ic [IC] Kick Off!: Dark Horse

[KnightDisciple]

Nevermore's eyes widened behind his mask. His free hand blurred down and tried to yank her mask away.

 

"Ouroboros! Her mouth!"

 

He scrambled to try and open her mouth, get the mask away, keep her from choking or drowning or poisoning herself.

 

"This wasn't necessary! We won't hurt you any more you just need to stop fighting back!"

 

There's a strangely desperate edge to his voice. His body is slightly tense, but not in the right ways...

[angrydurf]

"Dui!" spat Ouroboros proving once more that he had learned all his best swears form his mother.  He lunged forward to help Nevermore try and pry open her mouth or otherwise halt whatever the strange thieves latest maneuver was.  "Don't you have an anti-toxin in that suit of yours?"  he asked as he pulled away the girls mask, "All I got isn't exactly the kinda thing you do to woman you have to hold down."  he noted with a frown and perhaps more for her ears than Nevermores added, "Though with access to a body compelling a spirit would probably be easier than interrogation anyway."  the magus noted as he waited expectantly for captain gizmos to do something about the unexpected turn of events.

[KnightDisciple]

Nevermore did not facepalm, both because he had more discipline than that and because he wasn't one to use such a gesture in day to day life. But Ouroboros could tell that was roughly his emotional reaction, as Nevermore stopped for just a moment, before letting go of Weaver and reaching down to his belt. He extracted a strange-looking device that he quickly placed a vial of liquid into the base of. 

 

Before actually putting it to her neck, he pressed a button on his belt and one on his cowl, and a soft light emitted from a few discrete positions on his suit, before numbers flashed on the screen of the handheld device, and it was pressed against Weaver's neck with a soft 'hiss' sound.

 

"There. Broad spectrum anti-toxin, adjusted based on initial scans of shifting body chemistry. Worst case she's sick for a week and then everything's fine."

 

He tucks the hypospray away and just...sits down on the floor, staring at her. 

[olopi]

GM

 

 

 

Removing the mask took some effort. It wasn’t merely a slip-on mask. Instead, it was a two-piece mask, with a further third part covering the back of the head. Both the lower piece, and the piece at the back of the head were attached to the rest of her outfit, with small strips of metal holding it in place.  The main part itself neatly slipped into the other two, so removing it didn’t take much time once the rest had been.

 

Below, a face that could certainly show itself. The Weaver’s face was rather sleek, with a minor scar on her jawbone. Her hair, black at its root and changing over into brown on the way down reached to slightly above her neck, all currently tucked away behind her head. Her skin was somewhat tan, and her facial features suggested an Asian origin, probably central Asia. She looked pretty calm, but there certainly was some kind of fluid in her mouth. It was colourless, and seemed somewhat more dense than water.

 

She didn’t move any part of her body, not even her eyes. Even her breathing was barely noticeable, she was simply lying on the floor. The entire scene looked quite calm even, especially when compared to the frantic minute or so before. Her companion didn’t look as tranquil, having simply collapsed on the floor under the force of various spells.

Edited November 25, 2016 by olopi

[KnightDisciple]

Nevermore arranged Weaver so she wouldn't risk choking. Once he was satisfied of her safety, he moved back a bit and ended up sitting down on the floor. Perhaps in an odd reflex, the lenses on his mask retracted, and his real eyes showed through his mask. The look in them was...distant. As if he was remembering something. 

 

"I understand fighting against capture. I understand planning escape. But...to try and take your own life. I....why?"

 

He seemed genuinely confused. 

[angrydurf]

Regarding the defeated but no longer contained thief warily as Nevermore applied the hypospray and leaned in toward her as the older student settled back eying whatever concoction she'd mouthed with care.  "Unless it's meant for us?"  he suggested somewhat dismissively, "Has someone been watching too many late night Dune marathons?"  he asked patronizingly and with a wave and invocation erected barriers of shimmering force sealing them into the room lest she try again to escape, "You've already risked the wrath of the Lord of the Oasis this night."  he suggested ominously as date night was serious business, "Do not force us to waste further time on your ill conceived plans."  

 

He looked questioningly to Nevermore then back to the girl, "So talk."  he demanded with a haughty tone.

[olopi]

GM

 

The Weaver brought up her arms, holding her hands behind her head, still in the ground. She didn’t really move otherwise, her head still just lying there, her breathing still slow and light. When Nevermore asked, she remained quiet. When Ouroboros told her to, she still didn’t speak.

 

The fluid in her mouth was slowly disappearing, some probably just being absorbed by flesh, some probably through natural reflexes. It didn’t seem to matter to her much, and she closed her mouth after only a few seconds. Nothing else happened, she simply didn’t want to speak. And her expression was as neutral as it got, she had probably relaxed somewhat in the few moments since the fight, helping her calm down.

 

 

Edited December 6, 2016 by olopi

[KnightDisciple]

"Please."

 

Nevermore's voice was gruff, but...still gentle. 

 

"Just...please. Say something. Explain what it was you just tried to take. Why you thought you...you had to try and...and do that. Surely it's not that bad. You should know we're not the sort to drive people to that. Who wants this stuff? Why?"

[angrydurf]

Ouroboros regarded the would be thief and his own compatriot alike with a dubious shake of his head.  "She hardly did it to escape our clutches, whoever sent her and and the thrift store sorcerer here probably put her up to it."  he surmised blandly, "With your shield or on it and all that." 

 

He paced over to the unconscious one and began rifling through the the pockets and pouches pulling out this and that then discarding it if not interesting as he scanned for familiar magic in in the scrolls or gear the mystically inclined one carried.  "Which is really just saying your skills are worth less to us than this fancy board with a handle."  he pointed out absently continuing his search having moved on from mystery poison and keeping a wary eye for signs of stirring from the downed interloper.

[olopi]

GM

 

 

 

The pouches of the unconscious thief seemed to be nearly bottomless. Scrolls upon scrolls were in them, sometimes just tightly packed together, sometimes clearly enchanted in a way to allow for more of them to fit. It was all scrolls. Most of them seemed to be simply conjuring magic, allowing the wielder to access a versatile set of spells without much magical knowledge themselves.

 

A few that stood out were ones that summoned actual gear rather than spells, like the crossbow one that had been used in the fight, or a sword which worked on the same principle. As for other, non-scroll gear, there was a lack of it. A grappling hook, a few potions (identifying them would’ve taken more time), and a plain knife were everything that could be found.

In the meantime, the Weaver continued to be quiet. It actually seemed like she was relaxing, as she spoke softly. Her mouth was the only thing she moved, she didn’t seem to be planning anything. Or perhaps, she was planning something and was good at hiding it.

 

“You had your chance. You could’ve known. Live with your decisions. We all have made mistakes.”

Edited December 18, 2016 by olopi

[KnightDisciple]

Nevermore stiffened for a moment, before his posture seemed to almost harden, and the lenses of his mask snapped down. 

 

"Just because I find you noticeably attractive in both physicality and movement doesn't mean you can patronize me. If you refuse to talk, then that silence is worth the price I paid. I'm loyal out of honor. Out of...care. Not fear. I've been loyal out of fear."

 

Then he stood, his cape slowly draping itself over his body as he stepped back into a nearby and highly-convenient shadow, to watch over both prisoners.

 

"I'll never go back to it again. So don't try to tell me I made a mistake."