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Snippet #2808285

located in Scarriden, a part of many of horror, one of the many universes on RPG.

Scarriden

Villains are not the most frightening thing in the shadows here.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucian Mitchell Character Portrait: Markus "Shadowfaux" Vasco
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LUCIAN MITCHELL
the villain - 2d2a2f - outfit
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xxand with the black banners raised
xxand the crooked smiles fade
xxformer heroes who quit too late
xxwho just want to fill up the trophy case
Lucian just raised his eyebrows as Markus implied his suit was "out there" last time. Sure, it hadn't exactly been just a plain old boring suit, but it hadn't been that- But he had a point. They unfortunately needed to blend in at this one, which meant simple. He just nodded as Markus said he would be back soon and that he'd message Luc if there were any issues. He grabbed his laptop from the loft, before settling back down on the couch to get a bit of work done on designing the suits. But no matter what he did, he couldn't concentrate. Something at the back of his mind was nagging at him, telling him that something wasnā€™t right. He told himself that he was just anxious, uneasy about being alone. But after a while, he became certain that it was more than just that. He slammed his laptop shut. He was still in Markusā€™ borrowed clothes, which would be good for helping him remain under the radar. He searched for just a moment to find a hoodie, before pulling it on and tucking his hair into the hood. Markus had left his knives to the side, and Lucian shoved two of them into his pocket, before leaving the apartment.

He wasnā€™t enough of an idiot to follow Markusā€™ trail exactly. That could raise attention they didnā€™t need. Instead, he made his own way to the tattoo studio and hung around until he saw Markus leaving, looking a little disgruntled. He was starting to think that heā€™d just been paranoid, that the events of the past few days had gotten to him. And then he saw them. A group of figures, hanging closely behind Markus. Lucian began to tail them. And when they started to get too closeā€¦ Lucian struck. The first one was on the ground before heā€™d even realised heā€™d been stabbed. The second managed to begin to throw a punch, but Lucian easily dodged, his knife plunging into his stomach. The next managed to draw a gun, managed to fire off a shot, but it missed Luc, who knocked the gun out of his hand and slashed the man across the face, before slamming the man back into the wall. ā€œYou tell me what you know, or you die,ā€ he hissed, the knife against the manā€™s jugular. He could see the man swallow, see the man try to decide which he valued more- his employer or his life.

ā€œTheyā€™ve been watching you. Watching both of your apartments, any time you leave weā€™ve been ordered to tail you and try and attack you. Capture is preferable but if you put up too much of a fight or draw too much attention, weā€™re just to kill you. Please, donā€™t, I never-ā€

ā€œWhoā€™s employing you?ā€ Lucian asked, pressing his knife a little harder to get the manā€™s attention and stop the pleading. Again, Lucian could see him trying to make that decision all over again. And again, he gave Luc what he wanted, telling Lucian the name heā€™d already been expecting. ā€œGood.ā€ And then in a swift movement, he plunged the knife in the other hand into the manā€™s gut, stepping away and turning to Markus. ā€œAre you okay?ā€ He asked, but didnā€™t wait for an answer before he started cleaning up the mess. This was an easy clean up, easy to pass off as a fight gone wrong. He wiped down the knives with his sleeves, kicking it across the ground to make it look like it had been dropped, before pressing one of the gruntsā€™ handā€™s against it, doing the same with the other. He never liked leaving his knives behind, but sometimes, it was necessary to cover his tracks. Once he was happy, he straightened back up.

ā€œListen to me. We only have a matter of time before they realise weā€™re not being followed. I have somewhere we can stay until we get a concrete plan in place. Iā€™ll send you the address. Go home, get enough clothes and supplies for a few days, bring our laptops, anything else you think we might need. We probably only have a few hours. Iā€™ll meet you there.ā€

Luc turned and left again, heading back to his own apartment. He knew it was a risk, knew they could be waiting for him. So he was cautious when he got back to his apartment and it was empty. He shoved some clothes into a bag with a few more weapons, as well as supplies for making their suits. He didnā€™t know how long theyā€™d be gone, but he wasnā€™t coming back here if he could avoid it.

His bag packed, he left the apartment, keeping his head down, sending the address to Markus as he walked. Heā€™d been renting out this apartment for a while, just to have in case things went south. He paid cash, and in return, the landlord kept a fake name and details on record. It was in a rougher part of town, but it did the job. As he got in, though, he suddenly realised that it wasā€¦ considerably smaller than both his and Markusā€™ apartments, only really meant for one person at a time, and not really furnished for comfort. It wasnā€™t ideal, but it would do for a few days. It would have to.

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