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 Archer's Bar

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Subject Post 1PostSubject: Archer's Bar   Tue Nov 15, 2016 7:44 pm



"The World Full of Hurt."



Aim and Fire.

And three, and four...

The man breathed in and out, lifting up his crossbow as another hollow reached for him. They had fallen for his bait, and it was time to wipe this forest clean of them. In Germany these days, it was relatively common to find these massive clusters of hollows. The forests here, however, were some of Gift's favorite. Their natural beauty and resilience to the demonic forces which had assaulted this land made the male smile whenever he thought about it.

"And this!" He stated as his body dashed forwards, Hirenkyaku possessing his legs as he shoved the gun straight down the beast's throat. Pulling the trigger, Gift's legs hoisted him into the air, letting him watch as the hollow exploded from the combined reishi now within its body, leaving in the form of streaks of light. These streaks cascaded into nearby trees, where they harmlessly bounced off. Quite strange, considering how they normally worked.

"And things will be peaceful here for a few more weeks..." He muttered, pausing for a moment as he smelt the air. Yes... his body odor was becoming intense.

* * *


On a road near the forest was a quaint little tavern. Not many people visited it, and those who did tended to live on the more dangerous side of the law. The barkeep, however, was an old friend; one of the few that Gift had these days. They had met over a custom fire that had been built in the woods. He had stumbled across Gift's camp, and the two had since bonded over drinks.

Gift didn't care much for humans, but he did not mind that little tavern so much. It was the closest he was willing to really get to human contact, and so he had cut a deal with the barkeep. He kept the nearby area relatively hollow free, and he could get a hot meal whenever he wanted.

After his trip to the lake, he could really use something warm in his belly.

Pushing aside the cloth entrance, he stepped into the tavern. His trademark green cloak covered his body, disguising his archer's raiment. He made noise when he stepped on the wooden floor, and the small fairy-shaped earrings on his head made tinkling noises as he entered. This group knew what that tingling meant. Most of the men here had gone at it with Gift at some point, and while Gift agreed not to use his special 'abilities', his unwillingness to give up had impressed several of the patrons.

"Could I get a couple pieces of chicken?" He asked the barkeep, a small smile appearing on his face. It was a strange sight. The stress of his work had caused small lines to appear beneath his eyes, even despite his unnatural youth. His blonde hair did not stick out as badly here, but it did sharply contrast against his viridian mantle. "And a slab of bread?" He asked eagerly. He was not really used to asking others for things.

Continuing to step into the bar, he heard the rough and tumble folk music being played by the small band. It was something he had tried himself from time to time, and discovered that he quite enjoyed playing a small flute-like instrument that fit close to his mouth, an ocarina. Sometimes he joined in, sometimes he just listened... and then he froze.

His blood seemed to turn to ice as his smile gently faded, his head turning back as a... woman stepped into the bar. She had drawn heads, alright; many of the other patrons had noticed her as well. What had alerted Gift, however, was the unmistakable 'scent' that she was giving off. Quincy...

Gift did not trust Quincies. Gift did not trust much of anyone. He found it easier to survive that way. She had caught him off guard, to be sure. His armguard was still attached, for heaven's sake. After looking her over for a moment, he relaxed, before turning back to his table, trying to act normal. She would likely have noticed him, however. He could not very well hide his presence. He would prefer she did not interact with him; it would make things easier.

So he would keep sitting there, making his presence as difficult to detect as possible... but he still stuck out like a sore thumb, though less here than in most places. "Give me a break..." He muttered to himself, staring at the table.

He hoped that she would not notice Gift Jackson, the Green Archer, and one of the world's most active non-affiliated Quincy.


"I'll Poison that Chaos."



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Subject Post 2PostSubject: Re: Archer's Bar   Tue Nov 15, 2016 9:46 pm


[PLAY POSTING MUSIC]





THE QUINCY PRODIGY

Artist: DSharp - Song: Love Yourself [Violin]


There were very few people who could really say, truly, that they loved what they did. Sofia was among them. While it was certain some of the more unfortunate struggles of the Quincy kept them from realizing their goals any time soon, the musical prodigy simply enjoyed taking the necessary steps to get there. The current incarnation of the Vandenreich would triumph where the versions of the past had failed. Even with significant powerhouses like Yhwach and Hulderic, they lacked purposeful coordination, professionalism, and a calculated and orderly standard of procedures that ensured success. There were many reasons why the Quincy prodigy had been chosen as the Captain of the Vandenreich’s Jagdarmee, formerly known as the Hunting Unit. Her innate power was a testament to the level of position she held. However it was her integrity, her professionalism and devotion to planning, order, and calculated measures that allowed to stand out even further among the rest.

It had also been the reason she had been chosen to lead the mission that sent her out into Germany. Unlike the rest of the races that inhabited the Earth, Quincy had long been on a downhill slope. They had gone through cullings, and a variety of genocides that made their numbers dwindle throughout the years, skirting the notion of extinction ever closer with the passing of time. At the present time, their numbers had reached an all time low. Among them, the few that possessed enough power to cause any kind of noticeable change could be counted with the fingers of a hand. As such, the organization made concrete and noticeable efforts to track and find any and all Quincy still alive. If successful, a talk and in some cases a potential indoctrination would be at hand. With their numbers decreasing, they needed all the help they could get in order to survive, and one day bring about the Quincy Revolution, and the ultimate goal of delivering the Earth back onto Human Hands.

Unfortunately however, most of the efforts to reach out to other Quincy had failed. For the most part, it seemed as though the remaining Quincy were already part of the Vandenreich. Most records with even a hint of beings of spiritual significance led to a dead end. Most had either passed away or had been killed in combat some time prior. There was but one more individual left to seek out. The records didn’t provide a name. They didn’t even offer any real or accurate description of what he would look like. The records simply spoke of an extremely powerful Quincy with an unnatural addiction for nature and green colored garbs. There were also rumors that said Quincy was in some way related to the myth of the ancient Robin Hood.

In of itself, the records didn’t offer much of anything in terms of an specific location. Regardless, it was deemed by the Executive Branch that Sofia was the best option to seek out said individual. If the past incursions had been any indication, the individual would have turned out to have passed away or killed perhaps centuries before. The choice in Sofia was made primarily out of how well she dealt with situations that required a calm and still mind. She thrived in circumstances where her patience and her skills were tested and taxed almost as heavily as her mind. Niflheim was simply too busy with other matters. Toshiko was a young girl about her age that, though skilled, lacked the maturity or patience to allow anything potential useful to come out of meeting someone that may not like the Vandenreich as much as they did. On the off and rare chance the individual was found, the famous Quincy musician was the best chance they had at potentially convincing the unknown archer to join their ranks.

”Dios Mio. What a dump.” She muttered in response to the old and worn look of the nearby tavern.

As usual, whenever she purposely spoke in Spanish, it would cause the remainder of her words to be affected by the thick Spaniard accent she possessed. Frankly it had been a few years ever since she had revisited Europe. Despite having been born in Spain, the demonic incursion after she became of age, prompted her and her family to run and seek refuge from the stigma of the foul reach of the beasts. Upon her return however, she came back a much stronger woman, with convictions built on foundations that were not so easily shook. And, had she encounter the fated being, he too would find it difficult to find fault and weakness in her resolve and her attempts to bring him to her side.

Upon opening the doors, all eyes would be on her, even if just for a very brief moment. It surely wasn’t the first time they had seen a lady, though one would wonder if anyone worthy of that name would enter such shady establishments to begin with. Still, the military uniform style of her clothes was more than enough to cause most eyes to wander off of her figure. A few daring individuals would take quick and intermittent glances at her butt as she passed, trying their best not to get caught in the lecherous behavior. As was common for her lately, her outfit consisted of matching white pants and t-shirt under an opened white jacket. The largely light colored clothes were offset by a blue scarf around her neck, and the contrasting luscious look of her black gloves and boots.

As soon as she made her way into the center of the tavern however, her eyes would become fixated on an individual dressed in a rather large and seemingly worn green garb.


Her eyes would light up momentarily as a smile would quickly follow. It was a feeling of happiness and gratitude. She had imagined it would take her days or even weeks before she could come up against concrete information about the being. Frankly she had no reason to believe the man before her was the one she sought, but the coincidences would be too many. She had already formulated the man likely possessed a kind of cloaking ability that had allowed him to pass unnoticed under the radar for so long. The easiest part would be to find out. She would try the logical best route and ask. But if she felt like he held something back, she would go to any means necessary to ensure he was honest with her.

”A piece of bread, cheese, and a bottle of wine please.”

Her voice seemed soft, feminine and calmed. It almost came off as if she was familiar and rather acquainted with the place and those around her. It couldn’t have been further from the truth. The Quincy prodigy was simply so in tune with the idea of being a nirvana of still and calmed serenity, that it extended to all aspects of her life. From playing the violin, to fighting in a war, to speaking to complete strangers, she believed she had mastered the skill of remaining collected in almost all situations.

”You don’t enjoy cheese and wine?”

Her words were rather odd, but they worked just fine for her excuse to sit right next to the man. He had a plate of bread and chicken, but no wine and no cheese. She wouldn’t be so straightforward as to ask right away, but the questions were incoming. If he indeed was the man she thought him to be, he would have already been aware of her nature, and the power she held bottled inside her rather young and appealing exterior.

”I’m Montero. Sofia Montero,” she said with a soft, soothing, and calming smile as her petite, smooth feeling hand drew closer to him, wanting to shake his hand.




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Subject Post 3PostSubject: Re: Archer's Bar   Tue Nov 15, 2016 10:34 pm



"The World Full of Hurt."



Aim and Fire.

Damnit… don't walk over here, don't walk over here, don't walk over… Internally, the man sighed intensely as her gaze passed over him. He could feel her eyes on him. If you harm this place… The threat did not get a chance to fully formulate in his mind as he noticed her clothes. Seriously…? He thought to himself, flabbergasted.

It was absolutely not the practical kind of thing that an archer would wear. It just seemed impractical to the male. It was this exact kind of pompousness that made him so adverse to the idea of the Quincy organizations in the first place. They wanted much more than simply to defend the planet. They wanted to hold dominion over it, by and large. That got underneath his skin, made it crawl.

Her grace did remind him, however. It reminded him just a bit of how he felt when he entered into his 'Letz Stil'. How he felt at peace with everything around him, how he could feel all of life coursing around him. Everything had its place; life and death held no true say. There was life, and that was enough. There is life, and that is enough. Gift thought to himself, his resolve stiffening bit as he sat up in his chair. He would not sit cowering from this person. This was his space, his territory, a part of his home.

"Cheese is fatty, and slows you down. Tastes great, but still can do things to your stomach and it doesn't keep well. Can't get it hot, either. I'd rather that it be given back to the cows . Help them grow strong." He explained, lifting the chicken to his mouth as his teeth bit into the side, gradually pulling it off before taking it into his mouth, enjoying the flavor. "...Jackson. Gift Jackson." While he might not conform to many societal norms, he would shame his parents if he forgot to use his manners. Even if the person he was talking with made him extremely uncomfortable.

"And as for the wine…" He said, pausing for a moment as he took a long, hard look at her. Slowly, he lifted up one of the hands from beneath the cloak. Each of his fingers possessed a different ring, and one began to light before her eyes. It let off a venomous green… and if she could detect anything about reiatsu traits, she would recognize that one instantly: poison. Drawing the finger to his head, he swiftly drew a ring around his eye…

Thereby, he released. "So which is it?" He asked her, his cloaking released. All around the bar, the patrons shifted uneasily. Gift releasing was never pleasant. After all, the male's body was filled with poisons. It made most individuals uneasy simply being around that influence. In some ways, Gift used it as a judge of character. His poisons acted on biological organs; those who withstood the aura of them tended to have a stronger resolve.

Only then would he reach the hand out, and against her petite, smooth hand, his rough, calloused one would slide. Gripping her up to the wrist, he looked directly into her eyes. His face was still passive, but the green ring around his eye lightly shone. "Are you here to try to kill me, or recruit me?" He asked, finally sliding his hand back from her. He had not done anything offensive except for imply that she may have an ulterior motive for being here. Even the tone of his voice was level as he drew back, gripping the bread before drawing it to his lips.

"Either way, you're not going to get what you came for." He explained to her as his eyes closed, leaning in to take a bite of the bread. "I'm not for sale." He explained, taking another bite out of the bread as her food was brought toe the table. "I can't drink for exactly that reason." He explained, before capturing another bite of chicken in his mouth.

"And let me ask, then. Why don't you eat chicken, Raven -Eyes?" He countered her. While he did feel slightly upset at her presence here, still… he could not deny that she definitely seemed to have something about her that was different from most of them. The characteristic arrogance of most of the agents that these Quincy groups sent was one that exuded the idea that they were dominant. This woman, on the other hand, gave him a bit of pause.

He still chose to take her hand, after all. Ordinarily, he would have broken three or four of her fingers in that moment, before tossing her towards the door. He was even remaining relatively civil. He was supposed to be nice to girls, granted… but still. She seemed to be more together than the rest, and seemed to have another rare trait… empathy. The way she seemed to be comfortable, even when faced with a man like him…

Well, he would see how she reacted to him removing his cloaking. If she still maintained that demeanor, he might listen to what she had to say.


"I'll Poison that Chaos."



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Subject Post 4PostSubject: Re: Archer's Bar   Wed Nov 16, 2016 12:46 pm


[PLAY POSTING MUSIC]





THE QUINCY PRODIGY

Artist: Daniel Yang - Song: All of Me [Violin]


The man had an odd view of cheese. A rather interesting, yet surprisingly odd view of such a culinary delicacy. She supposed he wasn’t particularly wrong in any of his assertions however. Still, one would think that for the sake of enjoying food, necessary gambles would be made. A potentially upset stomach, however rare and unfortunate the scenario, would have been well worth the culinary joy of tasting the soft, creamy texture of a well aged cheese. Despite his rather monotonic view of food, their function and shortcomings, she didn’t fault him. Sofia possessed a similar view in aspects beyond those of culinary affairs. She was an individual who thrived under pressure, and in the face of adversity. The Quincy did not falter under the watchful eye or presence of stronger beings or forces, and had taught herself to remain calm even in situations where her life hung by a thread. She enjoyed figuring her way out of tough situations and creating calculated and thoughtful plans to better her position, and the standing of her organization. As such, though she disagreed with his view of cheese, she could emphatic and understanding of his reasoning to view certain things as he did.

”Gift eh?”

The name didn’t ring a well, and it shouldn’t have. There were no records indicating an specific name for the man she sought. She had to admit however the name was rather odd. It was the first time she had ever met anyone called Gift. Whether out of a potentially fated coincidence or pure humor, it was amusing his name was indicative of what he hoped he would become, both to her and the Vandenreich.

Grin when he does the poison thing and reveals his reiatsu. Insert image. Talk about not being afraid. Records said he was strong. If she was scared she wouldn't have gone. If dying kept her she would send other person. She was there. She was happy for the future of the quincy. And tho his energy was strong, the heft of its weight only helped to excite her, as a masochist tho she is far from it. Say you were trying for joining, unless the other becomes option.

When he mentioned the wine and lifted his finger, displaying the seemingly venomous nature of one of his skills, the Quincy prodigy couldn’t help but smile with amusement, and a sense of self gratitude that almost bordered on excitement.


”Which is it? I was hoping for the nicer option.”

Though the weight of his spiritual existence was heavy, it did little more than create a smile on her. It was almost as if she had the slightest of masochistic tendencies, even though that had never been shown to be true to any extent at any point yet. It was her resolve, her goals, and her own astounding power that allowed her to remain composed and collected, displaying the serene grace that was so typical of hers. She had managed to remain calm and still before, and even during situations where death seemed not only possible but also imminent. A mild action, loosely described as a threat from a homeless looking Quincy would have done little more than amuse her. The amusement however stemmed not out of the look of his old and worn out fashion style, but rather out of the potential benefit that would come from having his own unique set of skills added to the Vandenreich. To be honest, power and strength mattered very little as far as she was concerned. People like Hulderic and the Sternritter of old possessed power that was near unmeasurable. Their power however had been one of their own self gratuitous downfalls. They were so compelled to reach for more power in the sake of their own glorious vanity, that they failed to see the bigger picture, and work together, orderly to advance the Quincy plight. She needed people that could be resourceful and that had unique abilities, much like the Elect and herself. She didn’t need a baboon that had power for the sake of being powerful. If her hunch was correct, she hoped Gift would have what it took to impress her with something else other than a powerful spiritual pressure.

”I have no intention to buy. It's merely a request. But from the looks of it, you already seem to know what I want, yet somehow, you’re opposed to it.” Shaking her head, she would smile once again, with a smile that was in stark contrast to the ones she had displayed earlier. It didn’t stem out of happiness but rather out of shocking and disappointed disbelief.

”I’m bored of chicken.”

The words would be swift, cold, and spoken without real intent or feeling behind them. In fact, had they possessed any power, they would have surely been able to slice through even the most powerful of mental defenses. As soon as she had been brought the bread, the cheese, and the wine, she would push it to the side, clearing the area before her. The request had been made solely to sit next to him. She had no intention to eat, let alone drink. With the wealth her family possessed and with the power and authority reach the Vandenreich had, there was hardly a food she could wish for that she could not easily attain. Items of vanity, culinary delights, and misconstrued ideas about the spiritual world had all but bored her. There were very little things left that still piqued her curiosity and kickstarted her interest. Most had to do with the pursue and creation of art, either on the musical stage or within the battlefield. The Quincy plight, and their goals however had always been driving factors to push her to continue to do as she did.

”Guess I’ll be a bit more forward. I need you to help your race.”

He should have been well aware of what was wrong with the world. There were a plethora of creatures that caused destruction and pain throughout the Earth and onto Humanity. Demons, Hollows, Shinigami, among many others. The Earth belonged to the Humans: that was the core idea and principle that had been instilled in Sofia since she was young. She believed the Quincy were a form of Human evolution, dictated by the right arm of the Soul King who ruled over the very concept of evolution. The Earth had been subjugated and crowded by beings who reeked of dark and depraved intents. And it was a Quincy’s duty to deliver it back onto Human hands. Because of her affiliation, she hoped he understood her view despite the subtle differences with the ideals the Quincy of old possessed. If she needed to however, she would explain it further.

“Let me make one thing clear for you.” As she spoke, she turned her head some, the bones on the back of her neck making popping sounds as she ready to be honest, once more, about the ideas she had on her mind.

”I will not beg. And you’re a coward. Hiding away, using your powers to remain hidden and away from responsibility. I don’t fear you, I pity you.”

”Don’t waste my time.” As she spoke, just like the last time, the words were spoken with disdain, and a feeling that seemed like a rather stark ultimatum.

”Upset for what I said? What? Can’t take the truth? What are you gonna do, kill me? Go ahead. Run like you always have. Go run and hide from your responsibilities, then blame others for the actions they make when they don’t fit your own views. Go! Run. Waste the remainder of your own pathetic life away in a hole, in a forest. Amass vast power that’s useless for anything but show. You don’t scare me. For once try to use your pitiful excuse for anger to drive forward to something other than your own pathetic excuses to stow away, blaming the rest of the world for your failures and inability to act, and make an actual change on things that truly matter.

That’s all she would say to him. Right after, she would pop the cork on the wine bottle and take a long drink from it. It was unlike her to drink, but the situation called for it. If he did not move, and did not speak, he would witness her walking out, and into the grassy field. He could be free to pursue or follow her, away from prying eyes. However, had he chosen to speak or act in a completely different manner, she would stay, listen, and respond accordingly.



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Subject Post 5PostSubject: Re: Archer's Bar   Wed Nov 16, 2016 2:33 pm



"The World Full of Hurt."



Aim and Fire.

"That's right." He told her in reply, closing one eye as he observed her body language. She seemed to respond unusually to the release of his cloaking. He wondered what she had to have gone through for her to smile like that. It was a bit like the others who had attempted to recruit him, before things got ugly.

Things got ugly far too frequently.

"Of course I am." He replied to her statement, looking at the woman across the table. Her sudden change of tone was a bit unexpected, and it did catch Gift a bit off guard. It sounded accusatory… and he could feel his temperament beginning to wane a bit. He watched as she moved the dishes aside. Of course. All the same. He thought to himself as his eyes narrowed a bit. Here comes the Zealotry.

He thought to himself, his hands meeting in front of him on the table as he moved his food to the side as well. Dinner was officially spoiled, it seemed. "…" However, the way that she talked made him decide that he would wait until she was finished speaking before he responded.

"A coward, hmm?" He asked her, pushing his legs against the table as he tipped his chair back a bit, letting him meet her gaze evenly. "I'm not the one who closes his ears to nature and yells out that he doesn't care." He countered, his expression dark. If she wanted to fight with tongue lashings, than she would face someone who had been set in his ways for perhaps too long.

…Maybe. He paused, looking at her as she finished speaking. "I try to avoid killing humans. They might ravish this planet of ours, but they are still a part of it." He said at last, letting his chair slowly tip down again. "I am Free. I get to choose what I do and where I go." He countered her.

It was true. Gift Jackson enjoyed his freedom. But she was wrong about something. "I act every day. You're right. It's not by your standards. It's by mine. That's something your 'group' has never understood. You all were massacred from the actions of a single leader. You think I want any part of that? If I were a member, I would undoubtedly be dead now, and this little tavern would have been erased by these beasts."

Gift was breathing a bit hard now, though he was still looking across the table from her. But at the same time, there was one point she had right. He kept her gaze like that, watching her drink. He seemed to be thinking about what to say next, taking deep breaths as he did so.

"But. I'm getting old."

He said, his eyes slightly closing. Thoughts of his parents came back to him, before opening his eyes once again. "And you're right about one thing. I have run from those like me. I'm still pretty sure your little group killed my parents." There, it was on the table. If she was the one trying to recruit with him, then she would have to deal with the history of her organization.

"If you believe that Gift Jackson has a place in your organization, then you are going to have to deal with me the same as I'm having to deal with you interrupting my meal after a hard day of work." He told her, his temper starting to rise again. "I ask this of every single one of you. So here you go:"

"Will you personally help hunt me down if I break another member for choosing to truly harm our environment?"

If she replied with just about anything but a resolute 'Yes' to that question, he would likely consider her offer. However, if she couldn't handle who he was as a person, then they might as well stop this conversation right now. If she thought that it was perfectly alright for members of her organization to break this planet that the 'humans' were supposed to be in control of, then there would never be understanding between the two. If she was able to accept, even the slightest bit, that the maintenance of their planet had worth…

Then he would get up himself and walk towards the door so that the two of them could continue this conversation outside.


"I'll Poison that Chaos."



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Subject Post 6PostSubject: Re: Archer's Bar   Tue Nov 22, 2016 1:04 pm


[PLAY POSTING MUSIC]





THE QUINCY PRODIGY

Artist: N/A - Song: N/A


His words would not fall into deaf ears, at least not the ones that mattered. Despite her youth and seeming inexperience compared to people like the elect and Gift himself, Sofia was renowned as a prodigy for much more than her musical talent. She often displayed a calm and collected demeanor that was professional and thought out, and indicative of someone much older than her. Some of the more rather tactful comments of the so-called Quincy would do little to irritate her. While it didn’t take much to set her off, it was rather difficult to upset her if she was willingly trying to avoid reaching such a circumstance. While she could understand his plight, that didn’t mean she shared it nor agreed with it. The Quincy prodigy had her own goals and her own plight. It was the goals of the Montero family, of the Quincy, and the ones she had made to become her own as well.

Still, it seemed comical and almost silly she was having this conversation with such an old Quincy. One would think that after about a millennia of living, certain beings would develop a more attuned and comprehensive view of the way around them. However, lately, Sofia had discovered that age was definitely not a ruling factor in either the maturity or the complexity and accuracy of thought processes as it involved the world around them. Most often, she found herself helping, coaching, and guiding people that were well beyond her age when she expected it to be the other way around. Certain people were simply so misguided. They had misconstrued their own beliefs and goals, and stuck to a very finite idea of what they wanted and what they loved. They shun out certain aspects of their own selves. They blamed and punished their own race for the mistakes and misfortunes of members of it, and placed them at a lower level than simple items of creations not even worthy of being placed anywhere near their kind. It was pitiful really.

”You know what needs to be done. You may strong, but you’re not that strong.”

He must have been aware of it already. He was far from being anywhere near the strongest being in the verse. Sure, on his own, he could potentially push back the damage that could come to his beloved nature. But eventually, either through an amalgam of beings or through one truly powerful entity, he would be powerless against the forces they possessed. And even if he fought till his very last breath, he would simply die a coward’s death, leaving behind a memory that would swiftly be destroyed upon his passing. Truly a sad way of living.

”Humans are weaker. There’s no point in denying Quincy are a form of evolution. There are bad eggs in every nest, but by choosing to remain astray from our plight, you’re only damaging your legacy and the world around you.”

It was true. He was gonna make no difference in the world. No one was gonna remember the lone ranger, protector of the forest. The forest would die sooner or later by someone’s hand with a much stronger grip and power than his. He would likely be spoken of for standing up against certain mighty forces, but the tale would quickly fade into the shadows against the might and legacy of truly important actions, and truly important percents. It stood to reason, that if he wanted to make change in the world, he would join a larger organization that had a better chance at doing so. It stood to reason that if he didn’t like the way certain things were handled in such an organization, that he would join and use his power and communication as a form of way to direct their actions. It stood to reason that he would act for something other than himself, and actually make changes that mattered in a grander scale.

Gift was, in a way, like a large and strong hand over an open water faucet. Sure, he could stop the flow of water, though it was only temporary. The faucet had no limited durability or will. On the other hand, the ancient Quincy surely did. At some point, he was more likely to give out. With more people, capable of performing actions together beyond the act of covering something, he could help just literally close the faucet, and avoid the torrent of water. He could potentially avoid some of the potential destruction that was soon to come if he allied with his own kind. In the end, he didn’t have to agree with the Vandenreich in everything they did. Sofia surely didn’t. Her view was much more radical. Regardless, she went ahead with that the elect and the executive branch decided. Of course that didn’t mean she would not act and base her actions in her own beliefs however. She made purposeful and noticeable attempts to allow her thoughts and her motives shine through to effect change in the areas she wished, and in the way she wanted. Gift could do the same, in his own rather peculiar way.

Taking an extra long swish from the wine bottle at her side, she would look astray and draw a hefty breath.

”I didn’t kill them.”

While she could understand his distaste, simply put, he needed to get his head straight. He wasn’t the only one that had lost people. In the kind of world they lived in, most people had lost a lot, and many much more than he had. Some had lost loved ones to the Quincy, some to the Demons, and some to completely different creatures. The notion stood however, Sofia had not struck down his parents. While she agreed with a lot of the ideals of the Quincy of old she wasn’t them. While she liked and disliked several aspects about the ancient Quincy Emperor, she wasn’t him. It would be a mistake to group the new Vandenreich with the members of old just because they shared the same name. If he truly cared about making a change, he would join his kind and try to change the way they operated to be more positive. Living in the shadows, fighting a losing cause and spending another millenia sulking would do nothing more than continue to waste his life away as he had done for the last several centuries.


”Let me make something clear. I don’t really care about the forest or nature for that matter as much as you do. Quincy come first. If you’re joining, do it out of your own terms and because of your own will. I’m not here to beg, and if you’re joining of ill or unwanted intent, just save us time and stay here doing whatever you do.”

The Quincy prodigy wasn’t trying to come off as mean. She was simply trying to be straightforward to avoid any misunderstanding. Sure, she wanted him on her team. But, it would be a huge mistake to think she would ever value the forest or nature nearly as much as she did the lives of her kind. Sure she cared for the world around her. It made sense. One needed to look after their home if they wanted to live somewhere. One needed to look after their vehicle if its use was necessary to get somewhere. But to value it over the lives of her family and those precious to her? He would be mistaken to believe such notion would ever even come close to being possible.

[b]”I will uphold the law, and make sure things are followed in ways that are adequate, safe, and stipulated. That’s my job.”


She would not allow blatant misuse of power that led to destruction for the sake of destruction. The Earth was their home, and to reclaim it meant they intended to live within it. However, Gift should not make the mistake of targeting his own kind for the potential collateral damage that could come from violent encounters. If he did so, he would be pursued to the full extent of her capabilities. If that was his intent, then just as she had said earlier, then perhaps it would be best if he simply stayed clear of their path. Otherwise, he had a place, friends, and a new family in her and her companions.

”What’s it gonna be?”



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Subject Post 7PostSubject: Re: Archer's Bar   Wed Dec 28, 2016 8:57 pm



"Time On the Throne is Running Out."



Aim and Fire.

The green-garbed archer gazed into his glass as she replied to his comment. ”… Hmm.” Was all that he said in reply. It did not seem as if him saying what he truly thought in response to that comment would achieve anything at this point.

”My legacy, hmm?” He asked, chuckling for a moment at that comment. ”Haven’t got any, I’m afraid.” He muttered, glancing over at her. That was true enough. Gift truly had little experience in reproduction itself, and his legend really only mattered to one person: himself.

”That’s certainly true. At the same time, though, we can’t exactly drift away from what made us this way.” He added on, his eyes tracing the wood of the walls of the tavern. Quite frankly, this was what kept him comfortable, what made him feel like he was making a difference. While all those organizations tried to wrest control and power and politics… he could move on his own. It certainly had its own advantages, and he believed that it allowed for him to do things that he would completely be unable to otherwise. Still…

He could not help but remember the battle against that demon whose leg he took with his arrows. The demon who had leveled everything around it… the demon who he had been unable to kill. There were certainly things which he was unable to complete by himself.

”Then perhaps we have something to talk about after all.” He replied, his garb covering his limbs. And then she said the thing which would possibly allow for him to become employed by their little group, to become involved in this organization of theirs. ”…Well then, thank you for that.”

He said, and for the first time so far, he smiled at her words. The next thing she said caused for him to pause, blinking at her a bit. Well, it seemed that she had a bit of bite towards the idea, still. With the addition of the words Safe, adequate, and stipulated, he paused to mull her words in his head. Gift knew the kind of man that he was. He knew what was precious to him. If the individuals that he would be working with could have the sensitivity to know what would trigger his wrath, then there would be no problems whatsoever. Just as a homeowner would be furious if his home was burned to the ground, so too would Gift be upset if that which he cared about was harmed. It was a connection that the male regarded as both simple and deep.

”Very well then. Perhaps the times have changed. The mannerisms which you display are certainly different enough for me to consider.” He said, standing in the clearing in front of her. ”I shall become more familiar with the Vandenreich, though how familiar will depend on you from this point forwards, I suppose. You are the one attempting to recruit me, after all… ambitious but not zealous in the manner of those who came before you. Well then… what do I need to do?” He asked, the smile on his face gone now, replaced by a rather sullen look, serious... though not necessarily sad.

Perhaps even a bit expectant.


"I'll Poison that Chaos."




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