Welcome to Gaia! ::


Chatty Fatcat

9,450 Points
  • Popular Thread 100
  • Wall Street 200
  • Entrepreneur 150
User Image
Name: Leontias Métaliene



Leon hands were slid into his pocket as he took a gander of Sigil. He actually never got a chance to see the city before he was detained by the UWP, and working with them never got him to see the light of day most of the time. The most light he ever seen was the own he generated. However, Leon felt it was about time that he took a gander of the City he generated with power every other day. It looked smaller than what he expected, it took so much power in and out for Leon to generate enough to light up the city. The city itself seem fine for the most part, however the smoke from where the mages guild once stood was visible, even from the market ward. His stomach began to grumble, being the conduit for a single power planet was nothing something that Leon enjoyed. However, it must be done, no matter how hungry it made him, the after effects of Leon’s abilities. Leon’s ability leaves his energy harshely depleted, he could absorb some electricity, but that will simply make his job more difficult in the long run.


Instead he was trying to find something to eat, Which is why he was at the Market Ward. He had recently got paid, which he was oddly surprised he did get paid seeing the position that he was in. He wanted to buy at least something to sit into his stomach. When he got hungry, he got tired and when he got tired….

Sadly that thought was cut off suddenly when a random passerbyer decided to step into his space. He blinked for a second and snarled. “Hey! Watch it you ******** Phelb!” He stated speaking to the rather portly man who simpled scoffed and walked away from the now irritated alien. Leon’s stomach continued grumbling, and he sighed, Food was necessary and fast, but first he much decide what he wanted to eat.


Omnipresent Consumer



Cry





Location: The Mage’s Guild – Street
Character: The Infiltrator Colossus
Story: The Return to Oblivion

Ertai had given his creation a simple design and a simple request: make them suffer. The monstrosity had done just that. Destruction could be rebuilt and wounds healed, but the loss of a soul could never be reclaimed. Although the barrier provided protection from His infection from spreading---it could not prevent an idea. It was the idea of death; it was an idea that all beings thought of. Despite this natural thought that all held contempt for but it was more that caused the dismay. It was erasure… It was Nevermore that all feared, even the undead. This notion that you are erased, that eats all. The very design reflected that. As the horror clamored through the stone surface beneath, it soon found itself combating a force out of its own evolution. The writhing mass attempted to expand outwards, segmenting and breaking out into slick bladed tendrils that lick to stone and flesh alike. As the Devil manifested his power to take control, something changed dramatically. It began to unravel. A singular ribbon of darkness started to unwind from the being, even as the Devil bellowed his glorious retort, yet it would be Ertai who would have the last laugh.

All around the fighters the Infiltrators would begin to follow this same pattern of motion. With each strike the Samurai made, it seemed to do little in the scheme of things. Wire, flesh, stone and steel all began to drop haplessly to the ground---lifeless. In the absence of Ertai’s presence they existed only to the extent of his influence and will. As all of the souls he held were an extension of him… Each soul orb they collected was a part of him.

It was part of his burden, to die each time he killed. The horrific memories and agonizing demise he gave, he also felt. The Colossus was no different. With Ertai’s stasis within Bravot’s keep, Ertai had severed all contact, even spiritual contact, which only meant the exhaustion of power. The Samurai would begin to notice the orb in his possession would start to fade from color, unraveling like the writhing mass.

The air cried… Cold and silent.
The earth cries… broken and violent.
They died as the earth and air cried.

The remaining Spartan like Infiltrators bowed down, as almost an honoring from the souls of their fallen comrades. Their glowing visages fading like all before. The extinguishing of life itself. Utter annihilation and oblivion.

As the Devil aimed to seal the Mage’s Guild, he would begin to notice the dissipation of the mass. Even with the distorting power of the Warp, it couldn’t prevent the Senescence of the Soul that Ertai created. The quintessential energies that made life scattered, some fragmenting into light and some whisked away into the Warp itself. It was at this point the cries seemed the loudest as the memories of the vanishing became the brightest.

Only one was left standing… It was the UWP soldier who had assisted the heroes in battling the monster. His pale eyes glanced towards Tres and then to the Devil. It was then that he started to dissipate. In a cold chill the man froze, looking back to Tres. With a fear stricken glance he made an attempt to run towards his former commanding officer as perhaps a last chance for help. Each step he took, more of what was once he crumbled away. Slowly bit by bit his uniform and flesh vanished, leaving a metallic skeletal underlay, still resembling him. As he reached Tres, the metal melted away into nothing but a shadowy image of the man.

”I’m sorry sir…”

He whispered as he made contact with Tres, vanishing in a gust of smoke.

All that was left was silence, the moaning wails of the dying, and suffering. The wanton
destruction was fed deep down into the Mage’s Guild, into Oblivion.

Original Player


New life.....⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘
User Image
яє∂


Location: |
Sigil:: The City of Doors |

Currently:"Walking through the aftermath of a God"
In the Company of: "Bravot, Astrella, and Nathaniel"

While Nathaniel and Bravot conversed, Red was more adamant on getting to their destination. This day had been one for the books, at least for her. She hadn't been around Sigil before when s**t had gone down as big as this. From her experience this was the biggest scale, and she was ready for it to be over. The group would move through the streets with ease, the closer they got to the Guild, the more destruction lay waste around.

Red wanted to get this business finished. No matter what she was feeling, anger, uncaring, it all was meaningless in the end. Ertai was gone, and as they got closer she could see that the Infiltrators were gone as well. That would make her life easier. The thought that stayed at the forefront of her mind was getting away from all these people. She didn't care to help anymore, the fighting was done, the only thing left was the cleanup.

Red took a glance back at Bravot, watching his facial expressions for any sign of what he may be thinking. As if nothing else around seemed to matter anymore, the woman dropped back a few paces to stand next to the man.

"So I hear you're in control of much of the housing around Sigil. Here in a day or so I'm going to be needing to find a place of my own. I'd like to sit and chat about my options for procuring somewhere to live. It doesn't seem that my stay in Sigil will be as brief as originally intended."

It was probably an odd subject to bring up at a time like this, but really what time was the best time? At this rate right now may be the calmest they get for some time. First it was the zombies, then Ertai without much of a pause. Red wanted to sleep, eat, shower, and as soon as she knew nothing else was going down she was disappearing for awhile.

The group finally made it to the Mage's guild about an hour after the constructs had crumbled into a pile of metal. Scanning the area she noticed Tres and Roen. This was going to be interesting. The last thing she had said to Tres before Ertai threw her through the portal was that she blamed him for the way she was now. There was zero doubt in her mind that he wanted to talk to her. Turning back to Thomas, the woman took on a serious look.

"I'm going to go tie up some loose ends. Call if you need me."

Then she was breaking off from the group, walking towards Tres and Roen. Was this day ever going to end?



count_Zantara

Deus Ex Aizen

Tres Ecstuffuan

Not Roen

Scalar Warden



⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙New beginning.....


Shameless Cat

Tenkai Matsumoto
"So what brings you to the Cage? Or to this bar, for that matter? I don't mean to pry, you don't have to tell me if its a private matter."


A monk? Tenkai didn't look like a monk. Then again there were those who screwed demons and then had their progeny succeed them in leading their organization were called paladins. Said order did failcascade hilariously at the end, but the point stood that all things considered hair was a very minor deviation from a typical monk.

Still.... before she could answer that question...

"The hair makes the ensemble scream samurai though, but that face when you said monk would pair really well with nekomimi."

Yup, her filter was still off.

"I suppose I'm still in Sigil because the portal I got sucked into sent me pretty far away. I doubt I'll ever get the chance to find out but I'd bet someone back home felt real smug about killing me. Er, effectively killing me. I'm still breathing...."

Technically undead were alive too, but breathing was a classic 'i am alive argument.'

"If you mean this bar specifically then..... a while ago? Sounds right. Some a*****e decided to lodge folks in the street and teleported off. So some of us couldn't walk off and let folks slowly die in the road and a good part of those kinda wanted to forget the incident afterwards. I didn't have anything better to do than kill time so here I am."

She let the whole trying to forget thing sink in for a moment, just to be evil. Tenkai seemed like the type to care.

"Committing one more ******** up thing to memory won't kill me though. Come to think about it that was rather tame compared to some of the others. Still ******** up though."


From her reply Tenkai would be able to determine one possibly unsettling detail about Sivak. In her mind, this was normal. She obviously didn't approve of the state of things much less glorify them but the sheer amount of times Sivak had seen 'superior' beings need to prove their superiority at the expense of others had ultimately normalized the event to her.

"Now seriously. I might be a bit drunk. But you can't possibly tell me the one guy drinking tea in a bar is just a simple monk. There's got to be an and to that. Like that Tres Stuffin guy from that Face Off tournament. While that name of his suggested porn star, he did get some impressive brawling done in the rounds I stuck around for."

She hadn't moved from her perch on the fluffy panda. Because fluffy.

Aged Gaian

Lady Gilaen
The secrecy seemed a little unnecessary. They had, after all, caused a bit of a public scene not long before then. What exactly did he expect to hide that the world wasn't already painfully aware of? Was he afraid that if the public eye focused too hard they'd see through his very obvious facade? Lovi didn't know. For the moment she didn't care. Briefly, she wondered if any goodbye was final, given that each time they said it seemed to shorten the length between their hellos.

"Because you're a very discrete man. I understand." she replied with no lack of sarcasm. She was enjoying the blow to his ego maybe a bit too much, but that was not to say the affair was an entirely pleasant one. He was very different from what he had been, and she didn't like that.

"Just relax. It's not as though we've never done this before... Unless, of course, we haven't, in which case I may not have come prepared." She was trying to make it casual, comfortable. The tension was familiar in a way. New clients were always a little nervous, but Tres was hardly a stranger to the experience. She sat at the end of the bed with her legs crossed and watched him move about the room in an embarrassed frenzy.




          "You do not understand Lovi.", he said with a serious tone.


______Lovi gently dismissed Tres's illogical dedication to secrecy. It made sense. This would not have been their first time together in an intimate setting. He had ended up sitting next to her on the bed, yet...not too close. He was not the primal aggressor as he usually was when they were together like this. Tres had come to bed sporting wounds before. He was a warrior, yet this time, it seemed that the scars were more than skin deep. When he spoke to her he looked annoyed but there was something beyond that look. Lovi had not known Tres to ever succumb to fear, at least not enough to ever let it penetrate the mask that was the Peoples Champion. Whatever had just happened haunted him. She could see it in his blue eyes as the emerald glow of Isshouken gradually faded away.

          "Things have....things are -worse - than they ever have been and this is merely the precursor to what is to come.", he said ominously, gazing deep into her eyes.


_____He stood up and stepped close in front of her as she sat at the end of the bed. Looking down, he continued....

          "They are my responsibility and I will see that those to look to me for leadership will have it but...I can't focus and I've got to focus or I'm dead, their dead. I need...I needed something to...distract me from it...", his crystalline left hand came forward to brush through her brown hair and touch the features of her face.

          "....and I thought of you."", he came down towards her and on top of her, pulling her into his kiss.


_____This would also be familiar to Lovi, the aggression. Tres had always been aggressive about everything he did but this was different from all the other times. The way he would attempt to pull at her body as he pushed his against hers was awkward. He sought desperately, awkwardly to lose himself in a rude kiss as if he were looking for the answer to his impossible situation in her lips. In that way, it was familiar yet possessed of an overt wrongness that prevented any of that passion that had made their coupling so...unique in the past was not there.

_____And if he was not thrown off after a while Tres would be forced to admit even to himself that this wasn't sexy. It didn't feel right. When he could not find it within himself to maintain the facade any longer he would simply stop, and roll over, defeated, overwhelmed by his inadequacy. The voices of the men he lead to death pulsed like a raw wound in the depths of his mind, reminding him of his failures and his shame. If Lovi looked at him in that moment she would see strange cracks in his flesh, as if a degraded crystalline nature was revealed in his typically normal looking flesh. He said nothing, not finding the words. Instead he simply returned to sitting at the end of the bed turned slightly away from her, not wanting to make eye contact. A fragile awkward silence would fill the void, if she did not break it.

Aged Gaian

The Great Absolute


Cry





Location: The Mage’s Guild – Street
Character: The Infiltrator Colossus
Story: The Return to Oblivion

Only one was left standing… It was the UWP soldier who had assisted the heroes in battling the monster. His pale eyes glanced towards Tres and then to the Devil. It was then that he started to dissipate. In a cold chill the man froze, looking back to Tres. With a fear stricken glance he made an attempt to run towards his former commanding officer as perhaps a last chance for help. Each step he took, more of what was once he crumbled away. Slowly bit by bit his uniform and flesh vanished, leaving a metallic skeletal underlay, still resembling him. As he reached Tres, the metal melted away into nothing but a shadowy image of the man.

”I’m sorry sir…”

He whispered as he made contact with Tres, vanishing in a gust of smoke.

All that was left was silence, the moaning wails of the dying, and suffering. The wanton
destruction was fed deep down into the Mage’s Guild, into Oblivion.



The Mages Guild - Street


_______The psion made eye contact with the final Infiltrator remaining. It had been the Enforcer who turned and somehow retained his mind. He remained armed and armored as the fear stricken soldier walked, he crumbled. The final realization that, this unique soldier who was so blessed that he maintained his mind despite the evil transformation that left his brothers but slaves to the Elder Gods will was not exempt from the horrible fate of the rest managed to break through the adrenaline rush and cause his heart to sink. In truth though, it was not simply that this man whom aided them despite the atrocity committed to his corpse that horrified him then. It was the knowledge that the souls of the departed, would not pass on to the next world. That everything they were was either whisked into the perils of the warp or simply vanished , terrified him. Tres was raised on occult lore, he knew the implications of absolute destruction.

          "No."


_______Tres stepped forward, dropping whatever weaponized shard of crystal he had been holding in that moment and stepped forward to grasp his disintegrating soldier. As he got close enough to finally touch him, he evaporated into shadow like vapor and only the memory of him remained.

_______The peoples champion stood there in the middle of the street where the battle had been. His head hung low with his right fist clinched in a tight. He felt very alone in that moment, with only the echoing voices and emotions of the departed to keep him company. It was a deep hurt that kindled the his battle fury to a boil and in a loud beastial cry he would scream. There was no meaning to the outburst, only pure emotion. The cry was equal parts pain and equal parts fury, something that belonged to an animal and not a man.

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH"

Generous Businessman

13,750 Points
  • Wall Street 200
  • Tycoon 200
  • Money Never Sleeps 200
[!]The Leviathan God[!]
Awaken...
[]~O~[]


[!] ~”Those who fight change are doomed to die, while those who accept it merely survive…”~[!]
User Image

The raw power of all that had been contained within his prism would shake Dithakar to his ancient core, and bring his shield of Harmony to a resolute end. While he had not been drawn into battle directly, the elderly mendicant could honestly feel the strain. He had chosen to bear the bulk of Oblivion's weighty existance...

A thing that, with nary a whisper, simply disappeared!

It was too much, and came too suddenly on the wings of an already unbelievable font of potent energies. The platonic solid was strong, and fashioned from the very forces that had assailed it, but the structure of Sigil....the very ground beneath their feet...could only abide so much.

-KkkkkkKCRACKkkk!!!-

With a shuddering heave, the very Torus its self began to give; splintering as the crystalline grid was subjected to both anomalies of order, and paradoxes of chaos. Logic could not sustain what had occured within, and so...as was its way...the cosmic laws began to compensate.

Light would fade from the prism, and darkness crept along its sides like aggressive vines. The mass within had already doubled, and the walls seemed to bend inward; curving concave as they gave way beneath the demands of a force beyond reckoning!

With mouth agape, and eyes wide in fear, Dithakar realised at last what had begun to unfold...the cage, and its contents, was quickly becoming a singularity.

A black hole that would sever the City of Doors, and then consume its bones.

There was only one hope...one chance...he turned on his heel, and bolted for the crystal he had sworn to protect with his life; meaning to do exactly the opposite, and with all haste. The pavement swelled up to impede him, and he felt out the depths of himself. Once, a younger monk had possessed the strength to crush stone, and steel, as if it were so much wood...He needed that now, and his body obliged.

The old man, his beard swaying with every shift, would slam his booted foot hard into the asphalt...reducing its bulk to rubble. The crystal was in sight, and so he leapt; his seemingly frail, and long overdue, body sailing through space. One hand grazed the fine-hairlike protrusion of silicon...And the shield was no more!

All at once, the walls would recede; drawn back into each of the crystals with a resounding thump of force. With that, and a final quake of the streets, Sigil's foundations began to settle once more.

The city, and its people, were at last free of doom's oft unwavering clutches.

At least, for now...

[!] ~”…Only those who effect change, who lead it, may find prosperity.”~[!]


The Great Absolute


Tres Ecstuffuan


Not Roen


Scalar Warfare


Fierach


count_zantara


Red the Ambivalent


Dues Ex Aizen

Wheezing Werewolf

Lovi pushed him off. Of course she did. He was floundering like a fish out of water, and kissed with about the same ease. It was a disgusting display...which was an astonishing feat, given her professional experience. She sent him rolling off the bed and got up herself. The air in the room went cold, or so it felt.

"Agh!" she groaned to herself as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. He hadn't repulsed her this terribly in a long while. With a heavy step, she crossed the room, grabbing her coat along the way so she could fish for her pipe in an inner pocket. When the thing was lit she filled her lungs with what felt like fire, then pushed the smoke out through her nostrils. It took a few minutes to appropriately calm herself, but then she had she turned to look on him through new eyes. Was this grim, pathetic mass all that was left of her lover? Gods, she hoped not.

"I'm a distraction, then, am I.." she said quite bitterly, though with a smooth, even tone. She folded one arm over the other and shifted her weight to one side. She was looking down on him now, deciding his fate after this failed attempt at intimacy. He'd come to her as a client, so it was just as well that she'd start treating him like one. Lovi took another deep breath of smoke and held it for a while, before letting it spill back out with her words.

"Were you hoping I'd overlook this pathetic display for a bit of gold?" she gestured to the whole of his being. Sad, but critical eyes took in the sight of him from head to toe. He was visibly weak and vulnerable. Part of Lovi wanted to comfort the poor man, but her pride and, I daresay, her heart were a bit too wounded for it now. "If you want to treat me like a stranger and pretend you're just a simple John, then by all means continue as you are now." She spoke with a calm clarity, removing her shoes in the process, then jewelry. "I'll tell you how sweet and sensitive you are for taking the burden of grief upon your shoulders. I'll tell you it wasn't your fault, and give you all the passion I can offer without real love or sympathy. And in the morning I'll leave with little enough compensation for the effort."

"And where will you be, then?" Lovi emptied the ashes of her pipe into a tray on the table before setting it aside. "Sitting here, still wallowing in your own pathetic misery. Until, of course, you call for another distraction, at which point, you can find somebody else..." She looked at him with a similar seriousness now, looming closer with short, steady steps until she was standing over him.

"I'm not your casual distraction, and I'm not your nursemaid. You started this damned "revolution", and if you can't accept the consequences of what you wrought, then clearly you never cared in the first place. Not about Sigil, the people-" It seemed as though she were about to add more, but she bit her tongue. "I know you're hurt, but you won't heal at the cost of my dignity. If you're ashamed of us, then say it. If you want me here as a professional, then let me lead, and don't ever approach me like this again."

Desirable Genius

arrow Sigil Streets

Lian could feel her stomach aching more as she sat trying to think. People passed her by like she was another kid on the street. Dead parents. Disowned. Abandoned. There were a lot of guesses made by people who just kept on walking. She kept her eyes cast down as she thought, wringing her tiny hands into the cloth of the blanket that was her only source of warmth and clothing. She would have to find clothes...then food. It was dangerous being this vulnerable and just sitting there wasn't going to do anything. Lian raised her head, knowing just where to go. There were many places in the market ward that were abandoned. People were too afraid to go out and regather what they had lost in the chaos which gave her plenty of chances to find things to wear. She hopped off the rubble and started running, bunching the blanket in her arms and making her way there as fast as her bare a** could get her there.

The first couple of places she looked were empty. There were crusts of things left but the food was so rotted from the lack of electricity keeping it cool, it wasn't safe to eat. Most probably would have gone on and eaten it...but she couldn't risk getting sick. There was too much vulnerability with being sick...her hands stopped rummaging around in a cupboard, pulling down a can beans and holding it with both hands. She could only remember shadows from before she woke up. Just a black blob in front of her eyes until everything went black. Lian climbed down from the counter she crawled up on and went to the second level of a former family store. Much of it had been ransacked but she found piles of clothes tossed everywhere. Must have been her lucky Sigil cycle. Most of it was meant for boys and what she found would work. She pulled on a pair of boys camo long pants and a scraggily white tank top. Lian looked down at her chest, bringing her tiny hands up to it.

If she had to go through puberty AGAIN she would have her revenge..but not having them gave her the advantage of being able to run without them smacking her in the face. At least now though she had clothes. Shoes were still up to debate. What she found was either too big or too small for her feet so she settled with tearing up a curtain and wrapping her feet up as well as her hands. In the toppled over vanity, she found a ribbon and tied back her hair out of her face and neck. She traced the tender pads of her fingers along the back of her neck. There was a scar there too but wider and thicker than the one on the front of her neck. It was strange though that she would have one in general...Elves didn't typically scar. Maybe it just didn't heal right? Something must have nicked around her neck while she was fighting Ertai's creatures, otherwise it wouldn't have been there in the first place. Lian grabbed the can of beans, a pillow case and started her venture into the rest of the Market ward to hopefully find a can opener, matches or a lighter, more food and maybe some shoes if she was lucky. Luck to her only came in spurts. You could get lucky three times, according to Fal'lainian lore, before bad luck comes to collect a debt. Lian stopped walking, standing in the middle of the empty market and looking down at her feet that were now filthy from city dust and grime.

She could never go home...She couldn't face Ark again knowing she'd screwed up and now she was stuck like this. Stuck at the very bottom tier of Sigil in power...and she realized just how fragile this all was. Being a kid in all of this. She had only woken up less than an hour ago...but young kids at the age she was stuck in wouldn't know how to do this. To survive like this unless they were very clever. She sighed, bringing her wrapped hand to her eyes and wiping them again. How many times had she cried too? All this in such a short amount of time...God no wonder Sigil was in the shitter. If this could happen to one person, then it happening to a whole city...Lian looked up to the torus, nose running and tears rolling down her face. She started sobbing, trying to make herself stop and only having to bring her arms up to her face, crying and crying.

Her wails and sobs could be heard around the Market Ward.
User ImageUser Image
The Dapper Duo





Tyrone Tyson
&
Frankie Jack Washington


Market Ward...


Lian Feaorne
Her wails and sobs could be heard around the Market Ward.


They still had their dapper clothes.

But they were no richer than yesterday.

Now, Tyrone Tyson and Frankie Jack Washington looked unassumingly into the maze-like Market Ward from a hilltop accessible by crumbling stairs starting from the damaged street below. They sat on a crooked bench where if either man were to move it would creak.

It did so incessantly as Tyrone tapped his right heel off the floor and motioned his leg like a piston.

Frankie tried to ignore the noise by gazing out into the parts of the Market Ward that looked abandoned and totally ransacked. There were tin shacks and tents made of bed sheets. The streets and alleys winding through this part of the city were burdened by rubble or pit holes. Most of the buildings, either cement, steel, brick, or wood, had gaping wounds in them and looked as stable as a dunk.

It was a somber sight...

“The hell we're here for?” Tyrone asked and continued to piston his leg.

Frankie threw up his palms. “The hell is your problem?”

Tyrone crossed his arms and glared at Frankie. His leg kept motioning and the bench squeaked like a cheap motel bunk during a night of passion. “The hell we're still broke and hungry for?”

Frankie jumped to his feet. He rounded and kicked the back of the bench. Tyrone hopped off before his seat went flying back and watched as Frankie curb stomped it repeatedly.

“The hell I'm supposed to know! We got these ******** fly a** suits and nobody even give us a nod! What's a ***** supposed to do to get some respect around here?!”

Tyrone shook his head. “How 'bout you stop acting like a damn silver-back gorilla and think of a plan. A scheme. Y'know, a god damn maneuver.”

Frankie ignored Tyrone as he beat the stomped the bench into splinter until he reran a part of what Tyrone said.

He stopped and turned at Tyrone. “Don't you call me a gawd-dayum ape!”

“A gorilla's a monkey, dip-s**t!”

“Monkey's got tails.”

“No, those are apes.”

“You a stupid, Boston ********.”

Tyrone shrugged, put his hands up, and smiled slyly at Frankie. “Cause all the mamas keep giving brains till I got none.”

“I was gonna punch you if you had included my mom,” Frankie said.

Tyrone opened his mouth. Frankie cocked his fist. Tyrone clenched his jaw and looked away. He neared the beneath railing that barricaded them from a sharp, thirty-foot drop. Tyrone turned his right ear into the wind. It was better than his left ever since he got caught by that explosion in Afghanistan. Back in an old life where he first met Frankie.

“You hear that?”

“Hear what?” Frankie paused and listened. “Oh yeah, I hear it. Sounds like a kid's wailing pretty hard.”

“Yeah, which means, we leave,” Tyrone said. Before he could go, Frankie grabbed him by the collar.

“Really?”

“I was joking.”

With that said, the dapper punks made their way down the crumbling steps and onto the lonely Market Ward streets. The farther they went the louder the crying became.

“The lil' urchin's probably getting bullied or somethin'.”

“What do we do if the kid's gonna be someone's lunch?”

“We do what we always do.”


“Get into a lot of trouble.”


“And ******** s**t up.”

So they rounded a corner and saw a child by itself (couldn't really tell if its a girl or a boy... or both... at first glance).

“The hell is wrong with you kid?”
Frankie said.

“Crying is like a dinner bell to creepy assholes, don't you know.”

Frankie slanted his eyes at Tyrone.

Tyrone shrugged. “Look, I'm too beautiful to be a creepy a*****e.”

“Shut up.”

Desirable Genius

Epic Myth


arrow The Market Ward

Lian kept crying and crying, eventually squatting down on the ground until she heard people approaching. Crap she was supposed to be hiding and ducking but she was still exhausted from whatever had happened to her before. Her legs still felt like rubber. She got up slowly, holding onto the side of a grounded post that managed to survive the panic but the drapery that served as the shop's awning was long gone. She grabbed the pillowcase of her only bit of food, looking around for what was coming. Then, like two idiotic shining knights, two men approached her. She sniffed, eyeing them warily and holding the bag in front of her protectively. They looked like they could be mafia from the suits they wore...but something told her in the way that they interacted they were far from Mafia grunts.

Something below that actually.

She eyed them, her eyes still watery as she stared at them. "I..."She started, her tone clearly a girl just dressed in boys clothes. "I'm alone...I got hurt really bad...and someone dumped me in the streets...I'm just..."Her lower lip quivered and a whine slipped her throat."I'm hungry...my head hurts...I feel sick."

Lian eased the pillowcase down, rubbing her stomach that growled pitifully. Then lightbulb. These two didn't know who she was really (not that anyone but the one who did it knew) nor just how much in intelligence she really had that towered skyscrapers over them. Maybe she could use this to her advantage? Lian cast them both the most pitiful blue puppy dog eyes that watered in the corners and sniffed. "Please don't hurt me too...All I've got is this can of beans...I was looking for more food and a place to sleep until I felt better...Do...Do you have any food? Or a place I could sleep? I c-can't do much...but *sniff* I know how to cook. If you can help me find more food, I can cook something...Please? I don't want to be all alone...Sigil's a dangerous place for little girls..."She pleaded with them, hoping that their ape-like demeanor between them made for easy plucking heart strings. It wouldn't win her an Oscar for sure but she could damn well win over these two...whatever they were. A human body in Sigil was the most deceptive thing in the world. You didn't know what they could do until they showed it.

"You're both so big and strong...No one would hurt me if I was with you..."She kept up the buttering.
User ImageUser Image
The Dapper Duo





Tyrone Tyson
&
Frankie Jack Washington


Market Ward...


Tyrone chuckled and nudged Frankie with his elbow. "Haha, hear that, she said I'm big and strong."

Frankie shook his head and rolled his eyes. Tyrone may not have been affected by the girl's plea, but Frankie was. Back on Earth, he had a child with a wretched woman, but that little girl was his everything. Seeing this kid -- who could be as alien as every other creature they've seen so far -- beg for help hit Frankie in the soft spot somewhere in his chest.

He shoved Tyrone out of the way and crouched in front of the child. "Hey, Niña," the black man said, "Ain't no need to cry. This place is plenty scary to a couple of big guys like us, too. How about we get you to the authorities--"

"The WHAT?" Tyrone stepped beside her with his arms crossed and glared at Frankie. "We don't deal with pigs."

Frank shook his head. He kept his eyes on the girl as he wiped the tears off her cheeks with his thumbs. His hands were large and rough, which matched his taller and stronger build, and also suggested he's familiar with manual labor of some kind. His knuckles were scarred from previous fights, although he didn't look as bruised around the face like most knuckle-dragging thugs, so it was fair to guess he won most of his fights. Or came out lucky.

"We ain't got the means nor the ends to take care of a little girl."
Frankie locked his eyes with Tyrone and they glared at each other for what might have felt like a long time.

Tyrone broke away first, but he had a smile on his face and would drop onto his behind with his legs crossed. He sat to the girl's left and looked up to her with a slithering snake's grin.

"I got a better idea. The girl wants protection, she's gonna have to work for it, and I'm not talkin' about cooking either."

"Gawd, Tyrone, no!"


"No, ********, I mean she's gotta help us pickpocket,"
Tyrone said indignantly. [******** you, man, I'm not that into pervy s**t. I mean, I'm a perv and all, but still, I got standards."

"Well why don't you and those stands button those lips, watch the language around Niña."

Tyrone shook his head furiously, stood up and walked off fuming. He didn't go far. He stopped by a leaning light post, pulled out a cigarette, lit it with a Bic lighter and started puffing smoke.

Frankie chuckled a little. He pressed Tyrone's buttons on purpose, but he quickly got serious and returned his attention to the girl. "He's got a point. We look sharp, but we ain't got the bread to back it up. But if you want to partner up with us and get something good out of it. We gotta get our hands dirty, Niña, and I can imagine what bird-brain got planned."

Frankie jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at Tyrone's direction.

"I heard that."

"I know."
Lian Feaorne

Desirable Genius

Epic Myth


arrow The Market Ward

Lian sniffed but inwardly smiled. At least one of them fell for the face at least. She didn't know what a 'Neenya' was but it had to be something along the lines of 'kid' in a foreign tongue. She looked up at him, her lip still stuck out and pouted. The mention of other work made her twitch a little uncomfortably until he brought up the other possibility. Pickpocketing? That was small. These two macho meat heads in suits could do more but she had to figure out what. They had to work for her as much as she for them it seemed. Such was this hopefully short-term life in a child's body. She cracked a smile to Frankie. "Okay...So long as I've got a roof over my head I'm okay...but...Do I really have to steal from people's pockets? Everyone's so poor...You can't even find a coin on the sidewalk anymore and I used to find them all the time when people dropped them."She said, looking down at her feet and then shyly moving so she was sitting on Frankie's knee with her pillowcase with only a can of baked beans still in hand. It was sort of like the beaten puppy effect, going to the nearest, kindest person and getting so close turning them down would look bad.

'Just keep buttering...'She thought.

"I tried begging at that big elf office that has the windmill on the roof...but they don't hire little kids...Not even to help clean."She said, sighing heavily and sniffing. "You and Mr. Tyrone look like magicians with your nice clothes...Are you two magicians?"She asked, her little elven ears perking up and her eyes sparkling in faux curiosity. "Do you know magic tricks? It would be so cool if you were! I can do magic too. We can be three magicians like they do at the carnivals."
User ImageUser Image
The Dapper Duo





Tyrone Tyson
&
Frankie Jack Washington


Market Ward...


“You, pick-pocket? Puh-lease, kiddo, give me more credit than that,” Tyrone said with a sneer. “You're more of a distraction, I do the sticky finger work.”

While Frankie was a tall and well-muscled human male, Tyrone had more of a slender and wiry build. They were both athletes, but between the two of them, Tyrone was the fastest. On top of speed, Tyrone had a great amount of dexterity and awareness. He's a sneaky a*****e himself. It was why he could see through the girl's deception and Frankie couldn't, although his sharp eyes didn't equal a sharp writ on a regular basis. He's more of the gut-feeling type, and his gut said the girl wasn't all that she seemed. But he played along since his bro, Frankie, was invested in the rugrat.

Other than his outburst, he smoked silently while Frankie contemplated what the little girl had said. For Frankie, this world was strange and full of surprises, but some parts of it mirrored Earth. Here there was still the poor and the unemployed, which went hand and hand although some folks in the bottom of the barrel would be offended if you called them one when they were the other. Just the other day, however, they saw a bustling street market with tents pitched and carpets rolled out and vendors throwing samples at Frankie and Tyrone to hook them. It was an impossibly vast flea market on speed—this bazaar part of the Market Ward. Surely, they would find money there.

Frankie's snapped from his thoughts when the girl went and sat on his knee. At first he found it a little off-putting, he barely knew the kid. But when he looked down at her feet and saw how they were wrapped in rags... there went that feeling in his chest again, but this time it tugged tight and squirmed like a hog-tied worm.

“If we were magicians, I would have magic you some shoes first,” Frankie said. “But we ain't. We got these threads at some magic men's clothing store.” Frankie patted his purple vest and rubbed over the black jacket that felt fine underneath his touch. Looking at his own shoes, they still had the new gleam and polish although he's been walking in them for a while. He didn't feel any discomfort either. Magic clothes, huh?

Tyrone dropped the butt of his cigarette and squashed it under his loafer's heel. “Whatta ya two waiting for, ya mama's to pick ya up after playing ding-dong with the next door neighbor?”

He started off without them, heading in the direction of the windmill the girl had mentioned. He remembered passing by when the elves were closing shop. Maybe pickpocketing wasn't the way to go—not in this part of the hood—but breaking and entering was in their repertoire too.

Frankie looked at Tyrone, at the girl, and then picked her up and plopped her on his own shoulders. “Don't think I'm doin' you any favors. I just can't let you walk around and get a nail or piece of glass stuck in your foot. Then what good are ya?”

Frankie followed behind Tyrone with the girl on his shoulders.

“So, what's ya name, squirt, and what woo-woo magic can you do?” Tyrone said without looking back. When they rounded a corner they could look up a trashed road pitted between condemned buildings, which changed into a cleaner street. That would soon transition into a bustling metropolis split by a woody area and a large field of wild flowers and grass and a brook running through.

And to add an uncanny valley element, there was a hill floating by chained to the ground.

Both men stopped to look at this sight of magic and nature mixed with city in awe. It wasn't like Central Park surrounded by Manhattan. There was a fence to help tell the difference. But here in Sigil, there was no clear line that dictated where the shift occurred. It seemed to just gradually be one or the other with a hint of magic.

Because they were completely human, they couldn't really feel it or tell it apart from anything else that was supernatural. But, if a floating mass of earth wasn't a good indicator that there's magic afoot... what was?

“Yeah, what magic can you do? Nothing like this, right?”

Quick Reply

Submit
Manage Your Items
Other Stuff
Get GCash
Offers
Get Items
More Items
Where Everyone Hangs Out
Other Community Areas
Virtual Spaces
Fun Stuff
Gaia's Games
Mini-Games
Play with GCash
Play with Platinum