Elysium Inn (Always Accepting Literate People)

[Vincent W Sinnet]

Aman merely nodded at Janet as she made her goodbyes. Then his big blue eyes turned to Cerano whose attitude had mood had obviously deteriorated. After some time had passed after Janet left Cerona let loose with a bunch of words that Aman didn't quite understand. Now Aman didn't know precisely that Cerano's frustration lied with being stuck with him. But it was in Aman's nature to assume that he was the source of most peoples frustration. Aman considered himself a burden, he constantly felt bad since most cases required people to take care of him. Aman didn't know that Cerano just didn't like being stuck with children, but it was enough that Aman felt bad. Even when Cerano put on a happy face and tried to act friendly that Aman didn't even look up. Aman tried to search for the right words before looking back up and giving Cerano a warm smile.

"I haven't... But I think it can wait for tomorrow." Aman was going to do what he could to make things easier for Cerano, hopefully. "You don't have to worry about me... Mister Cerano... You must be plenty busy already... I think I may just go back to sleep... It is a little late. " Aman's smile brightened up a little "Thank you though..." Aman then slowly made his way off the bed, stumbling a little bit as his feet hit the floor but he managed to stable himself. Aman pulled back on the covers of the bed so that he could climb in under of them. A simple task that Aman seemed to have a little trouble with but he managed well enough. After he crawled into bed and pulled the covers over his small body he looked back at Cerano and said "Good Night, Mister Cerano." He nestled his head on the pillow.

All Aman could see was a hazy figure. It was clad in black decorative armor with long flowing cape of purple. It floated there like a mist and Aman couldn't move a single muscle. It's face was obscured by many straps and awrappings all that looked down on him was a single eye whose color was simply that of the haze. The more Aman looked upon this ghost, the more he lost track of everything the more he lost track of the things he was trying to hold onto. There were all but memories of the inn left, of Miss Janet who was so nice and of Mister Cerano whom Aman had inconvenienced. When that was all, the ghost had vanished and darkness overcame Aman.

~

The ghost however still had business. Very important business with a very important man. A dark cloaked figure sat motionless in front a large array of monitors that displayed many a different scene. The haze materialized behind the cloaked and hooded man, it stared at him and before it could speak the man did. "Awful, everything is a mess." The ghost responded blandly, "How so." The cloaked figure turned in it's chair, only his mouth and the gleam of metal from beneath the hood could be seen. "How!? Look! These people, look! That one should be dead, these two should still be alive and these four over there shouldn't even be involved! But oh no, some a*****e had to ******** with people I told him not to and screw up everything. Again." The some a*****e obviously pertaining to the ghost.

"You will see the results soon enough." The ghost responded. But the hooded man snapped back "Don't you even! Don't you act as if you know even a ******** bit more than me! These people are integral parts of several different projects I have going on. Now it's ruined. Fantastic ******** job." The cloaked man huffed and turned back to the screens. "You'll find others." the ghost responded. "Of course I will. I'll have to. But you aren't making things any easier." The ghost sighed "I do what I must." The cloaked man snapped again "So do I! But you can't even respect that!" This time however the cloaked man didn't bother to turn away from the monitors. "What of the boy?" The cloaked man asked after several minutes of silence. "His memories are completely gone. It has taken some time to rid him of those memories of so long ago." The Cloaked man nodded from where he sat "Yes... So many much more prominent and painful memories easily glaze over those old ones. I understand. What of his brother?" The ghost remained silent for a few moments. "He will not be trapped for long. I worry." The cloaked man finally looked back again. "We still have some time, savor the peace."

Aman remained asleep and unmoving from the spot he fell asleep in. His breathing was as shallow as usualy and the sound of rain against the window pane did not affect him in the least. His dreams now no longer contained darkness but centered around visions of Miss Janet, who had been so nice to him since he arrived.

[Yoshkun]

After watching Tomahi depart and try to fool him into thinking she had actually let the cross pendant drop to the carpet, Vincent ultimately decided against pursuing her and thought it best to catch up on some of the sleep he had missed in the daylight hours. It was always weird to lay his head upon a cushy pillow such as this, but his coffin would be a pain to carry and would surely spook some of the residents; which might earn him Janet’s disfavor. That would be unwise considering this was the perfect place to hunt CLOAK agents from in spare time. So, instead of complaining, he let his fluttering crimson eyes come to a close as darkness surrounded him and finally allowed the vampire to slip into sweet slumber.

Hours passed by, the sun sunk into the horizon and Halloween night began for many of the residents and future residents of the Elysium Inn. It was difficult to say what vampires dreamed about, some didn’t sleep during the day, some couldn’t dream, and others simply didn’t wish to speak of such horrid things. For Vincent, it was usually images of things he had seen in days, weeks, and even years past flooding into his sub-conscious; mostly nightmares in his eyes, but it was one of the human qualities he had left to cling to. So as twisted it would be to say he enjoyed the nightmares, he knew at the bottom of whatever heart he had left…he did. Something would awake him from his dreams however, faint noises in the distance and one distinct odor that made his nose wrinkle in disgust. He rubbed an eye drowsily before sitting upright, taking another whiff and experiencing the same reaction.”A succubus…” He muttered, obviously not too fond of the creature. Well at least he could piece together the noises he was hearing with the smell. Another victim for the axe he naturally assumed, not knowing the shepherd actually had some leverage in their pheromone love affair. His stomach began to churn and growl for attention within seconds, reminding him that he hadn’t ‘properly’ fed today because of his run-in with Tomahi. He cursed the girl in a whisper, rising from the mattress and walking to the window. It was certainly late, past midnight at least given the moon’s position and lack of lighting from some of the taller skyscrapers. The gathering cloud formation also caught his eye, which told him it would most certainly rain today. No matter, he thought as he lifted the window and took in his first breath of the night air with a pleasant sigh to follow. He would be quick…

And quick he was, finding a woman in a panda costume that was drugged out of her mind just lying in an alleyway muttering gibberish in mere minutes. Halloween certainly had its uses. He bit into her neck and began to draw blood, whispering things of love and lust in her ear as predator and prey shared a bond of unspeakable passion and pain. Unfortunately, his appetite exceeded his usual cautious methods and resulted in the poor girl whimpering futilely before going limp in his arms. Remaining calm about this miscalculation, Vincent pulled his jewel encrusted dagger from his belt and slit the woman’s throat without blinking an eye. He had to make it look like a murder, otherwise CLOAK agents would be snooping the area for weeks for a Vampire specimen. Placing the knife back on his belt with a disgruntled sigh after wiping it clean, he fell back into the shadows and made his way back the Elysium Inn in a hurry.

He would reappear through the shadows in the living area, his glowering red stare announcing his arrival well before soft footsteps could be heard. It was quite obvious that the man was somewhat unnerved, licking the edges of his lips before using his sleeve to remove any crimson that blotched his flawless pale complexion. He would have normally have just gone straight to his room and maybe practiced a few melodies on the piano until an hour or so before dawn, but something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention immediately once he opened the door. He wasn’t sure what it was at first glance, but stepping towards it for closer inspection confirmed his suspicions. It was a young woman, an adorable one at that with pink curls and bunny ears to boot. Her attire was also amusing, Vincent wasn’t sure what it was supposed to be exactly but it looked like something he had seen in the newspaper with that cape wrapped around her curves so tightly as if a makeshift blanket. The vampire was not fooled however, he knew that scent too well and immediately recognized her as a sheep; possibly an older one than he imagined at first. That certainly struck him as odd, as ‘sheep’ were always accompanied by those known as ‘shepherds’, yet here lay this one nearly trembling from the drafty nature of the room all by her lonesome. He knelt to her, keeping his own brand of ‘pheromones’ well guarded as not to disturb the young lady from her rest. Something was clasped quite tightly in her left palm he noticed, his curiosity getting the better of him as he took her hand into his own to get a better look at the mysterious object. He probably would have exclaimed something in either French or Spanish in disbelief at what he saw if it wouldn’t have given poor Miwa a seizure, but much to his surprise, it was his mother’s cross necklace that Tomahi’s sticky fingers had nabbed from him several hours ago. Little did he know that Tomahi had dropped it upon her hasty departure from the Inn, leaving the desk Imp to pick it up hours later and leave it atop the ‘lost and found’ box for a curious Miwa to borrow. Wasting little time, Vincent wiggled his pendant free after about five minutes of struggling with her fingers (the sheep was tougher than he expected) and placed it around his neck once more; a small smile curling upon his rosy lips at the satisfaction the reunion brought him.”Merci.” He whispered to his new found savior before standing, turning and heading for the door to leave the sheep as peacefully as he found her…but a noise in the darkness instantly stopped his movements. The small girl behind him shuddered visibly and her pearly whites began to chatter, obviously feeling the chill Vincent had brought with him through the shadows. He let a long sigh pass through parted lips. Could he really let the girl who gave him his ‘humanity’ back suffer after taking the life of another? He stood there in the open doorway and pondered over it a minute before reluctantly giving in to his human urges, returning to the teeny hopper and gently lifting her small frame from the sofa into his slender arms. Extraordinaire! How light she felt cradled in his arms!

He lingered no further in the living area and made his way up the staircases and through the hallway swiftly until he stood directly in front of the closed entrance to Room 10. Getting to the key in his pocket was a bit tricky if he wanted Miwa to continue dreaming, so he simply fazed through the door with her as he normally would by himself. Fortunately, to Miwa it would just feel like a small breeze had passed over if nothing else. Ah, how the room of crimson looked with shadows draped about it. Truly like one of the beautiful paintings hanging from his walls, if only the little sheep in his care could revel in the beauty as he did. Now was not the time for such idle thoughts. He carefully lowered her onto his extravagant bed (truly one of the most lavish and comfortable ones to be found at the Inn he liked to think) and finally removed his hand from the back of her soft head when it rested on the largest pillow and he was convinced she would not wake. Vincent used both hands to bring the silk sheets up and over her to about shoulder length to keep her warm well into the morning. The sheep seemed to instantly take to this wonderfully cozy haven, twisting a bit and grabbing at pillows until she finally settled and became comfortable where she lay. Vincent watched with an arched eyebrow betraying his inner amusement, glancing back at the rest of the room to discover what his nightly accommodations would be. He finally decided there was only one solution to properly thank his guest, since even in his own personal sanctuary decency would dictate Miwa deserved her privacy. He made his way to his desk and grabbed onto the chair near it, fazing through the floor and reemerging in the hallway near the room. He set the chair against the wall to the left of the door, using his key to open it quietly so the doorway would be open. The vampire didn’t want the pretty girl to wake and think she was trapped, after all. Since he had nothing better to do before dawn came, he would sit and guard the sheep as if he were her shepherd. Vincent chuckled at the thought, but it was a pleasant enough of a notion to allow him to nod off for a few more hours…

Vincent will remain asleep unless something alerts him or until Miwa awakens in the morning.

[Lightlender]

There just may be a chance for me, my sweet INSANITY..

Disfigured Faces in Technicolor
The rats were scurrying again. He couldn't help but watch them, led about by their desire for sweet sustenance that could only be found within the annals of society. Useless things; the whole lot of them! Only vermin could make merry in their days of pestilence, rife with the filth of their sickening desires. He could smell them; he could taste them on the tip of his tongue and the flavor was a putrid one that rivaled that of bile. Why his beloved chose to nurture them was beyond his comprehension, too obscure a meaning lost in the rhyme and riddle of things for his keen mind to conquer. Baron chose not to waste away his mentality on such things, instead watching the city shuffle awake from the enormous glass window of the top-floor. His chair was plush white leather and comfortable; there was no need to immerse himself amidst the rabble, mingling with the ignorant masses that knew not the enormity of a god amongst men. That is what he was now, a god in transition, a deity-to-be. Now that he had finally fallen back into his beloved's favor, he felt as though he could do anything—and he aimed to glean away the fleas and ticks that littered her precious, beautiful skin. In time, she too, would sparkle beneath the night sky as he did now. But until them, Baron could only sit cross-legged in his throne-like chair, reclined in the lap of self-made luxury which no man could deny.

Oh, how he loathed them, those rats. Every single step they took left an unmistakable scratching noise he simply couldn't ignore. In time, the collected clamor of it all left him with a headache and irritable. Yet they never stopped, never ceased their incessant scrabbling, never rested, and never left him a moment's peace. As though gnawing at the back of his sanity, they continued boring a hole in the whole of his equilibrium and left the man with nothing more than an absolute rage that poured out from him like a tumultuous flood of molten lava. Did they not understand? She belonged to him and him alone! For the insolent wretches to think that they could share the city he loved was more than a remarkable – if not staggering – display of arrogance to behold. The fools they were, had no idea of who truly loved this city for what she was, held absolutely no clue of what sinuous touches could make her moan or what strokes warmed her most unmentionable places until thoroughly damp with the sweet moisture of lust. They knew nothing of his love of her, nor of his impassioned hatred of them. But they would learn.

They would learn.

Baron Oswald was not without compassion, however. Quite the contrary. He was a very passionate man, albeit tortured by his own charitable mercy. That was his problem, really. He was too quick to forgive, to easily drawn to acts of absolute generosity. But he simply couldn't change himself, chained to the fact that whenever crossed in any way, he would find the quickest way to resolve the issue. For instance, he once had a secretary who always spilled his coffee on the way to work. And although she often replaced it with her own, Baron realized her carelessness one day and offered her the kindest act he knew—he pierced the poor girl's throat with a dull letter opener and watched the creamy red fluid bubble up from where he carved her a fresh set of gills. She seemed surprised when he looked into her eyes, stunned by the fact that her words were gargled out through the irony taste of her own blood. She should have expected it, really—she ******** up on his order. He asked for espresso. Oh, and that did remind him of her replacement. Only about a week in, Baron remembered the feeling of her warm throat when he squeezed the breath right out of it and crushed her neck. She left a typo in his retouched business cards. He may have regretted losing them, but there was never an excuse for ignorance. But what else could he expect from monkeys who had yet to learn that there was more to life than simply flinging their filthy excrement to and fro.

What made things worse was that they were everywhere in his lovely city. Like scattered roaches fluttering along the wall once the light switched on, humans ran and hid their sins in broad daylight, hoping and praying that deliverance would somehow find them from the hands of a benevolent god. Such malignant folly. It made his lungs sink into a place where they weren't supposed to be, dipping into insufferable warmth that melted the icy core surrounding his heart. The heated pressure would come to a boil and seep up through his body, exiting the man's thin pallid lips as a gusty puff of steam. "Sophia," He scarcely uttered a sound, his thin lips forming the syllables in breathless silence. The cue cast, she appeared from the shadows of the room—a gorgeous young girl clad in a navy pantsuit. Her steps were light, mirroring the small demeanor she carried with her. In her hands was a small glittering bag, filled with glowing morsels of every color. She opened it and knelt between his legs as he uncrossed them, feebly offering a gummy bear to his lips. Baron smiled, one of the few times he ever did such a thing—but knowing the misery Sophia suffered in silent subservience warmed him in a way that a stiff drink never could. She loathed him with everything she had, yet here she was…serving him a fruit snack on her knees. Life was truly ironic, was it not?

"Mm. Delectable. Very good, Sophia." He hummed, rolling the tender gel along his tongue before catching between his fangs and biting down. It was truly delicious; Baron liked sweet things. They were the closest things to perfection that man had come to invent. Nonetheless, there was an unsavory element here that ruined his snack. Baron's frosted brows lifted in a nondescript look of contempt. "Sophia, how long hast thou served me? Six, perhaps seven years since I…liberated thee?" The girl nodded silently, bowing her head with her eyes respectfully shut to avoid looking at his radiance directly. Do so would have only defiled her master and roused his anger She had learned quickly that there was only one being in this world worthy to gaze upon Baron, and one alone. His hand gently leafed through her soft red hair, pulling it out of the loose bun she kept it in, allowing the fiery ringlets to spill down past her shoulders. She blushed with anguish, annoyed and thankful in the same breath. His words were like venom, bitter and sour, but to have them meant that death was staved off a day longer. "Yet thee still canst fathom my love of sweet things…" he mused, suddenly tightening his nimble fingers in her gorgeous red hair. He yanked her up by it, lifting the poor woman off her knees as he pulled her face closer into his lap. She pushed violently at his knees and hips, her tiny arms hardly a match for Baron's unseemly strength that held her there. His eyes were like burning coals, sparkling in the darkness of the room. Like a demon's, they glowed with an unearthly lavender light that struck her lungs with a blistering chill and froze her breath where it was. He was angry; she could tell in how his usually soft voice slowly became twisted and gnarled as he spoke. "Do tell your lord and master how you have failed him so, how his compassion for thee could become littered with hatred which he hath resisted far too long? Tell me this, Sophia…before my composure is thoroughly lost…" he seethed, an unheard of crispiness tearing into his words to the point they felt like a cat's sandpaper tongue. She felt her words clustering together in her throat, as there was so much she wanted to say in her own defense, yet fear would not permit her to breathe while transfixed by his piercing glare. It was as if he'd turned her to stone in the most painful way, allowing her to slowly suffocate while still alive. It was all she could do to choke out helpless sobs as salty tears streamed her cheeks in a silent plea for her life.

His hand pulled away from her hair, carelessly letting a small black needle slip from his fingertips to fall softly to the cream-colored carpeting, only lightly dabbed with the blood from the needle's tip. Sophia knew those needles well. They spelled death for all those stung by them, either willingly or unwillingly. In time, everyone who felt her master's loving 'touch' served their purpose in their capacity. She was no longer favored; she was just another pawn to his schemes. Slowly, Baron smiled again and reclined into the creaking leather. "There, now. All is forgiven, Sophia. See? Your lord doth cherish you greatly and his mercy is everlasting…" Sophia's eyes softened, darkening as her pupils grew to fill their jade green depths, blotting out the whites like some grand eclipse. As though pierced and left to bleed, her eyes became entirely black and devoid of expression. It was dark where Sophia went, cloaked in the bleak nothingness Baron forced into her heart through his venomous spike. Not a word echoed within the void, no matter how loudly she screamed and protested such harsh punishment. She couldn't move, for the blackish ink surrounding her was viscous and as petrified as ice. Only Baron's words reached her here in this solitary cell, bringing the truth of her predicament to light through every dark syllable spoken from the man's forked tongue. Baron's smile turned sour, not so much a frown as it was a look of indifference. "Begone, Sophia."

The girl felt herself moving out of accord, as though puppeteered away by invisible strings. She rose like a zombie, wordlessly and without a sound, and stalked back off toward the empty shadows. Sophia was gone now, forever Isolated within her very soul. But she didn't leave the room, otherwise the silence of Baron's thoughts would have resumed. No, Sophia's legs carried her a good distance before pausing to turn around and quickly sprint back past Baron's immaculate desk, whirring past fast enough to send his a few papers fluttering in disarray. Then Sophia found her freedom as she took flight, leaping boldly into the glass window, through it, and out the other side. Baron's spell was only intended for those few fleeting seconds where, in mid air, Sophia's consciousness returned and allowed her the unparalleled terror he intended to savor—his lips pulling upward until his face split and revealed a deeper grin behind several rows of serrated teeth coated in venomous dripping saliva. She flailed and went into spasm in mid air, struggling to painfully twist her body backwards as sharp glass danced along her flesh like razor-sharp glittering confetti that sliced skin open upon contact. Baron watched it all through theatrical slow motion, the sparkling remnants of his once majestic view of the city now fluttering before his eyes like fireflies in the night. So very beautiful, he thought. That Sophia would use her final moments to show him such a spectacular display of human resilience was truly moving, enough to list Baron from his chair to move closer to the ledge, ignoring the chilled rainy wind that blew in from outside. She hung there, her fingers sliced open by the shards of split glass she clung to for dear life. Her body was shredded and bleeding profusely, gushing with enough crimson to paint her dark work-suit a lucid red.

"Baron! Don't do this! Don't do this to me! I've served you all this time!! All these years! PLEASE!!" she gasped, choking on fright and the salty rain water pouring into her hands as she screamed up at him. She gripped his leg, smearing blood stains into his impeccable white paints. Baron frowned, causing Sophia's terror to swell inside her chest. His eyes narrowed.

"Oh, dearest child of virtue and promise. Thou hadst returned me to the place of my youth for only a moment, just now…" His expression turned severe. "…only to truly stagnate the beauty of such tragedy through feeble pleas. How dare you touch me, layering your filth, your stench, your reviled countenance upon my person! Did I not say for thee to depart from here?!" Baron roared, his typically gentle voice ringing high above the pattering rain of the morning, blasting out like an arrangement of trumpets. Without warning, Baron kicked her hand, slicing off a few of her fingers when they pressed deep into the glass. The poor girl let out a soul-shattering cry of pain and regret, a sound easily lost as she fell into the world of A.M. traffic and mundane ordinance. Baron would only watch her for half of her descent before his attention shifted elsewhere. "See, thy servant is truly compassionate for your most noble cause…My Beloved." He spoke into the chilly wind pouring in, although his words were meant for another pair of ears, spoken lovingly as he stroked a small white ball cradled in his arms like a child. He turned away from the fractured window, glancing down as the phone rang. He hit the speakerphone.

"Mr. Oswald, The Orion Group representative is on line one. You have a noon lunch appointment with their President they'd like to confirm, and there's a three o'clock meeting with the chairman of Lander Holdings. What should I tell them, sir?"

Baron whisked a hand through his perfect hair, sighing. This city never stopped writhing in blissful agony. Nonetheless, he would be the one to bring her to the absolute climax. The foolish monkeys could lap up the excess.

"Confirm all appointments for the day, Marguerite."




--- From the rolling hills of suicide, everyone will run and hide◄◄◄◄

[Ms Silver Lining]

Halloween night was a party! Even though Miwa wasn't participating in a large celebration. The only company she had was Bob, stuff animals, and sweets. What more could she ask for? The head chef kept her mind off of Kiyoshi with pleasant conversation and food kept her body as energized as the silly Energizer Bunny. It was all the sheep needed. Company and food. They allowed very little room for the narrow-minded sheep to think of anything else. In moments where things got quite and Bob fell silent she entertained them by putting on a play with the stuffed animals he'd given her. She was very excited when Bob gave her them but when it began to get late Miwa left them where he had taken them from. She couldn't carry them around with her and she couldn't take them back to her room. At first she passed out at the bar with her cheek pressed comfortably on her small arm. Surprisingly, she never fell out of her seat. She assured Bob that Kiyoshi would return to her after he finished with the strange female. She didn't sleep for long on the high stole and woke up to a quite dinning hall and an aching back. Her bunny tail twitched as she looked around the room for Kiyoshi. After concluding he would not return for the night she silently slid from her seat and took a gamble at trying to find her room on her own. If he weren't going to come to her she would go to him. She didn't care what kind of passionate lust he was caught up in, she was going to kick that woman out of their room and sleep in a bed.

She meant every one of her thoughts and had every intention to follow them. She didn't care if Val was with Kiyoshi performing the monkey dance; she was going to sleep in her own bed and that's all that mattered. That's all she wanted. Which wasn't true but she wouldn't admit that to herself. Her plain surely fell short of the goal for not very long after leaving the bar she was lost. She didn't think it would be that hard to find her room. All she needed to find were the stairs and follow them up to the next floors but she never came across them. It was silly, really. If she could just stop thinking about Kiyoshi and Val she'd be able to think enough to know that all she had to do was turn around and make a right instead of a left. When she was just about to stumble across the front lobby she bumped into a very tall male. Unique's smile was a relief. Finding anyone with a sense of direction that was better then her own was fantastic. However, finding Unique was a double-ended sword for she forgot her reason to rush and get to her room. So, instead of asking Unique to help her find her room she asked if she knew of a place comfortable to sleep. She was then guided to the living room where she finally figured out that Unique was in fact a female. Miwa shared stories as if she were reading Unique bedtime stories. She couldn't quite remember when she fell asleep but she did. She pulled her cape over her small body and folded her limbs close to her body.

A Dream/Reality:

Her dreams were sweet. She danced in Candy Land, swam down chocolate rivers, played with Umpalumpas, and more! She was in a real Alice in Wonderland ball! Her bodies reaction to the room temperature didn't go unnoticed. Her kingdom of candy all turned cold and made her shudder and wonder where the heat go. Causing her hand to reach absentmindedly for her cap and pulling it closer. When she was lifted from her resting place sub consciously she thought Kiyoshi came to find her. Her conscious wouldn't allow her to believe this cold touch could possibly belong to Kiyoshi. Kiyoshi's character might have been cold but his body was utter warmth that sent her into bliss. She grinned and pressed her head against her carrier anyway. "Nyuu," she cooed in her sleep reaching for a large pillow next to her after being placed in a bed. She pulled the pillow close without questioning how it came to be. She wiggled deeper into the blankets and pillows to wrap herself in warmth. "Nomnumnum," she mumbled playfully chewing the pillow she wrapped her legs around. It was amazing that she wasn't suffocating under all the pillows and comforters.

A Dream:

"Good! Now spin an-" A flutter of flashes blinded the smiling fox for two seconds as she turned on the sit to look up at a butterfly. The fan blowing up her dress was a bit chilly and spots danced in her sight but she managed to get the picture the photographer was looking for. She was finishing a photo shoot for Foxy Lady Magazines. It wasn't a huge magazine but if she could get her face out there as a model she took the job. It also gave her a reason to change into a body that looked like a fox. "Great, I think were done here. Lovely job Lee Lee." The photographer grinned and the female called Lee Lee giggled as she skipped from the set. Behind the clutter of workers was Kiyoshi leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of him. "What do you think Kiyoshi? Was it good?" Lee Lee asked as she leaned over to pick up her bottle of water. She was extremely hot for some reason. She looked over her shoulder and back to Kiyoshi who hadn't answered her. "Don't worry about him Kiyoshi. His just a photographer doing his job." She spun around only to yelp as his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. Now this wasn't right. She didn't remember this memory going like this. The shepherd dropped his head on her shoulder and breathed hot air across her neck. "Kiyoshi," she mumbled feeling the power of her own body slip just beyond her fingertips.

She was suddenly heavy and light flooded across her vision. Why was she sweating? Where was she?

Dream over:

Deep dark lavender eyes slowly began to open under all the sheets and covers she twisted and burrowed herself under. She rubbed the back of her hand over her sweaty forehead where dark brown locks pasted themselves to her skin. She felt so nasty! Her legs slid across one another creating more heat and moister. She was trying to keep calm under the heavy blankets but the unknown soon led her to panic. Miwa had a small fit and kicked and shoved her hands and feet in all directions trying to brake free. She found her footing against the bed but her legs were twisted in the sheets and she fell face forward with her bottom in the air. A fluffy brown tail wiggled through the sheets and found the fresh cool air faster then she would. As soon as she felt the cold air blow on her hot skin she stopped moving to process it. She wiggled her butt and crawled backwards until her leg slipped off the side of the bed along with the rest of her. She fell on her side with her feet still tangled in the silk sheets. A little winded she rolled on her back, twisting the sheet further around her ankle, and basked in the chilly air. "Aaa!" Her fox ears twitched and turned back as her eyes began to focus on the room. How in the world she managed to get lost under a few sheets and a blanket was beyond her. Her tail tapped the floor lazily, idly waiting for her to recuperate. 'That's why I was hot.' She pulled her purple shirt up to give her belly some air, but no higher. She caught the slow motion of her tail from the corner of her eyes, realizing she must have changed to the model she used to be a long time ago.

The thought of her old name Lee-Lee was amusing.

This wasn't good. This body was bigger then the girl she had chosen to be for Halloween. Her long sleeve purple shirt was now skintight. Her black skirt was now too short to pass Kiyoshi's modesty test and her stockings stopped just past her knees. The way they squeezed her lower thighs was most uncomfortable. She sat up, yanking her foot free, and began to remove them while looking around the room. "Kore wa dare no heya de aroka." She slipped her last stocking off and dropped them next to her.

[Vincent W Sinnet]

A large cigar stuck out from between long yellowed teeth which were framed by even bigger tusks. Then end of it burned nearly as brightly as the red eyes attached to that same green face covered in hideous scars. Long pointed green ears were adorned with all kinds of piercings, some having trophies of previous kills strung on or some just scavenged and shiny. Nothing covered the head, just a bald cap, wrinkled and misshapen due to the scars and natural rough texture of the green skin. This whole head sat on a massive green body seemingly made of nothing but tremendous green muscle. The body was hunched, so the shoulders actually sat higher than the head most of the time. Scrap metal attached here and there to the shoddily stitched leather adornment covering the body. Dark gray trousers and heavy boots with with spiked plates attached to them mimicked his own tusked smile. Straps of ammunition covered his body and a large tank was strapped onto his back with a tube running to the long weapon in his big hand with yellowed nails long and pointy enough to be considered claws.

This was the Ork Uzag Earfskorcha, big, green and dangerous as they come. His hideous tusked smile painting the wanted posters wherever he went and constantly chased after by the agents of CLOAK, not that they could even hope too keep up with Uzag's supercharged Warbike, which sat nor far from Uzag himself, crashed through the wall that Uzag drove it into. Uzag stood in the middle of the living room of some suburban household, he didn't know who it belonged too exactly, but he looked tuff enough. His bike was puny though, crushed so easily beneath the massive bulk of Uzag's warbike before he decided to crash into his house. Though it was after he decided to roast up the little Snotz muckin' about outside. Subtlety wasn't Uzag's strength but he did his best to keep his footfalls light as he crept through the house with his Burna pointed forward. The squishy little Oomie was hiding 'round here somewhere.

The sound of Uzag's footsteps weren't inaudible though, but muffled enough that there was some confused scurrying about upstairs that Uzag could hear once he stepped up the last stair. A door at the end of the hallway cracked open a bit and a voice from behind it whispered out "Alex? Jessie? Is that you?" With a wide grin Uzag charged the the door and launched it and the man behind it across the room. Uzag quickly chucked aside the door, leaving the Ooman before him, he was fairly muscular, bald with various tattoos. Despite this genuine panic filled the mans eyes at the sight of Uzag. "Wot? You don' mean dese lil' snotz do ya?" Uzag slung over a pair of charred corpses that he strung up with some rope. The carcasses were oddly child sized.

The man before Uzag was suddenly overcome with emotion which all managed to twist into rage after a moment. Maybe it would be enough to stop being a little coward and put up a fight. The man threw a punch but Uzag dropped the roasted children to catch the mans arm in his meaty hand. All it took was a little bit of effort and the man's arm snapped in Uzag's fist. The man yelled, but not nearly as loud as he did after Uzag put his boot on the man's chest and pulled hard. His arm came off real nice, loud cracking and tearing sounds accompanying the act. The man was far beyond fighting back, tossing the arm aside Uzag pointed his Burna at the man and letting a wave of fire wash over him and everything near him. Uzag chuckled as he watched the man do the Burny dance for a while, before snatching him and lighting a new cigar off of his flaming corpse. Then with a shove the burning man took a trip off the second story window.

Uzag took the two burnt up kids he had roped together and tied the rope around his neck, wearing them like a necklace. Then he strolled down the stairs and jammed his Burna tank into a slot for it and locked it into place on his bike. Uzag saddled up and backed up out the hole he made in the house, the nozzle of the burna still in his hand, he torched up everything on his way out just to finish the job. Uzag let out a confused grunt as he could hear sirens in the distance, turning his head he could see lights too. He remembered the sound, this was when the Oomans with any real firepower came out, if just a little. With a wide smile Uzag kick started his bike the rumble of the engine drowning out the sound of the sirens no matter how much closer they got. The exhaust spewed out a thick cloud of smog already, nearly completely fogging up Uzag's position.

With a loud roar that was audible even over the loud rumble of the bike's engine as Uzag shot off, not away but towards the bright lights and screaming sirens. The police in this area was already aware of Uzag's presence and at the slightest hint of trouble they didn't waste any time in sending the bulk of their officers. The man did certainly call the police and mentioned a big green monster that had been following him earlier that day, it was enough to catch their attention. It didn't take Uzag long to close the distance between him and the squad cars, his bike shooting down the street like lighting. When he could see the Oomies in the cars real clear he opened fire with his Dakkagunz, the loud and large bullets tearing easily through the squad cars. There was still a couple though, Uzag free'd his Big Choppa, one hand still controlling the bike. The massive axe dragged along the asphalt, sparking as it did so at such extreme speeds.

There was two cars on both sides of Uzag, he focused on the one on his right, he heaved up his big choppa and ran it through the the car as he passed, taking pieces of the car and most of the passengers neck with him. Uzag then punched it, going faster than the insane speeds he was going before. But after all, he had to slow down and show those Oomies they couldn't mess with Uzag Earfskorcha. But now it wouldn't be long before those CLOAK gitz started showing up, they usually showed up sooner than this, Uzag had been ravaging this suburban area for a while now. Uzag kept his speed up, heading down the long road with a large cloud of smog following him as he made his way into a New City. Though he wouldn't make it very far.

Some loud clunking noises came from his Bike, Uzag grunted in confusion. Then all of a sudden everything started spinning around, at least that's what it seemed like to Uzag as his bike suddenly started spinning out of control. Uzag was thrust off the bike as it Rocketed off and stuck itself into the soft ground outside some ramshackle building. Uzag pulled his head out of the ground and let out an annoyed growl. Uzag walked over to the bike and pulled off a bunch of metal plates that obscured the loud and large engine. Uzag started tinkering with it pulling out differen't metal know wotz and putting them back where he could.

[Yoshkun]

Dreams escaped Vincent on this little cat nap, as his deep crimson eyes fluttered open only an hour or two after he had sat down to rest; the sun had just barely peeked over the hilltops and it would be too early for the sheep to rise just quite yet. He leaned back a bit into the chair and folded his arms over his chest, quietly taking a moment to gather his thoughts before standing on his own two feet again. Luckily the man suffered from the ‘Cerano syndrome’, which simply meant a quick hand through his gorgeous black locks would ensure another day of perfection without the bother of meaningless preparation. Still, he needed to get some things taken care of before Miwa awoke so it wasn’t best to stand around preening himself when he could be busying himself elsewhere. So, without another moment to spare, the vampire phased into the remaining shadows draped across the carpet and attended to his own private business.

What Vincent did in those hours was his secret alone, but his senses were always fully honed on his room to make sure his guest slept comfortably and undisturbed. When he did return, the sheep had awakened to unexpected circumstances and now sat on the floor in a puzzled state while removing what appeared to be stockings. This simply would not do! Although his mind did linger on her appearance as he briefly observed her from the shadows, he decided it was best to look into the matter in person. Miwa would soon be greeted by the sudden arrival of a cushioned chair under her rear as if appearing magically from within the floor; strangely similar to the one Vincent had been sitting in hours before. It wouldn’t move her any, just put her in a more comfortable position and a more decent one to be approached from. She probably wouldn't concern herself about the mysteries of the ghost chair for too long as her arriving host now stood in the doorway; once again phasing through it as not to startle her even more so. He stood with his arms folded behind his back as if concealing something, his black bangs drooped over one eye while the other sparkled like a freshly cut ruby. His rosy lips were parted into a delight smile, which complimented his pale complexion marvelously to the point that he almost sparkled; not literally of course. That would be silly. “Good morning to you mademoiselle. I trust you slept well? Ah, forgive me where are my manners. My name is Vincent De Costello…but you may call me Vincent if you like. Don’t fret about your situation, you are safe in the Elysium Inn and I am no opposing shepherd nor do I wish harm upon you. Simply to thank you.” He strolled over to her effortlessly, bringing his arms forward and revealing a juicy apple in each hand. In the left hand was a green apple and the other was red, both of which he set near her on what little bed there was left to place it on. He didn’t seem the least bit perturbed that she had basically made his crimson silk sheeted bed into her furious lover for the night; sweat and all.”Here, these are fresh from Bob’s fruits and vegetable selection. I thought you might be hungry before breakfast. I hope you like apples.” He said with another pleased smile, stepping away and back over to the carpet in the center of the room to fully take in his feminine guest.

My, how the once adorable bunny rabbit had blossomed into a beautiful fox of her own in these few sweaty hours of dreaming. Her once glowing pink curls were now replaced with longer ones of auburn brown that dared to go past her slender shoulders, not to mention the similarly colored fox ears and tails that twitched and swayed to their own beat. Her attire had also drastically changed; her soft yet toned belly revealed by a notably tight purple long sleeved top cut short and a devilishly short black skirt that just left just enough of an imprint in the vampire’s imagination. She was so flawless in her adorable stares and charming beauty that he could have compared her to any of the fine art that hunt upon his walls, but instead showed his gratitude by letting the pleasant smile extend into a charming grin. Her perfection made it difficult to contain his own ravishing pheromones that ached to tickle her senses into fantasies of unspeakably passionate lust her body had yet to truly experience, but he kept them contained as best as he could...as that road would only cause him unneeded trouble for the moment. To gather all of these details would make it seem as if Vincent had been awing over her for several minutes now but in reality it only took him quick seconds to move to the next thought. His special gift from 'the darkness' was that of a razor sharp mind, which was truly the greatest weapon in a vampire’s arsenal.”…To answer your question and to help clarify things, you are in Room 10; otherwise known as my sanctuary. I happened across you in the living room when I was strolling about as I often do and noticed by chance you had my pendent safely secured in your care. I had…lost it, in a manner of speaking...earlier in the day and was frantic to find it. It belonged to my mother you see, and it’s very important to me. You seemed to be in a bit of pain from laying on such a small sofa and so cold as well, and seeing as I was ever so grateful to you for finding my cross for me, that I thought the only proper way to thank you was to allow you to use my room to perhaps sleep more peacefully. I don't personally use it during the night hours myself. I am pleased to see that you have enjoyed yourself in more ways than one it seems.” He remarked jokingly, noticing for the first time how truly twisted and wrinkled all of his sheets really were.

“I can sense your thoughts will soon rest with the shepherd, the one known as Kiyoshi. He is still sleeping with that…woman…and therefore I left a note upon his door. I simply said he could find you here or at breakfast. I thought if you were hungry beyond those apples I could lead you to the dining hall if you need some guidance, but you’re welcome to rest here or leave to attend your own matters if you wish. I will not stand in your way…I am simply in your debt.” Surprisingly, not a single word the gorgeous man spoke rang false. Besides his naturally dark features and clothing there seemed to be nothing sinister about her host, no evil presence lurking in the closet to drag Miwa away into the fiery depths of hell or anything of that sort to trouble a snoring Kiyoshi. The room itself was Leonardo Da Vinci’s wet dream, paintings and other forms of artwork from Italy, France, and Spain gave Room 10 a breath of life while the bright red wallpaper and crimson sheets gave it color. The piece of resistance however was the grand piano by the window, black in color and shimmering in the pale sunlight seeping through the blinds amongst the pitter patter of rain. All of this controlled and operated by the man standing only a few feet away. His cross pendant almost glimmering in the sunlight as well while neatly hanging upon the exposed portion of his chest, a true testament to how much he valued it in worth beyond that of material means. In any case, the vampire would remain standing with his arms folded across his chest and await any reply; whether it be vocal or just her storming out on her own. After his irritating experience with Tomahi, he wouldn’t be surprised either way.

[Lightlender]

'Cause it's almost like your heaven's trying EVERYTHING.

Disillusioned Memoirs: Legendary Hero or Insufferable b*****d?

"There were times in my life where I really didn't know a whole lot. I just stumbled through my days, months, and years oblivious as a child. What I wanted, I took. What I didn't like, I destroyed. I broke it into small pieces you couldn't even recognize and scattered that s**t to the wind. There were times where I went wherever I wanted—and some days I just wandered aimlessly, bringing chaos to the doorstep of everyone I came across…"

The rain fell. It soaked him through his thick hooded sweat shirt, chilling him to the bone.

"You know, people always idolize the 'renegade' for some strange reason. That s**t ain't easy, you know. It's tough living a life where you're not wanted, unloved, and unnecessary. A life where you're neither cherished as a good guy – which I'm not – or forgiven for being the scoundrel you are. If life's taught me anything, it's that renegades are lonely and miserable. God knows I was. Still am. These streets keep my constant company though, even if everyone else has forgotten the legend I once was. That's life, though. When it gives you lemons, you make ******** vodka."

He took to the back-alleys, where overhanging eaves and fire escapes provided momentary shelter. At least he could warm his hands with some hobos in front of their lit trashcan.

"Say, do you know the difference between a messiah and a pariah? It's pretty simple, really. It's ******** syllable. One syllable that separates holiness from lowliness. Other'n that, the two words are fairly interchangeable. In the end, after all is said and done, both are scripted into the background to die out in relative squalor. Jesus did. So did I. In the long run, all that matters is the legacy you leave behind. That alone determines whether or not your actions were worthwhile. It's all one big popularity contest, man. If they like you, they tie a religion around your a** and write a couple of books in your favor. If they don't like you, you end up warming your ******** hands with some dudes who smell like s**t and sweaty gym-socks. Ain't life grand?"

After a few minutes, the hooded traveler slipped back in his patch-work gloves and departed from the alley and back into the rain without any clear destination. His life was like this. He walked until something prompted to stop, usually hunger or fatigue between days of travel without adequate rest. Otherwise, he really had no reason to grant himself a moment's ease. He didn't deserve it.

"You know what? I'm getting hungry. Wanna know why that sucks? I'll tell you; it's because I can't just stop at Burger King and grab up a few Whoppers. I can't 'have it my way' anymore. I'm cursed, living on borrowed time. See, I should have died well over a hundred years ago. I'm only alive because of some twisted joke my creator's playing on me, I suppose. Some running gag that just won't ******** end. It must be really funny, although I've yet to laugh once. Maybe my funny bone's broken. I like to think that If there's really an actual 'god' out there – not just another powerful poser – then I'd like to choke the omnipotent son of a b***h to death. I'm tired. And this s**t just isn't fair anymore. I want to die, already."

He stopped again for a second, eyeing a nearby restaurant turning on its business lights for the day. But when he tried to enter, it didn't seem to matter how much money he carried on him. The managers quickly shooed him out due to his haggard appearance being likely to scare away other customers. The traveler would have raised his voice, would it have done him any good. He shrugged, offered a middle finger, and continued on.

"Okay, don't get me wrong. I must really sound like a pessimist, but I'm not. I've learned along my travels that the only thing you have is the hope for a better day and lemme tell ya, I've been in some very SHITTY situations. I've died several times, only to come back to life somehow. I've fought gods and somehow ended up with all my Mr. Potato-head Pieces intact. And I've had so many children that the child-support could eat me alive. Sound strange? Buddy, I'm several hundred years old. I had to sew my oats before I required the use of a pill to get it up. Huh? No, that s**t's not funny. Of COURSE my tool still works fine. What are you, a pervert? You're getting me off track, here. Stop talking to me when I'm tryin' to remember my point, okay…?"

Cars kept splashing him, even though he was far from the curb. He started to think that the jackasses were doing it on purpose, since it seemed universally fun to antagonize the homeless in just about every culture. Tactless sons of bitches.

"So yeah, back to optimism. It's really a one-way street, y'know. If you keep following it, you eventually get where you're going. The tricky part is to continue walking in the same direction. Every once in a while, s**t comes along that makes you wanna deter to a different path. Say, for instance, dickheads who keep splashing you when you're just walkin' in the rain, mindin' your own ******** bees wax. s**t like that makes you just wanna leap on top of their fancy PT Cruisers, rip the goddamn roof off, and take a flaming s**t all over everyone inside—because at LEAST one of those ******** could have stopped the driver from hitting that puddle at an deliberate angle. I could probably rip that hood right off; I may look homeless, might BE homeless, but I'm the strongest hobo you've probably ever met. I've killed a god before. But I digress…"

By the time he neared the heart of downtown and passed by Center Park, only the remnants of the previous night's party remained; littered scraps of paper, napkins and plates, and half-finished food tossed carelessly away to sit until the rain came. One could see his desire through the faceless shadow that hid his face from view; he was starving to death, literally. If only physical sustenance could provide some form of solace. He'd have grabbed up the food like a roach, scurrying madly from piece to piece. But for him, such a thing was futile. He required a different kind of food.

"So like I was saying, I can't eat. It'd just sit in my belly for a few hours then drop in an unmentionable way. You could say I'm undead, but since I'm neither alive nor deceased—it gets complicated at times. I'm what's called 'youkai'. It's a Japanese word. And although I'm half-Korean and half-Japanese, I've never known a word of either language. Does that make me an idiot? Heh, you'd probably reconsider if you knew my whole story, but we just don't have enough time for me to tell you everything. To make a long story short, I eat souls. Not figuratively—literally. I kill people, things, animals…whatever…and I swallow up their souls in order to survive. Don't worry, it's not as horrible as it sounds. I'm not heartless, not entirely, so I try to make my kills as painless as possible. At one point in my life, I used to be compassionate like that. I like to try to retain some semblance of humanity…if that makes sense."

"b***h, where's my money? You hear me, b***h? I want my ********' dividends!" If you wandered long enough in New City, you were bound to run across its more unsavory districts where pimps and dealers were paramount. The yelling didn't bother the traveler. He was prepared to completely pass the dark alley by when the sound of a thunderous slap and a muted cry for help reached his ears. The wanderer stopped cold.

"Sometimes s**t just doesn't make sense. Take me, for instance. If I saved this b***h, nobody'd ever give me an ounce of gratitude. Being a hero has always been a thankless endeavor. I could walk away—pretend that some guy didn't just slap a tooth out of her face—but we both know I won't. I can't. I've never been able to truly turn away the helpless, even though I know deep down that this chick probably earned every ounce of the beating she was undoubtedly about to get from our heavy-handed friend. Probably slept with a John for the hell of it and decided she could make up the short-change elsewhere by overcharging, only to realize that her plan was fundamentally flawed. Hell, the guy she slept with probably had a big d**k and she needed a good lay for once. Girls do love good d**k. But let's be serious. I'm not going to just stand here. I'm going to do what I always do…whether I like it or not."

"Hey," The ragged stranger muttered, his voice salty and old. It used to be melodic, one could tell—but now it was gnarled and tired. The goons – there were three of them – turned to gaze into the street; most of them were gaudily dressed as lower echelon mafia mooks. Faceless target practice for the made-men and high-rollers. One of them fixed his lips to say something clever. He never got the words out. His teeth were already spilling down his throat with a quick rush of blood. He doubled back and sank to his knees, clutching his busted-face in disbelief while his buddies just stood there, dumbfounded. "No, don't get up. I'll just let myself in."

"I'm a bona fide hero. Or, at least, I like to think I am. People have told me I'm delusional and maybe I am. I just can't let go of the past, I guess. It feels good to be a shining-armored knight, even if you look like a homeless bum. Gotta admit, it felt too ******** good to feed this guy his teeth and spout off a one-liner. Hey, do you think I'm narcissistic when I say stuff like that? Don't misjudge me, man. I'm the real ******** deal. I used to be a legend. Trust me. I used to be a lot more powerful than I am now, but I kinda went on a 'fast' a few years back and that ******** my metabolism all sorts of sideways. You see, I really don't like eating souls. It makes me feel like a parasite, even though that's what I am. Something that shouldn't exist anymore. I should take back what I said earlier, shouldn't I? I really DON'T want to die. There's something I feel I've left unfinished. And even though I don't remember what it is anymore; I just know that it remains to be done. I can't die before then. I won't die before then."

One of the goons got smart, or as smart as he was capable. He pulled a gun and popped off a shot that pierced right through the shorter traveler, causing the hooded stranger to stagger back only a step. Another shot rang out, clearly hitting the figure where the heart should have been. Nonetheless, the weathered hobo stood, unflinchingly still as though dead on his feet. "Nine millimeter, huh? Maybe you need a bigger gun. I'm sure there's still a pawn shop somewhere near here if you hurry." The man shot him again, now with signs of panic creeping onto his face. Why wasn't this guy falling down?

"No, I'm not Clark Kent in my spare time. Those bullets really are hitting me…and it hurts like a b***h. I just don't care. I mean, look at me. What the ******** else do I have to live for? Do you really think it matters if these guys get lucky and gun down a homeless idiot who tried in vain to protect some hooker? No. It won't matter. I'll go down as another measly statistic. I can hear the headlines already: 'In today's news, a homeless man is discovered dead in a downtown alley. Police are still searching for the suspects and possible motive'. Them's the brakes I was tellin' you about. Messiah and pariah? They're one in the same. When I think about the pointlessness behind my own existence, how I'll probably get revived or rehashed, or whatever…I just don't give a ******** if these guys make me look like swiss cheese. I'm ******** invincible in my little corner of hell. Saving this chick who still has the scent of smegma on her upper lip? That's the only ray of hope I have these days…that my good deeds might warrant me a slightly colder corner in Hades when my time finally DOES come. I told you, didn't I? I'm a ******** optimist."

Realizing his bullets had no effect, despite the deluge of blood slithering down the bum's legs like a fine glaze on a holiday ham, the goon simply hurled the gun. The bum caught it with ease, fired off a single shot, and pushed the would-be pimp's brains back roughly three inches, spackling the brick-work of the nearby apartment house. It looked something like throwing raw ground beef against the wall, allowing it to drip all the way down. "Oh, never mind. This gun's not so bad, after all." the odd man muttered, shrugging as he dropped the pistol with an air of general indifference.

"For the record, I don't like killing. It may not look like it, but at one point I had a strict policies about avoiding murder if at all possible. I also loathed guns. Meh. Times change. Wasting sacks of s**t like these guys is almost nothing to me now. I'd say it actually WAS nothing, but deep in the back of my mind, I know these idiots are leaving behind families, maybe children and wives. But you know what? Who the ******** cares? I'd kill an eight-year old if the little ******** decided to go Lone Ranger on me and bust a few caps. Hell, I'd kill my own mom if she did that. What makes these guys some special exception to my rules? Maybe in the next life, when they're reincarnated as something ******** retarded—like mosquitoes or whatever—they'll think twice about ******** with somebody like me. And if not, I'll just have to squish them again like the ******** insects they are. What? You don't like my rationale? Well deal with it. You're stuck listening to me until I'm finished with what I have to say. Might as well sit back and relax…"

It was almost as if he weren't committing random acts of murder with extreme prejudice. Somehow, it was like second-nature, an art in and of itself. He was a painter, murder was his brush, and death were the fine oils he coated it with for the most beautiful strokes one would expect to grace the canvas. At some point, the girl screamed. Loudly. It was like the ringing siren of a fire engine. So the hobo turned and let his back-hand fly, slapping the voice clean out of her. "Shut the [********] up, willya? I'm trying to save your stupid a**." Never before had the girl found herself suddenly whimpering like a mouse, trying her hardest to keep her sobs to herself. Not since the fourth grade when she brought home a horrible report card to her father, at least. That was when the last remaining goon lunged out with a knife he pulled from god-knows-where.

"A knife? You gotta be kidding me. Who does this moron think he is? John Rambo? Didn't he just see his friend try to shoot me, only to end up looking like last night's leftover lasagna? I swear, I'll never understand humans. These guys baffle me to no end. No matter what they see, no matter what they believe in, they always fall back into doing some seriously ******** s**t in the end. I mean, a knife? Seriously? I'd have been more appreciative if he just tried to run up and punch me in the nose. Oh well, not everybody can be as smart as Oprah Winfrey and know when to just shut the ******** up and go away. You know, there've been a ton of times where I wonder why I'm not able to be the one to fade to black. I do all sorts of reckless s**t like this, all the damn time. Yet, somehow, I'm always left staring up at the sky, bleeding out all my blood, knowing that no matter what happens…I just won't die. It's kinda agonizing really. Part of me wonders just what death feels like. Well, one thing's for certain. Mr. Stabby-face isn't going to teach me that lesson. Not with his Junior G.I. Joe Commando knife he saved up all his cereal box tops for. I'd never forgive myself if I go down by getting gutted by that dinky little thing…"

The stranger turned into the blade, caught the man's wrist with his left hand, struck a chop to the goon's throat with his right, tugged the fools chin down into a rising knee-cap, stepped in, braced the elbow, and simply bent the man's arm backward and snapped it like a dry twig.

It didn't stop there.

The man in rags slung the two-bit thug back around like a worn-out dish towel and palmed his face, running him sharply up against the brick wall—swiftly enough to make the man's head bobble awkwardly like those silly dolls. He spun with the poor soul, tossing him into the air for a moment before following him up, snaring his throat in a vice-like grip, and vehemently drove him back into the ground with enough force to crack the pavement ever-so-slightly. A sharp gust blew out from the impact, scattering various candy wrappers and making the rats scurry from their meals. When it was all said and done, the goon lay in a pool of his own blood, twitching and convulsing in a jittery mass of Kentucky Fried Nerve Cells. The stranger didn't finish him off. That took far too much effort. Instead, he turned to the girl—who looked as though she'd soiled herself, judging by the huge wet stain down the front of her cut-off short-shorts and the glistening substance all the way down her thighs. "…'ey, you alright?" She answered him the way any woman would after such a display. She screamed bloody murder and ran like a bat out of hell. Although his face was concealed, there was no doubt that the man looked confused.

"See, that's the s**t I'm talkin' about. No gratitude at all. I must have spilled a whole gallon of my marinara sauce. I'll probably collapse from blood loss, soon. I already feel faint. But what does she do? She panics and runs away screaming. Now I'm kind of glad I slapped the dumb b***h, as vindictive as it sounds. I might never wash this hand again in memory of the event. Wait, no…I scratched my balls before all this. I'm definitely washing my hand first chance I get. What? Why're you lookin' at me like that? Everybody scratches their balls every now and again. It's perfectly natural, dammit. Don't act like you don't. Anyhow, her running away made my job much easier. I didn't want anyone to see what I was about to do, what I HAD to do in order to siphon just a few more sand grains from the hourglass of time. I never wanted anyone to see the monster I had become. I'm an optimist, remember? Instead of brooding about it, I'd simply do my dirt in the shadows and live with the consequences of my actions. Isn't that what optimism really is? Just a method of coping with the s**t you really can't change? It's a point of view, I think. Right?"

At long last, the alley was quiet again. The rats could resume their feast in relative silence while the homeless figure clad in tattered clothes knelt over one of the deceased men. With a sharp thrust, he buried his fist into the chest, plunging in as though his hand were as sharp as a knife and miraculously bypassed the bone entirely. Then something unusual happened. He pulled back, his forearm coated with blood, and withdrew a small circular object that was neither heart, lung, nor any other identifiable organ anyone could recognize. In fact, it glowed bright blue like a light and looked more like a softball-sized Hershey's Kiss with a little tadpole tail dangling out the top. And without a second thought, his mouth split apart at the jaw and swelled large, revealing a literal abyss lined with fangs. It dislodged, allowing greater access and a ghastly hiss echoed from the other side of wherever, pulling the glowing orb in like a vacuum. Then everything reset, allowing the traveler a moment to belch and pat his stomach. He repeated the process again for another of the two, but while he did—the first struck goon (who only suffered the loss of teeth) found the gun laying on the ground. "I wouldn't. I left you alive on purpose." he warned. The man opened fire anyway.

"Best three snacks I've had in a while. Y'know, I tried to take it easy and keep with my diet and all. But when food's begging to be eaten, who am I to deny it? Anyhow, I never did find that hooker. Not that I went looking. I could care less about sex. I haven't gotten laid in over a decade or so and I don't plan on p***y just falling into my lap any time soon. Last chick I did the horizontal tango with got knocked up with my kid. It's a pity. I kinda liked her. She smelled like berries, pineapples, grapefruits, and s**t. Real aromatic-like. Tasted like it too. Making love to her was like sticking my d**k in a package of Kool-aid every time. Wait, maybe that's a poor analogy…I mean, I DID love the girl after all and it just didn't do her any real respect in saying it that way. Sorry. What? I'm a b*****d? No, I didn't leave her because I wanted to. I left her because of what's wrong with me. If I stuck around, I would have destroyed her life. I ruin the lives of every woman I love. It's a curse, I tell ya. No, I'm not emo. I don't feel sorry for myself, man. I feel sorry for the wonderful women who fall in love with me; they don't deserve the bullshit that comes along with me. Specifically one woman, in particular. But that, like Conan the Barbarian, is another story…"

He was wandering again, back on the endless trail leading to nowhere in particular. But at least his belly was full and his desire to vent his frustrations abated slightly. That was when he chanced upon unfamiliar aromas, not of this world…but not quite far from it either. Smelled something similar before in his journeys, a congregation of demons, specters, ghouls, and other assorted creatures that made the night go bump. Imagine his surprise, stumbling across another Inn for people of his kind! Although he reeked of travel, sweet, and purely body odor that clung to his clothes, he decided to step inside and take a look. With any luck, someone might be able to take him in and finally allow him a bath after being filthy for so long. He entered the large doors, sighed, and pulled back his hood to reveal a rather young dark-skinned face framed with black cat-like ears. It was evident that he rarely smiled; a lingering scowl was on his face, although he was hardly upset at the moment. He had only one eye, as blue as the morning sky, where the other was covered by an ominous black eye-patch. He glanced around, feeling somewhat lost and unsure. "…um…hello? Is this place open?" he called out, before pounding his fist into the opposite hand with enough force to knock someone down. "Well of COURSE it's ******** open. I can smell people here."

He stopped and contemplated for a second, pensively bringing his fingers to stroke his smooth chin in thought.

"Hmm. Maybe I need to break something first…"

It always worked for him in the past.




--- Another day in this carnival of souls; another night's sands end as quickly as it goes◄◄◄◄

[The_Butterfly_Effect]

Sera grinned wide and wickedly when she felt Sono’s presence flicker in and out of existence like a flame, at one point he was several feet behind her and the next he was wrapping his arms around her and pinning her body against the wall; this position she could get used to. The grin still lingered across her lips, she was very impressed with him so far, especially after his little teleporting just then, though she could see the effort it must have taken. No wonder, considering it had taken Sera about three centuries before she had perfected it to a degree where it was as easy as clicking her fingers. It had taken her a fair amount of time however simply because her attention span was like that of a goldfish, a very deadly goldfish, and when she first started practicing, it took all of her concentration as she had to ensure that during her fiery-flashes of teleportation, she didn’t lose any part of herself. Focussing to break ones physical body down to nothing but particles of hot air, whilst also keeping all those particles together and focussing on where it is you wanted to go; it took several decades before Sera stopped reappearing halfway through building walls or sticking out of the ground. Although the looks on people’s faces were highly amusing.

Moving her hands up Sono’s back, fingers delicately playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, her eyes entirely focussed on his as he stared at her. After that little feat of his, Sono seemed a bit different, or perhaps it was Sera who was different and simply seeing him in a new light, either way she felt fantastic as the heat from his body melded with her own. Damn. If things carried on this way, she wouldn’t care if she did lose control.
‘What I want to do to you right now…’ The words echoed in her mind, reverberating through her whole body, searing heat trailing a pathway from her lips, the moment his pressed against them. Sera felt as if everything exploded into a million tiny sparks, igniting every which way, all the emotions that had been welling up inside her was now set loose and she felt no need to contain them anymore. Years of loneliness, the sorrow and hatred towards the world, it all was swept away to be replaced by a gentle bliss that soon gave way to a raw passion, those deep urges she had been ignoring up until now were set loose and Sera felt her body burn up uncontrollably, soaking in Sono’s aura. There was a brief moment when she felt like pouting, as Sono still had enough control not to let the building she was pressed against catch fire; such a shame, they were certainly burning at high enough temperatures. This was often the trouble when Sera got over-excited, or gave into her wild desires, she would tend to leave a path of destruction in her wake; especially when she was with a fellow being who could handle fire. Her hands ran themselves through his hair and she felt like ramming him into the opposite wall, wanting to explore this new body of his and when she felt his hands squeeze her shoulders lightly, Sera inhaled deeply, commiting his taste and scent to memory and she would have gone ahead with her plan had it not been for Sono pulling away from her, breaking the searing contact between their lips. A soft sound of complaint escaped her lips, followed by a growl of sorts as she gritted her teeth together in what seemed to be pain, but she was simply trying to now hold herself back after previously letting go; it was too much, she could bare focus on anything besides the whirl of emotions that were rampaging through her body. Words were being spoken, but Sera was barely aware of them, catching just a few – ‘street’ ‘kinky’ ‘taste’ ‘tricks’ ‘party’. She lifted her head a little, staring at Sono with an almost dazed expression on her face; briefly she felt his hand on her cheek, his gentle touch once again searing a pathway to the pit of her being.
The moment he mentioned the words ‘I’ll race you’, it was as if Sera snapped back into focus and grinned wildly, her eyes flashing bright gold that continuously shifted back and forth from a scarlet red.
“Sounds good to me. I know a few other games we can play…”

The rest of the night went past in a blur, Sera allowed herself this one night of frivolous joy, seeing as it was a special time of year and Sono had gone and done himself up real nice. How could she have possibly resisted?
Racing to the park, even if she was in high heels, Sera was as quick as ever, she didn’t hold herself back, though her body often disobeyed what her mind wanted, as it didn’t want to stray too far from Sono, still remembering the feel of his body pressed against hers. Once at the party though, she loosened up some more, no doubt because of the amount of alcohol that she chose to consume; the money she kept pulling out from within her costume often got the cheers going, if not just the costume itself. Anytime that a human male drew too close however, they often learned the true meaning of hot, as Sera really wasn’t holding herself back. Threat of CLOAKs? As if she cared! But when things did start to get a little too heated, considering that there was more than a few in the close vicinity who could wield fire and that made Sera feel even higher, she chose to play a few more games with Sono; Hide and Explode being one of her favourites. The centre park was big enough for plenty of places to hide and there weren’t that many trees that caught fire every time one of them found the other, Sera loved the park after all, she didn’t want it totally destroyed. Which was when she decided to lead the way back into the city, a relatively small path of destruction left in her wake this time. It wasn’t too odd, what with it being Halloween, the small fires or explosions could easily have been passed off as misfired fireworks or just drunken idiots starting random fires. Though of course whenever a few CLOAKs came along, it was easy for them to see the truth, Sera never let them stop her fun though. There were plenty enough strange sights to attract their attention elsewhere; had she imagined that big green monster riding a huge bike with… burnt children tied round his neck? Crazy stuff.

A low unintelligible moan escaped from Sera’s lips, followed by a puff of flames which immediately dispersed in the hot, shimmering air that surrounded her body. The pitter patter sound of raindrops against a window eventually filtered through the fog of her mind, Sera felt as if she were floating in a deep and murky pool, in which it was taking a long time to swim to the surface.
“Sooono… b*****d… What… Hmm…” She tired moving any of her limbs, it felt like her foot kicked something hard and at the sound of some object falling over and crashing to the floor, she cried out in alarm and jolted awake in what she supposed was her bed. It was on the messy side of a room, so that meant something, her half lidded gaze drifted about the room as she lay on her front, sprawled across the bed, beneath the creased up sheets and with one slow turn of her body she rolled off the bed and thudded on the hardwood floor. “Ow.” She mumbled, her body all twisted up in the sheets, the dull throbbing pain that was taking up space in her head was gradually subsiding, which lead Sera to believe that she must have consumed a lot of alcohol last night for it to have this little effect on her body. She remembered bits and pieces of the night before, and most likely the blanks would fill in later on, but for now she just felt like killing Sono. Where was that guy anyway?
“I neeeeed foooood…” She moaned into the floor, her stomach growling loudly in protest of actually being empty in the morning. When she eventually managed to stand up right, she took note of the fact that she was lacking clothes with just a shrug of her shoulders. Though knowing that not everyone would share the same opinion as hers, Sera grabbed the sheets off the ground and wrapped them around herself as a makeshift toga, quite stylish really, Sera thought with a wry smile; clothes were something she couldn’t be bothered with, food was more important. Her hair was still a vibrant red shade, swept about her face in a bed head style, she gave a loud yawn before moving with sluggish steps towards the bedroom door and out into the hall; rain always made her feel less energetic. Food was a good plan.
"Booooooob!..." Her voice rang out, cranky and half awake, Sera wondered who was awake yet and what the time even was, as she wandered down the stairs at a slow pace, her hands ensuring the sheets didn't fall down; for the sake of other people of course, seeing as if she really cared about showing her birthday suit, she would have put some real clothes on. "Boooooob... Sono... Is that...you?" She frowned and tilted her head to one side, catching a glimpse of yet another new face, some dark skinned male with an eye patch and cat ears. Shaking her head a little, she chose not to bother with any pleasantries this morning, she just wanted something to eat. Right now.

[Ms Silver Lining]

The unexpected chair caused the sheep to hop up as if she were sitting on something hot. She jumped to her feet and spun to look at the chair so fast one would think she was trying to avoid a knife. Just as Vincent phased through the bedroom door Miwa jumped back into the chair. She felt as though she had done something wrong and she was supposed to sit in the chair. However, she didn't think about the chair for long. Her hands quickly pulled her shirt back down so that it covered her stomach. Then pulled on her skirt, trying to make sure she didn't flash her underwear. Not that she would mind but there was a time and a place for everything. She quickly remembered that she was in some unknown place and that this man could be a shepherd, so why did she have to sit? She pulled herself out of the chair and stood behind it to turned and stare at Vincent. Her fingers held onto the head of the chair in case she had to move it. She kept it between the both of them as if it would protect her. Her flushed cheeks were not a result of the dangerously charming appearance of Vincent. Her body was still warm and wasn't likely to cool down until she took a shower. On the other hand, perhaps it was a result of him that she felt so warm but she didn't think about her body heat for long.

It was clear that her worries were partly washed away by the way her shoulders relaxed and her hand dropped to her side. She slowly moved around to the side of the chair watching as he brought his hands forward. There was so much she wanted to blurt out and ask. How did he know what shepherds were and that she would fear them? There was few and far in between that understood the Sheep and Shepherd life styles. Furthermore, what was it that he was thanking her for? Being the singled minded female that she was, she easily forgot her questions with the mention of Bob's food. Her head snapped towards the apples he placed on the bed. When she looked away and Vincent past her a strange feeling crawled across her warm skin. She moved her hand over her arm and rubbed the sleeve looking for Vincent. The sheep was semi speechless. She combed her fingers through her curly locks, pushing them off her shoulder and behind her. Then plucked both apples from the bed and inspected them closely. What if this was one of those situations where the apple was poisoned? Would she turn into Snow White and dream of the seven dwarfs? Her body may have relaxed but she was still cautious of the dark vampire staring at her from his corner. She paused after having another strange feeling run down the length of her spin. She bit her lower lip and turned around to face him as he spoke again. She wanted to eat the apples given to her but the little voice in the back of her mind told her not to.

As he told the story Miwa sat back down in the chair and moved her feet together so that her toes kissed. What pendent? Oh, the one she picked up in the lost in found. Her cheeks flushed with more color and she slowly wiggled her hips in her seat. Her large shiny eyes narrowed and looked away when he brought up Kiyoshi and whom he was with. Was he reading her mind? Miwa's thoughts were really scattered this morning. It didn't help that she was outside of her comfort zone which made it hard for her to give Vincent her full attention. When he finished she turned the apples over in her hands, trying to find a place in her mind where she was comfortable with. If this man was telling the truth then he was very kind. She bit her lower lip looking down at the tail that swayed next to her thigh. "You're very obliging Mr. Vincent." She searched the floor for a few seconds, "I'm very grateful that I helped you find something so important to you." She giggled holding the red apple in front of her peachy lips. "I'm also grateful to have a few hours sleeping in a bed!" She bounced a little in her seat quickly returning to her normal self. Then stood up looking around his well furnished bedroom and sat the green apple back down on the bed after her eyes noticed the door to the bathroom.

"I'm going to need more food then this, but can I use the bathroom?" She pointed to the bathroom helping her self by walking over to the empty bathroom. She couldn't leave his room sweating and ‘partly’ dressed. And if Kiyoshi showed up and saw her like this he would come to the worse conclusions. He could have all the fun he liked but she was restricted with such activities. She be began eating the apple as her bare feet carried her into the bathroom. She flicked on the light, closed the door, and turned on the cold water in the sink. As she cleaned herself from her own sweat she sang, "♪ Shawty's like a melody in my head, That I can't keep out, Got me singin' like, Na na na na everyday, It's like my iPod stuck on replay, replay-ay-ay-ay! ♪" She removed her cape and purple shirt reviling the black spaghetti string tank top. She ran the cloth across her flesh and cleaned her face. She looked down at her cape and picked it up to rip it across the bottom and use the black strip of fabric to tie her hair into a large curly ponytail. When she looked in the mirror it looked as if she were wearing a dress the way the black tank top blended with the black skirt. Now that her face wasn't flushed she felt a little more comfortable with leaving the room. She picked up her purple long sleeve shirt and tied the sleeves around her neck so that the shirt hung like a new cape. The sleeves hanging from the knot covered part of her cleavage. She ate her apple in small periods in the processes of her cleaning up and by the time she finished; the apple was done, tossed in the small trash bin.

Suddenly the bathroom door was shoved open and Miwa pumped her fist in the air singing, "♪ Shawty's like a melody in my head, That I can't keep out, Got me singin' like, Na na na na everyday, It's like my iPod stuck on replay, replay-ay-ay-ay! ♪" Her hips swayed from side to side as her knees bent to bounce to he beat of the song in her head. She bobbed her head in the direction her hips moved and her tail pushed and swayed with her. Her hands were pumped in small fist in front of her chest, moving in the opposite direction of her hips. Her hair bounced and swayed causing the longer strands of her bangs to swing gently against her cheeks. "♪ Na ne na ne na naaa! ♪" She giggled running over to the bed to look for her sleeper shoes. She left her cape and washcloth in the bathroom because she wasn't sure what to do with them. She picked up the green apple and moved the blankets around a little until one of her shoes fell onto the floor. She popped on the side of the bed full of the energy she didn't normally get to burn. Then leaned over to pick up her shoe and slip it onto her feet. "I'm ready when you are Mr. Vincent," she giggled leaning across the bed to grab her second shoe while biting her apple at the same time.

(( Miwa's Morning Song: Shawty! ))

[The_Butterfly_Effect]

Earth. There. It was mentioned yet again! And yet again Isidora refused to face the truth of this matter, it frightened her, that sickening sensation in the pit of her stomach worsened and she felt her mind verge on a panicked state. This couldn’t be happening. Earth was a myth. This was Olympus!
Thankfully she was sitting down, otherwise she would have collapsed, as things were becoming too much for her to take on. Isidora didn’t want to believe that she had somehow managed to transport herself to a different world, she didn’t want to think about what kind of damage that had done to her aura.
It wasn’t dark magic! It wasn’t! I would nev- She sat stone still, just staring ahead as Phoenix continued talking, her thoughts having come to an abrupt halt at the realisation that she hadn’t even checked her aura yet. She’d felt no need to, those two element spells previously were like child’s play for her, it hardly required much magic and so she hadn’t seen if her aura had any black smut on it yet. Bigger spell… She thought, her chest tightening with worry at what she would see. If any of this is even real, that is.
“Phoenix… That’s a good name… I suppose that your namesake does not exist in this world? … Earth…” She closed her eyes for a brief moment, before they shot open, “I think I’m going to be sick…” Pushing herself away from the table, Isidora stumbled past a few people until she suddenly stopped, doubled over and most ungracefully emptied out the contents of her stomach. There were a few people who simply laughed at her misfortune, saying something about how she couldn’t hold her liquor, whilst others moved away from the area. Isidora managed to straighten up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and glancing back to the table where she had left Phoenix. Her staff which she had also left behind immediately tore itself from the ground and flew to her outstretched hand; the cries of alarm and impressed cheers did not reach Isidora’s ears as she shook her head and tried to focus on connecting to a ley line. She had to see it.

“Rhombus!” She shouted loud and clear, gritting her teeth as magic burned through her veins and focussed into the smooth stone of her staff. Without warning a large sphere of energy expanded outwards like a bubble, surrounding her entirely in a dome of soft shimmering violet, the scent of redwood rose strongly, mixed with a cloying scent of burnt amber. Isidora stood in the centre, clutching her staff tightly and gazing at the shifting colour of violet, before settling on a patch of deep black that was permeating into the soft violet. So it was true. The only way for her to have crossed worlds was if she had performed one of the forbidden dark spells, her aura was now tainted, there was no way that she knew of to remove that mark; no way that she wanted to think of anyway. Besides, Phoenix had said that Demons didn’t exist in this world.
The sounds of the outside were slowly filtering into her own private bubble, anybody who had been close by would have no doubt received a painful burn, the sphere was impenetrable and could only be broken down if Isidora came into contact with a part of it. At least, this was by Olympian standards, she had no idea if there was anything on this Earth that could break through such strong magic.
Hearing the frightened cries of alarm, she reached out and touched the inside of the sphere, feeling the rush of magic as it flowed back through her veins and returned to the ley line. Still feeling shaken and sick after seeing the black smut and knowing that this wasn’t Olympus, therefore she no longer had the protection of the Gods, Isidora could feel the hot tears spill down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry… Please forgive me…” She tried to speak coherently, wiping away the annoying tears and apologising to the people she had inadvertently injured. Before anything else could possibly happen, and thankful that it had only been a small number of people who were now shell shocked and wondering what the hell was going on, Isidora turned and ran from the party, the few gathered nearby gladly cleared the way for her as she headed back into the shelter of the trees.

She had eventually managed to find somewhere to lay down for the rest of the night, and it was a long night, as she kept having to find somewhere new to rest because there were some people going around causing explosions and small fires, which Isidora did her best to put out, despite the fact that she felt utterly terrible and sick. Finding shelter in the hollow of a large willow tree beside a lake, she’d put up a barrier just in case anything nasty came along, as well as manipulated the tree to conceal her from view and fell asleep curled up in a foetal position like some hibernating woodland critter.

The rain soon woke her, she could hear the sounds of raindrops pitter pattering on the fallen leaves strewn across the grounds, the sound of the drops falling into the lake, it was soothing almost.
“Earth…” She muttered to herself for the umpteenth time, it was slowly sinking in; she still didn’t want to believe it though, but if it was true, then what kind of a world was this really? “Arbor forma…” Isidora made a waving motion with her hand and part of the tree shifted to allow her to see outside, she could also see the barrier that she had thrown up last night and reached out to touch it, breaking it down. Instead of crawling out of the hollow, she chose to just stay curled up, watching the rain fall down outside. It was a little chilly, but she didn’t mind, the feel of the cold damp earth was another aspect of nature that soothed her, and there wasn’t anyone around to point and stare at the strangely clad female with pink-violet hair lying curled up in a tree hollow.

[Vincent W Sinnet]

"Only in death will we have our own names since only in death are we no longer part of the effort. In death we become heroes."

Bob's night was as pleasant as things got for him. The adorable Miwa was there to keep him company, which the zombie chef desperately needed even though he wouldn't admit it to anyone. They talked and when they didn't she played with the stuffed toys he had given her, even though she decided to keep them were Bob left them. That was fine with Bob, perhaps they would keep her coming around. She did stay for a good while though, explaining that Kiyoshi would be back when he was done. Yeah, in the morning. Miwa ended up falling asleep at the counter, Bob didn't say anything or disturb her. Though he couldn't help but run a hand through her hair as he watched the adorable Miwa snoozing. The other chefs had come out to clean up while she slept and Bob decided to help them and make sure they didn't throw away anything he wanted to eat later. Bob was just walking back to the bar as Miwa woke up and when she decided to leave Bob simply waved and said goodbye. He hoped back onto his chair and there he sat for the remainder of the evening. For what to the dead need of sleep anyways?

Bob was usually always on the job, ready to cook at a moments notice. If at some point he didn't feel like it? Well who cared, he worked enough to deserve a break here and there. It was a good thing Bob didn't sign off any of it as overtime otherwise Janet might start forcing him to stop working. So Bob sat there undisturbed for the night and as it started getting close to the early morning Bob walked back into the kitchen were he started working his magic yet again. He started working earlier than normal so the smells of food might have already started flowing through the house in the somewhat early AM. When the chef's came in to do their job they found that they had little to do as Bob had already started it all. Bob was moving so quickly in between dishes, though you couldn't tell just by looking at him, that most of the other chefs were cast aside. Most just settled with doing dishes or setting up plates for the food to go on.

Most everything was set on the buffet table by the time the sun was up. Bob was still putting the finishing touches on a few dishes. Bob had started so long ago on such simple breakfast items and still wasn't quite finished. But that was Bob's method, going as slow as he goddamn felt like and doing a good goddamn job. The breakfast menu usually never changed, it was breakfast, what more did people want? Bacon, eggs, sausage, pancakes, waffles, biscuits and gravy, english muffins, toast, all kinds of home made jams and syrups. Not only all that but Bob had made a ton of it. To feed the staff, the residents... and Sera if she decided to show up. Some of these people ate like it was going out of style, it's not like Bob wouldn't be there later to whip up some more. For day to day variety, dinner was what stood out in that regard.

Bob himself even saw to setting out every bit of food, the other chefs already setting up the buffet table for him to put everything out. Bob did, carrying a number of massive plates at a time with relative ease. Once everything had been set out, Bob heaved a sigh and headed back into the kitchen. He changed out of the chef's shirt he had been wearing, with a white shirt still beneath it, and threw it into the hamper kept in the kitchen. There were plenty of spares, hence why it was so easy to go from covered in the food you've prepared to sparkly clean. Bob washed off his hands and found a new shirt. Buttoning it up he wandered back out behind the and planting himself back on the stool. The aroma of food certainly wafting through the inn by now. Last night had no part in dinner and this morning he was solely responsible for breakfast, the people could decide for themselves the difference. Bob looked over to one of the small wooden columns supporting one end of the bar. Hanging off it was a small bell, Bob reached up and hit it. Ding, breakfast was ready.

[Viice]

Come satisfy desire. Come set yourself on fire.

Phoenix had stopped talking when she saw Isadora's face go pale and she wondered if she'd been drinking, though she didn't seem the..type. She tilted her head a little as she watched her stand up and quickly ralph not too far away, Phoenix flinched a little, closing one eye. Yow. This girl was certainly crazy. Phoenix stood up slowly and before she could even say anything the women had run off. Phoenix sighed. All kinds of loons surfaced on Halloween, perhaps everything she had said was false and Phoenix was left with no real answers to her questions. A few people looked back towards her as if it were her fault the women had vomited, and she promptly gave them the finger, to which they quickly looked away. She gathered her things and left this party, deciding it was a shitty one and she could do better. Much better.

She found a costume party not too far from the park which allowed for the use of her intimidating helmet, and so with it slid over her head she entered with a smirk on her face. It was located slightly underground, she had to walk down a set of steps into a strobing room with a low ceiling, There was a bar, blaring music that vibrated the floor and plenty of happy drinkers in costumes of all kinds. The colorful mass jumped in time to the music, most grinding up against each other as they danced. Soon Phoenix was part of this pool of sweating, wreathing, wet bodies that tangled in pure acts of lust among strangers. Phoenix's soon drunken eyes scanned the arched backs, the messy hair, the swaying hips, she heard the sound of bare skin against bare skin, and it all brought her great pleasure to be a part of it, like some widely accepted orgy that nobody questioned, all driven by music. And the music never stopped. The night was quite a blur to her, it was spent with her helmet crooked on her head, a big grin on her face and a shot spilling over onto her fingers each time she rose it high before pouring it down her burning throat. She was being cheered on by friendly faces she'd never seen, hands pumped into the air with each dose of alcohol. She soon ended up outside of the club, her helmet under one arm, she staggered off next to the entrance and barfed just as Isadora had. A glowing blue light caught her eye from an ally nearby and she looked to the side from her hunched over position to see something she imagined could only have stemmed from her drunken stooper, it looked like a creature eating a...blueish light? The ********] she puked some more and forgot about it.

How she found her way back to the inn she had no clue, but somehow she was able to navigate there with wobbly steps, her eyes flickering with the firey passion that came with drinking. She trudged through the rain, barley feeling it through her intoxication, though she must have beena sight. Her white shirt clung to her ivory skin shamelessly as she stepped up the the inn, pushing the door open and practically falling into the place. s**t.. she muttered with that cocky British accent as she tried to regain balance, her golden view rose with steps she didn't even realize she took until she knew she was going to fall this time, her helmet hit the floor before her exhausted body submitted. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she fell, the prospect of another single step was gone. She had fallen into a stranger right after he had slammed his fist down on the counter and yelled about whether the inn was open or not, and Phoenix's very last thoughts were consumed then in an intoxicated darkness.

//[L]ocation: Front of the Inn// [C]urrent Music: Filter-Hey Man Nice Shot// [M]ood: Tired// [S]tatus: DRUNK//
[T]attoos: ex 1 ex 2//

[Viice]

The Succubus felt consciousness creep up on her gently with the morning hours. She opened her crimson eyes, blinking slowly as complete silence surrounded her, but slowly with each waking moment sound began to filter through. She could hear Kiyoshi's breathing first, slow and steady, and soon his scent hit her as well, bringing a smile to her lips that pulled against her fangs. She remembered the night before now, gliding her tongue over her fangs as if recalling a wet dream. But it was so much better. She sat up slowly, hugging the blankets close to her naked form. She looked to Kiyoshi the way one would look at an empty plate, and though she had not eaten she felt very full. The sustenance she required to survive was slightly granted to her, though she didn't consume him she did tap into his sexual drive to indulge in his lust just a little. She almost wished she would have drained him completely, but she waved the thought off as she lowered her face close to Kiyoshi's neck and nuzzled him, taking in his scent simply for the sake of her endless lust. She then slid past him and off of the bed, rising her arms above her shapely form and arching her back in a stretch. Though he had been an incredible partner in bed she had no emotional tie to him. He was like a gourmet chocolate, absolutely delectable until the very last bite, and though you may crave more once it's gone it is still just a gourmet chocolate. He had offered her nothing else, after all, but his body.

She stepped into the bathroom completely nude, her spaded tail curling and relaxing with each tired step. She leaned into the shower and turned the water on, her messy light indigo locks falling over her shoulders with the motion. She waited for the water to get steaming hot as she examined herself in the mirror, pulling her hair up off her shoulders and tilting her head to see her profile. She grinned at her sexy self, the self absorbed creature barley noticed her tail whip the wall loudly in her own twisted excitement. Soon steam rolled from the bathtub and she imagined it was hot enough for her tastes, so she stepped in and cooed against the heat. Her hair was soon saturated and heavy against her back and chest, she pulled it back away from her face so she could see. What a night..she remembered how hastily he had undressed her, how he'd started before he himself was even fully undressed, the poor man was starved for sexual gratification. How long had it been for him? A night with me should hold him over well...she thought with a sinister grin as she finished up in the shower, turning the water off and stepping out to the foggy room. She toweled herself dry and wrapped her hair up in another towel while she searched for her cloths, which he'd thrown all about the room.

Soon she was dressed, and after a good hour of dolling herself up she let her now-dry hair fall over her features. From being up in the towel it had a natural curl about it and she decided to let it be that way instead of perfectly straight, which was her norm. She ran her fingers through her silky locks, looking back to Kiyoshi curiously. She considered waiting for him to wake, but she imagined he'd be just like all the other men she spent the night with, quick to leave and paying her no mind once they were satisfied. It was something that bothered her little, the idea of settling down with just one baffled the Succubus. Just one? Why when so many have so much to offer? She decided on waiting simply out of curiosity for how this one would react to seeing her after last nights sexcapade, seated in front of a mirror with her fingers running in her hair and her legs folded neatly in front of her. She hummed softly in that double toned silvery voice that had egged him on all night long.

[Yoshkun]

It would take more alcohol than the entire park held that night to get a forest spirit drunk, so the best way to describe Sono’s condition at the party was very tipsy at best. He spent most of the first few hours trying to keep Sera from completely losing her mind, also setting anyone’s scalp aflame that dared to put money into the phoenix’s devilish costume. It made him furious when he tried to apply logic to the situation; Sera had oodles of cash from what he had been told…why would she need various wads of ones and fives? As the night progressed his mood improved, the firebirds struck out on their own and got lost within the various paths of trees and benches near where they had met in what seemed like forever ago. They played many games of chase, one specifically where either Sera or Sono would find the other and set things around them ablaze when their bodies collided, often being simple trees but other times being benches and even people. However the road back to the Inn and why a usually fashionable Sera was only robed in creamy white bed sheets was a secret for him to know and for her to find out. Maybe.

An hour or so before Sera awakens..

Fast-forward to the next morning, where flashing amber eyes fluttered open only to find that he was staring up at a whirling ceiling fan that was not his own. He glanced sleepily to his right and squinted at the sound of rain pitter pattering against the window. To his left was the motionless Sera, who was completely wrapped from head to toe in bed sheets and so deep within her own drunken slumber that he could swear she was faintly snoring. Memories began to flood back into his swirling thoughts, as if a picture sideshow that highlighted everything that happened between them from six in the evening to six o’clock this very morning. His hand found his face as he audibly groaned, rubbing his eyes while gathering himself enough to drag his feet across the bed and onto the carpet. He initially stumbled a bit because of all the messy things littered within Sera’s half of the room; muttering and standing to stretch before finding his various articles of clothing and dressing properly to go out. He glanced back and saw that Sera had now turned to lie on her back, his eyes drawn immediately to the partially exposed flesh that glimmered in the tiny glimpse of sunlight like an exotic jewel. A small smirk cracked the corners of an otherwise surly and sleepy stone faced expression; oh how even in sleep that woman played with his mind. He reached over and pulled the sheets up to about her shoulders so she would remain decent if her roommate came in, completely unaware of how little Sera cared about those kinds of things. With her preoccupied for a while, Sono turned and scanned the room for two things he needed to bathe. He tip toed his way to the bathroom and placed a fluffy white towel under his arms. The other thing was much less obvious, it was a small yellow radio on the floor that had caught his attention when he first stepped on it only moments ago. Some music would be nice to listen to while washing...clearly a Sera-like notion. So with the towel in one arm and the radio in the other, he silently exited Room 3 and let the door close behind him.

The imp had told him about the recently added bathhouses on the first floor and the pseudo phoenix had always wanted to try one. He made his way down the staircases and eventually came across said bathhouse entrance, blinking confoundedly at the two doors right next to each other before slowly realizing one was for males and the other obliviously females. He took the one the left, the male one, and was pleased to find that he was the only one occupying it at the moment. He turned the small radio on and listened to the static hum overhead as he flickered to a rock station before setting it down on the nearby bench. He then pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to the floor. Then came the rest of his attire, the shoes, socks, belt, pants and boxers. To his surprise, the entire bath began to boil and bubble the instant his lower torso was beneath the water; that certainly had never happened before. He took one of the wash rags available and dipped it into the water, soaking up as much as he could before rubbing it over his upper torso. Steam pouring freely from his body upon contact with the wet cloth, a long pleasant sigh of relief passing through parted lips and nostrils immediately followed by vibrant sparks that fell dim once hitting the water below. A long grin now parted the sleepy frown that kept his features from glowing, a low hum building up in his throat thanks to the song currently filling most of the noise in the room. He really liked the grungy sound of the guitar and the haunting echo of the man’s voice, eventually causing him to sing along with the words once he knew them well enough.”Your sex is on fireeeeeeeeeeeee!” He hummed before dunking his head in the water and pulling up dramatically while shaking his dripping red orange bangs furiously that sparkled even without the aid of the sun.”Hot as a fever, rattling bones…I could just taste it, taste it, if it’s not forever, if it’s just tonight, it’s still the greatest, the greatest, the greatest!!” His flaming aurora began to build and flare up, caused by the spirit’s excited air guitar play that threatened to spread across the surface of the bathhouse. Fortunately, the song came to an end and the annoying chatter of the dj caused the aurora to whittle away to nothing more than giving his skin a faint glow. Sono sighed wistfully and finished up his bath after scrubbing his chest and shoulders once more. Who told these jabbering morons they could mess up his jams, anyway? He pulled himself out of the bath and sat on the edge, drying himself with Sera’s warm towel while kicking the tip of the water with his toes. He frowned a bit, wondering how long the phoenix would take before she got her lazy self out of bed. She probably wouldn’t want to see him directly anyway, even if there was an obvious bond and thing between them. As Sono’s natural self doubt just began to creep into the back of his thoughts, the mask scoffed and warned him to stop being so foolish. Enjoy the things around you and really enjoy the fire mistress that pines for the searing touch you have wielded so frivolously, it said.

With Sono’s actual conscious still in shock for the moment, that advice seemed as good as any. He started to get dressed now with some clothes he had most likely stolen sometime between Halloween and today. First there was the boxers and the khaki brown shorts that went just past his knees, followed by socks, black tennis shoes, a white t-shirt, a medium sized earth green hoodie to go over that, and the only thing that seemed to remain from his Halloween costume…his fingerless black gloves. Once everything was secure and ready for action, Sono grinned happily and pumped both fist straight into the air; ready to take on the challenges of a new day! That is, until the faint aroma of burning ash wafted through his nostrils as a familiar scent alerted him to Sera's awakened presence a few floors up. Something just struck him that he hadn’t contemplated before, what if by some chance in her drunken stupor, the phoenix forgot most of the events on Halloween night…and worse….wanted him to tell her about it! Not ready for that particular conversation right now, Sono suddenly became frantic and brought his usually smoking aurora to its lowest point. Surely the woman was hungry, and when she went for food he could make a mad dash towards his room and...and...and lock the door! Hah! He would surely be safe from her wrath then! Sure, it was a childish idea and had zero chance of succeeding…but hey, he was Sera after all. Before his plan could be set in action, he quietly made his way to the Living Area to hide, which could be walked to from the main lobby and was before the dinning hall.

[Lightlender]

'Cause it's almost like your heaven's trying EVERYTHING.

Disillusioned Memoirs: Legendary Hero or Insufferable b*****d?

"So this drunk chick…she's kinda hot, right? Well she would be if she didn't look like she was two steps away from spilling her lunch all over the goddamn floor. What is WITH me and unruly women? One damn near beats me within every inch of my life and then just vanishes without a trace so I can chase after her for a for a few years, another catches split-amnesia with me and forgets who the ******** I am and that we had a kid together—the one who smells like grape juice, I hope I never see her again. I just wouldn't know what to say, how to even apologize for just bailing on her like the Titanic was freakin' sinking. 'I'm sorry, babe, I was gonna turn into a voracious monster?' Somehow I just don't think it'd foot the bill. I'm horrible with women. That's why I'm a jackass to them. I have to be. "

[********!! What's your problem, huh?" the stranger growled, almost turning around to introduce his knuckles to her face for a nice chat over tea and crumpets—perhaps a scone or two. Fortunately, Phoenix was already scheduled for an appointment with the floor before he could let his fist-missile soar. In the end, the homeless cat-demon's punch flew aimlessly over the top of her head in a complete miss of the target as Phoenix went 'thunk' all over the ground...as though all her puppet strings were severed at once. For a moment, the blue-eyed nekomata just stood there blinking, at an utter loss for words. His punches were strong, but they'd never been known to break a person's soul like fine porcelain—at least, not with a single blow. It often took about a minute of pounding on his enemies to do that, especially since he used to roll in high circles where big boys and girls played. Watching the red-haired girl simply collapse like spilled marbles, he felt kind of bad. But it was fortunate, otherwise she may have caught the haymaker of a lifetime.

"I don't usually deck chicks in the face. I was just a little wired at the moment, though. I did just kill three people, after all. I thought she was trying to sneak up and attack me from behind. I'm glad I missed. I'd feel like a real d**k of I ruined a pretty face like that without a good reason."

"Hot damn. She really bonked her nugget." he mused, reaching into his hoodie pocket for a pack of cigarettes. By the sound of the hit, she didn't crack her skull or anything but he wound up kneeling down to check her over, anyhow. He wasn't entirely heartless. He lifted her shoulders gently, keeping the back of her head braced every-so-carefully, feeling her forehead for injuries—a small knot that would likely be gone by nightfall. He kept looking however, his fingers friskily roaming over her figure for a second before slipping through her pockets to discover the Marlboro 100's hidden there in the same manner that Columbus 'discovered' the Americas. "Yoink! You won't be needing these while you're unconscious, babe. Thanks." That said, he flicked out a zippo and lit up without a care in the world. Hopefully, somebody would come along and find this girl some medical attention.

"What?! What the hell did you expect me to do? I'm not a medic or anything. The only cure for being s**t-faced is to ******** sleep it off. She won't need Cowboy Killers in Slumberland. Nobody told her to drink herself stupid like that. Stop looking at me like that."

(I know it's short, but ******** it. I'm drunk—it's New Years. Sue me.)



--- Another day in this carnival of souls; another night's sands end as quickly as it goes◄◄◄◄