Setting
Default Location for laboratory 23
Minimap
northwest |
north |
northeast |
west |
You are here. |
east |
southwest |
south |
southeast |
America is a part of 
laboratory 23.
13 Places in America:
4 Characters Here
Dayereth Idris Persoangello [0] Swifter than the night's breeze, quieter than the moon moving through the dark sky, no treasure is safe from this phantom.
Micael "Chaos" Legato [0] A toubled youth living a chaotic life, with a touch garenteed to leave you breathless.
Kathrin Taith [0] ???Success is not the result of spontaneous combustion. You must first set yourself on fire.??? Fred Shero quotes
Isaac Masters [0] Blink and you might miss the precursor of your death.
Start Character Here »
Setting
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Red Light District
Abby heard a distant sound above her head. She thought she was dreaming so she ignored it. Then she felt the old, dirty mattress move from side to side. ‘Earthquake?’ she thought. She opened her eyes to see a very tall young man with silver hair and red-ish eyes. She didn’t know who he was or how he found her, although that was a stupid question this was a spot she normally went to; but she wasn’t going to stick around to find out. “Who the hell are you?” She eyed him up and down waiting to hear his answer. She slowly got into fighting position without being to suspicious of it and started to charge her powers in her right hand.
Abby heard a distant sound above her head. She thought she was dreaming so she ignored it. Then she felt the old, dirty mattress move from side to side. ‘Earthquake?’ she thought. She opened her eyes to see a very tall young man with silver hair and red-ish eyes. She didn’t know who he was or how he found her, although that was a stupid question this was a spot she normally went to; but she wasn’t going to stick around to find out. “Who the hell are you?” She eyed him up and down waiting to hear his answer. She slowly got into fighting position without being to suspicious of it and started to charge her powers in her right hand.
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The menu was mostly made up of drinks, but Triss knew her bar food.[1] Without really looking at the listings, she glanced back at the bartender and asked, "What kind of fries do you do around here? On a scale from McDonalds to Chips wrapped in day-old newspaper? For reference, Dick's[2] fries fall solidly at 6."
Purse placed on the floor by her feet, Triss hooked a leg around the stool and settled in. This bar seemed nice, but she wouldn't know for sure until she tried the fries. She hoped they were good. There hadn't been many options for good bar food within walking distance of her hotel. Lots of fancy restaurants, but a definite deficit of bars.. Which was probably why she'd found herself striking out in a random direction, in the rain, and discovered this place...
[1] Triss had lived off of bar food for her entire Junior year. She had just turned twenty one, and hadn't had a kitchen in the pathetic flat she'd chosen precisely for the reason that it was pathetic. Her parents thought she shared an apartment with her best friend, and in the meantime Triss pocketed the difference in rent and put it into a savings account under a different name. She put everything she'd earned at her job (which her parents also didn't know about) in the same place. Triss's parents didn't know about her little "quirk", and Triss liked having backup plans if they ever found out. Be Prepared, etc etc.
[2] http://www.dicksdrivein.com/ The only place for fast food in Seattle.
Purse placed on the floor by her feet, Triss hooked a leg around the stool and settled in. This bar seemed nice, but she wouldn't know for sure until she tried the fries. She hoped they were good. There hadn't been many options for good bar food within walking distance of her hotel. Lots of fancy restaurants, but a definite deficit of bars.. Which was probably why she'd found herself striking out in a random direction, in the rain, and discovered this place...
[1] Triss had lived off of bar food for her entire Junior year. She had just turned twenty one, and hadn't had a kitchen in the pathetic flat she'd chosen precisely for the reason that it was pathetic. Her parents thought she shared an apartment with her best friend, and in the meantime Triss pocketed the difference in rent and put it into a savings account under a different name. She put everything she'd earned at her job (which her parents also didn't know about) in the same place. Triss's parents didn't know about her little "quirk", and Triss liked having backup plans if they ever found out. Be Prepared, etc etc.
[2] http://www.dicksdrivein.com/ The only place for fast food in Seattle.
Setting
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Delighted, Triss did a silent (and most likely ridiculous looking) dance in her seat. Chips! It'd been far too long since she'd had decent chips...
The door had opened in the middle of her dance, and Triss used the momentum of the last little jiggle to spin around to see who had walked in. It was a bloke...
And good lord, he was dressed like her brother. Barely suppressing a snort, Triss waved him over. "So, are you gay, or do you just dress like it?"[1]
Inventory of Pockets and Purse (seeing a thief just got invited to sit next to her!)
Pockets:
Nothing. Nada. No point!
Purse:
A package of tissue.
A fake wallet containing: A fake ID for Triss Bingahm, $50 in tens, photos of someone else's family, a small amount of change, the business card of a local taxi company, a phone card
[1] If you read this and thought the implication was that Triss's brother is gay, you'd be correct. Ender was seventeen, newly graduated from highschool, and had been dating the younger brother of Triss's own highschool crush for the last two years. They were adorable together, and horribly well dressed. Triss joked that they looked like the heirs to the Family. They looked at her cargo pants and love of leather jackets, and agreed.
The door had opened in the middle of her dance, and Triss used the momentum of the last little jiggle to spin around to see who had walked in. It was a bloke...
And good lord, he was dressed like her brother. Barely suppressing a snort, Triss waved him over. "So, are you gay, or do you just dress like it?"[1]
Inventory of Pockets and Purse (seeing a thief just got invited to sit next to her!)
Pockets:
Nothing. Nada. No point!
Purse:
A package of tissue.
A fake wallet containing: A fake ID for Triss Bingahm, $50 in tens, photos of someone else's family, a small amount of change, the business card of a local taxi company, a phone card
[1] If you read this and thought the implication was that Triss's brother is gay, you'd be correct. Ender was seventeen, newly graduated from highschool, and had been dating the younger brother of Triss's own highschool crush for the last two years. They were adorable together, and horribly well dressed. Triss joked that they looked like the heirs to the Family. They looked at her cargo pants and love of leather jackets, and agreed.
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Kathrin
Ka smiled looking at the man sitting by the woman and nodded. "Sure thing guys and I'm glad you like the fries." She flipped up two glasses and began pouring a pale ale from her tap into one glass pushing it in front of the young girl. She took out some milk and steamed it quickly adding in chocolate sauce and drizzled rum on it looking at the drink she smiled as she continued building his hot chocolate she looked at him about his question on the show.
"Well my bar tender can be a bit of a show off when he's board good the glass flipping things you'll see when he gets down here it's really good fun." She smiled as she put some whip cream on top of the drink and placed it in front of him. "One hot chocolate." She said simply as she began cleaning up the counter where she made the drinks it was inevitable no matter how careful she was making the drinks they always spilled a little bit. So what brings you folks out here with the heavens pouring down on us?"
Ka smiled looking at the man sitting by the woman and nodded. "Sure thing guys and I'm glad you like the fries." She flipped up two glasses and began pouring a pale ale from her tap into one glass pushing it in front of the young girl. She took out some milk and steamed it quickly adding in chocolate sauce and drizzled rum on it looking at the drink she smiled as she continued building his hot chocolate she looked at him about his question on the show.
"Well my bar tender can be a bit of a show off when he's board good the glass flipping things you'll see when he gets down here it's really good fun." She smiled as she put some whip cream on top of the drink and placed it in front of him. "One hot chocolate." She said simply as she began cleaning up the counter where she made the drinks it was inevitable no matter how careful she was making the drinks they always spilled a little bit. So what brings you folks out here with the heavens pouring down on us?"
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Artea
"Mr. Van Burace, Mr. Sammael. Please report to Mr. Addison's office immediately. Once again, Mr. Van..." The young man tuned out the familiar annoying voice of the secretary coming from the PA. Artea turned almost on his heel, and started back down the hall towards the elevator he had just passed. He chuckled to himself, as he swiped his ID over the reader, knowing how pointless this exersize was for him. The panels on the private elevator door opened, then shut without activating, the card keyed to skip the usual scans. The door slid open and he entered the lift.
He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes and counting off the seconds to himself. As the elevator neared the top, he spread his hands and put them behind his head. The door slid open as he reached his destination, only to be met by the guards blocking his way, guns trained on him as usual. He sighs. "Here we go again...how many times till ya all get it. It's me." The two guards motion him out of the lift, and Artea steps forward, giving a mildly annoyed look to the secretary behind her desk.
The secretary cooly observed the process as Artea was checked for weapons, and then questioned. The same formula as every visit. Finally satisfied, she pressed the intercom. "Mr. Addison. Mr. Van Burace is here, identity is confirmed"
Artea shook his head. The price I pay to keep in these children's good graces. He dropped his hands back to his sides again finally, and sauntered through the final door as it opened. He glanced around the room, and gave a little shiver, not liking how...temporary everything was in here. He doesn't even bother nodding to the gothic lolita wannabe sitting on the couch, knowing he won't respond. Walking over to a 'marginally' comfortable chair next to the couch, the light haired man sat and promptly propped his feet up on the end table.
"Mr. Van Burace, Mr. Sammael. Please report to Mr. Addison's office immediately. Once again, Mr. Van..." The young man tuned out the familiar annoying voice of the secretary coming from the PA. Artea turned almost on his heel, and started back down the hall towards the elevator he had just passed. He chuckled to himself, as he swiped his ID over the reader, knowing how pointless this exersize was for him. The panels on the private elevator door opened, then shut without activating, the card keyed to skip the usual scans. The door slid open and he entered the lift.
He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes and counting off the seconds to himself. As the elevator neared the top, he spread his hands and put them behind his head. The door slid open as he reached his destination, only to be met by the guards blocking his way, guns trained on him as usual. He sighs. "Here we go again...how many times till ya all get it. It's me." The two guards motion him out of the lift, and Artea steps forward, giving a mildly annoyed look to the secretary behind her desk.
The secretary cooly observed the process as Artea was checked for weapons, and then questioned. The same formula as every visit. Finally satisfied, she pressed the intercom. "Mr. Addison. Mr. Van Burace is here, identity is confirmed"
Artea shook his head. The price I pay to keep in these children's good graces. He dropped his hands back to his sides again finally, and sauntered through the final door as it opened. He glanced around the room, and gave a little shiver, not liking how...temporary everything was in here. He doesn't even bother nodding to the gothic lolita wannabe sitting on the couch, knowing he won't respond. Walking over to a 'marginally' comfortable chair next to the couch, the light haired man sat and promptly propped his feet up on the end table.
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Rakka
”Thanks for making breakfast for me.”
Alright. Rakka was officially melted at this point. Returning the warmth of his smile, he pets his fingers lightly through that blond hair before going over and putting the plate before him, adding a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee alongside the plate. “Yer welcome, honey.” Chuckling as he realizes how worn out Dayereth likely is after the night before, he also fetches him silverware and condiments for the food/coffee. “Well, that was the dryer! Ah’ll be right back,” he states, reacting to a distant and likely inaudible ding from upstairs. Scampering off one he sees the other start tuckering into the food, he returns not long after in his day clothes, sitting down next to him at the table, content to watch him eat.
“So… Ah’m guessin’ yer not up t’walkin’ about. Tha’s fine. Y’gotta ride, right?” At the affirmative, he pets that blond hair again. Finally, they’re out the door by noon, on their way to the bar by noonish, sure to arrive not long after.
Chaos Night
Rakka
Taking his playmate by the hand, he leads him inside the closed looking bar, eyes adjusting quickly to the general indoor gloom.
“Heya bosslady! Ah’m ‘ere, jus’ as Ah said Ah would.” His voice, of course, is as cheerful and friendly as always, loud enough to call her out from her office, if that’s where she happens to be.
”Thanks for making breakfast for me.”
Alright. Rakka was officially melted at this point. Returning the warmth of his smile, he pets his fingers lightly through that blond hair before going over and putting the plate before him, adding a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee alongside the plate. “Yer welcome, honey.” Chuckling as he realizes how worn out Dayereth likely is after the night before, he also fetches him silverware and condiments for the food/coffee. “Well, that was the dryer! Ah’ll be right back,” he states, reacting to a distant and likely inaudible ding from upstairs. Scampering off one he sees the other start tuckering into the food, he returns not long after in his day clothes, sitting down next to him at the table, content to watch him eat.
“So… Ah’m guessin’ yer not up t’walkin’ about. Tha’s fine. Y’gotta ride, right?” At the affirmative, he pets that blond hair again. Finally, they’re out the door by noon, on their way to the bar by noonish, sure to arrive not long after.
Chaos Night
Rakka
Taking his playmate by the hand, he leads him inside the closed looking bar, eyes adjusting quickly to the general indoor gloom.
“Heya bosslady! Ah’m ‘ere, jus’ as Ah said Ah would.” His voice, of course, is as cheerful and friendly as always, loud enough to call her out from her office, if that’s where she happens to be.
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