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Post by Civil War NPC on Sept 30, 2019 9:29:48 GMT -6
The day of the protest arrives, and the weather is bright, just early enough in the day that the heat of the sun is still pleasant rather than sweltering. The crowd of protesters started small, a pair consisting of a wolf mammalian and ssashirk leading a forest thundergug with a cart full of signs to an alley near the Hunting lodge, meeting with the small group that had already gathered. The signs were handed out, slogans shouted out and changed as they found their stride, and the small crowd yelled and shook their signs like weapons at those who so much as glanced at the Lodge, warning of the evils of such a place.
“Free means free! Don't sponsor slavers!” “Wha’ gifes teh right tah ensslafe any’un?” “They not pets! They smarter than you!” “Let them make their own choices!” “How would you feel if someone came in here and took you, or your loved ones?”
The crowd continued to grow, and soon they had begun to attract an audience of their own. Most people walked by the protesters with merely a glance, some pausing for a moment to make out what the protest was about. Some laughed to themselves, shaking their heads as they walked away, others hunched their shoulders and sped away at a pace that barely could be considered walking. Of those who stayed, some went to talk to those who yelled and waved their signs, a few of these approaching the cart to gain signs of their own. Some watched quietly, keeping their distance as they stood beside others who yelled and laughed at the protesters or talked amongst themselves.
“Bloody teeth, I almost had 'nough credits for a gold fore these i-jits showed up.” “Yeah, free means free! Let us take them ourselves, save us the credits.” “They know that tat-lung are just made by the labs, right?” “Oh yeah, jus’ave some fire-breathing beasties roam free and make da city burn!” “They probably just trying to keep rare. Hate collectors.”
Both crowds are full of different races and pets, both slowly growing to such a size that anyone looking to pass them would need to squeeze their way through the narrowing gap between them. Mammalian of all kinds, undulates, humans and those who only look somewhat humanish, scaly ssashirk and feathered avians and and others less easily described moving through the crowds.
By a cart full of rapidly depleting signs, a grey furred wolf-like mammalian sits next to a heavily scarred pale ssashirk, the latter covered in long, thick lines that disappeared beneath a simple tunic and pants modified for their form. The mammalian wore the same outfit, though the brown fabric had a few colorful stains splattered across them that matched the color of the words on some of the signs. They talked, the ssashirk gesturing furiously as the wolf merely shrugged and nodded, the latter pausing the conversation to speak to those who came up to them and hand out signs and the ssashirk taking that time to check on the forest thundergug still attached to the cart.
Another ssashirk, this one’s brown hide mottled with black dots from what can be seen outside of their robe, attempts to direct a pair of mocha felusine in carrying signs of their own as it leans on the larger one it had been carrying. The slogans “Let dragons fly free” and “Faeries live in green forests, not concrete ones” are printed on the signs as the felusine alternate between waving them in the air and using them as canes. The ssashirks’ sign merely has a picture of what might be a cage or a net circled and broadly slashed across in red paint.
A thickly muscled pale woman, appearing to be completely human before she opened her mouth full of triangular shark-like teeth, calling out slogans with equal fervor as she pumps her “Let free remain free” sign in the air. The web weaver beside her carries no such obvious sign, nor makes any sound beyond the inaudible tapping of its’ feet against the stone ground, but a closer inspection of the webbing draped across it’s legs as it marches alongside her reveals words such as “free” and “rights”. Another person, resembling her but this one with normal human teeth to complete his younger and slimmer human appearance, marches by her, though he cannot help but wince as he notices the weaver’s words. In trying to avoid looking directly at the webbing, he looks to the opposing crowd and the wanderers, an uneasy grin plastered on his face.
Watching the protesters with wide eyes, a young dark-skinned human boy chatters away to his desert amphadron. A delicate golden chain, one that would not be out of place on a wealthy woman’s neck, links the bracelet on the child’s wrist to the collar encircling the amphadron’s neck. The frill running down its' back was folded where it lay underneath the collar, but it shows no signs of discomfort as it listens to the boy and clicks in between his pauses for breath.
A fox mammalian, wearing a many colored dress that clung to her body and holding sack of jingling credits watched the protesters with a look that flip-flopped between annoyance and amusement, joining in with a the slowly growing few who yelled discouraging remarks to the protested, the rascal faeron resting on her shoulders punctuating her words with giggles.
An undulate, resembling a common equillion complete with massive hooves, laughs alongside the fox and faeron, occasionally running up to the protestor to ask a few questions and bray with laughter before retreating back to the fox. She wove through the crowd with grace as it thickened, ignoring any shouts her words or path might have inspired.
An avian, wingless for all that they resembled a tufted alurook, passed by the protest several times before settling in an alley accross from the cart, cloak sweeping behind it as it tried to remain inconspicuous, never looking up from the book it carried though it never turned a page. The aptery gallor beside it, gratefully sank to the ground as it did so, the bulging packs harnessed to it now resting on the ground.
((Howdy. Feel free to interact with any of these NPC’s, pick others out of the crowd(describe your own, and I’ll play them), or even just talk to other players. Please remember that any posts made after 72 hours of this one may be skipped over in its replies.))
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Post by Flare on Sept 30, 2019 10:09:35 GMT -6
The bright and early day dawns earlier for gardeners. Once the sun rose high enough in the air, a ssashirk, for all the world from a farther vantage point could've been a lashak draconic in blood, closed the gate on his garden plot with a satisfied sigh. Everything was watered before the sun hit the leaves. He could leave the creatures to their endless play and not worry. Right? With his messenger bag slung over one shoulder to counterbalance walking with his vined cane-staff, Flare departed off to perhaps find the library again. He hadn't the faintest idea on how to train his creatures on the idea of watching him. Not without drawing some sort of memory out of his days in the core. His outfit still betrayed his foreign heritage, for who wore a toga in fall? It was cold! Point of reference for those who didn't know of ssashirk being naturally hot-blooded. The large crowd draws his curiosity as Flare makes his way into town. Shouts that he didn't quite understand. 'Free' was about all he got from the distant noises in Common. A few in Ssakash too, with the harsh accent. As he approached, the ssashirk appreciated briefly that he was tall, for he could see over most of the heads of the natives who were witnessing... a line of various folk, both of animal and human origins, carrying signs and trying to coax creatures into signs too? He looks carefully at the signs. 'Free.' 'No to slavers'. 'Dragons fly free'. By the tone of loud voices of the procession, it sounded like a protest. A protest for what? Freedom?
Confused, Flare watches the crowd, but he can vaguely feel someone else watching him. Behind him, something sweeps past, large and feathery. He looks back; its a bird. A bird who walks like a person, almost as big as he is. And joined by... another bird. A quadruped bird, loaded down with heavy, bulging sacks. Perhaps they knew more. He limps forward towards the alley in which he sees the bird settle down. There's a book in their hands. Perhaps they understood Tumai... or ssakash? [Why are there shouting folk here, wise bird?] For all he knew, wide eyed birds were all labeled as wise. 6.20
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Post by Jack on Oct 2, 2019 11:49:28 GMT -6
Words were everywhere and she didn't know how to make heads or tails of things just yet. It was a little frustrating, considering she liked knowing what was going on in the Labs, it made her uneasy. People were protesting the Hunter's Lodge? It seemed like something they might do, but as she had bought a few Tat-lung from there herself, she wasn't sure she could really be on their side of things at the moment. She believed animals who were sentient had the right to choose, but also that they should be cared for like children almost. Chewing her lip, she reached the undulate who was weaving in and out of the crowd and tilted her head, clearing her throat a little to be heard over the din of the crowd, "Hey there, what's going on here, really?" Looking a little confused, Jack knew things would hopefully be explained to her in time, she just didn't know what to expect.
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Post by Alma on Oct 2, 2019 13:31:28 GMT -6
Having one of her creatures stolen from her had not been a high point in her life. That it had probably been a skulking group of soft-skins that had stolen away her brand new supposed ‘seer’ made it take a little longer for the embarrassment to die.
Then the posters had shown up, and she had the bright thought that the thieves might appear there with Offal. The soft-skins that had pestered her before the theft had similar delusions, had they not? And although she no longer cared so much, not when another dream weaver would cost her a paltry sum, it would be fun to meet the soft-skins that had been so daring.
Finding herself trapped in a swarm of soft-skins yelling about terrible the Hunting Lodge had not been part of that plan, nor was getting lost while forcing her way through sign-wielding protesters as she looked for any sign of the weaver. With her smaller frame, unable to straighten up to her full height for fear of being knocked over and trampled, she had to alternate between looking up at the buildings and using them to guide her and looking at the pulsing mass of soft-skins that made her want to do nothing more than sink her teeth and claws into them, screeching for them to return what one of them had stolen. There were no dream weavers lurking in the pockets in between the protesters, though a few web weavers caught her eye and raised her hopes more than once. Or perhaps it was the same web weaver. The crowd was a little disorienting.
Struggling through the press of bodies, she found another pocket of space to rush into and nearly stepped on the pair of felusine and what she guessed was their robed owner. She took in the signs, sniffing once in hopes of overcoming the stench of sweat and bodies filling the area around her to figure out the proper way to address them as she realized they were not a soft-skin. Making sure to keep her expression neutral, leaving the chuckle the sight inspired to die in her throat, she spoke in Sakaash. “[Cousin, apologies for this distraction from your]”, she paused for a moment, not entirely sure how to describe what was being done, “[duties, but have you seen a] drean weavar [anywhere around here?]” Even if this one was as stupid as the other desert cousin she had met, the signs suggesting they might be worse, they certainly did not look blind.
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Post by Civil War NPC on Oct 3, 2019 14:32:30 GMT -6
General: The crowds continue to grow until there is no easy way to tell where one group ends and the other begins. Voices raise even louder, not so much in slogans or speeches but in shouted, unintelligible arguments.
Flare: The book shook in the avian's hands as it refused to look up, puzzling over the noises for a moment. "Why? Wh-AAH!" The avian squawks he looks up at the speaker, book nearly slamming into his already flat face as he raises it into the air like a shield. He scoots backwards for a moment then freezes, slowly lowering the book to reveal his eyes. "What? Dragon? Sarane? What-are-you-doin' he-?" He slams his beak shut, springing upright with the same force he had held up his book. Wide eyes twitching as he looked over the winged thing in front of him, then blinking as he let out an explosive sigh. "Ssashirk. Never seen one like you, not with wings like that. And that was not their normal tongue, not enough hiss-" There is a moment of what have been embarrassment, and he slides the book behind him, looking over to his gallor. As it yawned, looking back into the thickening crowd, he he looked back at the not-dragon. He ran a hand over the shoulder of the arm holding the book, trying to smooth his feathers. "Tumai? Or was it Tummi? Haven't had much practice in that." The blathering stopped with a click of his beak, and he took a deep breath as he tried to remember what he could of the language. As it was, he felt lucky to have understood 'why' and 'folks', though he could not be sure he knew what question was asked. "[Salutations. Short words. Apologize. They mad. Say bad like sell person is pet.]" He looked back towards the crowd, flinching and taking another step back into the alley. "[Bad like.]" was repeated with emphasis, his feathers puffing up subconsciously.
Jack: The undulate slowed her run, coming to a complete stop as she twirled on one hoof to face the human. A quick glance over to were the fox stood, then she grinned at Jack. "What's going on? Well, at least one of them thinks youth potions are evil and wants the world to know!" One hand was lifted into the air in a fist as she spoke, any gravitas she might have had vanishing an instant later as she brayed with laughter. She shook her head, hand dropping to her face to wipe away an imaginary tear. "Seriously though, I think that they", she flapped a hand in the direction of the protesters, "are just really bored. They say they're mad the Lodge is selling 'intelligent' critters, namely that they think the hunters are stealing them away from free families to be pets for profit." She tosses her head with another laugh, hair whipping behind her to the annoyance of those standing there. "I mean, c'mon. 'lung were literally made by the labs, and as for those tiny fairies, the fae running the place has no qualms about it. Gives us all a chance at getting those rare pets." She pauses for a moment, grin growing wider. "But who knows? Maybe some disgruntled collector is bank rolling these twits, wanting to keep their beasts rare." As the crowd thickens, the undulate barely seems to notice, few brushing against her as she rested her hands on her hips. "What do you think?"
Haix: "[Cousin?]", she asks, straightening up from pressing the sign into one of the felusine's hands, the creature dropping it immediately to turn and stare at Haix. The ssashirk sighed and pointed at the sign and the felusine reluctantly turned away to pick it up. "[You are no cousin of mine.]" Her gaze flicked down and back up the form of the smaller ssashirk, and her mouth split into a rigid smile, a chuckle escaping through her teeth. "[But here, we are friends. No, I have not seen any of those telepathic spiders among our number. Did they accompany you?]" The tone grows colder as she speaks again, voice just quiet enough that Haix would need to lean in to hear it. "[If you are looking to, ah, acquire one, I recommend you leave this place. Few here would take kindly to it.]" The ssashirk glances back down at her charges to tell them to hold the signs up higher, then back to Haix. The forced smile vanishes as she takes a breath and tightens her grip on her own sign Her next words, while not warm, are no longer so frigid. "[Is that all, or have you come to protest as well?]"
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Post by Alma on Oct 6, 2019 13:35:23 GMT -6
Haix kept her expression neutral as the other ssashirk, a female if she had caught the scent correctly, proved just how stupid it was. Ignoring the coldness of the tone, she responded with as much cheer as she could manage. "[Friends? That means a lot to this one. The] drean weaver [was an old friend I was hoping to see here. He had an interest in this sort of thing.]" she said with a baring of her own teeth in a warmer 'grin' to match the other's. As the crowd grew louder, and more individuals bumped against her, it became more difficult to hold on to the relaxed, cheery image she hoped to project to the ssashirk. Hold onto it though she did, refusing to let her annoyance at the robed one show.
As the crowd grew louder, she was content to remain leaning close to the ssashirk, her jaws inches away from their scaled throat as she spoke again. "[Protest? Perhaps, but I lack anything to wave in the air,]" as you and your pets are idiotically doing, though she did not let those words pass her teeth. Haix leaned back as if to force her way back through the thickening crowd. Then, slightly regretting that yet another ssashirk might be acting so foolish and clinging to a slight hope that they might be a little smarter than they had appeared to be so far, she asked, "[Do you think this will achieve what you hope for?]" There. An opening to see if there was a hint of sense in that scaled head, though having to nearly yell to ensure her words would be heard risked the surrounding soft-skins reacting.
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Post by Jack on Oct 6, 2019 14:17:31 GMT -6
Jack gave a shrug, she hadn't really thought about it much before. Enslaving, kidnapping, that was a little darker than she'd thought of, but the Tat-lung were sentient, hell they were more than sentient, and she'd had them to out to find eggs for her before. Shifting on her feet a little, the woman shook her head, "I'm not sure. I don't think they're really slaves, but I guess some people could see it that way? I don't know, I think they need to be protected though, life outside the Labs isn't sunshine and roses, and I think it's in their best interest to be looked after. I mean, I bought some Tat-lung from there awhile back, so I can't say much at the moment, but Harachiu... I don't know, honestly." Giving another little shrug, she smiled, "It's not like we could shut the place down even if they tried, I don't see the point in it, not much is going to change around here, I can tell you that much."
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Post by Flare on Oct 6, 2019 14:43:27 GMT -6
The drake doesn't seem initially phased by the fear the bird-person shone to his appearance. He'd seen his own reflection in puddles of water. The fatally deep wound that fractured an already reptilian appearance would be enough to scare anyone. That, and being a ssashirk, who wasn't very common here from what he'd seen and found out over this time. He waits patiently for the bird-person to recover themselves. They gabble about dragon, sarane. Heck, if they mistook him for a draconic like that goat of a kitava did, it would be understandable. But the bird does speak Tumai! Short words, but still words! A drop of relief settles in his stomach. Another one he could speak without chewing his tongue and feeling more foreign then just looks. {Short words are good. No apologizing needed.} he offers the book holding bird-person with a gentle tone. {Sell person as pet? Sell as slave? Sell pet as slave? What do you mean?} There were slaves in Tumai, creature and human alike. Those who were poor frequently were slaves when unable to survive. Though some slaves were treated well? {How pet be slave?} That part didnt' make sense. Though he knew very VERY little on what sort of creatures the labs made in specific. The din of the shouting coaxed him into folding his tattered wings closer to his body. Don't stand out in shouting unless you seek to. 9.20
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Post by Civil War NPC on Oct 6, 2019 15:35:43 GMT -6
General: The noise and density of the crowd builds and builds, until those trapped within it could be forgiven for thinking there was nothing more to the worlds and the press of bodies, the reek of sweat, a breeze of breathe that accompanied the shouts and abuse both sides hurled at one another. For those on the outskirts of the crowd, it is nearly impossible to make out the individuals roaming only a few feet in.
Then a scream cuts through the noise, silencing it and stilling the movement for an instant as if the crowd's respective throats had been neatly cut. The scream did not end before another shout broke in alongside it. "Help! They're eatin' a kid!" Other shouts, overlapping the first, "It's gonna kill me!" and "No! Stop!"
Those few words did what all the shouts beforehand did not, some those at home within the crowd now desperate to break out of it and as those on the outskirts, and a few that wanted to help, tried to press inward and see what was happening. More screams broke out, and now even those not sensitive to smells could make out the tang of blood in the air. Shouted commands rang out for unseen beasts, threats and prayers intermingling from those without any such protection. No one would have an easy time traveling in any particular direction, and to fall would be to be trampled.
Flare: Twitchy as the avian might still be, he does seem to relax a fraction as Flare speaks to him. "[Has smart.]" he says, tapping his head, though his limited grasp of the words make him wonder otherwise. "[Has smart.]" he repeats, this time pointing to Flare's head. "[No smart.]" he points to the gallor, who rests its head on the ground, ignoring him and the ssashirk for the moment. "The labs, city, uh, [town make smart pet. Big smart pet. Like person has smart. Some more smart.]" he says glancing behind the ssashirk at the thickening crowd. "[Gets out. Is not sold, is out. Now is person? Then takers,]" hand pointing to the building separated from them by a wall of people, "[take result, child. Take as pet. Sell. Ask, if is person? Then is slave, is bad. They no like slave takers.]" He knows he has to be mangling the words, that the others he has heard would be able to offer more elegant explanations, but he keeps blathering, anything to avoid thinking about the mass behind the ssashirk. He calls the gallor over to himself a moment later, the beast slowly rising before padding over to him. He slides the book into one of the bags harnessed to it, still speaking to the ssashirk as he fumbled with shaking hands to tie the knots. "[If is person now pet, ask if persons]" he points back at Flare and then himself, "[can be pet. Just now pet, not person.]"
Taking a deep breath, resting his taloned hands on the side of his beast, he is preparing one last attempt to speak to the ssashirk when the first scream rings out. With a loud screech of his own, he claws his way atop the already burdened beast, the gallor not seeming to notice the extra weight. Rather than screech out a command, to flee as more screams ring out, he looks down to the ssashirk and speaks again. "[Bad now. Run. Much blood.]"
Jack: The undulate waits for a moment for the human's reply, throwing a glance in the direction of where she had last seen the fox mammalian. As the crowd grew thicker, she could no longer make out where the fox had stood, her own personal space barely kept as she impatiently stepped in place, her hooves threatening the feet of any that might come too close. "Yeah, I have a feeling most 'lung wouldn't last a second against ah wild wiurn. Not without some trainin'. And a harachiu would die from a thundergug's fart." Another braying laugh here, broad teeth and pink gums on full display. "You're right though. This ain't going to do anythin'. Funny to watch though, wonder if-"
Then the scream, and not even her high steps were enough to keep the bodies from slamming into her like a wave, tossing her towards the human with surprised whinny. Just as she might have collided with the human, she catches herself on one hoof, turning to slam herself back into the crowd in the direction she had kept glancing toward. She rebounds off of a large, leonine figure, and this time is unable to catch herself as she falls backwards toward Jack.
Haix:
She visibly struggles not to back away as the ssashirk leans close, a few muttered words to her felusine keeping them back. Then the green one appears to have finished and leans away, and her body nearly slumps, confusion evident on her face. "[An old-]" Then the green on is speaking to her again, and she blinks at the question, jaw slowly opening, then closing a second later. When she speaks, the coldness is nearly gone though some of the stiffness remains. "[I... can only hope. I know the] tat-lung [should not be kept as slaves at all, but this will be a good start.]" Her stance straightens, though it has her looking down at the green ssashirk. She stares for a few seconds as if unsure about something, then she begins, ["Uh, I-] when she is interrupted by the scream.
She whirls away from Haix to look for the source of the scream, the following shouts and accompanying screams seeming to make her completely forget about their conversation. She calls to her felusine, and while one rushes to her side with it's sign dragged along the ground beside it for a second before it is torn away by an errant leg, the other leaps at a panicked shape that falls towards her. Back towards Haix, it's clear she has more important things to worry about as she tries to grab her errant felusine.
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Post by Flare on Oct 7, 2019 23:24:48 GMT -6
Flare listens to the bird-person's short words, of pointing at his own feathered head, then towards Flare's head, then towards the quadruped bird-creature beside him. Town make smart pet? Smart as people? How is this possible? The building of the labs that the city is built around is barely visible in the distance towards the north, a great white tower of unnatural making. Even this far away, it makes the roots of his hair prickle with unease. He continues to listen to the bird, nodding or tilting his head in confusion to the words, the sentences. The information is a lot to take in. Sell... sell child of smart pet to people. People mad, call sellers slave takers. Smarter then people pets seen as slave if sold as pet? Treated as slave? He didn't know what sort of creatures even could be considered smarter then a person in general. And 'smart as a person' took a wide range in his experience; from a poor illiterate slave to the wise bookkeepers that seem to know all. Smarter then the bookkeepers. {Wise bird. Your words 'person now pet, ask if person can be pet' confuses me. Tumai has slaves. Slave takers. What pet more smart then person?} his questions are beginning to mush together. The noise is getting louder, more raucous. The bird has gathered themselves to leave as well. The screams start then. The sharp scent of metal that is blood, the tang is pungent in the air. The ssashirk's ear flaps tense, fully extended but flat against his skull. The bird speaks to run. Of blood and bad. {Run where. Person run, pet run. Everywhere. Which way. I follow?} 18.20
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Post by Alma on Oct 8, 2019 10:48:47 GMT -6
Tat-Lung. A dragon lover. It is through a supreme effort of will that she keeps from curling up her lip in a sneer as the full impact of what she is dealing with hits her. At least the other one had the excuse of being addled by the heat, but this one showed no such signs. Then she stands a little taller to tower over Haix, a meager attempt at intimidation that only presents Haix with a larger target if she was to strike. But there were no daggers for her fingers to hold as they reflexively curled, relaxing a moment later as the other began to stammer out something. Then there was the scream and the shouts, and the idiot spun away from her as if there was a greater threat in the swarm of soft-skins then there had been in from of them. Her annoyance partially gave way to self-preservation as the crowd began to contract and retract, the force of the soft-skin horde nearly knocking her off her feet as she watched the felusine attack one of them. More screams now, one no doubt from the soft-skin being gnawed on, and Haix was nearly knocked into them with the force of the angry swarm.
This was not the usual way of the soft-skin hive, and Haix, without a tree or rock to climb on, could only focus on staying upright as she moved with the swarm, hoping to reach a building without being crushed against it. Just before she drifted away from the soft-ssashirk though, she had a flash of inspiration. Noting that a long-earred beastkin had wedged itself between Haix and the felusine's master, she threw herself at it. Not with ripping claws, no, she would not risk an open attack when they were frenzied like this, but with a shoulder in hopes of knocking it into the one that insulted her. Regardless of her success, she would then move with the crowd the best she could, hopefully avoiding the things causing the soft-skins to scream. Her scales meant little to the things the labs birthed.
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Post by Jack on Oct 8, 2019 10:56:14 GMT -6
Jack nodded a little, surprised a little by her approach. She was pretty bold it seemed, but that was alright, she figured there was a reason she picked her out of the crowd. Giving a little shrug, she seemed a little surprised, "I think a few Tat-lung might survive, but it would be difficult against the trained ones if they escaped. I couldn't see a Hara lasting long unless they hid, but what kind of life is that? At least with people they can live to the fullest, see things they probably wouldn't have seen at this point."
Jack trailed off a little when the screams started, what was going on?? Something was eating a kid, what? Jack pressed forward for a moment, only to be shoved back by the crowd, and then the Undulate was falling toward her. The woman swore and reached out to catch her, trying not to let her fall, but trying not to be shoved by the crowd too much. It was a good thing she was strong enough... "What's going on? What's eating someone??" she shouted to the crowd closest to the commotion.
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Post by Nadia on Oct 8, 2019 11:39:00 GMT -6
Nadia truly had not been meaning to get involved with anything untoward.
After another period of extended absence from her home at the labs, she had found herself in need of goods - heading to the marketplace had been the logical response, swaddled in a cloak to avoid unwanted attention. She'd wanted to keep herself to herself. However, it was impossible to ignore the cacophony of sound arising from outside a store that she had never seen before, and the crowd was directly obstructing her path. What else was there to do?
Clinging onto her hood with both hands to keep it drawn around her face, she edged around the throng of people, desperately trying not to get caught up. It was only when she realised that someone was screaming that she felt beyond the ability to simply walk on.
"What is happening..." Her voice was tiny, barely a breath at first. The colourful clothing of a fox mammalian near to her caught her attention, and she shuffled across to them, swallowing the mounting fear rising in her chest in favour of a question. "Excuse me, ma'am... what is going on? Is someone hurt? Should help be called for?"
As she shifted, her toe bumped against a sign discarded on the ground in the panic. 'Let dragons fly free'... a feeling of unrest dropped in her stomach like a stone.
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Post by Civil War NPC on Oct 9, 2019 16:25:03 GMT -6
General: The crowd begins to thin, but not fast enough for those struggling to escape it, nor for those struggling to force their way in. The screams radiate outwards as more find reason to do so. Now glimpses of scenes playing out can be seen by those looking for them. At least one individual is slammed to the ground by a a ridden chiryma v2, the owner shrieking for others to get out of it's way as the mount leaps again and finds clear ground to race away from the melee. A fender estharne stands above a prone and unmoving form, the lack of obvious blood spilling from it as conspicuous as the red dripping from the big cat's fangs. A web weaver tries to drag itself away towards the alley cart of signs on it's four remaining legs, a sharp toothed woman swatting anyone who comes near it with a wooden cudgel that has a scrap of paper clinging to it like a flag. People of all kinds struggling no longer to just get free of the crowd but to defend themselves from panicked pets and owners. Glimpses of a few bodies, creatures and those recognized as beings, curled into moaning balls and those less fortunate that lay limply on the ground before being obscured again by rushing legs.
Flare: The words of the ssashirk run together, and he can barely make it out. He does not know how to explain such things in a language he barely speaks, but as he clings with glossy-eyed fear to the side of the gallor, he only says, "[Run not here. Not be here.]" And with that, the avian whistles out something, and clings to the straps and bags of the gallor as it leaps and runs for the other end of the alley. His flapping cloak and the gallor's tail are the last things seen as he rides away.
Flare would not be lonely for long if he chose to remain in the alley. Another rider was rapidly approaching him from the nearer alley mouth, a screech from the prairie chiryma and a bellowed "Move!" from the humanoid figure riding it all the warning he would be given. Should the rider be dodged, the zebra undulate and its mount showing no sign of slowing, a handful of others would soon make it into the alley behind them as they fled.
Jack: Feeling the hands catch her before she can spill to the ground, she favors Jack with a weaker smile than she had shown before, some joke and thanks muttered that could not be heard over the sound of the crowd.The undulate stands back up on her own legs as the human yells at the crowd. Those in the thick of it don't even look in the direction of the questions, but a few shouts come out of it seemingly in response. "Watch out for the weaver!" "Don't look at the 'dron in the eyes!" "Estharne!"
A tiny purple shape pops into existence just above the undulate and human, dropping an instant later to land in the former's mane. Tangling it's claws into her hair, the faeron twists it's head to stare at Jack with wide eyes. Then it attempts to take off, giggling madly as the hair-wrapped limbs rise with it. "Ow! Tater? Stopit!" she yells, reaching up for the faeron with one hand. It stops, freeing itself to flutter in front of the human and undulate, hovering above the frothing crowd for a few feet before a sign flew the air and smacked it down. A second later and the faeron had magically reappeared above their heads again, grabbing at the undulate's hair. "GerDAMN! Stopit Tater, I got it!" This time she snatches it out of the air, the faeron still giggling as it sticks it's tongue out at her. The undulate bends slightly, squaring her shoulders as she faces the direction the faeron kept trying to lead her in. "Yah can follow, I'm gettin' out!" Then she charges, smashing through the crowd with a cackling faeron cradled between her arms. A path is briefly opened behind her.
Haix: The mammalian is sent stumbling into the ssashirk, but that is all Haix would have time to see as the crowd engulfs her. Such as shove would leave her unbalanced, and it would be a struggle for her to stay upright as she was battered around in the sea of bodies. Battered being the correct term as fists and signs are wildly swung around to open up space around those flailing, though no creatures attacked her directly. Hitting the wall of some building then would be a relief, but she never quite makes it flowing with the crowd. As it thins slightly though, she would find herself able to forge her own path through so long as she was careful, though she might want to be careful not to trip over the bruised and possibly unconscious human next to her.
Nadia: The fox woman does not immediately acknowledge Nadia, intent on holding her ground against those rushing past as she peers into the rolling crowd. When she does notice the "ma'am", head turning slightly in the speaker's direction as her eyes continue to search through the crowd, she snarls, "Oh, we're just having a party! So much fun!" Then she yells out, "Tater, get JD!" and the faeron that had been quietly resting upon her shoulders leapt into the air and disappeared with a barely audible pop.
Now she turns to look human addressing her, though her eyes keep twitching in the direction those fleeing are coming from. "Some idiot," she snaps at the the human in front of her as if they are somehow responsible for all of this, "probably threw a punch, and one of those genius pets stepped in. I did not see it! I was smart enough to stay back here!" Her voice breaks as she says this, and she looks again at the crowd. "How can anyone help while those bastards are letting their pets run free? Pets don't understand laws! Damn them!"
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Post by Alma on Oct 10, 2019 12:56:07 GMT -6
It felt like a lifetime that she was trapped in the soft-skin horde, focusing merely on staying upright as she was carried past and over fleshy forms laying on the ground below and slippery pools of both blood and less savory puddles of bodily fluid. When that was not enough, she would find herself confronted by scenes of snarling pets and others fighting, but they ignored her as she slipped away from them, letting those who rushed in for whatever reason to risk themselves. Within the crowd, she was swatted and punched, but she barely felt it. There was one incident where she nearly took advantage of an open bubble to break free of the idiot soft-skins that kept bashing into her, but the estharne standing there was more than enough of a good reason to stay within the swarm for a little longer.
Space opened up around her without warning, and her first thought was to look for what feral beast was responsible for this pocket of calm, tempted to remain even if it was a wiurn if only it meant she would no longer beat risk of snapping at the soft-skins around her. When nothing appeared to be there except some soft-skin laying on the ground, she released the breath she did not know she had been holding. Dull pains began to throb around her body, the limp form looking as she felt. She looked at it just long enough to be sure it was not about to spring up and prove to be as wild as the pets had been, then looked up at the buildings that, almost miraculously to her, still stood. Using them to orient herself, Haix began to force her way through the thinning crowd, a shove here and a wide 'smile' there to discourage the more feisty ones.
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