Adel
Villain
Hoc est SPARTA.
Posts: 207
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Post by Adel on Aug 31, 2008 2:04:42 GMT -5
“This is outrageous!” Adel howled at nobody in particular.
It had been nearly a day since Sorceress Adel’s tomb had crashed here and, even as far as she’d walked, there was still no sign of civilization. Well, there was no sign of any currently living civilization. Every so often she would see scraps of metal and machinery, twisted and wrecked by some terrible force. The sorceress figured she must have landed in the Kashkabald desert near the Centra region. It was the only way to account for all of the sand and machinery, after all. The only other desert this size was in Galbadia, and as much as it would have pleased her to imagine that Galbadia had been crushed and that the scrap around her was all that remained of them, Adel knew that Galbadia’s technology didn’t look anything like what she was seeing. Neither did Dollet’s, for that matter. Their machines were simpler looking than this. From what she could gather of its remains, the ruined machinery around her was once extremely intricate. It was strange how being in space for so long had taught her to pay attention to little details. After all, there wasn’t much else she could do up there besides watch her surroundings and think.
Intricate as the technology was, though, it was primitive in its own way. Levers and wires stuck out every which way from some of it, but she had yet to spot anything resembling a computer part. Adel wasn’t on the level of her technicians, of course, but one didn’t rule the most advanced nation in the world without at least learning the basics, and it seemed as though the wreckage of these machines were just that: machines. There were no computer fragments among the lot of them. So, taking this into account, Adel figured it must have been Centra designed equipment at one time. Adel didn’t know if the Centra had computers or not, but she knew that every other nation in the world did, and she knew enough to apply the basic process of elimination.
Adel chuckled darkly at the thought of the process of elimination. She used to threaten to apply it to subjects who were out-of-line, ignorant, or simply walking past her while she was cranky. Of course, Adel’s special brand of that particular process wasn’t one that her scientists tended to appreciate.
So, picking up a pole for use a walking stick, Adel continued to walk in the same direction she’d been walking in for several hours now. She would come across either the mountains or the sea eventually, and she knew there was at least one operational Centra ruin somewhere on this damnable continent. A team of surveyors had discovered it while scouting the Centra continent for salvageable technology, but all of the teams Odine had sent to investigate further never returned. They were probably killed by Centra continent’s rather savage brand of wildlife; nothing she couldn’t handle. She’d figure out a survival strategy from there, where she was under no danger of frying to death under the sun. As happy as she was to have physical sensation back, the exhilaration of feeling heat again was beginning to wear thin.
“Water…” Adel mumbled, gesturing above her. She’d have to keep cool if she was going to make it to that ruin with her mind intact. Moisture gathered above her head; a faint mist collecting around her finger before evaporating. Adel’s heartbeat sped up a moment at this. “Water!” She repeated forcefully, this time pointing away from herself to cast the spell in its intended fashion as a form of attack. Her hand grew wet, and nothing more. “Flare!” She yelled, hoping in vain that the heat was simply evaporating an entire spell’s worth of water. There was a small popping sound, and a red spark shot roughly two inches from her fingertip.
“Damn it!” Adel shrieked, lifting a nearby cluster of junk and hurling it in anger at the sky. Unused, her magic had grown dormant over the years. Furiously, she realized that—unless she could find something to boost her strength—she would need practice to master them all over again, as she had when she was young. At least her physical strength hadn’t given out on her yet.
Realizing her circumstances were slightly direr than she’d imagined they were, Adel took a worried look at the sky before finding one of many scattered sheets of metal and fashioning a makeshift parasol out of it and her walking stick. It was just as well, considering how hot the damned thing had become in the heat.
As she continued to walk, she noticed the wreckage getting more and more frequent and the dunes getting irritatingly tall. Finally, in the distance, she spotted a gigantic pile of wreckage; obviously the source of the fragments that littered the desert. She had no idea what the place once was—and it was surely some kind of construct at some point—but it was now in shambles. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to scrounge through it to see if she could find anything useful. At the very least, she was sure it would serve as more adequate shade until sunset. Strange, though, how this place had managed to avoid detection. Had it been buried in the sand years ago while she’d ruled? She could think of no other explanation as she got closer and closer to the mass.
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Post by Kefka Palazzo on Sept 1, 2008 0:14:22 GMT -5
"Wh-what...?"
A distant shriek, followed shortly by a closer, ringing crash roused Kefka's senses. "Who...?" The Court Mage shifted, complaining loudly at the spike of pain the maneuver afforded him. First thing's first, he thought dully, stomach wrenching at the acrid taste in his mouth. Something isn't right. Hazily, the mage drew in a deep, rasping breath; the dry air nearly made him choke.
"I'm... alive?" he wheezed, struggling to pry open bleary eyes. Nothing but darkness, at first, until spots and streams of light entered his vision and burned his retinas. Kefka squeezed his eyes shut, snarling at the sting that settled between them. His whole body ached, and now his eyes throbbed due to his own foolish actions. Choking down a curse, he opened his eyes again, carefully this time, determined to see just what the hell was going on. As his surroundings blurred into focus, Kefka took in the details, bit by bit. The area had only seemed dark, he surmised, as he seemed to be only partially sheltered by what looked to be the makings of his-- "The tower!" he spat.
Kefka chanced to move again, slowly this time, clutching at his temples as he sat up. If this was his tower, then-- he wondered crassly if they had all escaped with their lives, or if they lay crushed at the bottom of the tower like the insects they were. The thought made him squirm. "Filthy, filthy, filthy!" he grit through his teeth, motioning as if to brush the dirt off his body.
Of course, it was then that, upon further examination of his surroundings, and a sudden pang of panic that set his chest aflutter, that Kefka realized he might like to, and perhaps need to extract himself from the unlikely shelter. The pieces that had once made up the grand tower now lay precariously atop one another in a way that was in no part structurally sound. He might have counted himself lucky as he crawled through a narrow tunnel that he hoped led to the outside world, but that would require belief in such a thing. The sound of collapse somewhere in the pile behind him caused him to scramble quickly forward, where he lost his footing and tumbled out into daylight.
Out of the shade it was significantly warmer. The smell of salt and dirt and sand assaulted Kefka's nose as he fought to right himself in the sand beneath him, only to fall on his backside. Sand? He certainly didn't remember sand. He lifted a hand to shield his vision. As his eyes adjusted to the sudden flood of searing light, he turned his eyes from the sand beneath him to search the horizon. As far as he could see, there was only sand and debris. Sand and debris.
And Adel.
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Adel
Villain
Hoc est SPARTA.
Posts: 207
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Post by Adel on Sept 1, 2008 2:17:47 GMT -5
Adel growled in annoyance as she slipped slightly on her way down another of those accursed dunes. A particularly large piece of scrap was providing shade for her now—better than her makeshift parasol was—and she began to slow her pace in order to savour the mildly cooling sensation. She stopped before stepping back out into the sun, setting her parasol on the ground and looking around to survey the area for anything even remotely useful.
A set of stairs was roughly twenty feet away, lying on its side. It was useless. A bundle of cable sat on the ground, which she picked up in case she had to drag something behind her. A tangled batch of wires stuck out of some strange apparatus. Was it useless? Adel had no idea. She sighed in frustration, tossing the cables back on the ground as she realized that even if she came across something of use to her, she might not even know what it was.
Walking closer to the central mound of scrap, Adel heard a mild rumble from inside the structure followed shortly by something coming out of it. As it began to move on its own, she was struck with equal parts hope and apprehension. Worst case scenario, it was a monster she could kill, fry in the sun, and eat to rehydrate herself. Whatever it was fell back on its backside before Adel realized it was human shaped at the very least. It looked around for a moment, almost seeming lost. Perhaps someone traveling through the desert had taken shelter there for the night and was now assessing his surroundings. It didn’t matter, really. It was someone who knew where he was, and he probably had supplies. He was looking at her now.
Remembering her current magical deficiency, Adel picked her parasol back up off the ground and tore the metal sheet off of it to return it to its previous state as an impromptu walking stick. Simply being human shaped didn’t mean it was intelligent, after all. Centra had no shortage of undead, and while it didn’t make much of a weapon, Adel wasn’t willing to bet her life on her fists alone.
“You!” She called, her voice echoing off the tower as she bellowed at the figure. “Come here!” She ordered—expecting nothing less than obedience if it could understand her—as she began walking toward it. “I will speak with you!” She called, more of a statement than an offer. As she got closer, it became apparent that it wasn’t undead, whatever it was. Centra’s undead were long since perished, and all that remained were their bones. Whoever this was had flesh on his bones, and he would do as he was told if he wanted to keep it that way.
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Post by Kefka Palazzo on Sept 1, 2008 20:03:07 GMT -5
Kefka watched the human form in the ditance slowly became clearer as it stepped through the desert haze. It barked an order at him in alarmingly feminine voice that might have sent him for a loop if it weren't for the sweltering heat. "You'll speak to me. Doesn't mean I have to listen!" he huffed, eyebrow quirked. And he certainly was not going to 'come here!' The nerve! The court mage attempted to rise to his feet again, taking special not to fall this time. No sense in making oneself look like a fool in front of the enemy, right? Managing to right himself, Kefka stood straight, puffing out his chest and propping his hands on his hips. For a moment, despite his haggard appearance, he looked as proud and imposing as he did before the tower fell.
Until she drew closer, that is. He realized, then, that the figure he had spotted in the distance was much larger than he had assumed, and the piles of debris she passed did nothing to hurt the illusion. Kefka found himself choking down a nervous laugh as she approached. The voice had lead him to believe that it was female, but how was he supposed to believe that now? "Coulda fooled me," he said under his breath. Whatever it was, it was large, and it wielded something that likely did more harm than good.
Which was no problem, he reasoned, straightening again as a wild look found his eye. He knew that he no longer had the power the statues once granted him, but who in their right minds would ever cross Kefka Palazzo, in this world or the next? A confident smirk graced his lips and yet... he couldn't help feel just a little weak in the knees. His voice took on a musical tone.
"Excuse me?"
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Adel
Villain
Hoc est SPARTA.
Posts: 207
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Post by Adel on Sept 2, 2008 0:40:24 GMT -5
“I said ‘come here, I will speak with you’!” Adel shouted at the figure as she drew closer. She could have sworn she’d heard him mumble something to himself a moment ago, but—considering the circumstances—she’d let it slide for now. For all she knew he was just crazy from the heat. His disobedience didn’t matter by this point anyways, as Adel had already reached him while he’d stood there staring at her like a fool. He looked…terrible.
The man was ragged and seemed disoriented; dressed in rags over rags that looked as though they were once elaborate garments, traces of either makeup or face paint was smeared on places of his face, and he had a look on his face that made her want to strike him. Still, there was a regal air about him that kept any of this from making him out to be a common pauper. He was, at the very least, an uncommon pauper. Perhaps he was a street performer or something. What he was doing here, Adel had no idea.
“I am Sorceress Adel, sovereign of Esthar.” She introduced bluntly, sure that her body wouldn’t be winning her any points in discretion anyways, and instead betting on this man’s fear to get her through this without incident. To ensure his compliance, Adel stood as tall and broad as she could manage. A reaction of fear was generally a safe bet from most subjects, but she might have to lay the intimidation on a little thick if she wasn’t going to have her powers to bend his mind. No sense taking any chances, after all. “Tell me who you are, and where you are going.” The sorceress demanded, getting straight to the point. Time was of the essence in this heat, and she wouldn’t waste time bantering with anyone who wouldn’t be of any help to her.
Adel paused a moment before looking up at the former structure behind the strange man, and then continued. “Then tell me what this is and show me your supplies.” She ordered, gesturing behind the strange hobo with her staff. Adel hated not knowing what was going on, and she knew it was a compulsion of hers to assert her authority when she felt out of control of a situation. It didn’t matter if the person she asserted authority over couldn’t make her feel any more in control. She knew she had this compulsion, she just didn’t particularly care.
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Post by Kefka Palazzo on Sept 3, 2008 0:20:03 GMT -5
The proud expression on Kefka's face grew darker as the, er, creature before him continued. "Oh, I heard you, it's just that," he paused, his cast shifting to one of pure confusion. "Esthar," he started, absolutely sure that she had gone stark raving mad with the heat, "I don't recall an Esthar." Perhaps it was some bucolic town he had razed when he brought the world to ruin, he reasoned; what else could it have been?
This was, however, not the most concerning thing she had said, which is what nearly had Kefka stomping his feet in frustration. "Are you," he paused again, an incredulous laugh interrupting his question. "Are you serious? You honestly don't know who I am?" By now, any trace of fear that might have wracked the brain of the court mage had disappeared, replaced with equal parts hubris and disbelief. "Kefka Palazzo, general of the Magitek army, usurper of the Imperial throne, God of Magic; And this," he turned, glancing at his ruined tower with distaste, "was my grand tower."
A deep frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. Did the statues really have to bring him back to this? He couldn't stand the idea of being stranded in the middle of a foreign desert without supplies. Speaking of which! "And you," Kefka turned to face what he had resigned to calling a woman, "you mean to tell me that you came all this way with no supplies?" Shaking his head, he eyed her bulky form suspiciously. "You're not an Esper, are you? No, that would be too easy." He threw his hands up in defeat, half waiting to be struck.
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Adel
Villain
Hoc est SPARTA.
Posts: 207
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Post by Adel on Sept 3, 2008 3:37:14 GMT -5
Adel cocked her eyebrow at this strange ‘Kefka’ man. Clearly he’d gone insane. He hadn’t heard of Esthar, for one, which was just silly. Surely he’d been affected by the war just like everyone else. Even if he were some crazy hermit who had lived in Centra all his life and didn’t know about the outside world, that was no excuse for thinking he was a magic god. The only male magic user was Hyne, and this man was no Hyne. Well, he was probably no Hyne. Adel had to admit she had never really thought about what He might look like, but it certainly wouldn’t be this. Hyne wouldn’t let His own tower fall, for one thing.
However, other things concerned Adel besides Kefka’s idiocy. For one, he said something about an empire that sounded unfamiliar. It was possible, she supposed, that some new nation had quickly risen to power since her exile. Galbadia, probably, given how crippled the Dollet empire had become in the last few years of the war. But if Kefka were a member, surely he would know of Esthar. The whole world knew of Esthar. It couldn’t be that she’d been frozen for far longer than she’d realized, could it? No, she was sure it couldn’t have been more than seven or so years.
Magitek was another thing that sounded unfamiliar to her. She had no idea what that meant, but then that would certainly explain the unfamiliar technology around here and the unnamed nation’s rise to power. Although, she realized, this was all more than likely just some mad tale the man told himself every day to make himself feel important. Kefka probably had to entertain himself somehow between the bouts of sobbing over how meaningless his life was, or whatever it was paupers did in their free time.
“No, I have not heard of you.” She started impatiently, unhappy with his tone. “I have not heard of you,” She repeated, advancing on him slowly, wagging her makeshift weapon as she did. “Nor have I heard of your empire, nor have I heard of your magitek,” The sorceress continued, her voice raising as she stopped about a foot from him, craning her head down to look at him. “Nor have I heard of your tower, nor espers, oh ‘God of magic’.” She mocked, grabbing him by his collar and lifting him to eye-level. He had dodged surprisingly artfully for a moment, but seemed to have misjudged the length of her arm before getting caught.
“I am without supplies because my orbital prison crashed here after falling from space.” Adel explained, being as patronizing as she could manage. “It was knocked out of space by that.” She continued, her teeth contorting into the most vicious grin she could manage as she pointed at the red stream of monsters falling from the moon onto some damned landmass. The sorceress made sure to turn him enough so the stream was clearly visable before returning his eyes to hers. “So,” She leered, being sure to speak as articulately as she was able in her overheated and fairly outraged state. “Tell me where you are going and tell me you have something useful for me, or I am going to eat you.” She finished, repeating a variation on her unaccomplished demands from a moment ago as she tossed him to the ground. It was the truth, really. Adel was no cannibal, but if this man was of no use to her then he would have to be her source of food and water until she could find that Centra ruin.
((Kefka's actions in this post were done with his permission.))
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Post by Kefka Palazzo on Sept 3, 2008 23:25:15 GMT -5
This turn of events had the court mage questioning his own sanity for a moment, and as he fell his eyes were trained not on Adel, but on the steady, red stream in the sky. He had not witnessed an event such as this since the Esper flood; had the gate been opened again? The sudden shock of skin and bone against steel jolted Kefka out of his reverie. He yelped, his already sore body buckling against scrap steel. He twisted his body against the hot metal, and something in him knew that showing weakness here would be fatal. Something fierce gnawed at his nerves when a drop of blood smeared across the face of a man, ragged and threadbare, reflected in the dull metal.
"How dare you," Kefka seethed, raking his hand across the metal as if to scrub out the image. He would not allow this; this would not be the death of him. He tuned slowly, pushing himself up on one hand while reaching out with the other. "Fire," he hissed through his teeth. For a moment, a faint red glow seemed to travel the length of his arm, though it fizzled out at his fingertips. What? He tried again, a bit calmer this time, to no avail. "Fire, fire, fire!" he spat, staring at his hand in disbelief. Were they mocking him?
Kefka had all but forgotten Adel as he howled threats at the gods. This simply did not make sense! The Triad were still active somewhere; he could feel them! Why, then, was his magic ineffective? "Curse you!" he roared back to the tower as he rose to his feet again, snatching a small knife from his boot; he was certainly not above physical threats when pressed. "Listen, woman. You obviously don't know where you are. I do." It was a lie, but she didn't have to know that. "I'm afraid eating me won't do you any good. While I don't have the supplies you seek," he went on, confident at least with his skill in negotiation, "you will need my help if you want out of this desert." At least, he hoped, this would keep him uneaten for a while longer.
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Adel
Villain
Hoc est SPARTA.
Posts: 207
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Post by Adel on Sept 7, 2008 3:05:21 GMT -5
Adel watched with caution as Kefka raised his arm to her. He must have had a GF or something. She was a fool to think his claims of magic were completely unfounded. He must have had some reason to believe he was the god of magic. No doubt he’d stumbled across the process of casting para-magic and believed himself some sort of god. She braced herself for the spell as he spoke its name, throwing her arms up across her face and upper body.
She held that position a moment before hearing him speak the spell’s name again. He then spoke it several more times in rapid succession, angrily this time. Adel’s expression quickly went from a battle snarl to a smirk. Okay, so his claims of magic were completely unfounded: either that or it’d been longer since his last draw than he remembered. Judging from the way he was shouting at the sky, it could have been the latter. It didn’t really matter now, though. Adel approached the man quickly, readying her pole as she prepared to beat Kefka to death and use every piece of him to survive.
The vagrant pulled out a knife before she could reach him, and while it wasn’t an especially threatening knife, it was enough to stop her advance. She couldn’t have herself getting cut up if she had no cure magic, after all. Adel wasn’t a survivalist, but bleeding probably didn’t help stave off heat exhaustion. It didn’t look like he was preparing to attack, though. Kefka got that proud look on his face again, and she sighed inwardly as she realized he was going to start talking. He claimed not to have any supplies, which could have meant he was either lying or lived off of the land and could get food if she needed it. He also claimed he knew where he was going, and that Adel ‘clearly’ did not. The audacity! She knew where she was; she didn’t know exactly where she was, how to get where she was going, or how going there would help her in the long run.
Adel grumbled to herself about regretting what she was about to do as she lowered her weapon and rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Get me to civilization and I won’t kill you.” She conceded, crossing her arms in frustration. She realized, of course, that he could easily lead her into a trap of some kind, or sneak off in the night and leave her to the monsters. He would need some reason to do as she commanded, and while threats certainly worked when she was in control of the situation, Kefka was the one with the directions here. She would need something else to make him obedient, and so she fell back on her dusty old standby pacifier: bribery.
“Get me there fast enough and you will be rewarded.” She promised, gesturing to the large golden cuffs around her wrists. She had no idea if gold was of any value to the man, but was sure her point would get across. She would decide whether or not to reward him or kill him depending on exactly where he took her and how quickly he got here there. After all, if he was a good enough guide then she might actually have some use for him once she retook Esthar. Those idiot researchers were always getting themselves lost in Centra, after all. It couldn’t hurt to have someone on staff who knew the place. Of course, she also hated Kefka already, so he would have to be the best damn guide she’d ever had if he had any chance at survival.
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Post by Kefka Palazzo on Sept 7, 2008 20:35:28 GMT -5
Bribery. Kefka snorted; the bracelets probably weren't even real gold. He quickly decided that in this situation he did not have room to be particular. Whatever. He supposed he could pawn them off for some new clothing or some food once they reached civilization. Kefka had to suppress a frown at that thought. To think that he, the great Kefka Palazzo, the first Magitek knight, would be reduced to relying on bribes and bartering. It made him sick.
He pursed his lips, brow furrowed in consideration as he waved the dagger at her. "We have a deal," he conceded, bending to sheathe the dagger in his boot, but thinking better of it. He eyed Adel, slowly rising up to tuck the knife under a belt. Kefka knew he couldn't do much damage to her, but if she were to come at him, he was certainly going to take her down with him. He simply would NOT have her eating him, one way or another.
Now all that was left was to decide exactly which direction to head. As he recalled, there were only two options: South to Albrook, and Northwest to Tzen. After the Ruin, ships no longer docked in Albrook, a fact which left them with one option. They would travel Northwest to Tzen, a small town where Kefka was less likely to be recognized, and where they would hopefully part ways. He had promised her civilization, and that was as far as he would take her if he had his way. He simply could not begin to entertain the idea of spending any more time with the insufferable wretch than necessary. He was already beginning to develop a twitch.
"We'll be heading Northwest," he muttered to no one, glaring up at the angry sun. If being the general of an army had taught Kefka anything, it was how to navigate. After a moment of thought and small guestures, he pointed, a small grin creeping onto his lips. "It's a small town, but they're sure to have supplies." Of course, he had destroyed Tzen, but the inhabitants of this world proved painfully strong-willed. He glanced at Adel, and for a moment wondered if she had decided to eat him instead.
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Adel
Villain
Hoc est SPARTA.
Posts: 207
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Post by Adel on Sept 10, 2008 3:39:05 GMT -5
Adel watched the strange, increasingly edible looking man as he bent to sheath his blade before deciding against it. She rolled her eyes at the obvious gesture of hostility. He had even had the gall to snort at her generosity: a side of herself she rarely showed to anyone. This would be a most unpleasant trip indeed if this man wasn’t going to learn some manners. She would just have to teach him some, then. It might even serve as some form of entertainment.
The man spent a while looking around in various directions before gesturing off in a direction and claiming they needed to head northwest to a village. This was, in and of itself, a strange claim. Had colonists of some sort migrated to Centra in her time away? That must have been the case, if there was any truth to his claim. It didn’t surprise her, really. Centra was a researcher’s paradise, so it was only natural they would construct some kind of makeshift village on it so they could spend all their time there.
“Fine.” She grumbled, heading off in the direction he pointed. She saw nothing in that direction but scrap and sand, but it wasn’t as though she had anything else to go off of. Jamming her staff back into the scrap sheet she’d used to form a parasol before as she walked, Adel hefted it over her shoulder to get back in the shade. She wasn’t really sure how the sun affected purple skin, but she wasn’t going to take her chances without a shirt in this heat.
Stopping for a moment and turning around, Adel gestured half-heartedly at the remains of Kefka’s once proud…whatever it used to be. “If anything in there is useful, grab it.” She ordered, continuing to walk as she did in the direction Kefka had pointed. Smirking, she shot the odd fellow a look over her shoulder as she walked.
“And be hasty about it, little man.”
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Post by Kefka Palazzo on Sept 11, 2008 2:42:15 GMT -5
"Fine," Kefka mumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes when Adel turned in the direction he had pointed. "Of course it's fi- hey!" He crossed his arms, a deep frown setting into his features as he watched her walk away. What was her problem, anyway? Orbital prison? If it were truly a prison as she said, one would rightly think that she might be in a better mood now that she was released from it. Granted, they were in the middle of a desert, but...
Kefka looked affronted when she turned back and demanded something of him. He would be leading her to civilization per his part of the bargain; couldn't she afford to be, say, a little nicer? Perhaps he should have insisted on it. He watched, gritting his teeth as she gestured at the remains of his tower, causing his frown to deepen further still. He had stopped listening to her at this point, of course; women, if she really was what she claimed to be, could certainly be mouthy couldn't they?
When she turned her back again, Kefka gesticulated in a pantomime of her particularly verbose nature before turning to look at the immense heap of scrap beside him. No use in heading back in there, he determined; it certainly wasn't safe enough for his tastes, and he would never be caught dead risking his life for her.
“And be hasty about it, little man.”
Speaking of her! Kefka had entertained the thought of simply losing Adel, but that simply wouldn't do, now, would it? She would have to pay for that little comment. He turned on his heels, and stomped off after Adel, eyes all fire and brimstone. "Woman!"
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Adel
Villain
Hoc est SPARTA.
Posts: 207
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Post by Adel on Sept 11, 2008 3:03:54 GMT -5
Adel stopped in her tracks at the shout behind her, turning on her heel as she did so. Nobody spoke to her like that, no matter how obviously insane they were. If Kefka hadn’t called out her sex to warn her of an impending sandstorm, monster attack, or other life threatening event she was unaware of, then she would once again have to seriously consider killing the man. This was especially true now that she had a vague idea which direction she was going.
“…Yes?” The sorceress spoke, ice in her voice as she glared daggers at the pauper approaching her. She merely stood after speaking, awaiting his response and forming a fist just in case he began to get mouthy. Some people took exhausting amounts of time to break. She usually had these people killed to send a message, but she was going to have to deal with this one…for now.
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Post by Kefka Palazzo on Sept 12, 2008 2:42:00 GMT -5
"You!" Kefka might have stopped short when he heard the dark tone of Adel's voice, but something in him drove his feet forward. He stopped just a foot from her, glaring up at her with furrowed brows and wild eyes. "You," he repeated, drawing it out low and slow this time, fists clenched at his sides. "I don't like you," he finished, voice slipping in high, angry tones through his teeth. Of course, he hadn't planned to be staring up at her like this; she really was taller than he'd realized. What he wouldn't do for his magic to be functioning at the moment.
By now, Kefka's nails had dug little impressions into his palms, which were beginning to sting as his fists tightened. It was time to move, his legs told him; daylight would run out soon, and with it vital walking time. He huffed turned his head away, stepping around her to continue the path she had started walking, although slightly more North. "We'll rest when the light dies out," he said with finality, marking the end of the statement with a kick to the sand as he marched off.
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Adel
Villain
Hoc est SPARTA.
Posts: 207
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Post by Adel on Sept 14, 2008 4:24:15 GMT -5
Adel smiled haughtily at the man as he huffed and stormed off. It wasn't an appropriate way to speak to her, but Kefka's obvious disdain for Esthar's former ruler, combined with his inability to do anything about it, left the sorceress feeling rather smug. Adel enjoyed this feeling, and so she decided not to throttle the pauper. She'd let him get away with it this once, if for no other reason than to keep herself amused.
Kefka said they'd rest at night. Rest? Rest where? Surely he didn't intend to have her sleep in the sand, in the freezing desert night, exposed to creatures big and small while in a state of vulnerability. She had hoped to find some kind of shelter by night. Damn it all, this was going to get even more aggravating than she'd thought.
Adel caught up to the former General quickly enough, reaching out and grabbing him by the back of the rags that could probably one have been called clothes. "It's going to get cold at night. Give me your coat if you're not going to find us shelter." She demanded, releasing Kefka's clothes. Crossing her arms and glaring her usual 'do-as-I-say' glare, Adel waited patiently for Kefka to respond. She would beat it off of the vagrant is she had to; it was his choice.
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