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The Dead Set

Marionette-like people, or.. Perhaps people-like Marionettes.

0 · 1,748 views · located in Wing City Gardens (South)

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

Description

People made out of other things, false things. People go missing, then come back different, blank stares replace their once lively gazes, and their flesh, once warm and blushed, becomes pale and cold like porcelain. Though this is easily enough ignored.. Or hidden. Many prominent government and Military officials show signs of The set, if only a little bit.

The Rich, The Poor, The Law-Abiding, The Criminal.

All are welcome to complete the set.


Scarlet 'Bloody Dame' Jalleppa- The Crimson Clad Singer of The Tin-Pan McCoy, a party boat on Ol' Muddy. Scarlet is a Sultry jack of both trades, being a Soprano and Alto, as well as a charmer and.. A frequent user of 1920's Slang. Went missing April 5th 1925, reappeared October 16th, better than ever, but paler than ever, and cold.

Monty 'Big Six' Skelton- A zoot suited, pencil mustached, sharp sideburned, fedora wearing smuggler with a fancy for the M1911's. Thin, tall, but well known for being a dead-eye with his .45's, his name is 'Big Six' because of his strong-arming tactics in his bootlegging operations. You needed something smuggled anywhere you'd ask Skelton. Went missing June 17th 1925, reappeared November 29th, pale and cold.

Ilsa 'Le Loup' Krueger- The German, blonde haired, blue eyed 'Aryan' woman with a voluptuous frame wrapped in a trench coat of strong smelling black leather, leather gloves, a long black skirt, black boots and a black silk scarf. Nicknamed 'Le Loup' for various ramblings of countless mad, institutionalized French soldiers that had escaped her on the field during WW2, never ceasing to scream 'Le loup, le loup! Le femme de diable nous hante!'. Her canines are slightly sharper than normal women, and on full moons her eyes shift from blue to yellow. Went missing May 6th 1945, reappeared May 8th 1945, pale and cold.

Jack 'Jill' Nocta- What all crossdressers aspire to be, 'Jill' was born a feminine boy and he grew into a feminine man..-woman...thing, With a woman's delicate features on his face and narrow shoulders, with the right clothing he'd look like a flat-chested girl. But despite his fantasies Jill wears circular-apertured eye glasses, a white dress shirt tucked into his pants, a black waist-coat, a black leather belt with a golden buckle, black dress-pants, black socks and black leather dress shoes. Occasionally white gloves will cover his hands. Nocta's hair is black, wavy and long, reaching his shoulders before ending. His eyes are dark blue.

When he was growing, his adoptive parents believed that a feminine boy of his kind would face many "Sinful Temptations" and packed him up at Age 15, sending him to a Templar Monastery overlooking the Solinus Sea. Though raised by his parents and the Templars as a devout man of god, Jack was a logical boy and doubted the almighty's existence.. But after the events that transpired in the monastery it was hard no to believe in the darker beasts from the Templar's tales. Jack was practically a maid for the Monks and Templars, instructed to clean all unlocked chambers in the main building (Jack wondered why the almighty wouldn't just clean his 'own manuscripts'). The boy did as instructed, cleaning all the chambers, until one. The door was slightly cracked open and a feeling of dread came over him by even standing near it.. But if he didn't clean them all the Templars would beat him for his insolence..so.. He dared to enter. Inside only a few dark smudges remained, with the smell of burnt robes lingering. Before Jack could retreat he had stepped one foot inside of a sealing circle and quickly shielding his eye with his left arm and drawing back with the right half of his body, was half possessed. Jack's left arm, eye and leg are under demonic control, which, with quick acting from the merciful High-Chanter, were sealed with similar tattoo symbols than those on the ground within the chamber. One on his forearm, one on his shin and one under his left eye. Under huge amounts of stress, pain or under the effect of unholy magic, the binds are broken and the demonic ichor within him triggers a blood-lust and allows for the manipulation of unholy auras, vice versa, the seals placed by the Templars calms Jill and allows him to use Holy chants to dispel darkness.

After this event Jack was kept behind bars for years, under observation from Priests and Templars to evaluate the seal's dispelling power.

Jack Never went missing and.. He was always a rather cold and pale child.

So begins...

The Dead Set's Story

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#, as written by Rooster
Queen Yawned, watching from the shadows with a blank expression on her face. It looked as if Queenie was having a case of the Mondays, her medium-length pigmentless hair drooping to the sides of her head. Her thin almost skeletal body leaned on a support pillar, an idle hand sticking it's pinky in her ear and moving itself in a twisting motion, despite her inability to produce earwax she seemed to have a residing biological memory effecting her senses. Scouting was drab, not enough corpses.. Pretty corpses that couldn't tell her no when she wanted to play with them..And touch them. Her gray tongue licked her pale, smooth lips as she thought about corpses, and her cat-suit clad thighs rubbed against each other as she got a craving for one.

With a silent, loose stride, The Piece selected a lone female sitting far off from the rest of the bar-goers, and with a quick snatch of a needle from her belt the Queen jammed it into the former human, now corpse. She dropped to her knees and hugged the carrion from behind, rubbing her pale face against the crimson life-essence that leaked from the fresh, pinpoint wound. The Queen finally rested her head on the woman's shoulder and stared at the fight, now feeling a little better that she had some company.

With a sickening snap the queen brought the woman's head facing her. "So.. What's your name, hun?" She placed the corpse's lips to her ear and nodded. "That's a beautiful name.. I could just kiss you now.." The Queen blinked and clamped a hand over the dead thing's mouth. "Oh! Such dirty words.. And we just met.. Well.. If you insist.." And there the queen was, locking lips with the woman's dead body, head snapped backwards, neck flowing with blood.

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#, as written by Rooster
The Queen Yawned, watching from the shadows with a blank expression on her face. It looked as if Queenie was having a case of the Mondays, her medium-length pigmentless hair drooping to the sides of her head. Her thin almost skeletal body leaned on a support pillar, an idle hand sticking it's pinky in her ear and moving itself in a twisting motion, despite her inability to produce earwax she seemed to have a residing biological memory effecting her senses. Scouting was drab, not enough corpses.. Pretty corpses that couldn't tell her no when she wanted to play with them..And touch them. Her gray tongue licked her pale, smooth lips as she thought about corpses, and her cat-suit clad thighs rubbed against each other as she got a craving for one.

With a silent, loose stride, The Piece selected a lone female sitting far off from the rest of the bar-goers, and with a quick snatch of a needle from her belt the Queen jammed it into the former human, now corpse. She dropped to her knees and hugged the carrion from behind, rubbing her pale face against the crimson life-essence that leaked from the fresh, pinpoint wound. The Queen finally rested her head on the woman's shoulder and stared at the fight, now feeling a little better that she had some company.

With a sickening snap the queen brought the woman's head facing her. "So.. What's your name, hun?" She placed the corpse's lips to her ear and nodded. "That's a beautiful name.. I could just kiss you now.." The Queen blinked and clamped a hand over the dead thing's mouth. "Oh! Such dirty words.. And we just met.. Well.. If you insist.." And there the queen was, on her knees locking lips with the woman's dead body, head snapped backwards, neck flowing with blood, making loud slurping noises.

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Queenie snapped the woman's head forward, albeit the opposite way it had been wrenched in to begin with. Her big, glimmering grey eyes stared out into the bar as she held the corpse by the chest, peering out from behind it like a child. "What do you think they're talking about? .. What? No! Of course I wouldn't ever leave you. That's just silly, just because I.. Look over at the others! Of course I love you!" She pressed her face against the woman corpse's again, sighing.

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The Queen lifts the corpse as she stands, almost effortlessly, in a bridal hold. Her cheek pressed against it's as she walks to the center of the bar, humming a cheery tune despite her right cheek being splattered in blood..And her carrying a dead woman. She turns to the nearest person, Amy Shubeyinu, and speaks. "Won't she make a beautiful bride?" The Queen asks the woman, gesturing to the corpse she held.

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The Queen blinked at the girl's physical expressions, her head tilting as she pressed the corpse's lips to her ear. "What's that?.. Hm.. She does seem a bit wary about us, I wonder why? We're just two women in love. I suppose society will never understand." The almost fully insane necrophiliac said, nodding her head in a sagely, corrupted way.

Her pigmentless eyes stare into Amy's and she smiles. "Dead? Did someone die? How horrible, eh love?" She spoke to the corpse again.

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The Queen whipped around and stared at Parson, giggling giddily before dropping the corpse and swooning. "Well, she says she wants to get married, but we only met what seems like so long ago..." A color rushed to her cheeks like a light blue, the color of the formaldehyde in her body, it seemed. With a blink she looks down at her fallen 'bride' "Oh, no! Someone call a doctor! She seems to have fainted."

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The Queen blinked and looked over at the boy, her white eyebrows raising. With a bit of shock in her eyes she places her two fingers to the woman's neck. "Really? That'd be odd, I severed her brain stem at least twenty minutes ago. It would be a miracle." Queenie detected to pulse and smiled, nodding. "No miracles today, it seems. Oh dear.." The corpse was making a mess of the ground with it's seeping fluids of mixed assortments, the blood running off of Queen's catsuit easily, not leaving a stain.

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Stood and lifted the Corpse, humming again. Her attitude didn't seem to change, despite admitting the thing was dead that she carried. The shell of a now deceased, brown haired woman in a black turtle-neck, tan cargo-pants, wooden sandals and glasses, carried by the lanky, skeleton thin, pigmentless Queen who smelled strongly of formaldehyde. She cuddled the carrion closely as the sound of her lullaby drifted to those near. The Dead Set's Queen sat at a table with the corpse on her lap, still leaking crimson out of her upper neck, it started to stiffen, Rigor mortis starting to take effect. "Uh oh.. It's starting to break. I'll have to get another plaything." She eyed the patrons of the bar.

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Queenie set the corpse she had held in the seat next to her, sighing. "It's no fun after they get cold. Then you have nothing to snuggle up next to and whisper sweet nothings all nigh to. They stop listening after they go cold..." And absentminded finger tapped the corpse's forehead, Queen hummed a tune and scratched the back of her head. "Too many living people, not enough dead.. No one to talk to.."

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Bishop cleared his voice, now staring at Queen from a few tables away. A long, drawn out sigh exits the French-accented man with the Bishop symbol brand below his enhanced eye. A large rail-gun rested on his back, a book in his hands and his rump in a seat, leaned back. He sat with a Knight, who just sat, content. Finally Bishop spoke. "Y'know, she gives a bad name to all of us." His accent rang out, his white eyebrow lifting. The Knight shrugged and grunted, Bishop sighed again and flipped a page on his book. "It makes me wonder how many she's killed to sleep with the corpses all night. Her barracks always smell like blood-iron. It's disgusting." The French corpse rolled it's eyes.

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Bishop blinks his blinkable eye at Malcom Barrett and nudges Knight, who elbowed him back roughly. Rubbing his arm, Bishop nods his head in the Agent's Direction. "Well god damn. Someone who looks like a normal human for once." Bishop spoke, Knight nodded with a deep laugh.

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"Ow, fuck." Bishop said rather loudly as a toothpick coated in cinnamon stabbed into the side of his mouth, burning almost instantly. He rubbed his tongue against the stabbed spot in his mouth and when the burning spread to it he scraped his teeth over the burning portion, grumbling. The Knight just observed the bar, ever still, it's Vibro-Claymore strapped to it's back securely.

Meanwhile, the Queen sat a few tables away, snuggled up to a corpse creepily, it's blood dripping down her pale white cheek. She hummed a low tune and ran her gaunt fingers through the carrion's hair, eyes closing slowly. Bishop shook his head and stuck his tongue out, consequently rubbing against the cinnamon toothpick again. "Ow! Fuuuck.."

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Bishop spit the Toothpick onto the ground and grumbled, offering one out of a tube to Knight. The tall, armored man held out a dismissive hand and shook his head no. Bishop shrugged and looked back at Queen, who was now in the process of heavy petting the corpse. He sighed and let himself speak. "He'll want us back by twelve if we have no objective, you know." The Sniper reminded the Knight, who nodded and crossed his armored arms. "I know you told her last time, but couldn't you just once more for me, friend?" Asked Bishop, but the Knight turned it's head away in defiance. ".. Friends my arse." The soldier rose from his seat and tucked his red covered book and cinnamon toothpicks into his pack, swinging it over his shoulder and walking towards Queen.

"..We've got to go, Queen." Bishop stated, with a monotone voice. "But.. Can I..?" The Queen motioned to the Corpse. "You.. Better now, It's starting to smell already. Plus it's cold. If we hurry now you can take one of those late night joggers back with us.." With a happy giggle Queen hopped to her feet and tossed the Corpse in a random direction, Bishop sighed and Knight joined them, towering above the normal sized soldiers at a tall seven foot elven inches.

They all turned, facing the door, and exited at their own gait, into the night.

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Queen was sitting above the doorway into Gambit's Bar, bandages wrapped around her head, specifically covering her left eye. A light blue stain on the outside of the rough wrapping material. She had been playing with a female's corpse she had mangled, it's blood splattered on her right cheek. But when the smoking woman and the skeletonw arriors busted into the tavern she dropped the carrion, right at Avia L'arie, as she was intrigued and distracted by the new dead things...

But Queen was quickly uninterested. "Too.. Cold.. Not enough warm blood for me.." A strained but sultry voiced echoed from the space near the ceiling.

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Queen stared back at Claw Moonbeam with a half-dead, half-curious attitude. Her head tilted slightly, a smirk upon her face, but arms limp and straight, jaw length, pigmentless hair hanging dully at the sides of her face. No color in it either, save for the drying blood on her cheek. "I wonder why it's looking at me.. It's so odd, living things.. Judging.. Thinking.."

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Queen Did not know what to make of a Psychic link, she had no protection against it, nor weakness due to her madness. In fact, she hadn't ever experienced one before. Queen just spoke as if the man was right next to her, assuming he could hear what she was saying. "What am I? I'm the Queen of the Set." A gaunt finger wiped the blood from her cheek and pressed the finger to her tongue. Mm.."

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Queen Jolted her head to the side sharply, a sickening crack audible from her neck. She didn't understand the question. She said what she was. She was the Queen of the Set. She scoffs. "How dare you ask a Lady to repeat herself, you living, insensitive oaf.."

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Queen rolled her eyes.. Eye. "Living, Undead, The Queen cares not. You speak and have the manners of a spoiled living thing. Not anything like the calm nocturne of the dead." Her blank face shifted to a scowl and a small muscle above and to the left of her left nostril twitched impatiently.

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Queen stuck her tongue out in disgust at the man's notion. She hated those similar to the Undead, despite being one herself. Why did they break the chains of death and come squealing back to life like infants.. And just as disgustingly immature. Feeling another biotic lingering her dead gaze turned to Kaleb, and her expression fell back into it's blank, seemingly uncaring mode.

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Queen remained crouched above the door, rested on a rafter, though the snake man's infrared sensing would pick up nothing from her, being just a reanimated corpse pumped full of drugs. Her arms hung more loosely and the gaunt fingertips, covered by the gloves of her all purpose cat-suit, let themselves be illuminated by an electric lantern. "I lost my plaything.. Where did it go?" The Queen referred to the corpse she had created and played with, though she lost interest after they got cold.. Queen liked the warmth.. And the Silent whisperings.