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    Milo in: Dirt & Ashes

    Lemony.Boy
    Lemony.Boy

    Player 
    Lineage : Brute of Fiore
    Position : None
    Posts : 189
    Guild : Errings Rising
    Cosmic Coins : 0
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Experience : 10,343

    Character Sheet
    First Skill:
    Second Skill:
    Third Skill:

    Milo in: Dirt & Ashes Empty Milo in: Dirt & Ashes

    Post by Lemony.Boy 21st June 2020, 4:50 pm

    As soon as Milo caught the letter, he laughed. The matter itself was humorous; how could anyone, especially a ‘young aspiring mage’ from Shirotsume. It was ridiculous, ludicrous almost, but Milo was in the need for some entertainment, and felt sprang up to the challenge. Though Shirotsume was not his favorite place in the world, being too cold and windy for his liking, he packed himself a hip flask filled with fiery fluids.

    He zipped himself up in his battle suit and brushed his mangy hair. In the dark of his room, the glow from his tattoos illuminated the walls. Moving stars and crescent moons danced across the ceiling. He reached out with his hand and opened his wardrobe door, then pulled his striped bubble jacket from within. The coat billowed and wrapped around his arms and shoulders with silky ease. He picked up his mask as he made his way towards the balcony door, clipping it to the side of his jacket. The wind kicked up and tousled his hair when Milo stepped outside, and the cold night air shocked his bare toes. The mage briefly crouched low, then erupted into the sky like a comet. A glowing trail of stardust followed him, changing from pink to blue as he climbed higher in the sky. The moon followed him, waning and shining like a dim candle across the country.

    The towns below were all extinguished, as the quiet homes were all asleep by now. Milo followed the coastline until he could see the mountains. He dipped his toes in the ocean water, causing the algae to glow as he passed by. The light mage twirled as he soared, never tired of the sensation of flying. The temperature dropped as he followed a river inland, and Milo took a sip of his fiery whisky with each terrain change. On the banks below, he could see the passing onlookers gaze up in curiosity and fear. For those who knew what a cyan trail in the midnight sky meant, they said a prayer and shut their lights off. Milo always appreciated the gesture. Knowing he was well known across the land gave him a thrill. He flicked light from his wrist and cast it across the river, sending glowing star light like a firework over the forest. Owls fled their perches and indiscernible shapes skittered about the trails.

    As he neared Shirotsume, he felt an odd sense of deja vu. The odd familiarity caused an intense migraine, and he landed at the foot of an old manor, covered in dust and ash. Magical residue was embedded in the ground, and Milo could feel the memories of his old self bubbling beneath the surface. A splitting headache rang like a bell between his temples, and he knelt to the ground and screamed. He chugged his whisky and casted the Dying Star around himself. Hellish cinders and a torrent of flame surrounded him, and Milo sent the fire into the air, crackling the manor before him and causing it to crumble.

    He was able to save himself with telekinesis, and stood out in the cold, silent for a couple minutes and eyes shut. The intense migraine slowly departed, and Milo realized that Shirotsume must have been an important location to him in his past life. There were few other times that this has happened, but Milo was able to suppress the thought successfully each time. When he opened his eyes, he could see a small mob of people up ahead. Not mages, but they outnumbered Milo startlingly. They were mostly burly, strong looking older men, but had no magical frequency to them. Milo rolled his eyes and approached them.

    “Evenin’ ge-ge-gentlemen,” he chirped and waved his flask at them. “Ou-Ou-Out for an evening stroll I take it?”

    They stopped in their tracks. “You must be lost.” Two of the men apprehensively sized Milo up and down, rolling up their sleeves.

    “Indeed I am, I was hiking and l-l-lost track of time, perhaps you could help me find my way back.” Before they could answer, one of the other followers whispered in the lead’s ear, and Milo rolled his eyes and sighed. The lead returned his focus to Milo, and rolled his sleeves up.

    “You better get lost right now,” he said, and produced a club from his shoulder strap.

    Milo scowled and grit his teeth. “Make me.”


    [733/7000]
    Lemony.Boy
    Lemony.Boy

    Player 
    Lineage : Brute of Fiore
    Position : None
    Posts : 189
    Guild : Errings Rising
    Cosmic Coins : 0
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Experience : 10,343

    Character Sheet
    First Skill:
    Second Skill:
    Third Skill:

    Milo in: Dirt & Ashes Empty Re: Milo in: Dirt & Ashes

    Post by Lemony.Boy 26th July 2020, 10:34 pm

    With a blinding flash, Milo briefly cast the Ultimate Unison and radiated light across the mountainside.  He quickly disengaged it and swung his arm in a gravity defiant arch.  Having incapacitated his foes with a theatrical flare, he followed with the lethal, intangible Vertebral Slice.  The frontliners of the group collapsed, unable to stand.  Milo picked them up with telekinesis and threw them aside, approaching the larger, more resilient followers with the Moonrock Sickle.  His lithe body burned through the air and crossed the negative space like a dart, and his weapon left no trace of a cut behind.  The henchmen simply fell in pieces, eyes open and unaware, and Milo continued to walk down the mountain.

    A lit pathway eventually formed, as the tiny torches kept the ground mostly melted and clear.  Snowdrops lined the mountainside here, and Milo picked a few of them for novelty’s sake.  Shirotsume was in sight now, as well as a large group of people on horseback arriving from a different path.  Milo hid his sickle and approached cautiously; these guys appeared to be much stronger than the last group.  He could sense a stronger foe deep inside Shirotsume as well, radiating with a magical presence.  For now, Milo masked his powers to avoid unwanted attention, and made his way around the side of the village to enter inconspicuously.

    Even in the midst of a snowstorm, the village was in fair shape and slightly warm.  The plazas and verandas were lined with cozy flames, and the shacks sold fiery whisky and other fine drinks.  Milo paid close attention to the culture, eyeing the people dancing and most importantly, the group he was after.  Although he got some suspicious looks from passersby, he paid no mind to them.  They were fairly gained; his blank eye and tattoos and his shiny skin.  Children thought of him as an elfen creature or a goblin, both of which Milo laughed at.  As he neared a group of angry protestors, excitement synthesized in his veins.  His heart felt like a caged hound, awaiting the kill order.

    But Milo considered himself classier than that.  These were just mere civilians protesting the sheer power of dark guilds in Fiore.  Milo could very well toss them all into the air like an orca with a seal, but there was no need and no fun involved.  These people posed no threat to him on their own, and so he decided to give them a fright instead. Though, before he could raise his hands to summon his awful light, a younger looking man on horseback arrived and murmured something in one of the protestor’s ears.

    “They were all slaughtered on the mountainside…”

    “All of them?”

    “Eviscerated. Unmoving.  Their eyes were singed.  Skin was burned.”

    “I thought I saw a comet fly over earlier, but it looked like a person.  Do you think…”

    “Just be cautious.  End the night early if you have to.”

    Milo reverted to the cover of a column, watching the crowd and avoiding unwanted attention.  He was sure they were talking about the graveyard he’d made of the mountain trail; the bodies and limbs buried in the snow.  They would be left there to freeze over until the spring or until they were found. Either way, Milo had disposed of them without an ounce of effort.  He could level this town, and as much as he wanted to, there was no need yet.  Milo wanted to snuff out this ‘young and aspiring’ mage before anything.  For now, he figured he would enjoy the amenities before adequately rattling everything.

    The smells were intoxicating.  Roasted elk on skewers, spiced with more than just salt and pepper.  The meats had somewhat of a sweet, tart scent, and incense filled the air of the night.  Milo flashed his most shiny jewels and left more than necessary on the tabletops.  It was the least he could do.  Though they lacked the bite of alcohol, the drinks were sweet and frothy, cold but with spicy heat.  A child walked up to his side, and Milo gave him a few jewels for his pocket, and he then ran over to the bard to deposit the money into his saxophone case.  Then came a little girl with snowdrops in her hand, all blue in hue.  Milo recalled that he had found a golden one earlier, and plucked it from his pocket.  Although a bit crumpled, Milo adjusted the leaves with telekinesis and hovered it before the child’s eyes.  Her pupils grew with fascination, and Milo snickered.  He let the flower fall into her open hands, then showed her another one of his party tricks.  With a street magician’s grace, he opened his hands and formed a hand-sized crystal of Adam’s light.  It flickered inside with the reflection of the torches that lined the streets.  Milo deposited in her hand and pointed to the people with signs.

    “A present, for their hard work,” he called it, and set her off.

    The child excitedly ran over to show off what Milo had given her, and the protestors accepted the gift with a bit of trepidation.  The child then quickly ran off with the other adolescents, and Milo smugly grinned.  He ordered more food, as well as the herbs and nectar used to make the sauce, storing it a burlap sack in his coat pocket: souvenirs.  He found a perch above everything, watching as the woman holding Adam’s light asked her comrades what the thing was.

    And all it took was a blink.  Sun colored shrapnel multiplied and littered the walls of the plaza.  A fiery flash of enchanted light entered the eyes of all the shopkeepers, children and passersby.  Milo chuckled and descended from his perch into the fray.  They cleared the plaza in an instant, leaving behind only the stronger looking fellows.  They grunted and their eyes adjusted to Milo’s pale form hovering above the ground.  The bulkier group collectively charged at Milo and did their best to subdue him, but the mage was much too fast.  They tripped over themselves, crashing into retaining walls and fountains.  Milo laughed, lips unable to frown in the moment.  He karate chopped the back of their necks, incapacitating them, and allowed the runners to escape, following at a casual trot for a pace.

    As he crossed an alleyway, a molten sword flew past his face and skewered a planted tree.  “Hey!” she shouted, and Milo turned to her with a bored smile.  She reached her hand out and recalled her sword, which Milo parried with his sickle.  It spun midair before returning to her hands, and Milo pointed his blade at her neck from afar, inviting her to fight.

    [1849/7000]

      Current date/time is 5th November 2024, 5:02 pm