] [pindent=2]Checking his GPS, he tore out of the military training 'facility' onto the interstate that would carry him to old New Orleans. He, of course, didn't realize that the facility hadn't had an airstrip at all, but Beartalker was good like that.[/color][/pindent]

[color=crimson][i][pindent=2]He felt like shit. He could admit it out loud, if anyone were around to hear it, but then, he was still feeling like he'd gone one-on-two with Mike Tyson and Muhammad Ali with the gloves off. He shook his head, trying to clear some of the delirium-induced memories as he showered with the garden hose Manjusra kept in her basement. He was still too out of it to realize -why- she kept said gardening hose attached to a water source in her -basement-, but then, since his brain was continuing a rendition of an Army jody, he could probably be forgiven.[/pindent][pindent=2][/i]"C-130 rollin' down the strip, Airborne daddy gonna take a little trip. Mission unspoken, destination unknown. Don't even know if he's ever goin' home."[/pindent] [pindent=2][i]He toweled off with a nearby towel, climbing the stairs without even bothering to throw on his tattered jeans or shredded coat. They wouldn't cover anything important anyway. He stopped mid-step on one of the stairs and leaned against the wall, catching his breath as he scanned the now-visible kitchen for his cellphone.[/pindent][pindent=2][/i]"Me and Superman got in a fight. I hit him in the head with some kryptonite. Hit him so hard I busted his brain, and now I'm datin' Lois Lane."[/pindent] [pindent=2][i]He found the device, along with his side-arms and holsters, and flushed. He'd actually been out enough to drive with those things strapped on? He was lucky he hadn't gotten caught! He checked his cellphone, finding a single text message, and he opened it. Paling upon reading the missive, he immediately dialed up Beartalker.[/pindent][pindent=2][/i]"Yes, Johnathan, I -did- get the surprise you set me up for. Yes, it was pleasant. Yes, it was better than my birthday two years ago. Shut the hell up and listen. I need a ride to New Orleans. I don't -give- a damn about the paperwork. Do you -want- me to show your wife Manji's porn collection? Good. I'll be at the airport at...what time is it? Three thirty? Damn. I'll be at the airbase for seven tonight. You want me to take her? She's good to fly? Fine. I'll see if she'll come."[/pindent][i] [pindent=2]He looked up to see Manjusra leaning against the door of her kitchen, gazing at him intently, and he returned the intent gaze. He cracked his neck slowly and walked up to her, taking the cell phone from her hand and putting it down with his upon the kitchen counter. He lifted her up into a deep, desperate kiss, and carried her upstairs. He had three hours to get ready; why waste any time?[/color][/i][/pindent]

[color=crimson]The e-mail isn't just a plot device, it's a test of your characters' resolve. You're Hunters, sworn to prevent the spreading of the Darkness. You've been fighting creatures out of your own nightmares for -years- in most cases, and you're part of a network that exchanges information in the hopes of making the Hunt a little easier, making the freaks a little less mysterious. Suddenly, somebody pops up with that e-mail. They hint that they've been watching you, and they know your identities. Your network has been compromised. But for how long has it been compromised? Could someone, one of those Hunter-Net handles, be a freak? Could they have been watching you, or worse, feeding you false information about their weaknesses and strengths? Under those circumstances...can you honestly afford -not- to check Rue Decatur in New Orleans? Can you live with the knowledge that your absence might damn -all- Hunters, and thus Humanity, to the freaks just because you got a little skittish, or a little skeptical? You fight freakin' -zombies- for damn's sake. There ain't much you shouldn't believe in, now![/color]

[color=crimson][i][pindent=2]The Ghast leaped them, turning and slamming its one meaty paw into Chase's chest, sending the Hunter flying into the side of a nearby Dumpster. It let out its bestial roar and prepared to charge Jackson, but sniffed the air and -grinned-. It turned and pointed at Chase, only Chase, before it turned and, with one bound, climbed the side of a nearby building, leaping from rooftop to rooftop towards the south.[/pindent] [pindent=2]Chase breathed hollowly as he used the lid of the Dumpster to pull himself to his feet, his eyes locked on his fellow Hunter as he slumped over. He tried to heal himself, resting his palm over his heart, but found the energy wouldn't come. The last attempt to heal himself was barely able to continue. His willpower was drained. He waved off the other Hunter's attempt to catch his attention as he stumbled into the alley where his car was stashed. He didn't need help driving; he knew where he needed to be. His eyes wandered over his left arm as he grit his teeth and spit blood yet again, starting the car without even bothering to hide the weapons in the cache, simply stopping to throw them under the tarp. He hoped nobody would pull him over. Not in his condition. He drove off, waving weakly to the other Hunter, sketching a quick 'Healing' glyph in the air. He hoped the other Hunter got the message.[/pindent][/color][/i] [center]~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~[/center] [i][color=gray][pindent=2]His eyes searched the documents in his hand before he threw them across the desk. He leaned back and smirked, studying the ceiling for a full five minutes before he stood and bathed in the sunlight his window-wall provided him. He smirked quite broadly, enjoying the feeling of superiority for a moment, before a frown crossed his face.[/pindent] [pindent=2]There, thumping across the rooftops, heading right for his building, was his Ghast. It was missing an arm; the frown turned into a scowl. He hoped the creature had not slain his targets. It was meant only as a warning, and a message to galvanize them into being the reckless bunch of fanatics he knew them to be. If it lost an arm, that meant they were either stronger than he'd estimated, an impossiblity, or his creature had stayed in the fight too long. He would have to reprimand the Ghast -personally- for its failure to listen to its given orders. He turned and pressed his intercom.[/pindent][pindent=2][/i]"Mrs. Gray, please clear my schedule for the next two months, and send the injured man in the lobby to my office. Also, could you please be a dear and arrange a flight for me to New Orleans? That is all, Mrs. Gray."[/pindent][i] [pindent=2]He turned and cracked his neck audibly as he studied the view before him once again, a broad smirk spreading on his face as he hit the 'send' button on the email to the last Hunter in what he was now referring to as 'his most dangerous game'. With that, even as he heard the elevator to his personal office starting up, he pressed his forehead to the window and dropped the fly of his slacks, reaching in to caress himself. The power, the strength he had to move his pawns as he wished, was sooo intoxicating.[/color][/pindent][/i]

[color=teal]I was talking about Raven killing the 'savior of us all', actually. Remember? He no likey the legend of the Hero. Period. Why would he wanna kill someone he's trudging to all the seedy apothecaries and mage schools in the country looking for a way to help sh/im?[/color]

[color=teal]It seems likely that Raven would be placed on this assignment, but I'll leave that up to Shy's discretion in this case. Hell, Raven would probably sooner kill the one in the Woods as string him up before a court of his 'peers'. That's just him, though. Hehe.[/color]

[color=crimson][i][pindent=2]He groaned from his position on the floor, shaking his head very, very slowly. His gaze flickered around and he realized he was no longer in the stairwell; he was instead in what remained of the fourth floor. There were no walls that could be considered barriers any longer, and even a support beam or two were creaking woefully at their load. Chase stood, the telltale sounds of fighting carrying to his ears, and he banished all pain, pushed it down firmly to a recess in the back of his mind, and ran to join in.[/pindent] [pindent=2]What he saw surprised him to no end; another Hunter, one he didn't know, was busy whacking and shooting at a Ghast with a brilliantly-burning All-Seeing Eye blazed across its face. It couldn't seem to heal the damage the brand was causing, which gave Chase an idea. He summoned his tomahawk, rushing in, ignoring the shriek of pain his ribs and head protested with. He couldn't give in to his pain; he needed to fight to save whoever this thing was after. He leapt upon the Ghast's back with a guttural shout to whoever the other Hunter was; he ripped into the meaty hunch on the Ghast's back, hacking away and bucking on it like a rodeo clown. For a wild minute, he thought he was killing the thing before, with an audible crunch of bone-on-bone, the Ghast's shoulder dislocated, its arm twisted, and grabbed Chase violently, hurling him into Jackson without any visible effort.[/pindent] [pindent=2]He was getting desperate. This Ghast needed to go down, and even though his body hurt, he had to keep going. Resting his hand upon his heart, he whispered his activation and felt some relief flood his wounds. It wasn't enough to mend the breaks he knew he had, and for some reason the slashes on his back weren't healing, but it was enough to keep him in the fight. He stood and stared at the Ghast, raising his hand and gesturing roughly, sparking that shoulder into white flame; the Ghast's weakest link fell off, leaving a twitching, rapidly shriveling arm spewing blood and black mist all over the pavement as the creature roared in pain and began running towards the two fallen Hunters. Chase kept his eyes upon it.[/pindent][pindent=2][/i]"Cast in the name of God, let he who is innocent throw the first stone to draw the blood of the Guilty!"[/pindent] [pindent=2][i]The creature's forward motion immediately ceased and, save for the shifting of its weight from foot to foot, its body remained extremely motionless. Chase felt an incredible burden pressing down on him; the strain placed on his body for this Edge was always proportional to the strength of the freak in question. Refusing to take his eyes off of the beast, even as his ribs gave out and a trickle of blood that was hastily stymied by the healing Edge began to leak from the corner of his lips.[/pindent][pindent=2][/i]"Hey, buddy! Give this thing what for, will ya?"[/color][/pindent]

[color=gray][center][IMG]http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i275/AgriasNesme/Raven-1.jpg[/IMG][/center] [i][pindent=2]He wiped his hands of the matter regarding the rape attempt quite quickly after his return to the castle. A short visit to the dungeons, a brief chat with the orderly on duty, and the promise of an interrogation in the morning left Raven feeling quite fulfilled, even if his extracurricular activity had been, for the night, a wash. He looked back into the cell block and smirked, writing down an assignment in the duty roster for a moment before affixing his signature. He knew it rankled Valen, the old goat, that he had a commanding officer of only twenty-two summers, but life was unfair, and he knew it was more than likely to be attributed to Valen's views on society's favoring of the Hylian people. This was just his way of assuring Valen that Raven, at least, was a fair person.[/pindent] [pindent=2]Then again, Valen was one of the few people in the Guard that knew of Raven's mental state at all times. He knew Raven was a fair person, but beyond that, he knew the true reasons behind Raven's passionate hatred of the Legend of the Hero in general, and the Hero in specific. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to reign in his anger, his hand clenching in a claw-like gesture before he sensed the presence of another nearing his position.[/pindent] [pindent=2][/i]"You shouldn't hold it against him."[/pindent] [i][pindent=2]He turned, without reply, to study the blue-suited figure before him. He did not kneel, as he knew she was still maintaining her guise, but he did incline his head respectfully. Never let it be said that Raven did not respect his betters.[/pindent] [pindent=2][/i]"Your aunt is worried for you, Ser Raven. And I do not mean that she worries because you are the last of your blood and clan."[/pindent] [pindent=2][i]His eyes hardened, and the inclination of his head became a little stiff, signs quite invisible to the naked eyes of an untrained observer, but to those who bore the hallmarks of the training that these two had, these signs were as obvious as the monumental ruins dotting Lake Hylia's surface. He raised his amber gaze, studying the emblem emblazoned across the white tabard draped across the blue of the body-suit, the self-same emblem that marked his right shoulder as the last son of the Sol-Harkinian line. He offered no reply.[/pindent] [pindent=2][/i]"Ser Raven...your aunt intends to request you continue your training beyond the limits of the sword. I would see you under her wing again."[/pindent] [pindent=2]"Is that an order, 'Shiek'?"[/pindent][/color]

[quote name='DeLarge'][SIZE=1]Just wondering, are there any supernatural beasties out there that don't mind helping us out? Or are they all out for our blood? Also, did we ever decide on a definite location for our characters (mine, Raiha's, Engel's, Talon's and anyone else I may have forgotten who is supposed to be in the same area)? Because we've got to get to New Orleans, which is a long way from Maine, if that's where we're supposed to be. I'm guessing a plane trip or something is in order? [/SIZE][/QUOTE] [color=teal]Yes, there -are- 'beasties' that are inherently benevolent and wish to help the Hunters. The problem with that is, sometimes the Hunter they want to talk to is soooooooomewhat trigger-happy. And the crawler infestation and the Ghast issue right now is occuring in Maine. Plane travel is to be arranged.[/color]

[color=crimson][pindent=2][i]Chase shut the rear door of his car, shaking his head softly, a small smile sneaking into his expression as he turned and looked back at Manjusra's door. He cracked his neck and shook his head; she had been quite insistent upon his breakfast, and after a rather enjoyable repast of cream of wheat, honey, and good old fermented grains, he was feeling rather invincible. That could possibly attributed to the pleasant activities that almost immediately followed breakfast, in which he had, this time, been a more than active participant. It had been with great regret, in fact, that he left her apartment following the completion of his laundry's run in her dryer.[/pindent] [pindent=2]She was asleep now, he assumed, but she had shared with him the location at which she'd spied the Ghast, and he was just wrapping up his pre-Hunt reload and restock. He would have to make a stop at one of the safehouses he and Beartalker had up here to restock his car-cache in a week or so, but for now, he was preparing for something much more immediate. He sighed as he climbed in the car and drove off, looking back at Manjusra's apartment one last time. Had the sun not risen just enough to cause a glare, he could be forgiven for believing he saw a pale figure looking down at him from the shaded safety of her balcony. Shaking the wishful thought from his head, he put the car into gear and drove off.[/pindent] ~~~~~~~~~~~~ [pindent=2]He strode calmly into the abandoned, broken hallway, shaking his head quietly. He had tracked the beast here, with no little difficulty, to a run-down hotel slated for demolition. At first, he wondered why he felt no shudder, none of the crush of the undead he usually had in environments like this that were....inhabited by the living-impaired. Then he realized why as he ascended to the second floor landing in the stairwell; something had brutally and efficiently slain what might have, at one time, been a rot. There were traces of that black mist in the area of the smeared corpse, but it was quite dead. Chase checked his 1911 and holstered it, drawing instead his Desert Eagle .50 caliber. It looked like he'd need a bigger punch.[/pindent] [pindent=2]As he climbed higher, a long, tracking stain of semi-fresh blood trailing up to the fifth and final floor of the building, he felt a growing sense of foreboding, a painful buzzing in his skull he'd felt only twice before in his life. Before his eyes, a message written in blood reading 'Help me!' became a message written in glowing blood, reading 'HIS EYE IS UPON YOU'. He fell to his knees as the painful sensation faded and he shook his head, looking around slowly, then at the ceiling above him. There was nothing there. Perhaps the Messengers were wrong, though they never had been before.[/pindent] [pindent=2]Perhaps his mind was still fogged with afterglow, or perhaps he was growing complacent in his proven ability to handle the freaks he faced on a nightly basis. Perhaps he was just tired, or it may have been a combination of factors. Whatever the reason, his search of the area around him failed to include one obvious location; underneath him. With a great roar, the creature landed immediately behind him and slammed him into the wall. It was only with great force of will that Chase managed to keep hold of his weapon as the Ghast, having leapt five stories up from the basement level, stepped back to repeat his charge. Chase rolled out of the way, watching concrete chips pepper the landing as the hunched thing in front of him turned to face him. The beast roared with a bestial fervor that somehow seemed human at the same time; Chase just cocked back and decked it, activating his collar-bound radio with his free hand.[/pindent][/i][pindent=2]"Hey, Sword; this is Shield. Put out a notice to everyone you-WHOA!- can! I need help, five buildings down and two south from the crawler-stay DOWN, damnit!-infestation last night! Over!"[/pindent] [pindent=2][i]Having completed his call for help, he threw all of his attention on the fight; his inattentiveness had already cost him a festering slash to his lightly-armored back and the makings of a migraine, his head having made good friends with the concrete wall, courtesy of the unwelcome guest currently ignoring the bloody bullet holes in its shoulder, chest, and abdomen.[/i][/color][/pindent]

[color=crimson]Cue motive for everyone to begin flocking in the same general direction.....now. Chase won't get this message as he's 1) experiencing afterglow, 2) about to go try and kill himself a mean-ass Ghast, and 3) not likely to check his phone or mail until he's done with said Ghast. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ [b]To:[/b][email protected] [b]From:[/b]Sender unidentified. [b]Subj:[/b]Our game. [pindent=2]Hello, dear friends and cattle. You do not know me, but I have been watching you. To my great amusement, it seems you all believe you can make a difference in the grand scheme of things with your pretty little tricks, killing my followers and their friends. As entertaining as watching your endeavors has been, it is to my great regret that this game must end, and soon. We are expecting company of a far higher order, and things must be planned out perfectly. However, for one last amusement, a minor indulgence, if you will, coordinates have been sent out to a randomly selected few. These coordinates are to be kept secret; yes, I know your identities, every single one. If any of you 'Hunters' apart from those who have received my invitation arrive, the game is over, you all die. If you manage to defeat me at my own game, then only those who perish at play will find their existence ended. If not....then our guests will find themselves most comfortably situated, drinking with his followers from the skulls of every single hunter here. Perhaps we'll even scribe your skulls with your Net-handles. Come to me, Hunters. The game is just beginning.[/pindent] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Yeah, just take a guess at who got an invitation. If you wish to check the email in-post, the 'coordinates' are 'Drexel House, 22 Rue Decatur, Vieux Carre, New Orleans'.[/color]

[color=crimson][b]To:[/b][email protected] [b]From:[/b]Bookworm55 [b]Subj:[/b]The Hunt [pindent=2]Another day, and a strange one, it seems, my peers. I have awakened, and after several months of trying to live in a hospital environment after my informant severed my legs following her perceived betrayal, I awaken whole and healthier than you would believe. Why? I have no clue. Why me? My talents have never fallen under the healing side of our awakened nature. Perhaps the Messengers have seen fit to restore to me my ability to study these things, to give us a chance. And by all accounts, it seems necessary.[/pindent] [pindent=2]I'm sure many of you have encountered an increased resistance in your endeavors these past few weeks, judging by the amount of mail my inbox accrued since I last logged in. The question many of you are likely asking is 'Why?', or perhaps, 'Why now?'. I cannot tell you why, nor can I give an honest opinion. Why are new 'species' of these beings popping up, seemingly overnight? Why are more of the black-mist rots presenting themselves, why are shamblers evolving into walkers, walkers into hidden? I don't have the answers, and though I am in a position now to endeavor to retrieve them, that is another question I must ask. Yesterday evening, I went to sleep without my legs, as I have done in the months since that overzealous newly-imbued attempted to kill my vampire friend and I and was answered with lethal force and my disability. Why do I awaken this morning in an unmarked flat with a note from that informant and my legs intact? Why are these things happening? I can't tell you; I can only hope that, as was the point of this site in the first place, that you all share your information with one another, and with me, that we may at least ensure a tentative survival.[/color][/pindent]

[color=crimson][i][pindent=2]He couldn't think, couldn't do anything but return the attention reflexively. He was out of his element. Oh, certainly, he'd kissed before, and several times, at that, but this was far above and beyond simple kissing. For one thing, she was laying skin to skin against him beneath the covers of her oddly-ominous bed, and for another thing...well...that was pretty much the gist of it, actually. He gave another, shuddering gasp as he felt some internal alarm sound, and he broke the kiss to warn her only to have her fingertips silence his efforts. A sudden tightening, a low groan, and another kiss signified a temporary cessation to the Hunters' distractions that night.[/pindent] [pindent=2]It was early in the morning, the sky wasn't even lightening yet, when he padded outside to his car in nothing but his jeans. As he gazed at the sky, a slightly dazed, goofy look in his eyes, he seemed to have a far greater appreciation for the sounds of the birds waking up, the sight of the very slight slash of gray against the violet of the sky, that horrible smell...wait. He blinked and groaned, looking across the street and shaking his head, opening the back of the car and retrieving a fresh change of clothes from a briefcase hidden next to another cache of ordinance. He covered his nose as best he could, but there really wasn't anything one could do about the waste products of a veterinary office except, perhaps, close your windows.[/pindent] [pindent=2]He smiled to himself as he showered in Manjiusra's larger bathroom, ignorant of the sound of the door opening and footsteps entering in his musings. He closed his eyes softly, enjoying the feel of the cool spray on his skin as he realized the simple things, like a girl's attention, or the smell of a pet care center's waste from the night before, still affected him; he was still human.[/pindent][/i][pindent=2]"That Ghast....I need to look into that. Focus, Amadahy...."[/pindent][/color]