TᕼE ᗰOᔕT ᗪᗩᑎGEᖇOᑌᔕ GᗩᗰE ---- (Aᴅᴠ. Roleplay Tнread)

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    Signup / Plot / Introduction



    Here We go! Alright, so just to brief everyone who might've missed it, the Dandelions are going to start this rp on a rescue mission to save Mercy from an unidentified group of Tourists.
    Further Information: The time is 7:15, September 1st, exact year unknown. Its peaceful; ad odd adjective for this savage land.




    [fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: georgia; font-style: none; font-size: 36pt; margin-top: -50px; letter-spacing: -2px; text-align: center; color: white; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px black;][i][b]--/Harley    [/fancypost]
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    It seemed they always went for the youngest--predators that is. A fox would always lunge for the egg, their narrowed minds consistently conscious and qualm-free. Brilliant cobalt irises peeked out from gaps in the moss-colored foliage shrouding their owner’’s position, the guarded depths of that light gaze kindling traces of begrudging curiosity. Before them came a ragged clearing surrounded by vine-ravaged trunks, the warm ground sheathed with waving stocks of tattered golden barley . The same troubled gaze flashed about this scar of open space in the otherwise dense forest, searching for something--anything between gusts of falsely pleasant breeze. Blink once. Blink twice. They came to a stop in the nucleus. There, bound and bloodied, gagged and blindfolded lay one of his own. She was set in what seemed to be a strained comfort position--flat on her back, beaten form and frail wings sponged by crushed blades of wheat.


    Mercy.


    The sight of one so young strewn mercilessly across the floor like this was hard enough to stomach alone, but there another corner to this portrait that was even more unnerving. A chiseled jaw clenched firmly. In front of her sat something strange; foreign to nearly all--seen and unseen alike. Sitting in front of Mercy’s small body was an obsidian hued cube, run through with a single glass line that blinked rapidly with a cyan beacon.


    The same troubled optics we spoke of earlier smoldered silently, moving to survey the perimeter again. They couldn’t sit here and watch forever. It’d been too long already. One. He could see the tip of the barrel--could picture the cruel face behind the scope in the tree to his right. Two. Another one--female this time. A tuft of flaming hair poked out of a bush to his left. Tourists. A scraped finger tapped the ground twice, sending a barely noticeable signal to unseen accomplices between intervals of exactly 5 seconds. Amateurs; One possible gun, weapon of the second unknown. The oldest of the Dandelions sent a battered hand through his thick mahogany hair, shifting among the burrs that currently attempted to stake claim of bits of his clothing. He’d made the calculations, he’d notified the others. The next part was easy. Quietly and without hesitation, his lean form drew up too its full height, shoulders rotating into a square before he lifted a boot, placed it on the ground exactly 2 feet in front of him, and stepped unapologetically out into the sunlight.


    Harley grinned. “I know you’re here.” His hands found tattered pockets, face a perfect mask of cold indifference. He wasn’t lifting his chin towards the bushes, the trees--not even Mercy. His attention set fully honed on the seemingly vacant space muddying the air above the youngest Lion. “Harley” A name. His name. Not surprising, most of White's employees knew him. The space just behind Mercy rippled, tiny white cracks splintering across like a shattering mirror. Suddenly, a slender hand plunged past the fissures and into sight. With this hand came an arm, with this arm a shoulder, and soon an entire body slid completely into the golden glade. A woman--clothed In a ridiculous ensemble composed of a pin-stripe pantsuit and light-looking grey body armor across her chest and arms. Probably the most defining aspect of her fashion sense were two rattle-snake stilettos, which gleaming effortlessly on her heels. Manicured heels. Her freckled nose wrinkled as the remnants of her camouflage dispersed, as though she couldn’t stand to look Harley head-on.
    “It doesn’t matter if an ant knows a foot is about to smash it. “ Her voice was as high as those heels. A burst of light caught his eyes at the tail of her words, gaze flitting to here chest, where a single stripe of cyan-blinking glass blazed there. His eyebrows drew together, focusing on the matching cube now. Their lights flashed in symbiotic unison. “It's all about size with you women, isn’t it?” Harley didn’t consider himself good with comebacks--he usually just fumbled for words and ended up insulting mothers that none of the other Lion’s could recall any memories of…. But she’d asked for that one. The Tourist’s nostrils flared, expression darkening considerably at his quip. She fixed her blouse furiously--clearly not used to being spoken to in such a way. “You lost something, didn’t you?” Ruby lips cracked over a pearly smile. She thrust a head down and tangled it in Mercy’s beige hair, yanking the child to a sitting position. She paused briefly to reach a hand into a discreetly situated suit pocket. Her eyes glittered dangerously as she withdrew a nasty looking switchblade speckled with what Harley knew was not rust
    . The Rattlesnake woman smiled sadly before untwisting Mercy’s hair from her fist. She closed a hand around the shaft of one wing, and used the other to press her blade against the delicate things.


    “Now, how many are with you?”
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    The post was edited 1 time, last by MunDane ().

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    [justify]//track, reading now and will post when I get home from school
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    Vaden
    Waiting.
    That was all that Vaden could do as he hid in the tree a few feet away from the oldest of the kids on the island. Though he wasn't to much older then him, Harvey was the sort of leader of the tiny group of kids on the island because of his age, having survived longer then anyone else. They all pretty much looked up to him, Vaden included. And right now he was waiting for the sign to get Mercy out of the hands of these devils as soon as possible.
    He had gotten the message that Harley had 'said,' and from this point of view he could see the point of the gun and the tuck of bright red hair that was sticking out of thr bushes. Amateurs, just like Harley said. He would of shook his head in disbelief if not for the position he was in and how angry he was. Angry that these Tourists had taken to hunting children, and found it fun. Well, he hoped they found it fun when the hunters turned into the prey when they laid out their plan.
    Turning his attention back to Harley, he found that the older boy had stepped out of the bush, walking toward Mercy and the strange looking cube on the floor. Oh, and not to mention the women that looked to be stepping out of thin air. He would have been amazed if it hadn't been for many Tourists bringing new technology onto the island to try it out while hunting the kids. Most of it works, while some... let's just say it didn't work out for those Tourists. He watched as Harley talked to the women, smirking at the nice comeback that he came up with, knowing first hand how crappy he could be with coming up with them. And then the women had grabbed Mercy by her hair and dragged her up, and when she asked how many of them were there with Harley, he tensed, ready to go through with the plan as soon as Harley gave the signal. He reached toward his right arm where he had already drawn a sword to summon when the time came to use his power. Now it was just a game of waiting.


    Anna
    Anna was ready. She was so, so ready. When she had seen Harley step put into the open after telling them about where the two Tourists were and what they had with them, she was poised to pounce. She knew she was only there just in case the older kids couldn't get the job done but still, it was nice to know she was needed. That if something went wrong she could help. And looking toward Mercy, she was glad she was helping, because of that was her down there, (which could have happened, the Tourists seem to go after the younger ones in the group and she was only fourteen) she would have wanted all the help she could get.
    Anna tensed even more when she saw the women grab Mercy and take out that switch blade spotted with what was most likely blood but could have been rust. She hoped it was rust, but knowing Tourists... To be honest she was a little surprised that the women had stepped out of thin air, or whatever she had done. She hadn't been here long and hadn't seen to many Tourists in her time, but the older kids had warned her about this. The Tourists had advanced technology and she had to be careful. They, especially Vaden, had drilled that into her head over the past few months. But she could worry about advanced technology latter, right now she was on a mission to save Mercy.

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 400px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]aka clung to the tree trunk, wide eyes taking in the scene below, and they bit their lip. to be entirely honest, a small part of her wished they could have just left mercy there - after all, aka had never gotten to know her very well at all, so why should they feel any responsibility to rescue her? - but she shook her head. she shouldn't be entertaining thoughts like that in the first place. mercy, the poor girl, seemed like she was in such awful shape after her stay with the tourists. even from this high up, aka could make out the mass of injuries on mercy's body, the way her wings lay at such awkward angles, the bloodstained ground below her... it was horrifying, to say the least. really, all she wanted to do was leave, and get that awful image of what could come for all of them out of her sight, but she couldn't. it wouldn't be right to leave mercy suffering here like this. they just had to get in, grab mercy, and get out, all without being seen. easy-peasy. it'd be a piece of cake. if the cake was loaded with poison, that is.


    aka sighed. it was a real shame her powers didn't include anything that could actually be of some use to this mission. nope, all she could do today was stay on lookout duty. oh well... she was perfectly happy in such a passive role, anyway. aka was never one for fighting, and besides, there wasn't much that shapeshifting could do today. it wasn't like this was some sort of espionage mission, or something of the sort. lookout suited her just fine, and even if she would have rathered something more hands-on, this would do just fine.


    sweeping pale lavender curls out of their eyes, for what was possibly the billionth time that day, aka hummed a quiet little tune to herself. they'd never really had any idea where they'd picked up that fragment of a melody, but it certainly sounded rather pretty. shame they'd probably never find out what the lyrics were (or even if it had any, for that matter). she turned her attention to the situation below, nodding to herself as she caught sight of harley's signal. amateurs, one armed with a gun, the other unknown. right. that was to be expected, coming to a place that was absolutely swarming with tourists. still, she passed on the message to those waiting further back, before looking back at harley once more.


    curious. it seemed as though one of the tourist's had the ability to simply step out of thin air. or, at least, that was what it appeared like. it was most likely the work of some futuristic shielding technology, or something. aka had to hold back a laugh as she took in the women's outfit. a suit, with body armour only covering her chest and arms? really? didn't the woman realize the whole point of armour was to cover your whole body? there was a whole mountain of vulnerabilities you would leave exposed if you only covered those areas. not to mention the stilettoes. who in their right mind would wear those sort of shoes in the middle of a bloody jungle? aka rolled their eyes. tourists, that's who. well, at least that meant the lady would be easier to take down. in theory, anyway.


    thoughts drifting away from the whole matter of fashion in a warzone, they could only gasp as the foul woman yanked mercy up by the hair, and brought a knife speckled with rust - or maybe blood - to the girl's wing. her lips moved, but aka was too high up to hear what the woman said. she could only hope it was something that wasn't... murdery. but no, that wouldn't be the case. she wouldn't have brought out the knife if she was going to be peaceful. aka bit her lip, and settled back down on her tree branch, only hoping this whole situation could be sorted out soon. [/fancypost]

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    [size=28pt]Theodoshia [color=black]}
    [size=8][color=black]Female * 20 * Second Oldest 'Lion * Terrakinesis[hr][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width:400px][justify][color=black][font=andale mono][size=12]A slim figure stood in the shadows of a tree, arms crossed and gaze strong enough to level mountains, if only possible by their abilities. The cold, unforgiving, grey eyes stared out at the appearing woman, a storm hidden in it piercing irises. The girl, not too much younger than the boy in the field, stood impatiently, eagerly, as if she were to spring forward any moment. In one hand was a long shaft, taller than herself, and in the other, tightly gripped air, as if she were holding something else, something both non-existent but real at the same time, in a different place. Theodoshia was anxious, an emotion she rarely felt, even in the hostile environment of the island. The younger Dandelion was in front of her, beaten, bruised, broken, and she could do little in this moment to save her.


    Theo, in the past couple days, was completely silent. She refused to talk to any other Lions except Harley, and even speech with him was limited. It was not a calming silence, however, it was a frightening one. Her only focus was to save the young Lion from the grips of the Tourists, even so at her own life. The second oldest was constantly trying to venture off on her own, wanting dearly to save Mercy, but knew it was against the rules of the group. Still, it didn't keep her from trying. Not like it would matter now; they were within arm's reach of her.


    The second oldest Lion felt the fire in the pit of her stomach die a little at Harley's signal.
    Amateurs.
    His voiceless words were like a gust of wind, bringing the ship of success ever so closer to their goal. Theodoshia was confident in their plan, and prayed to whoever was watching over them that is would go smoothly, and that the other young Lions would be safe until their return.


    But most likely, her prayer would be like Harley's sign.
    Voiceless.
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    [size=10]Sorry this is a little later, and sorry this is a little rushed. I am still doing a lot of English homework, and it's really killing my muse.[/size]

    The post was edited 1 time, last by Spoopy Boopy ().

    [align=center]--/It's completely fine! English DOES have a definite way of killing muse. Everyone's posts look really good so far--it's really enjoyable to read! I get thadt weekdays and really busy for some, so I don't expect everyone to post wiThin every 5 seconds. Im going to wait for now to reply until I at least get a post from Trello, and everyone els has had ample opportunity to get a post in.

    The post was edited 1 time, last by MunDane ().

    [fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 425px;][justify][size=8]If only it was as easy as games were. In games, you could always try again, even if you ran out of lives. That was how games were designed- so you could try again even if you fail. Because in games, you were supposed to fail, then celebrate when you finally won. But this was the most dangerous game. It was the game of survival, where one person would always try to kill the other. The hunters chase after the hunted, then defend themselves when they then become the hunted. The roles of predator and prey are then reversed, then reversed again. It was an endless, infinite cycle, meaning that the most dangerous game could never be won.


    In the most dangerous game, some players could create their own rules, changing the nature of the game completely. He supposed that the changeable nature of the game was, in fact, its nature. Those such players were the Dandelions. If you took that into account, you'd say that they were at an advantage, since they could create their own rules. But there were also the other players. The other group of players in the most dangerous game could erase those rules with... various things. They had something the Dandelions did not- they had technology, which could do things that rules couldn't. This group of players were the Tourists. If he had to compare the most dangerous game to anything, he'd compare it to a chess game, but only with two pieces- the black king and the white king. And the battlefield would be a three-by-three board. It would be a never-ending cycle, just like the most dangerous game. There was only one major difference- people died. His friends died. People he used to know had died, but he had done nothing to prevent it from happening. He couldn't just sit by like a mere pawn while the kings and queens fought with all their hearts.


    How metaphorical. Absentmindedly, he chewed on a peeling piece of skin on his finger. Observant, dark eyes watched carefully as the Eldest spoke with the Rattlesnake woman. His movements were controlled- he had to stay as quiet as possible. Everything was at stake here, like it was all the time. Nobody could afford to make one misstep. The more he thought about it, the more this game seemed like a chess game. A single poor move could destroy you. But he had a lingering question- which side was white, and which was black? Ah, it didn't matter. Everything was black and white in a game of survival. His body shook with excitement- he couldn't wait until he had a chance to attack. Though, most importantly, he hoped that they'd all return back home safely.


    Ace noted his leader's signal, then rapidly began to run a few attacking ideas through his mind. His probability manipulation allowed him to be creative with his attacks. Should he cause an earthquake? A tornado? No- it was pretty likely that he'd get someone hurt. His ability was frustrating sometimes, so instead, he simply waited for an opportunity to present itself.


    INFORMATION

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    §kŸ wrote:


    --/It's completely fine! English DOES have a definite way of killing muse. Everyone's posts look really good so far--it's really enjoyable to read! I get thadt weekdays and really busy for some, so I don't expect everyone to post wiThin every 5 seconds. Im going to wait for now to reply until I at least get a post from Trello, and everyone els has had ample opportunity to get a post in.


    Okay.....

    I feel like I should fix this paragraph--because its awful and I wrote it at like, 2 in the morning when I could barely keep my eyes open. English does not kill Muse. That's probably the most unintelligent statement I've ever posted ⊙﹏⊙ English HOMEWORK hurts muse for ME, because I feel like I put all that writing effort into that and I'm left with nothing for new ideas. Please excuse my atrocious grammar <3.


    Sidenote: These posts are long, but I'm really opening the possibilities now ╰(◡‿◡✿╰)
    You're fine Flame + Dark, just post when you can c:



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    “Well, I think there’s three of us.”


    Harley didn’t miss a beat--didn’t stop to sneak a sideways glance at concealed companions. The undaunted man tilted his head back, rubbing the back of his neck in what seemed to be contemplative thought. The woman glanced about with visible unease--keeping that trusty blade firmly pressed against Mercy’s wing stem. Her concerns rocketed back to the dandelion she could see. “Where are they?” The Rattlesnake Tourist demanded hungrily. The answer came almost immediately. “I’ve got two in the sky above your sniper,” He jerked his head in the specific Oak’s direction before jabbing a finger towards a large crop of raspberry bushes. “And one behind the b^tch in the bushes.” A noise of confusion from the bushes followed his words, along with disgruntled shifting in the trees. Only the business woman in front of him seemed unphased. “You Dandelions have always been quite the liars.” Her eyes were rounded blocks of solid ice--void of any traceable light or emotion. He met that frigid glare evenly--the warmth and utter blaze of his own irises battling this poorly dressed Tourist’s in discreet fervor. After a few moments--something strange occurred. She dropped Mercy. The armored Tourist’s shoulders melted into a relaxed state--eyes churning dazedly. She brushed off her suit coat with refined elegance, absurd stilettos carrying her over Mercy’s body and on to stop within a few feet of Harley’s unmoving form. “Harley” He had to steel himself against that flinch that convulsed in response to her sickly sweet voice. He hated the fact that these hunters thought they could address him by name--by the only thing that was truly his. “Do you know what this is?” The gallant woman poked a manicured finger at the blinking line on her chest, then made the same motion towards the matching cube placed ominously in front of Mercy’s form. She smiled encouragingly--Harley noticed her up-close wrinkles. “White’s new line of matching weaponry?” His words were combative, but the Lion let a foot slide backwards just a few inches, a hand reaching instinctively for the small dagger strapped to the right side of his belt. The woman let out an unnecessarily obnoxious laugh.


    “It's a bomb.”


    He blinked.


    Why was a Tourist using bombs? They weren’t tactful! They weren’t hunting tools. Harley’s smooth facade receded a bit, gaze boring into the strange woman’s. He couldn’t turn to warn the others; couldn’t give them away in the slightest. “Aren’t you going to ask me to explain?” There was that falsely sweet tone again. He didn’t answer. She huffed in feigned disappointment, digging rattlesnake heels into the innocent Earth below. The tourist thought for a moment then began to take a lap around Mercy and the cube, arms crossed behind her like an impatient professor’s. “This cube’s electromagnetic pulse, you’ve noticed it haven't you?” She poked it with a snake-skin toe, watching hungrily as the beacon palpitated. “It's exactly in tune with my heart rate.” This unnamed hunter turned her face sideways, observing a shrouded covering in the foliage to her right with an odd sort of expectancy. “It's a small scale hydrogen bomb Harley. Blast radius is about a mile.” She turned her oval face back to him, eyes dancing excitedly. “As soon as my heart rate hits 0, it will trigger the explosion.” As soon as? Harley jerked his head to the side--desperately searching for what she had just been looking at. His answer came immediately. “Goodbye Harley.”


    “SARABI!”


    #SEE SARABI'S POST THEN COME BACK AND READ THE REST OF HARLEY'S*


    He watched as that flashing fist hit the smiling woman’s skinny neck--observed numbly as a resounding c rack thundered across his conscious. Her head whipped in an instant--the pure force and rock-hard repercussion of Sarabi’s punch sending the fragile human cranium into a breaking spiral that resulted in pearly bones splintering out at unnatural angles. He didn’t have much time.


    Immediately the dagger was withdrawn, Harley himself tore forward, eyes on the now rapidly-blinking cube as Sarabi, Mercy, and the RattleSnake Tourist hit the ground in separate areas. “Theodosia!” He did not turn around--he didn’t need too. Inside the second oldest’s name was every word he needed to say; ‘Get them to safety. If I don’t make it, you know what to do.’ Every inch and span of his racing mind was focused on the cube as suddenly, it clicked. In that instant, he reached up almost imperceptibly, and dragged the serrated edge of his weapon across a large white scar that ran jaggedly along his jawline before he made one final leap for the cube.


    Willow.


    Time seemed to run in slow-motion for Harley. His shoulder collided painfully with the golden earth, crimson blood spraying the air as his summoning resounded throughout the clearing. The monster hurled itself from him with one purpose. Willow’s gnarled shadow body collided with the cube as soon as its heartbeat radar hit zero. The implosion began--luminescent light searing cracks in the cube until Harley’s monster did something rather painful. It hugged the hydrogen bomb as though it were a delicate infant. For a moment, all was dark and quiet. Then Harley’s eardrums imploded. The shattering explosion--even muffled by Willow’s gaunt body--resounded deafeningly and shook him to his very core. It thundered and shrieked and screamed of the life that had just been lost, but no fire spewed forth. No brimstone and lava eliminated the forest about. Deep yellow crack’s appeared in the summoned Tourist soul--but the only explosion that came next was from Harley. Here was the result of the fatal catch to his ability--any damage done to one of his souls with inflicted on him by 3%. This was a Hydrogen bomb. The oldest convulsed sickeningly--the skin along his stomach where Willow now hugged the bomb bubbling--charring--than peeling all in a sickening sequence. He cried out in incoherent noises, fingers tearing at the barley while more burns raced along his chest now--beginning to extend along his neck. Willow remained perfectly still and complacent, shielding it’s master and his loved ones simultaneously--but Harley continued to shake in agony.


    In all the commotion of shielding his family, Harley had forgotten about the other Tourists. The second woman rose from her compromised position--ruby hair tied in a tight braid--clothes camouflage and form-fitting. She wordlessly carried something akin to a rocket-launcher. Carelessly the female, who looked to be about forty and wore large black shades, stepped over Mercy and a semi-conscious Sarabi before coming to stand where Harley once had--directly in front of the other Dandelions. She hoisted the blaster up to her shoulder before pointing it to the forest. The barely began to glow red hot before impossible pillars of maroon flames billowed forth and into the trees. The objective was to keep them away. It was quiet when the man dropped from the tree--brandishing something of a high-tech shotgun. He was dressed like a 90’s cowboy--mustache dirty with chewed tobacco. He mosied forward to Harley as the Lion moaned lowly, watching mercilessly as the charring grew deeper. Would he die from this? The Tourist cocked his gun, then set a steel-toed boot on Harley’s writhing chest. He shoved the gun into the hollow of the animal's throat. Yes, he would.
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    This was pointless. Caramel locks fell down lightly freckled shoulders--falling in the sight path of two brooding emerald visionaries. Sarabi had crouched in the ample shade of an evergreen just south of every other soul in her parameter, every toned muscle of her lithe figure ridged with unadulterated fury. The 16 year old Dandelion couldn’t stand this any longer. She’d patiently agreed to ‘Let Harley handle this.’ Watched in anxious fervor as he confronted this group… But they were running out of time. She’d made her decision as far back as when this unnamed woman set her blade to Mercy’s exquisite wings. Harley would accomplish nothing by insulting her, and Sarabi was tired of letting these fruitless negotiations go further. The girl--clothed in nothing more than baggy short and a loose-fitting salmon linen top--maneuvered forward--crawling till she came to the edge of her cover. She nearly jolted backward, however, when suddenly the confrontational tourist her leader had been exchanging pleasantries with tured that chipped gaze on her exact position. Instantaneously alabaster diamonds exploding from her fingertips and raced uper her arm, jutting up over her shoulder and half her face. This Rattlesnake woman knew she was going to die. Sarabi would wait no longer. She hadn’t heard the Tourist’s explanations--nor heeded the warnings. With a guttural cry of purified rage, the young lion bunched every aching muscle--erased every scrap of doubt--then hurled herself from the bushes. She didn’t have far to travel. One step from the bushes and she flung her slender form into the air--drawing that fatal arm of unpolluted diamonds back. She would not miss her target, and most certainly would not miss Harley’s violent shout.


    “SARABI!”
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    The post was edited 1 time, last by MunDane ().

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    [size=28pt]Theodoshia [color=black]}
    [size=8][color=black]Female * 20 * Second Oldest 'Lion * Terrakinesis[hr][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width:400px][justify][color=black][font=andale mono][size=12]Theodosia grumbled under her breath; she disliked being called by that name. It was the one White gave her, so therefore she despised it. At least being called Theo gave her a faintest sense of freedom.
    That, however, wasn't important, so she shoved the thought into the back of her mind.


    The second oldest Dandelion ran out towards Mercy, only to ne stopped by the woman with the rocket launcher. Skidding to a halt not too far from the rattlesnake woman, Theo took a moment to look at the battlefield. The woman with the rocket launcher, the rattle snake woman, Mercy's unconscious body, Sarabi, and Harley, and the veil of death.


    Something snapped instantly inside the Lion. A thick blanket of fear covering herself. If Harley were to die, she would be in charge. That wouldn't be the worst thing however, but the psychology of it: she would not be mentally ready for something like that. Yes, they were supposed to protect the youngest, but who daid the oldest weren't important either.


    Theodoshia took a stupid, risky move. Using the staff, which was a metal post froma tourist tent, she ran up and knocked the futuristic shotgun away from Harley, even if the Tourist still had it in his hands, following with a swift ramp of the pole to his face. Finally, raising her second arm, a wall of rock seperated the two, Theo's eyes glowing with rage.


    "You have have opening... Go." she hissed, her hands trembling.


    Those were her first words in nearly a week.
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    [size=6pt]★


    ...

    IN the bushes, a girl stood, her eyes lashing as she watched the events transpired. Harley was brave, and it made her wishe she could be that brave, even if she already was. His roders were to stay and hide until the signal was given. Was that it? Her head tilted as she watched the eldest Lion give the signal. She immediately stared at the bomb and focused on herself, elongating her spatial waves. Despite the slowed reaction around her, she was too late to prevent the calamitous results that happened. Time seemed to go faster as she watched the tourist stagger from Sarabi's tackle, then harley throw out one of his summons to block the hydrogen bomb. She watched in slow motion as the bomb's shock wave spread out in all directions. She tried to evade it, but felt her eardrums pop from the air pressure as the wave cascaded over her, stumbling her back a bit. The shockwave disrupted her state of reverie, time flowing normally, or at least, for her. Struggling to tear her mind away, she focused on the tourists once more. Harley was in immense pain, his body withering under the intense flames being held by Willow. ONe of the tourists pulled out what looked to be a rocket launcher but to her surprise sent out a plume of flame that scythed back and forth across the forests, barely reaching her. She shied away from the heat, temporarily paralyzed by fear before her dominant mind took over. She pivoted backwards and jumped up, pulling herself up to a tree branch and pulling out a single knife. It was the only knife she owned,. but she had been practicing. She took a deep breath, asserting her perception slowing. She flung the knife with precision, it's entire blade streaking through the air towards the tourist, the only sign of it's imminent coming a small whistle of air as the sharp blade sliced through air molecules.


    There went her only ranged weapon. The only thing she had left was a combat knife she had picked up from a dead tourist. She didn't have experience with a sword or any other bigger weapon, asides from maybe a gun. She hoped to take one off of these guys. Her blue eyes flickered towards the wall of rock no seprating Theodosia and Harley away from the tourist with the shotgun. She couldn't dodge a shotgun blast, but she could certainly blindside him. She jumped down and focused her mind on one thing: Tackle the man.
    She ran forward, her perception of time distorting everything around. Things in her vision elongated as she ran faster than what one would expect, but not outside the parameters of a superhuman. She lunged through the air and attempted to slam into the tourist and knock him down.


    OC: Hope I did alright

    [align=center][fancypost bgcolor=#F6CEEC; height: 180px; width: 400px; border: none;]

    [fancypost bgcolor=white; background: url(http://67.media.tumblr.com/6a4…67tcWCIY1u4ciozo2_400.jpg) center; background-size: cover; height: 130px; width: 110px; border: solid 5px white; margin-top: 10px; margin-left: 5px;][/fancypost] [fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: none; width: 220px; height: 200px; text-size: 9px; color: black; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; line-height: 13px; margin-top: 10px; margin-left: -5px;]NAME: Peter
    AGE: 16
    PRONOUNS: He, his, him
    SIDE/POWERS: Dandelion / Verbally and telepathically talk to animals




    “I HOPE YOU LIKE THE STARS I STOLE FOR YOU”

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    IC
    Peter stood deep inside the brush surrounding the small clearing where the tourist held Mercy captive. Beside him stood his best friend, whom was a black panther named Athena, while to his left stood his other good friend, Ace. He couldn't remember where the others stationed themselves, fore he was too concentrated on if there was going to be an actual fight, or this would go down without a quarrel.


    These rarely go down as quarrels..you should know that by now. Athena communicated mentally with Peter. Peter was used to having a panther's voice inside his head, even sometimes he could feel Athena's feelings. The adrenaline when the panther is out on a hunt, tired, angry, happy, relaxed, any other feeling. Peter wasn't empathetic, no. But he could reach out to Athena and feel what she was thinking...if that made any sense. Sometimes it was overwhelming to feel something else's emotions as if they were your own. Sometimes when Peter is stressed, he can hear all of the animals' thoughts. It's like a big loud circus inside your head that never ends.


    Well, things always change. Nothing happens the same way twice. Peter replied optimistically, though there was obvious panic in his voice. Athena rolled her sea-green eyes. Peter's heart was beating so hard and loud, he thought the tourist and the whole island could hear him. It became loud, and he felt like blood was pumping in his ears as Harley gave the signal. Athena's muscles tensed under her night black pelt, readying to attack if necessary. Peter slightly tensed as well, but he was not ready to fight. He hoped with all his might that he wouldn't have to fight.


    Then everything seemed to happen in less than a second. Peter stared wide-eyed as Sarabi revealed herself out of the bushes, and smacked the tourist with her stone-like arm. He covered his mouth with both hands, small tears forming in his eyes as he saw bones sticking out in unusual directions on the tourist woman. He hoped she wasn't dead, but he had a gut feeling she was.


    Then there was the wave. Too shocked by the site of the unconscious tourist on the ground, Pete didn't prepare himself for the wave. He suddenly felt a huge headache come over him, and a loud pop! sound in his ears. Athena ducked pushed him over so he didn't the wave didn't hit Pete full on.


    We need to get out of here! Pull yourself together! Athena growled. "Yeah-yeah right-right." Peter said, wiping tears from his eyes as the flames started to surround them from the rocket launcher."Let's get Mercy out of there." He added; no way was he going to fight, or have Athena fight. Although he could tell she wouldn't think twice about ripping one of the tourist's heads off. Even though Athena had thoughts like a human from being around Peter and the other Lions for as long as they have been here, her animal instincts still ran in her DNA.


    Peter and Athena shot out of the bushes, keeping there heads low and making sure not to get in the way of any battles. They were close to Mercy's unconscious body before the other woman tourist stepped right in front of them. With an evil smirk, she pulled out a handgun and aimed it at Peter's head.. Before Pete could react, Athena threw herself at the tourist. He could feel and hear the bullet whisk by him, barely missing his head. Peter looked away as Athena wrapped her sharp teeth around the woman's head, and continued his way to Mercy. He quickly yet gently picked up the young girl in his arms, and ran into the bush and trees that weren't on fire.


    Peter fought back tears as he heard guns shots and screams behind him. He had to get Mercy to safety first, and make sure she was alright. Then he would go back to help. He didn't want to fight, but he wanted to make sure his friends were okay.


    Once they were about 50 feet from the action, Pete stopped and laid Mercy behind a bush. Peter wiped some sweat away from his forehead, and he tried to even his breathing. He hasn't carried a person and ran that hard before. He knelt down beside the young Dandelion, debating what to do. He slowly poked her face gently. Once his finger touched her skin, he jumped back, expecting her to pop up.



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    The post was edited 1 time, last by DΛЯK GЦΛЯDIΛП ӨF ƬΉΣ ЦПIVΣЯƧΣ ().

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    serpah wings and 'emptying'[/fancypost]
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    As always, it was quiet. Quiet voices had been luring her in and out on consciousness for weeks. The forest wasn't as loud as usual. There weren't birds singing in the mornings, little animals scurrying about the forest floor seemed to be missing; and the morning sounds of her family couldn't be found. Harley wasn't pacing, Theo wasn't telling her a story in Russian, Sarabi wasn't laughing at her failed attempts of braiding her hair; none of them were there. It was dark, lonely. The voices, previously quiet and kind, were growing in intensity by the day, shrieking and hurting her. They would do terrible things— her wings, her precious, seraph wings, were slowly sliced off each morning, left to bleed and grow back before being ripped off once more the next day. They, along with her own eyes, were grey and withered from stress. She was stuck in her own unconscious hell.


    'Mercy! Mercy, the precious little girl. This must be her. She's grown, that's for sure. Still looks like a brat, though. Geez, some things never change, do they?' That one voice; so sweet, so kind, but also rugged and sharp. Like a blade meant for butter being used for slaughter. It brought back a certain feeling. A feeling she didn't have a name for. One that she felt every single day. The cold sweat running down the back of your neck as you flee from people with guns. Not fear, but something more.


    In an out of consciousness, a normal state of being for Mercy. But as the cold blade cut into her wing for the millionth time in the past weeks, she rocketed back into full consciousness. It didn't hurt; pain was a feeling she had almost forgotten, but more of a shocking awareness that her family was there, and they may be in trouble. Although her crystal eyes didn't dare open, a mental image of the scene happening around her played out clearly in her mind. Her little heart tried to keep up with the intensity of the situation, almost skipping a beat as the shouts of Harley and the loud crack of what she could only imagine being bone. There was a loud crash, one that would have deafened her for life if not for the tips of her frail wings rushing up to cover her ears. The situation seemed deadly, and at that moment the small brunette wanted nothing more than to open her mouth and scream; not in anger, but in prayer. Despite all that she'd lost on this island, her faith was not one of them. And if she was truly an angel from the heavens (as the older 'lions would tell her), there must also be a god of some sort willing to aid her family in this time of need. For a moment it felt as if she might actually be able to open her eyes and call out, but that strength was taken from her as she was scooped up and carried into the foliage. She didn't know who had brought her into the forest, but due to the calming aroma of flowers, her best guess was Peter, on of the dandelions she simply adored. Opening one aqua pupil to focus on the boy, a smile cracked her lips.


    "Peter, whatever you do," her voice was hoarse and shaky from her weeks of endless screaming. "Make those tourists beg for mercy"


    --Sorry for not posting sooner! This week and next week are the tech weeks for my production, so I'll be a bit inactive. I'll be posting as much as I can, though!
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    The post was edited 1 time, last by ｓｐｏｏｐｙ trello ().

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 400px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]aka was never one to swear, but if there was a more appropriate situation to do so, well, they'd rather not find out. they could only watch on in horror as this awful chain of events unfolded. it was like watching a car accident, she mused. terrible, awful to behold, and yet - you couldn't take your eyes off it. she saw peter pull mercy to safety, and let out a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. well, good. at least they'd gotten one part of the mission right. now that that was sorted, they could all make a break for it, and go back to their home. at least, that was the plan. except - things weren't exactly going as planned, were they? harley was down (but not out, as she could only hope), mercy looked absolutely wrecked, tourists were swarming everywhere... things weren't really looking good.


    why wasn't anybody going to help harvey? he was still there, convulsing and jerking and all in all looking like he was in horrible pain, but aka couldn't see anybody on their way to help him. maybe somebody was, but from their viewpoint, he was on his own. she clenched her jaw. she didn't particularly want to throw herself into the fray, but if it meant getting harvey out of there... they slid down from their perch in the tree, landing on both feet, and took a deep breath. right, how was she going to this? looking like she did, she was sure to bring attention to herself, and she would be of no help if she got into trouble... well, at least that was easily fixed.


    she closed her eyes, and focused on the image of a tourist she'd seen a few weeks previous. bit by bit, her features morphed into that of the woman's, grey skin turning pale and freckled, blank white eyes turning green, lavender hair turning brown and lengthening enough to almost appear as though it was cascading down her back like a waterfall. her figure shifted and changed, and with seconds, she was an exact copy of the tourist. well, not exactly. the clothes were wrong, but she couldn't exactly force fabric to reconfigure its appearance, like she could with her body. oh well. hopefully the face she had, erm, 'borrowed,' would be good enough. and if not, she just had to pray that the chaos of the battlefield caused the tourists to not pay too much heed to the fact that she was wearing the wrong thing. it was always a curious feeling, shapeshifting. it was almost as though her body was simply modelling clay, or putty, or something.


    sweeping brunette curls out of her eyes, aka ran out of the trees, heading straight towards harley's prone body. she skidded to a stop, and knelt down beside the leader of their little band of misfits. "it's aka, don't worry," she blurted out, trying to reassure him. right, now the hard part. carrying him back. she braced herself, and heaved him up into her arms. i am not fit.[/fancypost]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 400px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]ever since the day they had taken mercy, scarlet had been on edge. when it came time for them to rescue the child, she was relieved. now all the dandelions crawled through the forest, making their way to where mercy was being kept. upon reaching their destination, the girl hugged the ground, her body trembling in anticipation. she watched as harley stepped out of his cover. she let her gaze travel everywhere she could see. she could pick out the scents of the tourists and the sounds they made from where they were waiting.


    a chill raced down her spine as she saw the tourist woman step out and speak. she looked over at where theo was hidden before looking back to where harley stood, talking to the woman. her outfit was ridiculous but she was more than equipped to kill harley at any moment. the girl watched as she cut mercy's wing, anger bubbling beneath her skin. her eyes narrowed in on the woman as she watched closely. She carefully slinked forward towards the edge of her own cover.


    that was when all h.ll broke loose. sarabi lunged out, smashing the tourist with her rock cladded arm. she noticed the cube that began to flash as harley cut open a scar and one of his shadows appeared. scarlet had just lunged from the bushes when the explosion occurred. the sound pierced her ears, rattling her to the bone as she fell from the agonizing pain. after it had stopped, it took her a few minutes before she could force herself to move again. shaking her head, she looked around at the tourists that had appeared. before she could pick her victim, she saw someone run out of the bushes. she thought it was a tourist at first before realizing it was one of the lions. it was aza.


    she watched as the girl raced over to harley, finding her intentions to be to save him. realizing what would happen if the girl didn't receive help, scarlet rushed forward. sliding to a stop in front of the two, she took in his wounds. 'hold on harley. you'll be okay.' she said, helping aka lift him. 'ready?' she looked over to aka, positioning herself to start walking back towards the trees. at least right then, they'd be safer. the sound of sizzling skin was sickening to scarlet's ears as they prepared to move harley off the battle field.[/fancypost]