Death and Taxes (Private Hard Event)

This is where the hard laborers put forth their skills and craft in constructing everyday commodities and goods. Ships arrive to the ports weekly dropping off raw goods and shipping out finished products.
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Ciara Megido
Villain
Posts: 85
Joined: Sat Jun 27, 2015
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Weapon: Maidens
Semblance: Passage

Death and Taxes (Private Hard Event)

Post by Ciara Megido » Tue May 24, 2016

She couldn’t go home could she? This was it, the end of what her father had left her. He was lucky that he was dead, the loss of his shop would destroy him. Ciara supposed, he also would not entirely understand her work. A maiden had to pay a price, and this was a case where it was steep indeed. Nothing stopped time though. Nothing stopped death. She had a job to do, and she would do it without fail. This man, Alistair, had to be ended. It was unfortunate really. He seemed like a reasonable man, a good man. Yet, time did not care who was what or what was who. Men died, good or bad. If life were to be so specific to only target the evil then the world would be filled with nothing but the righteous. Then, those righteous would be divided again amongst themselves as to who was the most righteous, and who the evil compared to others. As it was to her to do her duty and carry on the wishes of time.

Alistair Javal, he would be arriving soon, likely not alone either. Ciara had been watching him, stalking him. She knew he was aware of it too. The man was playing a game with time. It was, kind of fun in all honesty. The back and forth brought a smile to her pale cheeks in the bitter night. It had been a long time since somebody was fun with their time. Since somebody did not fight tooth, claw, and nail; instead with wit, cunning, and curiosity. He hated her, she knew it full well. The man had every reason too, she was a killer, and him a protector of the peace. If only the man understood that what she did was the peace of the world. Many were not privy to the knowledge of time and her ladies words though. They could not be held truly to the guilt of this ignorance. Living beings loved thinking themselves different from dead ones.

“I guess the fun is over.” Whispering to herself, the woman watched out over the wharf. A truly perfect place to face off against the man of justice and his crew. She had read this in many a book. The wharf among the industry was often the death of stalwart detectives and investigators. It was a kindness to the man in his final hours she would give. Something that the intelligent man would understand she planned for him. As the water cracked upon the rocks and rotting wood, the scent of fish wafting amongst the air, the moon shone in the killer’s eyes. If all went well, perhaps she could make it home to save some of her stuff. That would be nice. The sirens in the distance only served to try and crush this hope, but she was a hopeful girl none the less. Repositioning herself on the rooftop, the concrete crunching under foot, she cracked her neck, smiling “Alright, come on, one of us only has so much time.”.


NPC Spawn
Turrets 4
Rng: 20
Def: 20
Spd: 20
HP: 350
Mounted: The turrets can not dodge attacks
On Target: The Turrets will only attack Alistair every turn until he is dead

((Everyone admitted to this event knows the rules. You have one week to post on your turn and if you do not you can be skipped. Being skipped more than once can result in being kicked from the event and losing all potential rewards. Alistair will also control himself for this event))
"In our story I do not narrate, I just fill in the margins."

Death and Taxes (Private Hard Event)

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Alistair Javal
1st Semester
Posts: 8
Joined: Sun Feb 28, 2016
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Weapon: Triumvirate Justice
Semblance: Nemesis

Re: Death and Taxes (Private Hard Event)

Post by Alistair Javal » Wed May 25, 2016

After the incident of last year's summer festival that resulted in the disappearance of one of Beacon's students, he'd taken a personal interest in this case. Had he not been injured at the time, he may have been able to capture her then. Nearly every attempt to pin down the woman who'd attempted murder that day had met with little luck. Her image had even been warped in the security footage that had caught the scene. If not for the fact that several huntsmen in training had failed to apprehend her, he'd have taken a guess she had an active aura and semblance, something that made it difficult to hold her image. It wasn't unusual for people of that type to turn to theft, but this one went a step further. It had reminded him of the case he'd been trying for so long to solve. This woman certainly wasn't the culprit, she was far too young, but he would bring her in before she followed in that person's footsteps.

He'd suspected this woman for months and had caught glimpses of her from the corner of his eye during the investigation. He'd considered it a stroke of luck that the woman matching the eyewitness descriptions had been following him. If not for her interest in the investigation, he'd certainly not have come this far. It was a game to her and he had no doubt that she had been leading him into a trap, but he wasn't about to repeat his mistakes. Temptation to contact Vallery had been put aside. He'd come to rely on her too often, nor was he about to take the satisfaction from those at Beacon who may have been friends of the students who'd been injured by her before, so he'd called in a favor. A team of students who might be capable of handling this woman's skill. He confident it was the right choice. If he fought her alone, the best he could hope for would be her death if she'd chosen to fight, but with allies it would be more likely that they could subdue her and let her face justice. His instructions had been simple enough. "We want to bring her in alive. You each know how best to do that with your skills, don't let me down."

Ciara's trail had lead him to a lesser used section of the docks, where concrete landings gave way to brittle wood. Alistair took a deep breath as he pulled took his rifle into hand. He could feel eyes on him, watching him again. The same presence he'd felt whenever he'd spotted the girl watching him before. If she was watching him she wasn't running. If this was a trap this was the place, but if she had just been running, she was likely to give up. The moonlight did little to reveal her position to him. Either way, he knew the students were nearby and ready to take action. Still, it was his duty to give her a chance to submit. "Ciara Megido! I know you're here. We can save both of us some time and trouble if you just turn yourself in. We'd rather no one get hurt, including you!" In most circumstances he'd be loath to give away his position, but she couldn't get away now without alerting the students or himself. She may not be surrounded, but it wasn't easy to get away from five people trained by Beacon.

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Jim Lavay
4th Semester
Posts: 712
Joined: Sun Oct 25, 2015
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Weapon: Ruin (Left) and Restoration (Right)
Semblance: Adrenaline Rush (Unending Fury)

Re: Death and Taxes (Private Hard Event)

Post by Jim Lavay » Wed May 25, 2016

As the van arrived at the docks. Jim as quietly as possible, which is no easy feat when wearing nearly 600 pounds of weapons and armor exited the van, and began making his way down the docks towards the rendezvous point. The team had made no qualms about it he was to be their tank, or dude in front if you will. The armored warrior unsheathed his swords as he heard Javal's arrival it was almost game time. Taking a few slow deep breaths he was currently in the calm before the storm. He couldn't help but to take a moment to think about how he had even gotten caught up in this predicament in the first place. His day had started out so normal, normal class, normal vigilante justice, and then it took quite the left turn...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mr. Lavay... You have no idea how much trouble you are in." Jim knew at some point if he continued his career as the masked vigilante this was bound to happen. On the other side of the table across from him sat a cop who must of been in his late 40's. Clearly a veteran on the force to say the least. "It's funny you had a lot to say earlier" The officer paused for a brief moment staring down the student who sat there in cuffs. "Alright fine, let me start..." As he pulled out a notepad and began reading. "Trespassing, assault, battery, vigilantism, two counts of major property damage, including my favorite by the way throwing a car at someone, and evading arrest."

The officer continued to ramble on, but Jim was to far in his own head to really listen. He had been stuck between a rock, and a hard place while chasing down two kidnappers. When the police intervened there was no other option after a brief pursuit he was either going to have to fight the police, or turn himself in, naturally he picked the latter. "Mr. Lavay! Are you listening to me." With a deep sigh Jim was finally prepared to respond. "Listen officer, I am sorry for the things I did that hurt the innocent. However, if given the opportunity to do it all over again. Absolutely, I will always do anything in my power to bring evil people to justice." The cop leaned back in his chair crossing his arms. "You're nothing new. Every few years we get an idealistic kid like you who goes to Beacon, and then tries to police the streets. One way or another though they all end up arrested, hurting a bystander, or dead. I read in the paper about your little exploits, and even if your heart is in the right place vigilantism is just one short step away from Anarchy."

It was then, there was a knock on the interrogation room door. For a split second Jim considered breaking out of his cuffs, and making a run for it. Fortunately, though he thought betting knowing that would only make things far worse for him then they were before. As the officer stood up, and walked over to the door. Jim was barely able to take note of the person on the other side all he could see was that the guy was a little taller, and had gray hair. Then he heard the words "Are you kidding me... Letting him go..." Followed by a pause, and more muffled speech from out side the door.

With a nod the the interrogating officer shut the door, and returned to the table. "Well Mr. Lavay today is your lucky day." Jim couldn't believe what was happening did some miracle occur did he have some magical fairy god mother that was helping him. "I have been informed that one of our senior officers has been in talks with Beacon, and due to your insistence on putting criminals away plus your apparent prowess on the battle field. You have been selected to assist the department with a sensitive matter." Jim's eyes shot wide open was he really getting a job offer from the same officer who was just prepared to lock him up, and throw away the key. "The academy brought over your weapons, and armor. Apparently it took two people to lift each of your swords." He then paused and leaned forward. "So what will it be Prison or a Job?"

Jim lifted his head, tore off his handcuffs, and with a smirk said "I'm in!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After roughly an hour had gone by during which Jim had been briefing on the target, and the mission. He sat there in his recently reforged triple reinforced plate combat armor, and his freshly sharpened massive great swords cross sheathed on his back. There was always a nervous tension he felt when he put on his gear before an important mission he almost felt as though he was in a heightened state. However, his train of thought was broken by the arrival of the other student. They trickled in one by one he had seen most of them around at one point, or another. Fortunately, Beacon wasn't that big so even if you didn't know someone you had at least heard of them.

Once they were all there they met with the officer in charge of the operation, and after a brief pep speech the students were loaded into the back of an unmarked van. Their destination was the Vale docks in the industrial district, an area that Jim was familiar with. Growing up poor in Vale his sister had picked up an odd job there once to put food on the table. Even though formal introduction were conducted at the precinct he decided to ask "So, how did you all get roped into this?" They were only a few miles from the docks, but Jim figured he may as well use that time to get to know these guys a bit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jim Enters
Mle - 11 (55 Dmg)
Def - 11 (44/44)
Rng - 3 (9 Dmg)
Spd - 8 (8/8)
Aur - 6 (6/6)
Dst - 3 (3/3) - (12 Dmg)
HP - 300/300

(He will Enter Close Range of the Ciara)
Last edited by Jim Lavay on Tue Aug 02, 2016, edited 9 times in total.
Personal Motto: What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and nothing can kill me.
Favorite Quote: Maximum Effort!

Talking: ----- Thinking:

Jim's Theme Song : Indestructible : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4A3c2RKTJ4I

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Zaza Kuroda
4th Semester
Posts: 420
Joined: Wed Sep 09, 2015
Gender: Male
Race: Faunus
Weapon: Razorwind
Semblance: Fletcher

Re: Death and Taxes (Private Hard Event)

Post by Zaza Kuroda » Wed May 25, 2016

It was a sudden request given to Zaza. The basic trouble in town where a villain is terrorizing others and heroes need to put a stop to it. Zaza let out a sigh and leaned back on the bench he was sitting on. Right now Zaza was in the Academy Garden just minding his own business. "If I'm getting requested for something like this, that means who I'm going up against is strong" Zaza said to himself. He then snickered. "I might as well go for it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Apparently Zaza was at the meeting spot early. Either that or everybody else was late. It didn't bother him though. Zaza just kept quiet and would only speak to other officers if he was spoken to. To kill time, Zaza was sitting down on a folding chair just cleaning his weapon, Razorwind. He kept his mask off and his tail exposed so the other huntsman-in-training will know how he looks like once they arrive. Zaza also didn't put on his hand wraps just yet.

Luckily, just as Zaza finished cleaning his weapon, the other huntsman-in-training that were recruited showed up one by one. Zaza immediately sheathed Razorwind while its in its bow form and immediately stood up. The officer in charge would then show up to give a speech to everybody participating in this mission. The destination was the Vale docks which Zaza isn't completely familiar with. He has heard information about it while he was in the Industrial District though.

Zaza was in the van with everybody else to head towards their mission destination. He took this opportunity to put on his hand wraps. After the wrapping was finished up, Zaza tightened it as the finishing touch. Right afterwards, one of the students Zaza is teaming up with finally spoke. "Just a simple request from one of the teachers" Zaza responded. Fortunately for him, this student Zaza recognized. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm looking to have a successful day."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once the team arrived at their destination, they'd head out to their designated areas. Zaza was quietly following Jim, and while Zaza had no problem staying quiet, Jim sorta did. Zaza wasn't surprised since Jim was equipped with heavy armor., but it was still irritating to Zaza. Unfortunately, Zaza just had to cope with it. At least for now. When Jim unsheathed his swords, Zaza unsheathed his bow. He then formed an arrow and the bow's string. He drew the arrow so it'd be ready to shoot when Zaza needed to. Now, he waits.

-BREAKDOWN-
Zaza Kuroda
HP: 205/205
Mle: 10/10 (50 damage)
Def: 7/7 (28/28 Armor)
Rng: 12/12 (36 damage)
Spd: 14/14 (14/14 Evasion)
Aura: 8/8 (8/8 AP)
Dust: n/a

Zaza Enters (Close Range of Jim)
Last edited by Zaza Kuroda on Tue May 31, 2016, edited 1 time in total.
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Han Li Hong
3rd Semester
Posts: 237
Joined: Wed Nov 18, 2015
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Weapon: N/A
Semblance: Equilibrium

Re: Death and Taxes (Private Hard Event)

Post by Han Li Hong » Thu May 26, 2016

When they had been told that the mission would take place in the dockyards, Han had been unable to quell the unwelcome twinge of foreboding. The docks had always been a part of Vale which he had glossed over with a combination of bemused curiosity and reluctant ambivalence. The insatiable desire to learn about everything in the vicinity that usually accompanied his trips to Vale (and anywhere else, for that matter) had an inexplicable tendency to snag on a figurative fence when it came to this particular part of the industrial district. While it was true that the lonesome piers and the isolated, impassive warehouses he saw before him did not exactly inspire a fervor of interest at first glance, the chillingly unfamiliar sensation of ‘not wanting to know’ - even fleetingly - sparked in him a stubborn reaction to reach in and find something he wanted to know.

And yet, Han could not quite break free of the shadow cast by the knowledge of the history of criminal activity that was embedded in the salt-encrusted pavement beneath their feet. The usual voracity with which he took in information around him was here somewhat unbalanced by the impenetrable blankness that smothered the scene, and he could not stem the growing sensation that he would not enjoy digging beyond its depths. This was, after all, one of the gateways into the murky undergrowth of Vale’s organised crime operations - somewhere among these storage units and groaning ships were hidden key pieces of an underground game being played out between thieves and killers. These thoughts turned the towering maze of shipping containers and the restless sounds of the sea around him into a hostile labyrinth that had kept his senses lingering on the edge of caution from the moment he and the other members of the assembled force had been dropped off at their destination. As he moved into position besides the officer (Javert, if he recalled correctly) assigned to them, his fingers tapped a restless rhythm on his thigh as his eyes darted around behind his glasses uncertainly.

Han had responded with a vague kind of surprise upon being assigned the mission (technically speaking, he had been filled with an irrational sense of dread and unsolicited terror upon first receiving instructions to go see the member of staff who would be giving him the initial briefing - there had been very little detail in the message that had popped up on his scroll while he had been eating lunch and he spent the entire walk to the briefing room coming up with hypothetical reasons and misdeeds for which he might be punished, ranging from taking the second-to-last peanut butter cup from the dessert tray to causing the death of a local farmer’s two cows and his second cousin through a series of unfortunate misunderstandings that had been initiated by an innocent remark that yesterday’s milk had tasted a little off) which was completely understandable. He wasn't usually contacted to take on combat missions as his skill set wasn't exactly geared towards destroying things - there was a girl just in the next room who could level buildings with a wave of her magic wand-gun-thing who could tackle that kind of operation much better than he could. So it wasn't until he was told that the objective of the mission was the live capture of a human target that it started to click why they might've thought that Han could be up to the task.

Nevertheless, Han still had had his misgivings about the task in question, as he always did about things that involved combat. He didn't like taking on missions that involved him having to fight humans - he didn't even like fighting Grimm. If anything, there wasn't anything he inherently enjoyed about combat except for maybe the opportunity to learn new manoeuvres, refining control over his movements and techniques, and of course, seeing everyone come out the same way they went in. Maybe that was why he didn’t have a bombastic, building-leveling wand-gun attack of his own - his heart wasn’t really into that kind of thing. His thoughts wandered to the last time someone had commented on that approach:

"I don't know what you think this academy is for, but if you try that same style against that many opponents they are going to rip you limb from limb."

Perhaps she was right.

And yet here he was.

The night was unusually cold, considering the warmer weather they had been having lately. Han reasoned that this was most likely due to their close proximity to the cooler ocean air, and not because of some other, more ominously supernatural reason such as the silly idea that their surroundings were setting the scene for their untimely murder at the hands of a homicidal criminal psychopath, which was a very silly idea indeed. He wondered if the two fellow students stepping calmly into the darkness were feeling the same sense of uneasiness that had been picking at him since he had heard the mission would take place on the docks. He only somewhat recognised the boy in armour and had no clue who the archer was, but he was glad to have Conroe with them, if only for having some sort of familiar face in the team.

Perhaps he had picked up on his apprehensiveness, because upon stepping out of the vehicle, Conroe had slipped him a small white gemstone with a "F’ luck, eh?" and a passing grin. Han personally wished that they’d had more time for their preparations and sense of group dynamic to coalesce, but even though they were just in-training, the standards expected were those of professionals. Worrying that they hadn’t had more than a short trip to their destination to become best buddies was certainly not what they needed right now.

Besides, the journey in question hadn’t been an entirely successful social endeavour in any case - upon being asked how he’d gotten onto the mission, he’d ended up repeating the same reply he had given to the professor who had asked whether he would take the assignment:

Well… I mean, I was kinda just in the middle of eating my lunch, you see...

-STATS-
Han Li Hong
HP: 220/220
Mle: 3/3 (15 damage)
Def: 5/5 (20/20 Armor)
Rng: 0/0 (0 damage)
Spd: 8/8 (8/8 Evasion)
Aura: 12/12 (12/12 AP)
Dust: 0/0 (0/0 DP) (0 damage)

Han enters into same range as Javert (Javal).
#BF8080 - *Inside voice*
#BF4040 - OUTSIDE VOICE!!
Battle Theme: FALL - HanMusik
Extended Profile: 罕 栗 紅

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Conroe Milligan
4th Semester
Posts: 300
Joined: Sat Aug 23, 2014
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Weapon: Bat n' Watch
Semblance: Poofing

Re: Death and Taxes (Private Hard Event)

Post by Conroe Milligan » Tue May 31, 2016

A mass email went out to all available students who were deemed worthy and among their ranks was Conroe Milligan and Crow. The message in question was a call to action for the man hunt of the Clockwork Killer, a name with whom Conroe was familiar. Beyond the drunkard’s canonization of ‘Clockwork’ into the list of Valian characters (none of which could escape glamorization) was fragmented fact and it was from this that his impression of her stemmed. The Valian incident report, a database of all hunter-police reports made within Vale, and as Conroe was interested, it’s capital. The prospect of a new serial killer had caught his interest from the moment of its conception, this figure hooking him with its oddities, the first of which being its favoring young over old. It was as if it had a quota of “number of deaths” that were in direct proportion with rising age. There was no fathomable cause in sight that could explain both her approach and its murders, if they could even be called that. Conroe’s personal belief was that murder is a ‘human’ thing; and if the purpose was The Deed and that was The Death then where was the ‘humanity’? Killing for the sake of killing wasn’t a expression, in his eyes, it was an endless drive. And if anything, the Clockwork killer had proven itself to be apathetic.

Furthermore, her semblance was something that he feared, or would have. Throughout the year between the festival, from which most information on her semblance stemmed, and the present date, the reports on its deeds and camera feeds led him to conclude that it used her semblance in the only most primitive of ways. "Speed me up, Slow me down, Decay, Revert " these skills, while powerful in their own right, were likely as close to the source material as his poof was to the cloud, if the video distortion surrounding her was proof of anything. It was this bluntness that convinced him that the Clockwork Killer was either a thoughtless person or one whose perception was dulled, for Conroe knew that, had he been given her semblance instead of his own, far more could have been done. Then again, Conroe would not be Conroe without his semblance.

This image of the Clockwork Killer was why, when accepted into the man hunt and given the needed information in advance, he was startled from normalcy. The Clockwork Killer was just that, and even the name 'Ciara Megido' was too, but the face was more; the face belonged to someone he'd met, that quaint clock shop owner who reminded him of Timothy. Factually speaking, the match seemed to fit, and he had to admit that he could have subconsciously imposed Timothy's image upon her out of some subconscious search for comfort (as Aurora, his first true dance around death, was still heavy on his mind at the time). Even still, that woman and that title were incomprehensible twins. How could an artist, privy to best in people, inherently want to destroy them? He could not make sense of her; but regardless of how he saw it, the Clockwork rooted Megido, and he pitied her.

But the world moved on, and so did he. There was nothing more to think of Megido beyond preparation, and he'd a week's time for that. If he were to spend it pondering the whys within his daily ritual then he would be left anxious in anticipation for something that he would learn in a week's time regardless. Besides, Clockwork, despite all that it had done, was inconsequential. When the week passed and the criminal was apprehended he would still be a student, she would still be chiseled improperly, and the world would be just that. And so he shrugged off the subject for it's proper day, closed the email, and let the baseball game crackling out from his radio take center stage.
"Thanks f' droppin' me off," The motorcycle's resting 'put put' and he stepped out of it's sidecar and onto the sidewalk, the police station directly infront of them.
"No problem!" She saluted.
"Y'know, if there is one benefit t' bein' born dirt rich, it's that y'can inherit stuff like this," he patted the sidecar's frame.
"Dirt Rich? Isn't the saying 'dirt poor'?"
"Well, I'm bein' poetic," he slipped off his helmet.
"cawf" the Crow glided down to a perch on his shoulder.
"Whatever you say~"
"I do say...an' by-th-by, can I keep these goggles?" He pointed to the pair fastened to the helmet, "I know you don't particularly care for 'em-just th' helmet, and while I don't particularly care f'fashion, these are nice."
"Give me the Crow for a week and they're yours."
"caw!"
"A week? How about a day and an IOU f' somethin', whatever that somethin' might be."
"Welllllllll, I don't know"
"Heheh, I'll dress it up in it's Sunday best an' y'two can go on a date."
"Deal!"
"Deal"
"caw"
"Hey, that's Obsidian, isn't it?"
"Well it is. Heyo Siddy-boy! What brings y' t' th' station 've all places?"
"Graffiti."
"That makes sense."
"What are you two doing here?"
"I got a mission t'do an' all she was doin' was lounging about on her bunk."
"Yep!"
"A mission? With Javal by any chance?"
"Yeah, why'dj' ask?
"Two kids who were sitting in the waiting room got herded off in a brief room with him about....15 minutes ago."
"That don't make sense, we left early, I just checked th' time now-"
"Aww, sonuve'a...I just bought y', y' piece a' trash!"

"This is why you use your Scroll to check the time. Also, it's an inanimate object Conroe, not a 'you'."
"YOU'RE A INANIMATE ****ING OBJECT!"
caw "...What th'?"
"Movie reference" "Movie reference"
"Movie nuts"
"That we are. Are you headed home?"
"Yep, wanna hop on?~"
"Will-do, see you two later."
"Crawf"
"Same t'yself," Conroe passed Obsidian the helmet, goggles now about his neck.
"Bye-bye!~"
A quick sign-in at the reception and in a quick minute he was there. "Nice t' meet you lot, I'm Conroe Milligan, sorry f'my tardiness," he greeted, nodding at Han before finding own private spot to rest.

Han's presence was a surprise; from what Conroe understood Han and his locker-club would be useless against the nimble Clockwork Killer. Nonetheless, Han had been chosen just like them all. Conroe wouldn't belittle his teammates through uncertain assumption. Infact, looking at them then, he liked his team. They definitely could pack a punch, and even better, they could pool Clockwork's attention towards themselves, an important thing when apprehending Ciara depended so much on their ability to work around her reaction-time. He poofed the white gemstone to hand, a smaller piece than the one within his watch. The murky white which lingered in the first was on full display in it's twin. While no test trial, it would be interesting to see how the white fared against Ciara, as he was certain the gemstone would be a valuable tool. Only time would tell.
~~~~~~~~~
"Y'mean t'tell me I'm th' only one here who actually applied for this thing? Heheh, amazin'."
Conroe uses Stealth [-1 Aura]
~~~~~~~~~
And time told now, the long chase had reached it's end and the hunt had begun. He let the others proceed him, slinking off to the side and slipping Han the white gem with those comforting words. Every surprise against Clockwork counted, and it was easy to see her moving to take Han out first under the presumption that he was the weak link. On the subject of surprises, it was because of the threat they posed that he split off into the perimeter. His time was not to be on stage immediately after Ciara revealed herself, so what better use of it than to search for any clockwork abomination she might have hidden away? He doubted he would find any, but when his options were nothing and that, he would, at the very least, attempt to be productive. Though, he had to admit, it was very stupid to assume she wouldn't notice him. Fortunately, she seemed at least willing to talk, and he had a lip.

Idly, his vision turned to that of the Crow, who was perched on a section of the boardwalk that jutted out over the water, an inconspicuous spot where the Crow could play the part of a hungry bird as it hopped about, pecking at faintly lit specs as it’s attentions demanded. Subtle clicks lapped from somewhere. A rat scurried away from his boot. Javal shouted. The wind carried the sounds of the city turned into on formless amalgamation. But yet, the silence was palpable.

~~~~

Conroe is 'next to' Han and in stealth.

Stats:
HP: 170
MLE: 2
DEF: 3 {ARM:12/12]
SPD: 11 [DO:11]
AUR: 16 [AP:15]
DUS: 14 [DP:14]

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Ciara Megido
Villain
Posts: 85
Joined: Sat Jun 27, 2015
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Weapon: Maidens
Semblance: Passage

Re: Death and Taxes (Private Hard Event)

Post by Ciara Megido » Tue May 31, 2016

Well, he was here, her temporary date for the evening. Looking to the turrets situated upon the rooftop, the woman thumbed a switch in her pocket. She would not fire them up immediately. No, he at least deserved to say whatever he was going to say. That was the type of man he was after all. He would try to get her to call it quits, and come in quietly. Avoid bloodshed, all that noble, good, police work. A sigh of patience rewarded caught the wet air, carrying upwards like herself. The loose gravel on the roof crunched under her shoes, as the faint slapping of rocks off her skirt caught the air. "I can't do that Alistair. You should know that if you did your homework. A maiden has a job to do and she does it with the utmost of her ability. You know what it is to serve a purpose. Your calling comes first above all else." Silver bled into the light of the shattered moon, a warm smile accompanying the coins of precious metal gleaming as they watched their charge. Metal clicked, popped quietly within the woman's hoodie pocket as she flicked the protector to the turret switch back and forth, getting restless.

Ciara was not one for long winded speeches, or monologues very often. People rarely wished to hear about her mistress anyway. Those who did not waste her time though often earned a small favor though. A parting gift to the damned. "So, any last words?" it was cheesy yes, but many wished to impart some sort of verbal decree or wise saying upon their deathbed. Many spoke of loved ones, or regrets. Many more cursed her in various creative or simple ways. Fear made people act strange, and she was no exception. Failure, loneliness, becoming useless, all things far worse than death. People were never so quick to agree though. Of course many would agree in conversation, but few truly accepted their fate. Acting as if something was being stolen from them. As if it was theirs to own in the first place.

"Or, are you more of a last request person?" The curb of the rooftop complained under her shoe as she danced upon the edge in her mind. With a flapping of wind and cloth, the girl stood before Alistair, that same smile gleaming. There had been so much work to get this one man, and the time had finally come. Excitement did not truly emphasize her emotion, as she rocked back and forth upon her feet. The perfect place, the perfect time, all without upsetting her mistress. It was, truly beautiful. Rather, it will be beautiful, when things are finished oh so soon. The glee from the moment cleansed all other distractions from her mind, including the precarious signs of those waiting for their moment to strike.

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Ciara moves into close range of Alistair, Conroe, and Han. Does not recognize Han is there
Ciara is in long range of Zaza and Jim
(The turrets are placed in equal distance medium range from each other and the center of the area on the ledges of the buildings.)
The central road/dock loading area is medium range in size, the buildings tops are medium from the loading area. The docks/warfs are long range from the loading area.
"In our story I do not narrate, I just fill in the margins."

Alistair Javal
1st Semester
Posts: 8
Joined: Sun Feb 28, 2016
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Weapon: Triumvirate Justice
Semblance: Nemesis

Re: Death and Taxes (Private Hard Event)

Post by Alistair Javal » Sun Jun 05, 2016

The faint sound of stones underfoot answered his call. Tightening his grip on his weapon, he prepared himself for a rush to take him out quickly. Tactically it was the smartest move, but he was reminded yet again that very few criminals bothered to consider the tactics in their situation. She'd lead him here for a reason, a trap to bloody the waters around the docks as surely as tossing chum in the water would. Instead of a rushed ambush, she'd given herself away by stepping into sight on the roof. Alistair's nerves were still on edge though. As careful as she'd been before, it suggested there was something he was missing in this situation. Something obvious and it didn't sit well with him. Still, the longer he baited her out, the more easily the students could ready themselves and get into position.

As she spoke, he didn't even bother sighing. It was all rather expected from her type. It was ego and nothing more. Her motivations may seem unique to her, but it was always something that made them "unique" and put them above the law. Something that made them special in their mind. It was always some kind of "purpose" or "duty," words that someone like her couldn't understand. What really caught his attention was her question. Last words? So didn't just plan to fight. He was actually her prey. That was new. The thought of that was actually interesting. None of her previous targets had seemed to have their aura to protect them. "Aren't you counting your quills before you pluck the bird there?" He had no doubt he was going to be treading dangerous ground as the students got closer, but he'd either bait her into attacking him or trying to justify her crimes. He'd prefer the latter, if only to have a better chance to get her to come in peacefully.

"It's not the time for last words is my point." He shifted his stance slightly, appearing more relaxed, but prepared to snap out a strike with the bladed stock of his rifle if need be. She had a semblance, which meant aura. She'd be able to survive a few good hits if it did get ugly. "You've been watching me for awhile now, so you know I've done my homework as you've said, but you call it a matter of purpose as a "maiden." I don't think that word means what you think it means. Being a maiden implies innocence but here you are threatening an officer without a care in the world. So maybe you mean something else? So who do you serve or is it just duty to yourself like every other criminal who's made threats like yours?" A brief shrug and shake of his head was all he gave to show his disappointment.

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Jim Lavay
4th Semester
Posts: 712
Joined: Sun Oct 25, 2015
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Weapon: Ruin (Left) and Restoration (Right)
Semblance: Adrenaline Rush (Unending Fury)

Re: Death and Taxes (Private Hard Event)

Post by Jim Lavay » Mon Jun 06, 2016

Sitting there in the shadows, swords at the ready, Jim eagerly awaited as Javal approached. The students had devised a decent plan, and he was prepared to execute his part. However, a look of disappointment showed up on his face as the girl greeted the old man. The armored student looked over to Zaza grumbling. "Crap, they didn't get close enough. If she makes a move I can't get there in time."

It appeared as though for at least the moment the two were exchanging words instead of immediately attacking one another. "Are they greeting each other out of mutual respect, or was there actually a peaceful resolution in the works." Jim thought to himself. Turning back towards Zaza "Well Buddy, we may as well play along for now. Although I have to admit if I came all the way out here for nothing I'm going to be a little bit bummed out."

As Jim stood up he sheathed his swords, and switched to his heavy pistol. It wouldn't do much damage, but it could at least draw her attention til he got close. He then started walking towards the other group making no attempts to disguise his movements. After all, even if she did turn around, and shoot at him that would mean they could get this party started.

The closer he got the better look of their potential opponent, and Jim almost started laughing to himself a little bit. This girl didn't look that scary, or menacing. However, if he learned anything over the years. It was to never judge someone by appearance, because frequently the smallest or most innocent looking people are by far the most powerful.

Action:

Jim Moves to Medium Range of Ciara, Javal, Han, and Conroe.
Personal Motto: What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and nothing can kill me.
Favorite Quote: Maximum Effort!

Talking: ----- Thinking:

Jim's Theme Song : Indestructible : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4A3c2RKTJ4I

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Zaza Kuroda
4th Semester
Posts: 420
Joined: Wed Sep 09, 2015
Gender: Male
Race: Faunus
Weapon: Razorwind
Semblance: Fletcher

Re: Death and Taxes (Private Hard Event)

Post by Zaza Kuroda » Tue Jun 07, 2016

Here he was. In the middle of of a soon to be battlefield. Then again, that's only a possibility. Zaza was close to Jim for the time being and was watching Javal from a distance. Zaza was crouched down behind whatever cover he could find. He however wasn't putting much effort into making himself hidden. If anything, he was only hiding to avoid getting hit.

Javal was still exposed which worried Zaza. The situation Javal was in was clearly dangerous, but right now is not the time for Zaza to do whatever he wants. Out of the corner of Zaza's eyes, his target revealed herself. Immediately, Zaza stood up and drew his bow right afterwards. He was done aiming and was ready to fire. However, he stopped himself. Ciara wasn't attacking Javal just yet. It made Zaza a bit suspicious and want to fire, but nobody else was doing anything.

Jim seemed to be thinking the same problem Zaza is thinking. "I doubt I'll be able to react quickly enough to stop her if she were to do something" he'd say while keeping his bow and arrow aimed. Jim then suggested to play along. Zaza doesn't like it, but he thinks it's a better choice than recklessly attacking. Zaza slowly lowered his bow and sighed. "I'm gonna remain over her and stay on watch" Zaza told Jim. Right afterwards, Jim decided to leave Zaza alone to get closer to their target.

Now he was all alone. It's not that big of a deal, but now there's nobody to help Zaza make decisions. He would let out another sigh. Zaza would then make sure his mask was on and would watch everybody. He continued to stand at his position with his bow and arrow to his side.

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Zaza remains on standby.
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