eeewwww, blockades D= (Job w/ Strange)

Job: Get Rid Of That Pesky Blockade!
Job Location:Train Station, Clover Town
Rank: C
Player Requirements: At least 15 posts long. Posts must be 200 words minimum.
Job Requirements:C-rank mage or two D-rank mages minimum, maximum four mages on this job. To remove the blockade and fight off the goblin and the vulcan.
Job Description: "We been having some trouble by these pair of annoying whipper-snappers, a goblin and a vulcan who keep terrosing and being a general nuiscence at our train tracks, but now they just went ahead and blocked the tracks with a great old tree! They say we give 'em 100 pies and 100 tubs of sherbert or they'll never move the tree! Those rascals are holding up the trains and closed our station! Go over there and teach 'em a lesson, so we can get things moving again!"- Station Controller Albert.
Enemies:
Weak: Goblin
Medium: Vulcan
Reward: 1,500 jewels

No crowds, no cheers, and no fans in sight. This was no place for Horatio! And as such, Strange, the original timid one, was left in charge for this venture. Unlike what most people were used to, the man in the overly fancy and dapper outfit seemed less explosive. His eyes and facial expression void of the usual sparkle, devoid of the usual aura of passion that oozed off him. His body language became less extravagant and his voice monotone. Yet there were gains to be made as well. When not depending on his extravagant counter-part Strange was more witty, and his words seemed to carry more weight and a seriousness to it that they would otherwise lack.

The creatures on the track seemed to have a lower level of intelligence than humans. Obviously, or they would be the ones dominating this planet. Shaking his head strange set a step in front of his partner. He thought about how it might have seemed awkward, as he hadn't spoken as much more than a couple of words with her, but he was here for a job, not for idle chit-chatter.''You two. I would like to keep this simple. Get this tree away or we'll be forced to take counter measures that would not benefit you in the long run.''  The words were spoken and his message was straight to the point. The sentence was even followed up with a sigh of slight annoyance. It was a job that had to be done, but it all seemed so meddlesome.

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Strange always wondered why Horatio was gathering peculiar people to join their 'team bravado'. His doubts were especially high with the newest addition, Aerwyna. Then again, he acknowledged as well that he had very little information on her, or for that matter, most of the guild. It was one of the side effects of staying on the side lines, or in the shadows of his grander alter ego. He was always left alone tinkering in the Silver Moon Inn's kitchen when nobody was around. It was nice and quiet that way, however this day was everything but that. He sighed annoyed at the creatures remark, but before he could take any further action it seemed his companion had quite enough of their attitude as well. What Strange didn't see coming was that one of the creatures was promptly kicked sky high, with an astonishing little amount of effort. He considered himself physically fit, but no way in hell would he be capable of pulling the same trick.

Grabbing his cane tightly Strange felt a faint sense of determination. Sure his alter ego would be claiming responsibility for handling some kind of distraction, or using some kind of enchanting magic on his teammate, but he was different. He knew fully well his own limitations but also realized he couldn't stay behind bluffing on forever. Some part of Strange was even happy there were no crowds for Horatio to jump on. He hadn't had the possibility of testing his hours of training yet. While Horatio was showboating all day long, and whilst that definitely had it's merits, Strange was training during the night. Honing his physical aptitude, becoming just a tat stronger step by step, more nimble, everything that could help him cover up Horatio's biggest weakness. Without a smile, or any expression at all he swirled his Cane around as a show of agility and strength, after which he quickly swung it downwards on top of the remaining creature after a sudden dash. The Cane of Canes as it was known wasn't made to fight, it looked sturdy, even had a golden ball mounted on top, but as soon as it hit the creatures head it broke into pieces, leaving the gold ball to bounce off towards somewhere else. It might not have been real gold after all! (wordcount; 388)

Strange just stared at the creatures as he his consciousness started to slightly fade. He felt the wind picking up and blowing against his skin, he heard the grass rustle all around him, and he noticed the strange feeling of standing on a completely quiet train track. No vibrations, no sound. It was weird, unnatural, and something that began to be annoying. But at that moment in time something weird happened. It wasn't the first time, but it was extremely unpleasant. Over the past couple of months he had noticed it had began to become a bother. It was a state of mind where he seemed to loose himself. Not necessarily in the way that he usually did with his alter ego Horatio, but something in between. Somewhere his urges became more apparent. His poker face faded. His emotions became more bare, yet they remained honest to his personality. It wasn't a complete one hundred and eighty degrees change like he would usually experience. He was in control, but at the same time, not as much as he'd like.

Feeling this, and noticing his senses sharpening ever so slightly Strange hold both the palms of his hands against his eyes, seemingly in a bit of pain, as if he experienced a normal headache or a migraine attack of the sort. But that wasn't it. His poker face showed a slight grin, his eyes seemed to contain a small spark, and his body language straightened up in every subtle way he could. He wasn't here to kid around. He wasn't here because Horatio wanted it. This was his moment. No crowds, no fans, no stage. He had to define himself. He had to make sure he was alive, that he was Strange, someone useful, someone recognizable. And this urge had driven him to do morally questionable things before.

With a quick jolt in posture Strange dropped his arm, and with the quite wicked expression that had slowly taken over his face he looked at the two creatures. His voice, as it began to speak, seemed to contain a less monotonous tone. Every now and then there was an unpleasant crackle, or a sudden stop where it shouldn't be. It was out of character, to say the least.

''A ransom you say? Now, I don't think the two of you vile little useless creates understand. I'm not here to negotiate, I'm here to demand. I'm not here to come and cuddle you off of these tracks. However, I'm quite unlike you two. I'm not some monster incapable of compassion, so I will give you one, but only one more chance before I will force you off of these tracks. And I'll tell you now, as a tiny little secret, I will rip your very beings from the soul that inhabits your pesky little bodies if you give me the chance, so either start running, or get the hell out of my way..''

It was crude, rude but also strange because although the words spoken were close to barbaric, the tone seemed nothing of the sort. It was told in a way one would scold children, though it lacked a sense of care. It was unlike Strange.

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