Hydaelyn Role-Players
Go for Gold [[NSFW, OOC welcome! Closed.]] - Printable Version

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Go for Gold [[NSFW, OOC welcome! Closed.]] - Oscare - 09-03-2014

[[If you want to reply to anything seen here, or reply with criticism, shoot me a PM and reply! This is generally my improvement/word vomit thread.]]

This entry is dated as the Third Sun of the Fifth Astral Moon.
"Ugh." The highlander puffs out, staring at the window with an empty gaze. He rolls his shoulders, stretching his large muscles and neck. The dark toned man runs a hand through his beard, testing the length. "Good. No need to shave for now." He turns in a completely perfect ninety degree angle.

Purple eyes falls upon on the wall, practically stabbing into them. He silences, debating within himself. So many things happened, so many people. Everything steeled his spirit an emotions. Read as: hes as emotional as a rock. 

He crawls into his bed, falling flat on his face and knocking out 

This ends the entry for today.

RE: The Collected World [[Closed-ish]] - Unnamed Mercenary - 09-03-2014

It was another day full of nothing. Franz was leaning against a wall at the Quicksand, having decided that perhaps an ale in the morning would make the same, boring Eorzean food more interesting. Without any notable conflicts or people to talk to, it didn't take long for his wandering eyes to stop on the sight of Oscare as he made his way down the stairs from the Hourglass Inn.

He hadn't spoken to Oscare in a while, and with rumors of his freakout at a past Grindstone, he was honestly hoping to see something like it happen again. Just a little. Cutting through the middle of the pub, he called out.

"Hey! Oscare!"

RE: The Collected World [[Closed-ish]] - Oscare - 09-04-2014

Busy, busy day! Or, at least, he pretended it was when he heard the ever-so familiar voice. Ugh. For days. Turning around in a half-circle, the dark toned man faced Franz and puffs out a sigh. 

"Hello." Oscare actually managed to reply, which is a rarity for him towards Franz. Can't forget the time he got cleaved by an axe.

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This entry is dated as the 4th Sun of the Fifth Astral Moon.


"I wonder..." Oscare hums in his dark room in the Goblet, flipping pages on a little book on his desk. A small little lamp was the only thing that lit the room, which didn't really do too much of an excellent job as it only lit Oscare's little desk. He turned through the book, skimming through each page and giving them at maximum a two second glance. Though as brief as he read, he seemed to be looking for something.

"Where did I put that?" He creeps through the room and places the book in his shelf, fishing out for another one. "I could've sw---"

The entry abruptly ends here.

RE: The Collected World [[Closed-ish]] - Oscare - 09-07-2014

This entry is dated on the Seventh Sun of the Fifth Astral Moon.


A very deathly silence fell upon the stone cold room. No window opened, no candles a lit. Oscare was slouching next to his bed, looming over a long, metallic case. Sniffs and sobs were muffled, as if remembering very painful memories. 

Boom. Boom. Click. Scream. Past tales loomed in his ears, filling up the void of the silence. He covered one of his ears with a hand, but he focused on the case at hand. He popped open the lock, and out came two items that still glistened and shined through the darkness with a beautiful luster of silver.

The first was an obvious for an ex-sniper like Oscare -- a sniper rifle. He lifts the machine, turning it around and viewing it at ever angle like someone who's never seen a gun before in their life. He checked the barrel, still in good condition. Loads up fine, unloads fine. He places the tool back into it's comfortable position and lifts the other item. Or, in this case...

A set of them. A long chain with two dog tags. Just looking at the tags caused Oscare to tear up, doubling over and trying to stop the tears. "If only... that hadn't happened. I wouldn't be in this shit hole..." He weeps and groans, but to no avail.

"... 'The day you set outside these lines, you're destined to fail.', General Wildfire? You were right. I guess I was, but at least I stole the two most important things in my life." He gives the tags one last look, before putting it back in the case and locking it, shoving it back down the highlander's bed. "Jancis is right. I need to do something about this." He clenches a fist, standing back up.

"I need to find them again... just to make sure they're alive, maybe to put this crap behind me."
 
The entry ends here.

RE: The Collected World [[Closed-ish]] - Oscare - 09-19-2014

This entry is dated as The Eighteenth Sun of the Fifth Astral Moon.


Oscare can be seen writing a letter among a dimly lit room.
Dear sweet Jancis,
  I hope you are well.

My sister Kanah loved the flowers you sent her, and she asked all kinds of questions about you. They've received your wonderful letters, and have always pounced of the subject of you whenever I visit. It's heartwarming, really. I never thought I could go into great detail of a woman in my life, it's strange.

Kanah kept asking; "What's she like?! Do you know her favorite color?! What's her birthstone?! Her diety?! Are you a couple yet?! Can she actually tolerate your boasts?!", and when I asked her why she was so curious, she said she was so prepared to be an aunt. It's kind of disturbing.

Grace also sent you her regards, my mom on the same inquiry boat as Kanah. But she was a little bit more passive about it. "When are you two getting married? Do I get to be a grandmother before I die...? Oh, that would put such a light in this poor woman's eyes..."

I think I forgot to tell you that my mom is gravely sick. Grace's birth took a toll on her, tales spread that she was an ace marksman -- until he met my father. They moved to Vesper Bay to live in peace and had three little kids (mind you, we're not so 'little' anymore). It's a thing that runs in the family, I suppose. Except for Kanah, she's more of a book type person. I heard that lately, she was recently accepted as a summoner. She was just accepted as a scholar two years ago! She has quite the knack of studying and absorbing information like a sponge. 

Anyway, the subject of this letter is simple. I'm sorry for being so... eccentric the last couple of meets we had. I may have let my emotions get the better of me, with all these other things happening. Anyway, at your earliest convenience, I would pray you let me another chance to mend things properly. 

  Much love and appreciation,
                                          Oscare
The entry ends here on the note of Oscare folding up the sheet.

RE: Go for Gold [[Closed, NSFW, OOC welcomed!]] - Oscare - 01-22-2015

May be considered NSFW, has a small scene of nudity.
This entry is recorded as the twenty-second sun of the First Astral Moon.


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"Say..." Oscare crosses his arms, looking at the mirror before him. "Where'd Sire Armstrong get that armor anyway? I wish I had some of that in archer size." Oscare flicks around his drawer, disappointment tugging his lips down into a frown. "Regardless, a couple of days away from humanity sounds nice. I won't have to deal with people, just going to be by myself. Lovely." The highlander scoffs, taking a look at the mirror again. 

"Everyday, I see something new." He whispers lightly, a hand instinctively scratching at his scarred cheek. "Apparently I'm white haring," Oscare plucks the single white hair string -- something so insignificantly small that only a sniper with his vision would be able to spot. And, of course, being a sniper, he spotted it. 

Transitioning himself from the drawers to his desk, Oscare shuffles through countless documents. Maps, letters (mostly from Jancis), plumes, empty ink bottles, scrap junk and blueprints. Loud clangs echo through the silent and mildly empty room, originating from countless sheets of metal and screwdrivers that fell off the table. "Where the hell..." More shuffling between a mess until a nice, teensy silver box decides to reveal itself. A grin forms as the highlander pops open the case to reveal a small handgun, triumphant humming after defeating the mound of unfinished papers and incomplete projects. The luster of the metal reflects off the miniature toy magitek Oscare kept for decoration on the table, a sign of good care for the weapon. 

"It's going to be dangerous, so let me take more weapons." Oscare hops off his chair with the handgun still clenched, walking over to the other side of the room and opening up a closet. Or more appropriately named -- his armory.

A wide array of weaponry and "junk" welcomes the dark toned man, as well as clothes and pairs of shoes and boots. "Let's see here... a handgun, arrows, and rifle should do. Maybe bring some flashbangs and grenades in case things get hot. I can always make myself molotovs if worse comes to worst," He comments to himself, retrieving his gears of choice. A quiver, a bow, arrows, long-gun holster, and several small black devices. "And since we're going to a desert, we can shed some of this junk."

Oscare strips himself of his clothes, sleevess vest slipping off his shoulders, hard leather landing with a thud on the ground. He undoes the belt holding up the kecks, letting the pants just slide on off. Goggles come off next, his arms flexing over the top of his head to unhook the protective lens off. The bulkier-than-leaner man runs a hand down his massive bicep, flicking at the practically steel-hard muscles. "I'm still in good condition after such a long time." He tells himself, clearly proud of his grotesque body. "I can afford to be a little more showy every once in a while." 

Oscare reaches for a set of leather clothing and thighboots. Unfolding the clothes, the highlander tilts his head side-to-side, judging the set. After a series of looks, a nod follows. Good enough. 

Pants on first, one leg up and through. Other leg up and through. A skin tight pair of leather shorts that don't even fully go down his thighs is now donned, comfortable and flexible enough for full groin down mobility. He puts on his thighboots, covering up to where the shorts end. A chainmail kneepad is attached on each boot for defense and offense, being knee'd by one of those stings. Hard. 


Oscare puts on a leather belt satchel, small vials and holsters for various amounts of things. Oscare clips his handgun holster onto the belt as well, tightening it to make sure it's on and not slipping when he shakes his hips. The chest piece consists of nothing but the leather strap from waist to shoulder across and over his chest, lined with bullet casings, ammo, and quiver on the back. His long-gun holster goes right on his left shoulder, the rifle lined up nice and neatly straight down from his shoulder to his waist -- exactly the length of the holster. The bow is slung over his back, accompanying the rifle. His chest was bare, but it didn't matter much where he was going. The Amal'jaa are good casters, so armor or not, a fire spell would blow the man to smithereens.

Thus, he needs to blow their brains out before they did. He picks up just a couple more things -- those things being some snake oil, a net, and vials of different colored fluids. He grabs a canteen too, all these things being stuffed into different pockets of his belt satchel. Now he looked like a grade-A hunter, or better yet, warrior. Remarkable stature, face paint stripe, and perfect physique are all green and good to go. 

"It's go time," He chuckles, making his leave towards the door. 

These were going to be a series of long, hot desert days.
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This ends the entry for the day.
[[Enjoy hunter manmeat.]]

RE: Go for Gold [[NSFW, OOC welcome! Closed.]] - Oscare - 01-24-2015

This entry is recorded as the twenty-third sun of the First Astral Moon.


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The day blazes even in the night. Oscare takes a deep breath, choking afterwards from sand flowing into his lungs. He had his sniper in his hands, ready and trusty just in case. He was no longer close to home, and everything out here could easily get the flank on him from no where. Little Ala Mhigo was in the vicinity too, and he didn't really have too much of a great rep with Ala Mhigo. With luck, he did not have to cross path with that crowd.

Slow steps forwards, the sand continues to deepen and sink. But it doesn't hinder Oscare's progress towards the Brotherhood of the Ash. In fact, it encourages him to move faster to seek more stable footing, heading ever more east to finally find this stupid group of lizard people. The trek was long and the moon starts to fade behind the clouds, darkening the world ever more. 

Rifle clutched tightly against his chest, the highlander continues moving towards his target. "There isn't much out here tonight, it seems," Oscare comments to himself, a scorpion buddy seeming to have walked with him. After tagging along on his boot, the scorpion hops off and digs into the sand quietly. Within sight was the Sunken Temple. This brightens the man's spirits ever so slightly -- it meant that the Brotherhood was close. Running towards the temple, voices started to rouse from the previously dead night. A better sign -- that meant there were people or amalj'aa around. Hopefully the latter, and even more the Brotherhood of Ash. An encounter with a follower of Ifrit would spell the end of Oscare right then and there.

It was only a couple of minutes before Oscare arrives on the steps of the meeting stones for the beastial tribe. There, the voices were arguing. Beast-like roars, shouting, and yelling. Seems like a great time to intrude with the wrong people. Hopping up the steps, the highlander was greeted in not-so-welcome arms.

Two amal'jaa immediately point at Oscare with their bows, looking between each other and Oscare. There were too many series of deep grumbly voices happening at once to really pick up on any single phrase comprehensively. Oscare just looks awkward with his rifle held up to the air and looking at the two amalj'aa threatening him. After the voices slowly die out, a commanding call forces the two to lower their bows and step away. An incredibly bulky amalj'aa makes himself clear to Oscare. The lizard was easily eight fall tall, and Thaliak-Knows-How-Many ponze he weighs. The presumably leader shoves his chest right into Oscare's face, causing the highlander's nose to wrinkle from the awful musky stench. He speaks in a low, rumbly voice just like all the others.

"A hyur from the high lands! Auggh Roh, what is the meaning of this?! You enlist more of these filthy Eorzeans to assist you! This is why you fail!"

'He's calling ME filthy? This guy reeks enough to make the shower-less people in Pearl Lane feel clean.' Oscare holds back the snark in his head, knowing full aware that this asshole could open him in half with his bare hands. Scooting around Oscare, the Leader finally makes himself gone with the two archers and a long train of other amalj'aa following suit. A small group of three amalj'aa approach Oscare immediately afterwards. 

"I apologize," speaks a equally bulky as the previous Leader beastman speaks. "I am Stonefist Auggh Roh. These two are my loyalest servants; Quicksilver Dabuzaa Roh and Speedtongue Adeptagg Chah." Stonefist formally introduces the three of them, all bowing their heads at once. "Tell me, highland born, why you are here."

Oscare tilts his head in response briefly. "I'm part of a free company called the Astral Agents," he began. "My leader, Berrod Armstrong, of Ala Mhigo, told me to assist the tribe in exchange of partnership in your territory of southern Thanalan." Oscare nods. "I'm Oscare. I'm a trained sniper and hunter -- I'm also a machinist and entertainer. I have many uses, so feel free to use me to your liking while I stay." 

Stonefist's expression brightens greatly. "-- Yes. You came at a good moment, Oscare. The adversary you faced just then is known as Stoneglare Blitzagg." Blitzagg? Something told Oscare that this guy was already not someone who was a pushover. "He is one of the many leaders chosen by Ifrit, and has been clashing with our Brotherhood in hopes of our extinction or regain in trust in Their Lord. Unfortunately, I do not have the power to put a halt in his progress. My brethren have tried and failed to bring Stoneglare down -- but to no avail. We are in dire need of allies, highlander." Stonefist delivers to a closed-eyes Oscare, listening intently. 

"So you want Stoneglare dead, yeah? That's something I can do." Oscare shrugs.

Quicksilver is first to respond. "It is not as easy as you make it be, ally. We, beastmen that are much stronger than you, have tried and failed. It will be impossible for you," he scowled, Oscare responding in an indifferent look and Stonefist raising an open palm towards Quicksilver. 

"Ally. I appreciate your help. Quicksilver is reactive to bad opinion of your Eorzean non-beastial races. Trust me when I state this, I will make sure advancement is made between your company and the Brotherhood whence the threat is eliminated." Stonefist eyes the sandy Oscare up and down, clearly pleased with what he was looking at. "You are strong and of good health, ally. You traveled long to be here. Sleep here tonight and rest -- we shall discuss plans in the morn." Stonefist turns, the other two turning with him. "We will leave you to your peace." Stonefist muses and walks away, the other two following silently and promptly.

Oscare goes off to do his own antics. He takes advantage of the lonely reprieve to create a fire near the edge of the Brotherhood meeting stones and sitting down by it. Eventually he'd sleep.

Hopefully.
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The ends the record of this entry.

RE: Go for Gold [[NSFW, OOC welcome! Closed.]] - Oscare - 01-25-2015

This entry is recorded as the twenty-fourth sun of the First Astral Moon.
[[LOTS OF BLOOOOOOOOOD.]]
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This is day one under the care of the Brotherhood.

The desert's burning rays were what Oscare awoke too, scratching at his eyes. "Damn, and I thought it was hot in the Goblet..." Oscare lets out with a yawn accompanied immediately afterwards. He scoots out of the tent he created right outside of the Brotherhood perimeters, looking up at the meeting stones. "Okay." He simply says, climbing up the steps after grabbing his gear.

The meeting stones were buzzing about with many large beastialmen, moving about and waking up each member and motioning for the night watchers to take their rest. Stonefist approached Oscare and greets with a bow of his head. "Morning, ally." He growls out, a little obvious that he just only recently awoke. "I have a mission for you if you are ready this morn."

Oscare tilts his head towards Stonefist and nods. "Good," Stonefist says. "Then you are to take Adeptagg with you and head to the Tempered Circle south of here. Ifrit's burning sense of hatred seems to grow ever stronger and is resonating with the tempered." Stonefist says, half-warning like. "Do not tread lightly, the tempered are savages. If you can get rid of them, it will help against the resistance they put up and give us opportunity to strike at Blitzagg without outside hazard." 

"Makes sense, even if it's busy work." Oscare looks out to where Stonefist had pointed. South? Truth be told, Oscare had never actually personally dealt with too much tempered. Oscare looks back to Stonefist and nods, Quicktongue emerging suddenly behind Oscare. Reflexively, Oscare twists his head to Quicktongue -- who was the one who made a snark towards Oscare. Quicktongue doesn't look too pleased to be with Oscare, but doesn't say anything about it.

Stonefist motions for the two to go, prompting the duo to do as assigned. After two two had exited the meeting stone and started heading north, Quicktongue speaks when they cross the bridge.

"You." He says. That's it.

Oscare twists his head as they walk. "Yeah?"

"Nothing."

"Okay."

Awkward much? Very. It was only a matter of time before the two find themselves in an expansive, dried out grass plain. Tumbleweed flies around everywhere, but it was a better sight than just nonstop sand blowing in the face. Oscare throws his hand in the air to catch sandless wind in his arm. He then throws up the air, stretching his whole mass of bulk. A yawn, series of grunts, ended by a long exhale and rolling of the shoulders. Taking steps forwards and cracking the sanded over gross, Oscare looks all over in search of enemies. 

Quicktongue copies this motion, looking about. A voice not belonging to either of them is heard -- just small whispers. Oscare and Quicktongue back up into each other, back-to-back and spinning around in search of the whisper. The wind whirs, a notion Oscare follows. 

"The wind whispers," Oscare says, Quicktongue responding with a sort of "are you crazy" look. "I know this -- Oschon does not lie." Oscare continues, closing his eyes and hearing the wind. A tumbleweed rolls in and follows the wind, causing Oscare to open his eyes and following the tumbleweed. The deadplant crashes into a stone wall standing tall and erect -- but there's something strange. Is that the corner of the head? No, it's a voice!

"Adeptagg, over there!" Oscare points, running and seperating from Quicktongue as he runs in the opposite direction. A small ball of fire flows from behind the wall, exploding where Oscare and his amalj'aa companion were standing and explodes. Oscare draws his bow and runs towards the wall. Upon getting in range, four more tempered roll out -- all of different races. All were female though. Two sword fences, one seeker and one midlander. A warrior with a large axe donned by a wildwood elezen, and a dunesfolk honing a staff. A roegadyn woman with her own staff jumps from behind the wall. Oscare cracks his knuckles, eyes fixing on the elezen. 

"Sorry beautiful, but you're going down first." Oscare fires an arrow immediately aimed at the warrior, but the seeker swats the arrow away with ease -- even if it was instant and expertly aimed! The highlander looks absolutely surprised. 'D-Did she just... slice my arrow...?'

"You shoot with your right," Quicktongue randomly speaks, appearing behind him. "Are you mentally deficient? No archer uses his right to aim and shoot! No good one!" Quicktongue releases his own fire spell, breaking up the four women that were grouped. "Use your left! Make sure your accurate, move while shooting! Hone multiple arrows in your hand, shoot multiple at once!" Quicktongue barks, Oscare holding his head.

"-- Wh -- don't tell me what to do! I'm a sniper, damn you!" Oscare grunts back, fixing on the roegadyn thaumaturge who was about to sling another spell. Frustrated, Oscare runs over and uses the hooked end of his bow to pierce through the underside of her chin. Using his brute and current momentum, Oscare lifts the bow and her and throws her over his shoulder, the sea wolf landing on the ground with a loud thud and becoming a helpless corpse. 

Quicktongue shakes his head, watching the four he broke up recovering. The two fencers are the fastest, one aimed for Quicktongue and the other for Oscare. Quicktongue slaps the seeker fencer down, rolling and screaming from the pain. Oscare deflects the rapier from the midlander with his bow. Oscare manages to catch a glimpse -- a black haired woman with light green eyes -- so light they look like white steel. He pushes her away with his bow in frustration, shaking from the sight of her. She looks a lot like Jancis. Even now, he can hear her voice in his ears.

'Fight back,' her voice resounds. Oscare roars, grabbing the woman's head causing her to screech. Oscare's hold on her hair tightens and drags her to the wall, smashing her head flat against the stone and causing it to explode. Blood smears all over the stone and starts flowing out uncontrollably from the now beheaded midlander. Oscare spits on the corpse. "No one copies Jancis' beauty." He comments, growling. Quicktongue is thrown by the seeker that he slapped down by a stab to the gut in retaliation. Oscare looks over as soon as he hears the slam on the ground, Quicktongue pushes a hand against his wound. The seeker licks the blood clean off the sword, fixing her gaze on the highlander who just smashed a midlander's head.

The two run towards against each other, exchanging weapon swings and kicks that don't connect. A gut kick parried by her fist -- a scratch slapped away by a bow. The two continue against each other with no clear winner until the seeker provides the opportunity by nearly falling on her face from a missed attack. Oscare quickly uses a free hand to shoot the seeker's brain out -- a river of blood flowing from the side of her head. Lifting his chin, the wildwood simply looks interested in the fighting, it seems. She motions for the lalafell to go, the small creature sprinting forward. She was an easy target for someone as gigantic as Oscare. He kicks the lalafell away when the dunesfolk tried to twack his knee with a staff. She rolls away almost perfectly ball-like. Quicktongue recovers, and slings an almost instant explosion at her. With no screams, the lalafell explodes from the outside in, chunks of meat flying towards the wall.

After yet another gruesome sight, the wildwood finally takes action. For a heavy looking axe, she was quick. She was almost as fast as Oscare -- pushing the amalj'aa almost triple her size with relative ease away from the blunt end of her bardiche. She swings at Oscare immediately after, giving the man only a small frame of time to jump away. Her swing grazes Oscare, a cut appearing on his midsection. 

Oscare retaliates by a snap kick to her ear, but the elezen swats away the leg easily, responding with a shoulder tackle and knocking the highlander down. Oscare uses his hands to make a handstand and hop backwards onto his feet from kissing the ground. Using his right hand again, Oscare fires a badly aimed show that just clinks helplessly off the blade of the bardiche. Quicktongue scoots himself up and yells at Oscare again. "Use your left, dammit!"

Oscare grunts, turning and running from the other combatant. The elezen follows after him -- the two equal in speed. Oscare breaks into a sprint, outrunning the woman. She attempts to use her bardiche as a tomahawk, stopping in place and spinning around in place to build up arm momentum. Oscare finally reaches the wall when she throws her axe, narrowly dodging the axe with a ducking maneuver. The axe gets stuck in the wall as Oscare continues to run. When he's on the opposite end of the wall, Oscare looks back. The elezen is persistent, trying to get her axe back. Oscare takes a moment to catch his breath and look at his left. Using his left hand to shoot...

It's worth a try.

Oscare spins on the ball of a foot, facing the elezen struggling to get the axe out. Oscare roars, running toward her with the bow in his hand. He grabs an arrow with the left hand and bow in the right. He makes a jump while running, momentarily running on the wall for a brief two seconds. He makes a jump off the wall, gaining major air over the elezen. Enough for an overhead, even. He aims in the air with his left hand...

And shoots. A much more faster shot than his first reflexive shot. The arrow pierces right through the elezen's head, blood splattering over the wall and making the elezen limp and dead. Oscare lands with a damaged grunt, panting. He looks at Quicktongue, still pressing his wound as he walks towards Oscare. Quicktongue points northwards.

A massive group of tempered saw the fight, all dropping their weapons and running away. Oscare looks up at Quicktongue. "... So. How do you know so many arrow tricks?"

"It's common sense," Quicktongue grunts in response, grabbing the bow and pointing at the string. "Silly Eorzeans use their right hand to aim. This is because you do not move while shooting. However, you surely felt how much more natural it was to use your left. The right side provides too much slow down, so it's better to just sit still, yes. The left side of the shaft provides better support for movement, accuracy, firepower, and speed." Quicktongue starts to explain. "You can move, aim, and shoot within moments flat."

Oscare nods. "It did feel a lot... faster. Natural." Oscare looks at the bow that Quicktongue looks back.

... He learned something here.

He's been doing it all wrong.

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This concludes the first part of this entry. For space and convenience, this entry is split into two parts.

RE: Go for Gold [[NSFW, OOC welcome! Closed.]] - Oscare - 01-27-2015

This is the second part of the entry recorded in the same day.
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Oscare and Quicktongue had already made their way back to the Brotherhood of Ash meeting stones. There was not much time left in the day -- night had already struck with a moon overhead. Everyone was sleeping aside from the two puckered out fighters and Stonefist, who was awaiting with arms crossed. 

"I saw." Stonefist grins smugly. "Good work. Rest." Quicktongue takes it as a command and immediately exits, leaving Stonefist and Oscare staring at each other. "Ally," Stonefist starts. "I thank you. Will you sleep tonight?" This prompts a quirk of the eyebrows from Oscare.

"Hm?"

"You were tireless yesterday." 

"Oh -- sorry. I thought I was sleeping soundly."

"As one of the brave warriors representing the Brotherhood, it is my responsibility that you come out of here unscathed and back to your people safely." Stonefist chuckles. An amalj'aa chuckling was one of the last things Oscare expected to hear in this lifetime. "Tomorrow, you'll have your first encounter with Stoneglare, do not worry." 

"Stonefist," Oscare responds. "Your name. Stonefist? I expect that is within reason, yes?" 

"It is!" Stonefist feints a punch, making Oscare sweat profusely and nervously. "No one has lived to tell the tale in a fight with me. Would you like a demonstration, ally?"

Oscare nods, probably regrettably. Stonefist backs up and winds up a punch by rolling his shoulders and stretching his right arm. Oscare closes his eyes -- he's been punched by Berrod before. This possibly can't be worse.

Wrong!
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This ends the record for this day.

RE: Go for Gold [[NSFW, OOC welcome! Closed.]] - Oscare - 01-27-2015

This is recorded as the twenty fifth sun of the First Astral Moon.
[[NSFW post. Implied rape, lots of blood too!]]
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Oscare woke up to a resounding headache in the middle of the meeting stone, Stonefist sitting right besides him awake. A hand instinctively goes up to scratch Oscare's forehead -- feeling a bruise huger than anything he's ever experienced. His entire face was in pain. Stonefist's punch must've knocked him right out clean. Stonefist looks down to the waking highlander. "Morning, ally." Stonefist grins smugly again, the scaly mass of muscle standing up and offering the highlander a hand.

Oscare grabs the hand and helps himself up, holding his head. "Ugh -- my head -- ow..." Oscare shakes it, regretting that choice he made last night. "You outclass Berrod's punches. Nice work." Oscare compliments, getting his gear and strapping it across his shoulders. Stonefists grabs Oscare and spins the highlander towards him relatively easily, strong enough to make Oscare mildly dizzy. Stonefist grabs the quiver on Oscare's back and shove it to his belt.

"Put it there, ally." He comments. "Archers should not have their quivers at their back. Your waist will make it better," Stonefist instructs right after, passing a scaly hand up the Garlean's waist and side of his abs up to his chest. 

Oscare gulps audibly at the suddenly touchy amalj'aa. "I -- uh. You must have good archers." Oscare readjusts the quiver to better fit his waist. Stonefist shoves Oscare to get him going, making the man grunt in response.

"Prepare yourself. We head out now. The earlier the ambush, the fast you may leave." Stonefist turns, facing south to the area where Oscare and Quicktongue fought the Burnt of Ifrit. He marches away, Oscare following him shortly after.

The trip was quiet from start to finish. They pass along the bridge and the dried out plain, passing the still bloodied wall that Oscare smashed a midlander's head against. Beyond the plains was a canyon, standing possibly hundreds among hundreds of malms high. The wind stops blowing between the two raised platforms, nothing but pure silence. Well, for a while.

A cackle is head among the silence. "Stonefist Auggh Roh?" It was Blitzagg. 

It wasn't that hard, though. Just come into a cramped canyon trench and wait? This was one of easier tasks. Blitzagg reveals himself, towering over Auggh. Who, by the way, towers over your average roegadyn male, who towers over Oscare. Now who feels short? 

"Enough." Auggh pushes a clenched fist forward to Blitzagg. "I knew you would be here. You run short of power, yes? The Brotherhood killed most of them yesterday." This promotes a rather hearty laugh from Blitzagg.

"Ah, that was you that were slaughtering my brothers?!" Oscare cringes from how loud he is -- echoing between the two walls of land. "Grief! I was wondering why I was losing them and dying like Eorzeans under my feet!" Blitzagg stares down Oscare, who just sighs. "Speaking of Eorzeans, you have a mighty fine looking one. I'll take him, at least I can use one of that stature. Ah, yes... big ones. I like them big."

Now it was time to feel personally dsgusted. "Yeah, uh, no." Oscare growls back, Stonefist placing a hand in front of him, a motion for the man to stop. 

"You will not touch this ally. You've killed enough of them in our struggles." Stonefist and Stoneglare gaze at each other in silence, Stoneglare's name becomes apparent. Red eyes that look like they bled for whole eras and dried up into a gross mix of red and brown. It's like staring down a bleeding pair of ahriman -- unnerving and horrid. "Now, will you make your first strike? Or shall we talk forever?"

Stoneglare takes that as an invitation to break the silence and deliver a punch to Stonefist. Being caught off guard, Stonefist is knocked down with a large slam, punishing the stone below him. The shock of his fall was enough to make Oscare lose his footing, struggling to recover. Oscare quickly draws out his pistol, firing at Blitzagg several times. They all connect -- but Blitzagg's pure hulk of muscle makes them only just tickle. "Oh? Are these new toys? They make me laugh." Oscare looks in terror. This was a new experience, at least!

Blitzagg retaliates, grabbing Oscare and hefting the feather-weighted man in comparison over his shoulder. Roaring, Blitzagg throws Oscare at least twelve fulms above the ground in an arc throw. Oscare lands with a crunch, possibly breaking a cheek bone from the height-ground difference impact. Weakly, the man and Stonefist recover onto his feet. Stonefist takes the advantage to distract Blitzagg with a shoulder tackle, a thundering thud echoing in the trench. Oscare runs away only a couple of ilms to duck and pull out a proximity bomb, planting it in the ground and covering up the metal device with sand. Oscare hops over his trap to rejoin the fight.

The highlander was greeted with the two wrestling at each other, throwing each other at the walls and to the ground. They're both full of vigor and hatred, turning down to even tail whipping and biting. Blitzagg finally gets a grip on Auggh, hoisting the brotherhood amalj'aa over his shoulder. Oscare runs over while Blizagg's back is faced to him and firing at point blank. The surprised attack causes the adversary to stumble and drop Auggh, grunting heavily. Blitzagg faces to Oscare, looking down. Oscare continues with his momentum to climb up the amalj'aa arms and shoulder and using his shoulders as a platform.

Blitzagg fails to react due to confusion and speed of Oscare's reactions. Oscare faces his handgun straight down, firing at point blank down the worshipper's back. A little inaccuracy makes the shot hit the shoulder, but this time the gun did it's job. Blitzagg screams in pain and falls to the ground, Oscare jumps off before he falls and lands on the ground next to him.

The amalj'aa recovers quicker that Oscare would've like to, delivering an elbow strike to Oscare from behind. The highlander falls effortlessly down to the ground, the elbow striking right behind his head. Auggh is struggling to recover, something seems to have jabbed sharply into one of his thighs and it's making his recovery hard. Blitzagg walks over to the grounded Oscare and picks him up by the arms with a single hand, making Oscare wail his feet in a frenzy. The beastman adversary licks Oscare's bare neck that was drenched in sweat, savoring the flavor.

"Mmm. Good." Pervert. 

Auggh finally comes up to his feet, tackling and pinning Blitzagg, forcing him to let go of Oscare. The highlander lands on his knee, stunned from the hard impact. Blitzagg and Auggh start punching at each other on the ground, blood spilling from both of them. Blitzagg eventually gains the upper hand, grabbing Auggh and lifting him up and off the ground. The larger amalj'aa throws the victim against the stone head first, blood splattering from his head. Auggh roars in return, too tired to retaliate however. His whole face and fists were bleeding... this was ending badly.

Blitzagg grabs Auggh by the throat and faces Oscare. "Highlander," He speaks. "I suggest you obey my commands lest you see Stonefist here die." He cackles, Oscare too injured and exhausted to take much action. While Oscare finds his handgun, Blitzagg bites Auggh's neck before speaking again. "You've always tasted so well, Auggh Roh. It's a shame that we couldn't be together, hm?"

Dammit, dammit. "There's a reason we aren't besides being of opposing views, Stoneglare." Stonefist emphasizes the name. "It's because you wanted to kill. I wanted others to live. You were vile -- wretched beast. Don't even make me begin to count the many times I've tried to talk to you." Dammit, dammit! "The path you chose was not one I was going to agree with. The Brotherhood is right, you are wrong."

"Wrong?! You pathetic pile of scales!" Blitzagg forces his body upon Auggh, an uncomfortable grunt releasing from the other amalj'aa. "Damn you and everything you stand for! Ifrit could've blessed you, but you turned to a blind eye and joined the other weaklings! You turn to Eorzeans," Blitzagg points at the harmed Oscare. "You could have it all. Better yet, you could've had me! And you even turned THAT down! I don't know how else to convince you, besides this..." Blitzagg punches Auggh clean in the jaw, the force and lack of resistance cracking and shedding some scales on Auggh's left side of the face. Oscare finally digs up his gun from the sand and shoots at Blitzagg -- missing entirely. 

Blitzagg cackles at the missed bullet that clinks helplessly off the wall. "Hah. I know what I'll do." Blitzagg whispers, smashing Auggh's face in with an elbow strike and more blood pours out. Auggh falls down, hardly moving at all, probably not breathing much either. Blitzagg then marches over to Oscare, plucking the man off the ground pushing him against the other wall. "Now, Auggh Roh. Watch as I take your Eorzean as mine. And not in temperament either."

Blitzagg beats Oscare in the face several times until the world goes black.

Show Content

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This ends the entry for this day.
[[I'M A CRAP WRITER. Anyway, not much of this left!]]

RE: Go for Gold [[NSFW, OOC welcome! Closed.]] - Oscare - 01-28-2015

The entries from the end of twenty fifth sun until the twenty-seventh sun seem to been wiped from the directory from a malicious memory lapse. Skipping to next available memory...
...
The entry is recorded late night on the twenty-eighth sun of the First Astral Moon.
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'Well, it's the last day.

Speedtongue (who was miserably spelled in an earlier entry) and Quicksilver are dead. I finally managed to repair the affairs between the lost leader Stonefist Auggh Chah and the Brotherhood. In a few days notice, the Astral Agents will be welcomed here. Berrod sent me to establish allies, and I did so. I get to go home tomorrow. I'm already walking back.


'... It's rough. I'm still hurting like hells from what the bastard Blitzagg did to me. I can still feel my soul cry, too. I don't want to remember that. Auggh died in front of my eyes... and... and...


'I'm probably going to be in a bad state for a long time.'
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The rest of the entry seems to have been wiped from the directory.