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Benavierre

Benavierre

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a part of Benavierre, by AxelZero93.

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AxelZero93 holds sovereignty over Benavierre, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

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Benavierre

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Benavierre is a part of Benavierre.

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Tyler Hadden [0] With everything else in his life, Tyler almost finds his strange awakening a gift. But he doubts that belief will continue.
Jesus Irizarry [0] The Silver Tongue

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The white mazda MPV pulled up to the carport of the small white cement house, where the car turned off before the keys were even pulled out of the ignition, battery absolutely drained. Jesus stepped out of the passenger side, wearing a grey hooded shirt with long yellow sleeves, a pair of faded black jeans, and his light brown boots. He walked over to the back seat.

"We really gotta change that damn alternator." He said to his father as he stepped out of the driver side. He received no response, problems with the car were not new, in fact they had even assigned the MPV a clever acronym, Most Problematic Vehicle.

Jesus opened the sliding door with a bit of difficulty, due to the tricky door handle, and pulled out his old army assault pack, a gift from his uncle that he had received back in high school. He walked into the house, welcomed by the typical smell of... nothing. Ever since his mother had begun working second shift at the MedTronic a few towns over, coming home to no dinner was a common experience. He walked past the kitchen and to his room, shrugging off the heavy backpack and carefully setting it on the ground, wary not to damage his laptop. He walked over to his bed and slumped onto the floor, exhaling a sigh of relief after a long day. Two hours at the gym in the morning, followed by about four hours of classes, and another three hours working as an IT at the school, usually left him absolutely drained. He had not eaten since his "lunch" at ten in the morning, and it was about to be five in the afternoon. He pulled out the nutrigrain bar he had saved in his pocket, sliding out the last bar and tossing the wrapper on the floor beside him. He began to eat, staring at the black screen of his television, two tired to search for the remote, or even pay attention to anything that may have been on at the time.

A familiar jangling sound was followed by an even more familiar feeling of a nine pound dog landing on his chest, before throwing itself around the floor, looking for attention.

Princess, his white shih-tzu, nudged itself a spot in between his arm, before curling into a ball. He began to stroke her back slowly and soon enough she calmed down. He continued the mindless motion for a while and soon she had fallen nearly asleep in his arms. He put his head back against the bed and closed his eyes, planning on resting them for a bit. However, within minutes, he too was fast asleep.


...Udme Aiadel Imenente Orpus Saman...
... Atem Udme.... ...Du ulom...




Jesus yawned as he slowly slipped back into consciousness. He rubbed his eyes and opened them, only to find himself staring at the side of small wooden building. His eyes immediately snapped into focus, his head turning left and right. "Wha..." He said as he stumbled quickly to his feet, almost falling back onto his ass. He had been laying against the side of another wooden building, very close to the other one. He seemed to be in an alley, but where? How did he get there? and where was he exactly? As far as he knew, there were no wooden houses in Puerto Rico, most of them were made out of cement to withstand the summer hurricanes. He saw some light off to his left, and followed it out.

Immediately he was welcomed by the blinding light of the mid-day sun. The dirt of the alleyway gave way to cobblestone road. And the silence of what should have been his room was the hustle and bustle of the city... a very, very old city. Street vendors lined the roads, peddling their wares, nobody was dressed in modern clothes, most of the clothes seemed to be made handmade. There were no cars, only a few people on horses, but most seemed to be on foot. He seemed to have somehow ended up in the commercial district of a medieval city. It was all such an oddly vivid dream

Suddenly it hit him like a punch to the nose.

The smell.

He grimaced, and his hand flew to cover his nose. Everyone smelled as though they hadn't taken showers for days, possibly weeks. Of all the sudden stimuli, this was the most awakening. He never smelled in his dream, it was mainly just sight and sound. And that caused it to hit him like a lead weight.

This was no dream.

This was where he panicked. He began to look left and right. His eyes wide with fear and confusion. People started to stare as his breathing began to quicken. Whispers and odd looks seemed to be aimed at him. He walked over to a nearby pedestrian.
"Excuse me, where am I?" He asked, grabbing their arm. The scrawny man jerked his arm away, giving him an odd look. "Where am I?" He shouted after him, but the man just quickened his pace and walked away.

He turned to a crowd of onlookers. "Where am I? Donde estoy?" He shouted trying in spanish. But nobody would respond. He could hear the whispers. They were clearly speaking english, but did not want to respond. "Listen, I'm not crazy, I'm just not from here? Help me please!" He shouted. But they refused to respond. He could here murmers of "crazy" and "bewitched" and mentions of his odd clothes.

It was all too much. He turned away, back into the alley, away from the peering eyes, leaned one arm on the wall, and threw up.

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Shadows laced the walls and ceiling of a one bedroom apartment as Sincere laid back in bed, his head propped neatly on the palms of his hands. His eyes pivoted to the night stand on his right and read the alarm clock present. 12:56 a.m. He cursed under his breath and the bulged next to him stirred slightly as he sat up slowly. He hadn’t meant to stay this long and some reason for the life of him he couldn’t get to sleep. Maybe he had finally come to terms that he was the man destined to ruin and break a lot of good women.

Tisha stirred again, her movement rippling the covers as she rolled to face him, exposing a delicate breast and cherry nipple. He groaned inwardly because he had promised to himself before he left his house that he would break it off with Tisha. That’s what he had come to her apartment for, not to have his way with her. He could feel that she had started to expect more from him than what he had to offer. He wasn’t looking for a stable relationship nor was in the market for a committed one. He would be lying to himself if he said that he didn’t want a different woman in his bed every day of the week. And he would be a fool to say that he didn’t try.

In fact Tisha wasn’t his only project and he had thought he made it clear that he wasn’t going exclusive with anyone any time soon. But, unfortunately Tisha wasn’t getting the message and just like all good girls she probably thought she could stop his womanizing ways or save him from the streets that was his life. Maybe he pitted her and that’s what was eating at his seemingly nonexistence conscious lately. Here he was enjoying his bachelorhood and here Tisha professing untold love to him that he know he can’t return. Sincere blew a sigh knowing he had only dug his grave deeper when he stepped foot in Tisha apartment.

Why couldn’t he be like other men and have the crowdedness to end it with a text message or a pm over Facebook? He just had to be the chivalrous player. Sincere crept out of bed careful not to wake Tisha in his shift. It was a shame that he had did this to so many women that when his feet hit the floor, the broads barley groaned under his weight. He searched hectically for his boxers and saw that they rested on the small pillar on the head broad. Only god knew how they could have gotten there.

He retrieved them quickly and was pleased when he saw that he had had enough sense to leave his socks on. His movement was swift and deaf as he collected his items, sliding his boxers on quickly. Sincere briskly grabbed his worn Levis, buttoning and zipping them as he went. He found his keys in his front right pocket and his wallet in the back left. Sincere gathered his black t and didn’t bother putting on his Nikes as he dashed out of Tisha’s apartment complex, locking the door behind him and into the parking lot where his black 2008 Ford truck waited. The process hadn’t taken him more than five minutes and he had been so stealthy that sometimes he scared himself.

Sincere breath hitched as he neared his truck and a sudden pitch of rage filled him. All the windows had been busted out and a polite white slip of paper rested in the seam of where his front window had once been. He snatched it out and read the words which was weaved and wavy in elegant print. Reap what you sow you bastard. He sighed at the note’s threat and knew it was probably one of his many “projects” that had wrote it and done the vandalism to his truck. He could also see profound key marks in his already rusty red paint job and just sighed. The steady strung of wind hit his bare chest as he swept the glass from the driver seat with his black t shit before putting it on and tried to start the engine on his truck. Yet when he cranked it he could hear the gears grinding and he shut the vehicle off immediately.

His gas tank was open and he could see sugar like crystals on the edge of the gas tank entrance and when he looked down he also saw three bottles of empty water bottles and a bag of sugar. This time he didn’t hold his anger in as he cursed out loud, kicking the tires on his truck. Now he was stranded in a place he was trying to escape and grudgingly pulled out his cell phone and dialed his cousin’s number. His phone read 1:05 a.m. and he was relieved when the thick accent of his cousin filled his ear. Sincere quickly explained the length of his situation and was satisfied when his cousin agreed to come scoop him up and save him from his personally hell. Sincere knew his cousin wouldn’t get to his location in the next five minutes so he hopped in his truck avoiding the sharp pieces of glass that littered the parking lot.

With ease Sincere pulled on his black Nikes tying the laces with grace as he dawned his black hat with the bold letters SWAG stamped across the material. He waited patiently for his cousin opening the glove department and finding the small clear plastic bag with Cali weed he had been saving for later to smoke. He stuffed the bag and a small red lighter in his left pocket and then laid back in the driver’s seat, his grey eyes stifled from view. With the cool breeze chilling his lean stature Sincere dosed off his eyes only snapping open when a sting of commotion emulated to his ears.
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Sincere sat up in a flash the sun a bit blinding as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, but that was the least of his worries. He smelt the stench of rotten meat mixed with the order of hundreds of unwashed bodies and it sickened him. He noticed that he was sitting on the ground and picked himself up and dusting off the back of his Levis pants where he had been sitting in the dirt. His surrounding were quit unfamiliar as he ventured from the back of a building his breath catching in his throat. Before him stood dwellings he had never once laid eyes on except in text books when he was in high school.


There were also men riding horses and merchants that called this way and that trying to haggle passing people into buying some of their rotten goods. People were dressed differently, some of them in mere worn rags and some those who rode horses or rode in carriages in fine cloth. As he stood there gapping he felt more than one pair of eyes land on him. In fact as he become more aware of his surroundings he noticed that quite a few people gaped at him and he felt a six sense kick in as he briskly walk the way he had come out. His pulse was beating and he felt as if he didn’t belong in this world and that this was more than dream. Sincere pinched himself drawing blood and almost sank to the ground from the realization that he was no longer home. The last thing he remembered was leaving Tisha apartment and calling his cousin to come pick him.


He had no memory of getting here, well whatever here was. His body shivered and not because he was cold, but because of sear fear. Sincere continued his trip around the dwelling from which he had come and ended up in a small alley and was startled when he saw a figure holding himself against the wall, vomit passing from his lips to the floor. Sincere backed up slowly his foot kicking a rock back by accident and he cursed inwardly. He didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention to himself especially from a man he couldn’t see clearly due to the shadows from a strange alley.

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Qyaji sat in the bus his eyes drooping periodically before flying open as the bus jolted along the bumpy road. He was tired and this ride was doing nothing to help him. He tried to ignore the sounds of the others on the bus and drift into a sweet and restful sleep, but unfortunately he was not afforded that luxury as the lady at the back of the bus decided now was the time to yell into her phone about all the places her man had done his side chick. He shuddered, not wanting to hear how vivid she got with her descriptions. He shook his head and pulled up the hood of his grey hoodie hoping that he could at least block out some of the phone call. Of course it didn't work and the woman only talked louder.

The bus soon screeched to a halt and he quickly got out. He had three more stops to go, but at least from this stop he was close enough to home, he had enough of the awkward talking. He watched the bus leave, and sighed. The rain fell onto his head, the light drizzle catching in his black locks and he walked forward with a skip in his step. He had mixed feelings about rain for the most part. He loved and hated it all at the same time and for valid reasons. First of all he loved it because it made weather warmer and the water felt good at times. He hated it because it always messes with his parkour and his clothes got wet beyond belief. They would always get out simply because he hated umbrellas. He found them pointless.

He turned and began walking, his boots silent on the pavement. He was always happy about that, his footsteps were always quiet and he could almost always move without alerting others to his presence. It had become even more refined after he had began his hobby of parkour and then afterwards free-running. A traceur's greatest point was being silent. The point of running away is not getting caught and what was the point if everyone heard where you were going? There was no point. So silence was a much appreciated skill in his profession.

He walked across the street, a few blocks from his home and shuddered as he remembered his earlier days in the art. He had to learn the rule of silence the hard way and that dog helped. He was on his way to a park with his friends to practice on the rails, you never know when you'll encounter those, and today was different. They had a hot girl, a hot and innocent girl. A girl he could not let his dick friend sink his grimy paws into. Bro code out the window that innocence was too pure to let his ruin it. She was such a kind soul, to say he wasn't just a bit infatuated would be a lie, but he was breaking too many rules in the code shared among men. To do that final atrocity would be to loose credit as a man, and he would not.

Throughout that day he kept her eyes on him at all times. No trick was off limits today. No matter what he tried he needed to keep her watching him. Keep her attention away from his friend and make sure that he gave them no time to congregate. He was going to cock-block every interaction and conversation. And it was while doing that he learned to be silent. It would be the difference between freedom and being taken home in a cop car. It was a good thing that he could run fast, very fast. It also taught him another thing, people are really quite stupid and refuse to listen when you try to explain something.

The lesson started when he decided that he needed to look cooler because walking gave the two time to talk. He looked over and saw a building and smiled. He tapped her shoulder and pointed to the roof and then proclaimed, "I can climb that." He saw her face light up with a joy that could only be described as childlike wonder. He knew he had to do it and so he did. He faced that building and pulled himself up on the first hold and jumped for the next and began to pull himself up bit by bit until he had done it. He had made it to the top of the first ledge where he could walk freely over the building entrance. He was heading towards the wall but the thing he saw next ruined his life.

There were windows in front of him where others were living, but he saw something he didn't think happened and it opened up his mind to a new world he would rather never have known. From the the third window down in a row of five, basically the center window, he saw a bedroom. This bedroom was normal, white sheets on the bed, a television on the table across from it, two night stands, a closet, and an three clothes drawers laid against a wall. The thing he saw was in the bed. The thing he wished he never saw was in the bed. He would never forget, but he would try for all his life.

On the bed was a beautiful woman that couldn't be more than twenty two. This woman had soft looking white skin, not a sign of a blemish or any kind of deformity. Her hair was long and blonde, falling over her shoulder in twirling curves of gold. She was naked, no clothing on her whatsoever and he found that he was immediately aroused. Her body was amazing and way more than he was used to at his high school. Her breasts were round and a little on the large side, but not outrageously so. Her legs were wide open and she was moaning, shoving the head of her lover into her pleasure spot and loud lapping could be heard. It was then that her lover looked up at her and barked.

Yes her lover was a dog. A dog. Not a man, not even a girl. In fact it was nothing close to human. The closest connection in that relationship was mammal. At that point he gasped loudly, breaking the silence of that scene and grabbing the attention of the woman. She screamed, the natural reaction of anyone caught in a situation this dark, and he wasn't scared. In fact, the only thought in his head was why couldn't someone as hot as her get a man to do it for her? How did that even start? He had no time to ask because she grabbed a phone and said she was calling the cops on his black ass. That was all he needed to know it was time to run.

He did, jumping over the edge and grabbing the girls hand and yelling to his friends to run. The park with the rails was not too far and he could make it in no time at all. In the safety of the park he relaxed and they managed to avoid the cops and the embarrassment of explaining that. It was then that he learned the golden rule. It was then he learned to be silent. Silence was the best thing to be if you were a ninja like he was. He smiled to himself and pushed his keys into his house door and opened it, shutting and locking it as he walked in. The house was silent. No one was home.

He walked down the hall and past the stairs, walking to the end of the hall where he opened a glass door and threw his bag into the living room as he walked. He kind of enjoyed these moments when he was alone. He started to sing a song he heard on the radio on the way there and hummed along. He shook out his hair, the locks shaking around his head and then returning to a rest position. He patted his black wet jeans and pulled up the sleeves of his hoodie. He walked into his room which was the door after the living room. He closed it behind him and landed on the messy bed. He didn't even take off his shoes. He fell face first and yawned.

He looked at the clock it read 4:30. He stretched as his eyes grew heavy and he mumbled sleepily, "Sleep before homework..." He was traversing the land of sleep before the sentence was finished.

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When he was woken up it was by the sound of commotion, something he was used to and so he rolled over and tried to get comfortable in the soft mattress of his bed before he grew stiff. He shot up and looked around in confusion and wonder. He wasn't in his bed. He wasn't even in his house anymore. The sights and smells were all different. It actually wasn't too bad, he was used to it. His stepfather didn't bathe often and most of the things here smelled like him. He noticed the smell was coming from the people that were walking past his alley.

He jumped to his feet and ran out of it looking around at all of the people, his heart rate was picking up when he saw the way things looked. He turned around the streets watching people walk by and calling out to them loudly, "What? Where? Everything looks..." He couldn't finish the sentence. He had no idea where he was. He fell back onto his butt and looked around the area as a crowd started to form around him. They looked at him look around with eyes that were not at all accustomed to what was going on. He was breathing hard and felt lightheaded.

One of them stepped forward and touched his shoulder and spoke. He couldn't hear them at first, his breakdown not allowing him to focus as he mind tried to process it all. He started to sing to himself, his voice high and nervous. The man released him and shoved him lightly and laughed loudly to the others around in the crowd. The man chuckled and turned to the crowd, "He's a street performer it appears probably trying to get attention. Look at the garbs of his land. He must be new. Good for some entertainment."

Qyaji stood and kept on singing as he wandered through this new place with no idea what he was going to do.

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Jesus lifted his head at the sound of the rock, turning slowly to see who had followed him in the alley. Before him stood a tall man, sleek in build. Jesus took a step back, squinting to try and focus on him. He didn't recognize the man, but he immediately realized that he was different from everything else he had experienced within the past ten minutes.
First off, his facial hair was too trimmed and shaped, unlike every other man here who either had wild loose facial hair, or completely shaved facial hair. His clothes were another dead give-away.
Instead of rags and tunics and clothes that looked like they belonged in a lord of the rings movie, he wore a black t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and a pair of oh-so-familiar nike sneakers, on top of his head was a black hat, the word swag printed across the front.

He had never been so happy to see that damn word.

"Y-You're not from here... Your from... Where are you from?" He said, stumbling forward, wiping his face. He stepped into the light, revealing his face and clothes, immediately giving away the fact that he too was dressed in modern clothes. "Where am I?" He asked, hoping this new comer could shed some light on his situation.

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Sincere backed away not entirely sure if the man that stood in front of him was friend or foe. He wasn’t able to see who stood before him until the man revealed himself in the alley’s crack of light that barely cut through the darkness. His cloths was rather familiar and he didn’t have the rough English Sincere had heard coming from what he assumed was a market. Even though these facts should have calmed him they only made his heart beat quicken.

His palms became sweaty and his tongue seemed to have grown a bread and made his mouth dry in a matter of seconds. He had to think. Was he having a hallucination due to the stimulation of the weed he had smoked before he got to Tisha apartment complex? He was a causal user and he had been getting his supply from his own back yard garden and knew it wasn’t laced with anything. Never when he had tested his own product did it have this effect, even when he had been drunk on top of it. No this had to be real. The only drug he could think of that would have such an effect would be popping mollies and he would be damn if he ever did such a thing.

Sweat dabbled his brow as he brought his left hand up to massage his temple to sooth the aching migraine taking place. He knew drugs was out of the frame, but what could have landed him in such a place. He wasn’t as in tuned with religion as a lot of folks, but he sure as hell didn’t believe in being transported to another time period. Had he been drugged and now hallucinating? Sincere doubted it and brought his right hand up to remove his black hat. His father had always said he would find himself deep in shit and Sincere guessed this is the sort of situation the prick was talking about. Sincere face scrunched up in deep thought and he wanted to punch something to get his frustrations out, but he didn’t need to get himself in more doo doo than he was already in.

Sincere listened to the figure before him taking in consideration the questions he asked. “California
 You?” Sincere said, his voice deep and strong, one that could have possible been in a youth choir that he was surly teased for. He didn’t know where they were any more than the man in front of him knew so Sincere just shrugged his broad shoulders.

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Jesus blinked at the mention of California. Finally something that made some sense... Sort of... He lived thousands of miles away from him. So what would the man be doing here? Or what would he himself be doing in California He eyed the man for a second. his more analytic thought processes kicking in. Judging from his clothes he seemed to be the typed of person Jesus would normally avoid, just because he didn't feel like dealing with the confrontational and cocky attitudes that people who identified themselves with those clothes tended to have. But He always gave the benefit of the doubt to everyone, having learned long ago not to judge a book by it's cover. And regardless of how different they were back... in 2013... or whatever... They were extremely similar now.

The man's body language told another story altogether. He seemed distressed, confused, sickly. Pretty much in the same state Jesus found himself. "Puerto Rico." He answered, pausing a second before continuing "You look about as lost as I do, but do you have any idea where we might be?" He said stepping over to the end of the wall and looking around the corner. "Last thing I remember was laying against my bed. I probably fell asleep, but I never left the house. Hell I've never been to this place."

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He wandered through the town singing songs that he knew off the top of his head. He wasn't thinking, but just moving on instinct. He had no idea where he was. He had no idea who the people around him were. He had no idea about anything. It felt like being back in school, the only difference was he knew people in school. He was all alone in this new challenge. No one was here to help him and no one knew what was going on. He continued to walk, his songs slipping into a rundown of his favorite Bruno Mars songs. Back in his own area he loved his songs and it made sense that they helped him deal with this problem at a time like this.

His singing was beginning to attract a crowd, they seemed to be interested in the sounds of the music. He thought to himself it must be different to what they were used to. He took a good look at them and the way they acted and dressed. It also didn't help that he looked so much different from the others. He noted the accent they had and frowned. They did not at all sound like the homies back in Brooklyn. He wasn't even sure that this was New York. It didn't seem to be New York from any time period. He put the thoughts aside and stood there singing as the crowds gathered.

He heard snatches of the conversations and the sound of coins being passed around. He soon ran out of words to sing and stuttered there for a moment. He heard an voice from the crowd, "Looks like this bard is out of songs. I knew it was nothing special. Just the way he dressed."

At those words Qyaji glared and words started to fly out of his mouth in a freestyle fashion, "Aiight sir you think you're so smart, but shut up sit back and play your part. Silence. All I want to hear. No talking before I flip your ass over and paddle your rear. I'm a dynamo, full of lyrical masterpiece, mess with me it'll be a catastrophe. I'm amazing new fresh and talented. Steppin up to me son? Nah you can't handle this." He paused as the crowd was silenced by the new form of music. They started to clap and he bowed, "Thank you all. Now give me three topics and I will make you a tune. Don't be shy!"

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Sincere just shrugged again, his demontour finally coming back to him at once. He had never been one to crack under pressure so why start now? With a sigh he dug into his pocket hopping to find some gum but ended up coming out with a bag of weed that he casually stuffed back down. He grunted with annoyance when he remembered he had left his pack of orbit gum in the glove department of his wrecked truck in Tisha's apartment complex parking lot. Come to think of it, waiting on his cousin to come pick him up was the last thing he remembered before waking up in this place. Another mystery yet he had to solve. He searched for his flip phone and when he didn't find it he assumed he had accidently left it in his truck after calling his cousin for some much needed help.

Sincere turned his head toward the opening of the alley that lead out into a market area and was astound when he heard modern day songs. "You hear that?" Sincere asked the man standing in front of him before Sincere made his way to the edge of the alley and peeped out. He was careful this time not to step on anything that would cause any noise and surprisingly he was quite stealthy. He guessed he got this good at stealth when he was forced to go hunting as a kid and sneaking out of girlfriends houses as a young adult.


There was a large crowd gathering and he knew from experience that a crowd usually meant something entertaining, rather it was a fight or a street performer. He looked at the cloths he was wearing and knew if he excited from the alley to see who was causing all the commotion he would be spotted. "We should probably go checked this out. Who ever is signing is defiantly intoned with modern day tunes, he may have the answer that we seek." Sincere said as he craned his neck backwards so he could see the man behind him.


"But we defiantly won't blend in well that's for sure." Just when he finished that sentence he heard a man from the crowd shout, "Looks like this bard is out of songs. I knew it was nothing special. Just the way he dressed." Sincere had a sinking feeling in his stomach when he heard those words. He got the idea that the man drawing a crowd to himself was just like him and the other man that stood in the alley with him, instead of the mastermind behind this strange turns of events as he hoped. All he wanted was someone to shed some light onto these strange occurrences so he could stop worrying himself with what if questions.


"By the way I didn't quite get your name. I'm Sincere." He said as he turned back to monitor the turn of events happening in front of him. He hoped the man singing the modern songs would perhaps move around a bit so he could see him through the thickly growing crowd. He wasn't yet ready to just waltz through that crowd to see for himself, but when push comes to shove he was sure he would do it just to satisfy his curiosity.

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He smiled as he got the topics that he had asked for. He started to walk around and think about it. He nodded his head and then turned tot the crowd, "Alright I need you guys to do some thing for me. Can you manage it?" He looked around as the people of the crowd murmured and most nodded in agreement. He smiled and gave them a thumbs up, "Alright. I know most of you white people can't make a rhythm so I'll have to ask you to just clap your hands like this." He lifted his hands and clapped loudly for them to hear. The audience started to follow and he smiled, "Good...now let me see. You wanted me to come up with a song for...pigs, maidens, and swords." He nodded and turned to the clapping crowd, "I can do that. No problem."

He took a deep breath to steady his thoughts, keeping tune to the beat with a head bop, and opened his mouth the words flooding out with little thought or effort. As he let his rhymes amuse the crowd he started to walk through them, ignoring the terrible smells that assaulted his nose as he did, and work his way out of the cluster. He was still very confused, but music helped him focus and organize thoughts. He knew that by the time the songs were over that he would have something thought out. He didn't know what he would configure, but it would be in some way comforting.

He started to walk backwards, keeping his eyes on the crowd and his mouth moving. He did not need to see where he was going. He figured he had a good idea of how things should be. He walked through the cobbled streets smiling and winking towards the amused crowd. It reminded him of lunch time back in his school when he had crowds similar to this one just gathered to hear him speak. He walked passed an alley and saw something familiar in his peripheral. He stopped, his movement and words ceasing and walked forward again, peering into the alley. He did see what he had thought. A cap with the word "SWAG" written in big letters. He turned to the crowd, mechanically and spoke, "Shows over today. Have a nice day folks!" He turned into the alley, his mind reeling and his throat dry.