Setting
Default Location for Variant
Minimap
northwest |
north |
northeast |
west |
You are here. |
east |
southwest |
south |
southeast |
Rune is a part of 
Variant.
10 Characters Here
Wilson "005" [8] "You have no idea what I have seen! You could never understand the horrors of a mutant war!"
Anya Tavora [8] "I'm the angel of anarchy, bitch. Go on and try me."
Christopher King [7] "I don't want to disappoint the people whose lives are in my hands."
Enid Tsianina [7] "They say hell is a place you go to after death, but we, artificials, have already seen it in the living."
Tristan Bellum [5] "Cavalry's here.....*Exhales Smoke*."
Pandora Inese [5] "The horrors of the war are only horrors if that's how you view them."
Neptune Taylor [5] "In order to fight monsters we have to abandon our humanity."
Darren [3] "I am perfect as someone else."
Summanus A. [2] With my fists I will touch your heart
Sin Amaterasu [2] "I am not a human, nor am I a monster. I am simply me."
Start Character Here »
The world is a cruel place, but it is also very beautiful.
As Neptune watched the sunset on her last patrol of the day she made a wish; that soon she would be able to get out of this awful job and work with her friends in the Lower Ring. Was it selfish to complain about having to work in the Upper Ring while other Variants were homeless or being put down? Most likely, however, the woman she worked for owned her and it wasn't exactly an easy thing to simply quit her position; especially because she worked for her creator. A woman that went by the name of Inori Trask; she not only had a bottle of the euthanasia serum labeled with Neptune's ID number, but she promised that as long as Neptune continued working for her, no harm would come to her sister; Athena.
The only way out of this unwilling labor was if Trask died, but that wasn't going to happen anytime soon as the young scientist was as spirited as ever. Neptune sighed as her watch beeped, signaling the end of the days shift and began heading towards her room on the eighth floor. After she showered and changed the female would go visit her boyfriend in the Lower Ring, Tristan Bellum. Neptune stripped herself of her tight jumpsuit, leaving her gear on the dresser and turning the water on full blast. She washed away the day's dirt and grime quickly, scrubbing herself down in an effort to look clean.
No makeup, Neptune never wore makeup as she believed that it was something only a whore needed. The female rifled through her drawers, picking through her belongings in an attempt to find clothes that weren't wrinkled or needed to be washed; she really should consider buying a laundry basket. Neptune finally decided on a silk purple button down and a black skater cut skirt that she tucked the shirt into. She danced around the room trying to squeeze her long legs into her only pair of black tights and for finishing touches grabbed her heels, peep toes with with little black bows.
It was funny how she hated boys and didn't mind Tristan, in fact, Neptune rather liked dressing up for him. The thought of how she could wear revealing clothing and he would not only make eye contact, but never cared about what she looked like excited her. Was it stupid? Probably, but to each his own.
It was seven o'clock when Neptune opened her window and climbed onto the edge, activating her Variation. Her wings spiraled out of her back and turned into what looked like crystal butterfly pinions. She pushed off the ledge and headed towards the Skybridge, watching as the rich pedestrians below went about their ugly lives. Within fifteen minutes Neptune was in the Lower Ring and on her way to Third Tier. It wasn't a far walk from the Bridge to the club, the problem was that the route was through one of the worst sectors; thankfully, however Neptune gave off a vibe that kept the bums at bay; other Variant weren't always so lucky though. She had heard of females being kidnapped and violated, males taken and exploited for their bodies.
"Almost there," she mumbled, turning the corner when a hand suddenly grabbed her shoulder and snapped her around. Instantly Neptune was in fight mode, but it was just a bum panning for money. Neptune shrugged and reached into her purse, but as she did so he attempted to snatch it from her. Instantly her fist went up and smashed the guy right in the face, two yellow and brown teeth flying from his disgusting mouth and landing on the ground. Before the bum could react Neptune kicked him in the side; she would have done much worse but someone grabbed her from behind to stop her.
"I'll take it from here," it was a gentle voice, a calming presence. Slowly she came off of the high that came with fighting and straightened herself. Neptune picked up the small wrapped box that had fallen from her bag when the bum had grabbed it and stuffed it back inside. She turned to see Chris, one of the police officers that had taken a government provided job. He was handcuffing the hobo, calling for a car to take the guy in. "Thanks," Neptune mumbled awkwardly and continued on her way.
She entered the bar/club and looked around for Tristan who was behind the bar. It wasn't so busy now, but Neptune knew that later this place would be packed. "I got you something," she said, sitting on one of the bar stools and pulling out the little wrapped package. It was a new bow tie since his was a bit worn at the edges and threads were beginning to come loose.
The sun bore hard down on the flower bead, the petals spread out like solar panels soaking up as much light as possible as Summanus cared for them. He was planting some new flowers along the road in an attempt to brighten up the dismal road. He was in the lower ring, and the rows of bright colored petals and lush green leaves and stems were quite out of place along the dull grey and brown surroundings and the street filled with litter and mud. That was how it always was. his job was to keep the grass alive and clean, but Summanus always took gardening a step beyond. Wherever he went, his area always stood out from their surroundings. He worked steadily and patiently, enjoying the sound of his spade dig out areas to place the new flowers he was relocating from another section of the lower ring where the flowers he planted were too dense. As he placed them, he spoke softly to each one, "Here is your new home, I promise that you will like it. I will come here each week to take care of you. It is your job to brighten these streets, and lift the spirits of anyone who sees you." He gently patted the tops and gave each one a bit of water.
"See, there he is." a voice sounded from behind him. "They say that he cares more about his precious flowers than he does real people, I heard that he even talks to them!" Summanus ignored the voices, and continued his work.
"Ignore them." he whispered the his flowers, "I know that you are all important. more than anyone realizes." he smiled, continuing working.
He heard two pairs of footsteps approach. "Hey, what's that?" one asked as they ben down and grabbed a jasmine vine from his box. the man picked it up sideways and let it hang.
"If you hold it like that, you will damage it." Summanus offered politely.
"Who cares?" the second man laughed.
"Yeah, it looks like a weed anyway." It was in fact a plant that Summanus was planning on taking home and planting in his personal garden, and growing for tea. Before Summanus could explain that, the man threw the vine to the ground and lifted his boot over it. But as he tried to stomp down, his foot strangely stopped above the vine. Looking down, he saw that the gardener had caught his foot and was holding it in place. Gently, he reached under and retrieved the vine, placing it back in his box with the rest of the uprooted plants.
"This is the only time I will say it." Summanus said firmly as he let the man's foot drop, "Do not harm any of these plants."
The men laughed, "Or what?" one of them mocked, "You will plant some more?" without any hesitation ,the other man kicked the box, sending flowers, dirt, and vines flying through the air. But Summanus could not let them fall. as quickly as he could, he caught the box, and snatched five of the twelve plants from the air. unfortunately the remaining seven fell to the ground. He gently picked those up to, as the men's confusion dissipated.
Once they were all safely in the box again, Summanus stood and stared hard at the two men who decided that the gardener was crazy, and slowly began laughing, assuming that he missed the last seven plants because he was clumsy. "Instead of harming defenseless objects, why don't you challenge something that can fight back?" The men both smiled, and one threw a punch at the gardener. Summanus lifted his hand, and placed his palm on his opponent's fist. However, instead of catching the punch, he twisted his own wrist, and his arm slithered like a snake around the man's own arm. with a slight flex, his opponent's arm was bent outward in a painful position. applying a little force outward to the side, the man fell on his back. From here, Summanus had the option to dislocate the shoulder, elbow, and wrist. However, he decided to let go of the man. Looking at the other man, he silently challenged him, raising his hands up, palms outward, fingers only slightly curled. The man grimaced, but he understood that they made a mistake. Instead, he bent down, helped his companion up, and they slinked away. "Fools."
Kneeling down, Summanus finished his work, planting the rest of the flowers. He had no time limit on his work, as he simply worked until he finished that day's section. then the next day, he would move on to the next area he was in charge of. Seven in all, it was a one week rotation. He worked as if the incident did not bother him, Something similar happened every couple days or so. Most of the Variants steered clear as they heard of his reputation from the war, but civilians never really learned. they only heard about the crazy gardener who talks to flowers. They were like children, waiting and looking until they found him, then pushing his buttons trying to make him angry as if it were all a game. Vile people.
Once he was finished, he placed his tools in the box with his jasmine vine, and walked home.
Bringer of goodness | Misfortune/Broken
Some guy nearly slobbered all over her arm, which was the reason why she decided to quit work so early that day. It was only sunset, and she only started an hour before. Who knew why the club decided to open so early, but they did this time, and Anya had no interest in staying any longer for full-time pay with some wet-mouthed man's lips on her arm. The one rule of the strippers was absolutely no touching.
Anya scowled when she remembered the slimy feel. It was disgusting, and not even much saliva was on her arm at the time, thankfully, or she'd have broken character and slapped that man right in the face, or maybe even punch him. 'Fucking hate this job...' Anya thought to herself with frustration. She not only had to wear eye-candy clothes, but they were uncomfortable as well. She was freezing when she left that packed club and pulled her arms in tighter to keep herself warm in the wool jacket. 'I don't care what season it is... It's always freezing whenever I come out of that building.'
Whenever she explained how much she hated being a stripped, no on believed her and only laughed, or shoved her around as if she was fishing for compliments or something. An artificial was always hated, which was exactly why she couldn't get a job anywhere else. Anya was violent, and besides singing, a job she gave up so long ago, she didn't have any other special characteristics. She was good at running, but becoming an athlete would only prove how much of a fake human she was. Plus, her behavior was violent too, and PTSD constantly hit her hard from the war. Who would give a job to a talentless, psycho? Being a stripped seemed like the only choice she had left, and so she took it. It gave her a hella shitty apartment, but at least she had a roof over her head. The walls were thin, but it provided her with silence, and took away the horrible memories and sounds of the guns being fired from the war.
The Lower Ring became her home, and not even those rumored gangs could scare her away from it.
She tilted her head upwards and went silent, simply listening to the sounds of the Lower Ring. Nothing sounded like bombs, or the screams of dying people. Nothing at all. Simple things like this made her feel safer, because on some occasions, she would forget that the war had ended, and would begin to fear for her life again. No one liked that feeling.
'I'm just thinking too much.' Anya thought to herself when her forehead began to cause her to feel dizzy. 'Heading home right now and getting some rest about be the best choice... And pray to the demons and devils not to give me a nightmare when I decided to actually go to sleep for once.' She sighed deeply, stuffed her hands in her pockets, and began to walk.
âWhat is it, Ted? Im busy.â
The War God, Tristan Bellum, was sitting reclined in his black leather office chair. He had just gotten off the phone with Sterling Industries, a glassware producer. He had called them to know why his shipment of Se Quois Shooters was replaced with boxes of Champagne Flutes. The woman on the phone had been insisting that it was most likely a shipping error, even though not 2 minutes prior, shipping had claimed the exact reverse. They had been jumping him around their offices like a game of take no blame hot potato. They had been giving him the run around and Tristan was just done with it. He would have addressed his oldest friend more politely, but common courtesy was not at the top of his mind.
âSorry to bug you, Tristan, but....we sort have a problem.â
Teddy Prokop entered the unlit room, a lit cigarette hung from his left hand. His brown eyes shone unsteady from behind his glasses. His brown hair was styled in dreadlocks, which rather clashed with his trendy silver suit.
âWhaddya mean sort of? Do we have a problem or donât we, Ted?â Tristan said, his eyes focusing on Teddy behind his designer shades.
Teddy took a drag on his cigarette after he reached the desk. Tristan merely raised an eyebrow in anticipation. Teddy released the smoke and spoke.
âItâs about Sector Seven.....theyâve canceled.â
âWHAT!?â Tristan kipped up from his reclined position, his office chair went flying straight back into the wall, shattering. What do you mean, CANCELED!!?? I booked them MONTHS in advanced!!! How do they have the BALLS to cancel on ME!!??
Teddy hardly flinched as Tristanâs hands slammed into the prometheum steel desk, denting it in several inches. âApparently their bassist injured his hand at some party earlier this evening and they want him to rest it before they go on tour. But, itâs okay, nobody knew they were coming tonight. Itâs Mystery Guest night. Itâs not like weâre letting anybody down.â Teddy said, trying to calm down his friend and colleague.
âI KNOW, TED! People are still expecting SOMEONE!! And I canât think of ANY performer in town who would come down to the Lower Ring with no warning, in THREE HOURS!!!!!!!â Tristan yelled, pushing past Teddy out of his office.
Tristan threw open the door to his office so hard, the door knob became embedded into the wall. Trstan began to descend the circular stairs to the first floor. Teddy was jsut behind him. It sounded like he was trying to reassure him or something, but Tristan wasnât paying attention.
First some lazy pricks at a terminal put a zero in a wrong place, making him play phone tag for an hour with the least responsible people in the city. Then, some prick musician sprains his hand spanking groupie asses, and his whole Clubâs reputation is on the line. What made him angrier than any of these things was.......that this is what he had to get angry at.
There was once a time that the source of his anger was the sight of the mangled corpses of his comrades. He used to get pissed at the thought of not getting to drop point in time to get his soldiers out. The only people that earned his rage were those that regretted killing an enemy soldier, because that meant that that man died for nothing. Everyoneâs death has a meaning, and he would wish a meaningless death on no one, even a Korean Mech Pilot. Once, his biggest problems was, Will I get to see her one last time? Now only this stupid bullshit was there for his ire.
People tell him that he should feel blessed that those are his biggest problems, but then Tristan gets angry and hits those people.
Tristan eventually made it down to the first floor bar and began to mix himself a drink.
âI got you something.â
Tristanâs head slowly raised from behind the bar. He saw a small wrapped package in front of him. It was in a beautiful hand, connected to a pale slender arm, which belonged to...âNeppy...â. His gold eyes stared at her from behind his tinted glasses. Those eyes. Those absolutely breathtaking eyes. It was the first thing he noticed about her. It was not the color that he found beautiful. Nor their shine. But itâs whats behind the eyes. The person that shone through those immaculate portals.
Tristan eventually took full notice of her package and he took it from her. He slowly opened the package and stared at itâs contents. It was a pristine bow tie. He gently took it out and began undo his own bow tie, only now noticing how frayed it was. The War God then slowly and diligently put on his brand new bow tie. He turned and stared at himself in the mirror. A small smile began to slowly creep up his face.
Tristan turned around and looked at Neptune. He then slowly lowered himself down to her height and planted a kis on her lips. It wasnât fervent or sexual. But it was deep and it was real. When he finished, he rested his forehead against hers, keeping his eyes closed
âThank you.â
It was then that Teddy came arrived from the stairs. âTristan, you canât just storm off from this problem. Getting angry about it wonât help. We need a musical act and we need it soon. What are you....oh...hi, uh, Neptune.â Teddy finished awkwardly, just realizing he was interrupting a private moment.
Tristan sighed heavily and pulled himself away from Neptune. âThanks a lot, Ted. I know. Iâll think of something.â He turned back to Neptune, giving her a genuine smile of apology.
Pandora's mouth stretched into yawn. She wasn't tired in the slightest, the five cups of coffee were doing their job. Besides, she hardly slept anyway and was quite used to it by now. It was pure boredom that was making her yawn. Being a PI wasn't as glamorous as movies made it seem. There was a lot of snooping around and waiting involved. Like right now Pandora was waiting outside a shabby looking apartment block, waiting on a shabby looking man to emerge and get into a shabby old car, at least it wasn't as bad as the Third Ring.
This case wasn't particularly exciting. Two worried parents had contacted you a few days ago, claiming their daughter was a victim of child pornography. The police hadn't gotten involved either because there wasn't enough evidence or because they wanted to keep it quiet. She didn't ask. For some reason when she started prying in her employers business without permission they decided to find a different PI. It was her job to pry and it confused her greatly.
So here she was. Outside a Matthew Grahams apartment block. Waiting to catch him while he was away to find another kid. It was likely that her employers daughter wasn't the only victim and upon further investigation she found that there were several other instances within his comfort zone. This time Pandora was going to catch him in the act. It required patience that Pandora didn't have so she had resorted to talking to playing games on her car window.
"Oh someone's coming!" she chirped, getting excited and fidgety, removing her hand from the window.
Out of the front apartment door came Grahams. He wasn't as old as Pandora had originally thought, or shabby, which made her doubt this was actually Grahams.
"Yay! That's him!" she cheered happily and hid behind the dashboard of the car in such a way that she could just about see Grahams as he climbed into a car that looked like it would fall to pieces any second.
Pandora's heart was pounding in her chest as she heard the engine start. She slid further down in her seat, hopefully the old car would fit right in. This wasn't the car she normally used but it came in handy at times like this.
She giggled at the car, passing by hers. Then waited until the lights disappeared around the corner.
She clambered out if the car, flicking her hair over her shoulder.
Pandora skipped up to the door of the apartments, not a care in the world. She wasn't dreading what she would find, she just hoped she was right. She disliked being wrong, but it meant she could learn from mistakes.
There was a loud robotic buzz as Panda pressed the button to an apartment. Not the one Grahams was living in, a neighbouring one.
"What ya want?" came a grumpy reply, Pandora couldn't tell if it was a man or woman.
"Why hello there! Sorry for disturbing you! I'm a private investigator! Pandora Inese. I need to get to the apartment next to you. If you let me in I think I have money somewhere," Pandora said cheerily, swaying in her toes then onto her heels again then back to her toes.
"I don't want your money!" came the snappy reply.
"I have a fifty on me," she knew it would persuade someone living in any Ring, hell it would persuade her.
"You'd better give me the money," the he/she muttered before there was another loud buzz, filling Pandora with joy.
She took the steps three at a time, heading to 134. The apartment owner had buzzed her up and she owed them a fifty.
"Hello! It's me!" she called, hammering in the door until it swung violently open.
"Give me the fifty and get lost," the he/she growled lowly.
Still she couldn't tell what gender the he/she was. They ware seriously overweight. Obese even. It was a wonder they could get through the door.
"Yes! Thanks a bunch!" Pandora said offering the fifty.
A flabby, clammy hand snatched away the note greedily.
"Get lost," it growled again.
"Oh alright then. By the way you're welcome and I would also lay off the fatty foods. It's an amazement that someone your size lives in the third ring."
"Excuse me?" it snapped.
"Sorry?" Pandora title her head a little in confusion.
"Playing stupid now?"
"I'm not sure what you mean. I'm actually ver-Oh! Wow! Umm...," Pandora just managed to duck the fat fist that swiped above her head.
"I don't see why you'r- now you really don't want to- I really wouldn't."
The he/she was struggling to get out the door and had to turn sideways to get out.
Pandora decided to take a stroll to the staircase. It was quite narrow so there was no way that he/she could fit down there.
"I swear I'm gonna string you up!" He/she yelled in pure rage.
"I still don't know why you want to hurt me," Pandora sighed a little,"but I may as well. Oh I really wouldn't try to come down here,"he she kept approaching,"No really. You'll get stuck," despite all her efforts Pandora only seemed to anger the He/she more, at this point she really was genuinely trying to help,"How about I come back up to you? No? No ok if you're insisting on coming down."
"WHY DON'T YOU JUST SHUT UP!" He/she hollered.
"Okay! If that's what you want," Pandas smile had grown a little, she was quite enjoying this little show.
The He/she was waddling to the stair case them again, turned to waddle down it.
"I'M GONNA THROW YOU DOWN THE STAIRAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"
The He/she had lost it's footing and began rolling down the stairs, it was all very comical.
Pandora pressed herself in against the corner and watched, giggling as the He/she bounced of the wall an went rolling down the next set of stairs.
"Sorry! I got work do!" she yelled to the He/she, laying moaning at the bottom of the stairs.
She quickly jogged back up to the top, stopping outside Grahams apartment.
It wasn't a sturdy door so it wasn't worth wasting her body fluid on. In the end it would be easier for her to kick it down yet instead she decided on picking the lock.
It took her a while, fiddling around with her home made kit, consisting of a what looked like a needle, another but flatter at the end, a circular one and a smaller version. Then there was an extremely satisfying click.
"Aha!"
Pandora stood and pushed into the room, switching on the light switch. It made an annoying humming sound but that didn't bother Pandora, she had already found what she came for.
As soon as she focused, across the room on a coffee table were a bunch if photos and you'd never guess what was in those photos.
"Ha! Jackpot!" Pandora cheered and grabbed a handful of the photos, sifting through them. Apparently Grahams was interested in boys too. Panda wasn't one to go into details about those pictures but let's say they were very inappropriate.
"Alrighty!" she grinned, despite the slightly disturbing photos, selecting a few to use as evidence, including the ones if her clients daughter.
She would have to get to them as soon as possible.
Purity | Wildflower
The audience, that had actually brought something, left her gifts on the table in her living room, spoke a few words with her, and then left. It was the usual weekly performance, and some people were regulars to watch it.
An older man she hadn't seen before approached her to have a word and praised her a bit, but now in a way she quite enjoyed. "Your recital this evening was wonderful, Miss Tsianina." He grinned, and then looked down from his tall stature. It was incredibly obvious what he was looking at, and Enid frowned, clearly displeased. Her clothes were made by her, and while they did show a bit of her skin, it was dress clothing. They were meant to give off a mature look, but not one that caught the eye of a deviant.
She didn't always like speaking, especially to strangers. Her voice seemed very precious to her, and so she often used sign language to communicate with those she knows and doesn't, regardless if they understand or not. But this man clearly needed it spelled out to him orally. "Please leave." Enid requested. "I don't appreciate perverts attending my performances..." She said and quickly walked away from him before he could speak any more to her.
Once everyone had finally left her house, Enid closed her doors. The only time she'd let people into her house was if she was holding a recital or if she knew them well enough to just let them come in whenever they wanted. She closed her piano, put her sheets on the stool she sat on, and went towards the front of her house, which had been transformed into some sort of mini boutique for those who passed by to buy her clothes she tailors herself.
The day was just about over, and she made the decision to close the shop for the day. 'If I leave it open any more... I might not get any time to work on the newest dress.' Enid thought to herself and flipped the sign on the front door from OPEN to CLOSED. She then went back to the piano room, and then into the room next to it, which she used for sewing and work. Squares of clothing were everywhere and unfinished designs laid untouched on the table. It was the one and only messy room in her whole Middle Ring house. She sat down, scanning through her designs, but then sighed when she found none of them interesting enough and stared blankly out the window. 'Maybe I should just try and get some sleep instead...' She wondered absentmindedly.
Wilson walked along the streets of The Lower Ring, to him tonight was a great night indeed. It was calm for once, no screaming or anything to that effect, just the loud music from the various slums about. He ran a hand through his blonde hair and sighed resting his hand on his pistol that he kept strapped to his hip. He knew there was no danger currently however his past, the war, these things make him wary of everything and everyone around that he doesn't know. Artificial beings like him aren't exactly welcomed with open arms, in fact they are sort of hated and treated as underlings by those who aren't constructed in a laboratory.
War had left it's toll on Wilson, it left him hurting emotionally and it wounded him permanently mentally by giving him a pretty serious case of PTSD. His heavy-duty boots made a slight rhythmic sound along the cobbled streets, they were falling apart but it's too expensive for Lower Ring to repair.
As he walked he hummed a tune, a happy tune his best friend has taught him during the war, as he hummed it he smiled sadly to himself. Wilson looked at the buildings around him and wondered how they even held together.
With a long stretch he concluded that maybe he could go visit Anya at her job, it wasn't very far from where he was at now.
He arrived at her place of work but when he got there Anya's boss told him she had left early because of some slobbery moron that had pissed her off. Great, Wilson thought as he thanked the gentleman, turned on his heels and began walking to Anya's home. Anya's house was a rundown little ground-floor apartment, and so Wilson had never had any issues locating it. Wilson was worried however that if she was in a mood she may attack him and that would ruin his night for sure.
Hesitantly at first but with more confidence he knocked on her door.
"Anya? You home kid?" Wilson called out from the outside of her door and waited for her to open the door and to see her signature fuck you and your dumbass worries. . . Blah blah blah speech she always gave him. As he glanced around waiting for her to reply or something he smiled to himself, he was glad he got stationed here in the Lower Ring, sure he was pretty far from his friend Enid but hey, she was only a transport away. Then that thought reminded him he had promised to see Enid's recital tonight. . . Godammit. . . I'm a jackass. . ." Wilson shook his head and watched the flickering light that hung over Anya's door.
War had left it's toll on Wilson, it left him hurting emotionally and it wounded him permanently mentally by giving him a pretty serious case of PTSD. His heavy-duty boots made a slight rhythmic sound along the cobbled streets, they were falling apart but it's too expensive for Lower Ring to repair.
As he walked he hummed a tune, a happy tune his best friend has taught him during the war, as he hummed it he smiled sadly to himself. Wilson looked at the buildings around him and wondered how they even held together.
With a long stretch he concluded that maybe he could go visit Anya at her job, it wasn't very far from where he was at now.
He arrived at her place of work but when he got there Anya's boss told him she had left early because of some slobbery moron that had pissed her off. Great, Wilson thought as he thanked the gentleman, turned on his heels and began walking to Anya's home. Anya's house was a rundown little ground-floor apartment, and so Wilson had never had any issues locating it. Wilson was worried however that if she was in a mood she may attack him and that would ruin his night for sure.
Hesitantly at first but with more confidence he knocked on her door.
"Anya? You home kid?" Wilson called out from the outside of her door and waited for her to open the door and to see her signature fuck you and your dumbass worries. . . Blah blah blah speech she always gave him. As he glanced around waiting for her to reply or something he smiled to himself, he was glad he got stationed here in the Lower Ring, sure he was pretty far from his friend Enid but hey, she was only a transport away. Then that thought reminded him he had promised to see Enid's recital tonight. . . Godammit. . . I'm a jackass. . ." Wilson shook his head and watched the flickering light that hung over Anya's door.
Bringer of goodness | Misfortune/Broken
She approached her apartment and then found someone to be standing outside. Her eyes narrow from afar, just for safety purposes, and tried to identify this person from behind. It didn't work too well, and so she decided to take extra precaution. But... what was extra precaution? Tackle this guy from behind? Even as an artificial, it's not like she was superhuman or anything. Maybe try threatening? Try and find a different angle to see what this guy looked like? However, Anya didn't do any of these things. It was as if he mind went blank when she suddenly demanded, "Hey, turn around and show me your face, criminal-"
"Anya? You home kid?" Anya paused midway in her sentence and thought for a moment. Where did she recognize that voice from...? Oh right. Him.
Of course, this pissed her off. Quite a bit. "The hell are you doing, dumb-ass! Of all people, you should know that I always finish my job late- It's just plain stupid to try and find me at home this early in the night. Why are you in front of my apartment anyways, Mr. Patrol Guard?" She asked Wilson, also with her regular irritated suspicion. "You're lucky I'm here, else you'd probably wait here forever and be kidnapped by some freak gang or something. Didn't you have somewhere to be before this?" She waved that off, as if it didn't matter and explained why she was back at home earlier than before. "Some son of a bitch decided to try and suck on my arm or something and it was covered in his spit. I dried it off but I really just need a shower right now. I feel disgusting." She muttered.
Wilson heard a voice call out from behind him which made him to turn quickly on his heels pistol at the ready. Then the speech kicked in and he sighed holstering his pistol while Anya began her rant. Wilson walked over to her a little closer and then he chuckled at her irritation, she was getting more and more frustrated as she spoke and Wilson couldn't help but laugh.
"No gangs would be able to get me kiddo, honest I am tougher than I look. Were you worried for me?" Wilson leaned in and grinned. He saw her face get red, either from anger or embarrassment, Wilson didn't care at this point but he enjoyed getting reactions from her. "Also while I'm here, looking for you cause I worry for my little sister, how are you doing? I know I haven't visited in awhile, I have been busy. Patrols, hey I even busted a drug operation down by the sewers, I felt like a real cop. . ." Wilson stretched up and smiled happily, then as he came down he pulled Anya in for a warm hug.
"I know you hate affection and warmth and stuff but. . . You looked like you might cry, I care for you kiddo." Wilson mumbled into her ear before pulling away from the hug and handing her his heavy-duty coat."Take it, it's fucking freezing tonight, and"Wilson looked her up and down and frowned. "That outfit. . . Is it really necessary?"He looked at her puzzled with a little smile that he used to hide the fact that he didn't approve of her choices. Wilson knew though if he started that fight today, after all she's been through it may end up in an altercation.
"No gangs would be able to get me kiddo, honest I am tougher than I look. Were you worried for me?" Wilson leaned in and grinned. He saw her face get red, either from anger or embarrassment, Wilson didn't care at this point but he enjoyed getting reactions from her. "Also while I'm here, looking for you cause I worry for my little sister, how are you doing? I know I haven't visited in awhile, I have been busy. Patrols, hey I even busted a drug operation down by the sewers, I felt like a real cop. . ." Wilson stretched up and smiled happily, then as he came down he pulled Anya in for a warm hug.
"I know you hate affection and warmth and stuff but. . . You looked like you might cry, I care for you kiddo." Wilson mumbled into her ear before pulling away from the hug and handing her his heavy-duty coat."Take it, it's fucking freezing tonight, and"Wilson looked her up and down and frowned. "That outfit. . . Is it really necessary?"He looked at her puzzled with a little smile that he used to hide the fact that he didn't approve of her choices. Wilson knew though if he started that fight today, after all she's been through it may end up in an altercation.
A bad dream, that's what it felt like. Except.... It wasn't. Every night Christopher relived the same horrors, the blood on his hands, his dead comrades; he could hardly put the gun in his belt without a flashback of a face that no longer walked the earth. The cooling period is what his creator, Jim Parsons, had called it. The worst was over, but now he had to endure what was leftover in his brain.
There was a tear in his government issued police uniform. He frowned, examining the hole that had been caused by the graze of a bullet. The wound had already healed, one of the advantages of being a Variant, but the capabilities of his body could not fix thread and there was only one person Christopher knew that could use a thread and needle. Up to the Middle Ring he would have to go, it seemed.
He stopped by his house first in order to grab some money and an instant soup to compensate for the lunch he had missed. After putting in the hot water and pocketing the cash, Chris left and locked the door; heading towards the Middle Ring skybridge. Chris had been to all three of the rings, but out of them all he enjoyed the Middle one the most. It was where all of the farming was done and the trains took you past beautiful pastures and picturesque crystal lakes before you reached the inner city.
Chris stepped off of the platform, breathing in the fresh air; it wasn't anything like the freshly pumped oxygen in the Upper Ring, but it was better then the smell of sewage and piss that lingered around every corner in the bottom. A sigh escaped the male's lips as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his red leather jacket, he had changed out of the police uniform and was carrying it in a small sports sack that was slung over his shoulder. Christopher was halfway to his destination when his phone went off, tiny vibrations running up and down his arm. In annoyance the boy whirled around to find a piece of glass. He pressed his palm against a shop window and waited for the image to transfer. "What do you want?" The officer asked while running a hand through his hair, it was one of his seniors, a cop that claimed he had seen everything and yet did nothing. "A is off tonight, I need you to fill in."
"Can't, I'm busy." The old man gave him a glare that could wither the toughest of gangsters. Chris's expression remained placid, bored even. "Come on King, it's not like you've got anything else going on." He shrugged and pulled at his shoulder, the one that was not connected to the shop front. "I told you, I've got stuff to take care of. See if Sin or Wilson are up to it." With that Chris ended the call and continued on his way to Enid's home/shop. He knocked on the door twice before seeing the closed sign and wondered if she had run out. Chris could wait here for her to get back if she was in fact gone, but he didn't want to seem like some sort of stalker.
"Neppy,"
Neptune's smile grew when he said her name. She loved the way his mouth quirked up in a dance at the edges then slowly spread to the middle; she was also glad he liked the new bow tie and reciprocated the kiss with just as much passion. There was never lust or need in Tristan's kisses, just an intense fiery feeling that Neptune couldn't quite capture with words. She remembered when there was a time every morning Neptune would wake up unknowing as to whether their lips would brush again and all that cheesy romantic stuff people thought of when they were in a relationship in the middle of a war.
"Thank you," his words were like little fireworks in her ears, dazzling and powerful.
"Don't thank me, that's what couples do. Right?" She wasn't really sure if that was true or not, but one of her comrades had always received little presents from his girlfriend when they were in Polaris. "Tristan, you canât just storm off from this problem; getting angry about it wonât help. We need a musical act and we need it soon. What are you....oh...hi, uh, Neptune."
Neptune gave Ted a short wave, her curiosity besting her, she swiveled around on the bar stool to face the golden eyed man. Tristan was always getting angry, but if Ted was running around like a chicken without his head off then it meant that they believed their reputation was at stake. "Thanks a lot Ted. I know. Iâll think of something." The female spun around in her chair again, thinking. If Tristan would let her onto his computer (she would never invade another Variant's technology without their permission) then Neptune could most likely find someone for him. Let's see there was a dancer, a gardener, tailor, a handful of combat specialists.... A certain blonde crossed her mind, one whom Neptune had only met once and she was drawing a blank on the name.
"What about that girl that served on Nova? The blonde? I think she works at a strip club now..." Neptune trailed off, lost in thought for a few seconds. "I can find her if you'd like?" She asked Tristan, figuring that someone was better than no one.
Summanus made his way back to his home in the upper ring, trying to enjoy the weather. He chose the skybridge this time, paying the fee with his credstick. It was a long walk, but he was not in any hurry. He drew some confused glances from others, as he was covered in dirt, and still wearing his work clothes. He looked like a hobo, and therefore, shouldn't have been able to afford the price to cross the bridge. But he just ignored them all. He carried his wooden box along, and gazed out at the sky. It looked so serene. He was reminded again of how much he loved his current life. After everything that happened, he was finally allowed to do what he loved most every day. Smiling to himself, he briskly finished the walk.
He was glad to finally be back in his apartment. It was very small, consisting of two rooms and a balcony. The main room was sixteen feet by twelve feet, and the second room, which was a bathroom, was just big enough for a toilette and a shower. The walls were a grey blue color, and the room itself was rather empty other than a bed. The rest of his appliances were built into the walls to save on space. the balcony was where Summanus kept his garden, and was where he went straight to upon returning home this day. He planted the Jasmine vine, and quickly tended his other plants. Clipping a few stems, he hung them up on a drying rack he had set up. Taking a few that were finished down, he returned inside. "Kitchen Counter." he stated clearly. In response, a section of the wall slid out to provide a counter. He set the bundles of dry leaves down then finally stripped off his dirty clothes, and threw them into a chute in the wall. He took a shower, and dressed himself in sweat pants and a hoody. Taking a mortar and pestle from a cabinet beneath the counter, he crushed the dry leaves and placed them into separate jars, there was Mint, Lemongrass, Rose buds, Bee Balm, and a few others. Once finished, he stretched out on his bed and activated the TV in the wall at his feet. Slowly, he drifted off to sleep.
Purity | Wildflower
Since she wasn't much of a chef, she had it warmed up instead of making it herself. Just as the was about to take it out and see if it was hot enough, she heard two knocks on her front door. Her head turned while she took out the braid in her hair. 'I just closed the shop down... Who would be knocking after seeing it?' Enid wondered to herself. As she approached the door, leaving her steaming mug of coffee on the countertop, she combed her hair and tried to peek at who it was without being so obvious.
Enid always took precautions these days. Ever since the war ended, she left less safe than before, and so she became suspicious and cautious of anything possible, afraid one day she wouldn't and she could be majorly injured or even killed. Even the Middle Ring didn't have perfect security.
Well, the sun was already setting, closing off into the night, so there wouldn't be any shadow. No one spoke either, so it's not as if she could identify this person by voice or anything. Enid had an urge to bring some sort of weapon with her- anything to keep her safe incase it wasn't just a friendly person passing by. She wasn't any professional in martial arts... but she knew one of the weak points on the neck, so, if necessary, it could come into place.
Then, she opened the door, just a small crack, and found herself looking at young man, and this young man she recognized. Enid opened the door normally now and put on a small smile before quietly saying, "Good evening, Christopher." She was happy to see an old friend, even if the two didn't always talk so much after the war. "What brings you here? Don't you have work in the Lowering Ring?" She asked, recalling that his job was a police, servicing the Lower Ring. 'How dangerous...' Enid thought. 'Working down there... with all those gangs... It sounds like such a hazard and risk...'
"If you'd come a few minutes earlier you could have made it to the recital. I played a beautiful song tonight. You should try coming next week, if your job allows it." Enid spoke again. Her voice was quiet, but that should never be a surprise to anyone at this point. 'Come to think of it... Wasn't Wilson supposed to have come too?' She went back to her memory of bowing to the crowd. 'I don't remember seeing him... That idiot.' While Enid did think this, she knew she'd eventually forgive him.
Bringer of goodness | Misfortune/Broken
Her face turned red, from embarrassment, frustration, and a lot of anger. She had an urge to punch his side - and roughly, not in any light manner - but stored this for now, unlike she usually would, and spoke, "You're a patrol man, and I saw you pulling out your gun when you heard me. Of course I'm not worried for you, you self-centered man. If anything I'm worried about this gangs accidentally grabbing a man when they meant to kidnap a woman." She sneered, although her comeback was not one of the best she's ever made...
"Also while I'm here, looking for you cause I worry for my little sister, how are you doing? I know I haven't visited in awhile, I have been busy. Patrols, hey I even busted a drug operation down by the sewers, I felt like a real cop. . ."
"Hmph. Well, your little sister can take care of herself, thank you very much. In fact, she might even be capable of kicking your ass if you'd try her in combat." Anya then quit it with the jokes when she began to describe her daily routine and life so far. "Nothing out of the ordinary. I'm doing fine, I guess. The apartment is shit, as you probably already know, and so is my job, but I don't really care at this point. PTSD is still a pain in the ass, but I'll learn to deal with it. All in all... Life, is shit, but I ain't gonna do anything about it." Her improper speech stuck out like a sore thumb, but she wasn't incredibly intelligent, explaining why she had such a vulgar and indecent job... "And good job, Mr. Patrol Guard. You should try to stop working so hard and lend me a hand once and a while or something, or at least take a break. I feel like your boss, or whoever the hell works this city-town-state-county-thing overworks you."
Just then, Wilson embraced her just before Anya's instincts told her to move away. It was natural behavior from her, because of the war, but now that it's ended, it's been slowly fading away. A jacket - Wilson's, to be specific - was then wrapped around her, providing her with more warmth since her jacket was thinner than ice."I know you hate affection and warmth and stuff but. . . You looked like you might cry, I care for you kiddo. Take it, it's fucking freezing tonight."
Instead of making her usual remarks about keeping hands off of her and not showering her with sibling love, Anya sighed and muttered, "Yeah... Yeah I got that. Sorry, and it's just the weather. When I cry I punch something or someone, and you don't see me about to punch you. At least, not yet."
She began to go through the pocket of her ripped up and dirtied jacket for the house keys, which she always kept in a separate one on the inner side of the jacket, that way it was only available to her. While she began to unlock her apartment, she listened to Wilson when he said, "-And, that outfit. . . Is it really necessary?"
Just as Anya unlocked the door, she turned around with a suspicious look on her face when she told him, "I. Am. A. Stripper. You know I have to wear this sort of shitty, slut-looking outfit. Those fat rich men who come to watch me dance on a fucking pole don't want to see a girl wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants. I won't get paid for that."
Knock knock
Panda rapped on her clients door, shuffling through the photos again, checking she had a few if their daughter.
After a while, when the door didn't answer she knocked it again, before trying the bell.
"Hello?" she called into the letter box after getting a little impatient when there was still no answer,"It's me! You know the PI you hired. I have good news!"
Through the letter box she could hear footsteps, at last she was getting somewhere! Then the door clicked and swung open.
"Sorry we didn't answer. We've been getting a lot of-" a middle aged man started, David or Daniel or something. Panda decided to call him D.
"That's ok! Can I come in?" she asked, cutting him off, already stepping through the door.
"Yes this way. My wife and children are sleeping," he said, keeping his voice low, leading the way to the kitchen,"it's been quite stressful since-"
"Yes, I understand," Pandora cut him off again, already bored with him waffling on.
"Can I get you anything? Coffee?"
"Ah yes a coffee would be nice. A few cookies if you have any," Panda said, making herself comfortable at the table.
"I managed to get pictures," she said after a long silence as D rummaged through the cupboards for cookies.
"It turns out there were a lot more victims than your daughter, of both genders. Ah thanks!" her face lit up as a plate if cookies was set down in front of her.
"Any way," she muttered, grabbing a chocolate chip cookie,"I ont garge oo or eh oher picures."
"Sorry?" D asked, looking at you with a mix of horror and disgust.
"I won't charge you for the other pictures, just ones of your daughter," she repeated, after chewing and swallowing the cookie she had shoved in her mouth.
"Why? I mean why did you find other pictures. I did-"
"Yes but the more the merrier! More evidence and longer sentence," again cutting D off.
"Oh I see..."
"Good! Now along with the money I need one more thing," Pandora smiled.
"W-what?" he asked doubt spreading across his face.
"Don't mention my name. Don't ask why."
Pandora had forced entry. Illegally... Again. Then there was He/she. Panda wondered if it was still alive. All that fat had to protect its neck, right?
"Alright," he said after a moments hesitation,"How much?"
Really 'how much' depended on how much she liked her clients. She sometimes overcharged because they were rude but she liked D and she was in a good mood.
"Ah let's say thirty for each, yeah?"
D had already paid the upfront hiring fee so he only had to pay for the information. That's the way Panda worked. A lot of people didn't trust her and refused to pay before, those were the ones she overcharged.
"Ok I'll get the money now. Still in cash?"
Pandora nodded. Harder to find her if it was in cash, and it wasn't even the police she was worried about. There was sometimes a little rivalry between her and a few other PIs.
She shoved another cookie into her mouth and left the full coffee cup near the sink before heading to the door.
She stood at the door waiting for D to come running down the stairs again. When he finally emerged he was holding a wad of cash.
"Thank you," he nodded at her.
"It was fun," Panda shrugged, taking the money,"See ya!"
D waved gratefully as she headed back to her car. Now that was over she could get that full nights rest she had been looking forward to since this morning. She could already picture not needing to get up early tomorrow morning. That brilliant feeling of being able to just lie in as long as you want.
Wilson smiled sheepishly his tough exterior, which wasn't that tough anyway, faded with Anya's words."I feel like your boss, or whoever the hell works this city-town-state-county-thing overworks you."
Wilson replied to her as she fumbled for keys in her little raggedy jacket, under his pretty badly torn up one.
"Well, I get paid decently, although they don't very much like to pay me at the end of the month. Hmm, I think I will buy you a warmer jacket. From the middle ring. Nicer yeah, and I mean it isn't much but I can't stop by as often as I'd like. Not with my new patrols. They've got me Lower Ring and parts of the Middle now. Guess they appreciate I have literally no life so I would work retarded hours. . . " Wilson ran his fingers through his blonde hair as he watched her when she told him about her job and how things were going. He was taken off-guard when she let him hug her, that had never happened before. It must be tough working as she does, being drooled over and on by fat rich guys. Wilson's brow crinkled in worry.
"Look, Anya, I know you are tough and all. . . But I also know how it is to suffer. You know that. Here," Wilson placed a little silver circular object in her hand. It was engraved with a falcon and on one side there was three little holes, almost like an instrument of some sort."Blow on this whenever you need me and I will come help you, alright? God, unfortunately. . . I still have to finish my rounds, I love ya sis. I just worry, and I'm sure you think I'm lame and annoying but," Wilson brushed her hair out of her face and smiled a stupid smile. "But, hey us freaks have to stay together right?"
With that Wilson gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, he felt sorta weird for doing that but he felt like she needed something. . . Wilson said his goodbyes and began walking towards the transport that would take him up to the Middle Ring. He needed to go and apologize to Enid for missing her recital. He had promised her he would be there.
Once the transport had docked he took off running towards Enid's place. His hand instinctively hovered over the rectangular box in his pocket. A gift he had gotten for Enid to give her at the recital. . . That he had missed.
He saw her at the door of her store but she was talking to some guy . . . Wilson thought she said "Christopher" was this man's name. Was that her boyfriend? Was it too late? Wilson stood up straighter, she was gorgeous tonight, absolutely gorgeous. He stepped into the shallow lighting of the street lamp across from her, he smiled shyly and waved. Hoping she would notice him, he didn't want to call out. . . Yet he did want to. He wanted to kiss her, but he wouldn't. They were friends first, practically the best of friends. . .
Wilson replied to her as she fumbled for keys in her little raggedy jacket, under his pretty badly torn up one.
"Well, I get paid decently, although they don't very much like to pay me at the end of the month. Hmm, I think I will buy you a warmer jacket. From the middle ring. Nicer yeah, and I mean it isn't much but I can't stop by as often as I'd like. Not with my new patrols. They've got me Lower Ring and parts of the Middle now. Guess they appreciate I have literally no life so I would work retarded hours. . . " Wilson ran his fingers through his blonde hair as he watched her when she told him about her job and how things were going. He was taken off-guard when she let him hug her, that had never happened before. It must be tough working as she does, being drooled over and on by fat rich guys. Wilson's brow crinkled in worry.
"Look, Anya, I know you are tough and all. . . But I also know how it is to suffer. You know that. Here," Wilson placed a little silver circular object in her hand. It was engraved with a falcon and on one side there was three little holes, almost like an instrument of some sort."Blow on this whenever you need me and I will come help you, alright? God, unfortunately. . . I still have to finish my rounds, I love ya sis. I just worry, and I'm sure you think I'm lame and annoying but," Wilson brushed her hair out of her face and smiled a stupid smile. "But, hey us freaks have to stay together right?"
With that Wilson gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, he felt sorta weird for doing that but he felt like she needed something. . . Wilson said his goodbyes and began walking towards the transport that would take him up to the Middle Ring. He needed to go and apologize to Enid for missing her recital. He had promised her he would be there.
Once the transport had docked he took off running towards Enid's place. His hand instinctively hovered over the rectangular box in his pocket. A gift he had gotten for Enid to give her at the recital. . . That he had missed.
He saw her at the door of her store but she was talking to some guy . . . Wilson thought she said "Christopher" was this man's name. Was that her boyfriend? Was it too late? Wilson stood up straighter, she was gorgeous tonight, absolutely gorgeous. He stepped into the shallow lighting of the street lamp across from her, he smiled shyly and waved. Hoping she would notice him, he didn't want to call out. . . Yet he did want to. He wanted to kiss her, but he wouldn't. They were friends first, practically the best of friends. . .
"Good evening Christopher," her voice was soft like a gentle breeze whispering through the leaves. It tickled his ears and brought a gentle smile to Chris's lips. No one really used his full name anymore, it was a nice surprise to hear it. "What brings you here? Don't you have work in the Lowering Ring?" He nodded his head and produced the shirt from his shoulder bag. "I have off tonight, but one of my shirts got ripped and you're the only one I know who can sew a decently straight line." That last part was just a fun jab, Enid's sewing was the better than anything a machine could produce. Plus it gave him the excuse of getting to say hi to an old friend.
Work kept him busy these days and he didn't really get to hang around his acquaintances as much as he'd like. "If you'd come a few minutes earlier you could have made it to the recital. I played a beautiful song tonight. You should try coming next week, if your job allows it." Once more Chris nodded his head, he sometimes felt like a bobble that was constantly bouncing.
"I had fully intended to attend your piano recital, but a shooting broke out between two gangs and I had to be there to bring it own." He wasn't bragging, there was nothing honorable in what he did. With his ability, the King's Right Hand; Chris literally ripped the energy out of people and used it to power the sword that he drew from his own body. It killed to use it because that persons' thoughts, emotions, and memories were sometimes poured into that energy and it hurt to see inside of other people's lives. As far as Variations went though, it wasn't the worst.
"Anyways do you think you can fix it?" It was one of Chris's best shirts and he really wanted to have it for work next week. A stranger approaching caught his eye and then he realized it wasn't a stranger at all, but one of the men from the police force. He had never actually spoken to the guy, but had seen him around the Lower Ring in uniform.
By order of the Prime Minister and Chief Master Sargent of Rune, you are hereby required to report to Research Building A113A, located in the Medical District of the Upper Ring of Rune by the time of 1:00 PM on the day of 12/06/4897. This is mandatory and any Variant that fails to comply will receive capitol punishment.
Thank you,
Prime Minister Wesley
The Rain pelted down hard. The venders were packing up their stands, and umbrellas opened up everywhere. A middle aged, professional looking woman walked briskly through the crowd.
Why now? What's with them, all of a sudden?
He was fine before. Before, they never bothered him really. They knew he was out there, in the city, but they seemed content to just let him live in hiding.
The lady turned a quick corner, jutting into an alleyway. Three men in black suits ran past; she was safe.
That's settled. God, it's been a while since the last time I did a chase.
Yet, three days ago- November 24- she started to feel their presence. A quick glance by no one in particular, a shadow ever present on every corner. Was he not fitting in enough? He could fake dentistry- just pick at teeth with a few sparkly tools for a few minutes, alternating with gushes of water. Repeat 3 times, look professional, tell them they need to floss more. No, it must be for something else. How long had they been following him? He's been Martha Grahm for 2 weeks; had they followed him when he was that hobo too? Had they seen him...?
The men swung around the alleyway. Martha felt her heart skip a beat. She looked around frantically for a... a...the fire escape! She pushed over a trashcan and scrambled up it.
Crap baskets, Crap baskets...
She reached the third floor. She could hear yelling.
She looked around frantically. Someone. Anyone.
A giant, smelly, sack of flesh- no wait, that's a person. Ew. Bingo.
Martha ran up to the woman, or man, or whatever.
He managed to stammer out before Martha placed her palm on his head.Hey? Who the hell are yo-
Three seconds passed. Martha slumped to the ground, and the thing managed to get up (barely). The men reach the floor and pull out rain-slick revolvers.
said the bloby thing, picking up the unconscious woman.Hey, officers. This the source of y'all's troubles?
Is "y'all's" even a word?
They stood still for a few seconds, in astonishment. Or maybe disgust.
"Yep, that's her. She's a thief who poses as a door-to-door salesman. We've been ordered to arrest her, but she tried to escape. Thank you, ...citizen."
What? Don't I gets a reward for punching out this rapscallion?
The man paused briefly, before rummaging around in his pockets.
"Here's 15. Keep this quiet, citizen."
Darren sat back down on the chair, waiting for the men to go. Once he found the key in one of the pockets, (No pleasant work) he entered the apartment. Garbage, junk, a 50 (?), and... a card of some sort next to a phone book.
"Pandora- Private Eye- (phone number)-(office address)"
Alright. Seems like this fellow was hunting down a private eye. Hmm... probably for all these bruises on this body. This thing was probably attacked, and is looking for retribution. It probably has an appointment set up- or has at least contacted her.
...
...
"Well, I'm afraid those thugs, no, mafia, know I'm out for them. They're hunting me down- yeah- and I need them off my tail."
...
For a 50, no one will ask questions, right?
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Darren/ the thing/ knocks on the office door.
Night had fallen, the soft tickles of pink and sneezes of orange in the sky had long since faded to the navy of twilight and silence had begun to wrap itself around the Lower Ring. There was a false sense of security in the air as gangs retreated back to their homes for the day, done collecting their payments and raiding other gang bases. Blood was being blasted off of the streets by sidewalk washers and mothers were calling their children in from minuscule front yards, telling them that it was time to come inside for the evening.
At the police station, Sin was angrily buttoning up her shirt. She had been given the duty of rounding up all Variants tonight and begin to send them to the Upper Ring for whatever it was the government needed them for. Suspicion was high, there were whispers flitting across the halls as she made her way downstairs with the two other Variants that would be assisting her. In Sin's hand was a small device, a reader that could find the bar code of a Variant within three hundred feet. They were not going to take anyone in by force, no their job was to simply inform and point them in the right direction; should there be resistance however, they were allowed to subdue, but nothing more.
It was a long night, Sin had gone into bars, knocked on apartment doors, and had crept through alleyways in order to inform Variants of the mandatory report. Only one had resisted, but Sin had stopped him before he could do any damage and brought him in to the police station so they could perform the transfer.
Currently Sin stood in front of Medical Research building A113A, her hands shaking a bit as she wiped them on the pant leg of her uniform. She strode into the lobby, the last one to arrive and the doors locking behind her. The deadline had passed and Variants were standing in the entrance of the building. A few Sin recognized, a blond that owned a bar she had frequented and his purple haired girlfriend who could often be found there, a stripper Sin had given a ride home to once on a cold winter night. There were others, the gardener she had seen beat up humans who stomped on his plants, Wilson and Christopher from the police department, the private detective Pandora she had helped solve a case with once, as well as the talented mute seamstress, and... Wait, was that a human? The person was handcuffed and two armed guards stood on either side.
Confusion rode her expression for a moment, but it wasn't any of Sin's business if the government wanted a human here. Unless they were actually a reporter that had gotten into the building for a quick scoop? She shook her head and turned to face the man standing on a mini stage at the front of the lobby. He cleared his throat, the sound coming over the loudspeaker. "I'm sorry to have to gather you all on such short notice, but-" he paused, hesitating. "War has broken out once more between the Americans and Koreans. I'm afraid you've all been recommissioned for a new assignment in Hoshii. You're all going back to the battle front."
Sin's heart sank, her knees began to shake and she felt weak. Someone in the room threw up, another few burst into tears. The Variant leaned against the wall, her head spinning as she digested this news.
They were going back to the war.
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