02-20-2015, 11:53 PM
The vast majority of the dancers moved with grace and elegance, flawlessly dancing to the music like they did this every day. The less refined guests, however, were either stomping on each other's feet or avoiding the dance floor entirely in fear of embarrassing themselves as the others were. It was an amusing display to watch the screw-ups of those who hold themselves so highly, but Alain tried his best to eavesdrop on the nearby group's discussion while keeping up his act instead of giving his full attention to the dance floor and ruining his chances to find some nefarious plot, or whatever else it could be...which wasn't going all that well.
Despite the others being completely absorbed in their little chat, the mercenary still hesitated to get closer in order to actually hear what they were talking about instead of catching small snippets of the conversation. Something about killing a terrible monster, from the sound of things. The obvious conclusion was that they were gunning for the Tarrasque; the hideous building-sized monstrosity that relentlessly attacked a village not too long ago. But, he had no way of knowing if his suspicions were correct other than walking up and asking them himself, or getting closer to eavesdrop on the conversation, both options being a potential risk to his health, though the conclusions he'd imagined weren't all that different in the end.
Carefully contemplating his chances, idly tapping his gloved finger on the table as he did so, the "thinking trance" that he was now in was suddenly shattered into a million pieces at the sound of a glass breaking on the floor, the apparent host furiously yelling at one of his companions. It was a pretty distinct display, a few of the partygoers turning their heads but wisely deciding to not interfere or comment in the interest of preserving their lives. The party-giver bowed his head at the child as what seemed to be an apology, though it was hard to tell from where Alain sat. The argument was then, apparently, forgotten about, as the kid's voice didn't raise, no standing up in fury and starting to walk away, or turning to strike the man. A servant merely brought the men their tea and the indignation of the host was merely a memory. The tall person then started to speak words that he could not hear, and the rest was history.
Alain was JUST about to give up and introduce himself, standing up in his chair before a woman wearing a wombat mask came into his view, heading straight for the self-proclaimed "hunter's" table. Her intentions were clear; she wanted to interrupt the chat in order to make her own place in the conversation. Alain took the opportunity, darkness spreading across his cloak while the table was occupied, the red being devoured by the black before anyone caught a glimpse of the mercenary fading into the shadow.
The music that he was barely paying attention to anymore changed as the woman was introducing herself, the band moving off their stage to make space for the actors and their play. Velgr chose not to pay attention to the tragic story which was snatching the spotlight, instead focusing on what he hoped were his new allies.
Each step was careful, masked by the movements of the passerby's. It wasn't long before he'd gotten directly behind who he assumed was the host, despite seeing a few other predator masks on the dance floor which contradicted his theory that said host was the only one with a predator mask, a golden wolf mask still stood out and seemed perhaps a bit egotistical, as if the man considered himself above these "peasants". Though, it was no business of the merc's to judge others and, honestly, he didn't especially care. What he did care about was taking the Tarrasque down, and what better way to do it than with a few helpers, or, meatshields? It was a perfect opportunity, and while nobody at the table seemed to hold a weapon, he assumed they must have had some form of magic to make up for it, otherwise why would they be trying to engage the abomination in good 'ol fisticuffs?
Velgr's opinion of the man who called himself Dio wasn't the highest, but the speech was executed very well. It sounded like he'd rehearsed it beforehand in preparation for this very moment. There were no objections, and nobody stood up to leave the table in fear of what was to come...not yet, anyway. I suppose this group could be worse. If all else fails, I can always just ditch 'em. The darkness then faded from his cloak, returning to the crimson while he was still standing behind Dio, looking like an assassin about to fulfill his duties and kill his target. Unfortunately, the other member's faces were obscured by their masks, but despite this, Alain was pretty certain that their expressions had changed from relatively calm to absolutely priceless. It was a shame, really, though perhaps a blessing-he might've broken down laughing and made everything awkward, and unlikely as it was, anything's possible.
The mercenary spoke before any attacks could be launched, speaking calmly for someone in his position. "Don't suppose you'd mind if I cut in?" Dio turned around at the sound of a voice, but Alain continued speaking before he could be interrupted. "My name's Velgr: Information broker and mercenary. I overheard your little chat and, well..." A sinister smile spread across his face, and while it couldn't be seen through the mask, it still managed to be surprisingly creepy. "...Don't suppose there's still room for one more in this ah, monster hunt?"
Despite the others being completely absorbed in their little chat, the mercenary still hesitated to get closer in order to actually hear what they were talking about instead of catching small snippets of the conversation. Something about killing a terrible monster, from the sound of things. The obvious conclusion was that they were gunning for the Tarrasque; the hideous building-sized monstrosity that relentlessly attacked a village not too long ago. But, he had no way of knowing if his suspicions were correct other than walking up and asking them himself, or getting closer to eavesdrop on the conversation, both options being a potential risk to his health, though the conclusions he'd imagined weren't all that different in the end.
Carefully contemplating his chances, idly tapping his gloved finger on the table as he did so, the "thinking trance" that he was now in was suddenly shattered into a million pieces at the sound of a glass breaking on the floor, the apparent host furiously yelling at one of his companions. It was a pretty distinct display, a few of the partygoers turning their heads but wisely deciding to not interfere or comment in the interest of preserving their lives. The party-giver bowed his head at the child as what seemed to be an apology, though it was hard to tell from where Alain sat. The argument was then, apparently, forgotten about, as the kid's voice didn't raise, no standing up in fury and starting to walk away, or turning to strike the man. A servant merely brought the men their tea and the indignation of the host was merely a memory. The tall person then started to speak words that he could not hear, and the rest was history.
Alain was JUST about to give up and introduce himself, standing up in his chair before a woman wearing a wombat mask came into his view, heading straight for the self-proclaimed "hunter's" table. Her intentions were clear; she wanted to interrupt the chat in order to make her own place in the conversation. Alain took the opportunity, darkness spreading across his cloak while the table was occupied, the red being devoured by the black before anyone caught a glimpse of the mercenary fading into the shadow.
The music that he was barely paying attention to anymore changed as the woman was introducing herself, the band moving off their stage to make space for the actors and their play. Velgr chose not to pay attention to the tragic story which was snatching the spotlight, instead focusing on what he hoped were his new allies.
Quote:"Now, with the prying ears occupied elsewhere I'd like to make you all aware of the danger inherent in this mission. Other hunting teams have already tried and failed to down this beast, and in spite of it's size it's said to have lightning speed. However this all pales before it's regenerative ability which is rumored to only be stopped by an intense flame or acid that scours it's wounds. That all is coupled with a hide tougher than iron, even catapults and cannons have been unable to deal lasting damage. Now all of this is hearsay from survivors of previous parties and from the tales of militia who have tried to stop it from destroying their towns."
Each step was careful, masked by the movements of the passerby's. It wasn't long before he'd gotten directly behind who he assumed was the host, despite seeing a few other predator masks on the dance floor which contradicted his theory that said host was the only one with a predator mask, a golden wolf mask still stood out and seemed perhaps a bit egotistical, as if the man considered himself above these "peasants". Though, it was no business of the merc's to judge others and, honestly, he didn't especially care. What he did care about was taking the Tarrasque down, and what better way to do it than with a few helpers, or, meatshields? It was a perfect opportunity, and while nobody at the table seemed to hold a weapon, he assumed they must have had some form of magic to make up for it, otherwise why would they be trying to engage the abomination in good 'ol fisticuffs?
Quote:"Thus even I, Dio, cannot say for certain how true any of this is. Honestly if it weren't for my own abilities being as incredible as they are I wouldn't even dare to hunt this monster. Thus I have to make sure all of you are ready here, if we are to survive none of you can show a moment's hesitation in the face of this beast. One second of fear or cowardice can lead to all of our deaths. So if you doubt your ability to stare death in the eyes and charge forward in spite of the danger, I ask that you leave this table now. My heart could not bear it if any who were unwilling to lose their lives in pursuit of this goal were to be forced to fight. I will not shame any who decide to leave. This is a task that before which even the flame of a heroes courage may flicker and wither."
Velgr's opinion of the man who called himself Dio wasn't the highest, but the speech was executed very well. It sounded like he'd rehearsed it beforehand in preparation for this very moment. There were no objections, and nobody stood up to leave the table in fear of what was to come...not yet, anyway. I suppose this group could be worse. If all else fails, I can always just ditch 'em. The darkness then faded from his cloak, returning to the crimson while he was still standing behind Dio, looking like an assassin about to fulfill his duties and kill his target. Unfortunately, the other member's faces were obscured by their masks, but despite this, Alain was pretty certain that their expressions had changed from relatively calm to absolutely priceless. It was a shame, really, though perhaps a blessing-he might've broken down laughing and made everything awkward, and unlikely as it was, anything's possible.
The mercenary spoke before any attacks could be launched, speaking calmly for someone in his position. "Don't suppose you'd mind if I cut in?" Dio turned around at the sound of a voice, but Alain continued speaking before he could be interrupted. "My name's Velgr: Information broker and mercenary. I overheard your little chat and, well..." A sinister smile spread across his face, and while it couldn't be seen through the mask, it still managed to be surprisingly creepy. "...Don't suppose there's still room for one more in this ah, monster hunt?"
Super Buu Wrote:Omni points at Mickey. "Now you are a porpoise."
Retane Wrote:IM annoyed and I have to go make babies
Doomguy Wrote:@ Guu, Because we're talking about sticky white stuff and chaos gods
Dante Wrote:When all else fails, kick 'em in the dick
Demetri Malius Wrote:I wish I kept fucking Guu