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Bittiface rolled 1 6-sided dice:
3
Total: 3 (1-6)
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 Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2012 7:49 am
Quote: Rolling a 3: ALL DAMAGE HAS NO MODIFIER (ie: you don't need to subtract -6 ) .
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2012 7:55 am
It seemed the more troubled Mot became, the more frequent his trips to the Haunted House were. Now, at the bottom of the abyss of despair, he wondered how the tainted house would treat him. He walked carelessly across a stone bridge of sorts, hanging over what he assumed to be a bottomless pit. There was only two doors. The one he came through, and the one on the other side of the bridge.
Mot stood in silence, staring down into the blackness below.
Suddenly all those songs about heartbreak being like a bottomless pit of despair and such made sense.
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2012 8:05 am
Bix was on a bit of a determined drive. He'd talked with himself and his conscience of a weapon and he'd resolved to move forward and stop moping and be a better hunter. His relations with particular Halloweeners were up in the air for the moment as he toyed with the idea of influencing them, if it would be possible, and if he was capable of bringing anyone to the other side.
He'd taken to patrolling without his bow on the off chance he came across one of the more amiable monsters or ghosts. Unfortunately as he passed through the doorway the only thing he could see was a familiar lanky cowboil in a familiar beat up hat.
Bix held up his hands immediately, a smile on his face. The cowboil hadn't hit him very hard in their first fight so he figured he was safe for a moment with no weapon. The reaper looked morose and tired. Teenage troubles?
"Howdy, Cowboil." He waved a hand, still showing he wasn't armed. "Looking pretty miserable there. Every cowboy sings a sad sad song.. so Poison taught me." He probably had no idea what Bix was talking about.
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2012 8:12 am
Mot barely flinched as he heard a familiar voice. His head turned slowly, sure enough finding the archer some distance away. Unarmed, for now. He wasn't sure what sort of scheme the hunter was working up now, but it was going over Mot's head entirely. Maybe he wanted his hat again?
Tired terra cotta eyes peeked out from beneath the hat's brim, brows furrowing ever slightly. "..Huh?"
Yeah, he had no idea what he was talking about. Who was this Poison fellow and what did they know about him?
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2012 8:22 am
"Heh.." Bix looked sheepish and rubbed his neck, hands sagging. "It's a song. I guess you guys probably don't have... our songs." Duh, Bix. Sure he could start singing it for him but he wasn't exactly band-worthy. Nor choir worthy. There were probably cats that screeched better than him.
"Oh hey sorry about the hat thing.. but I returned it right? Your ghoulfriend wasn't exactly reasonable when I told her I didn't want to fight so..." He reached in his coat, SLOWLY, holding up a hand. "Just.. getting something."
He pulled out some battered looking comic books. He must have got them in the discount bin (and some were taped together, remnants of what Hel shredded).
"Peace offering." he walked forward and held them out. Jonah Hex. Supernatural battling cowboy with the scarred up face.
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2012 8:34 am
Had Mot been in a better mindset, he'd have been leery of the hunter. However, with his attitude and pride as it was, that unless Bix attacked, Mot would likely just sit and stare. He blinked slowly as he fumbled with his words. Oh, so he'd been quoting a song. If it was about cowboys then maybe it was a good song.
Bix's apology was met with another slow blink, eyeing the albino carefully as he mentioned Hel. That's right. Hel had forged ahead without telling him and getting the hat back. That incident had been the start of the trouble between them.
A long sigh.
He remained where he was until offered some beat up comic books. Mot took them into his own hands and began looking them over. Cowboils? Mot's lips twisted uncertainly at the peace offering, sad eyes observing the details of the drawings.
These were.... these were... kind of really cool.
Mot looked up a bit, using one of the books in his hand to tilt his hat up enough to get another look at Bix. "And you're just... giving me these? ...Why?"
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2012 8:58 am
"Cause you are clearly a cowboy..er.. boil and I like to share comics with everyone? Even you 'weeners." Bix shrugged. Perhaps, just maybe, it was on the agenda for them to be a bit naicer. Maybe woo them over to the Deus cause. Perhaps a down and out reaper with a crushed expression was a good target?
Or maybe Bix just liked sharing comics.
"Plus I told you before, all I wanted to do was borrow your hat for a while. It's pretty cool." He smirked crookedly. Bix peered down over the bridge edge and whistled.
"Weren't thinking of jumping were you? I didn't think reapers flew.."
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2012 9:09 am
His hat was indeed cool. It had been hand made by Hel. Just for him. Even after the heartbreak, he still coveted the hat.
He looked over the edge as well, holding the small pile of comics in one hand while his other arm leaned on the ledge. "No, most don't. I certainly don't." He replied solemnly. "Jumping over would do me little good other than land me in the Nurse's office." Seeing Cricket was not on his list of things to do. That would not make him feel better at all.
Standing there talking to a hunter like it was no big thang? Not helping either. Actually, it was surreal. Maybe he was dreaming? Yeah, maybe he was.
"So what exactly did you need with my hat back then?"
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2012 9:45 am
"I didn't really need it. I just wore it for a few days. Did my thing. Chatted up some girls." Bix grinned. "Not really my look it turns out."
He watched the sag in Mots shoulders and he uneasy glances. Bix needed to try and alleviate that. He wanted the reaper to at least be less on guard.
"I'm not bad ya know.." Bix waved his empty arms again. "You aren't the first student I've just talked to. I take it you have some ummm bad blood?" Or maybe he'd heard the awful things?
"Just.. " bix shrugged. "Just a young guy with a weapon. Like you. With people telling us what to do with them." It wasn't far from the truth on either part.
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2012 10:19 am
"So essentially you took my hat for a joy ride." Mot said with a flat look. Oh well. He didn't care anymore. It... was just a hat.. right?
Mot's gaze fazed in and out as he listened to Bix. His attention was there, albeit sometimes noises tended to fade a bit. "I've had too many bad encounters with hunters to simply let it go." Mot said solemnly. His very first field trip had been to the Haunted House, and was his first encounter with them. "Bad blood doesn't even remotely cover it." Among so many other things, treating them like so much as pests.
"A hunter cut off my ex-ghoulfriend's wings. They never grew back." That might have been the worst of it.
The reaper let out a breath and stared down into the abyss. "You do realize your 'weapons' were once a being of Halloween, right?"
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2012 10:52 am
"Ex-ghoulfriend? Is that what the mope is about?" Bix was intrigued. Soap opera romances amongst the student body? BRING IT ON, he wanted the gossip.
"And you realize your FEAR hunger drains people.. our children, our weak. You've got species who eat human flesh and while you may have rules, it doesn't mean they are obeyed. Your horsemen straight up MURDER." Bix shrugged. "I'm just saying. It's a matter of perspective."
Bix leaned back. "And I didn't cut off your ghoul's wings. I didn't even know she had them. Not sure if you know but.. a lot of our weapons CHOSE to be what they are."
Bix gave Mot a look. Don't be mad at him because at some point in the past, a student made a choice. "They made a decision, like I did to become a hunter. I could live in terror because I can see you people and feel you terrorizing my entire life, or I can try to protect people who can't protect themselves.. My weapon is me and I'm her." He patted his chest. "And she's alive still. Not dead. Not suffering. She's got what she wanted."
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2012 11:40 am
"Essentially." Mot answered vaguely. He was not at liberty to discuss the ups and catastrophic downs of his personal life to a stranger.
He'd heard this argument before, from the one with the scimitar. Albeit that guy was a lot stabbier than Bix. "Fine. Point taken." Mot mumbled, leaning both arms on the ledge and leaning his chin down. He knew from the Trance that some had chosen that path, but he couldn't help but feel as if they'd somehow been suckered into it. He knew they'd be weaponized, but they didn't. Still, arguing would get him no where.
He still didn't trust the guy. Not entirely. One day they'd cross paths in a battle and this conversation would have meant nothing.
"I still don't understand how one of us could turn agains't their own.."
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2012 12:25 pm
"Why does anyone do anything?" Bix snorted. "Why do people break the law? Why do kids rebel against their parents? Why do I like vanilla instead of chocolate and girls with big hips instead of those skinny twig looking girls? It's a matter of perogative dude."
Bix leaned on the bridge and looked over the edge. "What are you guys.. teenagers? Even the hunters.. teens and young adults. It's all a scheme. Hunters.. Halloween. You're born that way and then all of a sudden you have this legacy you have to uphold. Suddenly you are following orders and maybe they seem confusing or morally ambiguous. They want you to fight for some great cause, right?" Bix shrugged.
"Well imagine for the first time in your life someone says 'you can do what you want and be who you want and no one can stop you. The choice is yours and no one elses' You finally have a life decision that is yours and yours alone. Why does that sound bad?" It wasn't that far off from Bix's own recruitment.
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2012 12:56 pm
Damnit. Why did Bix have to be so damn reasonable? It was getting harder and harder to pretend Mot hated him. "Nothing is black and white. It's just a whole lot of gray.. is what you're saying." Mot replied solemnly, heavy eyes blinking as if it were a chore.
"Honestly the whole war with hunters.. the Halloween Pride and whatever.." Mot started darkly, "I figured it was a way to rally beings into defending our lives. Maybe it is.. But Hunters have their own reasons for doing what they do, it seems. I still don't agree with the way they do it but.."
He shrugged.
"Maybe I think too small, but trying to save the world seems too big a job for me." Maybe he wasn't cut out for the life of a Boogeyman..
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2012 8:04 pm
"The only one who can worry about you, is you." Bix believed that now. He was slowly coming to terms with it. "Even with lots of friends. At the end of the night it's just you there and that's the only person you need to be at peace with really." Bix was watching Mot, his sighing and drooping eyes. His attitude was all together morose.
"What do you want to do with your life then?" Bix prodded a bit, trying to weasel his way into Mot's good graces and learn a few things. "I made my choice. Bad or good.. and if you think about it I'm just a goofy guy who luckily got a magic weapon. Without her, the choice she made to be something powerful, well without her I'm just a goofy dude who would be in the ground right now." Dead.
But Halloweeners were lucky. They didn't really die. "Or maybe I'd be here. Some ghost or zombie or.. soul reaped or whatever. But I guess you guys don't have to worry about that.." he said it dismissively, like a simple fact. But really he was downplaying his own mortality, upping the importance of their power. Just little things, subtle self deprecations to lower the reaper's guard further.
He was good at self deprecation.
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