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Miles Scarlett

The Dashing Dead.

0 · 190 views · located in Verinotte Hall

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Gasmask

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Traveling drop-dead gorgeous guitarist.

So begins...

Miles Scarlett's Story

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#, as written by Gasmask
Miles Scarlett looked up, sniffing as quietly as he could as he turned around and raised both of his eyebrows. The 'accidental' victim as he raised to his feet as he pushed the stool back into place next to Sabine herself. He lowered a hand towards the fallen paparazzi and attempted to help him up. "I'll pay for that, I've got some spare change..." Miles said calmly, pulling a chained wallet out of his pocket and withdrawing a grand, a bloody grand in 'spare change'.

He then moved to whisper in the mans ear. "I am going to pretend to be a psychotic individual, would you please act with me?" He asked, his voice as serious as the cold money in his held out hand.

The 'victim' moved his head to the side to wink with the corner of his eye towards Sabine, hoping she'd catch his drift.

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Miles Scarlett clapped his hands as he held up a finger at Shinzui.

"A second my friend."

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Miles Scarlett grabbed a package of guitar string as he started to tie them around the legs of each reporter. "If you struggle, I'll be taking more than your dignity." he allowed himself a grin towards them, only if it did seem to freak them more at his scarred visage. "Hey, hey. Come on now." He said as he finished the last knot around the fallen body of a photographer.

"Come on now, I've got a street pole that requires your body-warmth." He taunted coolly as he tried to march them out the door and then eventually around a street pole.

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Miles Scarlett had to laugh at the show of wit by Shinzui. "My friend, if I had a dollar every-time that someone has shown that sort of wit, well, I'd have a dollar." Miles said with a grin before holding out his hand in a peculiar reverse-peace-sign-hand-shake-thing. "I like your cranium, you've got the kind of wit that deserves its own talk-show, not unlike the shit they show now." Miles replied, giving the reporters a smug grin.

"Just make sure you get our physical descriptions right? Okay? Cool with you? Sweet." Miles shouted behind him.

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Miles Scarlett held up a lanky arm with an equally rude gesture atop it behind him. "Sue me then!" He called, wagging the finger around before returning it to his side. "We dealt with your problems, lady of tears." He called towards Sabine with a heavy hint of the 'cheer up' tone in his voice. "There is not a reason for you to be sooking over what? The dignity of a few married guys? Christ! Oh shouldn't say that word..."

He looked towards Shinzui with a shrug, the type of that shrug that said; "I could use s- oh nevermind." Miles shook his head and stepped towards Sabine, just standing behind her.

"Not a trace of denial in my mind, I couldn't believe my head, oh yeah, What's the use of trying? All you get is pain, what I want is sunshine, to bad all I got is rain, then I saw her face." He sung in a jazz and highly skilled pitch as he leaned on his elbow and tried to poke the hair out of his face before giving up and offering a handkerchief.

"What? You don't like my songs?"

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Miles Scarlett 's writer forgot to add; "I knew they made some people become suicidal, but this is just terrible, that won't do, do I have to like... ...Get on a microphone and everything?"

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Miles Scarlett raised an eyebrow as he placed his fingers upon his cheek, rubbing his hand. "So I just wasted a grand, some guitar string, my dignity, probably going to get sued by some guy with a bigger camera than crotch and... I don't even get to make friends with my childhood idol?"

He looked back towards Shinzui, grinning and giving him a thumbs-up. "Camera-Sushi! Great idea, totally going to make that into a song, I can imagine it now." He pitched as he turned back towards Sabine.

"Okay. I'll make you a deal. If I can't cheer you up within the next thirty minutes... I won't... I'm terrible at this vague deal I won't follow type of thing, so I'm just going to drop it there and call you a terrible sook."

"Stop being a sook."

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Miles Scarlett casually raised an eyebrow. "Okay. You seem to be the type that likes this sort of thing, but how about a game of Russian roulette? Winner gets to see why people avoid me, oh and how you think YOU have it bad, you try being the lead singer where the women regard you as a freak, the men won't even share a beer with you and when you try to sleep with someone, they suddenly think that I'm a god damn zombie."

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Miles Scarlett reached his own point of annoyance too. "Wow, way to treat a dead guy, miss, there goes my sense of dignity and pride about being a ladies man." He replied with a sarcastic tone. "You go and make me seem like the bad guy with your angst and bullshit that goes in your pretty head, well news for you, lady."

He seized her by the shoulders and attempted to force her to look upon his scarred face.

"Suck it up bitch, I was murdered, you've just got Paparazzi and good lucks, I've got the fucking grim reaper to deal with."

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Miles Scarlett threw Sabine to the ground and held down a finger. "You're crying for help, look at this shit, drinking away your braincells, You're the only one your fooling, I think I've had enough of your fucking presence, last time I help a stranger out of the goodness that remains in my un-beating heart. You walk out of this door instead of socializing like a normal fucking being like you seem to be angst-ing about, you're doing nothing but being a dead babe." He flung a pointed finger towards the wine on the counter.

"Fucking listen for the first time in your life to the guy downstairs who has lived in the streets for once. We can't help you if you don't..." He paused to take a deep breath.

"Suck it, the fuck up."

He flung his hand towards Shinzui. "You and me have something in common, we have respect. Does she?"

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Miles Scarlett held out his hand that was covered in stitches. "If you're going to do wrong, you should do it right. I tried to cheer her up, she winged and swore at me, plus we did not just try and help her out with those photographers? It's not out of malice or spite either, I simply feel that she should learn to be a proper woman instead of some frail little girl with the body that most men only lust after." He replied, tilting his head back and forwards to set it back into place after the rant.

"But I agree, I was being rather mean." He replied, letting out a string of incoherent swears in his head.

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Miles Scarlett scoffed quietly. "This is just a verbal punishment, it happens all the time." He turned around and slipped a thick black ticket from his trouser-pocket and lowered himself to squat beside her. "You have to understand that this was not done in hate, this is just your brain saying that to help you cope." He put the ticket into a pocket of hers he could find.

"Don't throw it away, I want to show you something and I want you to come to the Queens Ramshackle Castle by nine, sharp, tomorrow. I'm not a bad man either, I have no doubt you can send a hit-man after me anyway." Miles said down to her, pity in his voice.

Miles then got up and walked out the door and out of sight and probably mind.

The ticket was of course, a very fine one to the debut of Mile's band itself to the higher ups.

The setting changes from gambits-bar to The Wastelands

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Miles Scarlett picked up a nearby pair of binoculars, one needed to have them after the glassing of the other-side of the planet. Miles grinned, exposing his larger and rounded canines as he picked up a flag with a crudely drawn Gadget symbol on it with a red backing as he waved it in the air. "Oi! Tora!" He shouted, gripping a nearby pipe and lead bar ladder and sliding down it as his steel-capped boots thudded into the orange dirt beneath his feet.

He threw the flag into a window on the bottom floor. "What's up! Why you 'starin?"

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"Nope, haven't asked yet, but she plays pretty well." Miles said as he stood up fully to avoid her fist that tried to rub on his stripling hair. "Uh... Std's? Man, I think you're too young for that crap." Miles said with a raised eyebrow and a deep chuckle as he vaulted onto the backseat and slipped his hands across her waist. "There are a couple of beds in the tower too, I think you have to handle all those creepy metal people first though..." Miles added into her ear as he slipped on his rusty goggles.

"I could use a sandwich too."

The setting changes from the-wastelands to Gambit's Bar

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Post-Order. Me, mars, Moon.

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Miles Scarlett shrugged, poking out his blue tongue. "I like the bitter stuff. What can I say? It's like I'm feeding again." The Dhampir replied, as the Vampire had dumped the vampire way of life a few months ago for the sake of people around him, that was a good thing about being a Dhampir, there wasn't the constant need to feed it was just the highs it gave you.

Ultimate predator, his behind.

"You know, that's probably a deal-breaker." He muttered, looking towards the pretzels disappearing within the hair.

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Miles Scarlett slid a bandage across the counter. "You should... I dunno... give it some more gum? I should buy an infinite gumball or some shit." The Dhampir replied, leaning on the counter and taking a few more sips. Miles adjusted his shirt, trying to rid of it the wrinkles upon his shoulders before starting to idly spin himself on the stool to pass the time.

"What happens if you don't brush your teeth?"

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Miles Scarlett couldn't eat anything either. "I can't eat things either, you know those stories about vampries only eating naughty things like uh... Blood, dark chocolate and all that good stuff? It's true, if I ate that, I'd probably scream and roll around, screaming more. Salt hurts me too, so... you know, I'll pass." Miles said, pushing the bowl back.

"You should try scrunchies."

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Miles Scarlett shook his head, he was used to Fei which meant he was doubly used to everything else that pertained to whining. "Consider me unphased, people tell me I am an excellent listener despite the lack of... Ears." The Manaborn replied, pointing out his lack of vital organs and other things now that it mentioned it. "Why is his name Arrow yet your name Oriel... Does he know that name isn't very special when there are lietrally dozens of fletchers who can also make son of bows?"

Oh how that would infuriate Arrow, this writer betted.

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Miles Scarlett stared for a few more minutes before jolting upwards suddenly, bumping his head against one of the racks above him. "Hey! You knew I was doing that! That's... That's bloody tricky of you that is!" The Dhampir replied, storming off into the back to re-write or find the lost and holy lyrics of angst-songs from heaven, he of course would probably be back within the hour.

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Miles Scarlett would also note it was one of Gambit's visiting bands. So pay attention while you can!

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Miles Scarlett had used his foot to fetch the microphone flicked away by Daemon... He was that good.

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Miles Scarlett stumbled downstairs holding his head and a number of stitches poking out from his belt line, a slow blood-drip drooping from his lips and clean fangs, someone had had a relapse apparently. "Jesus on a pogo-stick, where have I been?" The almost dizzy looking Dhampir shouted at Tatum. "Oh god, where is my guitar, oh god, how long have I been gone? How many - nevermind, just..."

Miles slumped into a chair next to TwoTongue. "Can I like... borrow five dollars?"

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Miles Scarlett blinked a few times, rubbing his eyes. "Who said I killed anybody?!" Miles said defensively, then licking his lips and grumbling under his breath. "I've been gone for two months and you can only say; "Who did you kill, Miles?"" Miles replied, mocking her accent while taking the five dollars passing it to a bartender and getting a glass of prime whiskey and following Tate's example of drinking early.

"I think I killed one of our groupies...or you know... all of them? What was I thinking? King size beds do not equal fun with other people, I think I went a little crazy and you know... what do you call that word where you make a big mistake and get addicted to something again? Rel... laps? Lapsres? Relapse!" Miles said before pouring some of the whiskey down his throat.

"My stomach is full of butterflies, and I'm getting the tingles, I'm so fucking confused." Miles said, looking at Tate with a confused expression. "Your hair still freaks me the fuck out."

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"Oh... But, I don't like killing our groupies, or anyone, why did my dad have to screw a vampire, I mean what type of logic did my dad have? I have to visit him again sometime, maybe introduce you to him, but I swear, please slap him if you tries to flirt with you, I don't need a sister or brother, god no, not saying you would you know, do the dirty with him but - sorry rambling." Miles stopped himself, flicking some of the bloodied locks of his hair the right way scruffy.

Miles wiped his chin, taking another gulp of Whiskey. "Oh thanks, and I don't like vacations, they freak me out, what if somebody tries to stake me?"