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Post by CallMeAst♥ on Sept 25, 2015 23:55:54 GMT
Havia nearly bumped into Blacksunder when he verbally pursued the skeleton, whom she didn't catch the name of. Havia slowly began to back up from the pair, already planning her escape. Maybe I an jump over the the of the ship, and crawl back on to make them think I drowned... Havia thought. Or maybe go hide in general..
As the conversation continued, the mentioning of two other pirates worried Havia. She didn't have this 'Knotch' to worry about, but two other potential enemies by the names of Cole and Mr. Brunnin. But what alarmed her was his fairly decent deal to hand her over. Havia's eyes widened, which she took a few steps back, and turn to run. Get to the main deck. Havia thought. Then I can think of something..
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Post by Krovennan (Quaketread) on Sept 30, 2015 0:02:21 GMT
Blacksunder's axe came down, impacting the floor directly behind Havia before she could finish her plans to run, a clear sign that the Captain has no intention of just letting her leave.
"You stay right where you are. you've been too much bother to slink away that easily missy, and I have no desire to chase you across this ship. Now as for the corpse, your freaks won't save you once the Madam has gotten warmed up, and as far as your age goes, I put myself squarely on the side of not giving a damn if you're 15 or 50. You're in my way, and that's a dangerous place to be."
As he said this, Blacksunder raised his axe again, swinging it in a wide arc at Knoch, aimed directly for his spinal cord and ribcage, aiming to shatter it and cripple the skeleton's ability to fight back. Above deck, the crew had already taken cottrol of the swivel guns, taking precision shots at the crew on the Dutchman, avoiding a firing line in order to nullify the Dutchman's firework weapon, a few shots aiming square for the bearer of said weapon with frightening speed.
With no threat on the far side of the ship, the crew of those guns were focused on repelling the boarders, drawing swords and surrounding the boarders, flanking them from multiple angles to overwhelm them with multiple angles of attack as they frantically cut at the skeletal boarders. Beside Blacksunder, the banging and screaming suddenly stopped, going eerily silent, only the faintest of mumbling being heard if one were to listen closely, sounding vaguely of some form of tribal chanting.
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Shatterbeam
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Could be messier.
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Post by Shatterbeam on Sept 30, 2015 0:39:00 GMT
A tired figure rose up, dizzied. A keen mind quickly steadied itself, and this was no exception. Thomas, officially back from the land o' the damned, and in nary a better place, took up a musket, attaching an iron bayonet and taking stride towards his captain.
You'll sooner be dead than alone. Remember that, and brace yourself.
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Post by Taggon on Sept 30, 2015 14:33:38 GMT
((There you go Krove.))
The Flying Duchman thus began to take damage, it's crew members and deck beginning to be pummeled by the blasts from the enemy canons on the top floors of the Larger vessel. CanonBall Joe continued to keep the broadside shots that made it into sight neutralized, firing repeatedly his fire-work display, demolishing most of the broadside shots that came, the ones which made it pounded at the Duman's own side, the three-inch thick layer of steel on the inner part of the Dutchman being put to a test once more, starting to be punched through. Minor damage, but damage nonetheless, though the persistent attack on crew members and around the areas of the ship to prevent further upper deck activity became more of a nuisance than what Davy Jones had thought it would be. Sailors who weren't beginning to splinter did set up smoke globes, a device which had a small match to it, and could be lit and thrown at a distance, and then explode into thick cloud of smoke, providing temporary cover and uncertainty perhaps as the Dutchman began to move farther from the enemy frigate on the First Mate's command.
The small raid was coming to a close, the damage on the other ship had been done, reducing the crew member count on the dutchman by seven, and increasing by the repeating line of fire as the Duthcman retreated slowly--as to fall back into the mist from whence it came.
--
Cole and his team of pirates had already been at the slaughter for a little while, and in battle, much could be done in such a time. eleven to twelve men were killed by the fierce some three, additionally the second team had eliminated two or three less than that number, taking sending at least a third of the crew (twenty to twenty one to twenty two) men to the locker. Since a Man'o' war could hold a maximum fifty men, this tax on men could be costly, though the other thirty (subtracted from the amount on the roof) that came in to swarm Cole's groups of fleshy crew succeeded in downing one of Davy Jones's crew. This member stepped in front of his allies, and charged at three of the firing men, soaking in their shots painfully as his bones splintered, (particularly his ribs) as he unleashed his own flurry of bullets upon those three, aiming for their heads before his spine started to shatter a bit, cracking badly.
Cole himself received a few nasty shots and slices, and in quick attempt to prevent more from occurring, whirled his two cleavers on their broadsides, applying them as a temporary shield to holdoff any more incoming bullets for himself, as another crew member shot his own pistol heartily at the other crew mates, getting ticked off at his own bones that began to break, such as his femur and shoulder blades.
"WE RETREAT ON MY SIGNAL, THE OL' FASHION WAY!" Cole shouted, which could have been heard through the whole of the entire ship. The fellow had been raised (before he 'died') to speak up when he talked, and he was perpetually invoking this rule upon his every syllable. The Skeleton would retract his blades before using them both to slice into the chests of more men--
~
Mr. Brunnin had different tactics. Instead of charging right into the enemy lines, he instructed his men to retreat to a hall where doorways were, where he could properly set up an adequate choke point, letting his enemies run right into his fits or own team's line of fire. Due to the other fleshy crew's ranged weapons men, bones did indeed crack, making the small retreat more hastened, as Brunnin and his duel pistol firing members returned fire and fists to the lines of the enemy, repeating their previous strategy of Brunnin hitting from below and others hitting high before and after they were at their choke points. Receiving damage, but dealing it and using their enemies bodies to be a shield to the line of fire. Through pained grunts and groans form the skeleton warriors, they slow retreated, each group still nibbling at the numbers of approximately fifteen or so crew men each (if each squad were dealing with the equal number), however they would still be peeled back--fifteen men was still fifteen or so men. Plus one of Brunnin's mates were beginning to falter...
--
"-Your freaks won't save you once the Madam has gotten warmed up, and as far as your age goes, I put myself squarely on the side of not giving a damn if you're 15 or 50. You're in my way, and that's a dangerous place to be."
The captain of the ship had said, amid the roaring of bullet fire and such, though it summered down (despite Cole's shout) the murmuring of chanting was not unsettling to Knoch. he just glanced at the direction from when it came, shrugging at the Captain's cussing. The axe thus came from above to slice down on the skeleton, who muttered his own little cuss word before diving to the side of the captain nimbly, fitting in a tight roll before ending up in a squatting position, letting the captain's axe cut into the wood. Once more. The skeleton just putted at the Captain, not bothering to stab at the back of the man as he held his ground--he was right where he wanted to be.
"I'd be curious tuh see if that statement's true, Captain. I've seen scary things in my days. A fleshy cur is not about to make my teeth get uh' clatterin'."
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Post by CallMeAst♥ on Oct 9, 2015 1:31:50 GMT
((Sorry >.< I had life problems XD ))
As the duel between Captain Blacksunder and the skeleton commenced, Havia eyed her dagger, which was still on the ground. The only problem was, it was near the skeleton's set of bone feet. The dagger was her only good close combat ranged knife. the rest were throwing knives. Havia, get your head out of your butt, your on your own now. Havia thought. Your practically useless standing her whimpering.
Alas, Havia didn't stop to think.
As the skeleton dove to the side, Havia ducked and rolled to grab her dagger, which was out of harm's way for a few seconds. Then, with a short and slightly swift pop to her feet, Havia had the knife in her hand. Havia's knuckle was white, uttering a small hint that her grip was tight.
Silently, she instantly noticed a flaw in her defense plan. She was BEHIND the enemy. Scrap.
Havia darted her head down the hallway, noticing it to be dark and gloomy. Her only chance to actually get away. Run. Just Run. Havia thought. And get the hell off this ship.
And with her flawed plan enabled, Havia turned and ran.
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Post by Krovennan (Quaketread) on Oct 14, 2015 21:40:13 GMT
Blacksunder cursed as he heard the sound of Havia running off. Damn woman was gonna get herself killed at this rate, but he had to deal with this skeleton before he could go after her, he only needed to give her a little more time...
Wrenching his axe out of the wood, Blacksunder brought it around again, swinging in a horizontal arc towards Knoch, keeping one hand free should he roll just the right way this time. The axe's heavy blades whistled through the air as it aimed straight for Knoch's ribcage.
Down below, the crew had backed off from the other lieutenants. Deciding to cut their losses with low-yield grenades. Not enough to severely damage the Bell, but enough to devastate the bare skeletons facing them. Keeping a safe distance from the enemy, firing over and over into them to keep them at bay and in range of the explosive devices.
Above deck, the smoke obscured the crew's vision of the Dutchman, but this was a double-edged sword, now the defenders of the Dutchman couldn't see them. Seeing an opportunity, orders were brought down to load as normal, but then only two cannon shots were fired to start. To those on the ship, it would seem like another broadside, and they wouldn't see it wasn't until they were already firing their strange weaponry, wasting the shot. Once the decoy rounds had been fired, the rest of the broadside followed immediately after, sending walls of cannon fire into the mist in the general direction of the Dutchman.
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Post by Taggon on Oct 28, 2015 1:40:43 GMT
As the Flying Dutchman retreated, and additional canon fire was anticipated, Captain Davy Jones simply smoked his pipe, still at the helm, calm and without too much of a change in attitude from where he stood. He knew turning his ships back to the Sea-Cow had been something that would get him fired at, and they were in range, so they would of course receive fire. However, fire as the Sea-Cow would, it had lost roughly half it's population, plus the majority of the remaining crew were fending off the suads of crew members Davy Jones had sent, thus tasking only a small handful of sailors with firing upon the Flying Dutchman. The Sea-Cow was deadly, but slow, and evidently it's crew members were too. Before the few shots (around ten or so) would sound, Davy Jones would let more smoke escape his jaw before muttering,
"Mr. Joe," Upon his name The crew members turned, "Cover, if you will."
"Aye, Cap'n." The sailor obeyed his captain, rushing the the end of the ship, and launching another round of a fire-work like round, Spraying the air behind the Dutchman with smoke and fire, causing the some of the rounds approaching the cruiser to explode prematurely, however, four made it into the Dutchmans back, and hence exploded, causing more damage, and more wood to shatter. Like the enemy, the boat could still move, though perhaps not as progressively. But with a little help from black magic, maybe the Dutchman could fly instead. That would have been the case if Davy Jones was into that sort of thing. The ship continued to sail off, now getting out of range of the deranged and cracking Sea-Cow. Further damage to theFlying Dutchman would have caused extremely crippling problems, but for now, they'd sail away until they could repair.
--
Mr. Bunnin found himself surrounded by the remaining standing members, who launched grenades, and shot rifles, his thick bones would crack some, but hold with the bullets, before he signaled his men to retreat up to the top of the ship. Bruin's arm was getting battered, and though they returned their own pistol and rifle fire, for the heads of the mean, the Skeletons were forced into retreat. They rushed up the opposite entrance of the hall which they had set up their choke point, they had killed an extra three or so men before starting to go, taking great difficulty in running off, heading to above deck, which was practically not occupied. It would not take much more effort (from the taxed skeletons) to support themselves and then howl their way into the waters, splashing and then sinking into the depths, beginning a pained swim back to their ship.
--
Knoch just watched with small amusement as the captain lodged his axe would of the shattering wood, and the crew member just took a few steps backward as the captain did so, then raised his axe. Knoch had been getting prideful, and confident in his stride, as the captain brought the axe down once more to hit Knoch, the crew member made his move: He brought back his arm, and then with a mighty ship, hit the broadside of the axes blue with the end of his sword hilt. The intention was to send the blade off course, and that was what it did--almost. The axe, rather than going into his ribcage, sliced with through Knoched lower half arm. The fore-arm was sent clattering to the ground, were Knoch eyed it unhappily. Knoch winced at the loss of his appendage, but he was still where he needed to be--he could retreat right down the hall the girl had decided to go. After Sheathing his sword, Knoch was quick to grab his arm, and then dash off after her, in a fast sprint that would leave the captain the option of shooting at him or chasing him.
--
Meanwhile, Cole's team had received bad damage, but had returned the most counter-strikes with their own pistols, while Cole had down his best to use the broadsides of his cleavers to give cover for his two mates to jump out of the ship. How? Where a canon stood, they cut loose a cannon, and then used their own grenade and remaining shots to widen the whole in order to dive out. No Cole was the only one left, Arms beginning to loosen from their sockets, despite the small number of sailers firing. Their persistence was what could kill though. Cole knew he'd receive too much damage if he was going to try to jump through the hole, so the Skeleton simply went back through the way he had come, his legs a blur, before he dived through the deck's entrance. Scrambling to his feet, the injured skeleton slammed the door shut, putting the heavy-bar entrance to it, then scooting to the side of it.
A Strangely enough, it was now that a young, slim human girl came into the room, looking like she was in a hurry.
"HEY THERE!" Cole shouted at her, holding out one of his own grenades. It wasn't lit, but he was ready to light it. Then from behind her, the sound of heavy footsteps sounded--another pair of hollow eyes was coming from behind her: Knoch.
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Post by CallMeAst♥ on Oct 29, 2015 0:51:03 GMT
Havia halted in her tracks, immediately noticing the skeleton enter the decks and turn around. Havia freaked out when he held the grenade, gesturing that he'd light it. Instead of attacking, or even showing a sense of anger, Havia silently brought a finger to her lips and patting it softly, gesturing to stay quiet. By now, she had hidden her dagger and began to back away.
"Just leave- me- alone." She said slowly, her voice nearly cracking as she whispered. Just go back to your coffins or whatever, I've seen to many talking skeletons for one day. She wanted to boast.
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Post by Krovennan (Quaketread) on Nov 2, 2015 23:31:39 GMT
Blacksunder swung at Knoch, just missing the creature's spine as he chased after Havia. Blacksunder knew his Dragon was useless, it'd likely pass through the ribs and hit Havia. Chasing him wasn't an option either. Taking the pommel of his axe's shaft, Blacksunder slammed at the door three times. A faint whispering, the words unintelligible, rang in everyone's ears (or in Knoch's case, where his ears used to be). The door creaked open as a woman stepped out, dressed in ragged clothes, her dark hair wild and unkempt, shadowing her face from view, but not her wicked grin.
Reaching to Knoch, the woman manipulated the magic keeping Knoch alive and moving, the whispering growing louder as she reached out with her own power to immobilize the skeleton and drag him back to her through the air. As she spoke, a second voice rang out, deep and menacing, just loud enough to be heard.
"You have no power with me creature. None of you have power on this ship."
Beside her, Blacksunder watched, seemingly unfazed at the power before him.
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Post by Taggon on Nov 6, 2015 1:06:15 GMT
The voodoo lady would be messing with practically a force of nature, and it would take her much concentration, considering the skeleton wasn't just any demon from the past. He was a part of the crew of the Flying Dutchman, the magic that held him together was powerful, the castors were this e whose names were just unspeakably powerful in the first case. However. The voodoo ladies endeavors would cause Knoch to pause, slowly creaking to a halt. Knoch would furrow what he had left of a brow, before glancing back with one of his hollow, white eyes. He would not be pulled back immediately towards them, but rather, thanks to the power that kept him alive, the voodoo lady would require more concentration to start pulling him backwards--faster. He would be inching backing wards, veers gradually, looking quite confused.
"What---in the name of--" Knoch's words would start to turn into creaks of ancient joints.
--
Cole was unimpressed by the young girls words. Plus, why the heck was she whispering? She pulled out a knife, but Cole couldn't have cared less. His focus quickly turned to Knoch, who was being dragged backwards. Cole gawked, stepping forward, though it would seem he was getting closer to Havia, while Knoch just slightly shook his head, looking somewhat desperately at Havia. Cole had no idea what was with this guy, but he saw that whatever was getting at Knoch, Knoch wanted him to get the girl. Kidnapping over saving a crew members life?
"OKAY!" Cole shouted, before suddenly grabbing at Havia, attempting to lock his arm around her neck, before he threw his grenade at the hole in the wall, of which had been lighted on the side of Cole's leg. The grenade would explode, and whether or not Cole was successful in locking his arm around the girl, he would dive for the sea--which looked surprisingly uninviting. As he jumped, he noticed some patterns that only the insane would notice, and secretly, he wished he hadn't jumped.
"DEMON WATER!" The skeleton shouted, before he would splash head first in. If he was successful in capturing Havia, then he would thus grab her around the arm with on arm, and then dive down deep, swimming at a surprising speed for someone who didn't have much skin, and a slightly injured leg and ribcage.
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Post by CallMeAst♥ on Nov 7, 2015 1:15:21 GMT
Havia had raised her dagger up to defend herself, in hopes of warding off the skeleton. But she had been no match for Cole, who'd swiftly grabbed her by the neck and hoisted her through a hole in the hull of the ship. Havia didn't know to either take some air in, or to scream. But it would not matter, which a split second later, the water met her dry skin. No, no, not the water.. She thought. Suddenly, a strange feeling in her chest, throat, and neck emerged, she feeling the it happen again.
Suddenly, rather than chocking on water, Havia inhaled water without struggle, alarm filling her eyes. No, I've got to get out of here! She thought. Using her free hand, Havia used her free hand to crasp Cole's wrist, squeezing hard. Unlike her previous struggles against Krovennan, Havia's grip was stronger, bonecrushing.
It was a curse, she'd like to think of. One that she'd had since she was a child. Her father had kept it a secret, since he found out when she was less than three years old. That was the same time her mother died, which she'd drowned while making her regular fishing trips. Aquanex, that's what her father liked to call it.
Havia could already feel her fish gills opening up on the sides of her neck, and her eyes burning with an luminous gold. Everything around her was already growing more keen, her peripheral vision enhancing by the minute. I can still get away, if I can outrun this skeleton.. she thought.
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Astrinal
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Lucifer the Site mom, soccer mom, and the chat cat
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Post by Astrinal on May 13, 2016 13:05:12 GMT
(( does anybody want to revamp this?)
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Shatterbeam
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Could be messier.
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Post by Shatterbeam on May 13, 2016 13:42:26 GMT
((I doooo. But I think it's Sy's turn.))
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Astrinal
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Lucifer the Site mom, soccer mom, and the chat cat
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Post by Astrinal on May 13, 2016 14:10:11 GMT
(( I was merely gonna start the rp over. I think this all started like 'wtf' XD ))
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Astrinal
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Lucifer the Site mom, soccer mom, and the chat cat
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Post by Astrinal on May 13, 2016 18:26:14 GMT
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