<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td><center><span style='color:BBFFFF'>The Sting of a Poisonous Dragon</span> Quarter: Mia (Winter) Day: 18th Year: 81378 Just an introduction for my character. I don't like randomly jumping into plots. http://shadowlack.com/persona.php?id=293<span style='color:yellow'>Inolax ¤ Ivory Princess</span></a> </tr></td></table> Crisp mountain sky, a hard shade of bright blue with streaks of silvered clouds passing by. The mountains within the range gave a subliminal pain along with the cold air, the occasional jagged peaks feeling like spines stabbing into the back of one's mind. Inside the mountains in an area quite difficult to climb to, jets of smoke from burning fuel passed into the daylight horizon. The stony sides of one of the mountains was charred, and crushed rock fell piece by piece from what appeared to be a large drill bit jammed into the mountains. It was grotesque in appearance, a long cylindrical device with bend and broken blades still turning slowly, scrapping against the mountain. Roughly the size of a small cabin and colored a vile, black and purple suite of decoration, it certainly stood out amongst such a statuesque landscape. The machina bore an insignia, though mostly scratched away from the impact. On the underside, a limp arm hung lazily from a broken window. An aircraft, possibly an experiment gone wrong. It was a peculiar sight, but even more peculiar was that the arm was still moving. In an instant, the arm and the body attached to it fell down towards a flatland of rock, dirt, and grass not too far below. <span style='color:yellow'>"..."</span> What fell out was snow. At least, something quite similar. A long, sleek arm attached to a glove-covered fist touched the ground with its knuckles upon the landing. Almost like a trailing ghost, shimmering strands of silver fell down around the white apparition's shoulders and body with a few tight, silver braids swaying from side to side. It was a female, though shrouded slightly with tiara, covering her forehead and with a solid blue glare lens that covered the top half of her face. As she stood up, one leg bending slightly, a sense of Pendragon lineage was just barely recognizable. She wore a small and slender black Qi-pao decorated with a few twisting roses across each panel, the high neck of the oriental dress covering her delicate neck and crossing over her bosom. The tell-tale wings were bound up by some sort of white, tight tape, and her forepaws seemed more like broadened, definite hands with streamline fingers. She opened her mouth slightly, huffing a small gust of frost in the cold air between her aggressive canines, her chest heaving with every breath. It had not been a planned landing in such a place in the middle of nowhere, but at least she was alive. Raising her left arm into the air, she clenched all five fingers slowly as if calling down something else from the sky. Almost immediately, a slender blade surrounded by a humming golden aura--the Tsurugi--made its way into her hand from the still burning machina above.
-Confrontation 1: The Ajita Bounty Hunter's Guild Julian Kerkar, the Bizen Wolf. The female's diamond dust hair floated and trailed slightly as sounds of heavy propellers chopping through the mountain winds roared from a distance not too far away. As she lowered the Tsurugi towards the ground, a heaping monstrosity of machina rose slowly from the edge of the cliff. A blinding glare rolled across the slightly cracked protective glass shield on the front, while the craft turned slowly to show the rest of its tattered bulk. Roughly the size of a conventional helicopter, the hulking hunk of hefty metal was beginning to fall apart. At a time it had been a streamline assault craft, covered on both flanks by sleek exhaust panels and a rack of sub-par weaponry, just good enough for a quick mission. Now, just as the craft that the Ivory Pendragon had fallen from the craft was reduced to nothing more than a partially functioning scrap head. ZZ-003 CHAKADEN was the model number grafted on the side, though a bit worn off from fire. Inside the CHAKADEN was a small group of Pendragons, most of them in relatively helpless shape. The few that could still move within the cramped craft attended to those whose wounds were gashed and bled heavily to say the least, but one of the Pendragon passengers stood within the portal where the CHAKADEN's sliding door had once been. Mostly heavy, blackened clothing from head to toe covered his masculine build. A noil greased and battered rocket launcher lay over his shoulder, while thick bandages covered one eye. The Pendragon himself was of a more werewolven persuasion, dull brown fur about a partially clothed white maw, and his large hands ferocious as a shipyards manÂ’s hook. The larger Pendragon jumped down from his standing point and onto the edge of the cliff, his large feet clinging onto the ground at the edge. Though he was in a bipedal for, his hands dug into the ground with the rocket launcher barely teetering on its supports, his broad back arched. As soon as the CHAKADEN began to leave the area, far too damaged and with too many casualties to continue, the "Werewolf" stood again. "People of this world will suffer because of your presence." <span style='color:yellow'>"..."</span> "Big brother Julian could have made sure your death was painless, but it's out of his hands now. Why did you have to be so difficult...don't you hear me? I wanted to help you..." The woman stared at the werewolf, her golden eyes only halfway opened, lacking any care for his words, but with ferocity inside them. The differences between them were obvious, definitely detrimental in her favor. Julian, as he called himself, was easily 7 feet tall. Underneath the draping black clothing and some sort of thick, yet light body armor of padded material and sleek metal was a mass of meat and muscle. Julian was losing his mind by now, a failed attempt at a calm, deepened voice becoming a higher pitched, perverse tone whenever his words became too much for him. The werewolf's eyes had become bloodshot. Given the shape of himself, his departing ship, and the Ivory Pendragon's craft, his state had to be the cause of an earlier confrontation. Even without his massive build, the rather rugged rocket launcher was daunting enough. Compared to him, the barely over six foot ivory kitten looked like a lamb being led to the slaughter. "Do you understand the trouble that you're causing for us? The people are disturbed, innocent women that look even remotely like you are being slain on sight. Someone like you just should not exist! What right do you have to live?!" <span style='color:yellow'>"Inolax not care."</span> The feline's words struck the werewolf's ears harder than a man's confession to a woman. Her voice was almost identical to a young girl, and her words more humbling to her appearance. After she spoke, Inolax leaned her head forward, her hair swooping over her shoulders and bosom again. Like water running down a leaf, her slender fingers traced slowly against the back of her Tsurugi. Inolax's left leg dragged itself forward along with her hand's motion, while the other leg bent. She was crouched, the arc of the Tsurugi over her head and her free hand pointing two fingers towards the werewolf. <span style='color:yellow'>"Leave alone!"</span> His temper was already rising. Emotions that were unable to be assuaged and already lacking his ability to reason, Julian lifted the rocket launcher off of his back while his roaring maw ripped the cloth that covered his face. He was missing just a few fangs, and blood covered his matted white fur around the maw. Instead of using the rocket launcher for its common sense purpose--to some, its only purpose, he lurched forward from the edge of the cliff with the loading end grasped tightly in his gnarled, broken clawed hands. ______ <span style='color:yellow'>"Pesky pesky."</span> In the midst of Julian's clamorous rage, Inolax was still able to calm reality with her own grace. Her foot, protected by only her dingy, white and golden-laced boots braced against the bottom of the rocket launcher. Her face was as close as it could get to angry, though just more of a miffed expression with both eyes flaring because of Julian's annoyance. <span style='color:yellow'>"I say, leave alone! Bother!"</span> The rocket launcher left Julian's hands in a hurry, Inolax's powerful thighs twisting wit the rest of her body. Her foot swept the rocket launcher from his grasp and sent it twirling to the rocky face of the mountainside behind them, where it surprisingly didn't explode. The Tsurugi sang through air, cutting through the rocky ground while her right hand pulled slowly to her small waist. It switched between hands with an almost flawless golden dance of the daylight's reflection and her blade's purity, leaving a steady and brilliant arc of gold wherever the Tsurugi passed. Every few seconds, an insignificant cut would rake across Julian's body at random locations. Arms, legs, chest, even the face was carved at the edge of the Tsurugi, covering his front. She was purposefully leaving the werewolf's vital areas alone, but even the small cuts drew blood. <span style='color:yellow'>"From MuuNyuu forest I step over body of Gyuung Fang, and in desert of Tmu I soar over tomb of Rlyypi Jubam."</span> Inolax slowed her Tsurugi's dance, jabbing into Julian's rib cage with her index and middle fingers covered by dainty gloves. His neck twitched from a muscle spasm, and torso bent to the side from the pressure of the jab. Her hand rose from his ribs like a swan's neck and head, evenly placing her palm over his chest and directing flat blows into his taught, iron stomach. <span style='color:yellow'>"In skies I destroy Guardian Fortress of Telams Dauj, and in sea I drown the Invincible Hand Tyol Klaubaj. Today I break one soul, tomorrow thousand!"</span> She turned around abruptly the Tsurugi whipping behind her with independent strands of silver hair flying away from her back. As she released the Tsurugi, letting it hover beside her waist, Inolax clenched her right hand with each fingers lowering one after the other. Julian's throat pulsed as rapid grunts forced their way out of his lungs, his mouth soon filling with blood. A last, drawn out gag spurting blood as his heart choked within his mouth, still pumping onto the ground. His body collapsed down the side of the cliff, leaving only steamy blood in the snow freshly fallen onto the ground. <span style='color:yellow'>"Trouble trouble. How I get down from here?"</span> Inolax turned her head down the cliff, looking down to the countryside below the Nyonge Mountain Range. She purred slightly, twitching her dainty ears underneath her hair and whisked the bushy, white fur on her tail. What is a girl to do?
