Introduction
Throme - sparkling city, capitol of the world, it would almost seem, and perhaps considered the best one too. From the wide parks to the sprawling cityscape, this is the image of peace and prosperity, with the best art galleries, and quality showcasing of works from all over the known world.
The melting pot of cultures, society's best and brightest jewel. Throme, by all accurate representations, is a city set to lead the world into the next era. An era of prosperity for the nations, and perhaps equality, peace. Harmony.
But behind this mask of brilliant light and blindingly welcoming populace lies much, much darker secrets.
The tendrils behind the life of Throme, the darkness that lurks just out of sight. Itex. With its influence stretching wide and deep in the world, Itex, in their central point of focus in Throme, are at their strongest and hardest to shake.
Then wonder this now - why Throme? Why would such a perfect city, with nothing to offer but peace, retain the interest of an organization such as Itex?
The answer is as simple as it is strange: The Grace Stone, a mysterious creation that no one quite understands, the powers of which are barely even understood. With its shards scattered in and around the city and it's strange appearance, most would discard this oddity as another uninteresting article of the way the earth moves. But Itex know that deeper than that... the Grace Stone is the most powerful object in existence.
So what does this have to do with you?
Well, whether you are Lower Level Itex, the pawns of the great organisation, Masked, the opposition of Itex formed by the anonymous mask holder Arthur Torrings, or just a Neutral with your eyes on the stone, you are all fighting for control of and dominion over the shards of the Grace Stone.
But no, that is but the simplest aspect of this story. Behind the simple facade of war, there is much more. With the looming spark of knowledge and events on the horizon, just out of reach, and the shadow of the past that still paints its own thoughts upon the canvas of the present, the conflict has much more at stake than either side know.
What will happen? And what is the story behind the Grace Stone, and the obsession Itex have with it? And why do the Masked and their mysterious leader want to stop them and find it themselves? All and much, much more will be answered as the story rolls forwards.
Remember one thing. The actions taken by the users will effect the outcome of this story, as well as how it swings in certain pivotal moments.
PLEASE NOTE: THE PLACES TAB WILL BE USED. FOR THE SAKE OF PLOT AND KEEPING THINGS COHERENT, WE INSIST THAT YOU POST IN THE PROPER PLACES.
Throme. Shining star of peace. Diadem of harmony.
With previously mentioned sprawling cityscape, kept in excellent condition and checked on a constant basis, Throme is centreground of the arts and education. Though rarely do those self-same masters stay in the peaceful paradise except to train the next generation.
Most notable are such pristine locations as Cherry Grove Park, beatifully well kept and a prime attraction from around the world, which combined together with stars, such as actor Damon Ito, Emma Matia the singer, and Micah Faret, author extrodinaire, make Throme the city it is.
Unlike most large cities, it has little background noise of moneychangers grinding it out, banks fluctuating the economy and other financial control. Only Near Corporations even has a large presence here, and that is due to securing itself as the main provider of various necessities in Throme, along with a majority of the saleable items that could be found in Sagaro Mall. Though due to the single competition, there isn't major money to be gained in it, and the only reason Near Corporations persists with it is the reputation that it gets elsewhere.
Other places that make Throme a urban paradise include the always-lit Maybelle District, the riverfront, and the brilliant nightlife. Though not possessing as many heavy partying venues as other places in the world, it offers the most variety for small amounts of alcohol consumption and easy enjoyment to be had, as well as offering a wide range of modern and antique favourites in the video games, film and literature departments.
Grace Stone
The legend of the Grace Stone has spent centuries surfacing and disappearing in the written works of this day and age, literature, poetry, mythology. Laced behind it there are references to the stone as it passes across history, reforming and breaking. Twisting the world around it as it lures the great and powerful into yet another war that, at the base, is merely about this one power.
And yet, despite the massive amount of references one can find to it, there is not a single one that gives definition to its powers, other than the fact that it is immensely powerful. And it takes a dedicated hunter who knows what they are looking for to merely link the vague references in what is the Grace Stone's very own legacy.
The Grace Stone itself is a small round pebble, about 4 centimetres large. Rather unremarkable, there isn't really much way to tell it from any other pebble of the same size, except placing it in water. Upon contact with the liquid, it glows a rather fantastic rainbow of colours.
Masks
All masks possess the power to alter the personality of its owner, but each is unique - one might even say that every mask is its own person. When wearing a mask, the bearer's personality is overriden and no longer takes part in conscious thought or decisions. Take note that this does not mean that the original and the mask personality are two separate entities. They both access the same resources, store the same memories within the mind of the wearer... they simply view these resources differently.
All masks cannot be broken through normal means.
There are two stages in wearing a mask: reformation and transformation. In the first stage, should one merely wear a mask, they will retain their normal appearance, but their personality will indeed 'reform' itself. Their existing skills may be minorly enhanced, such as heightened speed, increased strength, or perhaps they gain a new talent such as cooking. However, these are all within human limitations, and no outrageous abilities are developed. However, when one utters a certain 'code phrase' as they don their mask, they will undergo a full 'transformation' - a new appearance, a new personality, and abilities that are as unrealistic as they are wondrous... It is unscientific.
It is unexplainable.
It is the magic of a Mask of the Soul... and perhaps just a little bit of grace.
-True Masks:
The original masks, the masks no one knows truly about. They appear as mysteriously as one would suppose from something that no one understands. Found in different stages of completion by people who are looking for a 'crutch', the True Masks are like foils for the users. Identities that are what they want or wish they were like.
They are a leg to stand on, a mask that, from the first time it is picked up by the finder, seems like it is a familiar friend. Something that they knew for their entire life. Like an old friend, they help and support the owner, while exhibiting everything they wish they had.
On the same token, as the user grows with themselves, they may find a point when they no longer need the foil. At this point, the mask is deemed 'complete'. An interesting phenomenon experienced by those who own a true mask is a growing sense of control over the newer personality. As both the mask and the owner develop, and as the owner's true nature begins to shine through, the mask becomes less of a 'crutch' and merely a tool. In otherwords, when the owner's true personality becomes stronger, the mask's persona can no longer override it. When a mask is completed, it is at its strongest... and its task is also complete. Once this happens, it is sometimes gifted to another whom the owner believes has need of the crutch.
If the mask is not gifted before the original owner dies, the mask will fade.
-False Masks:
These masks are by no means 'false' per se, but they have been created through different means. As a result, they can be given to anyone - civilian, Itex, or Masked. There are distinguishable differences between these and True Masks, although they do not develop with time - yes, these masks do not grow, and thus, their bearers will never truly command the personalities that lie within them. As for the destruction and creation of False Masks, do be warned: no one is sure what will happen.
Higher Ups: [NPCs]
-unknown
Lower Class:
Zensa Venorte - Tower - A quiet, introspective martial artist who dabbles in Jazz music. [RPed by spudjohnson]
Shannon Ba'rel - Chariot - A doleful man only attracted to Itex by the comfortable life that such ventures can bring, he wears the Chariot mask, in an attempt to learn bravery from the fiery persona within. [RPed by Alasund De'astio]
Kaden Jannsen - Moon - A man entranced by the world of his books, Itex provides inspiration and a glimpse into this world. [RPed by Witless]
Brandon Clavell - Strength - Consumed by self doubts, he looks to the masks for the ultimate in personal power. [RPed by Harlequin Smile]
Hideaki Takao Katsuro - Hermit - A young man whose interest is money and money alone; a ruthless persona carefully hidden behind kind words and a faked smile. [RPed by The Black Death]
Harumitsu Rakugaki - Hanged Man - A rather sarcastic and blunt young man who once led the infamous Plague Riders. [RPed by X64]
Star
Magician
(Communication with GMs is extremely important for these characters.)
Aki Evedane - Meddler - A young male who tries to find out what he can about Itex, singlehandedly, while having fun along the way. [RPed by Nivosity]
Calanthia Rozenmare - Torrings-Hater - One who hates Itex and Arthur Torrings, so therefore cannot associate with the Masked, but aids them unintentionally and indirectly. [RPed by Butterfly Princess]
Cecil Vogel - Vigilante - A man with a mask that chooses neither to associate himself with Itex or the Masked, but instead work towards his own agenda. [RPed by abiotrophy]
Senna Hallows - Empress - Mask Premade - A woman who was accidentally given one of Itex's most precious masks and is now on the run. [RPed by HereMeNow]
Detective - Detective who starts investigating the first death and gets caught up in everything
Cedric Valsche - King - Maskless in Beginning - Future Mask Premade - Leader of the Masked, and tasked by Torrings with working with Liesel to fight against Itex and prevent them from gathering all the shards of the Grace Stone. [RPed by X64]
Valentina Emerson - Queen - Aide and second in command to the King, she is there to support the King and bring order to the group. [RPed by abiotrophy]
James Lyon - Jack - Dependable one of the Masked, the Jack is just behind the queen in seniority. [RPed by Alasund De'astio]
Hannah Lister - Ace - The Ace is the most junior member of the Masked, while also the one with the potential to surpass the rest in the end. [RPed by Nivosity]
Amara Calen - Joker - The last revealed Masked, the Joker is the trump card of the battle, and hopefully the last seen coming [RPed by Witless]
Character Requirements: - Age within reason (16-29), healthy, no overly large fears of violence/blood, stable situation where they can disappear at night without undue concern. We also are not a fan of characters with mental issues, so don't go crazy with those. If you do, have a good reason otherwise we may use it as grounds to refuse the character. Keep all skills balanced: don't make your character the supreme winner of every single battle. On that topic, skills that have already been used and healing are highly unrecommended
Masked/Itex/Neutral Application:
- Code: Select all
[center][IMG]Picture here - preferably illustrated, but a very detailed written description will do as well.[/IMG]
[size=200][b]Full Name Here (any name is fine as long as it's pronounceable and not too jarring to the setting. As Throme is a melting pot of cultures, feel free to use foreign names within reason.)[/b][/size]
[size=150]'Quote' - use this to sum up the character's personality[/size][/center]
[hr][/hr]
[hr][/hr]
[b]Nicknames[/b]
[size=90]Can be removed if your character has none.[/size]
[b]Role[/b]
[size=90]The Masked King? Queen? Strength?[/size]
[b]If Itex, blurb?[/b]
[size=90]A short sentence or so that sums up your character. This'll go on the front page.[/size]
[b]Which Masks do they possess?[/b]
[size=90]Name of the mask here[/size]
[b]Age[/b]
[size=90]Mostly between 16-29 although other ages can be accepted within reason.[/size]
[b]Gender[/b]
[size=90]Male or Female[/size]
[b]Physical Description[/b]
[size=90]Description here about appearance.[/size]
[hr][/hr]
[b]Personality[/b]
[size=90]Be Creative! As many details as you can... don't be lazy. Try and make it at least a decent size - make your character seem real.[/size]
[b]Skill(s)/Abilities[/b]
[size=90]Abilities that your character possesses. Do use common sense.[/size]
[left][b]Likes[/b][/left] [right][b]{Dislikes}[/b][/right]
[size=90][left][color=#0D9D00][b]o[/b][/color]_____[/left] [right]_____[color=#FF0000][b]x[/b][/color][/right]
[left][color=#0D9D00][b]o[/b][/color]_____[/left] [right]_____[color=#FF0000][b]x[/b][/color][/right]
[left][color=#0D9D00][b]o[/b][/color]_____[/left] [right]_____[color=#FF0000][b]x[/b][/color][/right]
[left][color=#0D9D00][b]o[/b][/color]_____[/left] [right]_____[color=#FF0000][b]x[/b][/color][/right][/size]
(Change the amount depending on the character.)
[hr][/hr]
[b]History[/b]
[size=90]Be creative! What events in their past influenced them, how they got their masks, etc. Or if they didn't get a mask, why are they involved and what is their reasons for it?[/size]
[b]Attitudes[/b]
[size=90]What does your character think about the others?[/size]
[b]Other[/b]
[size=90]Anything else?[/size]
Mask Application:
Please include this as a separate character. Don't worry - if your character is accepted, so will your mask. Please include this for all masks that your character possesses. At this point, each only possesses one or none. However, once your character is accepted, there is no limit on how many times we will tell you to correct mistakes with the mask. Do note that for premade masks, much of this will be out of your hands. Same rules as before apply to modified profile layouts.
- Code: Select all
[center][IMG]Picture here of the mask itself - preferably Venetian.[/IMG]
[size=200][b]Name of the Mask (While True Masks get the fun of naming it, for False Masks just use the name of the role.[/b][/size]
[size=150]'Quote' - try to sum up the character here.[/size][/center]
[hr][/hr]
[hr][/hr]
[right][IMG]Image of transformed person.[/right]
[b]What Kind of Mask is it?:[/b]
[size=90]False or true? Unless noted above, decide yourself - do read the explanation though.[/size]
[b]If False, how many Grace Stone fragments does it contain?:[/b]
[size=90]This will be one for false masks, unless otherwise changed/stated.[/size]
[b]If True, in what state of completion is it in?:[/b]
[size=90]Completed, In-progress?[/size]
[b]How do you create/transform with the mask?[/b]
[size=90][b]To summon:[/b] Brief phrase/sentence here.
[b]To transform:[/b] Brief phrase/sentence here.[/size]
[b]Brief Description of Transformed State:[/b]
[size=90]Detailed description about appearance after the character transforms.[/size]
[hr][/hr]
[b]Personality:[/b]
[size=90]Be Creative! Make your character unique. ^^[/size]
[b]Skills/Abilities when wearing mask:[/b]
[size=90]What abilities does your character gain after he or she has put on the mask, but not transformed?[/size]
[b]Skills/Abilities of Transformed State:[/b]
[size=90]Abilities that your character possesses after transforming using the mask. Three minor ones, and one major. Think of these as spells.[/size]
[b]Weapons[/b]
[size=90]A battle's no fun without weapons, although we highly discourage the katana and the gun for various reasons. These can be summoned and put away at will, but only when the bearer has fully transformed.[/size]
- 47 posts here • Page 1 of 2 • 1, 2
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Setting
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The Beginning ; Day One
1. Throme
Excerpt from 101 Must-Visit Locations by the APA Travel Agency
Throme. The city of the future. There's no doubt that this is a tourist attraction that everyone must visit. Not only does it contain enough delights to entertain the whole family, but as the home of world-famous celebrities, including the famed fantasy writer Micah Faret, it is a must-see. While not the capitol of our nation, its mayor, Ms. Aline Cosette has become a major player on the world stage. Numerous observatories dot the newly-founded city, just ten years in age, as it lacks that ever-present layer of smog and pollution.
Important landmarks include the City Hall, popular shopping district Little Maybelle, classy Sagaro Mall, and of course, the Museum of Throme Art and History.
Due to its open-door policy, the City Hall is always full of spectators. Be sure to ask for one of the secretaries for a tour of the grand building, and you will not be disappointed. Not only might you catch a glimpse of the mayor herself dealing with the day-to-day issues that pop up to the city, but also visiting dignitaries. Do pay attention to the artwork on the walls - especially the one in the mayor's office. It is the late Tabytha Clarking's masterpiece, Oceans of Crystal, itself.
After dipping your feet in the luxurious but chic atmosphere of the City Hall, be sure to continue down 21st to check out Goatstone Bridge. It spans the blue Liron River. Do pay the toll collector - and don't be too scared of his face. This was the recent location of the recent reenaction of Romeo and Juliet's touching balcony scene. If you have an affinity towards water, boats can be taken on a short cruise around the area as the river is calm and soothing. Keep out an eye for the Golden Angelfish, native only to this area and quite rare indeed.
If shopping is your thing, Little Maybelle is one of the more crowded districts of the city. Once simply an avenue, it's since spread block after block into a whole district of its own. Here, the greatest fashions and styles line the street. Everything from the buildings to the vendors themselves is modern and chic. Should you have a hour to spare, Brio is not to be missed. Although not the cheapest café in the district, it offers anything you should desire and much more. It's the favorite haunt of model Noel Delari, so should you wish to go celebrity hunting, this is as good a place as any other.
Sagaro Mall provides a more classy alternative. As its goods are more expensive, the local citizens are prone to visiting it for other purposes. This multistoried building rises directly opposite the City Hall in a genius design that combines both tradition and innovation. The auditorium inside is the new venue for the upcoming musical, Dreams of a Lost Spring, costarring popstar Emma Matia and actor Damon Ito. It never lacks visitors, whether lured by the promise of ice skating, movies, the arcade, or its numerous rooftop family attractions.
Just down the block is the headquarters of the Throme News Station. The most reliable source for current events in Throme, it's since gained credibility throughout the world - with its ever-cheerful anchor Megan Mariot and the never-right weatherman, Kenneth Park. While the general public is not allowed to enter, note that many photo shoots take place here. If lucky, you may spot one of the more-interesting denizens of Throme arriving for a live interview.
Should learning interest you, the Museum of Throme Art and History (MTAH) is a must-see. The one major museum in Throme, it displays artwork, sculptures, and various historic replicas of the city's development. New exhibits open monthly, so there is always something interesting and new. All of its exhibitions revolve around Throme in general, so you can always learn something more about the beautiful city that you're visiting.
The Truest Perception; XX/XX/XXXX - #172
Denizens of the internet, you will be pleased to hear that after 3.8 months, the March Hare has returned from his indefinite hiatus. In other words, he has discovered something rather... intriguing. Thus, this website is now open once more. As always, all comments and discussions are to remain anonymous and do be careful - any personal information that can be traced has been and will continue to be used against you. You have been warned.
And with that, the March Hare is at your service once again.
XX/XX/XXXX - Report #17732 AS - Submitter : Allen *Name scrubbed*
Location:
Liron Pier, Warehouse 34
Description of the scene and crime:
The body, the third in a recent string of crimes, is mutilated in a similar manner to previous. Cuts not dissimilar from paper cuts litter the entire body, the victim probably bled to death slowly, while enough of the right muscles were cut to make moving agonising.
There is no evidence, on the body or in the wounds, that gives us a clue to who did it, and there are no actual footprint marks or other signs of anyone other than the victim having stood there any time recently.
The victim in question is an old sailor, Sr Blane Harker, who had entire charge of a block of the warehouses. This is in keeping with the recent murders of a store caretaker and a bank guard. All three of which guarded items of import. The actual items they guarded are untouched, oddly enough, and all three were murdered in uniquely horrible ways.
The murderer never leaves a sign of their passing.
Passing case to:
*Name scribbled out*
Good luck inspector.
Amara Calen;News From Throme Offices
Amara's offices were growing ever larger. She could barely believe this had all started a few years ago, and now the company was beginning to be respected. She had worked hard, brought dedicated people on board, and it was all paying off. The staff now consisted of around twenty-five people, and they were all working hard on their task, most of the time anyway. Writers, investigators, those who took the pictures used as evidence. News From Throme was a small company, but it was important, not just for the city of Throme to reveal just what was going on, deep below the surface, all the conspiracies that grew and maybe died out, but also for the Masked in their fight against Itex.
There was no question about it; Itex was guilty. They had killed her mother, and Amara was determined to get revenge. Knowledge was power and the first step in taking down such a huge corporation. They reached everywhere in the city, and all of the connections had to be revealed and unraveled, piece by piece until the whole structure crumbled to dust. It was risky as well; they had their own resources and could take care of things once they found out. If they found out. All Amara could do was stay behind the scenes long enough to gain the information needed to stop that fate. She had a lot of work ahead of her, but she wasn't alone. She had her Masked companions, and they would be meeting again tonight, to discuss something of importance.
Amara glanced out the window. It was still raining, and it likely wouldn't stop for a while yet. Sighing, she turned to pick up her jacket and addressed those still in the office. "I'm going out to get farther on another lead I've recently discovered. Hopefully this turns out more fruitful, and I can get another story to add to tomorrow's issue. In the meantime, finish with your editing and get these articles done before you head home. I'll finish up tonight and add the finishing touches. Rain or shine, we still have to get this paper out to the world if we're going to be some competition. Oh, Lara, did you get the pictures I asked you to? We'll need them by tomorrow, so get them if you haven't yet. And Kevin, your story still needs editing, unless Ivory took care of that. You all have things to do? Good. I'll see you all bright and early tomorrow."
Taking her umbrella from the stand near the door, she headed out into the wind and rain, off to Dullahan Library. Once she was a great enough distance from her offices, where no one could be seen, she muttered under her breath, "When you're not used to it," pausing to finger the mask and smile, "being happy is a lot of work." Her poise grew less stiff, more relaxed, and a grin spread across her face, new clothes replacing the ones she had been wearing, a bright white parasol replacing the umbrella she had previously been carrying. Karim had arrived. Now things could get interesting...
Karim, Masked Joker; Throme -> Dullahan Library
Skipping along, Karim twirled her pretty parasol and recited in singsong, "Rain, rain, go away! Come again some other day! Cats and dogs raining down, pets abound for those around!" Grinning, she pulled a rose from her hat and held it in the rain, watching it unfurl. "Rain for the roses, roses are red. Red for the blood, blood from the dead. Dead are them, or soon they will be. Them and these, them versus we... Ahahaha! Roses are red, the sky is blue. Rain falling down, nothing to do." The parasol went away, rain not mattering, she pulled out a deck of cards, letting her feet continue carrying her where they would.
"King the King, high above all. Tell me something, will pride be your fall?
Queen of mine, beauty your power, influence spreads, hour by hour.
Jack, the Knave, subordinate first. Think for yourself, before you grow worse.
Ten of ten, a card of perfection. Second digit, that no other could mention.
Oh, it's nine? Square of three? Magic by magic, so it shall be.
Eight not a square, three sets of two, infinity sideways, forever is you?
Seven now, the number of luck. But as it ate nine, maybe you'll duck?
Six, six, six, a number of sin. What will it be, the devil come in?
Five by five, all is good. Half of the numbers, all as it should.
Four we're at, the number of death? To draw and survive, that is the test.
On to three, power of magic. It comes with a price, sometimes so tragic.
Two it is, choices and doors. Which will you pick, for less or for more?
Ace, not one, high and low, what it can do, only it knows."
Queen of mine, beauty your power, influence spreads, hour by hour.
Jack, the Knave, subordinate first. Think for yourself, before you grow worse.
Ten of ten, a card of perfection. Second digit, that no other could mention.
Oh, it's nine? Square of three? Magic by magic, so it shall be.
Eight not a square, three sets of two, infinity sideways, forever is you?
Seven now, the number of luck. But as it ate nine, maybe you'll duck?
Six, six, six, a number of sin. What will it be, the devil come in?
Five by five, all is good. Half of the numbers, all as it should.
Four we're at, the number of death? To draw and survive, that is the test.
On to three, power of magic. It comes with a price, sometimes so tragic.
Two it is, choices and doors. Which will you pick, for less or for more?
Ace, not one, high and low, what it can do, only it knows."
By now, she was near Dullahan Library, and the voice nagging from behind reminded her to head inside, down to the underground parking lot. Heading in, she pulled a card from the deck. "What will it be? Joker? Ahahaha! What a joke-reporting for duty!"
The setting changes from Throme to Academy Square
Shannon Ba'rel ; English Theory Lecture Room - Student Dorms, third floor, second room
As the other students filed out of the lecture, the teacher shook her head at the slumped figure in the back. The nametag, Shannon Ba'rel typed across it in easily readable letters, was lying on the floor next to the desk. She'd seen the boy fiddling with it early on in the class, having taken it off his lapel. She would never understand this boy who could sleep during class and yet match all necessary grades with ease.
'Master Ba'rel, I'm afraid you can't sleep there anymore.' The prim and proper reminder came with just a hint of amusement. She'd done this so many times the two almost had a schedule at the end of each lecture. 'My, Mrs Weatherby, what a loud voice you have.' The still half-asleep voice almost slithered from between the arms, coming from the head whose lips had hardly moved, and whose eyes still stayed firmly shut.
'All the better to wake you up.' With a wry smile, she picked up the last booklet lying around, the one on Shannon's desk, and tapped him on the head with it. 'You can't sit in here, mister.' Languidly, Shannon shifted in a slow manner that was reminiscent of a snake sleepily uncoiling. With a yawned 'On it.' he stretched back, and then stood up. His bag was quickly slipped up and onto his shoulders as he almost staggered out.
Whirling his mind back into gear as he waved goodbye to probably his favourite teacher, he half boredly checked the time on his mobile phone, and immediately came to life. The meeting was just about now, was it? Shannon, too distracted by his phone and his dreams, didn't even notice the rain outside the lecture building until he'd stepped right into it. As he paused to look up once, he smirked at the sky. 'Well, hello there Mr Weather. Thanks for the wake-up, I needed it.' Having paid his respects to the rain, he walked, unworried by getting wet, towards his dorm-room.
It was a very short while later that, to the sounds of his dorm-mates telling him to change his clothes and try using an umbrella next time, he shut the door to his room and dropped his bag onto his bed. A weary sigh escaped his lips as he flicked the computer's powerswitch on, causing the surprisingly high-tech piece to flicker with bluey light. The reflected light danced over the young student's face as he flicked the screen on, sighing and sitting down in the seat.
The comfortable upholstery made him uncomfortable, but lazily he ignored the slight irritation, instead hovering his hand over his mouse as, with a few clicks, he brought up the program he'd received by email shortly after joining Itex. It was a specialised chat program which allowed bypass into one special chatroom, one he'd be using today. Typing in the first password, Shannon Methusela Ba'rel leaned back, staring at the second password a moment blankly.
'Come, dance with me.' The words were akin to loving caresses, each one more valuable than a teardrop. Each a diamond of its own. The mask in his hand, that had materialised, was held with an almost reverence as the sleepy man seemed to wake up. Slowly fitting it to his face, he drew in breath, once, and exhaled. And then, he spoke again. 'And leave the midnight skies ablaze.'
As the words left his lips, it was almost as if the mask sunk into a pool of water, his face accepting the adornment into its very body, as the hair flickered around it, lightening to a pale blond. The other parts changed in a slow and languid fashion akin to the former holder of the body. The Chariot looked at his own hand in something similar to contempt. Reaching forwards with one finger, and pecking out keys one by one, he activated the second password, and the chatroom came into view.
Fitting headset to head, the blond haired warrior flicked it on. 'Chariot, reporting for duty.' The crisp voice lit up into the silence. The nametag had been forgotten.
The setting changes from Academy Square to Throme
Aki Evedane | Home -> Dullahan Library Main Entrance | November 21
Cold. Miserable. Rain.
With a sigh, Aki Evedane, blue-eyed junior and cherry gobbler, laid his fine point pen to the side and leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. He’d just managed to finish all of his homework, and a Chemistry worksheet rested on the mahogany table in front of him, covered in his immaculate handwriting. Getting ready to do some extra practice, he picked up the pen again, flipped it around his fingers, and read the question carefully. Before he could even finish the first calculation -
“Aki!” shouted his father from down the hall.
The boy pushed back his seat, before covering the meters to the door in a few long strides. “What is it?” he asked, poking his head out from behind the door.
What caught his eyes was something very normal - for his family that is. A tall, well-built Caucasian man ruffled an embarrassed hand through his sandy brown hair. “I can’t find my jacket - and I’ve got a class to teach in a few minutes. Do you mind going back down to the library and looking for it?” Seeing Aki’s impassive expression, he gave a nervous laugh. “Come on, you know how my brain is. Scattered everywhere. But please?”
His father had the best puppy-dog eyes in the entire world. There was no denying him anything.
“Fine, I’ll stop by the library. Next time remember that you should check that you have everything before leaving a room.” Aki’s face didn’t change at all, but he really wanted to hit his head against a wall. “Now get back to getting ready. Your 6 o’clock students are going to be here any moment now - and look at you! You’re still half-dressed!” It was times like this that Aki thought that he was the father, and his dad … er… something young and immature.
“Thanks! I love you, Aki!” thanked his father, before returning to something more important. And with that he retreated back into his room, before rummaging through the piles of sweatpants on the ground, making it look even more like a pigsty. “Don’t forget an umbrella! I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold!”
Yeah, sure.
Aki swung past the shoe cabinet, chose a dark-colored umbrella, and finally strode out of their cheery home. Fingering through the important objects in his pocket, he prepared himself to walk a kilometer or two -- again. It was remarkable that he had even finished his homework because his father managed to lose six objects throughout Throme in the time of one single twenty-four hour day.
What’d that be? One object every four hours. Yesterday, he forgot both hat and that spare pair of tennis shoes at the gym. And then, just a few minutes later, he left his umbrella at Brio. After going out to dinner with his friends, he spent twenty minutes looking for his car keys that had been in his pocket for the entire time. The next morning, he grabbed Aki’s bag, went on a sightseeing trip, and left the planner in the middle of Cherry Grove Park where it got promptly scribbled on by a toddler. And now this.
Aki’s long fingers found his MP3 player and with deft, calculated movements, lost himself inside his music. Since he was undergoing a long period of time when he was relatively uninjured, things such as viola practice had somehow become a must. His mother, worried that her son wouldn’t be skilled enough to perform with the school group during their concert, had forced upon him a private tutor and insisted that he listen to their boring, classical pieces as often as humanely possible. Cue gift of new MP3 player.
By the time that the second song had finally ended, he could see the brown dome of Dullahan Library just up ahead. And remembered that it would’ve closed an hour ago.
Great.
Hoping that some of the librarians would have stuck around to deal with a few other duties, he climbed up the stairs to try to peer inside the blackened building. And then realized that there were actually no windows - just mirrors. So all that he could see was a slightly discolored image of himself frowning at nothing in particular. Knocking on the door with a smooth movement, he waited as patiently as he could.
The setting changes from Throme to Little Maybelle
Calanthia Rozenmare
"If we meet once and that is called coincidence... Does that mean meeting you again is fate?"
~~~~~~++~~~~~~
Little Maybelle - The Flower Shop, "Eden" - 6:26 PM - November 21 - Raining - Closing Hours
"If we meet once and that is called coincidence... Does that mean meeting you again is fate?"
~~~~~~++~~~~~~
Little Maybelle - The Flower Shop, "Eden" - 6:26 PM - November 21 - Raining - Closing Hours
"I hate this weather the most..."
It was spoken much like a whisper cradled by the passing wind as it was drowned by the sound of the falling rain. Ash mauve eyes steadily gazed out of the showcase window where various flowers were displayed in such art and care. Tracks of rainwater splattered messily across the glass pane while some trickled down much like tears. Perhaps, it was one of the reasons why people say that when it rains the gods were crying. The passing thought made those ash mauve eyes waver ever so slightly. "Gods who can take and possess all... Why would they cry? They never lost anything to begin with and they never will..." These ideas floating within the mind were interrupted by a familiar voice and honest-to-goodness question.
"Miss Thia, we are going ahead now. Would you like to go together?"
Upon hearing the name, those ash mauve eyes glanced to the one who called. It was one of the workers at the shop. Somehow, Thia as she was called gave a small yet meaningful smile. She was grateful for being taken out from her self-induced trance. The said female worker which was actually a part-timer and a college student blushed at the sight of such an expression. There was no denying that the dark-skinned maiden was a beauty to be admired. Adding to that, she was a well-respected businesswoman, botanist, florist, and the owner of the flourishing Eden, Calanthia Rozenmare. "Thanks but go on ahead... I still have to finish some paper works before I leave. See you all tomorrow." With those dismissive words, the said worker snapped from her admiration and quickly bowed both in embarrassment. "Alright! Have a good night, Miss Thia!" The sound of chimes could be heard briefly along with the doors being closed. Looking outside the shop's window once more, she saw her workers making haste to avoid staying too long underneath the rain. Soon enough, she was once more completely alone which had been the case ever since that day had happened. Shaking her head before any thoughts would plague her mind, she made her way towards her office which was at the back portion of the shop.
Once inside the office, Thia took her seat and looked at the small stack of papers on her desk. It was not that much and not that important. Truthfully, she could have taken them home or left it until tomorrow. However, she was not a big fan of the weather. She actually dislikes the rain to a certain degree. As a result, she has decided to wait in here till the rain stops. Hopefully, it would not be that long. Glancing at the big clock hanging at the wall behind her, it was just a few minutes after 6. How she wanted to be on her way home now and take a relaxing bubble bath. However, the rain had yet to show signs of stopping and with that in mind, she released a sigh. "Stupid rain..." She muttered as she laid her head on the cool surface of her wooden desk. It would have been nice if she had brought the car with her. Unfortunately, her vehicle was at the repair shop. As such, she had to commute and it was out of question due to the rain. Releasing another sigh, her eyes were slowly directed to one of the picture frames adorning her table. It was a quaint photo of her family when they were all still together. She was only 6 when this photo was taken. They all looked so happy and unaware of the tragedies that they were about to face. "I miss you mom... dad... brother..." Taking a deep breath, her gaze drifted to another photo beside it. This time it was a picture of three people, her brother, Caius, her and Arthur. Removing her head from the table, she straightened her posture. "There is no going back... none at all..." She then took the said picture frame and put it face downward.
"You've got an e-mail." Thia looked at the source of the voice and saw her laptop's screen showing a pop-up message. Turning her attention to it, she wondered if it was a client requesting a specific flower arrangement for an event or personal use. After all, she had been getting those kind of messages nowadays. There was also the time that she had been the hired florist for a social gathering where various celebrities were present such as the renowned, Damon Ito, the popular model, Noel Delari, the popular R&B singer, Emma Matia, Serenade, and more. In any case, she clicked the pop-up message as it opened a link to the sent message. The subject title was: "A question." while the e-mail address was blocked. "How odd..." She mumbled to herself as she began reading the entire message. Her reaction to the e-mail was quite obvious as she slammed the laptop screen closed as she stood from her seat. There was no care in that action as her ash mauve eyes seemed to flare iridescently. It was clear that the message was not received well by Thia at all. "For the last time, leave me out of this!" She raised her voice considerably and luckily she was alone at that moment. It would have caused a commotion if it was during store hours. "I'll give someone a thorough beating soon enough..." She muttered darkly as she took her seat once more with the sound of the falling rain as her background music.
Once inside the office, Thia took her seat and looked at the small stack of papers on her desk. It was not that much and not that important. Truthfully, she could have taken them home or left it until tomorrow. However, she was not a big fan of the weather. She actually dislikes the rain to a certain degree. As a result, she has decided to wait in here till the rain stops. Hopefully, it would not be that long. Glancing at the big clock hanging at the wall behind her, it was just a few minutes after 6. How she wanted to be on her way home now and take a relaxing bubble bath. However, the rain had yet to show signs of stopping and with that in mind, she released a sigh. "Stupid rain..." She muttered as she laid her head on the cool surface of her wooden desk. It would have been nice if she had brought the car with her. Unfortunately, her vehicle was at the repair shop. As such, she had to commute and it was out of question due to the rain. Releasing another sigh, her eyes were slowly directed to one of the picture frames adorning her table. It was a quaint photo of her family when they were all still together. She was only 6 when this photo was taken. They all looked so happy and unaware of the tragedies that they were about to face. "I miss you mom... dad... brother..." Taking a deep breath, her gaze drifted to another photo beside it. This time it was a picture of three people, her brother, Caius, her and Arthur. Removing her head from the table, she straightened her posture. "There is no going back... none at all..." She then took the said picture frame and put it face downward.
"You've got an e-mail." Thia looked at the source of the voice and saw her laptop's screen showing a pop-up message. Turning her attention to it, she wondered if it was a client requesting a specific flower arrangement for an event or personal use. After all, she had been getting those kind of messages nowadays. There was also the time that she had been the hired florist for a social gathering where various celebrities were present such as the renowned, Damon Ito, the popular model, Noel Delari, the popular R&B singer, Emma Matia, Serenade, and more. In any case, she clicked the pop-up message as it opened a link to the sent message. The subject title was: "A question." while the e-mail address was blocked. "How odd..." She mumbled to herself as she began reading the entire message. Her reaction to the e-mail was quite obvious as she slammed the laptop screen closed as she stood from her seat. There was no care in that action as her ash mauve eyes seemed to flare iridescently. It was clear that the message was not received well by Thia at all. "For the last time, leave me out of this!" She raised her voice considerably and luckily she was alone at that moment. It would have caused a commotion if it was during store hours. "I'll give someone a thorough beating soon enough..." She muttered darkly as she took her seat once more with the sound of the falling rain as her background music.
The setting changes from Little Maybelle to Liron River Pier
Hideaki Takao Katsuro
♬
Liron River Pier's bank - 6:30 PM - November 21st - Raining
♬
Liron River Pier's bank - 6:30 PM - November 21st - Raining
It was raining. Each heavy raindrop fell down from the sky to his outstretched hand and broke into hundreds tiny water droplets. Briefly, the young man wondered if it was possible for a person to collect all these beautiful raindrops and keep them for himself because he wanted them. Chuckling at his silly thoughts, he took a deep breath. Watching silently from the river bank as another raindrop fell on his index finger and rolled down his palm, the young man raised his right hand and looked at the water droplet, his eyes shone with mild interest. He kissed his index finger gently, the raindrop broke and the water made his lips wet. The young man’s lips curled into a mysterious smile. The raindrop tasted just like tears… but without the pain. Sighing, he let his hand drop to his side and the other hand tightened his grip around the dark purple umbrella.
Pushing his headphone up slightly, the young man ran his hand through the messy purple hair, his violet eyes closed for 10 whole seconds, just enjoying the music in general. Humming the lyrics of his favorite song, he brushed a lock of hair off his eyes. “ Take me down to the river bend… Take me down where the fighting ends… Wash the poison from off my skin… Show me how to be whole again” He opened his eyes and looked around. Several people were staring at him but the young man paid them no mind. A giggle caught his attention and he turned back to see a group of girls looking at him, giggling girlishly. The young man gave them a slight wave and a bow, inwardly rolling his eyes when they fell into another fit of helpless giggles. Girls… Sighing deeply, the young man decided to go home. It was getting late anyway.
He took out his cellphone and stared at the date. Oh, today was November 21st. So, it had been a while since he last called his parents then. He wondered if he should give them a phone call tonight, just enough to ease their worry but not enough to give anything away. His adopted parents would have a heart-attack if they knew their precious son had practically become a mercenary and a gang member. Just imagine, ‘Hideaki Katsuro – Adopted son and the only heir of the Katsuro Company was a gang member’. Oh, that would be a shocking news. The young man – now could be identified as Hideaki Katsuro, chuckled at his own imagination. Pursing his lips, Hideaki considered if he should just call his parents or wait for them to call him. If his guess was correct (more often than not), his parents would just call him tomorrow if he didn’t call them tonight. ‘The joy of having protective parents…’ Hideaki thought with another heavy sigh.
“…'Cause I'm only a crack… In this castle of glass… Hardly anything left for you to see… For you to see” Hideaki sang loudly again, earning even more looks from the other people. Smirking, the young man thought ‘Maybe I can become a singer… that will certainly earn me more money than working for this Itex organization…’ Taking another deep breath, Hideaki kicked a small stone on the river bank, finally decided to move his feet. He opened his mouth to continue his song “Bring me home in a blinding dream… Through the secrets that i have seen… Wash the sorrow from off my skin… And show me how to be whole-” He was rudely interrupted as the alarm mode of his cellphone began to beep annoyingly. “What now?” Hideaki asked, mostly to himself, his eyebrows furrowed disapprovingly when he read the message he had saved days ago. “Oh, come on… It’s today? Again?” Sighing, Hideaki rubbed his eyes tiredly and put the cellphone back to his pocket, the message ‘Itex Meeting’ still shone brightly as the young mercenary speeded up to go back to his own cozy home.
Pushing his headphone up slightly, the young man ran his hand through the messy purple hair, his violet eyes closed for 10 whole seconds, just enjoying the music in general. Humming the lyrics of his favorite song, he brushed a lock of hair off his eyes. “ Take me down to the river bend… Take me down where the fighting ends… Wash the poison from off my skin… Show me how to be whole again” He opened his eyes and looked around. Several people were staring at him but the young man paid them no mind. A giggle caught his attention and he turned back to see a group of girls looking at him, giggling girlishly. The young man gave them a slight wave and a bow, inwardly rolling his eyes when they fell into another fit of helpless giggles. Girls… Sighing deeply, the young man decided to go home. It was getting late anyway.
He took out his cellphone and stared at the date. Oh, today was November 21st. So, it had been a while since he last called his parents then. He wondered if he should give them a phone call tonight, just enough to ease their worry but not enough to give anything away. His adopted parents would have a heart-attack if they knew their precious son had practically become a mercenary and a gang member. Just imagine, ‘Hideaki Katsuro – Adopted son and the only heir of the Katsuro Company was a gang member’. Oh, that would be a shocking news. The young man – now could be identified as Hideaki Katsuro, chuckled at his own imagination. Pursing his lips, Hideaki considered if he should just call his parents or wait for them to call him. If his guess was correct (more often than not), his parents would just call him tomorrow if he didn’t call them tonight. ‘The joy of having protective parents…’ Hideaki thought with another heavy sigh.
“…'Cause I'm only a crack… In this castle of glass… Hardly anything left for you to see… For you to see” Hideaki sang loudly again, earning even more looks from the other people. Smirking, the young man thought ‘Maybe I can become a singer… that will certainly earn me more money than working for this Itex organization…’ Taking another deep breath, Hideaki kicked a small stone on the river bank, finally decided to move his feet. He opened his mouth to continue his song “Bring me home in a blinding dream… Through the secrets that i have seen… Wash the sorrow from off my skin… And show me how to be whole-” He was rudely interrupted as the alarm mode of his cellphone began to beep annoyingly. “What now?” Hideaki asked, mostly to himself, his eyebrows furrowed disapprovingly when he read the message he had saved days ago. “Oh, come on… It’s today? Again?” Sighing, Hideaki rubbed his eyes tiredly and put the cellphone back to his pocket, the message ‘Itex Meeting’ still shone brightly as the young mercenary speeded up to go back to his own cozy home.
Hideaki's house - 6:45 PM - November 21st - Raining
Hideaki’s house was surprisingly neat and cleaned for a young man living by himself. The house wasn’t big though its structure was nice. The outside walls were painted white. There were several wooden windows and a big wooden door. Fumbling with his keys, Hideaki bit back a curse when he realized he had forgotten to cook dinner. Pizza, then… He really hated that thing. Opened the door to his house after exactly 30 seconds messing around with his keys, Hideaki walked into the house and turned on the lights. Smiling grimly when he spotted a messy stack of homework and unfinished projects on his table, Hideaki decided he would do it tonight, after he had finished the meeting and the phone call to his parents. He only hoped he would be fresh enough to do the tasks.
Pushing the books aside, Hideaki opened his (also) violet laptop and turned it on. Waiting impatiently for the damned thing to work, Hideaki vowed he would buy another laptop as soon as he collected enough money. Oh, speaking of money, he really should ask how much he would be paid for this mission. The world was having an economic depression after all and he needed to have as much money as possible. Opening the chat system, Hideaki muttered in irritation. He hated Hermit with a passion and he was pretty sure the feeling was mutual. However, was it possible for someone to hate themselves? Because it was certainly possible for him. “When the devil grows old…” The mask appeared in front of him, its Grace Stone fragment reflected a soft turquoise color under the dimmed light of his room. Taking a deep breath, Hideaki closed his eyes and put the mask on, feeling the cool texture fit his face perfectly.
A ghost of a smile appeared on Hideaki’s lips as he read the second phrase gently “…he turns Hermit” His purple hair slowly darkened and became longer until it was pitch black and reached the middle of his back. Tying the soft black hair with a white cloth he had already put on the table, Hermit opened his onyx eyes, sighing contently when he felt the thirst for more and more subdued until it was only a slight throbbing pain in his heart that reminded him who his real person was. His long and pale fingers typed the second password gracefully and his smile widened ever so slightly when he saw who was already there.
“ Chariot, reporting for duty”
Hermit’s lips curled into a pleasant smile as he heard Chariot’s voice. He was defeated again, it seemed. Chariot was always earlier than him. Hermit spoke gently, his voice was kind and gentle, betrayed nothing of his own anger at being defeated by Chariot. His stomach twisted almost painfully while his face still had that pleasant smile. “Hermit, reporting for duty.” Finished the formal part, Hermit’s lips curled into a pleasant smile as he asked Chariot casually “Hey, Chariot, how are you today?” Inside, however, Hermit thought sinisterly, an evil glint in his eyes could send shivers down someone’s spine if they stared at those black orbs for too long. Hermit was worthy of his title, pleasant on the outside but ruthless and evil in the inside ‘Kekeke, how I wish I could chop off his head, take out his gut, paint the walls red… oh yesssss, his meat must be really tasty… I wonder if I can rip off his heart with my bare hand… But… it won’t be good… I’m a hermit after all…Kekeke’
Pushing the books aside, Hideaki opened his (also) violet laptop and turned it on. Waiting impatiently for the damned thing to work, Hideaki vowed he would buy another laptop as soon as he collected enough money. Oh, speaking of money, he really should ask how much he would be paid for this mission. The world was having an economic depression after all and he needed to have as much money as possible. Opening the chat system, Hideaki muttered in irritation. He hated Hermit with a passion and he was pretty sure the feeling was mutual. However, was it possible for someone to hate themselves? Because it was certainly possible for him. “When the devil grows old…” The mask appeared in front of him, its Grace Stone fragment reflected a soft turquoise color under the dimmed light of his room. Taking a deep breath, Hideaki closed his eyes and put the mask on, feeling the cool texture fit his face perfectly.
A ghost of a smile appeared on Hideaki’s lips as he read the second phrase gently “…he turns Hermit” His purple hair slowly darkened and became longer until it was pitch black and reached the middle of his back. Tying the soft black hair with a white cloth he had already put on the table, Hermit opened his onyx eyes, sighing contently when he felt the thirst for more and more subdued until it was only a slight throbbing pain in his heart that reminded him who his real person was. His long and pale fingers typed the second password gracefully and his smile widened ever so slightly when he saw who was already there.
“ Chariot, reporting for duty”
Hermit’s lips curled into a pleasant smile as he heard Chariot’s voice. He was defeated again, it seemed. Chariot was always earlier than him. Hermit spoke gently, his voice was kind and gentle, betrayed nothing of his own anger at being defeated by Chariot. His stomach twisted almost painfully while his face still had that pleasant smile. “Hermit, reporting for duty.” Finished the formal part, Hermit’s lips curled into a pleasant smile as he asked Chariot casually “Hey, Chariot, how are you today?” Inside, however, Hermit thought sinisterly, an evil glint in his eyes could send shivers down someone’s spine if they stared at those black orbs for too long. Hermit was worthy of his title, pleasant on the outside but ruthless and evil in the inside ‘Kekeke, how I wish I could chop off his head, take out his gut, paint the walls red… oh yesssss, his meat must be really tasty… I wonder if I can rip off his heart with my bare hand… But… it won’t be good… I’m a hermit after all…Kekeke’
The setting changes from Liron River Pier to Backstreets of Throme
Harumitsu Rakugaki/Hanged Man's Trump
"Yer not goin' ta 'cause me much trouble, are ya? I really don' feel like kickin' yer sorry ass. I've got shit to do, 'n yer kinda in my way." Haru leaned against the wall of a backstreet alleyway, feigning a yawn. "So why don't we jus' drop this whole shenanigans?"
"Why you little...! You think you're cute, don'tcha?" A group of guys surrounded him menacingly, one of them right in Haru's face. "You're just the fallen leader of a piece-of-shit club. We're members of the Silver Fangs! You'll regret comin' over to our turf..."
At this, Haru stopped his fake yawn, suddenly glaring intensely at the man who had spoken. Then, he got off the wall to get closer to the man's face. "You guys? Yer all part 'o the Silver Fangs or whatever?" He pointed past the guy, waving his finger around to indicate all of them. Then, he began to laugh. He laughed and laughed, until suddenly the man went to punch him in his gut. Without missing a beat, Haru knocked the man's arm away and delivered a punch of his own. He punched him so hard he went down like a sack of rocks.
"I'll get back ta that in jus' a sec. Now, what were ya sayin' 'bout my little club?" As he spoke, he rushed the other supposed gang members. One by one, he took them out, making quick work of them. "A piece 'o shit, ya say? No good, ya say? That ain't nice, you know...." He hissed as he beat them up mercilessly, breaking bones here and there. Soon enough, they were all sprawled on the ground, incapacitated. "Silver Fangs." He scoffed, "Don't make me laugh. If you guys were really part 'o that group, ya woulda known better than ta corner a former gang leader. Wannabe fuckfaces." He scoffed once more as he stepped over their bodies, making his way out of the alleyway.
As he entered the street, he looked at his watch, then looked up at the sky. Blast it. Now I don't have time to go to the bar on my way home, much less change out of these ridiculously wet clothes. He began to walk down the street, until something caught his eye.
It was a motorcycle, complete with a helmet, leaning next to the entrance of the alleyway. Curiosity instantly piked, Haru walked over to it. Well, well, well. Lookie what I found. Finder's keepers, losers weepers! He walked back into the alleyway, then exited once again, smirking wickedly as his jingled a set of keys in one hand. Then, he turned back to the motorcycle and got on it, putting the key into the ignition and turning it on as he did so. Finally, he took the helmet and put it on, strapping it tight. Normally, he wouldn't have bothered with it, but the rain would have made it hard to see.
Without any further ado, Haru took off. As always, he completely ignored the speed limit, and soon made it to his place in what seemed like no time at all. Currently he lived in an old, run-down, abandoned house in what looked like the middle of nowhere- he simply couldn't afford anything better at the moment. He sure as hell didn't like it, but he had only recently gotten out of jail so there wasn't much he could do about it.
"Home sweet home, eh? Ha." He muttered to himself as the bike came to a stop inside of the garage. The door to it was broken, so the garage was doomed to stay open forever. Haru didn't really care, although he made sure to park the bike in the darkest part of it so as not to tempt thieves. Not that there would really be too many out in such a place, but he didn't feel like taking chances with it. Once he was done, he left the bike and went inside the house.
The door in the garage led to the kitchen, which opened up to the living room and the bedrooms. The house itself was pretty empty, save for a cheap couch in the living room. It was a meager living at best. Haru knew he could have asked for a couple of favors among the former members of the Plague Riders, but he simply wasn't that type of person. He hated asking people for money, and it was something he would rather die than do.
He immediately made his way to his room. It was a very simple room- just a bed, a dresser, and a computer that a sat on a computer desk. Without even bothering to change his clothes, he sat down at the computer desk.
"Time to play my trump card...."
A mask appeared in Haru's hand. It was a bit small and a silver-blue in color. Gold highlighted where the eyes where, and intricate gold lining decorated the mask. It was a pretty thing, something Haru didn't much care for. He put the mask on.
"Information is power."
Haru felt the mask sink into him as if it were becoming part of him. His hair turned black with blue highlights, and his emerald green eyes turned to that of sapphire blue. An auxiliary wire formed at the base of his neck, a direct connection to his brain. His once constantly smirking expression turned blank- an expression completely devoid of emotion.
Hanged Man, the technological mask that specializes in the collection and usage of data. He opened his eyes, looking to the computer in front of him, and immediately got to work. It took him no time at all to bypass both the first and the second passwords, as he simply logged into the chatroom as he usually did. It was practically second nature for him to hack his way through; things like passwords and firewalls were little more than mere annoyances.
"Hanged Man, reporting for duty. Chatroom security has been updated. Standing by." His voice, although pleasant to hear, was flat and monotone.
The setting changes from Backstreets of Throme to Dullahan Library
James Lyon ; Home - Dullahan Library Underground Car Park
Wasn't there always those last second fiddles you had to make, when going anywhere? Always. There was always the little hold ups that made you unable to be early. That, or fate was conspiring against him, as usual. James sighed as he looked himself in the mirror. He wanted to look professional, even though he knew it would go to waste when he transformed into Axilious.
Sighing once, and shaking his head, he grabbed the brush one last time and ran it as quickly as he could through his short hair, making sure not to leave a single knot before walking to his apartment's door. Nothing left for him to do but lock up, and hope to hell that he got something interesting to do as a Masked Task.
After all, he had one of the most special masks, even if he was the most average normally. Ugh. How he hated reminding himself of that. Shaking his head, he clicked the lock shut behind him, leaving his apartment darkened for the evening. If they were actually doing something tonight, he wouldn't be back for a while.
Checking his wrist-watch/communicator, he confirmed both that he'd be on time, and that there were no last minute changes of plan sent by Liesel. SHE was special. She didn't even have a mask. Frigging King too. The both of them were standouts without the masks, where he was only in there because he had the mask. He felt bitter just contemplating it. Everyone had luck but him.
Shrugging that back off, he made his way across the city, pausing here, waiting on traffic there, but the estimated time was just about the same. As he now stood metres away from the side entrance down into the underground carpark, he took refuge behind the conveniently placed greenery that was the start of the Library gardens.
'There's a man, deep within' The mask appeared. It was glorious. Unique. Brilliant. It was the side he wished he could fade into every day. 'Who feareth not the deadly sin.' As the mask touched his face, ecstasy crossed his features for a moment, before the plain brown hair flushed a brilliant blond, and the clothes shifted into the almost outlandish costume of Axilious.
'Ohho, mission me, mission my. Where else do we go to die? Hahaha.' Laughing to himself, he stepped, flourishingly, out of the cover, and strode confidently into the exit down to the underground carpark. 'There is no place like home.' Is all that the flamboyant Jack says upon entry, smirking around at the already arrived, before attempting to seek out the figure of Liesel, who was probably smoking somewhere around here.
The setting changes from Dullahan Library to Sagaro Mall
*Easter speech by Nivosity*
Kaden Jannsen; Sagaro Mall, 1st Floor -> 2nd Floor Theater
Kaden Jannsen; Sagaro Mall, 1st Floor -> 2nd Floor Theater
Kaden walked into Sagaro, as always awestruck by the elegant beauty within. He had drawn a few pictures spurred from various parts of the mall: a cold, icy civilization from the Ice Rink, a map of stars from the observatory, the bustling crowd, grand clock, and floor-by-floor architecture viewed from above, and there was still so much more that he could draw from. Whenever he needed to relax or find inspiration, he walked somewhere, anywhere, and most of the time that place was here. Today, like every Friday, that Easter clown was here, selling his balloons. They had always seemed enticing for some strange reason (it wasn't like he was a kid, but for some reason they held an appeal that he couldn't explain), but he had never gotten around to asking about them. Why not? Now would be the day. He had some time before the scheduled meeting. It was worth a shot, and if it started to take too long, he'd just leave. Here goes nothing! "Excuse me, how much for a balloon? That black and silver one over there, to be exact?"
The clown turned at the question, glancing at the balloon and then glaring back at Kaden. "Balloons? How much are they worth? The price of happiness? The purchase of a balloon." He looked back at the black and silver balloon, the only one of that color in the shop. "Twenty argen for the silver-black pretty." With a hopeful expression at a sudden thought, Easter's eyes lit up, and he glanced through his stock before settling on a partially-deflated green balloon. "This one's 69 cents. You should buy that one instead. It's green. It would be good for you. It likes you more than the black-silver pretty." Glaring at Kaden once again, he gestured away from the black and silver balloon to the green one.
It was almost funny how worked up this clown was getting, enough for Kaden to actually want to buy that exorbitant price just to spite him. He brought out the money, "Here, may I have that delightful black and silver balloon?" He smirked at the clown's cross muttering as he took the money and went to take the balloon. He only could make out a few words, but they seemed to be repeated. "Pretty," "dead," "silver," "boss," "bad," "forever," and maybe a few more that Kaden just couldn't catch.
Kaden took the balloon and tied it securely to his wrist (It was pretty, wasn't it?) before going up the escalator to the second floor. The main attraction here: a movie theater. Well, eight to be exact. The good news was, people didn't care as much about other people in public movie theaters. It was dark, people always talked, and "kids these days" were always on their phones. He'd just be another one of "them." Now all that was left was to pick a theater, and it didn't matter which show was playing, just that he was safe within the theater from prying eyes. For which movie might they think he's just a cosplaying young man and pay him little regard? Well, they'd think him strange at the very least, but strange may be normal. It would be best to avoid using powers until they were essential. It would be simpler just to wear the mask, not transform into the meddlesome, ignorant Caine, but rules were rules, and you never messed with Itex. Whatever. If Caine caused any trouble, that was his problem, not Kaden's.
Skinwalkers. That sounded interesting and maybe cosplay-acceptable. Kaden had heard something about it, and it was from a post-apocalyptic world. He'd be able to get by, make something up as needed. Kaden walked up to the box office, bought a ticket at the student discount, digging through his pockets for 7 argen (he barely had that much with him after the balloon), and proceeded to theater 7. There were quite a few people here, more than expected, so it was apparently a new movie or maybe just a good one, who cares. Kaden walked up to the top of the theater, sitting in the back rows and whispered a few words. What they meant wasn't important, but what they did was.
"Ingredere rem ignotam." His mask appeared, and he slipped it on, another's voice whispering chaotically through his head, offering ideas or just random thoughts here and there. A jumbled painting and accompanying story had resulted from this, but enough of that. The final words. "Mens amens coepit."
Caine Strauss, Itex Moon; Itex Voice Chat
It was dark. Who was he kidding? It was always dark, but that mattered little. Magic, sound, smell, whatever it was that gave Caine a highly-tuned perception of his surroundings eliminated that problem. It was some sort of "theater," as the counterpart called it, and the screen in front would display images (which he couldn't see), and the speakers around would project the sound (which would be distracting, to say the least). It wasn't the best place for a "chat," but who was he to tell the counterpart how to live his life. Just so long as that counterpart (Caden, he called himself? Something like that...) didn't mess up as monumentally as last time. He's just an idiot who has no idea what he's messing with, and yet he thinks it's in his best interests to pull an unwilling subject away from his daily life. Learn your place and stay there.
And there was something on his wrist, a string, held up in the air by... a thing, something he couldn't name or even describe. Was it simply air? Did this world have powers which his counterpart had neglected to inform him of? They would have to have a talk later. This device was intriguing, even if the purpose was concealed. Turning his minds to more important things, Caine brought out the "writing tablet" to take care of business, putting in the "headphones."
Fiddling with the device, a click may have been heard, passcodes scrawled, and the private chat began. "Caine here. Or... I suppose it's 'The Moon' you want. I'm he, me, go on whoever's here. What's new?"
The setting changes from Sagaro Mall to Throme
-Brandon Clavell. His apartment-
"Those arrogant, self important, sanctimonious pieces of crap."
The lights of the apartment automatically snapped into life as Brandon Clavell strode through the front door, wrestling with the buttons of his rain sodden jacket. Straight into the living room, finally tearing the jacket free he tossed it aside, barely registering the stark, obviously expensive cleanliness of the room, all sheer white lines and aluminium. An expensive leather couch dead centre, top class laptop sitting on the glass and steel coffee table, massive plasma screen fitted directly into the windowed wall that took up the entire far side of the apartment and looked out over the city, it was like an art deco take on a temple, outfitted for modern life. Zen connectivity. It landed with a wet slap on the back of the couch, left a dirty smear as it slid down, came to rest in a crumpled heap amongst the cushions, leaking water.
He paid it no heed, caring little for the fact that it would probably mark the leather, or that his cleaner had obviously been here earlier today. That was what he paid her for, after all, and another couch could always be bought.
Stalking into the kitchen, he wrenched open a cupboard, still muttering under his breath. "Department harbours cause for concern, oh, of course." Snatching a glass from the row of pristine, identical glasses inside, slamming it on the counter hard enough to leave it ringing, he span, all flailing limbs, wrenched open another cupboard, twisted the top from a randomly snatched bottle of alcohol, half filled the glass with what turned out to be Talisker 57 whisky, downed it in one. "Certain practices may be out of line with company policy. Yeah."
Glass refilled, bottle left open on the countertop, he marched back into the living room, slammed the glass down, flipped the laptop open. It's not like anything he'd been doing was illegal. Not like other departments hadnt done the same thing in slower times. No, far as he knew, the entire damn industry was a grey area, and his boss hadnt been quite so contemptuous when profits had been higher. Oh no. As long as the money was flowing, everything was fine. Now the economy was screwed, morals apparently mattered again.
He took a deep breath, leant back, looked up at the ceiling as the laptop whirred through its boot process. It didnt matter now, anyway. No. What mattered now was the message from Itex. Those few words meant something was happening. The laptop beeped once as he ran his fingertip across the inbuilt scanner and fired up the secure chat program then rose, pacing back and forth whilst it sought connection.
"Come on, what's taking so long." His fingers drummed a staccato rhythm on the arm of the couch until, finally, the login window swam into view, and for a second the only sound was the rattle of the keyboard, the smack of the enter key loud enough to send the glass sat halfway across the table ringing. Standing, letting out a held breath, Brandon ran both hands up his face, back and through his hair, paused before speaking the words of calling.
"Control is everything." Fingertips shivered as the mask materialised, gold and white, expressionless. He raised it to his face, spoke the second set of words as if singing a hymn. "And all I witness, I own." and bucked, snapped backwards, hit by a sudden and singular shock, a blast of wind that affected only him, vanished quick enough that a witness would have questioned it had even happened.
The man who stood where Brandon had been a second before stood in complete silence for a moment, dispassionately regarding the room around him, lingering on the whisky for a second. He blinked, picked it up, took a small sip, smiling gently as the smoky taste blossomed across his tongue, and only then turned his attention to the laptop, the screen blankly stating he had less than one hundred seconds to input the second password.
Sinking into the couch, pushing the abandoned jacket aside with a flicker of distaste, he leant forward, tapped the keys with steady, even precision, then simply sat back and waited for a connection. With earbud in place he took another sip from the glass, thumbed the mic, then spoke with a voice low and melodious, but full of self assurance.
"This is Strength. What needs to be done."
Cecil Vogel
Throme - Out and About
Throme - Out and About
Sometimes, Cecil worried the weather would grow so dark it would blot out memories of Tania and the iced teas they spent drinking on hot summer afternoons. He worried for his plants, for his disowned sister’s glimmering smile, and for his own father’s safety. But that’s all he ever did – worry. He never actually went out and did something about it, and for that, he couldn’t forgive himself.
Cecil stared at his own hands, and peered outside the custom bulletproof windows of the Mercedes. The only sunshine these days ever brought were nothing but isolated rays bleeding through grim clouds. Sad, really.
The car slowed to a stop in front of a gardening store. Cecil preferred to walk around Throme most days, but given how temperamental the weather had gotten, he’d chosen to take the car. Besides, walks weren’t the same without Tatiana by his side. The chauffeur stepped out of the car, opened the umbrella, and – thump - the car door opened.
Rain spattered on Cecil’s crisp white button-up. What was that Tania used to tell him? That he was too pretty to ever really be strong? She was right, as always, but… Well, he was going to have to try, wasn’t he? Cecil drew a deep breath, closed his eyes and counted to three, puffed his chest out and –
Cecil Vogel stepped out of the car, self-assured and calm, with long strides that betrayed no fear. Slung over his arm was a black suit jacket, and by his side was a chauffeur struggling to keep his boss safe from the persistent rain.
“CLOSED”
Aw man. Cecil maintained an unperturbed expression. Now, where was he supposed to get some fertilizer? Honestly, Cecil knew stores would be closing around the time he left home, but how was he to know how tough the traffic would get? Scratch that. He knew. He just didn’t want to admit that maybe he’d taken too long to study for his exam next week.
The blond scoffed and returned to the car, leaving the chauffeur scrabbling behind him. He ducked into the safe confines of the car and leaned back into the leather seat with an unhappy sigh.
Er. What now? Oh, right. He ought to give the driver instructions. Cecil crossed his legs and looked out the window, waiting for the driver. The poor man was dripping wet by the time he entered the car again, and Cecil almost handed the driver his jacket before stopping himself. First of all, Father would disapprove if he ever caught wind, which he would, eventually. Father always heard when Cecil did something wrong. Secondly, the driver would probably be too afraid to take it anyway. Reinhart Vogel had instilled a strict sense of fear in his employees, constantly reminding them of their supposed inferiority.
What was that? Oh yeah. ‘It is better to be feared and loved than just loved.’ Or something like that. Cecil didn’t know, didn’t remember. He wasn’t very good with memorizing stuff. Besides, he had more important things to attend to – like how to spend the remaining hour and fifteen minutes he’d allotted for his break. After this, he’d have to go right back to studying before rushing to a dinner party being held by one of his father’s senior partners in the firm. Ack. He winced at the thought of his busy night. He’d deal with that later – his schedule was flawless, anyway. For now, he just needed some place nice and cozy, some place that felt like home, but didn’t have his father or older sisters stomping about.
Maybe Eden was still open.
“Let’s drop by Eden,” Cecil said.
The driver glanced at Atty. Vogel's only son through the rear view mirror, opened his mouth to say something, but then thought better of it.
The car drove on in silence.
When they finally arrived at Eden, it was a little past six. Closed as well, Cecil thought. Still, he thought he saw someone moving behind all the flowers arranged by the window, and decided it would be worth getting out and taking a look. He was a regular at Eden – surely Ms. Rozenmare would take that into consideration?
Hopefully.
Cecil bit his lip as the driver ran out into the rain and opened an umbrella for Cecil again. He had to stop with all these hopefullies. Father wouldn’t approve. Hope was for the weak. The strong knew the facts. There was no room for hope – just would or would not.
The car door opened again. This time, Cecil slipped into his suit jacket, buttoned it, and smoothed imagined creases away before stepped out of the car. Through sheets of rain pouring down over the umbrella, a stunning young man stood at Eden’s door.
He supposed the door wouldn’t be locked yet, if Ms. Rozenmare was still inside. Common courtesy wouldn’t hurt, though. He knocked at the door and patiently waited for the woman inside to take notice of him.
Her flowers were beautiful, as usual. He wondered if he could perhaps ask her where he could get peonies for his garden. He especially wanted blood red ones; they were so striking – or some orange Japanese lantern flowers. Those were equally beautiful. Cecil contained his excitement with a small cough and, after waiting a minute or so, peered through the window to see if Ms. Rozenmare had noticed someone at the door. If she didn’t, he’d have to knock again.
The setting changes from Throme to Little Maybelle
Calanthia Rozenmare
"When the chrysanthemum blooms, we shall chat until the rain stops..."
~~~~~~++~~~~~~
Little Maybelle - The Flower Shop, "Eden" - 6:45 PM - November 21 - Raining - Closing Hours
"When the chrysanthemum blooms, we shall chat until the rain stops..."
~~~~~~++~~~~~~
Little Maybelle - The Flower Shop, "Eden" - 6:45 PM - November 21 - Raining - Closing Hours
Inside the office of Eden's owner, a distinctive sullen mood could be felt. This was further enhanced by the falling rain which showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. There was no need for a psychic or a very emphatic person to take noticed of that. Calanthia leaned onto her chair with her eyes closed as she tried to ease her nerves after reading the irritating e-mail that was sent to her. She had made it clear that she did not want to be dragged into matters that were no longer her concerns. On the day that her brother died, she had ceased to care for anything else not related to her current career as a botanist and florist.
Releasing a soft sigh, Thia slowly opened her eyes of ash mauve. They had returned to its usual calm countenance. It seemed that the sudden outburst had never occurred to begin with. During this state, she reopened her laptop and immediately erased the said e-mail. She had also taken the liberty to block the e-mail address of the one who sent her such a nonsensical message. After doing so, she glanced at the wall clock once more to see that it was 15 minutes before 7 in the evening. From the sounds of the falling rain, there was no chance that she could leave the Eden without having a few scuffles with the current weather. She was about to release another sigh which was to show her frustration. However, the sound of a knock interrupted her do so.
Murmuring softly to herself, Thia exited her office and went towards the main doors of her shop. She wondered if an employee of hers had forgotten something. It was not hard to think that way as it had happened a few times. Although, they would have rather chosen to enter than have the courtesy to knock. Keeping herself wary especially when she had received that e-mail, she did not want to be taken surprised as of now. Slowly approaching the doors, she peeked behind the windows to see her guest. There was nothing wrong in being too careful. It was then she saw the familiar face of a regular customer of hers which instantly sedated her concerns. As a result, she opened the doors and greeted with her usual gentle smile. Although, she has a bit of concern. After all, it was quite a dreary weather and she was certain it was common knowledge that stores like hers were usually closed at this time of hour. So, she had concluded that there must some kind of important matter needed to be discussed.
"Good evening, Mr. Vogel. Is there something wrong? Before you answer that, please come inside."
Thia ushered the young son of the Vogel family inside her store along with her driver. She did not want both of them to catch cold. After doing so, she offered them to take their respective seats. In the process, she also took the opportunity to serve them a pair of steaming hot chrysanthemum tea along with towels to dry themselves. She had already prepared them beforehand as she had foresaw that she would be staying inside her store for quite some time. When the common courtesy was all done, she took a seat which was opposite of Cecil. She looked quite stunning with her pale gray Merino ruched turtleneck sweaterdress which reaches just a few centimeters above her knee partnered by a pair of black wedge booties to complete her look. It complemented her figure as her curly black locks were put into a half ponytail style as it cascaded around her face like gentle waves. Overall, it was not too much to say that she was a beauty to behold in her own right.
"So... what's the emergency that you would need to come to my store at such a time and weather? You are a treasured customer of mine. I would not like to see you ill or hurt if I could help it."
Asking with a sense of concern, Thia looked at those blue eyes of Cecil with her ash mauve eyes. She waited patiently for the answer to her inquiry. It was not like she did not want him inside her store. Actually, she was quite grateful for his presence right now. It helped her to take her mind off such unwanted matters. Furthermore, she seemed to be perpetually trapped in the store for the duration of the night unless the rain stops. So, his companion was well-appreciated. Even if she appears distant in her dealings with people, she still likes their company from time to time. After all, no one truly wants to be alone in the end which includes her.
Releasing a soft sigh, Thia slowly opened her eyes of ash mauve. They had returned to its usual calm countenance. It seemed that the sudden outburst had never occurred to begin with. During this state, she reopened her laptop and immediately erased the said e-mail. She had also taken the liberty to block the e-mail address of the one who sent her such a nonsensical message. After doing so, she glanced at the wall clock once more to see that it was 15 minutes before 7 in the evening. From the sounds of the falling rain, there was no chance that she could leave the Eden without having a few scuffles with the current weather. She was about to release another sigh which was to show her frustration. However, the sound of a knock interrupted her do so.
"Who could that be? A guest at this late hour..."
Murmuring softly to herself, Thia exited her office and went towards the main doors of her shop. She wondered if an employee of hers had forgotten something. It was not hard to think that way as it had happened a few times. Although, they would have rather chosen to enter than have the courtesy to knock. Keeping herself wary especially when she had received that e-mail, she did not want to be taken surprised as of now. Slowly approaching the doors, she peeked behind the windows to see her guest. There was nothing wrong in being too careful. It was then she saw the familiar face of a regular customer of hers which instantly sedated her concerns. As a result, she opened the doors and greeted with her usual gentle smile. Although, she has a bit of concern. After all, it was quite a dreary weather and she was certain it was common knowledge that stores like hers were usually closed at this time of hour. So, she had concluded that there must some kind of important matter needed to be discussed.
"Good evening, Mr. Vogel. Is there something wrong? Before you answer that, please come inside."
Thia ushered the young son of the Vogel family inside her store along with her driver. She did not want both of them to catch cold. After doing so, she offered them to take their respective seats. In the process, she also took the opportunity to serve them a pair of steaming hot chrysanthemum tea along with towels to dry themselves. She had already prepared them beforehand as she had foresaw that she would be staying inside her store for quite some time. When the common courtesy was all done, she took a seat which was opposite of Cecil. She looked quite stunning with her pale gray Merino ruched turtleneck sweaterdress which reaches just a few centimeters above her knee partnered by a pair of black wedge booties to complete her look. It complemented her figure as her curly black locks were put into a half ponytail style as it cascaded around her face like gentle waves. Overall, it was not too much to say that she was a beauty to behold in her own right.
"So... what's the emergency that you would need to come to my store at such a time and weather? You are a treasured customer of mine. I would not like to see you ill or hurt if I could help it."
Asking with a sense of concern, Thia looked at those blue eyes of Cecil with her ash mauve eyes. She waited patiently for the answer to her inquiry. It was not like she did not want him inside her store. Actually, she was quite grateful for his presence right now. It helped her to take her mind off such unwanted matters. Furthermore, she seemed to be perpetually trapped in the store for the duration of the night unless the rain stops. So, his companion was well-appreciated. Even if she appears distant in her dealings with people, she still likes their company from time to time. After all, no one truly wants to be alone in the end which includes her.
The setting changes from Little Maybelle to Throme
Aki Evedane | Dullahan Library Main Entrance | November 21
A few seconds later, he averted his sapphire blue eyes. Staring at his own reflection seemed to be unproductive, even when he was in such a bored state. Plus, since his entire figure was tinged copper and his appearance was impeccable like always, there really wasn’t anything to look at. Well, while he was still here at the library, there were only a few things that he could actually do.
One. Go home, explain the current unfortunate circumstances to his father, dig one of the spare jackets up from the closets, and well, tell him to come back tomorrow and look for it himself. That’d be fine - except his father wasn’t the type to do any work that he could escape from.
Two. Try to find a way in. Maybe there was a few unlocked windows somewhere - no, that strayed too far from disobeying the law, and he already had enough cops on his tail. Didn’t need a couple hundred tailing him, itching to finally get the ‘highschooler with the bandages’ for breaking and entering? So what did that leave him with -
His train of thought was broken off when he caught sight of a young male, with an umbrella, walking down the street. With his brown hair and very boring appearance, Aki would usually have never noticed him. Other than the fact that he was traveling in the middle of Throme’s less busy districts, really - he had to emphasize the point that this person was probably the most boring person in the entire city. But why would anyone be here on a Friday afternoon? Well, obviously, Aki himself was an exception to that rule, but there really wasn’t anything to do in Throme around these parts anyways. Other than visit the unfortunately closed library, of course.
His interest piqued, he stared at the guy until he disappeared and turned the corner. Aki breathed out once, trying to persuade himself that whatever the guy was doing - it wasn’t going to be interesting. He failed, of course, and found himself quickly climbing down the stairs, before following Guy stealthily. Just in time to see him hide behind a bush as though he was trying not to be seen.
Now that was interesting. No matter how Aki ever tried to rationalize it, there could be nothing normal about a guy who was trying to escape notice. Guy was doing something hidden there, and even as Aki tried to get closer without being too noticeable, Guy stepped out from his cover. “Ohho, mission me, mission my. Where else do we go to die? Hahaha.” Except for the fact that he wasn’t the same Guy. This Guy, with his eyeshattering blond hair, and flamboyant clothing, looked nothing like the mousy brown-haired one from before. He didn’t act the same either, walking down the side path as though he was the king of the world.
There was only one thing that could explain this. A simple, magical explanation. A mask. Either that or the ability to unfurl his skin and exchange it for another appearance.
Aki sighed, before he backed away from the dogging of Guy’s steps. While normally he wouldn’t have gone through such a hassle - really, Fortune was as bad as they came - but it was the one tool that he had at his disposal to get to the bottom of the mess. He knew enough to know that whoever these people were, they wouldn’t take kindly to an eavesdropper, and he’d probably have to do away with his relatively uninjured state.
Stepping to the side of the street, he chose one of the larger pruned trees from the library gardens and hunched behind it. Checking to be sure that the coast was clear, he held one hand in front of him. “When you’re bored,” he watched as the mask faded into his hand, its silver metal eyeholes staring into his. Flipping it over, he placed it firmly on his face, feeling a familiar chill down his spine, before he finally enunciated that stupid-sounding phrase. “Gamble on my luck.”
Wheel of Fortune | Dullahan Library Main Entrance | November 21
Black hair turned sandy, blue eyes transformed into a gleaming gold, and a white scarf twisted its way over messy clothing. The Wheel of Fortune was in the house, and it was time for some fun! Looking around, he exaggeratedly contemplated his surroundings. Really? A stubby little tree? Bouncing up on the balls of his feet, he poked his head over the poor-looking plant, and saw something interesting.
A manboy with pfft clothing.
Maybe he thought that he was good enough to attract the attention of the Wheel of Fortune himself. He could barely stop himself from sticking out his tongue and blowing Pfftboy a raspberry, but some thought stopped him. Perhaps it would be more fun to just follow him for a bit, watch the show for a few hours, and then pop up out of nowhere. Well, Mr.Pfft was certainly having the time of his life walking down that street. Maybe he got the thrills from being watched. From the way he dressed, that certainly was a possibility.
There was nothing that he liked more than an actor that could put on a show. “You’re boring me… see you later then!” he finally whispered in an uncharacteristically muted voice. His form turned into a streak of black, and before long, he found himself joined into Pfftboy’s shadow. Almost like Siamese twins but without the twinness. The manboy went straight into the garage, as the Wheel of Fortune bounded on his feet and made strange faces at his back.
Liesel Moringmer | Dullahan Library Underground Car Park
How long had she been waiting? An hour? Maybe two?
How many clicks had it been?
Well, then again, she was the one who came early.
One wouldn’t have thought the woman anxious if it weren’t for the lighter in her tight grip. Even now, the click, click, clicking of the empty lighter persisted, growing more frantic with each passing second. With her free hand, she braced herself against one of the columns in the lot. ‘Get a hold of yourself, Moringmer,’ the she told herself, but the crease wouldn’t leave her brow. Her lips were still pulled in that terribly agitated scowl. Damn it. She heaved a sigh tired sigh, letting her unlit cigarette fall to the ground – she was far too worked up over this, over one measly change. She had thought that he couldn’t surprise her anymore… and then he went and pulled this stunt.
“Just what the hell’re you thinking this time, Torrings?” she murmured. One would think that she’d be used to the man’s antics by now… ha. She’d like to see anyone who could read Arthur Torrings. After all, she’d known him for all of four years and she still didn’t have a clue. Just when she thought she had him all sorted, was finally dancing to his tune, he always went and changed up the rhythm and tripped her up. That man had a real knack for making her want to throttle him. Her gaze idly followed one of the last cars leaving the car park. About time. The library had been closed for quite some time now.
click, click, click
With another agitated sigh, she pulled up her left sleeve, glancing at the customized com-unit at her wrist.
Outbox: 12
Inbox: 0
click, click, click
“Fuck you too, Arthur,” she muttered, eyes narrowing just ever so slightly. Damn it. Why wouldn’t he answer? It was always like this with him – he says what he wants then just disappears for another week or two or if, she was lucky, even a month. He was never there when she needed him… well, no. That was obviously just a frustrated lie. He was always there at the right moments… but never anytime else. Like right now. His little present for a certain someone was weighing rather heavily on her mind (and lightly in the pocket of her coat). She was always the messenger, wasn’t she?...
The woman was snapped out of her thoughts and to attention at a sudden footstep. Hm? "What will it be? Joker? Ahahaha! What a joke-reporting for duty!" Ah, it was her. The first of the lot, finally. The lighter was tucked away into her pocket.
“Took y’long enough, eh, Karim?” Liesel called, an irritated smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Where’s the rest of the deck?” As soon as the question left her mouth, the second arrival showed himself. And then there were two… there were only two. And here Liesel had thought that she was being a kind and considerate person by setting the meeting this far into the day, but hey, what did she know? This obviously wasn’t a good time, despite everyone agreeing to it, or whatever happened to suddenly pop up in their schedules was more important than the fate of the city itself. Obviously, otherwise everyone would have been on time like she had told them to over and over.
She gave the missing members ten seconds benefit before her patience snapped. “Damn it, is it just you two?!” Her voice echoed in the car park, making it seem even louder than it was. A glance at her wrist told her the time: too late. She couldn’t wait much longer. “Leave it to you idiots to throw a wrench into plans first thing. Damn it.” She had planned to send three to one location and two to the other, but that wasn’t going to work right now. Sinking deeper into her thoughts, the woman began to pace, eyes shut in concentration. “Damn it! And you,” she said, pointing blindly at the Jack, “you’re not even complete yet. I can’t send you off alone, can I? Don’t answer that, I know I can’t.” Not unless she wanted more blood on her hands.
She could… no… or maybe… … all of a sudden, Liesel stopped, just heaving a sigh.
“Okay, you know what? We don’t have time for this,” she said flatly. She looked up, eyes narrowed, and gave both the Joker and the Jack a firm look. “Bottom line, Itex is acting up – getting more active – and we’ve got word on certain hotspots.” She glanced at her wrist once more. “There’s no time for questions – we don’t know when they’ll hit,” she continued, “so for now I want you two to head on over to Lil’ Maybelle. Not the main district, but that shady little area behind that… that spot apart from the popular bit, behind that rental shop or whatever.” They’d know where she meant. Probably. And if not, they should be used to her directions by now, so not her problem.
“Your job is to intercept whatever Itex plans to do there. If y’need specifics or got any questions, you got the units,” she lifted her wrist, “that I passed out. Just shoot me a message on the go.” Well, with that, she was done. The red-haired woman simply folded her arms and leaned against one of the supporting pillars… oh no, wait. “And you know the drill – keep away from civilians. You aren’t superheroes. You aren’t vigilantes. You have a mission, so focus on that. And Ax, you in particular, be careful – believe it or not, you have a bigger disadvantage than you realize with that mask of yours.”
And now she was done… and while they were on their way, she would be spending God-knows-how-long waiting on the rest of them.
Judgement ; Itex Voice Chat
To all in the chat, a sixth voice finally spoke, though it almost seemed as if it had been there the whole time. "I see that the Tower has deigned to grace us with his presence," the voice chimed, as though congratulating the absentee on his arrival. "But it seems we've no more time to waste."
The flippant tone of the voice suddenly vanished, replaced instead by a colder tone – one which demanded obedience. "Chariot." the voice rang, before being replaced by more chipper tones. "You are in charge of the first group of three – though you'll only have two." It was almost as if he found the Tower's absence, and the subsequent hole it made in the first team, humorous.
"Strength. You're going with him." The order was delivered in the almost carefree manner it had started talking. "Both of you will be headed to Orion Street, in the backstreets, where you'll pick up a package. Chariot shall keep the package tonight, and tomorrow he will receive directions to where it will be delivered."
Not even waiting for acknowledgement from the two ordered, the voice changed targets. "Hanged Man." the chiming voice fleetingly paused on the name, "you will be leading the second group." The voice sounded like a verbal pat on the back – as if this were a gargantuan task finally completed. "Hermit. Moon. You're going with him." No accolades for them, though, just a fleeting pass over as if they weren't worth the effort.
"You three are heading to Liron Pier, where you'll meet a contact. They will recognise you, so you needn't worry about finding them." A little tiredly, the voice paused and thought for a moment, "And be careful..." the trailing sounded drawn, as if to hold the implication he cared for the Lower Itex for a moment, "of the packages. There will be quite a few angered if contents are either lost or broken." the chimed words were almost cruelly said, but before a reply could be given, the voice spoke one last time.
"That is all. Be about your tasks. And do not attract the attention of anyone while doing your tasks." There was no false warmth or happiness in this statement, blank and hard as it was. The second he finished speaking, the signal on the screen showed all present that he'd signed out.
Strength cocked one eyebrow, the only indication of emotion on his face as Judgement logged out, just as swiftly as he'd logged in. Though the face was stolid and calm, the mind behind whirled, processing the information, or lack of, that had been given, working plans, tactics, eventualities.
"Chariot, this is Strength." Despite the familiarity in tone, Chariot was as unknown to him as the place they would be sent tonight. As were most of the names he'd heard spoken. Idly, he wondered if Brandon had set something up to automatically record the conversation, as he nearly always did with important communiques, whether it was from work or otherwise. All the better to dissect and disseminate for information, for blackmail material. Amazing the things people let slip sometimes, and just as amazing how little people actually picked up in general conversation. Hence the repeated listenings.
Whilst Orion street wasnt somewhere he'd visited before, it was close by, maybe twenty minutes brisk walk, half a dozen subway stops. Thumbing the mic again, he snapped up a browser based map site, flicked it to the area they were headed. "I can be at Orion street in thirty minutes." he said, taking a deep breath and committing the labrynthine streets around their target to memory. "I'll be on the eastwards approach, just outside the.." A slight pause, one blink to recall. "Coffee shop on the corner. Meet me there."
Whilst Judgement had ostensibly put the Chariot in charge, simple things such as meeting points mattered little. Besides, whilst he wouldnt share the opinion, judging from the twisting sing song lilt of Judgement's voice, alternately harsh and lyrical, and the sheer amazing lack of actual hard information he'd given them, their boss wasnt the most professional of gentlemen. To not even be told what the package was or where or who they would be expected to retrieve it from left him cold. Still, that was none of his concern. This was the objective. It would be completed.
Without another word, he signed off, shutting down the laptop and placing the earpiece and microphone carefully on top of it. For one long moment he simply sat there staring into the black screen, as if the distorted reflection of himself held all the answers, then snapped to attention and strode into the master bedroom.
Two minutes later and he was at the door, leather bomber jacket on over the same shirt and trousers Brandon had come home in. Taking a moment to check pockets, make sure he wasnt carrying any identifying items, Strength clicked off the light and left the apartment.
"Chariot, this is Strength." Despite the familiarity in tone, Chariot was as unknown to him as the place they would be sent tonight. As were most of the names he'd heard spoken. Idly, he wondered if Brandon had set something up to automatically record the conversation, as he nearly always did with important communiques, whether it was from work or otherwise. All the better to dissect and disseminate for information, for blackmail material. Amazing the things people let slip sometimes, and just as amazing how little people actually picked up in general conversation. Hence the repeated listenings.
Whilst Orion street wasnt somewhere he'd visited before, it was close by, maybe twenty minutes brisk walk, half a dozen subway stops. Thumbing the mic again, he snapped up a browser based map site, flicked it to the area they were headed. "I can be at Orion street in thirty minutes." he said, taking a deep breath and committing the labrynthine streets around their target to memory. "I'll be on the eastwards approach, just outside the.." A slight pause, one blink to recall. "Coffee shop on the corner. Meet me there."
Whilst Judgement had ostensibly put the Chariot in charge, simple things such as meeting points mattered little. Besides, whilst he wouldnt share the opinion, judging from the twisting sing song lilt of Judgement's voice, alternately harsh and lyrical, and the sheer amazing lack of actual hard information he'd given them, their boss wasnt the most professional of gentlemen. To not even be told what the package was or where or who they would be expected to retrieve it from left him cold. Still, that was none of his concern. This was the objective. It would be completed.
Without another word, he signed off, shutting down the laptop and placing the earpiece and microphone carefully on top of it. For one long moment he simply sat there staring into the black screen, as if the distorted reflection of himself held all the answers, then snapped to attention and strode into the master bedroom.
Two minutes later and he was at the door, leather bomber jacket on over the same shirt and trousers Brandon had come home in. Taking a moment to check pockets, make sure he wasnt carrying any identifying items, Strength clicked off the light and left the apartment.
The setting changes from Throme to Liron River Pier
Caine Strauss, Itex Moon; Itex Voice Chat
"Hermit. Moon. You're going with him. You three are heading to Liron Pier, where you'll meet a contact. They will recognise you, so you needn't worry about finding them." There was more as well, but this was the main portion. His destination. The orders ended, and a click informed him of Judgement signing off. This was a strange form of communication; meeting in person was so much easier, especially if they'd meet eventually anyway. This was too much of a hassle, going from place to place. But Caine always seemed to be cleaning up after Kaden, and his own world was no different. "This is Moon, headed to the destination. I'll see you there," and he was signed off, just like that.
Just in time, the "movie," it was called, was just starting, and overview music was playing. It was probably showing flashes between different scenes which illustrated the points. Over it all was a male voice, theatric, with some echo effects thrown in as well. "In a world that's ended, the remnants of human life struggle to survive... Genetic mutations cause human-animal hybrids, some dangerous and feral. The others... are outcast and have one refuge of their own. There, a battle ensues regarding those humans who cast them out, ...who exiled them. Here... is the story of the Skinwalkers, Changers, and the humans they hate and love... The story... of a cat. ...ehehehehehe..." The voice changed, becoming more childlike and energetic. "See General Man over there? He's freaking out with his posse over there over a little speech. The town needs order, he gives it, but they still need these 'speeches' for 'morale' or some such boring little thing... and boring things they are! He can't even make a speech! Even I could do better! And I'm a cat! Look, over there, that's me, no a little over... there! Yeah, lookout, smookout, there were supposedly 'Rebels' around, but they weren't making a move. It was boring, can you blame me? Here, listen, it's a speech! Anyone could do better! See for yourself..."
Sagaro Mall -> Goatstone Bridge -> Liron River Pier
Ah, he had gotten drawn in, wasting time. And there wasn't any to waste, was there. Without waiting for more, Caine rushed from the aisle where he had paused in irritation and confusion at the voice and headed out the door. He headed through the rest of the mall mostly unnoticed. He had some sort of knack where people would just let him be. However, near the entrance someone said something strange... "The black-silver pretty! Who?" But it was of little consequence, and Caine was out the door and headed through the city, digging through his contact's head for a map of where he'd be going. It needed to be close to exact, or he might make a mistake. Luckily, Kaden never seemed to fail him there, as he visualized everything when he drew it out on paper. Everything was laid out in his mind, and there was a bridge to cross along the way. Why would he start off on the wrong side of the bridge? The idiot...
Grumbling, he walked along, drawing murmurs from his strange eyes. Sure, they'd forget about him soon after, but the less people took notice of him, the better. He remembered something Kaden had told him, about blind people using canes and to use one where possible. Sitting down against a building on the sidewalk, Caine pulled out his sketchpad, sketched what he needed, and muttered a few words before drawing the cane from the sketch. He staggered for a short instant, drawing a deep breath before continuing onward. Magic had a cost, it always did, but the cost was more here. He'd have to take more care than usual, or his life could be at risk. It was just his luck to be pulled into a world of stagnant magic. If only they knew what it could do, there'd be no need for this... "technology" thing. Sure, it was handy, but was it worth it? No technology could have saved her, no medicine. Only magic could, and he hadn't known... No, this wasn't the time. He was on the bridge, and the cane caught on a statue. He pushed his way around it and walked past with little hindrance. Someone may have offered a hand that was simply shrugged away. It was of little importance.
Finally there, he heard the water, felt the change of texture under his feet at the wooden pier, smelt the fish that must populate the water. But no one was there yet, so he sat down, his feet hanging over the edge of the pier. The suspended pocket of air hovered above him, still held in place by its string, a curiosity Kaden had left him but of which he knew nothing. Well, others would know, no doubt. The sketchpad came out again, and he drew a face, a girl's, one of the few that mattered, one of the few he remembered. One which had fled from his hand many times but never his mind. He drew her face and waited, a mask of indifference on his own face, and a wary ear out for anything approaching.
The setting changes from Liron River Pier to Throme
Axilious ; Dullahan Library Underground Car Park - Little Maybelle
Ohho, and so, the backstage players were late! A smirk replaced the casual benevolent expression, as Liesel outlined her belief that he wouldn't do his job! Well, well, the script was drawn, and the audience in their positions. The play was ready to begin, surely?
'Of course, of course, I'll try to be careful, and not alert the presence of the baleful. But seriously, mademoiselle, your doubt in my abilities wounds me.' Feigning, quite obviously, and injured look, the flamboyant man suddenly spun around towards the other Masked there.
'Very well, Ms do tell, shall we be on our way?' And before there could humanely be a reply, it seemed he already assumed a yes. 'Alright, alright, the stars alight. We've but things to do tonight! A play awaits, the play dictates. We've a job to do, after all!'
Prancing along, almost bouncing every step of the way, Axilious vanished from the car park, continuing to walk as if the world was watching him from every angle. Of course, there was not a single soul around the library car park entrance at this time of night, but that didn't matter. Head tall, eyes forwards,each step a measured, controlled pace with just enough saunter to make it look sauve.
The setting changes from Throme to Dullahan Library
Cedric Valsche- Location Unknown
"Oh, Cedric..."
"Not yet, my queen, for the night is still young."
"Oh, Cedric!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Some time later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cedric put on the last of his clothing as he shut the door to his current mistress's apartment, a rather expensive trenchcoat that disguised his body features. He walked down the hallway, carrying a small duffel bag. His hair was slightly untidy, the only indication that he'd been having a most interesting night- he had brought an entire new change of clothing to help disguise his activities, not to mention hiding behind a pair of shades and a wide-brimmed hat just in case.
Oh! What time is it? Stopping for a moment, he checked his watch. Oh dear, it would seem that I'm terribly late for my meeting.... He picked up the pace as he headed out to where his personal chauffeur was waiting. Quickly getting into the car, he gave him directions and sat back for the ride.
Dullahan Library Underground Car Park
"Sir, we have arrived."
Without another word, Cedric left the comfort of his rather expensive-looking car and stepped out into the parking lot. He wore a mask, a pure white one to match his pure white suit.
"Have no fear, we can start now, for I have arrived! I do hope you'll all forgive me for my lateness, as I was attending to rather......delicate matters."
"Oh, Cedric..."
"Not yet, my queen, for the night is still young."
"Oh, Cedric!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Some time later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cedric put on the last of his clothing as he shut the door to his current mistress's apartment, a rather expensive trenchcoat that disguised his body features. He walked down the hallway, carrying a small duffel bag. His hair was slightly untidy, the only indication that he'd been having a most interesting night- he had brought an entire new change of clothing to help disguise his activities, not to mention hiding behind a pair of shades and a wide-brimmed hat just in case.
Oh! What time is it? Stopping for a moment, he checked his watch. Oh dear, it would seem that I'm terribly late for my meeting.... He picked up the pace as he headed out to where his personal chauffeur was waiting. Quickly getting into the car, he gave him directions and sat back for the ride.
Dullahan Library Underground Car Park
"Sir, we have arrived."
Without another word, Cedric left the comfort of his rather expensive-looking car and stepped out into the parking lot. He wore a mask, a pure white one to match his pure white suit.
"Have no fear, we can start now, for I have arrived! I do hope you'll all forgive me for my lateness, as I was attending to rather......delicate matters."
The setting changes from Dullahan Library to Throme
The Chariot ; Itex Voice Chat - The Backstreets; Orion street corner
The voices washed over the Chariot. The greetings, the orders, and lastly, his teammate being decisive. He smiled. He didn't mind, he preferred allies that could think for themselves. In fact, this one would do splendidly with their initiative, their lack of patience, even, for others to decide the course of action.
'I will be there. Welcome to the Lower Task Force, Strength.' The greeting wasn't even in the script. Hell, the group wasn't even named the 'Lower Task Force', but that didn't matter to Chariot. He was already bored of orders, and wanted action. Flicking the connection off, the computer down, Chariot stood up, recalling the immediate area from Shannon's memory. Dorm room. Wouldn't be good to come out of Shannon's room at all. After all, no grabbing attention, he said.
Grinning, Chariot opened the window, glancing around. The few students out and about had no focus on the window or the dorm, and would hardly notice one man. Besides that, this wasn't even anything but the small rest area, or outdoors study area. Or whatever people called it. Chariot lost all interest in it beyond -- 'Huuuup' -- dropping down into it. It was still raining, of course, but it hardly even bothered the Chariot. It pleased him, if anything.
Cold, chilly, easily makes someone hunch into their shell. A hazard when fighting, due to the various dangers it could cause, from muscle issues to the lack of solid ground to keep balance. It didn't matter to him anyways. He was a champion of battle, and even a hazard wouldn't touch him.
Forcing himself to slow his pace, he entered the small cluster of people with umbrellas that marked the street next to the campus. Pretending to hunch his shoulders and clutch at the jacket, he let the flow of feet carry him as he worked towards his destination. He could've easily doubled his speed, or even tripled it, but 'don't stand out' rang in his mind.
Sure, there wasn't even a full crowd of people pushing and pulling, and often there was a little space. But who remembers the average trundlers over the rushers? And besides, there was no harm in letting Strength get there first. Might even be a boon in the end.
It was a little longer until he arrived at the coffee shop, straightening and looking around for the aura of Strength. That one would never hide in a crowd.... Let alone the sparsity of a rainy day's traffic.
The setting changes from Throme to Liron River Pier
Calanthia Rozenmare
"There is a perfect arrangement for each flower, what will be yours...?"
~~~~~~++~~~~~~
Little Maybelle - The Flower Shop, "Eden" - 7:30 PM - November 21 - Raining - Closing Hours
~~~~~~++~~~~~~
"There is a perfect arrangement for each flower, what will be yours...?"
~~~~~~++~~~~~~
Little Maybelle - The Flower Shop, "Eden" - 7:30 PM - November 21 - Raining - Closing Hours
~~~~~~++~~~~~~
The conversation between Calanthia and Cecil had been quite pleasant that they did not noticed the passage of time. Topics and issues were tackled in a light manner without the need to go into the deep matters. Their teas were all done and even some confectioneries that she had served were all gone. These were some of the indications that their sporadic talk must come to an end. After all, even the nice things must come to an end at some point. As such, the only son of the illustrious Vogel family bid her farewell and in tow were a couple of seeds, fertilizer, and some goodwill advises. All in all, the separation was all in good terms as far as she could deduced.
Once, the car was far from her vision. Thia looked at the dark sky that continued to cry. She could only release a rather frustrated sigh. At this rate, the possibility of her staying inside her store was great. However, she really has no intention to do so. Remembering the folded umbrella inside her drawers, it would seem that she had no choice but to brave through the pouring rain. Shaking her head in disappointment, she closed the front doors and proceeded to do the same with her personal office. Making sure that every electrical appliances inside were properly turned off. She then gathered her purple over-sized tote bag while grabbing her umbrella and coat on the way out.
Walking through the hallways, Calla had decided to exit through the back entrance. Opening the door, she gazed at the curtain of water falling from the evening sky. Her ash mauve eyes had a subtle light of irritation on it. She was also still debating whether to take her chances inside the shoppe or to make her way home through the rain. Yet in the end, she wore her coat and then opened her umbrella. The decision was made as she exited the door and locked it afterwards. Feeling and hearing the rain colliding with her small shelter of an umbrella, she rolled her eyes and paved her way through the busy streets of Little Maybelle.
Once, the car was far from her vision. Thia looked at the dark sky that continued to cry. She could only release a rather frustrated sigh. At this rate, the possibility of her staying inside her store was great. However, she really has no intention to do so. Remembering the folded umbrella inside her drawers, it would seem that she had no choice but to brave through the pouring rain. Shaking her head in disappointment, she closed the front doors and proceeded to do the same with her personal office. Making sure that every electrical appliances inside were properly turned off. She then gathered her purple over-sized tote bag while grabbing her umbrella and coat on the way out.
Walking through the hallways, Calla had decided to exit through the back entrance. Opening the door, she gazed at the curtain of water falling from the evening sky. Her ash mauve eyes had a subtle light of irritation on it. She was also still debating whether to take her chances inside the shoppe or to make her way home through the rain. Yet in the end, she wore her coat and then opened her umbrella. The decision was made as she exited the door and locked it afterwards. Feeling and hearing the rain colliding with her small shelter of an umbrella, she rolled her eyes and paved her way through the busy streets of Little Maybelle.
Liron River Pier - 8:20 PM - November 21 - Raining
~~~~~~++~~~~~~
~~~~~~++~~~~~~
It was wet. It was cold. It was damp. It was messy. It was still raining. Calanthia was still walking among the people who were also braving through the watery path. She had tried catching a cab or a bus however, the rain made the public transportation hectic which she never understood the reason why it ever happens in the first place. In any case, she was stuck walking to her house. The walk was not troublesome however, it was irritating due to the rain which she blatantly dislikes. Gazing at the side of the road, she was walking along the rails while gazing at the river. There were little waves and there but not scary enough for there were no strong winds. Fortunately, it was like that. If it wasn't, she would be cursing everyone or she would not even dare try to leave her shoppe.
Ash mauve eyes had a certain glint of annoyance but also a certain glow of curiosity, The cause of the latter was probably due to a certain interesting interaction happening at a nearby dock at the pier. Thia was not concerned about it, however, there was this vague feeling of familiarity. It also urged her to slow down her pace as she walked passed them. Yet, there was also another conflicting emotion of wanting to ignore it all together. She did not need to get herself involved in such matter that would only bear troubles to her. The matter about the e-mail she had received earlier popped into her head. It effectively awakened her annoyance. As such, she quickened her pace once more. However, it was too late to just walk away anymore.
"Stupid... This is stupid..."
Ash mauve eyes had a certain glint of annoyance but also a certain glow of curiosity, The cause of the latter was probably due to a certain interesting interaction happening at a nearby dock at the pier. Thia was not concerned about it, however, there was this vague feeling of familiarity. It also urged her to slow down her pace as she walked passed them. Yet, there was also another conflicting emotion of wanting to ignore it all together. She did not need to get herself involved in such matter that would only bear troubles to her. The matter about the e-mail she had received earlier popped into her head. It effectively awakened her annoyance. As such, she quickened her pace once more. However, it was too late to just walk away anymore.
"Stupid... This is stupid..."
The setting changes from Liron River Pier to Throme
Two hundred meters from his house, Strength looked up at the sky and shook his head. Rain still hammered down relentless, the sun invisible behind grey clouds, thick on a sky that was also somehow itself grey. Ducking under the eave of the nearest building, another cut and paste residential block, he glanced both ways down the street, assessing options. Amazingly, despite the city traffic, there were no cabs in sight and the subway was another block away. Despite himself, he shivered in his jacket. Half a mile in this would soak him to the bone.
With no other option, Strength flicked up his collar, turned, and broke into a run. Dodging between the few people still on the streets, attracting more than a few questioning looks, he sprinted for the nearest supermarket, two blocks out of the way, barreling through the doors in a spray of rainwater. Barely two minutes later and he was back outside, unfurling a cheap black umbrella, the days newspaper tucked under his arm.
In a way, the rain was a boon. Whatever it was they were doing tonight was obviously clandestine, and the rain would provide a modicum of cover. After all, who'd be mad enough to be out in this weather. Except people like, well, him, obviously. Allowing himself a thin grin, Strength checked his watch, nodded at the clock in satisfaction, then doubled his pace, examining each person he walked past. Barely one in ten even looked at him, and the ones that did didnt give him a second glance. That was the problem with people these days. No one paid any attention to the world around them.
The rest of the journey was relatively uneventful, though he did make it a point to stop twice and let the traffic, foot and vehicle, flow on. From his vantage point across the road, the little coffee shop, some local joint called, inexplicably, the Muffin Break, was almost empty. The lights turned red and he crossed quickly, dodging between two cars as they slowed. One of them was a cab, its on duty light glowing, and the corners of Strength's eyes crinkled in wry amusement as he pushed open the door.
He'd been right. It was almost empty. Automatically breaking the room into quadrants, he strode towards the counter. The young couple giggling to themselves in the corner hadnt taken their eyes off each other, the businessman in the rumpled suit sitting at the table across rolling his eyes at each cutesy noise they made. The only other customer was a middle aged guy, alone at his table, half eaten sandwich sitting in front of him. Strength met his eyes, and the man gave him a half nod, running one hand across his shaved head.
He knew, in that half second, that the other man had sized him up in one practiced glance, just as Strength had assessed him. Mid 30s, dressed exactly nondescript enough to attract no attention, military, or ex at least, from the way he held himself. To put it bluntly, an operator. Someone who could handle himself. The guy stood, rising lithe and easy, reaching into his jacket, and Strength tensed.
"Guess it's my turn to brave the elements, eh pal."
His voice echoed with wear. Of too much hard liquor and tobacco. Smiling, or at least showing his teeth, the guy pulled a cheap cigarette from inside his jacket and stuck it between his lips. Without another word, or even waiting for a reply, he sauntered past, so close their shoulders brushed against each other, and pushed open the door. Strength watched him go in the mirrors behind the counter, only turning his eyes to the barista behind the counter when the door had closed again completely. Petite, one too many facial piercings just taking the edge off her cuteness, with a badge that proudly stated that her name was Laura and she would love to help him choose the right drink, the girl gave him a smile that almost looked genuine and rolled her eyes at the door.
"I know, right. Awful out there."
She paused, and he nodded his assent that, yes, the constant driving rain was awful. Grinning, this one real, she swept her left arm out towards the pastry counter and kitschy collection of mugs stacked against the back wall. "So, what can I get for you?"
His eyes flicked up to the board behind her head, read nothing on it. Didnt need to. His order wasnt complicated.
"Coffee. Nothing fancy, just black, one sugar." He hesitated, intentionally, followed the line of her arm with his eyes as he span slowly on his heel towards the cakes. The boy in the corner chose that second to say something hilarious, sending his girlfriend into peals of laughter that echoed oddly around the room. Glancing their way, he considered the cakes for another long second then turned square back to Laura.
"And everything in here looks good." The last word was purred, a low rumble that made her smile. And it was true. It all did. "What would you," he made a point to recheck her name badge, "Laura, recommend to me from the selection over there?" She opened her mouth to speak and he held up a hand, interrupting whatever it was she was about to say. "You know what, I love surprises. I'm going to take my seat. I'll have whatever you bring me."
The girl rolled her eyes at him, though she was smirking as she turned to make his coffee, moving with practiced efficiency. He took a seat at the table furthest from the door, back to the wall, and unfurled the paper. Looks like he'd beaten the Chariot here. He'd half expected the guy to be here when he'd arrived, had entertained the fact for half a second that maybe Mr Spec-ops might have been him, at least until the guy had spoken.
Ah well, he thought, flicking his eyes to the clock on the wall. Taking a deep breath, he lounged back in his chair and raised the paper, looking up every few seconds to check the street outside. With nothing to do but wait, might as well check what's going on in the local news.
With no other option, Strength flicked up his collar, turned, and broke into a run. Dodging between the few people still on the streets, attracting more than a few questioning looks, he sprinted for the nearest supermarket, two blocks out of the way, barreling through the doors in a spray of rainwater. Barely two minutes later and he was back outside, unfurling a cheap black umbrella, the days newspaper tucked under his arm.
In a way, the rain was a boon. Whatever it was they were doing tonight was obviously clandestine, and the rain would provide a modicum of cover. After all, who'd be mad enough to be out in this weather. Except people like, well, him, obviously. Allowing himself a thin grin, Strength checked his watch, nodded at the clock in satisfaction, then doubled his pace, examining each person he walked past. Barely one in ten even looked at him, and the ones that did didnt give him a second glance. That was the problem with people these days. No one paid any attention to the world around them.
The rest of the journey was relatively uneventful, though he did make it a point to stop twice and let the traffic, foot and vehicle, flow on. From his vantage point across the road, the little coffee shop, some local joint called, inexplicably, the Muffin Break, was almost empty. The lights turned red and he crossed quickly, dodging between two cars as they slowed. One of them was a cab, its on duty light glowing, and the corners of Strength's eyes crinkled in wry amusement as he pushed open the door.
He'd been right. It was almost empty. Automatically breaking the room into quadrants, he strode towards the counter. The young couple giggling to themselves in the corner hadnt taken their eyes off each other, the businessman in the rumpled suit sitting at the table across rolling his eyes at each cutesy noise they made. The only other customer was a middle aged guy, alone at his table, half eaten sandwich sitting in front of him. Strength met his eyes, and the man gave him a half nod, running one hand across his shaved head.
He knew, in that half second, that the other man had sized him up in one practiced glance, just as Strength had assessed him. Mid 30s, dressed exactly nondescript enough to attract no attention, military, or ex at least, from the way he held himself. To put it bluntly, an operator. Someone who could handle himself. The guy stood, rising lithe and easy, reaching into his jacket, and Strength tensed.
"Guess it's my turn to brave the elements, eh pal."
His voice echoed with wear. Of too much hard liquor and tobacco. Smiling, or at least showing his teeth, the guy pulled a cheap cigarette from inside his jacket and stuck it between his lips. Without another word, or even waiting for a reply, he sauntered past, so close their shoulders brushed against each other, and pushed open the door. Strength watched him go in the mirrors behind the counter, only turning his eyes to the barista behind the counter when the door had closed again completely. Petite, one too many facial piercings just taking the edge off her cuteness, with a badge that proudly stated that her name was Laura and she would love to help him choose the right drink, the girl gave him a smile that almost looked genuine and rolled her eyes at the door.
"I know, right. Awful out there."
She paused, and he nodded his assent that, yes, the constant driving rain was awful. Grinning, this one real, she swept her left arm out towards the pastry counter and kitschy collection of mugs stacked against the back wall. "So, what can I get for you?"
His eyes flicked up to the board behind her head, read nothing on it. Didnt need to. His order wasnt complicated.
"Coffee. Nothing fancy, just black, one sugar." He hesitated, intentionally, followed the line of her arm with his eyes as he span slowly on his heel towards the cakes. The boy in the corner chose that second to say something hilarious, sending his girlfriend into peals of laughter that echoed oddly around the room. Glancing their way, he considered the cakes for another long second then turned square back to Laura.
"And everything in here looks good." The last word was purred, a low rumble that made her smile. And it was true. It all did. "What would you," he made a point to recheck her name badge, "Laura, recommend to me from the selection over there?" She opened her mouth to speak and he held up a hand, interrupting whatever it was she was about to say. "You know what, I love surprises. I'm going to take my seat. I'll have whatever you bring me."
The girl rolled her eyes at him, though she was smirking as she turned to make his coffee, moving with practiced efficiency. He took a seat at the table furthest from the door, back to the wall, and unfurled the paper. Looks like he'd beaten the Chariot here. He'd half expected the guy to be here when he'd arrived, had entertained the fact for half a second that maybe Mr Spec-ops might have been him, at least until the guy had spoken.
Ah well, he thought, flicking his eyes to the clock on the wall. Taking a deep breath, he lounged back in his chair and raised the paper, looking up every few seconds to check the street outside. With nothing to do but wait, might as well check what's going on in the local news.
The setting changes from Throme to Little Maybelle
Karim, Masked Joker; Dullahan Library
“Took y’long enough, eh, Karim? Where’s the rest of the deck?” Karim picked a few cards from her deck at random: a Jack, Queen, King, and Ace (wow, what luck!) and threw them into the air. As they hit the ground, a man walked in, the only face-up card: Jack. “Damn it, is it just you two?!” Of course it was! The cards rarely lied, though circumstances did change from time to time... “for now I want you two to head on over to Lil’ Maybelle. Not the main district, but that shady little area behind that… that spot apart from the popular bit, behind that rental shop or whatever.” Ahaha! A shady part like that? Sure, Itex might go there, none ever populated the area. It was worth checking out anyone there. “And you know the drill – keep away from civilians.” Yes, mother. It wasn't like Amy always ranted on and on and on and on about... the Jack left, wind from his cape scattering the cards and flipping two of them in the process... Karim should be getting on her way as well. A car drove in as Karim left, probably a poor soul left to face Liesel's wrath... Ahahaha! Sadly, it wasn't worth getting caught up in the back-draft to stay and watch.
It was still raining. The parasol came up, and it twirled as Karim pranced through the back streets on the way to Lil' Maybelle. So much had happened, so little, but it was time to face Itex! Who could they be? Would they be excited at all to meet them? Hahaha, of course not. But fights were just boring, weren't they? This was... thievery, yes, guile, deception, trickery... magic. Would they see it coming? Not at all, but it would help to have more than just the two versus them, however many. Oh, they were there weren't they. Amy pushed her back to attention on the streets, to the mask she kept on her. Ah, masks! They were such fun! People never knowing who you were, always guessing, guessing, guessing... And who was this lovely mask? It seemed like only yesterday it was another... Was it?
Amara Calen; The Streets of Throme; November 21st, hours before
Amara walked out of the News From Throme offices, holding her umbrella and notepad as she walked through Throme. There was a meeting today, and a chance to confront Itex; Karim needed to be prepared. Amara shook her consciousness into awareness, making her keep watch for anyone interesting, pointing it out to her as needed. Masquerade needed a new target, and it would be stupid to let the enemy know Karim as herself from the get-go. Wrapping her coat around herself, Amara walked out toward Sagaro Mall, where people would still be walking even on miserable days like today. Karim kept a lookout and pointed toward one, a man walking briskly with a suit and briefcase, some businessman. Him? Karim gave assent. Whatever you want...
Amara walked up to the man, "Hello, could I have a few seconds of your time? I'm Amara Calen, from News From Throme. It's nice to meet you." She held out a hand which the man accepted and shook cautiously. "Umm... may I help you? I'm- I'm in a rush, you see? Business, you know, as usual?" "Oh, I'm terribly sorry to disturb you, but I'm conducting a survey for the papers; it won't take more than a moment of your time, and then we'll be on our separate ways again." The man sighed and pushed up his glasses, "Alright, but... only a few questions. I have an important meeting to go to, you know?" The conversation continued for not long after that, but habits didn't escape Amara's eyes. He shifted from foot to foot, answered questions evasively. He adjusted his tie, pushed his glasses up constantly, his eyes darted from here to there in conversation. He kept looking at his wrist for a watch that wasn't there. Whatever he was doing, he seemed nervous of it; the briefcase never left his hand for a moment. It looked heavy.
They parted, and Karim took over, following from above, making adjustments to the mask as needed...
Karim, Masquerade; Lil' Maybelle
Yes, Amy, no need to remind me... Ahaha! Hah. The mask went on, and Karim transformed, an Arthur Thorne standing there instead. The white suit was replaced by a darker one, a navy, dampened by the rain. His black umbrella (no longer the well-designed white parasol) did little to stop the rain hitting his legs or even the lower part of his suit. His glasses were taken off from time to time to be wiped clean then pushed back on and periodically pushed up again as they slid down the bridge of his nose. His brown briefcase by his side was wet and not getting any drier. He picked it up and began walking briskly through the backstreets of Maybelle. From time to time, he shifted his items in his hands: putting down the briefcase to wipe his glasses, moving it to the same hand as the umbrella, setting the umbrella aside quickly to dry his glasses using both hands (this got his already damp, dark brown, close-cropped hair even more wet).
The man paused in the alleys, looking for a signpost, any directions to get anywhere. "Drat. Umm... where was it. He said we were meeting... forgotten, as usual. Gosh darnit, write these things down sometime! Hmm... what was the name?" Arthur continued on his way through the backstreets of Lil' Maybelle, that bit behind the rental shop. He may have looked distracted, but he was ever on the lookout for potential meeting spots and strange characters in meeting...
The setting changes from Little Maybelle to Throme
Hannah Lister | Throme
It was a beautiful day, all clean air and cool fresh breeze. Even though the rain might have been wet and generally horrible, it was great for the plants. And, oh, how wonderful would it be? Delicate little buds would slowly poke through the earth and start greeting the sun, growing stronger with every passing day. And, then, at the end of their development, flowers would open and nearly paint the world with their aroma~
These thoughts made her feel slightly better when... a few seconds later, she stepped right in the middle of a puddle and ended up with dripping socks and shoes. Well, at least she wouldn’t have to clean them. For a while, at least.
With her newly dampened footwear, she continued walking onwards towards the meeting area,wincing with every step. Almost as though an afterthought, the girl checked the neon blue watch on her left wrist - ‘Oh, sorry Liesel! I really am! I didn’t mean to be late’ - and immediately shifted to an all-out run, ignoring the huge puddle that was growing in her shoes. Her watch beeped again, and a message popped up with a flash of light. ‘TRANSFORM.’
Ducking quickly into a side road, she skidded to a stop, breathing heavily all the while. She was sure that the alley had some redeeming qualities - like the fact that it was slightly drier than the main street - even despite the overwhelming stench. Then, stretching out one hand, she spoke with an overly bright, almost singsongy, tone. “Mirror, mirror on the wall~” A mask slowly faded into existence, all shiny gold and silver swirls. Prettiful.
She placed it on her face, wide blue eyes poking out of the holes almost comically, before...
These thoughts made her feel slightly better when... a few seconds later, she stepped right in the middle of a puddle and ended up with dripping socks and shoes. Well, at least she wouldn’t have to clean them. For a while, at least.
With her newly dampened footwear, she continued walking onwards towards the meeting area,
Ducking quickly into a side road, she skidded to a stop, breathing heavily all the while. She was sure that the alley had some redeeming qualities - like the fact that it was slightly drier than the main street - even despite the overwhelming stench. Then, stretching out one hand, she spoke with an overly bright, almost singsongy, tone. “Mirror, mirror on the wall~” A mask slowly faded into existence, all shiny gold and silver swirls. Prettiful.
She placed it on her face, wide blue eyes poking out of the holes almost comically, before...
Crow | Dullahan Library
“Reflect my death, show my fall,” murmured a voice quietly. And with that, magic finally took effect. Blond hair lightened, blood drained from rosy red cheeks, and in the place of a young mortal stood Crow.
The first thing Crow noticed was that it was raining. And that rain was wet. And cold. The second thing she noticed was that she didn’t like it. And that she was miserable. And cold.
More importantly, there were no bodies on the street. None of the living variety either, no matter how temporary that state was. What there was was an overabundance of liquid.
What was she doing? Right. That building with the bound paper and ink scribbles. Nothing a few little magical tricks couldn’t bring down to the ground. Wouldn’t take very long either. But no, that was not the point. The point was something else - the health-killing, smoking woman had summoned her. And other living bodies, but she was the only one who mattered.
The rest of them could not whistle up a spell even if their minds depended on it. And they were going to slip a blade between her ribs. Kill her, they would try. They were jealous of her magic, while they were still in the realm of the mundane. She was sure of that. That was why she was going to do the same thing to them first. And it would be a fast, painful maneuver. Serves them right for looking at her the wrong way. She could nearly hear their traitorous thoughts.
Crow strode down the middle of the sidewalk, eyes unfocused and unblinking. With hardly a sidewise glance, she turned into the driveway of the book-building, down into the depths of its dry basement. Other than the puddles that were there, of course. At least, it was warmer, and she was not quite as miserable. Her hair, normally voluminous, was now plastered to her thin face, which was also practically dripping with fluid.
“I do hope you’ll all forgive me for my lateness, as I was attending to rather…… delicate matters.” said a voice. Crow recognized the tone quite well. The moving cadaver was termed the King. No matter how much of an ass he was. Pretending that the royal bastard had not spoken (and he might as well not have), she stood in the center of the room, staring at the ginger destroyer of lungs.
Now that the one important actually-living magician was present (as in herself), the rest of them can tick off like robots. And do stuff. Because. Just because.
The first thing Crow noticed was that it was raining. And that rain was wet. And cold. The second thing she noticed was that she didn’t like it. And that she was miserable. And cold.
More importantly, there were no bodies on the street. None of the living variety either, no matter how temporary that state was. What there was was an overabundance of liquid.
What was she doing? Right. That building with the bound paper and ink scribbles. Nothing a few little magical tricks couldn’t bring down to the ground. Wouldn’t take very long either. But no, that was not the point. The point was something else - the health-killing, smoking woman had summoned her. And other living bodies, but she was the only one who mattered.
The rest of them could not whistle up a spell even if their minds depended on it. And they were going to slip a blade between her ribs. Kill her, they would try. They were jealous of her magic, while they were still in the realm of the mundane. She was sure of that. That was why she was going to do the same thing to them first. And it would be a fast, painful maneuver. Serves them right for looking at her the wrong way. She could nearly hear their traitorous thoughts.
Crow strode down the middle of the sidewalk, eyes unfocused and unblinking. With hardly a sidewise glance, she turned into the driveway of the book-building, down into the depths of its dry basement. Other than the puddles that were there, of course. At least, it was warmer, and she was not quite as miserable. Her hair, normally voluminous, was now plastered to her thin face, which was also practically dripping with fluid.
“I do hope you’ll all forgive me for my lateness, as I was attending to rather…… delicate matters.” said a voice. Crow recognized the tone quite well. The moving cadaver was termed the King. No matter how much of an ass he was. Pretending that the royal bastard had not spoken (and he might as well not have), she stood in the center of the room, staring at the ginger destroyer of lungs.
Now that the one important actually-living magician was present (as in herself), the rest of them can tick off like robots. And do stuff. Because. Just because.
The Chariot ; The Backstreets; Orion street corner
There was no Strength in the rain. For some reason, this absence, and obvious abscond to the interior of the coffee shop, made Chariot smirk. It seemed even the mighty had fallen to the weather. Pretending to hunch into his coat, he slipped easily under the eaves of the coffee shop door, loitering there a moment as another man passed him. Pulling the flames of his powers out, underneath the clothes, he dried himself off slightly, allowing the flames to be mostly dampened by the soaked clothing and wet atmosphere.
Shaking himself off like a wet dog, Chariot swooped into the shop. The coat sitting on his shoulders, although without arms in the sleeves, hung surprisingly stiffly for what it should have endured, and the hair was perhaps a little too dry, but only the close observer would notice the slightly off details.
Moving quietly, swiftly, up towards the counter, he pretended to completely ignore the current conversation between the server girl and the man whose mere presence seemed to single him out from the entire customer base. 'One cup coffee, black, no sugar, cream.'
The words were like an incision into the flow of casual talk, like a sergeant barking orders, except with less force and volume. 'The ride is tough out there.' The casual remark was as he turned away, moving towards an empty table at the back, glancing once over his shoulder with a slight smirk. He wondered if Strength got the small reference or not. At least he'd recognise the cold voice of the Chariot, for it hardly changed from voice chat to actual conversation.
- 47 posts here • Page 1 of 2 • 1, 2
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View All » Add Character » 34 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
Crow
"With that drink, you've just destroyed your liver some more. I need you healthy. Stay that way."
Axilious
The Jack Mask, master of the show
James Lyon
The Jack, jack of all trades, master of none
The Chariot
Fast as the Wind, Flaming like fire. Death to he who dareth to touch me.
Strength
Fate follows he who has the strongest will.
Brandon Clavell
I'm Brandon. So, what is it you do?
Liesel Moringmer
"My team. My orders. You don't have a choice in that matter."
Shannon Ba'rel
'Gee viz, time already? I was just getting my nap into full swing too... Well, whatever. Let's get this done.'
Elegant Harlequin
The Masked Joker
Trending
Kaden Jannsen
"Oh, sorry, you were there? Hmm. Hadn't realized. What do you want? I'm writing, so be quick."
Crow
"With that drink, you've just destroyed your liver some more. I need you healthy. Stay that way."
The Chariot
Fast as the Wind, Flaming like fire. Death to he who dareth to touch me.
James Lyon
The Jack, jack of all trades, master of none
Axilious
The Jack Mask, master of the show
Deus ex Kaos 'Dek'
The Calamitous Tower
Amara Calen
"Simmer down. We have a job to do."
Aki Evedane
"Why risk something when there is no guarantee that you'll succeed? You'll just end up worse than you already are."
The Wheel of Fortune
"Eh, you're boring... go meet up with your little group and put on a show for my amusement..."
Elegant Harlequin
The Masked Joker
Most Followed
Liesel Moringmer
"My team. My orders. You don't have a choice in that matter."
Kaden Jannsen
"Oh, sorry, you were there? Hmm. Hadn't realized. What do you want? I'm writing, so be quick."
Strength
Fate follows he who has the strongest will.
Elegant Harlequin
The Masked Joker
James Lyon
The Jack, jack of all trades, master of none
The Chariot
Fast as the Wind, Flaming like fire. Death to he who dareth to touch me.
Amara Calen
"Simmer down. We have a job to do."
The Wheel of Fortune
"Eh, you're boring... go meet up with your little group and put on a show for my amusement..."
Shannon Ba'rel
'Gee viz, time already? I was just getting my nap into full swing too... Well, whatever. Let's get this done.'
View All » Places
2 posts · 6 characters present · last post 2014-01-22 01:15:25 »
Throme ↪ Sagaro Mall Owner: RolePlayGateway
Sagaro Mall - a multilstoried dream building of wonders and everything else you can think of
3 posts · 3 characters present · last post 2013-07-29 04:32:56 »
Throme ↪ Cherry Grove Park Owner: RolePlayGateway
Cherry Grove Park - a peaceful site with a fountain square
6 posts · 2 characters present · last post 2013-07-15 12:09:37 »
Throme ↪ Little Maybelle Owner: RolePlayGateway
Little Maybelle - more than just a line of shops... the shopping district in all its glory
20 posts · 13 characters present · last post 2013-05-02 13:21:50 »
Throme - a city of urban wonders
10 posts · 2 characters present · last post 2013-04-30 12:05:09 »
Throme ↪ Liron River Pier Owner: RolePlayGateway
Liron River Pier - The largest pier on Liron River
2 posts · 2 characters present · last post 2013-02-05 03:25:00 »
Throme ↪ Backstreets of Throme Owner: RolePlayGateway
Backstreets of Throme
3 posts · 0 characters present · last post 2013-01-29 13:53:32 »
Throme ↪ Dullahan Library Owner: RolePlayGateway
The Library - Officially the Branch Library of the Dullahan Foundation
1 posts · 2 characters present · last post 2012-11-23 09:41:18 »
Throme ↪ Academy Square Owner: RolePlayGateway
Academy Square - fostering the best and the brightest
0 posts · 1 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
Little Maybelle ↪ Brio Owner: RolePlayGateway
Brio - the best café of the era
0 posts · 2 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
Throme ↪ The Museum of Throme Art and History Owner: RolePlayGateway
MTAH - art galleries and historical exhibits
0 posts · 1 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
City Hall - the heart that keeps the city moving
0 posts · 0 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
Throme ↪ Alcivosity Science and Research Laboratories Owner: RolePlayGateway
Alcivosity Science and Research Laboratories
0 posts · 0 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
Throme ↪ Financial District Owner: RolePlayGateway
Financial District of Throme
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