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Post by angelous on Feb 22, 2010 20:40:56 GMT -5
Ah the wonders of Britain were certainly something to behold. The sights, the smells, the feeling of rain as it landed on your skin. At least such would be the case if you weren't under a foot tall. Two cloaked individuals had come here under orders to find and turn a rather devious rat into a Heartless, and to slay it. If a Nobody was produced in the process, it was to be brought back for observation and testing.
"Vexen really enjoys his little tests."
The cloaked figure that had said this merely shook its head, and shrugged. His partner for this particular mission was not far off so he asked him a question, almost jokingly.
"What do you think I should do for a hobby?" He chuckled slightly. It'd be nice if his partner would give a humorous response, as it'd lighten the rather grim mood that was currently around them. The continuous rain, the almost everlasting darkness, and the fact that he and his partner were no bigger than the rat they were sent here to deal with.
But as was said before, his question was asked almost jokingly...
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Post by Beaver Dude on Feb 22, 2010 21:15:59 GMT -5
"Hunting Heartless," the other cloaked individual offered back, completely serious. "It would make... many things, much simpler."
“Not that we can have hobbies, merely habits,” he felt compelled to add though it felt less like the dogmatic belief that the man normally spouted than usual.
Nearby, a horse-driven carriage clattered by, wheels sending out great waves of dirty water directly at the two mice-sized men. An inexplicable gust of wind held it in place for a moment before dispersing it in a single violent motion that sent bits of grey water flying everywhere except for at the two small creatures.
The taller cloaked individual's eyes (only a few significant inches at this height) couldn't be seen behind the cowl, but he seemed to be glaring at the sky - as if to complain about the weather or the size of the raindrops or something else completely unrelated.
"Let's go," the taller one growled before disappearing into the shadows of the looming architecture. "We have a job to do." [/size]
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Post by angelous on Feb 22, 2010 21:27:43 GMT -5
The shorter of the two only nodded in agreement with the eldest's comment about having habits rather than hobbies. After all, these two had no hearts, although some would argue that a few within their ranks were a special breed amongst their kind. He almost winced when he saw the giant waves heading for them, though he sighed when it fell harmlessly before them. It was nice to have someone who could control the wind on your side, though their current height limited it's power.
"Alright." He merely followed his partner as they disappeared into the night, and began their search for the one named Ratigan.
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Post by Beaver Dude on Feb 22, 2010 21:50:44 GMT -5
The first mouse they met was not particularly cooperative.
He ran away screaming "the dolls - they SPEAK." and such other multicolored nonsense. The second mouse, who appeared to be drunk, was slightly more cooperative.
"Ah." Hic. "Hello... small... humans." He'd raised a surprisingly expressive eyebrow. "Aren't you... usually... bigger?"
"Ratigan? Heh... you must be... new... he's..."
But at that point he'd collapsed into counter and couldn't be rescued from his alcohol-induced pseudo-coma. Xaldin had judged the several hours wait for consciousness (sobriety would be too much to hope for) to be somewhat less than productive and had led them off to another possible source for information.
He had... thought it was a bar.
The burlesque show with 'Miss Kitty' was quite unexpected though in retrospect Xaldin wouldn't have been able to explain why. It wasn't like there weren't another billion other worlds with their own version of tawdry entertainment.
"Keep your ears open," the lancer ordered.
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Post by angelous on Feb 22, 2010 22:07:06 GMT -5
The key merely listened as the drunken mouse spoke what few words he managed to get out before passing out. It wasn't exactly helpful, but it was better than try number one. The first guy ran off in a fit of terror. He'd have to tell Axel that big or small, things were still terrified of Xaldin. He figured Axel would respond with some comment about how it isn't Xaldin that was terrifying, but rather his face, or perhaps his gigantic sideburns.
"Got it." he replied when he was told to keep his ears open. He took that as the time to split up, so he made his way toward the bar. He sat down on a stool, when he was shoved by a rather large mouse. It was taller than Xaldin was in his current state, and it made Lexaeus look scrawny in terms of muscle. He was standing next to a rather grotesque looking mouse.
"My friend doesn't like you."
"Good to know." Roxas replied. Normally he'd have made some quick comeback, which would have to anyone else, and under any other circumstance, made him look even more like a teenager than he already appeared to be under his clothes. The giant mouse pushed him again.
"I don't like you either." He went to pull out what appeared to be a small pipe, but Roxas summoned his Keyblades and cut off the mouse's hand. Crude and not what Roxas would normally do? Yes. Effective in getting them to leave him alone while drawing attention to him at the same time? Even more so. The mouse screamed in pain, and that drew the attention of everyone in the bar. Before any could act however, Roxas snapped at them.
"Attack and you'll end up being as bad off as that guy. Now where's Ratigan?" The bar goers only glared.
How long until Xaldin started chewing him out or pushing him around for what he did? Roughly three seconds. How long until Roxas' actions and question brought out either the rat they were looking for, or his location? Five, maybe ten tops.
(Sorry, but with the whole bar scene I just had to make a star wars reference)
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Post by Beaver Dude on Feb 23, 2010 20:36:56 GMT -5
That was unexpectedly brutal coming from the Key.
It also violated the 'do not cause a scene' parameter quite... handily.
Wow, that was a terrible pun. Even for him. Maybe Xigbar was correct in judging him to be hopeless at 'humor.'
"That is enough, Thirteen."
The giant of a mouse appeared to be writhing in unfeigned agony. Xaldin considered repairing the hand before dismissing it. It might be better this way. And it wasn't like the magic would be less effective.
He instead patted the mouse on the shoulder.
"Tell us where Rattigan is and I'll put that hand back where it's supposed to be. What do you say?"
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