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Post by Ffasma Doomsday on Mar 11, 2006 18:48:35 GMT -5
*Ffasma wiped her nose, the flow of blood beginning to lessen a little. She tenderly touched her nose, realizing that it wasn't tremendously crushed...a fracture, perhaps, but she had somehow not gotten a horrible crushed nose. She grinned, figuring this stroke of luck had to do with how "strong" she was. Little did she know the alcohol had relaxed her, even when she was running, and that combined with luck had prevented a more serious injury. Ffasma wiped her nose once more, the fur on her paw matted with blood, and looked up. Standing over her was a rat trying to help her up. Though her head was pounding and her nose still hurt, the ferret found anger wind around her. She leapt up on her own, grabbing the rat by the front of his uniform, and started shouting at him.*
'OO ARE YOU? D'YOU KNOW WHERE THAT NO-GOOD BADGER IS? HUH? DO YA? DO YA? YOU BETT'R TELL ME OR THERE'LL BE CONS-KWENCES! *The ferret breaks into another bout of coughing, but anger fueled by indignation and hung-over-ness shone in her eyes.*
OOC Oooohhh w00t for made up words!!! And I'm assuming the rat is wearing a uniform...
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Post by Typhoon on Mar 11, 2006 23:10:16 GMT -5
Rorkreg screamed for help as the crazy ferret grabbed him by the uniform and started shouting at him. He tried to bring up his spearbutt to knock her out, but failed. He could not hear what she was shouting, but the rat would not have answered anyway.
Down the street, another burly troublemaker, a weasel named Flegnis, heard the cry. He broke into a run, and, seeing a ferret with her back turned to him threatening a comrade, Flegnis knew that that was the ferret he had been sent to find. Creeping up silently behind her, he gripped his spear tightly and swung hard at the ferret's head, hoping to knock her out.
OOC: Sorry for the crazy names; I'm not very good at this kind of thing.
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Post by Ffasma Doomsday on Mar 12, 2006 14:39:59 GMT -5
OOC: Pofft, thas' fine
BIC: *Ffasma glared at the rat a moment more and then dropped him, spinning on her heel...only to be confronted by the weasel. Her eyes blaze and the unstable ferret reaches out and grabs the spear, pain shooting up her hand as the wood connect with her paw. At the same time, she gives a wobbly kick towards the weasel's midriff, nearly falling down. Again she starts shouting.*
'TUPID WEASEL! YER WORKIN' FER 'DAT STRIPEDOG! WHERE IS 'EE? DIRTY ROTTEN... *She begins shaking the speak violently, still shouting at the top of her lungs.*
OOC: Yes I just god-moded a little, but I can change it if you want ^_^
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Post by Typhoon on Mar 13, 2006 2:45:41 GMT -5
Flegnistook a step back as the ferret began shouting again. He kept his spear at the ready, though any attack by the drunk injure Ffasma was not likely to be very hard to dodge or deflect.
Seeing his chance, the shaken Rorkreg picked up his spear , stood up and swung his spear at Ffasma's head like Flegnis had done, also hoping to knock her out.
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Post by Ffasma Doomsday on Mar 13, 2006 20:51:12 GMT -5
*Ffasma, who was still shouting, suddenly felt a sharp pain in her forehead. The ferret sways for a moment, colors popping before her eyes and sounds heavily muffled. The world spins around her, yet she remains conscious, though she is in quite a bit of pain. Ffasma's eyes grow wide and she whirls around, nearly toppling over. It seems she has been doing a lot of that lately. She clutches her head and stares at the rat, her eyes wide, blood-shoot, and crazed; her breathing is heavy as she continues to stare, and suddenly, she reaches out, grabbing at the rat's uniform once more and at the same time throwing herself at him.*
YOOH HIT ME! 'OW DARE YOOH! *Ffasma continues shouting, screaming louder than any of her previous times, her profanities increasing by the moment. She seems ready to kill the rat when suddenly...
WHUMP! Ffasma collapses to the ground, snoring, but still muttering.* Typh ya mangy badger...zzz...
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Post by Typhoon on Mar 13, 2006 22:08:06 GMT -5
About a minute passed before Rorkreg and Flegnis recovered from their stunned state and examined Ffasma.
"No doubt about it. She's out cold, mate. That wuz quite a blow yew 'it 'er wid." muttered Flegnis.
"Yer. I tink we'd better get 'er back, or that stripedog'll find something worse for us to do." replied Rorkreg in equally hushed tones, afraid that anything louder would awaken the unconscious ferret.
"Come on den, we'd better get going, and in future, we'd better watch it in front of that badger. Nex' time, 'e might find sometink worse than dis fer us to do..."
The two soldiers grabbed Ffasma by the arms and dragged her unceremoniosly back to the fort.
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Post by Ffasma Doomsday on Mar 14, 2006 20:40:00 GMT -5
*Ffasma was, indeed, out cold. The mixture of the lose of blood, alcohol, lateness, and the whack on the head had finally done it to her. The ferret was only dimly aware that she was being dragged along the ground, and she could feel no pain as the rocks scraped along her back.* OOC: I'm gonna jump ahead ok? *As the trio reached the fort, Ffasma could hear voices and bustle. It was just about dawn, and a few beasts were up early. The ground changed: hard rocks and dirt to smoother floor. The ferret becomes more conscious, balancing on the line between sleep and awake. Ffasma kicks her legs, her dreams foggy and distant. She's running...running...on her back? She kicks a little more and then calms down.*
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Post by Typhoon on Mar 14, 2006 21:13:56 GMT -5
Typhoon peered through the bars of Ffasma's tower cell. Though when not drunk, Ffasma was usually harmless, the badger was taking no chances. There was always the odd chance that she would somehow remember the events of the night before. If she didn't remember anything, then all was well and good and they would apologize for the misunderstanding and release her. If she did remember, then Typh would lock her up until he had finished packing and was on board a ship off the island. Typh sincerely hoped that would not happen, as the Horde had been his home for a long time now, and he had grown attached to it.
OOC: I don't think I have the authority to lock you up, but let's just say I do for the sake of this RP and also for Typh's survival.
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Post by Ffasma Doomsday on Mar 15, 2006 20:29:05 GMT -5
*Ffasma, lying on her back in a cell, begins to stir. She has slept for nearly twelve hours and she is still feeling groggy. Yawning, the ferret props herself up on her elbows, blinking. Her head is fine, but her back is sore and so is her nose. Ffasma sniffs and gets up, giving her head a little shake, looking around. Where was she? It takes Ffasma a moment to realize that she is not, in fact, in her bedroom. Narrowing her eyes, Ffasma realizes she is in a cell...and she is not at all pleased. Memories of last night are blurry, but she can dimly remember being angry and then running into a wall (that would explain the hurt nose, she decides) and then being dragged off. But who was she angry at? Shaking her head, Ffasma peers through the bars that serve as slits for a window, taking a deep breath of the salty air and clearing her head.
What would she do? Well, seeing as she was still a little tired, she would sit and think and rest. What had she been doing? Why had she been mad. Well...it was obvious she was drunk at the time. Let's see, she had been at the beach and then a...badger, was it? happened upon her. Chances are, she was mad at the badger. The more she thought, the more little pieces of the night has remembered. She remembered running into the wall and calling for the badger, but he had not come.
And chances are the badger put her in this cell. Anger surged through her. Lock her up, would they? Ffasma's face split into a wicked grin. Well, she'd play a nasty little trick on them. She'd pretend she was delirious and they would get blamed. After all, he had left her when she was hurt...*
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Post by Typhoon on Mar 16, 2006 4:41:27 GMT -5
Though Ffasma still had not seen Typh, he could tell that what she was thinking did not bode well for him. All the telltale signs were there; quick, fast breaths, clenched paws, a blood vessel throbbing at her temple, etc. Typh had an eye all these small details, though he often had trouble interpreting them correctly. This time, though, there could be no mistake. Ffasma was angry, probably at him, and that meant that a vacation off the island, perhaps a permanent one, was necessary. The badger sighed and turned to the guard next to him and gave him his orders.
"I think I need a break off the island. Find someone to fill up all the necessary forms for me and submit them to the Council Room. Also, this ferret is in an extremely dangerous state of mind. To be exact, she hates me. Wait until my ship has left before you even go into her cell. Understand?"
The guard nodded and went off to fulfill his orders.
There was no time to lose. Typh ran as fast as he could to his rooms. Within half an hour, the badger had packed everything he owned into two large, long rectangular crates and a large cloth sack. He packed the cloth sack with his basic necessities and tied the drawstring to a spear, which he would carry. Typhoon made his way down to the town and "requisitioned" a cart, onto which he loaded the crates. Pushing the cart with one hand and holding the spear in the other, the trip to the port was uneventful. After paying the captain a merchant ship five gold pieces, he was finally taken aboard as a passenger. Typh could disembark at any of the many ports the ship would visit that seemed obscure and safe enough.
OOC: I'm g-moding a bit, hope you don't mind. You can get out and chase after Typh in your own boat if you want.
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Post by Ffasma Doomsday on Mar 16, 2006 19:03:12 GMT -5
*Ffasma sighed, blinking a few times, and immediately began to work on the lock. It was rather simple, but she was working fast and was extremely tired. After what felt like eternity, the ferret managed to open the door. Not checking to see if there were any guards, she bolted from the cell and raced down the door. She could see Typhoon leaving and she followed hastily behind, sticking to the woods. As the badger was paying his fee to get onto the boat, Ffasma slunk past, a dark streak, and immediately began to seek out a hiding place. While she didn't find a hiding place, she did find an empty room. The ferret sat on the bed, bouncing a few times, and then sighed contentedly. Tiredness began to consume her and Ffasma fought to keep her eyes open. But to no avail; Ffasma laid down, covering her face with her cloak, and fell into a rather light but restful sleep. She'd deal with that bloody stripedog later...when she was awake...*
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Post by Typhoon on Mar 16, 2006 23:16:18 GMT -5
Typhoon stowed the crates in his cabin. Dejected, he had not even bothered to find out the name of the ship or its captain. Looking out of a porthole, the badger could still faintly see the outline of the fort which had been his home for seasons. After locking the door and unpacking a few items, Typh lay on the bed and fell into a deep, though troubled, sleep.
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Post by Ffasma Doomsday on Mar 20, 2006 19:52:35 GMT -5
*Ffasma awakens just as the first fingers of evening are being unfurled. She stretches and rubs her eyes, feeling much better except for her nose. The ferret pauses for a moment, ignoring the fact that she had a mission and simply enjoying the colors of the sunset. Finally, the ferret got up, adjusting her cloak, and stepped out into the narrow hallway. She began to search each room, looking through each tiny porthole-window carefully. She had to find Typhoon...revenge MUST be extracted...*
OOC: You can decide if Typh is still asleep or awake or whatever...
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Post by Typhoon on Mar 21, 2006 7:28:36 GMT -5
Typhoon had slept away the whole day and had woken up in the late afternoon. Looking out of the porthole, he admired the myriad colours of the sunset, while also realising, however, that a certain crazy ferret would probably be looking at that same sunset. The badger shuddered and turned away from the porthole. The colours of the sun had no meaning for him while he was being pursued. They just distracted him and shone into his eyes. Opening one of the crates, Typh took out a work of art from it. It was a drawing of tall mountains and running water, drawn to convey a sense of calm and tranquility. Exactly the opposite of what the badger was feeling. he hung it on a conveniently located nail about five inches above the porthole. The drawing covered it exactly, blocking out the bright sunlight.
Now that he could concentrate, Typhoon took out a map of the seas they would be traversing and the ports they would be stopping at. Typhoon had to find the best place to disembark, lest he let the best opportunity slip through his fingers...
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Post by Ffasma Doomsday on Mar 21, 2006 20:06:51 GMT -5
*Ffasma shot a glare at a mouse who was attempting to squeeze by and the beast dashed away, muttering fretfully to himself. Scowling, Ffasma continued her search, each window proving either empty or occupied by someone other than Typhoon. She began to slip into autopilot, her mind wandering aimlessly, not really touching upon anything. She suddenly did a double-take, however, for she had seen a striped figure sitting on one of the beds, looking at something. Taking a deep breath, the ferret stared through the porthole for a few moments, making sure it was really Typhoon. Indeed it was, and Ffasma ducked down, looking down casually as though she had seen something on her foot. Admittedly, it was hard for Ffasma to look casual...she constantly looked like she was about to twitch or jump.
Finally, the ferret stuck a sharp-clawed finger into the lock. It was locked, alright, but this lock was not complicated, either. After all, it was just a ship's lock. She jiggled it open and then opened the door very slowly, slipping through the small opening and into the room. Grinning crazily, Ffasma looked up from under her hood, her eyes shining with a familiar eagerness...
Ah yes...revenge.*
OOC: That was probably god-moding but THAT'S OK!
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Post by Typhoon on Mar 23, 2006 3:54:19 GMT -5
At the first sound of the lock rattling, Typhoon had whirled around, spear in hand and leveled at the door, ready to impale whoever stepped through the door. However, at the sight of Ffasma, the badger let out a cry of despair. The face which he had hoped never to see again had just reappeared, just when he thought he was safe. However, Typh steadied himself. Since the ferret had cornered him, he would have to fight his way out. He charged Ffasma from across the room, a distance of about three metres. Typh, an experience spear fighter, was able to manipulate the spear so that it seemed to come from a dozen direction, all thrusting towards Ffasma. A single spear thrust in one place was hard enough to block, but if twelve thrusts came from twelve different directions...
OOC: Do you have a weapon?
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Post by Ffasma Doomsday on Mar 23, 2006 20:06:18 GMT -5
*Blows rained down around Ffasma, but she was good at dodging. Several knicks and cuts were inflicted upon her, but she did not receive any serious gashes. As she was dodging, Ffasma moved around a bit, stepping and sliding to the side with duck. Finally, the ferret aimed a kick at Typhoon's side.*
OOC: Yep I got a weapon but Ffasma rarely uses it. An' sorry for sucha short post...
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Post by Typhoon on Mar 24, 2006 3:48:44 GMT -5
As Ffasma dodged all his jabs and thrusts, Typhoon began to feel that it would all end here for him. He would never see his hometown or the Horde again, and Ffasma would probably make him go through ALOT of pain before finishing him off. The ferret dodged her way to his side. Typhoon winced she kicked at his ribs. Though his chainmail absorbed most of the shock, the wince was due more to shame than to anything else. He was a badger, a ferretmaid was owning him. Though he had been beaten many times before, this short fight had brought all the painful memories of his past humiliations at the hands of others, 'friend' and foe, to the surface. his eyes turned red, and he bellowed a war cry. Though this WAS a form of the dreaded Bloodwrath, it was not the uncontrollable type. The badger still had access to all his normal mental faculties, and as such, his physical capabilities were greatly enhanced without effecting his thoughts. Typh swung the spear in a arc at Ffasma's waist level, hoping to at least force her to back off.
OOC: Is a controllable form of Bloodwrath even possible? It seems to be a contradiction in terms...
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Post by Ffasma Doomsday on Mar 24, 2006 17:42:12 GMT -5
OOC: Whoa I wasn't gonna KILL Typh...just humiliate him...but h'ok
BIC: *Ffasma ignored the fact that her kick had done nothing. She wasn't out to slay anybody...just humiliate him. The ferretmaid was on extreme alert, aware that she had angered a badger...probably not the best thing to do. At the sound of his warcry, Ffasma knew that she had angered him greatly. She saw the spear coming her way and she attempted to move; she was caught on the side of her cloak, however, and this caused Ffasma to stagger backwards, spinning in almost a complete circle. The ferret gave no sign of being worried however. She simply went back to the badger and began bobbing, ducking, and weaving at top speeds, even though there appeared to be no attacks. She was trying to confuse him, and Ffasma though that maybe because he was so angry he would be confused much more easily...*
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Post by Typhoon on Mar 26, 2006 2:51:34 GMT -5
Typhoon realised something: Ffasma could not hurt him. Not in the actual sense of the word. She didn't even have a weapon. But what she could do, was confuse him until the badger did something stupid, like accidentally hit himself with his spear then fall down or something like that. THEN she would kill him. Now he had seen through her evil plan, Typh could find some way to counter it. The best way to get rid of Ffasma was to call the ship's guard. He would never hit her like by himself. But how to trap her until the ship's guard could arrive? Easy. The answer was to hold the door from the outside. But maybe that would be too much trouble. he did not want the ship's crew to know that the Horde was fighting itself; they might sell this information to pirates, who, taking that as a sign of weakness, would then attack the Horde. No, he would handle Ffasma himself. But first, he needed to get to his weapons crate...
Ignoring Ffasma entirely, Typhoon strode purposefully to the crates in the corner. Holding his spear in one hand, he searched for what he wanted with the other, his back turned to the ferret and his body obstructing Ffasma's view of what he was doing.
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