![Papa Snek's Honey-Do [Private//Exam] Empty](https://2img.net/i/empty.gif)
"The reputable aristocrat, John Timber, in Captial Crocus is known for his financial involvement with the local Rune Knights. In fact, he's funded much if what luxuries or conveniences they have now and has been showered with praise because of it. But one deed led to another and now the man is becoming politically involved with local politicians and leaders. Fortunately, his head would greatly push Basilisk Fang's agenda forward. Find and kill this man, whether it be through assassination or execution, and make certain the world knows about it!"
A young man made his way to the train station, alone for a change of pace. His team had stayed behind. Why? He had no idea, but the words Ahote had said to him that spurred this journey rang in his brain on repeat. Not because they held weight or anxiety, but simply because he didn't write it down. He couldn't go forgetting it now, nor would it do him any favors if he
Finally. Some real work. Iris had joined the ranks of Basilisk Fang to destroy the magic council and anything it had its claws in. He was aware that his hatred wasn't entirely rational. As far as he knew, there was only one person within the government responsible for the theft and destruction of him. It was an assumption that he'd have to go through the entire regime to find who he needed, since he didn't remember who had grieved him exactly. It was a mess. Not having a set target, but instead merely the a shadow to chase within a nightmare made the business tricky. His solution had been to just rain death upon it all until he looked into his own eyes. He'd know them anywhere, even if the self belonging to them was fuzzed out and detached from him. Yeah, try explaining any of that to another living being. Anyway, he'd messed around enough with his chaotic team, sniffing out alcohols to balm the issues that ailed each of them. Even if it meant being lonesome, it was time to start hammering the first nail.
The whole ride to the haughty Capital city was filled with silent musings and idle flirting with attendees. Most would abstain from alcohol consumption in the limited time leading up to an important task, but not Iris. These days, drink was a brain lubricant that allowed him to exist more clearly without the other crap bogging him down and gumming up his quickness on his mental feet. Essentially, despite sometimes having quite the opposite effect, a drink could calm his emotions, allowing for a clear mind. He'd need that here. Sliding feet along the trapeze thin line between too little and not enough was a science that he'd better have right, especially since the train was pulling into station.
The task itself wasn't complicated. There'd be security, but no one anticipated an all out attack by a lone dark mage. Times had been relatively peaceful in the last months. Muscles had relaxed. Extra security was expensive, and jewel talks and screams when parting from greedy fingers. Iris was as calculated as he was reckless. Intel spoke of a meeting being held today in the main hall. Local politicians and leaders...and John Timber. The urge to commit mass murder and deal a larger blow was strong, but that wasn't the instruction. Why should someone as chaotic as he care? Ahote had mentioned agenda. Reckless as he may be, taking down the magic council would requite help. Iris wasn't humble, but he also wasn't stupid enough to think he could do it by himself. Screwing up whatever it was Papa Snek had in mind would get him booted or killed, neither of which he was keen on until his revenge and retribution had been settled.
Not yet renown as anything other than a stunning lavender haired boy, traversing the streets of the town with his hands in his pockets was nothing more than a walk in the park. If only they knew the deviousness lurking behind his 'borrowed' eyes. The blood lust. The well-contained rage. The thirst for self-justice. People were so stupid and short sighted, taking their vision for granted. Why be able to see if they can't be bothered to notice the threat in front of their noses? Well, they'd notice today. Slipping into an alley, croissant being munched as if it was a leisurely visit, the ocular mage lurked on the scene ahead. Disclosed meeting places in the center of town in a clearly labeled buildings in completely predictable routines. Truly, why didn't more political leaders die? This all seemed very stupid, but as his opinion of such things was already in the gutter, perhaps he was jaded and biased.
Staring out, a crowd caught his eye. Whatever the meeting was about must be newsworthy, because there were several news crews with their intrusive lacrima cameras and mics and over-made TV reporters waiting at the base of the stairs. The building itself was exactly what imagined in regards to buildings meant to rich decision makers and mindless bickerers. White, four pillars on the front, useless second story with a half-moon balcony. Stately and boring. It needed a pinch of spice, some red accents to set it all ablaze. Iris could provide. The presence of camera toting witnesses should dissuade even those with the worst intentions, but not this man. He saw opportunity. Make certain the world knows about it!" Got it, boss.
Taking the maze-like back alleys around to the rear of the location, purple eyes were vigilant for Rune Knights. They were in John Timber's pocket due to all the hand outs, so there were sure to be more capable guards on duty. Chuckling darkly, it was fun to know no one would be watching for the coming shenanigans. Eerie pale eyes took violet's place, turning him a ghastly ghostly translucent. As a two knights turned on heel to march the opposite ways, this was the chance. Darting forward, apparition Iris phased right through the wall. Quickly zooming through the other walls in his way-- would that ever not feel freaky?-- his head popped into the main hall, open to the second story. Ew, he could smell the corruption and heresy from here. Pigs, the lot of them, fat on their power and far less tasty. Which little piggy was John...really, with all their jewel, they couldn't pay a proper tailor to fit them into those wasted expensive linens they poured into? Mouth twisted in disgust, Iris tutted and revealed himself. Being all horrifyingly spiritual, the gaggle glanced at him in rapture, wondering if drunkenness or stroke had tricked their eyes. But oh, no no! Iris had come to haunt!
Knowing how this forum usually twisted normies' knickers into a bundle, the Basilisk Fang members wasn't too worried. Shifting his appearance a little, within seconds he was opening a fanged maw belonging to an angler fish, hissing a morally depraved "BOO!" at the room's inhabitants. A few of the poor blowhards passed out! He cackled in glee, eating up the fear that froze the rest of them. It never got old. The tubby one in the middle, nearly completely bald but hosting most of his hair growth in two wooly eyebrows and a mustache in a flaxen blond. Unpleasant greasy skin and general appearance aside, his fearsome eyes zeroed in on the peepers. There was always a change that a job, no matter how important, would lead him to a target with bum eyes. But these...these were oceanic. Clear blue skies radiating the edges, while a stormier hue closed in around inky pupils. Simply beautiful. Would they have any potential? No idea, but at least they weren't sullied with glasses or obvious disease. "John Timber!" Boomed Iris, floating over. A cold spot formed on the trembling shoulder, his misty hand. Right. He needed to grab this guy. Swapping pale eyes for opal ones that rainbow glittered, a solid hand hauled the portly business man from his seat and dragged him to the stairs. "Today is your day to be a true star! Time to stand for something other than hot air and money."
The paralyzing fear had yet to wear off, so out onto the balcony! Jamming the door closed behind him, he faced out with his victim. Cameras flashed and reporters chattered, calling up questions about decisions he could care less about. It took them a good few seconds to realize something was up and fall into confused quiet. "Basilisk Fang is tired of your bullsh*t. This is the beginning~" the poster boy purred, whipping out his eye scoop. Before god and everyone, he deftly carved out the man's eyes and placed them into a jar. The screams, the blood that splattered his skin like a moisturizer, it brought a grin to his face. News crews filmed on dutifully and commented with morbid fascination. Rune Knights began to scramble like cockroaches in the sun, trying to formulate a plan that would stop this and win the day. It was too late for that. One banged the door behind him, but it'd be over before it could be broken. Whipping out Eyecatcher, with dramatic flair he snaked the blade across that jiggly throat, red misting the witnesses below and adding that much needed spice to everything. John's artery decorated the place up nice.
The door breaking behind him was his signal to go, so with a simple eye switch he was teleporting back down to the ground. Really, with all the mages who could teleport these days, why didn't they prepare for this? That wasn't his business, though. The less prepared, the easier it would be to destroy it all, right? A few more pops and he was in the alleys once more, making a mad dash for the train station before the city was locked up tighter than a banjo.
If the world didn't know Basilisk Fang was serious before, it did now.
[1667]
A young man made his way to the train station, alone for a change of pace. His team had stayed behind. Why? He had no idea, but the words Ahote had said to him that spurred this journey rang in his brain on repeat. Not because they held weight or anxiety, but simply because he didn't write it down. He couldn't go forgetting it now, nor would it do him any favors if he
Finally. Some real work. Iris had joined the ranks of Basilisk Fang to destroy the magic council and anything it had its claws in. He was aware that his hatred wasn't entirely rational. As far as he knew, there was only one person within the government responsible for the theft and destruction of him. It was an assumption that he'd have to go through the entire regime to find who he needed, since he didn't remember who had grieved him exactly. It was a mess. Not having a set target, but instead merely the a shadow to chase within a nightmare made the business tricky. His solution had been to just rain death upon it all until he looked into his own eyes. He'd know them anywhere, even if the self belonging to them was fuzzed out and detached from him. Yeah, try explaining any of that to another living being. Anyway, he'd messed around enough with his chaotic team, sniffing out alcohols to balm the issues that ailed each of them. Even if it meant being lonesome, it was time to start hammering the first nail.
The whole ride to the haughty Capital city was filled with silent musings and idle flirting with attendees. Most would abstain from alcohol consumption in the limited time leading up to an important task, but not Iris. These days, drink was a brain lubricant that allowed him to exist more clearly without the other crap bogging him down and gumming up his quickness on his mental feet. Essentially, despite sometimes having quite the opposite effect, a drink could calm his emotions, allowing for a clear mind. He'd need that here. Sliding feet along the trapeze thin line between too little and not enough was a science that he'd better have right, especially since the train was pulling into station.
The task itself wasn't complicated. There'd be security, but no one anticipated an all out attack by a lone dark mage. Times had been relatively peaceful in the last months. Muscles had relaxed. Extra security was expensive, and jewel talks and screams when parting from greedy fingers. Iris was as calculated as he was reckless. Intel spoke of a meeting being held today in the main hall. Local politicians and leaders...and John Timber. The urge to commit mass murder and deal a larger blow was strong, but that wasn't the instruction. Why should someone as chaotic as he care? Ahote had mentioned agenda. Reckless as he may be, taking down the magic council would requite help. Iris wasn't humble, but he also wasn't stupid enough to think he could do it by himself. Screwing up whatever it was Papa Snek had in mind would get him booted or killed, neither of which he was keen on until his revenge and retribution had been settled.
Not yet renown as anything other than a stunning lavender haired boy, traversing the streets of the town with his hands in his pockets was nothing more than a walk in the park. If only they knew the deviousness lurking behind his 'borrowed' eyes. The blood lust. The well-contained rage. The thirst for self-justice. People were so stupid and short sighted, taking their vision for granted. Why be able to see if they can't be bothered to notice the threat in front of their noses? Well, they'd notice today. Slipping into an alley, croissant being munched as if it was a leisurely visit, the ocular mage lurked on the scene ahead. Disclosed meeting places in the center of town in a clearly labeled buildings in completely predictable routines. Truly, why didn't more political leaders die? This all seemed very stupid, but as his opinion of such things was already in the gutter, perhaps he was jaded and biased.
Staring out, a crowd caught his eye. Whatever the meeting was about must be newsworthy, because there were several news crews with their intrusive lacrima cameras and mics and over-made TV reporters waiting at the base of the stairs. The building itself was exactly what imagined in regards to buildings meant to rich decision makers and mindless bickerers. White, four pillars on the front, useless second story with a half-moon balcony. Stately and boring. It needed a pinch of spice, some red accents to set it all ablaze. Iris could provide. The presence of camera toting witnesses should dissuade even those with the worst intentions, but not this man. He saw opportunity. Make certain the world knows about it!" Got it, boss.
Taking the maze-like back alleys around to the rear of the location, purple eyes were vigilant for Rune Knights. They were in John Timber's pocket due to all the hand outs, so there were sure to be more capable guards on duty. Chuckling darkly, it was fun to know no one would be watching for the coming shenanigans. Eerie pale eyes took violet's place, turning him a ghastly ghostly translucent. As a two knights turned on heel to march the opposite ways, this was the chance. Darting forward, apparition Iris phased right through the wall. Quickly zooming through the other walls in his way-- would that ever not feel freaky?-- his head popped into the main hall, open to the second story. Ew, he could smell the corruption and heresy from here. Pigs, the lot of them, fat on their power and far less tasty. Which little piggy was John...really, with all their jewel, they couldn't pay a proper tailor to fit them into those wasted expensive linens they poured into? Mouth twisted in disgust, Iris tutted and revealed himself. Being all horrifyingly spiritual, the gaggle glanced at him in rapture, wondering if drunkenness or stroke had tricked their eyes. But oh, no no! Iris had come to haunt!
Knowing how this forum usually twisted normies' knickers into a bundle, the Basilisk Fang members wasn't too worried. Shifting his appearance a little, within seconds he was opening a fanged maw belonging to an angler fish, hissing a morally depraved "BOO!" at the room's inhabitants. A few of the poor blowhards passed out! He cackled in glee, eating up the fear that froze the rest of them. It never got old. The tubby one in the middle, nearly completely bald but hosting most of his hair growth in two wooly eyebrows and a mustache in a flaxen blond. Unpleasant greasy skin and general appearance aside, his fearsome eyes zeroed in on the peepers. There was always a change that a job, no matter how important, would lead him to a target with bum eyes. But these...these were oceanic. Clear blue skies radiating the edges, while a stormier hue closed in around inky pupils. Simply beautiful. Would they have any potential? No idea, but at least they weren't sullied with glasses or obvious disease. "John Timber!" Boomed Iris, floating over. A cold spot formed on the trembling shoulder, his misty hand. Right. He needed to grab this guy. Swapping pale eyes for opal ones that rainbow glittered, a solid hand hauled the portly business man from his seat and dragged him to the stairs. "Today is your day to be a true star! Time to stand for something other than hot air and money."
The paralyzing fear had yet to wear off, so out onto the balcony! Jamming the door closed behind him, he faced out with his victim. Cameras flashed and reporters chattered, calling up questions about decisions he could care less about. It took them a good few seconds to realize something was up and fall into confused quiet. "Basilisk Fang is tired of your bullsh*t. This is the beginning~" the poster boy purred, whipping out his eye scoop. Before god and everyone, he deftly carved out the man's eyes and placed them into a jar. The screams, the blood that splattered his skin like a moisturizer, it brought a grin to his face. News crews filmed on dutifully and commented with morbid fascination. Rune Knights began to scramble like cockroaches in the sun, trying to formulate a plan that would stop this and win the day. It was too late for that. One banged the door behind him, but it'd be over before it could be broken. Whipping out Eyecatcher, with dramatic flair he snaked the blade across that jiggly throat, red misting the witnesses below and adding that much needed spice to everything. John's artery decorated the place up nice.
The door breaking behind him was his signal to go, so with a simple eye switch he was teleporting back down to the ground. Really, with all the mages who could teleport these days, why didn't they prepare for this? That wasn't his business, though. The less prepared, the easier it would be to destroy it all, right? A few more pops and he was in the alleys once more, making a mad dash for the train station before the city was locked up tighter than a banjo.
If the world didn't know Basilisk Fang was serious before, it did now.
[1667]
![Papa Snek's Honey-Do [Private//Exam] 60728_s](https://signavatar.com/60728_s.gif )
