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Post by Antonio Fernandez Carriedo on Mar 20, 2010 16:29:48 GMT -5
Somehow, Mr Tree's words had made him flush, but not without a grin on his face as his grip tightened around the Italian's wrists. He watched idly as the Frenchman dodged the knife attack --and it was then that Antonio realized that this still unnamed newcomer was holding a weapon. He made an attempt at grabbing the knife from him but his hands ended up returning to the boy's wrists, afraid that the Italian could hurt any of them, including himself.
"Please let go of the knife, poco Italiano, you might get hurt."
For awhile, he ran out of ideas concentrating on trying to figure out what sort of bruises would appear when he checked his legs for any later.
"Senor Tree only wanted to have fun~ He was only joking around, I'm sure." He tried.
"And what good would killing bring you?" He admonished. "For all we know that...that... criatura could still be running rampant and you wouldn't have anybody to protect you! That would defeat the purpose of killing us," Antonio explained and as he did he noted the sky getting darker over head.
Wondering if it would rain, he looked up, olive-green eyes squinting at the shadow.
"What is--"
He frowned.
The look on his face similar to the one he had on before speaking to the tree and scrambled away from the Italian, forgetting about the knife and everything in general really as he took hold of his halberd getting ready to swing up.
But alas.
He found the newly healed arm used to the rest and still fatigued from the previous fight.
Although he would not admit this, even if the creature continued to approach with renewed vigor and blood lust.
Both quite possibly his fault.
"If you wish to run for cover, please do so now."
And his legs weren't exactly helping either.
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Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Mar 21, 2010 13:45:14 GMT -5
Francis laughed, "The limit tomato is threatening us, so cute~ But I do not have a house, mon cher, so you'll have to settle for throwing them elsewhere."Raising a brow at the little Italian, he shook his head, "Silly girl, even more of a reason not to let you go... murderous rampages are not good things, you know." He chided the little man, crossing his arms as he raised his brow to the proclamations he made. Of course, he was probably only pissing off the Italian even more... which was a good thing to him!
When the darkness suddenly loomed overhead, Francis's blue eyes travelled up to the skies and he frowned at the sight he found flying overhead, "Not good," he muttered and glanced at the other man. Run for cover? What cover? The tree? He glanced over at the tree and decided against it, the bird could quite easily rip it from its roots.
What were the options? He briefly wondered before grasping at the sword to his side as a precaution, "Do you need help, mon ami?" He questioned, even though he knew that he would be very useless in a fight. There was still some small sliver of hope that the larger the mass fighting against the creature was, the better.
Glancing at the little Italian he asked, "Or would you prefer I protect the little tomato?" He asked. Clearly the little girl was not a fighter, judging from the fact he'd run away from the creature when it returned to its cave earlier.
Either way, the creature did not look happy and they had to decide what they were about to do quickly. Right about now would be a very good moment for a long range weapon, like... a canon launcher, yes, that would've been very useful right about now.
[[I'm brain dead right about now. owo" Bad post is bad~]]
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Post by Lovino Vargas on Mar 21, 2010 19:50:32 GMT -5
Lovino fell to the ground as the other man suddenly released his grip, thudding down hard on his hands and knees. A curse on his lips, he wheeled to scream at the Spaniard, but his voice caught in his throat at the descending shadow. "Ch... ch..." His customary scream never made it past his lips as he scrambled backward, eyes wide in absolute horror at the sight of the monstrous creature descending from on high.
Taking the most obvious course of action, Lovino turned tail and fled bravely took the smartest course of action and abandoned the battlefield. This wasn't his problem in the least. He'd barely run more than a few steps before he turned with a muttered "Merda!" and pulled his shortbow from his back, readying an arrow with the realization that, if there was only running figure, he'd probably attract the most attention from the flying monster. "You bastards better appreciate this," he whined, closing one eye to get a bead on the creature, but holding his fire until the beast came closer. And who's a little tomato that needs protecting!?" he screamed, glaring at the Frenchman.
Realizing too late that he'd shifted his aim to the blond, Lovino abruptly snapped it back to the creature and let an arrow fly.
Unfortunately, that only seemed to make it angrier. [/blockquote]
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Post by Antonio Fernandez Carriedo on Apr 6, 2010 13:41:33 GMT -5
Antonio could be gallant, would've wanted to be, at any rate but there were times and circumstances wherein that would not be the wisest thing to do, especially now that he'd gotten a chance to count all the 'not-so-wise' things he'd done under an hour, or so. He let out a rumble in his throat, some cross between a battle cry and a very strangled and pained one as he lifted the halberd and charged at the over-sized bird with ferocity and swiftness that could put a Roman cavalry to shame.
"The little tomato!" He called out, turning back to flash a smile at the two of them that said 'I can do this~' before promptly turning back to face imminent doom.
The animal swooped down, about to strike until an arrow intercepted its steady flight toward them. He blinked, turned back to see where the arrow had come from and felt an uncanny sensation on his arm, which, unfortunately, had nothing to do with the arrow or the Italian --but Antonio did offer another grin again, a sign of thanks before tumbling back to avoid having his eyes plucked out with extra large bird feet.
"Tomate Italiano, sweet like one too~" He managed in between experimental hacks in the air --and then finally, a wing fell to the grassy ground with a loud thud.
Soon, the tired bird followed it, nearly crash-landing beak-first into the Spaniard, had Antonio not taken that crucial step back once more.
His green eyes narrowed, surveying the damage in his arm that had just been wounded and healed awhile ago but nonetheless, relief washed over him and he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before falling over backwards on the earth.
Antonio had forgotten not to look so...dead, however and the expression on his face, though tired, was still.
Hauntingly so.
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Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Apr 7, 2010 21:05:03 GMT -5
"Such the pesky type, you are..." Francis murmured as he carefully backed away from the fiery Italian, "Really... if there were such a thing as explosive tomatoes, you would most certainly be it, mon cher, your temper is absolutely frightening." He commented, although he barely contained the snort of laughter towards the end. The only thing that could possibly distract him was the sound of the beak of the winged beast crashing into the ground with a thud. Attention snapping back to the important scene at hand, he clenched his teeth upon seeing the tired man lying against the earth.
Perhaps it was the years he spent accustomed to it that his reaction was so instant. After all, Francis did not make his money from merely picking up girls in various places, no, he was of use. They were often odd jobs requiring his alchemy, but they were jobs nevertheless and often they paid well because he did his job well, a fact he took pride in. Although he took, pride in a great many things.
Legs picking up pace as he jogged towards the other laying on the ground, the blonde sighed a little, the sombre tones of his voice echoing in the vast fields, “You should not have outdone yourself, mon ami he said, eyes examining the wound and the condition of his body. Rest, cleaning the wound and bandaging it would be the best course of action, he decided.
Clapping his hands at the brunette, his voice took on a commanding tone although he doubted the other would take kindly to that. "Take care of the Spaniard, little tomato, you owe him that much." He stated and then moved towards the bird that remained incapacitated on the ground. The steady flow of red, gushing blood from the wing assured him that death was assured to the creature and he calmed his mind at the thought. However, that was only one threat they did not have to be concerned with in comparison to… well, the Frenchman did not wish to think about the other various, dangerous creatures out there.
"We should get out of here as fast as possible," he said, speaking mostly to the Italian, he did not expect the Spaniard lying against the grass to somehow gather enough strength to raise his body up and become active once more, looking to that very man, he sighed, “However; I think we shall survive resting for a few moments.” Sitting on the grass, he took the pack that he always carried with him and began to rummage through the supplies, "I suppose an elixir could be of use, however, I do not often stock up on such supplies…” he sighed, examining the contents of his bag before he produced a few items.
Taking out a glass bottle carefully wrapped in a soft piece of fabric shut with a cork at the top, a wooden container with only a half of its original contents remaining, fresh bandages and a loaf of bread, he set them carefully on the grass and then turned back to the man lying on the ground. “Just rest while we take care of everything, mon ami.” He insisted with a smile and began to prepare the supplies for what he was about to do next.
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Post by Lovino Vargas on Apr 9, 2010 22:04:06 GMT -5
"WHO'S A SWEET ITALIAN TOMATO?!" Lovino screamed, letting another arrow fly without bothering to aim, not really caring if he hit the Spaniard in the process. "Goddamn bastard better hope the fucking bird kills you, because if it doesn't, I sure as hell will!"
Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on perspective), the bird had apparently failed to kill the bastard before dying itself, collapsing to the ground in an impressive show of futile force. Damn thing couldn't have landed on the bastard, could it?
"Why the hell do I have to watch the bastard, anyway?" Lovino muttered as he tied his bow on his back with a (dignified) pout and stalked over, preferring not to argue with the same man who'd so easily grabbed his ass. "I could totally take the damn Frog bastard," he salved his own ego by muttering under his breath and stomping over to the Spaniard.
"Oi!" Prodding the prone man with the toe of his boot, he crouched down and stared at his tanned face with a look of disgust. "Wake up, bastard, I wasn't done with you yet." Tilting his head, he glanced back at the Frenchman as his fingers inched toward the other man's pocket. Deciding not to risk it, he settled for smacking the other across the face, not bothering to hold back.
On the bright side, he could now go back to the creature's lair without fear... he supposed that he owed the Spaniard that much thanks, at least. Pulling a tomato from the worn knapsack on his back, he glared at the precious fruit for a moment before setting it in the other man's hand. "Better appreciate this, bastard," he muttered, an angry pout twisting his lips at the loss of one of his precious tomatoes. [/blockquote]
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