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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on May 18, 2016 6:14:42 GMT
Finn had sent word to the new Assamite in town, having heard through the Network of his latest actions. Curiosity burned fresh in his chest; entertainment was certain to follow. The eggplant haired monstrosity of a man had suggested they meet outside of Amy's reign, where any fight that might break out be strictly between them. He didn't want to risk the unforgiving fist of the Ice Queen coming down on their heads.
Gloved hands stuck deep in the pockets of his lab coat, he wandered down the dark streets just outside of Nagasaki, kicking his foot up with every step. He seemed full of mirth, a too wide grin across his face, fading only as he whistled a random tune. Even the song was mad, a mixture of strange noises that didn't seem to go together no matter how one looked. He was plucking free tones from the minds of his Clan, all throughout the world, and bringing them to life with no rhyme nor reason.
His mind was blank and empty, an endless expanse of white noise. Malkav had, once upon a time, taught him how to keep away from the dangerous, prying powers of those that would seek to control him. If he didn't think, how could anyone manipulate his thoughts? His manic laughter tumbled free mid whistle, but he didn't stop his joyous walk. Whenever Eto was ready, he'd find him.
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Post by Eto on May 19, 2016 0:03:58 GMT
Eto had received Finn's summons earlier in the evening. Why the madman had decided to summon him had only a handful of reasons. Either something was going down with the oddly titled prince's mad husband, or there was something the lunatic himself wanted. The mercenary decided to be prepared for both. He donned an older set of his armor, black studded leather with signs and vigils designed to ward off evil and magic. He'd seen some of what the madman was capable of, and if he was a vampire as he seemed, he was most certainly far more than he let on.
Eto wouldn't take chances with him. Normally that would mean avoiding the threat, studying it, and taking it out either at a distance, or in a controlled environment. Unfortunately Finn was too valuable, knew things the mercenary wanted to know, needed to know. He finished throwing his cloak over his shoulders, buckling his sword belt to his hips. The mercenary was ready to meet the madman.
It took him very little time to spot the madman, walking alone in the middle of the night in a flawlessly white lab coat. Eto came out of his run a hundred yards in front of Finn, his cloak settling out around his shoulders. "Evening." He called out to the madman. His voice it's normal mix of accents.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on May 19, 2016 2:33:32 GMT
Finn acted as if he didn't notice Eto, as if he hadn't felt the ripple of discontent his run had created through the Network. Obliviousness was easy to feign as he continued his aimless walk, never faltering in his random whistling. His green eyes were alight with excitement at the promises the night held, and only brightened when Eto finally called out for his attention. He had wondered how long the Assamite would linger just outside of his range in an attempt to assess the situation. He seemed like the bait and trap kind of man, after all.
He was delighted that he didn't have to wait. Without missing a beat, he raised one hand, his glove the same unnaturally clean white as his coat, and give a little finger waggle wave. He had a "song" to finish before Eto would get his undivided attention. He started to recede from the minds of his Clanmates, but it was a slow process to return to his overwhelming white noise.
Finn's tongue darted out and lapped idly at his front teeth, looking almost predatory as those emerald eyes fell upon him. Slowly, his head tilted to one side, but his eggplant hair did not move. "Hellooooo, nurse," he greeted in a low purr, his eyes half-lidded, his voice perfectly mimicking the Animaniacs. "And how is your evening, Mister Vaaaaaadia?"
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Post by Eto on May 19, 2016 3:58:02 GMT
Eto's eyed the madman as he stepped toward him, carefully keeping his distance between himself and Finn. Losing his own mind was not something he had any desire to experience again any time soon, and if half of the things he'd read about the Malkavian's were true. That was indeed a risk he would be taking dealing with the giant.
"Evenin' Finndero Lauden." He responded to the approaching figure, his steps carefully matching the distance each of the giant's took. While it might look comical to an outsider watching the event, each step, the placement of each foot allowed him freedom of movement with just the slightest shift of his weight. Eto dwarfed the massive scientist, and he was well aware of that. That awareness gave him a healthy respect for the vampires space. "It's been a moonstruck evening. A summons from a creature I recognize, and have met long before I'd ever arrived in this city, yet I can figure not exact memory of where, when or why. So moonstruck sounds about right."
Eto stopped back stepping after a few moments, deciding that if it was going to be a brawl, he might as well get it done and over it. Otherwise his caution would be a waste of time. "So what is it Finndero desires of an ignorant walking masquerade breach such as myself?" He asked, though his telltale glowing eyes were in fact hidden behind his square half framed sunglasses, and most of his skin was covered by clothing or armor of one type or another. It would be the swords that gave him away if anything, and those would not be removed. At least not while he was out and about, and for the most part... Living.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on May 19, 2016 5:44:37 GMT
"Awww," Finn openly pouted, the look strange and distorted across his features. His mouth looked a little too wide for his face, and pulled down in a frown, almost seemed to be melting. The lunatic looked, for a moment, truly upset by the distrust so obvious in Eto's movements. No matter how many steps he took, he remained just outside his range. One hundred yards... It was easy to stretch that far, but it would require a little tug on the Web like strings of the Network, and he didn't want to alarm any of his friends.
Finally, he came to a stop, staring at the Assamite and tilting his head to the opposite side. His frown was replaced by a feral looking grin that exposed all of his teeth. "Is this form not pleeeeaaaasing to you?" He asked, cackling for a moment. "And here, I thought we were friends. Was I wrong, Mister Vadia? Are we not friends?" There was obviously a threat behind his question as he raised both hands, palms up towards the sky. He appeared completely unarmed, no sword or gun hanging around his waist.
But anyone who knew the madman knew he didn't need a weapon.
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Post by Eto on May 19, 2016 5:59:16 GMT
Eto remained where he was, watching the madman with trained careful eyes. "Finn doesn't have friends. I don't have friends, and that wouldn't make either of us friends. Temporary brothers in arms perhaps. Allies for the time being. But we are not friends.You're dangerous, frightfully so, and more than willing to play the dangerous games. You chased me over Kaba Island, you took a lethal blow for the oddly titled princes husband, and you've put vampires out of commission faster than I've seen in a long time. I'm not playing with that fire Findero."
The mercenaries hands dropped automatically to the hilts of his scimitars, not a threatening gesture by any means, but a comforting one to the fiery haired vampire. "Where do I recognize you from Findero, perhaps we were friends a long time ago, but not now. Not while I know so little." He recognized threatening, predatory, dangerous, it was written all over the madman's features. But how deep did that really run, and why was it that he was threatening him? Eto's mind raced with the possibilities, with every possible reason. Findero wasn't a mercenary, nor did he seem like the kind to be paid off. Eto hadn't trudged in his territory, nor murdered anyone in the city without Findero's own help and prodding. Something was wrong.
"Why did you summon me this evening Findero Lauden?" He asked, keeping on the balls of his feet.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on May 19, 2016 7:20:05 GMT
"Aww. We're not friends?" He asked in a low voice, stretching his arms out to the side as far as he could manage, exposing the black button-down shirt he wore beneath his coat. His grin grew again and he continued to tilt his head until his neck made an obnoxious popping sound, his eyes flashing from green to grey. In the blink of an eye, Finn was gone from before him.
Don stood in his place, in her host form, stark naked. Her head was tilted at the same angle, but her expression was contorted into a look of agony. "Is this better? Does this make us friends? Or are we not friends either?" Tears started to fall down not-Don's cheeks as she reached up to claw at her chest, the skin turning red beneath her nails. "I thought you would keep me safe!"
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Post by Eto on May 19, 2016 21:53:47 GMT
Eto froze for only the briefest of moments before he started moving toward the not-Don. The ruby glow from behind his glasses grew so that it was far more than just an eerie light, but a luminous radiance shining around his square framed glasses. "Drop the bloody glamour." He growled, closing the distance. His fingers popping noisily as he flexed his hands.
He was growing angrier and angrier as he approached whomever it was masquerading as Don. "Or aren't we friends?" His voice had shifted to something darker, angrier. The rage that bubbles up inside him screamed for blood, blood the mercenary was more than happy to give it.
"Let's fuckin go." His voice dropped again to gutteral levels. And just as suddenly as he'd stopped, he was running straight for not-Don.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on May 19, 2016 22:14:03 GMT
The moment Eto rushed the creature, a grin crossed it's features, exposing triangular fangs, not unlike Mizuki's shark smile. Spittle spilled out, slobbering down its chin as two horns sprouted from its forehead, twisting and gnarling in their journey up seven inches towards the sky. The demon's horns were sharp enough to impale and a beautiful ivory color, but most definitely not Don's.
"Let's!" It shouted in a voice most definitely male. It ran to meet Eto, raising both hands. Fire erupted from its fingertips, glowing blue in its heat. As it returned the rush, fireballs erupted and flew towards the mercenary.
As the two began their battle, the darkness around them deepened and anger pulsed freely from the shadows.
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Post by Eto on May 19, 2016 23:06:18 GMT
Rage bubbles inside the vampire mercenary as he pivoted around both fireballs. With that same speed, he blitzed the shark toothed daemon, leaping up and over him, twisting in mid air to grab at the middle of both his horns. Then if he succeeded, he'd continue his fall, drilling the heels of his boots into the creatures spine, meaning to break his back and completely cripple him.
Rage was burning inside his core, screaming for blood, for death, for fury. But it was the logic that won out, he wouldn't break the demon in half, only cripple him until he got some answers.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on May 19, 2016 23:39:26 GMT
Eto moved too quickly for it to stop him and he managed to grab ahold of his horns. The demon let out a squeal of surprise as his glamour was dropped. Red skin, black hair, and the same crystalline eyes as his niece. It wasn't difficult to recognize the younger Arian brother from Don's memories. Marth wore latex that clung to his shoulders and exposed his torso, well muscled, and latex upon both legs. He looked like a monster out of a fetish porn, and he liked it that way.
As the demon hit the ground, he seemed to explode, raw power attempting to force the Assamite on his back up before he could break his spine. His face was contorted in a grimace, but he was focused. "Fucking pauper piece of shit," he roared, reaching behind himself in an attempt to grab ahold of Eto. "You deserve this!"
Both parties seemed too distracted to see the way the shadows crawled closer to them both, tendrils beginning to worm their way towards the brawling duo. The anger pulsed stronger and if one looked close enough, they'd see the tell tale glow of emerald eyes as something moved closer.
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Post by Eto on May 31, 2016 19:41:59 GMT
Fury burned through him as power erupted around him, brutal hot power. Continuing his assault he slammed one heel into the creatures spine kicking for the creatures wrist in an attempt to keep him from grabbing him. The power however washed over him in thick hot waves. The power was sick, disgusting, absolutely vile. It took a lot of will power not to just double over and wretch.
"Who the hell are you beast?" He growled furiously. "This pauper has a pathetic demon by the horns. What does that say about you filth?" He growled, not at all enjoying this fight or possible kill, he just wanted the creature dead and he was more than willing to end it's life.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on May 31, 2016 19:59:25 GMT
He managed to escape the kick to his spine, but only barely. His power managed to reinforce his frame as Eto grabbed at his wrist, successfully taking hold of it. However, it left him open enough for another attack as his other hand came up, powerful claws raking down the vampire's arm. He bared his fangs at him and wiggled, struggling to try and escape his grasp.
"I am Marth Arian, of the Devil House, and I've come to put an end to this disgusting AFFAIR." He nearly spat the words at the monster on top of him, trying his best to get away from the threat. More power began to pulse in the air, suffocating in its strength and so thick, it could almost be cut with a knife. He threw himself to one side to try and catch his opponent off balance.
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Post by Eto on Jun 1, 2016 3:35:10 GMT
The angry mercenary had come prepared for a fight, he wasn't aware of exactly how well prepared he'd come. The slash the demon had attempted to rake across his arm skidded off the well used ancient armor, leaving hardly a scratch as the demon under him bucked and threw himself around like a wild bull. Eto's scowl turned absolutely gruesome as he was whipped to the side, his grip on the demon's horn still firm, he simply let Marth throw him toward the side, and all he did was use his horn like a stripper pole, twirling around as he brought a very specific red dagger, out of his hair, bringing it towards the creatures eye.
"Die you bloody beast!" He growled attempting to drive the knife home and into the creatures brain matter. There was rage, rage like he hadn't felt in ages, but he was still in control, he hadn't at all tried to release his bindings on the creature. He was going to kill it, end it and make it as bloody gruesome as he was physically able. Marth didn't deserve mercy, or a proper burial, or any act of kindness or honor. "I hope you rot beast." He growled out, hating the demon with every fiber of his being. Nothing made the vampire hate more than what Marth and Matrae had done.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on Jun 1, 2016 6:08:02 GMT
The knife found its home and the demon made a single, short screech of agony as the pain exploded and then, immediately, died down. It happened quickly and was over within moments as Marth's body erupted into a pit of flames, consuming everything it could for the brief seconds he had. The Shadowlands were quick to claim him, violently pulling his soul into the other side of Hell.
As the flames began to die down, silence settled around him, the shadows remaining still. The emerald eyes that had watched the fight seemed to disappear into the darkness once more. The only tell that Finn had been there at all was his soft chuckling, filling that silence before it, too, died down, just like Marth.
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