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Snippet #2763968

located in New York City, a part of Commedia dell'arte, one of the many universes on RPG.

New York City

"Can a city that never sleeps ever be a city of dreams?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Bashemath Character Portrait: Xander
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"Get away from me!" a man's voice cried out, in a dimly lit New York back-alley. It was barely audible over the heavy downpour of rain as a lone vagrant ran from an unseen pursuer. The man was was absolutely terrified, half drunk, and was nearly stumbling over his own feet as he scrambled out towards the road. It was his hope that he could escape into public eyes. But he couldn't keep it up, he had to stop to catch his breath, gasping and coughing, looking back at the alley behind him. He laughed hoarsely to himself, a half-crazed kind of laugh. "Just my nerves playing tricks on my brain..." he muttered, leaning against the wall with a sigh. Reaching into his ragged coat he pulled out a bottle, popping the lid and tipping it back to his lips.

"Tsk, that's bad for your liver, you know?" a soft female voice said, somewhat muffled as something snagged the bottle from his hand. That something was a tentacle of some sort, coming from an average height humanoid female in a black full-body suit. The man froze in response, refusing to even look at the figure, the look on his face frozen in horror. With a sudden twist of his body, he threw out a hand and produced a burst of steam and swung around, arms flailing, to run around the other way, but only hit another, taller figure, and fell onto his back causing a splash of water, and is knocked cold. The female immediately kneels down and leans over the man checking his pulse. "Geez, Xander, we need to be careful!"

"I am sorry, Bashemath, it was not my intention. He was behaving erratically," the tall figure responded. His voice strange, masculine but the tone was somewhat monotone, soft, and somewhat... distorted, not as deep as would be fitting to his body. The figure, Xander, squated down and propped himself on his knuckles. The figure, while... sort of human-like, was otherwise very tall, gangling body and arms, also fully suited but in a considerably different style, serving a different purpose. Xander, scanned over the body of the man. "The damage is superficial, he will survive. Besides, this simplifies acquisition."

The female, Bashemath huffed slapping her hands on her lap. "It's the principle of the thing! But... I suppose you are right... just, we can't go around hurting people, alright?"

Xander hoisted the man over his shoulder and stood up. Looking down at Bashemath, he simply nodded and held out one of his long arms, prompting her to climb up onto his arm and was hoisted onto his shoulder as well.

"Hey, Xander... we are doing right, right?" Bashemath asked.

"We are not violating our protocol," Xander answered.

"Not quite what I mean," Bashemath responded, laying her head against his shoulder.

"Left to own devices, this one would have died of any number of diseases, or alcohol poisoning, or murdered, or subject to a hit-and-run, or, likely a combination of all scenarios," Xander answered, more in depth.

"Again, not what I meant, but... all the same, thank you Xander," she responded with a short sigh.

"Should I include the potential for lethal animal attacks as well?" Xander asked.

Bashemath laughed. "What? No! I get it, okay, point made," she said, patting Xander on the head. "Lets just deliver the guy before he gets sick from all this rain, okay?"

"Understood," he responded. Undaunted by the weight of the two passengers, he turned and took off towards and unknown destination to deliver their captive, to a benefactor shrouded in mystery from the public eye.

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