Cheetah
Villains 
This sort of thing doesn't happen to Barbara Minerva. I don't let it.
Posts: 129 
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Post by Cheetah on May 3, 2017 21:31:22 GMT -5
The smell of fear coming from The Vultures was almost intoxicating as Barbara watched them before slowly starting to stalk and circle them. She had given her sacrifice to Urzkartaga, so there really wasn’t a reason for her to kill any more of the men. However, she was a proud woman and by dropping crates, boxes, and the shelf holding them on top of her, they had insulted her. Barbara’s ego bruised easily sometimes, depending on her mood, and now was just such a time. Perhaps she wouldn’t kill them. Bodies would be such a waste, after all, and survivors with injuries often made more of an impression than dead ones. Her mind filled with thoughts of where and how to injure them, and as she mulled over these ideas, it briefly came to Barbara’s attention that she normally wasn’t this violent, but all of this felt normal to her, as if it was sort of a natural progression of her thought process. The more she lingered on this fact, the more unnatural and worrying it felt to her. This would clearly be a topic to discuss with Laura at a later date.
Bride of Urzkartaga? Barbara’s head whipped around upon hearing that title, the fire in her eyes was evident as she glared at the Phantom. However, it quickly dissipated as she stalked towards him on all fours, stopping a safe distance away. “You’re the second white person I’ve known to speak my husband’s name so knowingly and assuredly,” she said, standing up. Her cat-slit eyes were a mixture of wariness and curiosity, with the latter winning in the end. “How is that so? His followers and people are dead, his temple has been claimed by the jungle. Not even the natives in the area knew if such a place still existed. What makes you so special?” Her voice, much like her laugh, was rougher due to her changed vocal chords, though the English accent could still be heard.
“Do you really think that these men will give you the same courtesies? This may not be the jungle, but they are still thieving animals. You think the people who own what they stole would give them the same mercy and justice you wish them to have?” she asked the masked man. As she spoke, Barbara caught his scent. It was mixed in with whatever natural dyes colored his suit and, as well as whatever material his ring was made from. Strange, she had never known any metal to have such a smell. Either way, the the man’s base scent was the same as Mr. Walker’s. Well, didn’t he have his little secrets? But at least that explained his fighting abilities at the gala earlier.
Barbara carefully stalked around Kit, slowly and carefully reappraising him. Was this what he meant by being a guardian and protector? The Bandar were clearly a very interesting set of people, no doubt, but what did they know about Urzkartaga? “Very interesting…” she muttered to herself. Barbara was so intrigued by this little discovery that, as she paced around him, she failed to notice the gold masked thief creeping up towards them, behind cover and under shadows. The attack came quickly and unexpectedly, with the ceremonial dagger slashing up the length of her back before sinking into her side between the ribs.
*****
ooc: The ending was what had me stumped, since I know you want Gold skull alive, so I finally settled on this.
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Post by The Phantom on May 7, 2017 19:10:27 GMT -5
So it was Urzkartaga. Lucky guess, but she didn't need to know that right away.
"The tribe and temple did vanish a long time ago, or at least a long time for mortal men and women. In the age of a berry or leaf an eternity has passed, but for a mountain or the jungle it might have only been a blink of an eye. The Ghost who Walks has to see things from a long term perspective."
It sounded a little better than old files in the Skull Cave and campfire stories. Still the Cheetah seemed more amused at his knowledge than deterred from her path. She raised the good point that the Vultures wouldn't give them the same consideration.
"So you'll fight on their terms? An emissary of the gods should put herself above such bloodlust." He was cut short by Gold Skull rushing to attack. "Look out!"
He was too late, the dagger cut fast and hard spilling the blood of the Cheetah. Walker face turned from shock to fury as he lunged forwards, driving his right fist into the mask. The Vulture's face covering dented and cracked under the blow, showing that his skull mask was merely a cheap tool of intimidation rather than true protection. As the criminal fell back into a stack of boxes he tore the pieces of the mask free, showing what would normally be an unremarkable face if not for a very distinctive disfigurement.
He bore the skull mark, a sign that he'd been attacked by the Phantom before. The skull ring metal was coated with a universal allergen created from jungle plant extracts, branding the mark on those struck by it. This particular mark was on his left temple and had seen what must have been terrible attempts at first aid, the flesh around the mark was swollen and discoloured with the left eye forced into a permanent squint. Kit didn't recognise the face, reasoning that the Vulture leader had battled his father the 20th Phantom. But to those who knew of the Ghost who Walks and his legend every Phantom was the same man.
"You remember me don't you? What you did to my face!" The Vulture rushed back into cover, having dropped his knife when he was punched. "You'll remember when I carve you up and burn your damn jungle to ashes!"
Walker merely narrowed his eyes, kneeling beside the Cheetah and pulling a small cloth from his belt. Wrapped up in the fabric was a small pouch of medicinal herbs which he applied to the cloth and held against her wounds. They would ease the pain and prevent infection for now but it remained to be seen if she'd need further medical attention or would heal under her own divinely granted power. From what he could tell the cuts were deep but hadn't damaged any bone or organs.
After securing the dressing the Phantom stood up again, walking into the maze of boxes that the Vulture had hidden amongst. He kept silent, slowly filtering out other sounds except for the scuffling of boots and panting breath. Then a scrape of metal on metal, Gold Skull had found a larger weapon. Walker closed his eyes and pressed his palms together, focusing his energies with a mantra taught by the Bandar Shaman.
"By Jungle law, the Ghost who Walks calls for the power of ten tigers."
His eyes sprang open with a sudden flare of yellow light, a tiger roar was heard and the Phantom swung his fist once more. Though instead of a simple punch this was a mighty blow into a wooden crate that sent the container flying into the lead Vulture and sending him through more boxes before leaving him lying broken against the far wall. He weakly raised the fire axe he intended to use trying to defend himself as the Phantom stalked up to him and snatched it away. With almost disdainful ease he bent the weapon into a U shape and tossed it aside.
"You lost before, you lost now."
"It's.....not..not fair."
Walker didn't see any point responding. Though he'd survive with a few bruises the Vulture was destroyed in a way that transcended the physical. For now he pressed the skull ring into the whimpering mans hand to brand him again before returning to check on the Cheetah. Even if he recovered his mind he'd never build any criminal enterprise with two marks on him.
"Lady Cheetah." Bride of Urzkartaga was a bit too long to keep using. The Phantom knelt down and held her hand to check her pulse. "Shall I call you a doctor?"
ooc: Sorry but I kinda messed up towards the end. If you have a better idea of how to lead into your post we can discuss it over PM and I'll be happy to edit.
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Cheetah
Villains
This sort of thing doesn't happen to Barbara Minerva. I don't let it.
Posts: 129
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Post by Cheetah on May 9, 2017 22:35:26 GMT -5
“Such flowery words for a man wearing purple,” she chuckled, clearly amused by this ghost. “You clearly do not know how gods operate. Some are more bestial than others, Ghost. Some are old enough that they still crave blood.”
The initial slash took Barbara by surprise; a sharp, burning sensation from the back of her thigh all the way up to her shoulder. But, even as she turned to deliver her own retort of claws to flesh, she felt the dagger sink into her side, sucking the very breath from her lungs. Her mind split at that point; one half cursing her stupidity for not realizing she had grown complacent during her conversation with the Ghost while there were still enemies lurking about, and another, smaller portion terrified over being injured in such a manner and fearing her own death. The pain was different from the bullet that grazed her on the island as it remained quiet until she moved or breathed too deeply. But at least she could breathe. There was no difficulty in doing that, which likely meant her lungs were not pierced.
Barbara wasn’t sure if she had lost consciousness, but the next thing she knew, the man in purple was at her side, applying medicine and bandages to her wounds, to which she snarled at but otherwise remained still. He was not the enemy, she had to remind herself, at least not at this point in time. However, she was severely disgruntled at the thought of having a stranger’s hands running over her body in such a fashion. Yes, she knew who he was, being this close to his scent confirmed that, but still, her claws flexed and hands twitched as he touched her. The animal part of her mind wanted to slip from his grasp and find someone place safe to rest and lick her wounds, but she remained where she was, watching him carefully. The herbs and their properties were unfamiliar to her. Barbara knew that by morning, she would be fully healed or near enough that it wouldn’t matter, with or without the herbs.
Finished with his doctoring, Barbara watched the Ghost slip back into the warehouse shadows to continue his hunt. She kept quiet and honed her senses, wanting to make sure no one snuck up on her again. She listened to the ensuing scuffle, though the roar of a tiger caught her attention rather abruptly, causing her to move into a defensive crouch despite her injuries protesting.
The return of the Ghost brought a slight smile to her lips and allowed her once more to relax. “A doctor will not be needed. I heal fast. Far more rapidly than a normal human. By tomorrow, you will not know I was injured. Besides, neither a human nor an animal doctor would likely see me, and what native shamans that knew of my condition? They openly shunned me.” Still, she took her time getting to her feet. With a slight groan, she realized just how long it would take her to get back to her hotel room. “What now? A call to the police? Take the artifacts back ourselves? I’m not familiar with the proper procedure.”
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Post by The Phantom on May 12, 2017 17:52:30 GMT -5
"You don't trust anyone do you? If the rest of your tribe is the same I can see why they were lost. In any case the herbs will ease the pain while you heal. You won't find them being prescribed by any doctors around here but the earliest civilisations swear by them."
The Phantom took a glance around to check on the other Vultures, either lying dead from the Cheetah's assault or stunned from his own attacks. The stolen items were either still bagged or in the process of being sorted. Best of all the police had been informed of this location earlier thanks to the interrogation of the two captives back at the party, though they would be left with the cleanup. They would need to get a reasonable number of officers together along with the necessary warrants to raid the gallery and find the criminal enterprise working in the back rooms. Though the treasures would be checked into evidence the need to maintain friendship with the allied countries would most likely speed up the process of inspecting them for fingerprints and the like, thus allowing the prosecution to proceed with the items returned to their rightful homelands.
The sirens approaching indicated that the wheels of justice were moving on already. Kit turned his head in their direction before offering the Cheetah some support to get to the exit. If they slipped out the back they could hide in the alleyway and avoid any police attention.
"We should leave everything where it is. We've done enough and the police are almost here. I'd assume like me you'd prefer not to wait around to make statements."
As he made it outside the Ghost who Walks was greeted by Devil, fresh off his lookout duty and ready to go. Though the wolf briefly paused on seeing the feline figure with the Phantom. He sniffed, tilted his head and made a few strange noises causing Walker to turn back to the Cheetah, raising an eyebrow under his mask.
"So is this part of the standard archaeologist's working day Doctor Minerva?"
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Cheetah
Villains
This sort of thing doesn't happen to Barbara Minerva. I don't let it.
Posts: 129
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Post by Cheetah on May 15, 2017 6:02:10 GMT -5
“Trust is a hard thing to earn in my line of work, dear ghost,” she chuckled, though the statement wasn’t too terribly funny. “As for the tribe of Urzkartaga, I don’t know what they were like. They were nothing more than ruins and nearly forgotten stories by the time I came around.” As for the bandages and healing herbs, Barbara simply looked down at them, scenting them where she could. They didn’t smell toxic or deceitful, but then again she didn’t know what dangerous plants smelled like. Outside of her husband of course. “Your kindness is appreciated.” That was as close as she could come to saying thank you at the moment.
Barbara mirrored the man’s gaze as she looked around the warehouse. Destruction was quite evident, and she was curious to see what the morning papers would say about all of this, if anything at all. It was clear that this wasn’t just some nasty bit of turf war or exchange of goods gone wrong, especially do to her own bit of carnage. Gangster just didn’t rip out people’s throat or gut them like fish. Well, people that weren’t Artie Cade, at least. The sound of sirens was unexpected for Barbara. She had thought they were in an areas of town that did not keep late hours, but it seemed that she was wrong. Either that or they had tripped some sort of alarm, or a good samaritan had been passing by and heard the commotion. “I’ve no need for any of these trinkets here. My work is done and duties fulfilled. And if you think the authorities would just want my statement upon seeing me, instead of my hide, you are more innocent and naive than I first thought.” From what she knew, police loved to shoot things that they were afraid of or had no idea what it was. And who knew, maybe one of them fancied being a big game hunter. Not that she wanted to find out.
Walker’s assistance was welcomed, though she didn’t lean on him too terribly much, partly so as not to appear weak and partly so as not to get any blood or viscera on his uniform. Once they made it outside and were safely hidden from public view, Barbara leaned gingerly against a collection of stacked boxes, making sure to not allow any blood to be left on them. Naturally, the dog chose that exact moment to come out of hiding. She didn’t need to wait for the animal to make a deduction to realise her identity would be revealed, nor did she make an attempt to play stupid. Devil was an intelligent creature and both he and Kit would likely feel insulted if she tried such a thing.
“Oh, you know me, Mr. Walker,” Why not let him know that his secret was revealed as well? “An archeologist’s day isn’t complete until they come across an ancient, possibly cursed, jungle item that endows them with the physical attributes of a cat god’s wife. Really, it’s all the rage in most academic circles these days. More so than fighting crime in purple long johns, which I must say, the color is rather fetching on you.” Keeping this matter light seemed like the most intelligent thing to do right now. Crouching, so as not to appear intimidating towards Devil, Barbara gently reached out to see if he would allow her to pet him in this form. "You are clearly the brains of the duo, are you not? Good boy, Devil," she told him. “So, now that the proverbial cat is out of the bag, what do you propose we do, Ghost That Walks? Lovely nickname, by the way. It makes you sound like one of those serial detectives that they have on the radio.”
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Post by The Phantom on May 20, 2017 17:00:42 GMT -5
"I've heard of and met a lot of treasure hunters that have encountered or were changed by ancient powers. Despite the efforts of Von Braun, Einstein and Erskine the ancient ways are still strong."
Kit could only smirk as Devil unintentionally outed him. The wolf sniffed the offered hand briefly trying to determine intent, but after not seeing hostile movements or hidden food he decided to accept the petting. Barbara continued her teasing, not making any overt signs over what she intended to do with the information she had gained.
"It flows off the tongue a lot better in the original Bangalese, plus after using it for four centuries I didn't see any reason to break tradition. With that kind of record you could say that the radio shows might owe me some thanks for any inspiration."
The Phantom had indeed been fighting evil for around four hundred years ever since Christopher Walker had battled the Singh Brotherhood pirates that had murdered his crewmates. The Bandar tribe had tutored Christopher in the ways of stealth and the weapons of nature, then after they spread the legend to the other tribes. While the Walker lineage passed the Phantom mantle on each time they added the knowledge that they had archived in the skull cave making each successor greater than the previous. That knowledge however was only known to a few trusted allies however, to the outside world the Ghost who Walks was indeed immortal and it was a labour trying to prove otherwise.
"While your methods are somewhat vicious, you did a lot of good tonight. I'd like to offer you something."
Walker reached into his belt and presented Barbara with a coin, the symbol on it was four crossed sabres making the Good Mark which was the opposite of the Skull Mark used to brand criminals like the Vulture.
"While the coin itself has no value other than the copper used to make it, the symbol is a gift beyond value. You'll find that anyone who calls themselves friends to the Phantom will give you aid, shelter or protection when they see that mark."
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Cheetah
Villains
This sort of thing doesn't happen to Barbara Minerva. I don't let it.
Posts: 129
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Post by Cheetah on May 24, 2017 6:55:17 GMT -5
Barbara frowned at the words Kit chose to describe her as. “I am hardly a treasure hunter, Mr. Walker. I am an actual archeologist. I go out and explore the world, not unlike the many people before me, in order to learn more about past societies and cultures, not to simply rob tombs and sell items to the highest bidder.” If they had to get technical about things, Barbara did both, but that fact was neither here nor there. “I'd accept your previous label of guardian before being called a treasure hunter," she told him. "Have you encountered anyone with my sort of dilemma? Not that it’s much of one. I’ve been enjoying these abilities so far.” It would be nice to know if there were other cat people or similarly affected individuals like her.
She smirked as Devil accepted the pets, though she was not about to say that it wasn’t the dog who gave away his identity. She knew his scent and would be able to recall both him and Devil’s idiosyncrasies, as well as follow them if she wanted to. Not that she did. She had no reason to treat him as prey or the enemy. Up to now, Mr. Walker had been a perfect gentleman and an honest-to-goodness hero. “Four hundred years? I'm impressed. Are you that old or is this more of a family tradition?” She wouldn’t have been surprised if he had answered ‘yes’ to either of those questions. Jungle lore had plenty of tales of people finding longevity through magical concoctions and artifacts.
“My methods may be vicious, but no more than any other jungle cat. If I did not have sharp claws and teeth, I would use pistols or a rifle like you do. I’m sure that four hundred years ago justice would have been a bit more ruthless and longstanding for these men than what happened to them tonight.” History never liked thieves much.
The coin was unusual. At first Barbara thought it to be a doubloon of some sort, but upon closer inspection, no legal tender would ever have such a simple stamp as identification. She couldn’t help but smile at such a gift and the benefits it brought with it. “Do you many people in this country that call you friend, or are there more in Europe and Africa?” Such information would be helpful and the thought of using it to get her good through sticky custom situations did cross her mind… should the need ever arise. “Thank you for this. This is the first time anyone has given me a form of protection. But, I feel at a disadvantage, Mr. Walker, because I have nothing to give you in return. My mother raised me proper. All I can offer is this.” She leaned closer and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “As well as promise you an elegant meal at a fine restaurant, should you ever request it. Is that an even trade?”
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Post by The Phantom on May 29, 2017 16:09:38 GMT -5
"I'm sorry. Those were poorly chosen words. Be assured I have the fullest respect for your work." Treasure hunter being used in place of archaeologist was an honest slip. "Though I do hope that your patron chose you for a good purpose, a guardian of knowledge is an honourable goal."
He could only smirk at the question of his title being inherited or if he was actually immortal. A straight answer, truth or lie, would likely lead to further questions and risk exposing more than his identity. As good a person as Doctor Minerva was Walker couldn't risk anything slipping out that could cause any danger to Bangala, especially the pirates of the world losing their fear when they found out their nemesis was merely flesh, blood and scare tactics. Even a false admission of truly being a 'ghost who walks' was practically an invitation to test out the limits of such a boast.
Thankfully Devil's attention seeking and the gift of the good mark was enough to change the subject.
"Even I don't know how far the mark has travelled, but those who oppose piracy in any form know to honour those who carry it while most villains are smart enough to fear it."
The records in the Skull Cave had quite a few stories about the effects of the good mark, such as the Jungle Patrol adopting it as a badge among their ranks, jungle tribes adorning the symbol among their paintings and ships flying it among their colours as a warning to those that would do them harm. Even the ruffians of many dockside bars in Africa were known to keep their heads down and act civilised when they saw someone who seemed to be an easy target carry the mark.
"Admittedly you seem like you protect yourself just fine, but hopefully you could find some other aid if you ever need it." He bowed and kissed the back of Barbara's hand in respectful return of her own offer. "That sounds like a fine trade Doctor. I hope to take you up on it someday. But for now perhaps we should part ways before the police wrap up their arrests and cordon off the area?"
Devil perked up his ears, sensing it was time to retreat back to the hotel, with one last affectionate nuzzle against the Cheetah's hand he bid her farewell in his own way, while Kit Walker scaled a nearby fire escape and made ready to leap out towards the road when the next large vehicle passed. Even now a suitable truck approached. He gave one last salutation to the Doctor before he jumped.
"Safe travels Cheetah, bride of Urzkartaga and guardian of the past. May our paths cross again soon."
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Cheetah
Villains
This sort of thing doesn't happen to Barbara Minerva. I don't let it.
Posts: 129
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Post by Cheetah on Jun 7, 2017 6:02:47 GMT -5
Kit’s sincerity was touching and it was a breath of fresh air to Barbara. Most would not have backtracked their description of her, instead they would have doubled down, basing their opinion solely on her sex. Women just didn’t have a mind for the sciences, she had most often heard. “I appreciate your apology, Mr. Walker. You have been nothing but a gentleman this entire evening. In both attires and identities.” As for his second comment, she just smiled a bit ruefully. “My patron chose me because the thorns that covered his statue caused me to bleed upon it. He awoke and… I was his bride from that moment on. I don’t believe I had much say in the matter.” To be honest, she wasn’t quite sure if she was a bride of opportunity or if Urzkartaga had other reasons for choosing her. “Either way, we are growing and beginning to understand each other. He is not that bad of a husband. A bit set in his ways, but he leaves me to my own devices for the most part.”
Barbara smiled as Devil seemed to enjoy being petted by a giant feline; an odd sight to say the least. “I am thankful for the added protection, luck, or assistance either way. Hopefully I will never find a reason or need to use the coin and its mark.” And if she did, Barbara hoped that Kit or any associate close to him was nowhere near her at the time. She had the feeling that she’d use the mark for seeing through the more illicit dealings than actually protecting herself from evil and pirates. A horrible and dastardly use which undoubtedly warps the mark’s original purpose, but Kit didn’t give specific guidelines for its use, did he? He only said that it would provide aid, shelter, and protection if she showed it to the right people.
“A lady, even one who is able to protect herself, never looks down upon any assistance offered. Thank you, Mr. Walker.” She smiled at the kiss upon the back of her hand. Yes, most definitely a gentleman, this one. The sound of voices gradually getting louder and more numerous alerted Barbara to the fact that, yes, they were still at an active crime scene. “You’re right. I think we’ve both been interviewed enough by the police already. No need to add to that tonight.”
She watched him climb upwards and salute her in farewell, to which she gave her own wave in departure, before starting her own escape. “May we meet again, Ghost That Walks.” Once he was out of sight and the truck’s motor had dispersed into the general sounds of lat-night traffic, Barbara made her own way to the rooftops. Her method of getting back to her hotel room wasn’t nearly as easy or dramatic as the Phantom’s. Nor would it be as fast, due to her injuries. However, she didn’t mind the added time it took, as it allowed her to think back on this most extraordinary night.
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