Portal Breach: The Collision of Worlds :: v.4.0




    Posts : 383
    Join date : 2017-04-08
    Age : 33
    Location : Anywhere the wind blows, babe.
    Level : 15

    Character Sheet
    Defense Bar:
    20/20  (20/20)
    Health Bar:
    200/200  (200/200)
    Stamina Bar:
    30/30  (30/30)


    Post by Scaramouche on Fri Apr 21, 2017 1:04 pm

    Time/Date: ¿Ö橃¤º×ü‡?

    Most wouldn't think an 8' robot wearing 5" heels could leap and dance amongst the trees as if it were a woodland nymph, its feet swift and its figure buoyant, but they'd be wrong. Scaramouch was a dancer, a singer, a swashbuckler; but, most of all, he was a lover. And lovers do not quit so easily. The same was true for acrobats.


    This must be perfect.

    Every agile tumble through the knotted trees, every graceful cast from branch to branch propelled the robot closer and closer toward his goal. He made nary a sound and disturbed not a slumbering creature in his hurried wake. It was doubtful they'd even realize he'd been there. This was his element. This was his function. Be it primeval wilds or concrete jungle, he was seemingly without equal. And as the robot neared a familiar clearing, the seam between the forest's edge and the sprawling grasslands, three unsuspecting souls will be reminded. Scaramouch lessened his muted steps and came to a crawl in the nebulous dark, stopping just shy of a warm, inviting glow thirty feet before him. Motorized optics whirred.

    Two unique heat signatures downstairs - one very large, one (annoyingly) typical - and a single reading upstairs. None seemed to stir, though he knew better than to case the building so flippantly. His objective lied on the second floor and Collins had those rather big ears, after all. It wasn't a good idea riling Boon into a startled frenzy, either. Speed would be of the essence...

    He dimmed his optics and struck.


    Jumping out of a tree was easy. It was landing on the grass that worried him. He rolled on a shoulder and took off running.

    ...crunch, crunch, crunch!

    Heels made for an unfortunate choice in footwear, but there was no time worrying about that now. The robot morphed into one big, purple blur as he raced across the tavern's lawn, Scaramouch deceptively spry when it suited him. Always did he cling to shadow, one hand sturdily gripping the hilt of his dagger, but there was no need. Old habits from his last gig. He nevertheless kept a solid hold of it and threw himself at the tavern's leftmost wall. Metal brushed against stone and wood as his hands made contact. Pap! Now came his favorite part.

    It was child's play, scaling this Old World-esque building. Wooden beams provided excellent grips and the weather-worn stone had enough texture for footing, making this all the more easy. He was almost bored of the task already, the robot tempted to create a game out of his trespassing as he vaulted from one position to the next. There was still the matter of Collins, however, and Scaramouch wisely thought against it.

    Maybe next time.

    Balcony, balcony. Where was the - ? Aha! Balcony. He shimmied to his left with a delicate hop, tiptoes poised, and jumped straight up with fingers reac -


    ...Really!? Who didn't replace a creaky floorboard!? Sigh, no time like the present, he supposed.

    With a one and a two and a three, the robot swung himself like a pendulum and utilized the momentum for a backwards flip, gingerly landing upon the balcony's wooden railing with his hands and not his feet. It also really hurt doing it this way, but someone obviously hadn't heard of a good carpenter. Wrists were fragile things, you know? He grimaced and carefully lowered himself onto the balcony proper, crouching. Okay, so far so good... but Scaramouch could pat himself on the back later. All he needed to do now, was - creeeeeeeeeaaaaak...!

    Mm... of course. Of course there'd be another - you know what, never mind. If Collins was worth his weight in upkeep and bartending, the robot's cover was blown. Gotta cut this short. He reached into his coat and withdrew what he had come all this way to deliver. Man, he didn't even have the time to make certain everything looked all nice and pretty! All that trouble, all that presentation, and for what!? Freakin' - no time to gripe!


    A panicked Scaramouch dropped something off and left, once again taking into the night as quickly as he arrived.




    Posts : 377
    Join date : 2014-05-18
    Level : 6

    Character Sheet
    Defense Bar:
    15/15  (15/15)
    Health Bar:
    120/120  (120/120)
    Stamina Bar:
    16/16  (16/16)

    Re: Star-Crossed

    Post by Lunette on Sat Apr 22, 2017 4:34 am

    The amount of trespassers onto the property of the tavern during closed hours were very... non-existent. There were the occasional vagrants that would pass by, a traveler or two, and of course the more common animal appearances. All had been studied and figured out in a matter of seconds by the ears of the gargoyle downstairs--but in a state of deep sleep, the creaks and cracks of the classic looking tavern were expected to be just that--the wood popping as heat escaped it, or the crickle crackle of the freezer creating ice. Point was, there were a lot of ambient noises that Collins was familiar with, and he didn't even stir at the whirling dervish that was Scaramouch.

    But he and the daemon continued to sleep, and Lunette had  been locked into a deep sleep and dream. It wasn't a good dream, her tail would twitch, nose crinkle and ears swivel every so often as she'd turn over and curl up again. It wasn't quite a nightmare; if it was, she'd be far more talkative and jittery. Whatever the case, it was interrupted by a THUD, something from atop the tavern had made a loud noise. Jolting awake, tail fluffed up and pupils narrowed, her nails had extended, expecting an intruder, but instead, her eyes scanned the room and saw nothing. The thud sound returned once more, a little lighter than before, and Lunette looked up to the ceiling. "... Oh... right... raccoons."

    The spring had introduced a new family of raccoons that made their little house in the small space in the roof--something Boon and Collins were supposed to take care of and place them in a more suitable home, but... apparently, they hadn't. Ears flattened, Lunette raised her nose a bit before sliding out of the bed, rubbing her forehead and heading to the larger window, opening the curtains and letting in the sunshine. About to turn away, something caught her sapphire eyes, causing them to look once more.


    Her shoes.

    Those large eyes must've stared at those shoes for a good 10 minutes before they finally broke away, scanning the treeline and a bit of the road (of what she could see) before cautiously unlocking the french doors. Yes, those were definitely her shoes that had broken the other day--same color, same style, the heel had been reattached and even the off-center of the left buckle had been centered. Delicately and professionally fixed, it looked. She approached a little closer, placing a gunmetal finger along the ankle clasp and thoughtfully giving the shoes another once-over before noticing a pink blossom between them. It looked kind of like--


    Slapping them off of the balcony; taking them inside and accepting them; leaving them there for the elements. All were things that came to her mind, but Lunette merely frowned, finding the first and latter thought to be harsh. It wasn't his fault. It was her fault. He was just being... kind. Her hands gently cupped the shoes together, keeping the blossom and cherries in place as she took them inside. Fingers slid along the door handle to her closet, and once she entered, she turned the lights on, looking to her right where an antique-looking shoe-rack stood, a spot on the second row open. At first, she knelt down, putting the shoes back where they belonged and removing the cherries delicately, cupping them in her hands. Kneeling became sitting, and sitting became curling up into a ball, pressing against the wall, closet door barely open.

    Her eyes rarely left the fruit in her hand, barely brushing her thumb against the tender petals of the pink blossom. Her face was one of... nothing. Perhaps regret, but mostly apathy. Nose wiggled every so often, taking in the faint scent of the fresh fruit... the smell reminding her of that tree.

    You'll just end up hurting him, too.

    A deep sigh escaped her, ears beginning to flatten.

    You're so selfish and vain; putting so much time in your physical beauty, your insides became hideous and foul. You're nothing but a ██████.

    "Stop..." her hand gently cupped the plant, her other grasping at her head again. "Stop making me feel this way... I'm sorry..." Lunette's voice cracked, turning into a pathetic squeak.

    You should ███ this.

    Maybe... it'd be the best thing to do. Stop this before something happened!

    What a beautiful thought:
    A beautiful night, filled with music. Soft, furred fingers were placed so lightly and thoughtfully against metallic ones, much large than her own. Though she tried, her little legs couldn't reach atop his shoes, but he didn't mind, "Ha ha~ Okay, maybe just your hands, Lulu. You shortcake~" Her nose crinkled, but more so out of embarrassment than irritation. Even those cat puns, while stupid, weren't irritating... they stopped, at least. They stopped bothering her. "Okay, teacher, now what?" she said, eyes rolling up and longingly staring at the his metal face. "Now we play."


    A single stream of tears found its way down her cheek, memories toying with her and mind laughing at how stupid and pointless it all was.

    He's better off without you ████ and ████ him, toying with his emotions.

    "I'm... not..." her hand still held the fruit, squeezing just a bit tighter. "I don't... want to do that..."

    Then stay away. Stay here and do some ██████ work for a change instead of ██████ off and leaving it to ████ and ██████ to clean up after you.

    Knees up to her chest and tail wrapped around her like a fluffy cocoon, Lunette didn't move or make a sound. Her hand tenderly dropped the cherries and blossom next to her, rolling over and facing away as she hid herself, mind tempting the feline into surrendering.

      Current date/time is Tue Mar 26, 2019 10:52 am