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Welcome to Year Eight

"Love keeps her in the air when she oughta fall down, tells you she's hurtin' fore she keens. Makes her a home."

Year Eight and Still Flyin'! Thank You, Everyone!

Pages: (3) 1 2 [3]  ( Go to first unread post )

 Treetop Villages
Posted: Sep 8 2010, 02:53 PM


Group: NPC
Posts: 9
Member No.: 902
Joined: 29-January 09

"After noticing his strength, I hired him, not realizing his mental deficiency until later. He's one of my crew."

Patim nodded slowly, gently, her drapes falling once more over her scarred visage, hiding the hideousness of her form, if not that in her heart. "Care for him well," And her eye strayed it's pale glance to the huge man, "Ever an asset may not know his own means."

Glancing past him, she saw Wing moving at last, and cringed, starting to shake her head 'no', to hold the moment at bay for another breath.

And then the sound rang through the trees, the scream of desperation, of freedom being stripped away. Slavers.

Patim cursed herself as she leaped back from Rahl just as Wing closed for the attack. Paranoia was her servent, that which dressed and fed her, and she had all but resigned it when faced with her past. Diving to the wall of rough-woven entwined branches, she grabbed the bell-rope, yanking with her all her might, sending the claxon through the tree-tops.

Children and mothers scampered for the hiding places, and able fighters scrambled to aid their fellows.

Patim's machete was drawn from her back-sling and in her hand without forethought, her other hand reaching for her dagger.

Sidling past the fighting leaders, she blocked the door to the ladders, blades at ready...
Posted: Sep 8 2010, 03:06 PM

The Bridge

Group: OC
Posts: 40
Member No.: 579
Joined: 27-March 08

Bayttee leaped to her feet as the world exploded into fury.

The first comer dove at her waist, thinking, apparently , to bear her back and through the thin walls to fall to the ground. He hadn't taken into account her greater mass and she stood unmoving as he ploughed into her.

They grappled, hand to hand, before she managed to get a grip around his waist and toss him away from her.

"MICHAEL! The door! Clear the door!"

Snapping her hand into her bag, she whipped out her pistol, aiming a clearing shot towards the scarred woman she had only moments before felt such pity for. Still did. Bayttee's suspicions had been confirmed, but they needed to get out of here. Alive. And with a minimum of harm to these people if at all possible.

Her finger clicked on the trigger.

Nothing happened.

Snapping the revolver open she discovered that it had been emptied sometime during the night. Swearing bitterly, Bay found herself assaulted from behind, someone's weight nearly dragging her to the floor. "DREW, my gun's empty! Nichole! We've got to get of here! Just run! Get back to the ship!"

Her attacker had hands around her throat and Bayttee threw herself backwards, the floor shuddering under the impact as she bore both her own weight and her attackers to the ground in hopes of squashing something vital in her opponent.

Michael O'Shea
Posted: Sep 9 2010, 10:09 AM


Group: Members
Posts: 19
Member No.: 769
Joined: 30-September 08


He heard the shout just as the painkillers were really starting to take effect, the smile lingering on his lips even as he saw people start to move in the treetop hut. Suddenly, Rahl and the tribal leader were gone, in the moment it had taken Mike to blink and he heard more shouts, but couldn't make them out. Had someone said something about killing? And running? Wait...

"MICHAEL! The door! Clear the door!"

Had slavers landed? Lucky bastards must have followed them in and avoided the mines Atillian had blow on her way here. But then why were the villagers attacking Baytee? And why was the medic shouting at him to get the door cleared? Rutt it, those painkillers worked quickly, Mike thought as he slowly got to his feet, his muddled brain trying to work out what had happened.

Slavers... Waitaminute... But there was no time to finish the thought as a strong body crashed into him, flooring him with ease, punching the breath out of his lungs and sending a surge of adrenaline through his veins that cleared his head long enough to send an indisputable message to his muscles: Fight!

"DREW, my gun's empty! Nichole! We've got to get of here! Just run! Get back to the ship!"

He brought his knee up, not knowing if his attacker was male or female, but aimed for the groin anyway, while his right hand shot up toward the villager's temple. He felt his knee connect at the same time his knuckles smashed into bone, but the only reaction it produced were a grunt and then he felt sharp-nailed fingers wrapping around his throat with such strength that all Mike could do was flail against the attacker's body, screaming and yelling to get the attention of someone - anyone - who might help him.
Posted: Sep 12 2010, 09:09 AM

Acquired taste-like pickled pig's feet

Group: Forum Moderators
Posts: 113
Member No.: 339
Joined: 27-May 07

The secret was out - and that was the very least of Rahl's problems. Passengers could still be lied to, once everyone made it through this alive. As Wing pulled the blade free of his arm and sprang for another attack, a blade in each hand, Rahl acted automatically, grabbing the ex-slave by the shoulders and trying to force him to the ground. The knives jabbed a quick one-two towards his face, forcing him back and catching low on his wrist instead. Crimson liquid was ignored, both fighters bleeding now. All Rahl thought of was his ship, his crew.

To get off this rock, he had to get through Wing, had to get away from this skilled fighter who, no doubt, had plenty of others at his command to help track them on this unfamiliar planet assuming he couldn't do the job himself. Ziyou's leader was driven back as Rahl, unarmed, drove forward with bare hands and fists. Overhead, a claxon of bells refused to fade, the sound bringing a smile to Wing's face. "My people are safe, Captain. Can you say the same of yours?"

Rahl felt his jaw flex and tighten, as he struggled not to rise to the bait. Banter was a waste of energy, a beginner mistake, a distraction he couldn't afford until he got a knife back in his hand. Cold blue eyes stayed on his opponent as chaos continued to reign overhead. How many of them would make it out? What if they didn't?

"You look tired." Wing's voice was low, soft; it had taken on a hypnotic quality. "How long did you say you've worked with them? You still don't trust all of them, do you? This whole problem will go away if you let the people in your hold go free." Wing dodged another set of blows, smiling, a viper ready to strike. "I will let you and your people go free if you release those slaves."

Tempting. Lies. So tempting. Rahl backed up a few feet, circling; Wing mirrored the move, both searching, one for an opening, the other for answers, both for weakness. "Your crew won't last, you know. Not under your leadership. You drive them too hard. They carry too many secrets. I've told you this and you refused to listen. Are you still so stubborn, Captain?" As one, they moved in again, hit and strike and block, a dozen of each, another portion of the dance before moving apart again. Bruises would blossom on both bodies soon enough. Blood and adrenaline continued to pump as they circled again. Cuts, some razor thin, others deeper, bled slowly; one knife was embedded in Rahl's chest, making it hard to breathe. The blade, he knew without seeing, had pierced the healing 1, the warning The Lads had left him. It was time for plan B. It was time to leave.

Rahl circled slowly, working to ignore the feel of a weight pushing on his chest. As soon as he knew, once he was sure his sense of direction was right, Rahl turned his back and ran. Tearing through the trees, away from the treehouse, Rahl flew for his ship, Wing pounding steadily behind him.
The Breeze
Posted: Sep 16 2010, 02:57 PM

A little nutty

Group: Members
Posts: 161
Member No.: 340
Joined: 29-May 07

The Breeze tried to get out of the way, to get up, to run, but it was like slow motion, like when a message got rutted up on the 'tex and everything spun down until she moved like she was underwater and Robin, everything, sounded like a foghorn in Arabic. But, really, it went so fast that the only real, conscious thought her brain got off was how much it hurt as Robin fell upon her, lifting her skin from beneath and making The Breeze bury her face in the dirt and just hold on, trying not to let the scream go, trying to stop shaking, because if she did, it was going to hurt. She could feel it now. Welling up in her throat, something raw and overwhelming and broken. If she let it out, it'd-

She heard the cracking sound first, and wondered what it was in the split second before everything lit up with fire, burned hot and then cold as the force of another blow passed through Robin and slammed into her as she lay bleeding out on the jungle floor.

A thousand years and a few seconds later The Breeze became aware, dimly conscious of the growing coldness of the world, of the way her own heartbeat had drowned out her capacity for all other sound, of the way her entire vision burst wide in an instant, then tunneled slowly down and down and down to seep into the leaf matter. The way her fingers touched metal.

She opened her eyes. It was a struggle because it felt like her face was weighed down with lead, sluggish and unresponsive. It. The part. It was still, somehow, nestled in the red mass of pulp, it's brassy whorls the only thing resembling a sun in sight. The Breeze looked down at the part and felt like the world was spinning, she was going to fall over because she couldn't breathe. She thought she heard wings.

Then she thrust the red-hot chunk of metal into Robin's face.

This post has been edited by The Breeze on Sep 16 2010, 02:59 PM
Posted: Jan 27 2011, 03:38 PM


Group: NPC
Posts: 8
Member No.: 1,029
Joined: 23-November 09

Robbin rolled backwards as Breeze thrust the heavy hot metal towards his face in desperation. Fast, but not quite fast enough. It struck his chest, just at the v of his leather vest. The impact itself was a horse-kick that knocked his breath from his lungs, but the metal, dry hot from the forge, sizzled as it shredded a long strip of flesh from him.

His scream of anger echoed, the roar of a wounded lion.

The agonizing pain reeled him away from her, his hand automatically reaching to touch the brand and then drawing away again. The little beast was finished anyway, he decided, for all her fiest and violence, she wouldn't last long bleeding like that.

With another primal roar, pain melding with sinew, he turned to run for the tree-flets where the sounds of fighting could be heard.

And fell senseless to his knees as something clubbed him from behind.
Posted: Jan 31 2011, 08:00 AM

The Bridge

Group: OC
Posts: 40
Member No.: 579
Joined: 27-March 08

In the sweltering jungle-green of Ziyou, Teelah Baynes stood over Robbin's fallen form, the wooden club she'd scooped up heavy in her hand.

Minutes prior:

Michael's screams for help renewed Bayttee's strength and she dove from under her attacker, grabbing them around the waist and using her considerable body-weight to launch them away from her and over the edge of the treehouse. The nurse tried not to think about the grinding thump that followed. Please don't let them be dead, she prayed, even as she dashed to Michael's rescue.

He'd gotten himself dunked under by two locals. Worst part was, Bayttee knew the guy didn't deserve it. He was just a passenger who happened to get on the wrong ship.

Like she was?

Arms flinging, she strode into the mess, pulling hair, grabbing clothes, anything to get a grip on the attackers and shove them away from them.

Grabbing up Michael, she winced at the claw-marks and bruises on his face. Without thinking, she yanked him to his feet, not releasing him as she ran for the ladder and unceremoniously dumped him down it in front her. Gorram. For a skinny bony guy he was heavier than he looked!

Hitting the ground, she yelled "RUN", shoving him after Drew and the others.

Hearing the already injured Breeze scream, she turned that direction and came into the clearing just in time for Robbin's retreat.

"Sorry about this." She whispered, more to herself than to the man, as she clubbed him over the head. Bay cringed,avoiding glancing down at the form in the dirt. Hopefully she'd managed to anything resembling brain damage...

Scooping Breeze, still clinging to the necessary part, she hoisted her over her shoulder in a fireman's carry and ran for the ship.


Post approval and GM permission given by Taokan & Charlie.
The Atillian
Posted: Jan 31 2011, 08:31 AM

Bad and lovin' it

Group: Forum Moderators
Posts: 27
Member No.: 338
Joined: 27-May 07

The crew of The Atillian has all returned, battered but unbroken, to The Atillian.

In their wake, they leave anger and desperate fear. Ziyou's people, who have eked out a meager existance on this forgotten, inhospitable world, have been compromised.

The universe has shown them the worst faces of mankind: The faces of those those who put a price on a human being. They survived, they escaped, and they found refuge in the sweltering deadly jungles and black sand plains. Now a slave ship has come among them and managed to escape again, threatening their way of life, their very freedom.

But perhaps in Patim's honest words, in the demonstration of care and aid to these people, they have struck a chord. A chord that will resonate: that will find it's way to the darkest places of the hearts of the Atillian crew.

Perhaps, though the encounter ended in senseless and inhumane violence, these strugglers for freedom have managed to light a spark.

Here ends the Atillian's encounter with Ziyou. Any further posting takes place at the ship.
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