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Post by Francis Drake on Feb 20, 2016 0:50:10 GMT
The clack of heeled boots meeting the hard floor of a rather empty hallway echoed throughout the long path, there was a certain gloom to such a wide and long corridor which had pretty much nothing in it. Beyond the sound of the clacking boot heels was the slosh of liquid as a half open bottle was carried by the side of the one who had been sent to investigate this hallway after the explosion.
Sir Francis Drake, Rider class servant reported for duty...or rather she was assigned to the task. A rather odd and perhaps boring task to do, yet she responded the order with a dry business like attitude as usual when ordered around. It wasn't odd to for Drake to be sent on missions that were...not up to par to her taste of adventure, yet she always complied as long as the pay was good. Thankfully this time she had been able to be convinced to do this task in exchange for a bottle of alcohol. Not the usual rum that she so enjoyed, this time it was her time to try something new. A clear liquid which carried a nice sting and ample heat as it trickled down her throat and made it's way down her chest and into her stomach.
Vodka. It was the first time that Drake had ever tasted the strong spirit, which perhaps was sort of ironic for what the fact that the redheaded servant who was most famous for...well her exploits as a hero, but beyond that as one of the world's heaviest drinkers! The idea that the creator of the Mojito had not had something so simple as Vodka was odd...of course it was a matter of the era and location which Drake spent her time in, had she ever visited Russia in her life she would at least have found herself pleased with their assortment of alcohol could she drink this every day.
The bottle liquid sloshed around in the bottle as the buxom pirate brought it to her lips, parting them and letting the warm liquid flow down through her. "Huueh!~ Nothing better!" Drake let out in joy a faint smile on her scared face as her cheeks had turned slightly rosy. She wore fairly modest clothes, unlike most servant battle gear wasn't something that exactly bothered Drake and while she preferred to do battle in her captains coat and fancy hat. At this point in time she wore a maroon colored long-sleeved T-shirt it covered most her her upper-body, even contained her large chest, a chocker upon her throat of the same color as her shirt was present and she also wore a pair of black jeans, her long hair was left as free as ever to trail behind her as she walked through the hallways.
She soon started to slow down a bit, decreasing her regular walking pace by roughly 25% as she noticed she was starting to reach the position of the downed/broken camera.
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Post by Elusive Red Stranger on Feb 20, 2016 3:03:56 GMT
Further down in the hallway one would quickly notice the bodies stacked together in a row. Although they had been handled rather roughly by the masked man, none were dead and only severely knocked out. Why had they been handled that way? Well they had intruded upon a deed which no one was allowed to see. Witnesses to a criminal clad flamboyant scarlet silk, tinkering with a door panel. A door panel? Indeed! A locked blast door was not A particularly uncommon thing in the hallways of Chaldea, and often possessed a small digital interface to scan the user's metric and verify their credentials. What was uncommon, however was the odd device that had been abruptly jammed into it panel. Odd! The device beeped inconsistently  The hassles of technology had made lock-picking a more sophisticated task. All the same, the masked individual was standing guard when the pirate made her way to the segment of the complex. There wasn't any doubt about her status as a servant, and he doubted that she'd mistake his. All the same, the chip had not yet cracked the codes necessary. Retrying the deed somewhere else was possible, but it would be increasingly more complicated if the organization were to discover his plans. It seemed there was little choice in matter.
Looking the rough-faced woman in the eyes, his voice was bluntly cordial- "Ah. I've been found, it seems". Despite the mask covering his face, the sound of his words was crystal clear. It was an eloquent and syrupy voice, the gentlemanly type of tones that feel just like swallowing down a cup of mead.
"Would it, perhaps, be possible for you to simply ignore this awkward situation?"- It was a pointless question. Even if she was to back away that very instant, he could not afford the risk of her announcing what she had seen here. Not before the cracking device completed it's task. Even if such a risk could be taken, this woman was clearly not the style to back-away from confrontation. He knew that people that had an ease in looking the other way, very rarely held scars in their face.
It was a painful fact, but the stranger knew already how the dance had to go down. His hand was already drawing closer to the hilt of his strapped rapier, in unfortunate anticipation."...After all, I doubt I could handle you using the same gentle methods I applied to your allies"
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Post by Francis Drake on Feb 20, 2016 3:38:36 GMT
As she walked up to where the camera had broken down what met the pirate's gaze was a stack of bodies, which seemed to have not been put to sleep in a gentle way. It seemed as if this man who stood head of them was responsible...a part of the captains mind was of course pondering upon the most trivial of things at the moment, if they were knocked out or if they would have suffered any serious concision from being knocked out in such a rough manner. Last time she could remember being knocked out her ship had taken a canon to her cabin, and it had left her face scared. Did she suffer from sever concussion then ? If she couldn't remember it clearly then yeah...that was probably the case for the Pirate.
Of course she let him go first, any evil scoundrel who knew his own self-worth always wanted to prattle on at first. In fact it was one of the charms of being a dastardly bastard. Drake sure enjoyed it from time to time. Though she couldn't say that his voice was all too pleasing, it was like having your ears swallow a spoon-full of sugar. His requests on the other hand were simply hilarious, there was nothing to insult though. Hell...he probably could have persuaded Drake to walk away if she had not been sent here and instead had just stumbled in on this situation....at least with some compensation. Though as it was a mission she had been given and payment was already granted, it seemed rather cowardly to walk away.
" Haah ?" The crimson haired pirate spoke as her free hand scratched at the back of her head, her voice was rough and she sounded a bit annoyed at this situation, she kinda had hoped that either this would be a more grandiose event or nothing at all so she could simply enjoy her vodka. She would bring the bottle up to her lips and pull her head back, taking the half that was left and downing it all in a swift go, heavy gulping noises echoed from Drake's throat as she finally finished off the vodka and would put the bottle down next to her right foot. Moving to stand straight again as she looked on at the red clad fellow. " A gentle dance is a boring one anyways, aye ?" She responded with a grin upon her face, the stench of alcohol slipping out between her lips as she spoke.
Her hand move up to her head of crimson hair and with a shine of golden dust materialized a fancy hat upon her head, a large pirate hat studded with gems. It appeared upon her head of course and the hand she had held aloft also now contained a old timey flintlock pistol. There was a short silence before Drake would aim the pistol at the red stranger, Drake wasn't exactly one to fight fairly...but she seemed to be doing so for now, considering she hadn't try to strike the first blow...or well shoot the first shot yet. Though who knows, it could all be a ruse.
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Post by Elusive Red Stranger on Feb 21, 2016 0:10:48 GMT
It was nice. I guess they'd call that instant the calm before the storm, a single second of anticipation- and it felt like that second had been stretched as far as it could.
The floor of the hallway clang loudly as the explosive first step of the dash dented the steel inward. It was a tremendous burst, more than worthy of it's status as a servant's first attack, and it would close the distance between them in a flash. The red blur's hand gripped his sword tightly, pointed straight into his targets heart. Compared to the claymores and sword of knights, rapiers were more efficient killers. Subtle and quick, straight to the point, focused...
The air rang with the mighty thrust, with all the strength and momentum placed singularly on the tip of the blade. The truth was death was quite unsightly of an event, at least for the masked man. Whenever he had to do it, he'd do so without wounding anyone more than absolutely necessary, a task that would be fulfilled easily when piercing someone's heart.
Having to protect the door as well as fight, he hoped that he handicap wasn't too much for his own skills.
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Post by Francis Drake on Feb 24, 2016 10:31:20 GMT
The calm before the storm was a clever ruse that a storm usually played...to trick people into thinking that it was nothing going to end in devastation. For as long as man has lived storms have been one of the greatest disasters, they don't add-hear to the normal rules. A volcano nearby ? Just move. Earthquakes, will almost only happen if you live near tectonic plates which can collide...storms though ? They happen everywhere! They are unpredictable and they run as wild as they please.
That was the captain dressed in red, who were to square off against a fellow red-clad servant. Of course his dress was a bit more elaborate at the moment. There was a certain stillness, meant to fool one into thinking that the coming few seconds would not be devastating to this very hallway. Of course...whilst Drake would probably take care to not blow up the knocked out people lying over there...at least this red stranger had shown that he himself was concerned with the lives of those people as well. If not it would have been a lot more simple to simply kill them off.
Soon the red servant bounded forward, the clang of boots against the hallway as he closed the distance with an impeccable speed. Impressive but by no means impossible for servants. the sword rang through the air, slicing it apart as it traveled towards the pirate.
Drake formed a smirk on her face as her right foot would slide to the side through his dash, and with a swift kick upwards would punt the bottle into the air as she attempt to shoot it up towards his sword gripping hand. Her body twisting around with the kick placing her sideways and hopefully having the blade narrowly avoid skewering the pirate captain's chest. Her right hand moving to point her flintlock pistol with the barrel tracing a line right towards the red strangers head, a quick flick of her index finger to send a incredibly high condensed amount of prana flying towards that masked face of his!
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Post by Elusive Red Stranger on Mar 7, 2016 20:28:02 GMT
The mask concealed his grin when he noticed the tactic adopted by his foe. His type of sword took advantage of momentum gained through charges, and was almost surely lethal if he were to build him a movement like that. She had responded brilliantly to this threat.
A bottle was flung towards him at great speed. The object crashed, shattered and broke against his arm, with just enough power to slightly push him away from his intended trajectory. Unharmed and forced astray, the swordsman ended up slicing only an after-image of the witty sailor. Damnation! The strategy had been quickly devised, and the swordsman admittedly hadn't predicted her use of the bottle as a tool to help her escape. Although a creative move, it wasn't as suited for a duel scene as it was for a bar brawl; this woman surely made no distinction between them.
He has lost his advantage and was now placed on the defensive, as the next strike would doubt be hers. The sound of a trigger being pressed could easily accompany a quick death, unless he reacted in time to it. He lowered himself as fast as possible, and was now ducking, moving his vitals as far away from her line of fire as the motion allowed. Turning to face her, he extended his legs with a burst, soaring higher than before and preparing a strong knee strike to her ribs. Thrusting his rapier didn't work that well with an airborne stance, but if he could make some distance between him and the pirate he'd resume his goal of skewering her.
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Post by Francis Drake on Mar 13, 2016 1:42:53 GMT
It was safe to say that Drake was far from a refined fighter, her combat experience had been most from bar brawls and in the age old style of pirate like swashbuckling! You use whatever you can in whatever way you can cause that's the only way to fight. Honor was something you left behind before you went into battle cause honor is what gets you killed. Sand in the face, spit in the eye, a kick in the groin, a stomp on the toes, it was all fair game when you fought the pirate! Cause you could be damn sure she'd use whatever seemed good at the moment.
Though it seemed as if her moves served only to help her against the fast thrust of the rapier wielding red clad man. Beyond that it did not aid her in getting in a good shot at him as much as she would have liked. Her gunfire missing it's mark the condensed prana pulled flew through the air and crashed into the wall of the hallway, drilling it's way right into it and leaving a rather deep hole...perhaps it even went straight through the wall. His knee shot up and a strong strike struck the red maroon clad woman's side, causing her to stagger back a few steps. Distance was created and that suited her just fine....a small grin appearing on her lips as she'd straighten up again, golden dust gathering as her other gun formed into her free hand.
" Looks like this dance might not be so dull after all. Aye! Let's bring the bang!" Francis Drake spoke out with an almost glee-filled tone. Her boot would clack against the hard floor as if she was actually starting a dance with a beat and all. Hands moving up with the grace of a drunken sailor...which is to say none. Barrels pointing straight at the red-man. " Let's start with the beat!" Drake called out as she'd begin to furry a salvo of bullets towards the Elusive one, her guns while looking like Flintlocks were the weapons of a servants and had no such constraints as a normal gun, able to fire power bullets which would travel with terrifying speed in the air! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!...Six rounds fired in less than an instant from both pistols!
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Post by Elusive Red Stranger on Mar 20, 2016 5:47:41 GMT
The blast aimed for his head hit the wall behind him instead, and a miniature crater formed instantly -though at least it wasn't on his skull.
He heard six shots fired by the rowdy lady so there were now six shots ready to end a man's life. Swordsmen didn't quite enjoy fighting gunners, really, not when they had virtually infinite ammo and no reloading time. Bullets are harder to dodge than sword-thrusts, you see, at least most of the time. The red blur zigzagged through the air, attempting to evade the flurry of shots.
Two went by effortlessly
Other two went into his jacket
The fifth grazed his torso, leaving a burn as it went past
The sixth would hit for sure, causing the cornered Assassin to think outside the box
Without any other options he pushed the hunk of mental forward, hoping it would absorb some of the hit he was about to take.
Blocking with a rapier was a flawed concept from the start, and unsurprisingly the explosion threw him away as he was pushed by the energy of the shot. His arm throbbed a bit from the stupid deed. The unpacked energy of the blow had ripped away a few tiny pieces, but the majority of the limb remained in place and still gripping the now smoking sword. The bigger problem now would be getting closer again.
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Post by Francis Drake on Mar 20, 2016 6:18:02 GMT
The pirate watched as the elusive red stranger came at her, well tried at the very least, her shots weren't as accurate as one would have wanted, she watched as he tried to dart past her shots, four were ineffective one seemed to do some damage and the final one was what seemed to cause problem for the red man.
He blocked the final shot with his rapier though it seemed he had not expected the power of those shots, condensed prana shots were nothing to mess with after all and it seemed as if the red-man was suffering from the effects, as he was sent back and looked to be in a tad of a pickle.
" Hah! Never was much for dancing, but target practice is always fun! hueeeh!" Francis let out as she raised her smoking guns and with a sterner look on her face she'd attempt to fire off two shots, both aimed at his legs, tipping the barrels up a bit she'd attempt to fire one towards his chest and finally the last one at his head. While this was quite interesting to do battle like this...Drake wasn't one for fair fights at all, and had an ace up her sleeve that she was just waiting to bring out.
Her noble phantasm was not perfect for situations like these....though parts of it was, the minor part of her ship which was the canons could always prove to be helpful though it was perhaps not too wise to shoot them off wildly when there were knocked out targets and the hallways of the complex...though should the need arise then there was always the chance to use them.
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Post by Elusive Red Stranger on Apr 5, 2016 20:59:37 GMT
It was undeniable that the first wave of shots had got him good. The man had seen guns in his time, no doubt, but men don't fight like Servants do and they don't have the skills that. Despite the insults of his many enemies, he had never once been a rat, and would not allow himself to be cornered like one. At distance he was definitely at a loss, and though the pirate would probably prefer to keep it that way, he wouldn't indulge her. The first wave had been indeed her win, but now that he knew what the projectiles were like, it was a whole new game.
The counter dash began, with his eyes glaring the still warm barrel, he burst from side to side with each jump drawing closer and closer. Bullets meant to stop him erupted upon reaching the ground instead; a shot meant for his chest was narrowly avoided by shifting all his weight to the left and side-stepping it... A final bullet aimed for his head and the flower-hilted rapier had already, unorthodoxly, been swung to make sure the gun swayed away from shooting at it's target. The gap had been closed in short seconds notice, and the eyes and motions of roguish swordsman had a single message for the makeshift markswoman- "If you want to hit me again, you better find a way put that gun-barrel in my mouth"
His off-hand went to grab hers, just making sure she did not have the chance to pull any nasty tricks.
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