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OMVI: The OMness Shall Continue, Yo.
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Sharp



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PostPosted: Fri Apr 06, 2007 6:06 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I will if you write a lengthy rap song including that line. Not another word of it on this forum.
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Tacofiend
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 06, 2007 6:24 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Well, I don't think that Dash is going to get messed with until the end of this round, so would you all be so kind as to not try and persue him. He's been involved in nearly every fight and has been bruised, battered and mutilated from the very beginning. I think that's enough.
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Mushroom Pie
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 06, 2007 10:37 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

The little wooden son of a bitch wouldn't let go of Whitcomb's neck. He fell to the ground and squirmed; his enemy's grip didn't shift even a tiny bit. He desperately gripped at the firm wooden hands, but they refused to yield. After a few moments, the world became hazy, and slowed down. His brain wasn't getting enough oxygen; he was going to die. As though it could immediately sense this, the wooden little murderer twisted around Whitcomb's body and pinned him to the ground. He grabbed his knife, which had fallen to the ground, and rose it high overhead. Staring at the empty face of the demented monster, a strange realization overcame Whitcomb.

He was going to die.

It was weird, that last moment before death. It was only an instant, and yet it seemed to last an eternity. He didn't feel any remorse, any panic, any fear; the time for that had already came and passed. He felt nothing but calm, solemn acceptance.

It was weird, that last moment before death. It was even weirder when death didn't come.

A tall figure leaped out from behind and knocked the wooden creature away.

"Need a hand?" the man asked as Whitcomb pulled himself to his feet, massaging his throat. Before he could respond, a loud sound of cracking wood filled the air, and the two turned to see a massive tree trunk falling towards them.

"Run!" the stranger called out. Whitcomb wasn't about to disagree. He dove out of the way, just avoiding the oncoming tree. The other man crawled out from underneath the tree, surprisingly unscratched.

"That's some trick you've got there," Whitcomb commented. The man smiled and nodded. Suddenly, a loud pounding sound was heard on the other side of the tree, and the knife from earlier came flying over the trunk and dug into the ground. Whitcomb picked it up, examined it briefly, and stabbed it through his suit for safe-keeping.

"Hey, thanks back there," Whitcomb said to the other man with a grateful smile.

"It was my pleasure," he replied. Whitcomb extended his hand.

"Name's Whitcomb," he said. The other man enveloped Whitcomb's small hand with his own and shook it.

"Victor Guiles," he answered. Whitcomb's brow furrowed in thought.

"Guiles, Guiles... Hey! I remember you!" he said after a brief moment, snapping his fingers. "You're that high-class art thief, aren't you"

"Why, yes. Have we met before?"

"Yeah, we have, but I'm sure you don't remember me. My boss hired you to steal him some ugly piece of crap to hang in his office. Remember? Mysterious phone call in the middle of the night?" Victor thought for a moment.

"Why, yes, that does sound somewhat familiar."

"And when you refused, do you remember suddenly feeling a gun against your head?"

"Come to think of it, I do."

"That was me! Small world, eh?"

"Yes, I supposed so," Victor replied, his voice now filled with much more suspicion. Whitcomb immediately understood what he was thinking.

"Oh, hey, buddy, it's not like that at all. I don't work for Them anymore."

"Well, that's a relief," Victor said with a small sigh."

"As a matter of fact, let me give you a little hint. You ever feel like you're being watched?"

"Well, er, I suppose I do sometimes."

"That's because you are," Whitcomb said flatly. "They've got at least 15 snipers trained on you at all times. If I were you, I'd make sure my bedroom didn't have any windows."

"Wait, what?" Victor asked, his brow furrowing and his ears perking up. Whitcomb ignored him, as his own thoughts began to darken.

"Wait a second!" he blurted out. "They keep fifteen guys on you all the time, and you're here, which means... shit! You've led them right to me! That explains how that rookie managed to find me." he looked up at Victor.
"Our lives are in danger."

"Well, I'd certainly say so, given the circumstances." Whitcomb paced back and forth, pulling at his hair and swearing under his breath.

"Well, listen," Victor said, trying to be helpful. "Given that we're both stuck in a similar situation, what do you say we stick together for a while?" Whitcomb stopped and turned towards him.

"What, you mean partner up?" Victor nodded.

"Precisely. We can help each other stay alive." Whitcomb grinned.

"All right, sounds like a good idea to me. But, first thing's first: let's have us a little fight." Victor raised an eyebrow.

"What on earth would we do that for?" he asked. Whitcomb put up his fists and danced around a bit.

"We need to know how much we can rely on each other. We need a good understanding of the other's strengths and weaknesses. What better way get that knowledge?"

"This... really seems like a bad idea," Victor said.

"C'mon!" Whitcomb demanded a little more harshly. "I don't trust anyone who's not willing to kick my ass. Some one that doesn't want to take a swing at me is a little bit too nice, if you catch my drift." Victor half-heartedly shrugged.

"All right then, if you insist. Come on at me, then." Whitcomb immediately dropped his fists.

"What? Oh, no no no. That's not how I work. I need an accurate idea of my opponent's strength, so I always let the other guy take a free swing at me."

"What? That's ridiculous! What if he knocks you out?"

"I'm a pretty tough guy," Whitcomb answered. "If you can take me out in one punch, I didn't have much of a chance to begin with. Now come on, pop me one in the nose already."

"Well... all right. If that's what you really want," Victor said as he raised his back leg.

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Wiznerd
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PostPosted: Sat Apr 07, 2007 3:02 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I walked through the forest. Tapping my makeshift guide stick as I passed what I assumed to be trees, and other flora. Once I made into deep enough into the thicket of growth. I retrieved my athame from my belt. Touching the ruby and throwing it into the soil. The vibrations echoed beneath the surface, eventually I found another individual, one laying on the ground, his pulse weak, and his body wreaking a sense of inner turmoil.

Picking up the blade, I walked towards this new found individual, his frame being quite large almost a mockery of what they human body should be. As suspected he laid motionless, his breathing slow. Tapping my stick ever so softly I found the bottles of what seemed to be alcohol surrounding the motionless figure. He must have had the daring one to many drinks leaving him in this vegetated shock. Not wanting to waste this opportunity, I searched the area for vines, weaving them together to create a makeshift rope; I tied each of the limbs of the passed out individual to a different tree. I restrained him in case the toxins keeping him in the state wore off. Then searching his body for any potential threat, I found a few firearms, quickly removing the ammunition, and placing it in one of the folds of my garment. Taking the guns I buried each of them around the body associated with no pattern, but complete randomness.

Apparently, the large man must have regained consciousness for awhile, as he threw up the contents of his stomach. The vomit dripped off his lower lip he looked up. Somewhat dazed and confused, he lay bound in shock. Only coming to the conclusion of what I seemed to be doing, did he finally erupt with a large malicious anger.

“What the bloody hell, are ye doing with my shit?” his face erupted in vibrations as the blood in his body circulated faster, his weak pulse far surpassing the normal rate of an individual half his size.

My first inclination was to give him the truth, but I found it oddly entertaining how he managed to twist and turn to escape the ivy restrains. His efforts ending in defeat, as he realized the makeshift rope was too strong to overcome his current condition.

“I am helping you?” I remarked as my voice echoed off the trees, leading the belligerent individual only further into rage.

“God Damnit you are, why don’t you fight like a real man, and let me bury you smart little ass into the ground.” Once again the hot air escaping his mouth, but yet no strength behind it. This was only followed by more repetitious slandering.

“Will you please shut up, you’re going to cause someone to notice you?” Sensing that this individual would be causing too much havoc with noise for someone not to notice, I located a large blunt stick close by. I tapped his head the vibrations giving a full scan of his body that once more growing limp and motionless.

Knowing my time was limited until someone would be upon the scene; I retrieved my dagger, and drove it across his palm, the blade becoming red and slick. Placing it back on my belt for the moment, I hastily buried his stick, covering everything with a thin layer of leaves. Then securing the bonds on the trees once again I left back into the forest, with my guide stick in hand. As I left, one could hear the individual throwing up again, though this time the vomit covered his chest, and not the soil. This was all followed by more fits and outburst of rage. I thought to myself that this individual was just asking to die. A smirk came across my face, knowing that if no one did find him and kill him, he would simply die of dehydration.

Heading back into deep forest, I found a small niche. Removing the ammunition I placed it here; know full well that it would most likely be more danger to me than aid.

I continued to trek searching for another possible ploy. My stick tapping in front of me I paced briskly through the forest, my bare feet wedging the moist soil beneath me. The cool dirt was a pleasurable experience as the afternoon sun began to rise overhead, or whatever the heating source for the world may be. The rays of this sun, filtered through the leaves casting cool shadows through their path, leaving another item to be added to the mixture of knowledge.

Then as before vibrations were felt, what would be miniscule vibration quickly turned into large or noticeable tremors even to those who had not tuned abilities. I crouched to the surface of the ground, my palms flat against the soil. Clinching the dirt with the other hand, my mind concentrated on the epicenter of this event, the constant rebounding effect making it difficult to track. Then behind many forms I located two individuals, neither of which I had seen before. Each of their stances provoking an idea of a meeting, but of disagreement or alliance was the question.

Not wanting to miss out on a possible opportunity, I raised my head, clutched my guide stick and traveled into the forest to find them. Circling carefully around not to distract anything, or any other individuals.

I walked silently, my breath with the same patterns of the cool breeze that aided against the hot air. My feet were curled now, careful so that I was not to leave footprints for someone to follow; remaining low to the ground with the short undergrowth I approached the two individuals.

I continued assume a cat like pose on the ground, my fingers outstretched on the soil. My heartbeat acting as the only vibration I strained myself to find a place to watch the events unfold peacefully. Finally detecting a small dugout area, where the large tree once stood. The main root ball now displaced I crawled into the earthen crevice. Then taking my guide stick, I knocked the remaining dirt from root ball, it closed off the sunlight, as well as giving a good protection from anyone seeming to appear. Now buried, I removed my knife from my belt, touching the ruby, and dug it into the earth around me; I notice how much easier it slid with the dry blood of the last individual acting as viscous grease.

I place both my hand on the hilt of the blade, I would imagine that if I had eyes I would be closing them to focus, but only chuckled under my breath as such a thought crossed my mind. Focusing now, I realized I had choose a perfect spot to watch the events unfold, the large tree above me act as great receiver, it branches scattered on the ground picking up vibrations far in the distance. I saw more individual far from the vicinity each toying with their own strategy, as well as picking up small what seemed to be dwarfs, though there bodies did not seem to be made of flesh.

Slightly distracted I focused my attention once again on the quarrel between the two individuals. The walked in unison out to what seemed to be a mutual area. Their voice every once in a while would reach a good enough caliber to be picked up through their entire body, and down through the soil beneath them.

I quickly comprehended syllables and statement, but could not completely understand the full content of their conversation. Finally their bodies shifted into a fighting stance, the position of their weight remarked both balance and pose. This led me to believe that these individuals were not amateurs in the style of hand to hand combat, but possible masters… or greatly proficient. The taller one then shifted his weight, making the first move. I carefully observed as the individual continue from there, each shifting weight sending vibrations that mocked each move of the body.

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Tacofiend
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PostPosted: Sat Apr 07, 2007 4:17 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

un-served.
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Wiznerd
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PostPosted: Mon Apr 09, 2007 2:28 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

somebody post please....?
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Mushroom Pie
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PostPosted: Mon Apr 09, 2007 2:40 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Eh?

I don't really want to post again even though I think I'm elligible to. But if you guys keep killing this round some more, I guess I'll have to.
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PostPosted: Tue Apr 10, 2007 2:18 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Reserved. I'm sleeping on this one though.
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Tacofiend
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PostPosted: Wed Apr 11, 2007 1:15 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

“Well… all right,” I told Whitcomb nervously. “If that’s what you really want.” I lifted my back leg, shifting my weight on my front. I stared back into Whitcomb’s determined eyes for a moment. The man was serious.

“You don’t trust anyone who’s not willing to strike you, eh?” Whitcomb gave me my answer in the form of a smirk. He never disrupted his stance. “Well, I have to tell you that I’m not really one for a fight where there is no need.”

“Oh, but there is a need, my friend,” Whitcomb seemed to tighten up slightly. “I can’t completely trust you until I’ve seen what you can really do.”

“Is there any way that I could reason with you to postpone this match for another time?” I asked. With enough luck, and the right words I believed that I could avoid engaging someone altogether. “My priority at the moment is not fighting. I only want to know where I am right now.”

“You know,” Whitcomb answered, finally dropping his arms and standing upright once more, “I hadn’t given that much thought until now.” Seeming to dismiss his previous desires for a fight, he now walked over to the fallen tree that was laid out across the clearing and sat down. He leaned back against it and stared straight up at the sky. “I’ve been keeping track of the sun throughout the day.”

“To tell time?” I suggested.

“Well, I would if the sun would ever move. It’s been stuck in that same position all day.” I lifted my gaze to the sky, shading my eyes with my hand. I had not taken any notice of this. Since I had not been following its position earlier, I was going to have to take Whitcomb’s word for it for now.

“You seem to be as lost as I am.” he looked back at me. “I came from a stream not too far back. The water is amazingly clear.” Whitcomb raised a brow. “It shouldn’t be that way. I can see the ground below. The water should be brown. There’s something wrong with where we are right now. It seems….” I struggled for the word. “Fake.” We sat for a moment in silence, listening intently to the sounds of nature that surrounded us.

“So about that fight,” said Whitcomb, bringing the conversation back to where the two of us had begun. “You owe me one.” I stared back at the small man for a moment. He sat there leaned against the tree, as confident as ever.

As long as he was off my back for now.

“Deal,” I said, “but you have a little growing up to do first.” Whitcomb simply rolled his eyes and gave me the finger, choosing to focus once again on the subtle shifting of our surroundings.


I was essentially fixing things with this post. There were a couple of things about the way Mush's post had set up my character that I wanted to rectify.
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Mushroom Pie
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PostPosted: Wed Apr 11, 2007 1:16 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Reserved.
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PostPosted: Thu Apr 12, 2007 6:52 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

I will not be here this weekend and would love to get a post before I leave... Rolling Eyes

so...?
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Its_The_Sneak!!!
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PostPosted: Thu Apr 12, 2007 7:09 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

so reserve. Mushpie's time is up.
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Wiznerd
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PostPosted: Thu Apr 12, 2007 7:38 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

But it has not been two story post after my last post. So I thought I could not post...
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PostPosted: Thu Apr 12, 2007 10:24 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Then don't reserve.
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PostPosted: Thu Apr 12, 2007 10:24 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Wiznerd wrote:
But it has not been two story post after my last post. So I thought I could not post...
yeah, but that was almost a week ago. You're clear.
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