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by Patcharoo on Wed Jul 06, 2011 2:10 am
OOC notez: I won't be posting this length, just trying to set up the scene. First to post decides post order.
The warehouse was a dark and forboding location, made only worse by the darkness of the night and the bare slither of moon that remained in the sky. There was very little light inside the building, a single lamp over a metallic work bench in the corner closest to Main Street. It cast a dull glow about the room, providing little other than faint outlines of the rest of the room. The workbench had tools scattered over the top, all made from the same unidentified dark metal. Some were more neatly hung on the walls. To the corner just across from that was a tiled area, simple wash basin and chair, prompting ideas of hair dressing salons.
Up the back was perhaps the most sinister section, boarded off from public view. In one of the boarded off areas there was a large metal skeleton of two chairs, back to back, a needle sitting roughly at head or neck height.
There was only one door to the warehouse, other than the large roller doors and their lifeless chains. Only one way in or out. Presently Issyl stared at it. He was a strange creature, deathly pale in skin tone with matching long white hair and dark clothes like some terrible goth recluse. He was sat atop the work bench and his feet didn't even make it half way to the floor. In fact, he didn't even seem like he was halfway through his teenage years. A large hourglass, with a lengthy metallic spike on each end, leant on the table between his legs. The lanky individual didn't look like he could lift it.
"He's here," came the youthful, yet at the same time aged voice. It was youthful in a way that would imply a young body, but aged in a sense of experience.
He was not alone, no, having lead a friend, or rather a person he had happened to run into twice, to this location to hide from the police. His head swept around to grin at Kiriel as the door was opened, entering a man in dark clothing.
He had been growing his hair for some time now, having it settle just past his ears, though it was brushed to either side, keeping it from his eyes. He was a beautiful male by choice, although with his current bowl cut he looked a touch foolish. And nervous. His movements were not as smooth as his clothes nor looks. Every step seemed to be the slightest bit hesitant. He noticed Kiriel and hesitated, but... assuming Issyl knew what he was doing, the woman was neccesary, right?
"This is my associate Issyl, and... his associate. No jokes about the age gap, please," he uttered quietly over his shoulder, in the direction of Audrey.
Tonight was it. The moment he changed his life, rather forever, and maybe the lives of everyone in this room.
Circ wrote:When I first joined RolePlayGateway, it was a place where positive conflict fostered creativity and friendships were formed rather than cliques. Honesty and transparency were valued, new people were incorporated into the community rather than judged based on what style of writing they preferred, and despite the youthfulness and zeal of the population there prevailed a reasonable degree of common sense.
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