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Checkmate

The Black Castle

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a part of Checkmate, by Shané.

The main Headquarters of the Black Chess.

RolePlayGateway holds sovereignty over The Black Castle, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

112 readers have been here.

Setting

Here the Black King rules. The one place a White Chess piece wants to know it's whereabouts and the one place they do not want to go.
Those who enter the Black Castle don't usually return, unless you are a Black piece that is.
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The Black Castle

The main Headquarters of the Black Chess.

Minimap

The Black Castle is a part of London.

1 Places in The Black Castle:

3 Characters Here

Dimitri Tatsuki [0] Black Bishop #2
Thyrone Black A.K.A Col. Razorback [0] White Bishop... Your mother died! all that sucks now get your ass up and moving...
Stephan Wynter [0] "The only ones who should kill, are those who are prepared to be killed."

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Zale Mitakos

The heavy footsteps of a man whose mistake make these footsteps his last. They were told that whenever entering the Black Castle, to always make certain detours, but today, he didn't and went straight for the underground passageway. The echoing sound of each footstep made his journey even more threatening. Slowly opening the black door, he placed his right foot onto the carpet and his left foot then followed as he advanced one small step forward. With one hand in his pocket, he froze facing forward and took a long and deep breath. Zale had seen him and he was pretty sure the guy knew he'd seen him.

"I'm here," he said loud enough so he could hear, he still kept his stance and refused to look at him.

Waiting for the sound of the other Knight getting up and walking towards him was intense. He wondered if the man would give him a chance to explain or at least give him a reason to let him live but then again, he was ready for the bullet. Many thoughts crossed his mind, most of it was regret, he hated the fact that his family had to start a whole new life for him but it was better than losing any of them. Then, the faces of all the people he had killed all popped up in a millisecond, they all had families so why did Zale do everything he did? These thoughts were very quick but during that time he was thinking like a completely different person, this actually scared him more than anything he'd ever done.

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Doser Bulard

The sound of footfalls would never come. Nor would the telltale, metallic rattling of a bullet being chambered. Instead, a different sound would ring out in the empty hallway; the small, yet sharp chink! of an old, worn-down Zippo lighter flipping open, followed closely by the rasp of metal on flint. "I got eyes, ye twat.." Doser's gruff voice would be muffled, slightly, as he spoke from behind a cigarette, the tip flaring, slightly, as it took to the open flame of the lighter. Technically speaking, smoking indoors was illegal, but what would they do?

Call the cops?

Sighing quietly, which would also release a long trail of smoke from his lips, the man would sit back on the bench, his arm draped casually over the back rest. With his fingers, he gestures to the empty seat next to him. "Sit." It wasn't a request.

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#, as written by Lace
Cirque Crayjem; The Black Queen

She made her way into the black castle through a back detour she learned to take; not far from the pub she had just finished, and as Cirque made her way down the hallway with her blood stained heels hitting the floor, she reached the upper level while throwing her gloves off and tossing them onto a chair. She made little progress today; she didn't count killing a stupid little pawn as much progress but at least it was something she had done. She passed two men who were apart of the black chess organization; and she glanced at them and smiled at them before making her way past them; sliding her hips between them as she made her way down.

She walked down another hallway into a rather large black and red laced bedroom, taking off her heels and throwing them into a dirty basket by the closet. She undressed herself, changing into a tight black dress with lace leggings and a new pair of black heels with red bows on the front and lace gloves. Her clothes were all covered in blood and she didn't feel like having to walk around with it. After she had changed quickly; she walked out of the bedroom and down a flight of stairs. She hadn't yet seen the Black King; and she wondered what he was up to.

As she walked around the hallways, she brushed her hands through her hair and she put on her black hat with the black veil. She had plans; orders... she needed to get some people to stake out the club for her. She didn't want to do it all night; she had other things to do. She made her way slowly to the black cell, wondering if anyone was torturing a pawn or something of the sort. There wasn't much she could indulge in right now. She needed news; she needed information. She needed a mission.

But then... she remembered the two men in the hallway. Perhaps she could find something to do there. She quickly made her way up a flight of stairs and back down the hallway that she had first come into; and she saw the men were still their. She adjusted her lace gloves and gave them both seductive smiles. "Hello, gentlemen. I do hope I'm not interrupting; I find myself at a loss for activity and my curiosity led me here." she said, leaning against the wall and looking between the two.


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Noel MacDonald; Black Bishop

A man stood in the hallway, leg bent and propped comfortably against the wall as his hands flailed about, gestures accompanying the flurry of words that flowed freely from his lips. His Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band t-shirt stood in contrast against his surroundings; dirty white against crimson, his voice, practically screaming Britain's favorite 'C' word, echoing throughout the normally silent hallway. He stopped, taking in a few breaths, and continued once more. Noel MacDonald, Black Bishop supreme, was out on a ranting-spree, and this time, his victim was an amused, though slightly perplexed pawn he found lazing about in the hallway.

He was ranting about last month's girlfriend. Jenny was it? He didn't bother remember her name, she wasn't very remarkable anyway, but ask and he could tell you a detailed, in-depth description of how utterly horrible she was. And that was exactly what he was doing. Ranting. Ranting about Jenny and their problematic relationship, about how much she hated his beloved Superman t-shirts, and her temper. Her explosive temper. A temper much like Noel's coupled with the burning intensity of a thousand suns. Maybe a million, but he wasn't too sure.

"...and she was all, 'YOU BLOODY IDIOT!', and I was all, 'WELL IT AIN'T MY BLOODY FAULT!', but she wasn't havin' of it so I..." Noel paused, mid-rant, and sighed. "Y'know what? This is getting bloody boring." He muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Later, loser." And with that, he pushed himself off the wall and made his way down the hall, leaving a rather bewildered pawn shaking his head, wondering what the hell happened.

Sighing, he made his way to his workroom, or 'Noel's Bloody Imaginarium' as he called it, which is basically a room located at a secluded area of the castle with nothing but a cluttered work desk, a chair, a few rolls of paper and a speaker that blasted music 24 hours a day. The room was practically covered with all sorts of posters ranging from his favorite bands to those of Superheroes. It was where he spent his time planning and mapping out every single one of Black Chess' operations. And that's what he's planning on doing.

Closing the door behind him, he made his way towards the desk, careful not to step on any of the crumpled balls of paper that littered the floor. No one else but the Black Queen, the Black Knights, and The Black King was allowed to enter the room, at least without his permission, so it was basically up to him to clean the place. But, of course, he wasn't planning on doing that anytime soon.

Sitting down, he took out a fresh sheet of paper and closed his eyes, letting the thoughts flow into his mind. All the while nodding his head to the beat of Kasabian's "LSF (Lost souls Forever)".

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Slowly opening his eyes, and taking a look around his small office, Stephan got out of the desk chair. The Black King had taken an hour nap; it was to refresh his calculating mind. He had planned to give orders to his queen and knights to go interrogate some more White Chess pawns, but what would be the point of it? There was no point in killing pawns, it would be better if they got their hands on a Knight, or Bishop. Still they had to make do with other methods. These methods could be anything. Picking up a piece of paper Stephan thought about anything that had happened over the weeks, and remembered the blunder that Zale had caused.

The guy brought him results every time, but now there were no results, he didn't get any useful info out of the victim. It was a huge let down, one that he probably would not forget so easily, yet he wondered how stupid and pathetic Zale must have been to not be able to get the results. He knew that what his knights did was not easy, yet how hard could it be to torture someone? He didn't know but he thought that something like that should be simple. If Zale didn't have any good news for his absence then he should hope that Stephan was in a good mood otherwise he'd be digging his own grave.

Ripping the paper out of anger, Stephan looked across his desk to a wine bottle. It was well known that he loved wine, and often he'd take a sip of it, in the sanctuary of his office, undisturbed. A soft padding went on in the office as his black boots hit the floor. He wasn't going to drink the wine, not yet.... Picking it up, one thing he immediately noticed was that there was no damn label on it. "Trash," Stephan said as he let it fall down into the brown trash bin that was by his door. He had one rule about wine, always have a label, have something printed on it telling what it was; he didn't want to drink something he had no clue about.

Somewhere in the office building he heard noise, tiny and barely audible as it was, he still heard it. Taking his time to open the door, he was doing this so that it would creek, and stepping out Stephan was now on his way to find out who was back to Black Castle. Hopefully, Zale was back with acceptable results.

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Zale Mitakos

The sound of the lighter irritated him a little, sure you couldnt help addiction but why did one start igniting the death stick an consume the harmful chemicals in the first place was a mystery to him. "I got eyes, ye twat..", Zale scoffed lightly, rolling his eyes. God, the smell of the cigarette was really getting to him which you could tell by his facial expression, in the bluntest way possible, he looked pissed. The scruffy looking man sighed letting out a trail full of carcinogens and that was the ending point. "Before I sit, did you know secondhand smoke contains more than 50 cancer-causing chemical compounds? So, if you don't mind," grabbing the cigarette out of Doser's hand he walked over to the bin and put it out, "Smoking Ambergris is fun, you know, whale vomit, but I actually care for my health," speaking with an apathetic expression, Zale knew he was pushing it. 

Walking back towards the bench, he slowly sat down facing forward, "listen, if you've got to do it then just do it, I'm not going to fight you, but just so you know, I got her fingernail," a slight smirk appeared on his pale pink lips, "but yeah, go ahead man," he had done enough talking for one than he usually does in one conversation and it was time for him to just listen. 

The Queen walked past and gave them a smile and Zale gave her a nod of respect and looked at her walk away. There was always something about Cirque that whenever she was entering, leaving, or even just lingering in the room he couldnt take his eyes off her. Not in a cheesy romantic way but just in a professional and respectful way, like he said before, there was just something about her. 

"The Jack of Clubs reported that the White Queen was back to work already, the White Chess are probably working hard and fast on a reaction to our activities and I think that getting rid of the Queen will weaken them, you saw how quickly they acted, they stopped all of their activities," Zale explained, slyly hinting at Doser that he should let him live.

The Queen returned and Zale fixed his eyes on her, "not at all, we were just discussing an option of picking up at the White Rose Case again," embarassed at the fact that he had to say again

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Dimitri threw his cigarrette on the ground and stamped on it, putting it out. He continued to walk, entering the street on the other side of the alleyway. He pulled his hood up over his head and put his hands in his pockets. I guess its about time to head back to the Black Castle and do some work. Dimitri walked down the street, passing a stand of fruit that an old man was selling. As he walked past, he slipped an apple off of the stand and continued walking, taking a few detours before entering a parking garage, and walking over to a lone door and walks in. When he walks in he notices the two Knights and the Queen. Well this seems interesting, but I'd rather not get involved in anything that involves the Knights, he thought to himself, allowing a smirk to spread across his lips.
Dimitri walked past the group, pausing to give a slight nod to the Queen, "Cirque." He continued to make his way down the hallway to his office. He quietly pulls the apple out of his pocket, and takes a bite as he entered his office. The office was pretty clean, sure there were a few things that weren't in their spots, but it wasn't too bad. He sat down at his desk and turned on the computer. Once he logged on, he opened a game of chess, electing to play as the black side. While he played he also pulled up the internet and started to search through some information about the White Chess quietly.

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#, as written by Lace
Cirque; the Black Queen


Cirque was amused as she got to stories from both the black knights in front of her. One saying she was allowed; the other giving her a silent warning that some trouble was going on... but perhaps she would find fun. She was already amused and when they had greeted her; she had given them both seductive smiles as she leaned against the wall as she looked over at Zale with a smirk as she ran her right gloved hand through her silky blonde white hair that fell on her shoulder as if it were made of silk.

"The White Rose Case? That's quite the case... you've decided to bring it up again; perhaps I can lend my expertise?" she said, giving them both smiles as she played with her black lace gloves. She was bored; she might ask the king if she could be given some specific mission since she found she had run out of much to do. "I was staking out the pub today; all I got was a horny bar tender. I find it boring; I enjoy killing, not sitting around watching horny men drink beer." she said, her dark brown red eyes flicking between the two with a fierce indication that if they smiled, giggled, or snickered she would give them a deathly glare. "Brief me on this case; I'm interested." she said, looking down at her black long nails as she waited for one to start.


[I didn't really know what to have her do so I hope this is alright.]

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Dimitri searched through the information that popped up about the White Chess quietly. Switching back to his game of chess, moving his bishop and 'killing' one of the white pawns. Heh, this game is really quite ironic, considering, he thought to himself, taking another bite of his apple. He switched back to the internet and continued to search through the information, hoping to find something of some importance. He clicked from webpage to webpage quickly, skimming all of the information.

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Doser Bulard

Doser suddenly and very quickly reaches over and around Zale's neck, to which the young man protests loudly, though his complaints are muffled by Doser's strong cinch on his windpipe. He continues to speak to Cirque, now, actually turning his head to shift his gaze, more or less, towards her eyes as the young man tries, desperately, to strike at Doser's midsection with his elbows. The blows are mitigated by the jacket he wore, leaving next to no injuries.

"Now.. all you need know about the case.. is that it's ancient 'ist'ry. Thanks to our li'l friend, 'ere, we're more likely to catch the White King outside 'is hole than to get a second crack at the White Queen.. or, at any 'o de White uppers, for tha' number.." His grip holds fast around Zale's neck as the man struggles, fear overtaking his rationality as his hands move up to try and take a hold of Doser's face; eyes, nose, mouth, anything he could hope to catch a hold of, but Doser wasn't having any of it. "Blud, de more you struggle, " He readjusts his position, his arm finding it's hold once more as he locks up one of Zale's arms up over his head. ",the more unpleasant this becomes.."

Zale's resistance only becomes greater, the man using every ounce of his strength to try and break Doser's grasp, in vain. As his vision begins to blur, little spots and blotches of black invading his eyesight as his brain is deprived of oxygen, Zale's throes grow less, his strength leaving him as he finally loses consciousness. Doser's hold immediately lessens, allowing a ragged breath to be drawn through the man's windpipe. Doser rises from his seat on the bench, taking up his m1991a1 as he does so, and holstering it within his jacket. "I'm off to set this bloke straight in The Cell.."

He pauses to turn back to Cirque, his eyes meeting hers, the cold, dull grey staring relentlessly through her, almost daring her to object. "Were I you, love.. I would get back to roundin' up that White what's been snatchin' up our Pawns. Or, at the very least, snatch up sum'a d'ere's, 'ey?" Looping both arms beneath the pits of Zale's armpits, Doser lifts the man from the bench, and proceeds to drag him, bodily, down the hallway, towards The Cell. When he wakes up.. he'll wish he'd never been born..

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Stephen Wynter...The plan begins...

Stephen studied the hallway with caution before moving out from his office door. It was one thing that he has learned very well in his up bring and that was never jump without looking where you may land. It was a way of life for him, always looking around corners instead of just rounding them, always keeping one eye looking over his shoulder for that shadow that was to claim his life for one day that shadow will make it’s move and he will be ready.

He stopped halfway down the hall before spotting one of his guards pouring himself some coffee from one of the several guard posts that was scattered about this floor level. Shaking his head as he has found the source of the noise that he heard moments ago. He took one more look about the hallway then gazed back to the guard before being satisfied with his conclusion. Slowly he turned back around and headed back to his office. He had a lot of work to do and this was not getting it done.

Resuming his seat behind his desk, he resumed his whisking through the paperwork that was before him. It was a report from one of his agents detailing the movements of Kyle Frobisher for the up coming summit. His eyes focused upon the file, but his mind drifted away slightly weighting the outcomes that would come about upon his actions against this individual. They have already attempted the assassination of this man in which was a total failure for not only warning this individual, but also showing the White Chess organization his movement. He tapped the folder a few times before standing up and moving over to wall size monitor. “Activate.” he commanded while watching the screen light up from its slumber. “Kyle Frobisher.” he continued to study the face and information that was displayed upon the screen.

“Maybe, just maybe I can use this to my advantage.” He whispered to himself knowing that the white chess would be sending a response team to cover their precious asset. But in doing that they would slow down his summits and in turn stop the growth of the W.C. O. headquarters popping up everywhere. “No, that wouldn’t slow him down enough. Something had to put the fear into him, hence the assassination of his brother, but upon his report this hasn’t stopped this damn crusader.” Anger filled his nostrils then it hit him like a moving bus, “ I don’t have to kill him nor do I have to kill anyone else for the WCO will have their agents all over him and his family, but Mr. Frobisher will not be my target, it will be the WCO agents that are suppose to protect him, for if I kill the queen and king and several high level agents then the funding for this faltering organization will come to an end.”

Picking up his phone he called his most trusted agent, “Cirque, I have a job for you. I want you and some of your lackeys to find and destroy the WCO agents that have been sent to protect Mr. Frobisher and his family. Once that is completed I want several bombings to occur in government buildings. I will bring down this WCO once and for all.” He laughed into the phone as the plan swirled about..

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Stephen Wynter...Black King

Stephen lowered the phone upon hearing a knock upon the door, his gaze drifted over to the wall screen, “Security camera one.” He muttered while still keeping Cirque on the phone, his gaze drifting over the screen as the image from the camera fill the screen with the figure of Dimitri. He wondered briefly if this was going to be news that he wanted to hear this morning. “London News.” changing the image once more on the wall screen.

Walking over to the door, he opened it and proceeded to walk behind his desk, closing the file that laid open upon his desk, he looked up to the figure that approached him. “Dimitri.” his tone greeted him like a icy wall. “I believe you have a few things to report to me.” He tossed in while still holding the phone, he wanted Cirque to hear what was going on so that he would not have to repeat this news to her later.

“Take a seat.” he gestured with his free hand.

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Stephan Wynter…Black King…..Black Castle

Stephen leaned forward in his chair, a calculating look affixed heavily upon it. His hands slightly gazing over his lips, ‘The Syndicate..’ he whispered to himself, he heard rumors that there was a global organization developing but didn’t know that they had their eyes nestled upon London. ‘This is not good’ he continued to mutter to himself.

He gazed up to the waiting face of Dimitri, his second statement was now an option for him to consider, he pondered over it for a few more minutes then smiled, “Yeah, there is a good idea, Dimitri.” the smile continued while he leaned backward in his chair. “I’ve have a lot on my plate at the moment Dimitri so I want you to handle this Syndicate ordeal for awhile, but I want constant updates given to Cirque. Now remember what comes your way if you mess this up and make me look stupid.” his eyes hardens as the statement was uttered without any consideration or concern that a threat was delivered. “Now deal with it while I have other matters to attend with.” He raise the phone back up given Dimitri a head shaking dismissal.