Team Registration - The Ixidar Legacy

Team Name: The Ixidar Legacy

Team Members and links:
Isis Ixidar
Masika Ixidar

A draft of cold, air-conditioned wind fluttered through her short blue hair, brushing the stray strands of hair from her forehead as Masika made her way through the aisle to the front of the train car, balancing a tray of food on one of her hands. Rich patrons, dressed in extravagant tuxedos, were seated in their compartments in the dining car of the train, watching the scenery swish past them in a blur outside their windows as they waited for their food, seeing yet not watching the endless waves of yellow sand, glittering in their endless dunes under the Noon sun. The inside of the dining car was styled in an antique wooden look of a train that seemed to have come from the steam age, though thankfully, the mechanics beneath its woody appearance seemed to be up-to-date. Green and white checkered carpets lined the floors with each of the white-cloth covered tables placed in between cushioned chairs in the compartment, each with their own window. Drapes were held to the side of the window by tied cords with brown blinds that had already been pulled up and bundled at the top. It was a glamorous sight, but not something that many of the passengers appreciated. No, some of the patrons preferred a different kind of entertainment.

When she or one of the other waitresses passed by, they would bend down slightly into the aisle, pretending to pick up whatever random object they dropped, just so they could take a little peek at what’s under the skirt of the maid costume that they wore, or rather, were forced to wear. Unfortunately, a knowing glare from her doesn’t do much except make them bolder and more excited, to the point that they tried to reach out and touch her though she would nimbly dodge those advances.

Masika pinched the side of the very short skirt of her costume, trying futilely to pull it down more over her long legs. Well, if it could even be called a costume; the piece of clothing in question had sparse amount of black and white fabric, dedicated only to cover what was truly necessary while adding fluff to the edges. The top barely covered her more than moderate sized breasts, though the long slit down the middle to her belly ensured an almost ludicrous amount of cleavage. It was practically a bikini if you took out the bits that covered her abdomen and thigh. How it was kept in one piece was beyond her. It was hard to get on and she couldn’t hide any weapons under the flimsy clothing, but the make-up she had to apply to cover the Echelon tattoos on her body was an even worse hassle. Still, what truly annoyed her was how tight it felt, not to mention how utterly short it was in comparison to her tall stature. There weren’t many costumes available that even came close to her height, and this was the closest one, but not big enough in her opinion. She was always left out of any kind of fashion, having to rely on a private tailor or her own sewing to make clothes for herself most of the time.

A sigh escaped her, before a smile was quickly plastered onto her face as she reached her destination. “Thank you for waiting. Your meal is ready. I hope that your trip on the Blooming Flower has been pleasant.”

A couple of youthful, handsome men were seated across from each other at the table, smirking with their eyes as they followed the maid waitress’s movements. One of the men licked his lips. “It’s been most enjoyable, but it will be better soon. Let’s take a look at it,” he said, his eyes seemingly skimming off the plates on the tray next to her chest. “That dish looks utterly delicious, doll. Mind getting us a desert after the meal?”

“I-I will see about it,” Masika stuttered out as she placed their lunch plates before them and quickly walked away to hide the blush on her cheeks, but still, she couldn’t resist glancing back one last time. Their eyes were still trailing her, but upon noticing her looking back at them, they grinned. While they didn’t seem like bad people, there was something almost disturbing about the smiling expression that unnerved her, as if they knew something that she didn’t. She had to admit though, they were good-looking, but it wouldn’t be good to get in a relationship. It was just something that she couldn’t have right now; at least, not while her sister, Isis, was traveling around and getting into trouble. If there was one thing that was most troubling about Isis, it was the girl’s penchant for getting into trouble, and not just the easy type either. Some of the things that they had to go through, they barely scratched through alive.

An explosion outside the train brought her out of her reverie. In the once spotless waves of yellow were a multitude of dune buggies, riding alongside the train while leaving behind clouds of sands in their paths. The skeletal frames of the vehicles left nothing to imagination with its engine, cargo, and riders exposed. Some of the vehicle riders were hanging off the metallic frame, waving around their pistols or rifles as they occasionally opened fire on the train. Several windows shattered and the patrons ducked in their seats, screaming their lungs out as bullets ricochet off the insides of the train car. Instead of panicking throughout the affair, Masika dropped to the floor on all four limbs. Isis didn’t just have a penchant for trouble; she was a freaking magnet. She crawled forward until she reached the end of the train car where bathroom cabins on each side blocked the view of the windows. Just as suddenly as it had started, the gunfire stopped and the screaming ceased. With a single nimble movement, she flipped herself upright and quickly popped open the door. Only now did she notice the sweltering heat of the desert with its furious dry winds fluttering through her clothing like pieces of paper in front of a fan. She really needed new clothing.

Peeking outside the doorway, Masika saw the dune buggies take turns converging on various train cars. For a moment, she was tempted to use her ice powers to destroy one of them, but that would catch attention of every single one. Her eyes slowly narrowed as she skimmed over the passengers on the train car. There was blood, but for the most part, the majority of them seemed uninjured. If she caught the bandit’s attention now, the people here would be caught in the crossfire. Well, that is, if she herself wasn’t killed.

What worried her more was her sister. Isis was stationed as a guard for the train so she could be in trouble, or more likely, she was causing it recklessly. She had to find her and quickly, before the boarding invaders did.

The Blooming Flower - 13th Car, Private Cabins

There was no place in all the world as boring as the single lonely train, chugging across the desert on winding and often half-concealed tracks like some massive millipede or another. At least as far as Isis was concerned. The youngest Ixidar had complained to her sister a dozen times about everything from the size of their cabin to the obscenely sexual name of their transport, but in the end, she was forced to come along. After all without Masika, the girl didn't have a source of income and it would be utterly unbecoming of a king to be found starved in the streets. It was the equivalent of a cruise for the rich who had gotten tired of being pampered on ships out in the ocean and felt like being pampered in box cars in the middle of the last unexplored part of the world.

One glance out the window and Isis could have told you exactly why it was unexplored.

The girl sulked all day in her cabin, little legs folded together atop the couch and her chin propped up in each hand. Her face was dour and her eyes sullen, every so often shooting a glance to the outside world in hopes of something interesting only to lose all hope as it was just another cactus. Despite her poignantly income-less station in life, Isis had found a way to dress as if she belonged, with a fluttering skirt and a short-tailed coat stitched out of denim to look appropriately western; and to throw off the white lace lining every nook and cranny of her clothes. Beneath that, she wore a button up white shirt, tied at the neck with a thin black string. She even managed to afford a pair of fancy looking cowboy boots. Or rather, Masika had managed to afford it.

'After all, I'm still a girl. I like looking pretty sometimes.' Isis justified her choice of clothes in her head for the umpteenth time, which came right after the last time she had etched the boots every detail into memory out of boredom. She stuck her tongue defiantly in her reflections direction.

Cactus, cactus, cactus, dune buggy, cactus...

The young girl paused for a few seconds, the sudden change in decor taking a few moments to register in her simplistic brain. Unless cacti came with four wheels and guys waving around semi-automatic guns, that was definitely a dune buggy and this train was definitely being robbed. In contrast, it took Isis the next half-second to leap out of her seat and run out of her cabin just to run head-on into the nearest maid. The maid was lucky enough to bump into the food cart she was trucking behind her while Isis hit the ground on her rump and caught herself taking a look right up the woman's absurdly short skirt.

"Are you hurt, young miss? Please watch where you're going next time." The maid offered the girl a wary look, halfway caught in between reaching out to her and running before she was screamed at for running into some millionaire’s daughter.

"Guys with guns. Outside!" she shouted hurriedly, trying to point the maid in the direction of her window.

"The Zoldyke desert is uninhabited, young miss." The maid breathed a sigh of relief and went about picking up their plates she had scattered.

"No really! Bandits, outside, now." Isis sprung up to her feet, this time using both arms at once to direct the maid to the window.

"Oooh, bandits. If one kidnaps me will you save me, young miss?" she said through a stifled laugh. After all, it was just a child's game.

An explosion rocked the train and sent the pair tumbling from one side to the next, the sound of gunfire accompanying it barely a second later.

"I told you so, you slutty maid. Get out of my way!" The maid was too busy screaming to argue as she was shoved to the ground, her gloved hands clasped over ears and her mouth stretched open to emit an ear shattering shriek.

The Blooming Flower - Rooftops

"Why do we have to go across the roof again, boss man?" the wire thin conman said with an exasperated huff, brushing a hand over his sweat beaded forehead.

"So we don't get caught," the leader of the pack of three explained through grit teeth.

"It'll be a piece of cake, there shouldn' be any Marshall's on a shat hole like dis'." The fat one was convinced he was Jamaican. Too bad he was bad at it.

"Shut the fuck up! I'm the leader, stop asking questions." He wheeled around to back hand the smallest man, who in turn dove out of the way so the hand would flop harmlessly against the largest member of the trio.

"Besides, rich people have rich bodyguards. Rich bodyguards are armed to the fucking teeth. Those idiots we hired down there are going just going to fill body bags and distract them. Meanwhile we'll knock the train of the tracks and starve out those noble son of a bitches," the leader explained himself with a toothy grin, feeling quite debonair as his long locks whipped across his forehead.

"Nice strategy. But if any of them has magic then they can call Marshall's on you in a snap."

"Fuck off Piro, do you think we dragged that magic jammer all the way out here for nothing?" the captain jabbed a finger accusingly at the skinny man.

"Not me!" he retaliated.

"S'alittle girl, Derek." The fat man motioned for the leader to turn around. There was Isis, with her purple head poking just over the service ladder, chin resting on a pair of folded arms.

"Anything you left out? It's a pretty good plan." The leader leaped back with a start while the girl swung herself up onto the roof, caught halfway between waving before her skirt had to be yanked down lest it expose ankles in the flapping wind.

"Jesus fucking Christ! This isn't a place for little girls so you better run back to mommy!" Derek spun around, his fingers inching for the six shooter hanging at a looped in his belt

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way." Isis slid her right foot forward, grabbing the sword hilt hanging over a shoulder.

"This isn't a fucking movie kid and John Wayne's knees never knocked together when he shit talked," Derek said with a cocky sneer.

"S-shut up before I hire a six year old to kick your ass, pretty boy!" Isis stomped forward, her grin dissolving into a tight lipped frown.

"...!" Derek was dumb struck.

"Wasn' John Wayne who said th--" the fat man started to interject before an elbow hammered into his gut.

"Fuck off Bob! We're going to kill this little shit!"

The Blooming Flower - Rooftops, Five Minutes Later

Both parties huffed and puffed, everything from blistering black eyes to gashes across the forehead had been handed out but not a one had fallen. Isis stood poised, feet spread at shoulder width apart and her tiny chest heaving against the thin fabric of her chest with every breath. A dozen or more bullet holes riddled her clothes at various points but not one had managed to pierce flesh, even when it exposed things like the tender flesh of her thigh. Her grin had returned and from between tangled locks of hair, she stared down the trio. Several large stones were torn out of the ground as the train slowed to a stop.

"Fuck! You're really determined to defend a fucking pleasure train, aren't you? Always someone willing to do anything for fucking money!" Derek spat angrily, popping another set of bullets into the empty barrel of his gun.

"Ergh, what?" Isis stumbled on her words, a couple of the stones wobbly dropping out of the air.

"Ya'! Don't tell me you wasted all our time without knowing anything about this place, how fucking stupid are y--"

"What the hell are you talking about, this is just a train for bored old farts!"

"Old farts who are bored with regular sex maybe. This desert is just a big unclaimed sand box, no laws, so these perverts come out here and torment the chickies that take the job once they're in between international borders. A real family resort. No Marshall worth his balls would get on this train. That's why we're going after it. Easy pickings. What the fuck did you think it was?" Derek rattled on, watching as Isis' face slowly twisted into a horrified look of disgust.

It explained everything; the absurdly sexual name, the complete lack of children, and all the dirty looks the odd couples kept giving her. Even the stupidly short mini-skirts all the maids wore.

Random Port City - Streets, Several Days Later

Isis wandered down the street in a set of clothes and with an all new slump, Masika followed just a foot or so behind her in her mini-skirt. Isis' pretty little dress had been torn to shreds when she had leaped off the moving train, instead she had to resort to dressing like a poor person yet again. The makeshift black shirt was barely held up by a belt and the white button up shirt tucked into it was several sizes too big.

"I still can't believe you actually helped the bandits tip over the train and rob the place! What kind of king are you?" Masika had her arms folded over her chest, speaking in her best motherly tone.

"Sometimes the greater good isn't a glorious thing. They were just going to rape you anyways." Isis puffed out her chest challengingly, glaring over her shoulder in her sisters direction.

"Sometimes the greater good kills the people that were paying my check." she retorted.

"So you'd get **** up the **** with a **** **** by a **** for **** and money?" Isis said with a quirked brow.

"Of course not!"

"Then why are you complaining?"

"Justice doesn't feed stomachs!"

"We were there for a whole day, maybe you alread--" Isis stopped in the middle of the street, whirling on her sister with a look of mock-horror on her face. "Masika, nooo."

"What? Nothing happened, you little brat!" the entire city was staring at the pair of arguing sisters by now, attracted by a series of lewd thoughts about a particularly well endowed woman showing off almost all of her body. All of the body that was currently thrusting itself into her younger sister, crushing Isis' tiny body into a pair of watermelon sized pillows and threatening her with suffocation. This fantasy lasted until Masika let out a high pitched yelp, releasing her younger sister and cradling the breast that had just been bitten to the verge of bleeding. Meanwhile Isis scrambled just out of arms reach, her hands clasping together just behind her back and her knees turning in as innocently as possible.

"It’s okay, I forgive you." Isis said with a pout, never once breaking into a grin. "I'm so nice, you should treat me to dinner."

"Again..." Masika released her breast, having just enough time to sigh in defeat before reaching for her purse.

Isis always won.

Hello friends and writers. I am your judge for this trial, and I would like to say I very much enjoyed this little snippet, though I felt there was too much left out of it. Neither of your explained your reasoning much for being there, but the scene itself was well-written and enjoyable. There weren't many errors, so I didn't bother making note of them, but if either of you have questions about any part of this judgement, just send me a pm.

Story: 2.75

Masika (2.75) : Your descriptions of your character and her surroundings are extensive, but well-done. The reasons for your character being there, other than to be near her sister, were either non-existent, or not explained. Your posts read well, though, and you did manage to create suspension of disbelief, but a little more back-story on Masika, and especially her mysterious 'ice powers' that were only mentioned once, would help in this category.

Isis (2.5) : The backstory of your character, and her reasons for being on that train are just as vague as Maskia's. Your descriptions are effective, though, without affecting the generally fast pacing of your posts, and I believe you did the bandits justice. The sword on her back wasn't even mentioned until she needed it, though, and that would usually draw attention strapped to a 'millionaire's daughter.'

Character: 2.75

Masika (2.25): You explain Masika's mindset well through prose, and her dialogue, internal and external, feels appropriate. However, there was basically nothing of her life before this train other than what snippets one could assume from things like her not being able to fit any weapons on her outfit. The scene was well written, but I was not drawn into your character, or her story particularly strongly.

Isis (3) : I must say Isis is an enjoyable character to read about, and her quirky personality comes through in your dialogue excellently. Her reasons for being where she is aren't well explained, but that seems to suit your style a little more. Still, some background could only help you in this category. Unfortunately, you completely eliminated any action, and that led the post to feel more like filler. Your excellent dialogue almost makes up for it, however.

Writing Style: 4.0

Masika (3.75) : You maintain an excellent level of description and internal monologue in your prose. The characters you describe feel real, and their interaction suitable. You do tend to write exceptionally long sentences, however, and while you pull it off very well most of the time, the meaning of the sentence gets lost or confused occasionally. Breaking a few of the bigger ones down into more complete thoughts, rather than having three or four per sentence, will help with the readability of your posts. Overall, though, very well done.

Isis (4) : The shorter, more dialogue-heavy style you use offset's your partner's very well, and gives a fast pace to your posts. The descriptions are enough to give a good idea of her surrounding without slowing the posts down, and as I've already mentioned, your dialogue is hilarious and only adds to the already humorous tone of your posts. I think it's clear you've reached a good medium with your writing style, and there were hardly any errors to speak of.

Total: 9.5

Word Count Penalty: 0 (The thread was engaging enough for me not to notice)


Assisting Judges: Ataraxis