Cinia Pacifica Posts

get the fuck out

What show, again?

Nah. That's stupid. You really have no idea of the origins of the term.

Posting in CTFG. Is a chatfag now.

/using his logic

.__.

:V...

hm, i'll assume that no one else wants in on the rp anymore

it should start soon then

Such assassin.

(This is a Joint Post Starring:
TheLoneGentleman, Cinia Pacifica, and Bagman.)

As the two walked up to the house the fact that it was seemingly untouched set off alarms in their heads. Amidst the destruction the fact that this place wasn’t so much as scratched was nothing short of a miracle. The outside of the house was painted white with a dark brown roof. The sides of the house had vines growing that had been trained to follow certain paths and avoid the windows. The windows however were covered in ash and neither of them could see through.

“It’s as if it’s a house saying that it’s safe, while itself being a trap,” Louise assessed from the looks of the white house. The windows made her suspicious, but they’d have no choice but to prowl into the house regardless.

“Well, we won’t know it’s a trap until we walk into it,” Owain laughed, trying the front door.

“Then I shall have you take the brunt of the aftermath from any possible ambushes,” Louise replied with a smile and a wink.

The front door was unlocked, and opened without so much as a squeak, but as the sunlight filtered into the house the sound of something scrambling away was heard. Looking at the floor showed a bloody trail that went up the stairs to the second floor. The room itself was still intact. A wooden table over a brown area rug sat in the center of the room. Two bookcases sat on the far wall next to each other, beside a doorway that lead elsewhere. A desk was to the right of the table. There was a candle burning on the desk that had been left unattended and was burning to the end of its wick. Wax covered the table.

Owain’s brow furrowed, the sight honestly confusing him. It was as if whoever was living here had simply vanished into thin air. The blood on the floor could probably attest that that wasn’t the case, but even still… what exactly had happened? Owain bent over the blood trail and tested it with his finger to try and gauge how long ago it had been created. It was only slightly coagulated, the blood was rather fresh.

“M’lady… did you hear something?” Owain asked Louise, his anticipation growing. He placed a hand behind his back to reach for his sword that was strapped there, holding the hilt tightly.

“I can’t sense a thing,” Louise answered. “I suppose we’re bare with our eyes now.”

Owain drew his sword, holding it in both hands. He decided that even if it was a trap, he had no choice but to follow this trail of blood, whatever’s blood it was, was probably still in the house. He signalled to Louise to tell her what he was doing. Cautiously, he quietly edged up the stairs, one at a time.

Louise gave a nod before following after Owain with light footsteps, with her wand at bay. Albeit, using magic here would be quite the detrimental course of action, for any reasons. Blowing up the house didn’t seem so good an idea. Teleporting may regardless come in handy for survival, however.

As Owain sneaked up the stairs he felt the squish of blood under his feet. They reached the second floor and as they did a door slammed hard at the end of the hallway. The blood trail however split into two different rooms, and not the door that slammed.

Owain gulped, it was obvious that they should follow the sign of life rather than the sign of death, but all the same he wanted a second opinion. “Which way?” he whispered to Louise.

Louise silently pointed towards the middle door, implying that she’ll take that way. “Take either left or right,” she whispered back to Owain.

“Splitting up sounds like a dumb idea,” Owain whispered back, “We don’t know what we’re facing.”

“Aren’t you a knight? What are you so afraid of?” Louise asked with a rather cranky expression. “The faster the results, the better.”

“I’m absolutely, pant-wettingly afraid of overconfidence,” Owain said seriously, “but if you insist on splitting up,” Owain sighed putting his back against the left hand door, hand on the handle, ready to turn it.

“Says the man who claimed to be stronger than Commander Arkasia on a good day,” Louise shrugged, then walked straight ahead. “Do whatever you please, Sir Knight,” Louise noticed by now that he was simply the type who’d want to play the knight, in a more classic sense. Over-confidence? Louise? Blasphemy! Is how she took his words.

Owain sighed again, he would have said there is a fine line between confidence in one’s abilities and overconfidence but he felt that now wasn’t the time. He twisted the handle and darted into the room, sword readied.

6/10

Art is dead apparently.

"Them."

Sure is funny in a way.

Freakin' bread

all about the bread

i sincerely hope they won't

I heard that winter got a Snivy and renamed it to a certain fag's name lel.

nou

hur

sux

still a fgt

freaky pls

OT: changed username