Elysium Inn (Always Accepting Literate People)

[The_Butterfly_Effect]

At least a week or two? Maybe even a whole month? Sera grinned wickedly to herself at the thought, such a bright prospect, already it seemed her body had had a very energetic time last night and now there lay the possibility of a whole month. This could be a long over-due exercise for Sera, as she’d been so placid these last ten years, avoiding the CLOAK agents like a good little super. When arriving in this city a few weeks ago, she hadn’t wanted anyone to know her true identity, especially not when this particular city was overrun with agents. Before Sono had come along, the mere thought of the agents discovering her true identity had sent terror striking to her core, but now all she felt was a deliciously naughty sensation; just like the old days. Damn Sono. How long could she last? Or better yet, how long could this city last? Sera had to promise herself that she wouldn’t go as crazy as she had last night, well, for one thing she couldn’t remember all of last night, so that was a start to how crazy it had been. But she didn’t want a repeat. The CLOAKs were probably on high alert after the events of last night, after all it hadn’t just been Sono and Sera rampaging about the streets, there had been plenty of activity all over the place. Halloween was always eventful.

Glancing at Sono, she gave a slight smirk, it was all too obvious that he did not appreciate his existence, or was it something else? No, Sera could clearly sense that he loathed the kind of being he was, but she couldn’t work out why he held such bitterness. Sera thought the fact that he was an Earth Spirit was fascinating, and for him having such an amazing gift, it made him all the more interesting to her eyes. She felt her rage reign itself in like a wild animal, quietly observing Sono’s seething anger without actually openly staring at him. Clearly it would have been too rude to observe his thoughts; her telepathy was not so strong as to break down whatever barriers he had placed up in his own fortress of solitude. Sera didn’t like using her telepathy too much anyhow, not unless she wanted to freak out a few humans by throwing her voice around or reading minds. But on a day like this, she didn’t feel like using those particular gifts, however tempting Sono was. If he wanted her to know anything about himself, he would tell her when he was ready, clearly it was taking a lot of effort for him to even mention a few facts, due to his self hatred. Such a shame really, and quite sad. Sure, long ago Sera had felt the lowest of low, despising her solitary existence and all the pain and suffering it brought, but she learnt to cope, buried those darker emotions deep down where the sun would never reach. She had often felt torn in different directions, hating everything but also treasuring it all; those childish whimsical urges overwhelmed her occasionally and made her live life to its fullest. And why shouldn’t she? It was good to let loose now and then. Feed the soul with rich laughter. Sono needed to feel this too; Sera wanted him to start appreciating his life more, even if she didn’t know the full extent of his rage. She wanted him to have as much fun as she has.

“You only eat fruit? Seriously? I could not live like that… well not with this body anyway.” Sera chuckled softly, grinning at Sono, happy that he had shared another fact about himself with her; this was good, slowly he was opening up, little by little.
Of course when she had posed the Halloween question to him, he was as if he shut down and closed up tighter than bark on a tree. His poker face however, was terrible. She didn’t need to be a mind reader to know something was up, something that he didn’t feel comfortable talking about; was it embarrassing for him? Sera couldn’t help but grin wider and wider like the Cheshire cat, her eyes shining bright gold as various thoughts and scenarios bundled about in her mind. Whatever had happened, it must have been really good. Damn shame that she’d have to wait a while before she could remember it though.
“Totally wasted, huh? Well that does sound like something I would do… Some of my memories don’t seem to add up though, perhaps I imagined those… particular events… I’ll just have to take your word for it.” Another grin, she at least knew well enough that they had been to more places than just that one party; she could recall a few vague scenes of them running around the city, chasing after one another. What for, she had no clue. It was merely left to her interpretation.

Sera turned her attention away from Sono, busying herself with filling up on more meat, she liked her protein after all, best thing to start the day; though how could she resist those waffles, full of their carby goodness, it wasn’t like overeating affected her in any way, screw counting calories, it had never applied for her body. She burned them all too quickly. As she was piling various treats onto her plate, some movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and Sera shot a sharp eyed look towards a moving shadow, just as Gesso leapt out from its velvety darkness. She couldn’t remember if she had seen his face before, but either way his good nature was overwhelming, he was joining in the song that Miwa had been singing. Sera felt a tug at the corner of her lips, this place certainly was full of them; then again, she couldn’t say much about other people’s sanity when she was wandering around with sheets wrapped about her body, it said wonders about her state of mind.

Still in bright spirits, she grabbed her plate and turned back round to the table, giving Sono a long and hard look, laughing inside her thoughts at his obvious distress over this matter of last night. What was he getting so worked up about anyway? It was starting to worry Sera that something serious had happened, but surely if that was the case, he would have told her.
Setting her plate down on the table, she waited a few seconds before sitting down,
“I didn’t kill anyone did I? It tends to happen a lot around me… In my last life, I was in London, not too long ago… a few decades I think… Anyway, I distinctly remember this homeless guy who got in my way…” She paused for a moment, smiling to herself and shaking her head, “Spontaneous human combustion… Haha, as if…” Still chuckling to herself at the thought of someone dying at her hands, Sera grabbed her trusty fork and began stabbing more of the meat she had piled up. Looking up at Sono to smile softly; he looked so cute when he was all flustered, unable to fully express whatever it was that was eating away at his thoughts.

[Jyon]

About 6:40 pm the night before

A cheap midi file of Bach’s Concerto in D Minor began playing. The muffled sounds coming from Asher’s pocket. He barely noticed, simply burying his face deeper into the luxurious down pillow, the midi stopped and Asher sighed, waiting for sleep to reclaim him. The phone began vibrating inside his pocket, causing him to pull it out and slam it onto the night stand next to him, he gripped it hard enough he felt the plastic shell cracking in an effort to silence the vibrations. When the infernal device was finally still for a few moments he relaxed and put his arm back under the pillow. The phone went off again, this time an obscenely loud alarm blaring from the tiny speakers. He snatched the phone from the stand, flipped it open and stared at the brightly back-lit screen with a severely blood-shot eye.

“What?” he groaned into the phone.

“I’ll take that tone with you if I want to, you’re the one who called… Yeah…. Yeah… No… Well that’s just silly… No… Because… Because you’re stupid… Are too… Are too… Are t- look I’m not getting into this with you right now… I’ve been there before, there’s one every year… I don’t care who’s there… There’s what? Just get – Whaddya mean she ain’t… Really? I mean, really?... You’re serious?... Augh…” Asher clapped the phone shut, ending the call. He threw on a black t-shirt, his running shoes, and made sure he still had his belt on around the waist of his jeans. Asher opened the window and went down the fire-escape. After reaching street level he blended in perfectly with the pedestrian traffic. Most of the holiday revelry was just now beginning, people in costume en route to whatever parties they had been invited to, or intent on crashing whichever looked the most interesting. He soon arrived at the park where things were just approaching full swing. He followed the crowds and music, wandering among the ambient smoke and fog made by the quiet machines hidden in the bushes. Up ahead he saw his target, a dimly lit, empty stage with a karaoke machine and some large, expensive speakers.

“Arright, where th’ell’s he?” Asher asked aloud, though to no one in particular. There was a chill in the air, a t-shirt and jeans was a horrible choice for the weather, but he’d been asked to hurry and of course, now he was regretting it. Asher jammed his hands in his pockets, looking down at the ground and cursing. There was a tingle down his spine, his only warning. A dark arm was about to wrap around his wind pipe, and someone’s chest was pressed against his back. Asher tucked his chin to his chest and barely got his fingertips in before the man’s grip tightened around his neck. Asher tried to throw his head back and stun the man behind him, but found himself unable to do more than flex his neck. This man was clearly experienced since the first thing he did was stick to Asher better than Gorilla Glue. Asher released one of his hands, landing a sharp, quick body shot with a rearward elbow. There was a cry of surprise from his attacker, while Asher bucked his hips backwards to offset the attacker’s center of balance. Asher stepped forward, simultaneously bringing his attacker’s arm across his body and flexing with his entire core. There was that disturbing moment of clarity in the middle of the throw, where Asher noticed just how close he was to eating dirt, where his muscles just completed launching his attacker, where momentum and gravity were about to take over. The attacker hit the ground first, followed by Asher dropping his bodyweight on him, and completing the forward roll and jumping back to a standing position. Upon turning around to face his attacker Asher came out of his stance, which for him involved simply dropping his right hand back to his side and bringing his feet about an inch closer.

“Jeezus man don’ do that.” Asher said as he offered a hand to Cecil.

“Pff, you need to get laid man. Bad. I’unno if it’s poss-ble to die from stress, but if it is I bet you’ll be the first.” Cecil dusted himself off. He was clad in dark jeans, a fitted white T, and a Tapout hoody.

“Shutit. So what’cha need? What’s this ‘big emergency’?” Asher went so far as to flex his fingers in air quotes.

“Yer lookin’ at it.” Cecil said, flicking his eyes towards the empty karaoke stage.

“What, behind the stage?” Asher stood on his tiptoes, trying to peer over the stage and through the dark curtains on the back.

“It is the stage.” Cecil said, breaking out a handsome, wry grin. Asher’s face warped to an expression somewhere between horror and anxiety.

“Aw what’s wrong? Yer decent t’say the least, let’s git up there, have some fun!” Cecil said, smiling and slapping Asher on the shoulder.

“Man, I’s still sleepin’ off last night when you called. I ain’t tryin’ ta do nothin’ but have a quiet night tonight.” Asher groaned.

“You should hydrate more.” Cecil said, addressing his problem and ignoring his feelings, like always. Asher slapped his forehead down into both palms before running his fingers along his scalp.

“See, yer not listenin’-“ Asher protested.

“Nah man, I got it. We’ll just get some food an’ get out, aight?” Cecil said, already ushering him towards the buffet table, the side that was closer to the bar that had been set up for the night.

One plate of hotwings and seven shots of tequila later

No sir!

Well I don’t wanna’ be the blame! Not anymore

It’s your turn! To take a seat we’re settling

The final score

And why do we like to hurt so much

Asher was on stage, belting out some Paramore in his best alto (which was pretty good, especially as far as karaoke standards are considered). A small group of party goers had gathered around the stage and were cheering for him, while Cecil, who was supposed to be singing back-up, was laughing his a** off. Something about hearing a natural tenor sing like a young woman being completely hilarious in his opinion. Asher’s immediate popularity lasted for about three more songs until a few more revelers got enough gumption to try. Asher relinquished the mic and picked Cecil up from where he was still laughing before they both moved on. They tried a few bars before finding their way into a rather upscale club. There were multiple costume choices but the overall theme of the club seemed to be magic, witches and wizards looking like something from Harry Potter, if Harry Potter had been rated X, and all manner of fae creatures lusting for a taste of the mortal realm. Although Asher was too inebriated to notice at the time, he would have been rather interested to learn that only a little less than half of the people in the club were actually in costume.

Asher remembered sitting at the bar and talking to a lovely woman whom he thought was merely dressed as a dark fairy or maybe a demoness, it was hard to tell. She had dark skin, fair features, a petite figure, and striking eyes that simply commanded his attention. He remembered having a conversation that was barely audible over the pounding trance music of the club. He remembered trying to leave when her boa snaked around his neck, pulling him down to her level. He remembered her taste, and the rush he felt (for his luck with the fairer sex was, in his own words, ‘generally abysmal’). Then he remembered her boyfriend and some of his buddies who didn’t take too kindly to Asher making a move on his girlfriend.

Her boyfriend came in with a right cross. Asher stepped to the outside, catching the wrist with his right hand, and locking the elbow out with his left hand. The man yelped from the jolt of pain as Asher’s left hand continued to move up the man’s arm and wrapping around the back of his neck. Asher circled away from the bar, using his body’s build-up of momentum to bring the man’s head down into the edge of the bar counter. Asher’s heart was pounding in his chest, his adrenaline had spiked, and his eyes had begun to dilate.

The second man came at him with a bar stool. Asher was caught once by surprise, but only once. There was a dull thud as the stool impacted with the solid wall of his back. Asher spun around before the second blow could fall, shattering the wood with the blades of his forearms, a few splinters breaking off into the skin. Asher caught one of the wooden legs before it could fall, jabbing into the diaphragm of the attacker. The man doubled over in pain as he stepped back. Asher took a firm two-handed grasp before landing a baseball swing into the man’s face. The wooden leg clattered to the floor as the man crumpled. Asher was smiling now, he felt amazing, ecstatic even. His whole body tingled, his stomach and groin felt warm and his legs wouldn’t stop twitching.

The final man brandished a cheap switch blade. Clearly he was either extremely loyal, or extremely stupid. He came down with a slash, which Asher neatly side-stepped. The man came back across with another slash, which passed harmlessly over Asher’s head. He was going to come back with a stab but never got the chance. Asher circled his arm around the man’s blade-arm, locking the man’s wrist in his armpit, leaving the switchblade to futilely cut at the air behind him. Asher brought his other fist into the man’s ribs with thunderous force, causing him to jump and his knees to weaken. The next blow broke the ribs, another cracked his solar plexus, one to crush the wind pipe, and one final shot to shatter his cheek. The fact that the fight was now over left Asher feeling pent up and frustrated. Such an amazing build up only to be denied that sweet release he so deeply craved. Cecil had said he needed to get laid after all. As a subject of Project Biowulf, and therefore a creature manufactured for the sake of battle, a few things had been rewired in his body and mind. Of course there were the hallmark changes like increased resistance to damage, and a physical potential naturally higher than most humans and on par with some supernatural creatures. Where the real breakthrough had been was in the brain. Most creatures (humans being no exception) were hard-wired for sex, procreation, the passing on of genes, and propagation of the species is what carried humanity through some four to five thousand years and led them to establish dominance over the planet as a species. It only seemed natural to incorporate this powerful instinct into a combat mindset. To put it plainly, Asher craved battle the same way normal people craved sex. This meant that fighting and foreplay often resulted in the same physiological reaction. This was why Asher, when sober, was a strict pacifist. It was also why he no longer sparred with females outside the CLOAK compound.
Asher turned back to the bar, the dark fairy was still there and, to her credit, seemed more impressed with the display than anything else. Despite his loose jeans she could still clearly see the state he was in. Asher, now consumed by self-loathing over his shameful conduct and feeling horribly embarrassed over his current predicament, sought only to apologize and find a quiet place to take care of himself. He yelled this into her daintily pointed ear over the pounding music of the club. She told him she wanted to take responsibility, since it was her ex and his friends that were at fault for Asher’s current state. He remembered going to a dark room, moving and sweating until even the slightest caress made lightning race across their skin.

Thanks to a powerful memory spell (that would later result in a massive migraine thanks to the conflict it would cause with his geis) the only thing Asher remembered after that was feeling absolutely drained, and deliciously sore all over.

---

One of the large double doors quietly opened just enough for a man to slip his body through. A bare right arm came through first, bruised and battered knuckles, a scraped up forearm, and a noticeable farmer's tan that ran halfway up his bicep. He palmed about the other door for a few moments before grasping some sort of unseen handhold. Taking a firm grasp he pulled the rest of himself through the small gap in the doorway. Once he was all the way inside he politely closed the door behind him. A white fedora with a black band, a black and purple feather boa, mirrored Oakley shades that wrapped around his eyes, a blood-stained wife-beater, only some of which was actually his, some khaki pants, and a black pair of Vans with white accents. His left arm bore similar injuries to the right, with the addition of a single hand-cuff from which a broken chain was dangling.

Once he was safely inside he took a deep breath and seemed somewhat relieved. He turned around and tried to take a step forward. He staggered horribly before spinning on his heels and coming to a stop on his toes, before he could lose his balance again he popped out of it, one heel flaring out while the ball of the opposite foot spun him into the right direction. While facing the door he began trying to walk forward, and made progress in the completely opposite direction. It was a twisted parody of the moonwalk that carried him all the way to the opposite wall. When he completely hit the wall he stopped and slid down, his legs going straight out, his palms touching the floor and his head lolling to one side. It was easily apparent that in addition to still being quite trashed, he hadn’t slept at all the night before. If one possessed the keen sense of thought to examine his aura, and were actually able to see it in its’ currently diminished condition, they would notice the two dichotomous energies that should have naturally been tearing him apart from the inside out.

“Oh man…. Whaddanight.” Asher said as he put his hat on the ground. He pulled his shirt up and over his shoulders before burying his face in the crumpled fabric. It was soaked from the rain, the cool moisture felt wondrous against his face which was still burning with alcohol. His body was toned and fit, the chiseled muscle groups knitted together, each in proportion to the other. His was a body that moved through space, instead of sitting on benches using leaden weights to build puffy, bloated muscles and fake strength. Using his own weight he had managed to turn his own body into a single cohesive, powerful, and downright lethal unit. He pulled the shirt away from his face, the Oakleys came away with it. He proceeded to wipe at the lenses, trying to dry them off. Though the fact that he was using a soaked shirt seemed to elude him. There was something unsettling about his eyes, though his face clearly conveyed that he was tired, and dark bags were becoming more evident, his eyes were wide open. The pupils were heavily dilated, so much so that the iris seemed almost invisible, a thin sliver of hazel nearly eclipsed by the dark open hole of the pupil. He looked around the lobby, his empty, unblinking gaze fixing onto each person.

There was a tiger, the androgynous purple-haired desk clerk who had checked him in, a scruffy one-eyed homeless pirate, and several – wait, a tiger? Asher did a double, and then a triple take, fixing the large humanoid with his unwavering, bloodshot eyes. He still hadn’t blinked either. And several women who brought to mind 3oh3’s Starstrukk remix featuring Katy Perry. There was the shirtless red-head displaying her nice ink, the dark-skinned beauty next to her, a strawberry-blonde decked out in – goth loli or punk-chic he couldn’t tell – and a pink haired woman who looked like she was more suited to a Victorian funeral. Were he sober enough to stand without feeling like he would fly off the Earth as it spun, he probably would have tried to talk to one or three of them. However since he wasn’t sure if he was actually seeing one or three of each he decided it was best to say nothing.

“I don’t suppose there’s anyone here feeling charitable enough to help me get to some breakfast eh?” he seemed rather articulate despite how intoxicated he smelled. He put the fedora and shades back on, and held his hands up, hopefully for some helpful soul to grab and haul him to his feet. Unfortunately Asher underestimated how crucial they were to his balance. He slowly collapsed to one side, his head smacking into the floor with a dull thud.

“Ow.” He muttered, finally closing his eyes behind the mirrored shades, not sleeping, simply in pain.

((Not proofread, not spell-checked, but done enough that I can post at least.))

[Yoshkun]

The Firebird
不死鳥.

It took the soft words that passed through Sera's parted lips for those amber eyes to ignite into a bright blaze, lifting his neck ever so slightly to stare hotly into her amused expression. In her own way, the phoenix had his conscious cornered in a frightful game of the cat and mouse with the giant paw of guilt clutching onto him with its thick and menacing set of claws. He ran his tongue over his front teeth stubbornly, narrowing his piercing golden stare into every inch of the sheet draped goddess. Damn, he thought as his temper boiled internally, knowing he couldn’t let the wicked thought of obliterating some innocent sap's life by her fiery grasp weigh down her own conscious like some sort of unforgiving rusty anchor; even though by the way she ended that thought it didn’t seem as if she cared either way.”No, you didn’t kill anyone that I can remember. I spent some time in London too...but I didn't enjoy it much, to be honest. I mean the atmosphere was great in some places but the food makes me glad that we have the fruit you seem to be so thoroughly mocking.” His lips tugged upwards slightly, leaning back into his chair and folding his arms neatly over his chest while continuing to glare at her with an otherwise amused expression; he had decided begrudgingly on what needed to be said. If Sera so clearly relished the twisted and passionate images swimming about in a murky set of memories, then he would no longer keep her in the dark of events prior to breakfast. The delicious swagger that had become part of this current illusion returned, a soft grin brightening his once soured expression as his aurora flared to a vibrant glow. Alright, you’ve talked me into it. I’ll tell you what happened last night. However, I don’t want other people to hear so I’m going to speak to you directly. So a little discretion would be appreciated, love. We’ll discuss your ‘attire’ later…”

So, with the two firebirds connected through private mental communications, Sono began to fill in those insidious gaps still looming as if missing pieces from a complicated puzzle. To aid his presentation, he also disabled his cerebral defenses and granted her access to a certain portion of his mind to see “images” of what he was referring to as he spoke of them. He began to talk about the park at first, lamenting how furious and jealous he had been of those drunkard humans who squeezed dollar bills into the tight confines of her leather costume, and how he had dealt them swift justice with a little inferno of his own. Sometime after that came the bizarre games of tag, which sent various shrubbery and citizens into a sizzling blaze that would have fireman scattered grumpily about the grounds for weeks to come. They soon left the party after that and began chasing each other down various sidewalks and street corners, drunkenly stumbling over at times and having fits of laughter to accompany those moments when they seemed at their funniest. Unfortunately for New City, their innocent little games would cause buildings, shops, carts, more people, and even one little poodle to go up in glorious flame. Somehow they made their way back to the Elysium in the middle of the night, leaving one to guess if it was based on instinct or purely luck. Either way, Sono took a momentary pause in his thoughts when a wave of apprehension washed over his demeanor, his cheeks flushing into a deep crimson as his once determined stare became completely skittish. Still, he had set out to slay this inner demon once and for all, so he simply turned his head and pouted childishly before continuing. Well, the pseudo phoenix had miraculously gotten Sera to Room 3 without too much property damage...and found they were completely alone in the room. It might not have been a surprise to Sera that the chef Bob wasn't snoring loudly in his bed across the way, but to Sono it was a relatively shocking discovery considering the tipsy state he was in. With all of the pent up energy that had built up over the course of the evening and the alcohol intake preventing him from even attempting to lasso in these rogue emotions; Sono cut loose. He wasn’t too charming verbally with his lips barely able to come together in an effort to pronounce slurred vowels, so he let his hungry body do the talking. It would probably surprise Sera how ‘starving’ and dominate he could be, like a growling pit-bull as he pushed her down to the bed and immediately found those magnificent lips; his arms coming down on either side of her as if he were guarding an improbable escape. There was no teasing caress of her cheek or joking press of chest against chest now, his roaring aurora intertwined and consumed hers completely and would not let up until both were completely and utterly satisfied. From then on, any more explanation that Sera needed Sono would try to avoid using vulgar words for the passion they shared but often found it hard to explain it properly without them; even with the added hand gestures. After wrapping up this seemingly embarrassing conversation, he added that he had only been up an hour longer than her to catch a hot bath. Oh, and he might have ripped her leather costume in half, too.

“…And that’s everything I could remember.” He mumbled, arms still folded as his cheeks had lightened to a bright pink now that he was finished but it was clear by his body language that he was still rather disturbed by the whole experience.”Fine, go ahead and laugh! See if I care! It’s no secret that you’re attractive and with this cursed mask I can’t help myself!” Although he hadn’t realized it in his immense frustration, he had gotten up from his chair and was now standing menacingly over the table with his palms furiously pressed into the white tablecloth.”Have I thought about taking that stupid sheet from you and wiping that little smirk off your lips right here and now?! Yeah, I have!! And another thing--…..hey, is that mango??” His voice was only a little louder than it normally was (which was yelling for him), but the glistening fruit out of the corner of his eye caused the smoldering orbs and flourishing aurora to lessen considerably as his attention became fully focused on it; she could thank her short attention span for that. Without finishing his thought, he strolled up the buffet and happily plucked the mango from its chilled plate; taking a large bite out of it and licking off the excess mango juices that washed upon his lips after swallowing.”Oh God, I love mango's! Bob...you're totally awesome!” He exclaimed happily, tilting his head and grinning wickedly in such a way that the undead chef would surely have horrid flashbacks of his ‘roomie’ if he wasn't careful. With his temper apparently cooled by the sweet taste of fruit, Sono returned to his seat and propped his feet upon the tabletop; taking another bite of mango and humming happily to himself.”Gee…I forgot what I was going to say. Haha…It probably didn’t matter anyway.” He laughed softly and wiped his mouth on his sleeve, smiling pleasantly before taking yet another bite while watching the phoenix possibly start on her second plate of breakfast. It was becoming apparent that Sera’s mask was having a bizarre effect on Sono’s persona, even more so than any other mask had in thousands of years of experimenting. In some ways, Sono was happier than he ever cared to remember.

[Kitsune]

They must have mingled in that crowd for a good three hours before either felt safe eough to leave.

Dallas and Yaritza generally traveled alone, but both were party animals at heart and felt most comfortable among party revelers; steeped in alcoholic beverages, surrounded by hopping music and breathing in the pleasant air that came with celebrations. Though they came from entirely different backgrounds with differing circumstances that ultimately brought them together, they found their common ground there and behaved as if they had always been friends. They ate, drank, danced and mingled, partaking in the high spirits and nearly growing intoxicated off of them. It was the first time she attended such a large celebration since the great festival where she was kidnapped and it brought Yaritza great comfort to be there. Dallas, on the other hand, knew the dangers of getting too caught up, too distracted. Being the more cautious of the pair, he always kept one ear to the ground and one eye scanning his surroundings, trying to keep an eye out for his youkai pursuers and perhaps those CLOAK people they heard about in whispers among the non-humans. He didn't doubt that earlier dance number would draw their attentions if only briefly. Yes, Halloween brought out all sorts and he didn't want to get caught with his pants down.

As the party started to wind down and more and more people began to leave the park, the two party-goers chose to take their leave as well. They slipped out just as easily as they slipped in, taking the back alleys instead of the streets. New City was an entirely different place at night. Yaritza was most affected by it, her sensitive hearing sparing her no reprieve from the horrors that dwelled just out of sight. The hair on the back of her neck stood on edge when she heard the muffled cries of a woman before they were silenced forever by an inhuman force. The sound of flesh being ripped from the body, blood drained like water, and the crunching of bones made her own skin shudder and her tails bristle. This city that once seemed so bright and full of hope during the day had taken on an entirely different appearance at night. Instinctively, she moved closer to her companion, sorely wishing they were somewhere a little safer, a little brighter, and a little less foreboding. Ignoring her apprehension, Dallas led them into an alley where he felt they might be safe for the night. He didn't have the money to spend on lodging currently (something he would certainly remedy in the morning), so they would have to make do with what they were given. A brief conversation with some prissy feline man revealed the location of an inn they could possibly stay in, but Dallas was uncertain. Something about the matagot made him uncomfortable, and it wasn't just his personality. The elf just didn't feel he could trust him entirely and the inn he spoke so highly of could have easily been a trap. Cerano moved on and the two returned to the alley. Taking up a spot on the porch of a business closed for the night, the elf used his cape as a cover and his scarves bundled up to form a pillow. Stretching out to take up all of the room, he left Yaritza to stake out her own shelter. The fox found a cardboard box and pulled some old newspaper into it, taking her vulpine form in hopes her fur would make things a little more comfortable. Settling in, she tucked her tails around and buried her face beneath them. And that was how they spent their night.

Stirred by the box suddenly flopping down on her, Yaritza yelped and jumped out from beneath it. Her temporary shelter was no match against the pounding rain and it mercilessly rendered the box useless, turning it into little more than a pile of soaked cardboard and newspaper. Looking around in hopes of finding somewhere dry she could retreat to, the soaked and shivering fox shook herself vigorously and licked the water from her muzzle. Unfortunately for her, there was only one place that provided decent shelter from the rain and there wasn't much room since Dallas was already curled up in the spot, sleeping peacefully and dry beneath his cape-blanket. She knew the elf enough to know any attempt she might make to try and squeeze in beneath the overhang with him would only result in him shoving her back out into the rain so she sat on the stair just beneath the edge. Her tails curled closely next to her and she sighed. The rain was still pelting her, but at least it wasn't as much. It was during times like these that the displaced vixen missed her home and family. Sure they were annoying at times and she wished she could be away from them a while when their presences became too much, but in the end she wouldn't have traded her old life for anything. Though she should have been question whether the elf really was her key to getting home, she didn't. She wanted to believe he would help her return home as he promised.

A few hours passed before Dallas finally sat up with a healthy yawn and stretched. Unlike his companion, he had a fairly restful night and even felt comfortable enough to sleep in an hour longer than he normally would. The rain disturbed him a little, but he was dry and comfortable so he didn't let it ruin his rest. He glanced at the damp fox sitting in front of him then looked out into the empty alley. She looked absolutely miserable, but he said nothing to her.

The long night coupled by the rain was more than enough to convince Yaritza that staying at the inn the cat man had spoke of would have been better. She also wanted to take a nice hot bath more than anything. The vixen sat by and watched him gather his belongings and slip them back on, her thoughts lingering on how she could convince him to look past his uncertainties. She took her humanoid form once more, begrudgingly hiding her ears and tails from view while changing her outfit to something a little more suitable for the environment. It covered more, but it along with her shortened hair also made her look more like a boy than anything else. The elf also used an illusion to cover his long ears. He absolutely refused to change his clothing, though. He made a few more adjustments to his sash as he gave his thoughts on the day before. Already they both missed Halloween and the freedom it gave them to be themselves, but once they left the city and the threats that lurked within it, they could afford to be a little lax. Until then, they would rely on illusions. Once everything was together, they stood together beneath the shelter of the overhang and debated on where they should go next. Dallas wanted to leave the city, but Yaritza wanted to visit that inn the flamboyant man in the snazzy clothes had mentioned. The prospect of a nice dry place where she could get a hot bath and a meal was just too tempting to ignore.

[Lightlender]

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

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

"People always misjudged me. I can't say they were wrong for it. I've made quite an image for myself, a really bad one. But most people just don't realize that after you've actually seen the world as a whole, you really don't get the opportunity to live as you please. Life sets out the main course, the side dishes, and the deserts. And you, whether you want to or not, gotta eat it all until it's gone…until your stomach's nearly about to ******** burst."

"Well if it isn't the human-turned-demon. How's it shakin' these days, Zeph? Where's the fleabag?" Heaven mused, his ears turning back to intercept the familiar voice. He hadn't expected her to show up, and since the huge steel doors and the scent of smoke surrounding her continually marred her scent. Heaven liked to believe that Zephyrine was constantly smoking in order to travel incognito—especially with demons out there who could smell her coming a mile away. Not that it was a bad scent; Zephyrine Anderson was the one flesh-bag he'd come to tolerate. After all, at one point in time, they'd been quite close. But Heaven put the memories out of sight and out of mind until a later date, where walks down memory lane could be explored in full. For now, he simply waved without really looking back at the woman for the fear of his memories being dashed upon a very sharp stone. The Hollow Witch assumed many forms over the years, blondes, brunettes, red-heads—she could be anything. Heaven liked to always remember her as the stunning beauty with spit-fire hair and darkened eyes. "And it's 'HEAVEN' now, no 'Feather'. Just Heaven."

"You two KNOW each other?" Namir blurted, a look of surprise registering on his fuzzy face. What was going on, anyhow? He was still trying to gather the fact that Zephyrine had made a surprise visit after standing him up last night – likely just to throw it back in his face – and now she and this riff-raff were apparently friends of some sort. The Caspian was smarter than he looked, but sometimes it was the small and coincidental things that left his brain struggling to compute. Heaven glanced up at the baffled brute, then spared a sidelong glance at the Witch before a sinister smirk crept onto his face.

"Lemme guess. Zephy didn't tell you 'bout me, did she? Aww, that's a shame. Don't worry, she usually keeps her minions in the dark. Don't take it too personal." Heaven hummed, placing a hand squarely on his hip—blood began creeping down his arm, bleeding through the fabric of his sleeve. Namir sighed, worried more about the demon's injuries more than the explanation that Zephyrine would likely withhold, no matter how hard he pressed for one. Although it had been nearly ten years since they last saw each other face-to-face, Namir knew that the Hollow Witch would never change.

"I'm not a minion. I don't serve her. Now, c'mon. It's time to take a look at those wounds." he growled, turning his fiery blue eyes toward his mentor, the Hollow Witch. "You're free to watch, if you're interested in catching up on old times in the interim." he coldly spat, wondering if she took offense at how he completely ignored her chastising comment about the fight. He'd grown since they last met, matured, and no longer craved the thrill of the fight enough to ignore his common sense. In short, he was no longer a child chasing after Faze's tail, Meredith's paw, or Schader's whimsical bedtime tales. And he definitely wasn't seeking her approval after abandoning him. Namir led Heaven back to his room after leaving Janet with a firm nod. The lobby was getting quite cramped, especially with Boy George's drunken nephew stumbling through the door. If the smell of booze reeking within his pores didn't instantly turn you away, the nearly-pink fedora did. There was no further reason to linger around in the lobby and the sooner Namir could escort the nekomata away, the calmer everything would become. The cat demon didn't argue with this logic, as he had little strength left to complain anyway. As they walked, he stumbled once or twice in the halls, resorting to using the banister railing to steady himself as they ascended the stairs. Namir paused, reaching back to help him—but the ancient demon shrugged his aid away with a quick snarl. The tiger sighed and shook his head. The arrogant little thing could suit himself, then. If he bled to death along the way, it would make Namir's job easier in pronouncing him dead on arrival. But the strangest thing happened. The Nekomata began to cough, producing a deep gurgling noise that made all the more sense when the smaller feline hacked up a sticky wad of blood into his hand. Namir grabbed his wrist and pulled him all the way back to his room. "You're dying."

The ancient grinned, a bloody smile spreading from ear to ear despite the pained expression he wore. "Heh. Not likely. This is probably that new Swine Flu goin' around." The Tiger grumbled at the carefree response, dragging Heaven into his room. He wasted no time shoving the feline onto his broken bed, careful to keep as quiet about the issue as possible since Unique was still out cold in her bed. It seemed Heaven was used to making spot repairs to himself. Before Taiga could tell him to shed his unnecessary clothing, Heaven was already out of his hoodie and peeling the ruby-soaked t-shirt up over his head. The smaller cat was unexpected well defined, boasting a body layered in battle scars young and old. He could see the presence of old injuries that were likely stitched back together on the fly, done quickly and inefficiently, but had healed nonetheless. Namir quickly moved to the bathroom to soak a washcloth and returned with it, callously flinging it over to Heaven—who caught it and began systematically rubbing himself down to clean away all the blood.

"You could have killed me before my claws ever reached your heart." Namir mentioned, leaning leisurely against the wall. He wouldn't pretend he hadn't actually lost out in their skirmish downstairs. Heaven had trained the gun on his head before he'd managed to get close enough, drawing a dead bead before simply waiting the ticking milliseconds down until the tiger was close enough to react. At any given moment between those fleeting fragments of a second, Heaven could have squeezed the trigger and removed all remnants of the Erstwhile Tiger from this world. Yet he hadn't. He'd let Namir off with his pride intact. Heaven's single blue eye roamed between the three bullet holes in his chest, scarcely batting an eyelash at the fact Namir realized. Heaven seemed more concerned with his injuries now, although it was interesting how the small cat never flinched when nursing such grievous wounds. Taiga was beginning to wonder if someone who claimed to be 'daiyoukai' could even feel pain whenever it presented itself. Silence fell between them like a veil, blanketing the two for several minutes, until Heaven found he'd satisfactorily cleaned the drying blood caked around his rooms to some degree. That's when he spoke up.

"…so what? I felt charitable."

Namir stepped closer, pressing his enormous hand to the nekomata's chest, his thumb gentle combing over the first of three holes where two bullets must have passed through—the final still lodged somewhere inside. The tiger snuffed derisively. He'd hoped to have avoided going in after the round, but he couldn't simply leave it in. Human metals were like a poison to youkai, a fact Namir as well-aware of. If left in, it would slowly pollute Heaven's system like a petulant cancer. It had to be dug out. "Don't act coy. You know precisely what I'm gettin' at, Mr. Heaven. What are you?" Namir pressed, pausing for a second. "I won't help you unless you come clean. I'll leave this bullet in and no matter how powerful you are, you'll be infected and die a slow and painful death…you really willin' to risk that over selfish pride?" Namir insisted, glaring down at the much smaller demon. Heaven closed his eye and sighed, flushing out much of his haughty air and pretenses. In a split second, everything about him shifted and softened—save for the violent look in his glowing blue eye.

"…I'll tell you. You have my word. Just take the bullet out. It's really starting to hurt…okay?" Heaven pleaded, the audacity draining from his raspy voice. One could easily see that putting on airs constantly took a heavy toll on the old demon, and it was finally time to shed the false skins of his personality. He sat quietly, glaring up with an unflinching gaze that actually unnerved the enormous tiger from eagerly proceeding into his task. It was like being seen nude in a sense, consumed as a whole and then filtered down to one's barest essentials—Heaven wasn't looking directly at him; the demon was looking at everything he'd possibly ever been in the past, would be presently, and could ever become in the distant future. Daunted by the discover which took no words, no gestures to explain, the tiger merely took a step back to inhale it all. Heaven could see the Threads of Fate, something his teacher – Master Wong – had explained to him many years ago. In times of extreme grief or enlightenment, there were always those who evolved into something more, something profoundly inexplicable—they could see the scope of the world as though all the infinitesimal pathways and individual choices one could make were nothing more than the reflections cast from a glass bead in the palm of their hand. And what Heaven said next, confirmed it. "…I'm a stitch, kid. A pointless little seam holding together a meaningless corner of a much grander tapestry for far longer than I care to remember." Heaven moved his hand gracefully up to sweep the hair from his remaining eye, sighing softly as ethereal blue smoke filtered from beneath his eyepatch. "…youkai, immortal, demon, demi-god…humans have given me over a hundred names thus far. I scarcely remember them all anymore. Now, if that answers your question—this bullet?" Heaven insisted. Despite listing 'immortal' amongst a list of names he'd been called, the bullet in his chest was very real and very capable of killing him. Urgency was of the very essence.

Namir nodded slowly, rotating his neck to crack the stiffness from his shoulders with a few audible pops. It had been years since he last used the teachings of Master Wong to such ends, healing a wound which would undoubtedly prove fatal without intervention. "…well, then…I should warn you that this might feel a bit uncomfortable. Try to bear with it." Namir advised, slowly lowering his clawed hands to the feline's stomach. An unnatural warmth could be felt emanating from the tiger's palms, as though his hands were heating up from some unseen furnace. Heaven could ignore the discomfort well, but as the larger cat's hands began to expel a dusky smoke and a sizzling stench of burnt skin, the ancient demon looked down in disbelief to find the tiger's fingers simply sinking through his skin like a hot knife through butter. Heaven panicked, clasping both hands to Namir's wrist in an attempt to push the bestial 'doctor' back—Namir clasped a hand over the nekomata's entire face and shoved him down into the broken remains of the bed, digging his knuckles deeper into flesh that had taken on the consistency of boiled pudding. Heaven let out a blood-curdling scream, all to have it muted by Taiga's enormous hand over his face. "You're gonna have to keep it down. My roommate's still sleeping. This'll all be over in a minute or two."

"Ever felt your soul being torn to shreds? I don't mean that metaphorically for a heart-shattering break-up, or the death of a loved one. I mean, seriously, having your soul torn out of your dying corpse while you lay helpless to prevent it? I have. It happened when I died and became a soul-stealing monster. Boy, I never imagined I'd feel that sort of pain again…until a tiger began readjusting my intestines. Felt like I'd swallowed a burning-hot lump of coal with a swig of battery acid. Every breath made it worse; screaming only made the bile burn at the back of my throat. Even though I'm dead, I felt like I was going to die from the excruciating pain…"

They thrashed on the bed, Heaven kicking madly at the larger feline who merely pushed his face deeper down into the sheets and bore down, tearing into the nekomata's insides with a satisfied sort of vengeance that mimicked something predatory. Throughout the room, you could hear the sickening sound; bones were being pushed unnaturally out of place, organs simply shoved aside as the tiger's hand dug through blood and flesh in search of something as small as a nine-millimeter round. Heaven could feel it all firsthand, the tiger's clawed digits scraping past his heart, above his punctured left lung, before somehow piercing it with a talon and combing inside with two fingers until they touched something foreign—the lodged bullet. The act sent an electric jolt up Heaven's spine, one that caused him to suddenly arch forward with enough force to push the enormous feral cat back to the foot of the bed and finally off of him. He snapped Namir a wide-eyed glare, his face flushing with frenzied rage. "Wh-what th-the ******** was THAT?! You just….VIOLATED ME! You crazy sonovabitch! I swear to god I'm gonna kill the s**t outta y—" Heaven paused, quickly patting himself down—expecting there to be some sort of gaping hole where the tiger's enormous fist passed through him. But there was none, only a lingering pain and steam sizzling off his warm skin. "…what the hell was that, anyhow?" he mused, completely forgetting his tirade for a clear and present respect of such a technique. "Some Voodoo Witch Doctor magic?"

Namir looked at him crookedly, his ears folding back in disgust. "Tao mysticism. Anyhow, there's bad news and then there's worse news." Namir muttered softly. "The bullet's already begun to fuse into your system. I hadn't realized how swift your regenerative abilities must be. It already began breaking down the foreign compound. Although I got most of the bullet out—" He held up a small lump of metal that looked as though it had been melted down into an odd silver jellybean. "I'm almost positive some has reached your bloodstream by now. I don't know a great deal about your kind, however…human metals can…"

"I don't remember how many times I've died, or was supposed to have died—but didn't. I've gone through the process so much that death no longer scares me anymore. It's like being told you have terminal cancer when you're already dying of AIDS. You know? I mean, what else can this world do to me that I haven't already suffered? I could see it on this guys big fluffy face—he didn't understand how I could shrug the issue off so calmly. It's simple, really. I've stopped caring about life and death, ages ago. I exist now simply for the task I feel compelled to finish. Nothing more, nothing less. This body, this world, this life…they all mean nothing to me. I just don't give a ******** anymore."

"Save it. I've watched Princess Mononoke. Twice. I know the deal." Heaven snapped, growling softly as he slipped back on his shirt and sweater. He hopped to the side of the bed and gruffly shoved the large orange cat back some, pushing past as he looked around the massive phantom for the door—only to realize he had no idea where he would go next. Seemingly helpless for a moment, he suddenly thrust a finger up at Namir, scowling. "I need a bath…and a hair-brush. Where's my room?" When the tiger merely shrugged, Heaven turned sharply and stormed out of the door, slamming it shut on his way out. "Thanks for nothing, jackass."



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

[Yoshkun]

The Fallen Angel
天使

“Destruction cometh; and they shall seek peace, and there shall be none.”

The stars that once shimmered like beautiful jewels in an otherwise darkened skyline were quickly clouded by thick puffs of gray smoke that masked the coming morning with equally thick droplets of rain that poured harshly upon the metropolis simply known as New City. Despite the pitter patter against the cement sidewalks and city streets, the eerie post-Halloween atmosphere was desolate and almost deathly silent. There were no witches or ghouls haunting the streets, no jack-o-lantern street lamps dimly lit in the shadows, and certainly no sticky bubblegum or toffee candy being dropped in the early morning dew; only the echo of continuous rainfall remained to give comfort to the awakening masses throughout the steel doldrums. There would be no bright orb of warmth to greet their fluttering stare however, as the misty aurora that painted the foggy foreground continued well past its welcome.

“I have lived since the Earth drew its first breath amongst great lungs of thick lands stretching far into borders unknown and exhaled with the great of roar of the oceans wake; and have loved it as my own ever since. It was my job to watch those who inherited this great lover from the heavens, beings with thoughts and emotions so strictly their own it was hard not to love them equally. They called themselves 'humans' and sat alone atop their bountiful throne, but as the centuries passed, the animals and elements around them also evolved to great heights; great beings humans couldn't quite fully understand yet...but hopefully would one day appreciate as I do. I don’t really have a name to give you, as our ancient dialect is not translatable by any language known on Earth…but you may call me Rune. I am but a mere angel, one who has sacrificed their eternal soul for these great people so that I may aid them in the madness that is to come. Heaven has turned a blind eye to their fate, but for the sake of the potential good nestled in the heart of every creature, I shall not."

Above the murky clouds which crowded an otherwise gloomy sky lie a glorious creature comparable to a giant raven ravaged by the flames of hell upon the tips of its wings and scalp. However, this was no simple bird; it was a man. The comparison to a bird was admirable though, as giant wings decorated with ruffled black feathers faltered helplessly against the back of this doomed figure in an effort to prevent him falling any further towards the rapidly increasing shape of city limits…to no avail. The aforementioned flames were the main cause to the listless flapping, barely able to purge themselves through the thick inferno the atmosphere so humbly burned every limb of the man’s body with; a flame so hot even the mighty phoenix would be humbled by its crisp touch. This was easily remedied as seconds ticked and the first line of clouds became but a faint memory, the waves of rain newly birthed from the nimbus formations washing away any remaining embers with a cold shudder that caused the man to gasp for his first breath of fresh air.

“Humanoids usually experience their first true breath upon exiting their mother’s womb, too young and inexperienced to understand the magnificence of it all. Now, imagine taking that same sensational breath in your early adulthood without nature’s nurturing caress and you’ll have only a mere taste of what I experienced. I remember how cold the rain felt pelting against my newly formed skin, the clenching of my firm jaw as I wanted to scream out in sheer agony from the repetitive tapping against my wounds.…yet inwardly I felt more relaxed than I could remember.”

The rain revealed much about the man’s features once the smoke had fizzled away from his pores, what once was mistakable as possibly a bird or a man was clearly much more. He had mostly matted tussles of black hair throwing wildly in the chilled wind but there were still remnants of a once luscious set of white locks in the few highlights that scattered just as furiously. His skin could be described as a creamy white complexion, his slender yet toned frame hidden under several layers of clothing. A stunning white jacket with fancy gold trimmings laced within the sleeves had been horribly marred to a nightmarish black that almost exactly mirrored the raven-like wings whom of which had gone completely limp by this point. Underneath laid a long sleeved shirt that had a woolly texture to it, like a sweater that came right up to his neck and retained the black theme so common upon his person. Keeping with this trend, the thickly padded fingerless gloves, pants that only could be described as resembling jeans and boots were also singed to charcoal black. Surprisingly, the only thing not burnt by the reaches of space was the various jewelry scattered about his body. There was a single ring of twenty four carat gold on each finger, each with a different ‘verse’ etched onto the band along with a cross made purely of silver that was currently floating but usually hung against his neck. One of the more interesting features to any being, the eyes, were firmly clasped shut as he plummeted; which made it hard to determine if they continued the dark trend or forged their own path.

“My sense of smell came next, the faint simmer of breakfast grills and exhaust pipes wafting speedily into my sniffling nostrils, sending distinct signals to my brain of various sensations...but I still couldn’t determine if I really enjoyed them or not. I don’t think I was really concerned with the smells of Earth quite yet, as a rough landing was assured and I didn’t know if I would survive the impact. I could feel the first pulse of adrenaline hit my heart as it thumped lightly against my aching chest, it reminded me that even though I wasn’t doing it the way I planned…I was going to get a chance at loving, hating, crying, laughing, and most importantly of all…living.”

All of these observations seem to slow the world to a standstill upon its axis, but the fall from immortal to mortal realms only took minutes, if not precious seconds. The crack of earth thudded loudly against Rune’s descendant, his wings clattering and banging against various windows and fire escapes before finally crashing beneath the thick pavement of the alleyway into a shallow crater that swallowed the fallen angel completely. There was no immediate reaction from any nearby civilians, as there were apparently very few about to gawk this early on a post holiday morn. Only the whistle of pouring rain mixed with dust and gravel settling filled the air after such a controlled explosion, not even a peep from the man who lay broken within his own mess of feathers and blood. A light stream of crimson dripped gently from parted lips as he took a recovering breath, eyelids fluttering open to blurred visions of incoming droplets and buildings above. The pupils shone so brightly ahead into the sky that one could confuse them with the yellow moons blinking profusely on a nearby cat, but they actually held a green tint to them that made them all his own. His breaths were soft and his limbs began to stir, his wings twitching in seething pain from landing so directly upon the friction of contact, almost pleading with their master to move so they somewhat relieve their agonizing stress.

“My first feelings of pain were overwhelming; a mixture of burns I had received with the cold feel of hard surface pushing up against my twisted spine tested the freshly carved bones beneath my flesh. Even though I could feel leakage of internal bleeding within my lungs which began dripping from my mouth, it was then I knew I was going to survive. As centuries of near isolation began to wipe away, I was almost emotional knowing that on a planet with billions of beings on nearly every stretch of land…I was never going to be alone again! There was still much to do, but in the stillness of my realizations I could feel two beings across the alley from where I landed; somehow they had familiar scents, or at least that’s what my brain told me. I had to see for myself.”

His fingers dug into the surface of the cement, using what little strength he had to pull his upper torso upright into a sitting position. His senses were definitively hazy, as things around him came in pairs of twos and sometimes threes, but it didn’t stop the angel from raising enough to get one foot flat onto the surface while the other pushed off crookedly and caused him to stumble into a standing position. He stood fairly tall at about six feet even, roughly the same height as Dallas, and retained the gentle yet dominating demeanor of an angel. His wings spread to full height, each touching a different side of the alley as they strengthened and tried to work out the kinks from all the bumps and bruises they had taken; not to mention being thrown into a pit of flames. All five senses were starting to come together now, the taste of blood now clearly palatable on his tongue, his hearing picking up several sounds of early morning yawns and shower nozzles mixing in with the downpour all across the block. His primary two senses, sight and smell, were still very much focused on the pair across the way. He still couldn’t see clear enough to get a good look at them, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he knew them somehow. Through all of the wild shots of pain that were making his nerves scream loudly, he still felt that he truly knew them. He tried to move ahead, moving one boot pass the other in an effort to get closer despite being a little ways from them, but the added weight of his wings caused him to teeter and eventually fall forward; almost like a clumsy drunk with a giant monstrosity on his back weighing him down. The landing wasn’t too rough and didn’t add any unnecessary injury, but his lungs let off a whispering moan as if to signify he wasn’t trying that again anytime soon.

“Ohhhh….that seriously hurt. I’d hate to say it, but I almost miss the lack of external touch. Almost. Though it would have have been nice to see the faces of my mysterious guests', as I really hope they’re not hungry demons looking for fresh blood. Their scents seemed too friendly, too exotic, to be anything too dangerous I should think. Only time will tell though, because they will get to me far before I can get to them.”

[Kitsune]

Causing much mayhem, droppin' drama.
Radical rebel with a need to bomber.
Fake MCs dare not hang 'em higher,
The mic is mine time to pay the piper.
________________________________

"I don't know... That man definitely had some weird vibes coming from him," the taller of the two insisted, his thoughts on how the man carried himself.

"But Dallas," the shorter of the two argued, "I am tired and wet and very hungry. I do not like to travel in this kind of weather." The downpour had done a number on her while he rested peaceful and dry beneath the overhang. The least the elf could do was honor her request and take her somewhere she could wash up and get a meal.

The current topic of their conversation was the prissy matagot they bumped into after the party last night. Dallas was still a little wary of him and didn't feel he could trust him. And not because he shamelessly flirted with the elf, much to his discomfort. How could someone who dressed as if he were the heir to some empire and had hundreds of servants at his beck and call, lower himself enough to walk around a filthy place like New City to shop? And why was he carrying so many bags of fabric and sewing supplies? Someone of his social casting should have had a butler with him to do that and a limo to carry him around the town. It wasn't a Halloween costume, either. The finery that surrounded Cerano was no act. It was practically ground into his intrinsic makeup. Things just didn't add up, though... He had to admit... Someone who could dress in such finery certainly must have had deep pockets. The elven warrior had enough funds to live on if he was thrifty but he knew his party would come to a premature end unless he came into some funds soon. There was the possibility of street performing. They had done it in the past; he playing the an instrument while Yaritza danced or turner herself into a performing animal to do tricks, and it generally brought in quite a bit of revenue (which he'd blow through in a New City minute). It was honest work. But with the weather as it was and him feeling about as inspired as an author with writer's block and a four month deadline, he really didn't feel like putting on a show. Pick-pocketing sounded more like his cup of tea and that hoity-toity matagot might prove to be a good mark.

"Dallas?" Yaritza asked, a little upset that he didn't appear to be listening to her. "Can we go? I need a bath."

"You do smell like a wet dog," he remarked a little callously. The fox, taking more offense to being compared to a dog than his being offended by her scent, brought her hands to her hips and frowned at him. What a thing to say! Here she was, suffering at his side, and he tells her she smells like a wet dog. He sensed her anger spike and turned his focus on her again, only slightly concerned with the anger evident in the depths of her icy blue eyes. He was just about to comment on how ridiculous her humanoid form looked when a flash of light streaked over her features. It had been much brighter than a flashlight, made even brighter by the dismal lighting in the alley. Yaritza noticed it to and quickly her eyes swept away from the man she was arguing with to the source of the light coming in fast. Neither knew what was coming, their thoughts came to the same conclusion--it was a youkai and it was heading their way. Terrified by the incoming mass of fire, the vixen jumped into her companion and her arms wrapped securely around him to hold her against his body. The addition of her body coming in so fast nearly knocked him off his feet and he staggered backward, arms flailing at his sides as he struggled to remain upright. "Heiko! What are you--," was all he managed to get out before his body pitched backwards and slammed into the locked door behind him. The wood eaten brittle by termites and worn by years of exposure to the weather snapped and crackled against the weight, unable to support it for more than a second before it gave in. Both Dallas and Yaritza fell through the old door into the cluttered room beyond it.

Both missed the arrival of the fiery figure they saw falling to the ground, but they heard it clearly in their ears and even felt the vibrations his impact sent outward through the ground. Lying flat on his back on a pile of splintered planks and pieces of wood, the elf's eyes opened from their narrowed slits and he pushed his shoulders up from the floor to try and look outside. Sprawled on top of him, Yaritza also lifted her head and turned it toward the gaping hole in the broken door, willing the dizziness to pass. Under the sound of the pounding rain outside, the residual cracking of the wood falling free from the door and shifting air in the room that was disturbed by their impromptu entrance, the vixen could hear the pulse of the life of something that had not been there previously. To her senses it sounded like a thumping heartbeat, repetitive but slow. It felt like subtle waves of displaced energy pushing off of it and washing over her in time with the beating. There was something else out there; she was sure of it. She just didn't know what. Dallas also felt something was out there though his senses weren't quite as astute as the woman. If only he could confirm with a visual.

"What was that?" she asked, effectively breaking the unsteady silence between them.

"Shh~" he hissed at her, pushing her head aside none too gently to try and get a better view outside. Whoever it was must have landed a short distance away. Aside from a few lazy tendrils of smoke carried on the breeze, he could see nothing from his position. After a moment, he pushed himself up in a seated position before shoving Yaritza off of him completely. "Is it a youkai?" he asked in a hushed whisper. Would a youkai really risk falling from the sky in broad daylight in a crowded city just to bring him in? The forest guardian's minions weren't stupid. "Go check it out."

The vixen wasn't sure and didn't want to go out there on her own. Dallas pushed her again, assuring her that she wouldn't be alone and he'd be behind her. Maybe not right behind her, but he'd be around. Believing he wouldn't abandon her outright, she pushed herself up on her bare feet and took a tentative step forward before pausing to listen. Only the sound of the rain met her ears and the quiet urging from her male companion behind her. She glanced back at him then pushed forward, peeking through the broken door before pushing her head outside to have a better look around. It did not take long for her to locate the being as he lifted himself from the crater he created when he landed. A hand, his head and shoulders, and a set of wings were the first things she saw as he gathered himself. Her breathing slowed to a crawl before braking all together, Yaritza unaware that she was even holding it in as she beheld a being she had never seen in her life before. Rain mingled with the blood that seeped from his injured form was only worth a cursory glance compared to the mangled, feathered wings he gradually unfurled to their fullest reach. The vixen stepped through the broken door to stand beneath the overhang, her mouth open in a slight 'o' as she watched Rune reach his full height. She did not know what he was, but instincts told her to keep her distance. They warned her that this being was dangerous, even if he looked beaten and bloody.

Curious with the woman's slack-jawed appearance as she stared dumbly out at the rain-soaked, smoldering form, Dallas rose to his feet and made his way to the door as well. He joined her on the porch and his jaw dropped just as far as hers. He had no idea what he was looking at, but he knew it was not a youkai. Something about it rubbed him the wrong way, but not in the way the followers of the forest guardian's minions did. When Rune took a step toward them, both elf and fox took a tentative step back and watched as he pitched forward and fell to his knees. Neither wanted to approach him out of concern what might happen to them if they did. The fallen angel didn't have to worry about them wanting to make a meal of them unless he was a man-sized fried chicken in disguise. Yaritza was fairly particular about what she consumed and Dallas had no taste for humanoid things.

"W-what is it?"

"How should I know? Looks like a bird-man-thing."

"An...angel?"

"Don't be stupid. Angels aren't real." He'd never seen an angel before and he liked to think he had seen enough of the world and its creatures to have a good idea of what was real and what was not. Perhaps it was some kind of bird man or a mutant like the one in that movie from a few years back.

________________________________

[Ms Silver Lining]

ΞΞ`-,,-`*❤ Miwa The Sheep➥
Someone sing me a lullaby and take me away.


Morning breakfast was the best! Not just because breakfast was prepared by Bob. More so, because Miwa loved to eat. When one thought about it they slept for up to seven hours, more or less, which means she went without eating for around seven or so hours. Her stomach is always terribly empty come sunrise. Eating was generally the first thing on the sheep's mind, aside from her ghost shepherd whom she kept in the back of her mind. It bother her to a small extent that he wasn't around, but she seemed to be over it. With the way she sung so happily around food and even more when someone joined in with her. She giggled and playfully nudged Gesso with her hip continuing to sing with him. Her foxtail swirled in small circles and her brown curls bounced around her head. She was simply filled with so much joy and bliss that nothing could possibly seem wrong. She twirled around those who stood up to get food from the buffet. She enjoyed the short time she spent near Sera because the woman was so warm. It felt like walking past a vent cranking out the heat and feeling cold after passing. However, it didn't bother her and she continued to play and joke with Gesso until she noticed something. She looked as if she were looking at Sono, who had just picked up a mango and found his seat, but she was looking past him and his table towards the window.

It was then that she realized that it was raining outside and not just any rain. It was a thunderstorm. She knew one person well enough to know he would hate being awakened to this. She stopped dancing and the gloss in her eyes lost their shin, as they grew distant. Thunderstorms didn't bring her down, just brought her back to the time when she found Kiyoshi. It was raining like this so long ago and she was lost. Anyone could mistake him as a homeless male hunched over under a makeshift home, made of newspapers and cardboard boxes. Yet, she knew better and never had seen a Shepherd as down as Kiyoshi. In a sense, she pitied him. Her fox ears pressed against her head as she looked down at her plate. She had enough food to feed four, a plate in each hand, both full of small mountains of food. Her nose twitched a little and she lowered her head to take a deep breath. As she inhaled her ears raised again. She needed to eat before Kiyoshi found her. This way he wouldn't have to sit in a room full of people in such a bad mood.

Her lavender eyes looked up from her plate towards Vincent. He had already found a seat and a table for them. She smiled to herself and turning her head towards Bob. Of course she wanted to go and set with the chef. She enjoyed his company or keeping him company, whichever way anyone wished to look at it. She smiled towards him and head towards Vincent's table. The vampire was kind enough to allow her to sleep in his bed for the night. The least she could do was keep him company and show her gratitude. Even though Vincent's actions were to thank her for finding his pendent anyway. She made it to the table and sat her two plates down, smiling with delight towards Vincent. "Be right back," she hummed twisting back around to get herself something to drink. She skipped back to the buffet and picked up two glasses and poured herself a glass of water and orange juice. She was a little more careful walking back to the table and sat the glasses down before she took her seat next to Vincent.

She clapped her hands in front of her before she begun devouring her food bit by bit. First starting with her most favorite breakfast food, pancakes covered in butter and syrup. She didn't bother with cutting them into smaller bites. She simply picked up a flat jack with her fork and chomped onto the side, taking as big as a bite her small mouth would allow. Syrup rolled from the corners of her lips but before it could drip from her chin her tongue assaulted the sweet sticky syrup. Whatever she missed her finger quickly caught and pushed into her mouth. "Hmmm! Oishii!" She cheered, bouncing and wiggling in her seat. Food always made this little one happy and Bob's food always hit the spot. And in her times of hunger it could almost be as pleasing as an orgasm. She tapped her feet together like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz and continued her meal without another word. She didn't bother with trying to conversant and eat at the same time. Such a task would be nearly impossible with Miwa. It wasn't until she moved onto her second plate and slowed down enough to look up every few seconds. "So, Mr. Vincent..." she pushed a sausage link around in her syrup, "... Are vampires limited to blood? Is that coffee doing anything for you?" She blinked looking at his cup and up at him. The sheep didn't know a lot about vampires, one would think she should, considering how long she's lived. However, that wasn't the point. Since one should also consider her one-track mind and lacking skill of multitasking. Although, she was the best when it came to modeling.

___________________________________________________________________

❝A hidden connection is stronger than an obvious one.❞

[Ms Silver Lining]

₪₪`~ ~*✖ Kiyoshi The Shepherd➥
Who says it's not my job to protect her...


If Val had caught on fire at that moment he would probably walk over her ashes. There wasn't much to expect from Kiyoshi other then he would protect Miwa with his life. Woman just weren't his cup of tea and he never went out of his way to go after them. Which was the reason why he hadn't had a little playtime, in a very long time. He didn't care to impress anyone, as long as he got what he wanted there was nothing else to care about. If she had paid any attention to him the look of lust wasn't to far from his glare. After a night of rolling in the sheets and fighting for command one could find that he wasn't one for passionate kisses. Her voice of indifference left him feeling content. Mostly happy because she wasn't some clingy female who couldn't let go of a one-night stand. Of course Val still saw a side of him he hardly showed; her power dragged it out of him. After she asked him her question he splashed his face again; this time leaving his palms pressed against his face and rubbing the pale white makeup off. With his eyes still closed he reached out to his right to pick up the white washcloth and press it against his face. After he dried his face he picked up the soap and scrubbed it in the cloth under the water. "What's it to you, Succubus?" He growled, putting down the soap, and scrubbed his face with the soapy cloth. Unlike Miwa Kiyoshi was better informed when it came to demons and so forth. He could never mistake a succubus for a vampire. Vampires weren't so fixed on sexual intercourse as were succubus and not once did she bite him for a drink.

Only a demon like the succubus could pull him away from Miwa and keep him away until the next day. It made the most sense to him. Why else would she have been so willing to come to his room? Why else would she be so uncaring after have a filling meal? Why was she even curious as to what he could be? It wasn't like she honestly cared and it wasn't like he honestly cared. So, what was the point in answering? He just wasn't in the mood for silly games or her twisted voice. He could feel the anger flaring in his chest, or was it just the pain. He dropped the soapy rag in the water and splashed his face. His soft peachy skin was now clean of the dreadful makeup Miwa had a party adding to his face. He scratched his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath as he turned to face her, answering, "I'm a Shepherd if you must know. If you don't know anything about us it's simple. I gain greater power from my sheep and I only have one." He turned to the shower and leaned against the wall while reaching to turn on the warm water. "Forgive me," he sighed, raising his hand to test the cascading water. "Rainy days, thunderstorms don't exactly put me in a good mood." He paused to change the water a little and continued, "It was wrong for me to assume you are a succubus just because you look and act like one." He ran his tongue over his canines and stood up straight to give her saturated eyes another look.

"You're welcome to linger, ask as many questions as you like... I'll let you know when you're starting to bother me." He loosened the sheets from around his waist and took his time getting in the shower. "Leaving is always an option too." He didn't want her to think he was trying to keep her around, hold her up from any business she had planned for today. If she was a succubus he couldn't imagine why she would want to hang around him for any longer; unless of course she wanted another round. One, she wouldn't get so easily.

___________________________________________________________________

❝A hidden connection is stronger than an obvious one.❞

[Vincent W Sinnet]

The rain that didn't seem to bother Aman at first grew into heavy pelting against the window and sounds of thunder echoing through the sky. It was enough to finally rouse Aman from his slumber, his bright blue orbs gradually revealed themselves as he slowly opened his eyes.
Already Aman was feeling better since yesterday, he found himself able to sit up without nearly as much strain as yesterday. He only struggle a little bit in rising from his comfortable spot in the bed, but he looked around the beautiful room and took it all in, remembering yesterday. He remembered waking up in Janet's arms, remembering how warm it was there and then, he remembered how nice she was and he remembered Cerano. Cerano who seemed like a very important looking person saying he would make new clothes for Aman. This caused Aman to look down at the thin patchwork robe he wore, he still couldn't remember where it came from. But that wasn't weird since Aman was having trouble remembering a whole lot of stuff. He could remember he was sick, he had a brother, he wasn't very well off... that was it. Aman couldn't even conjure up images of the past, it was simply information, facts in his head.

Aman was a little troubled by it and might have been consumed by this trouble remembering the past if he didn't have so much to think about concerning the future. Aman remembered Janet saying that he needed new clothes but... Aman didn't know if he could wait, even last night Cerano was talking about if Aman knew anything about the Inn, he was probably going to show him around. At least that's the conclusion Aman was led to anyway. Aman was sure it would be okay if he looked around a little bit. It was all he could think of to do anyhow, he was somewhat limited in the realm of activities. Aman crawled out of bed, easily finding his footing as he hit the ground, much more easily than yesterday. Aman looked all around the room he was in first off, there was a neat desk, and there was something Janet pointed out earlier which was a big black box with a glass front. It had little black nubbins sticking out under the glass part. Aman had no idea what it was but it looked funny.

Aman found another room inside his room, this room had what looked like a lot of pretty porcelain and white squares on the ground, it was very white and pretty. But Aman was baffled for what it's uses could have been aside from the bath which was all he could assume it was, the spout that came out from the top Aman couldn't fathom was used for filling the bath with water. Aman assumed somebody had to come and fill it with buckets of water or something. Aman tried not to think about any of it too hard and left the room as quickly as he could manage. Aman finished up looking around his own room and stood in front of the door that lead out of his little safe haven. Aman was a little nervous, biting his lip as his hand reached for the knob. He had already decided he would leave the room, so he closed his eyes and opened the door, stepping out as he did so. Then he turned around and shut the door, his eyes still closed even after the door was.

His shallow breathing grew a little louder, the whole action of stepping out and shutting the door behind him done quicker than he probably should have. He opened his eyes and looked at the door he had shut. It had the number 2 on it, Aman made sure to remember that. Aman looked down the hallway, he saw a scary looking kitty further down the hall who had stormed out of one of the rooms. There was obvious fear on Aman's face and he quickly turned to face the other direction. He could see the stairs weren't far off from where he was so he started walking towards them. Aman shuffled along, his long patchwork robe dragging along behind him, he had to be careful otherwise he would trip over his own robe. Aman slowed his already dreadfully slow pace down to crawl as he carefully climbed down each and every step. Eventually Aman found the stairs emptying out into the main lobby.

Aman looked around, he could see Miss Janet down here! He smiled in her direction but she was obviously busy with two girls on the couch. One of them looked soaked and the other was... Aman's face turned as red as the woman's hair as he desperately looked away from that part of the room. But there was so much going on here, and Miss Janet was busy. Aman wondered if it was a mistake leaving his room, he eventually found himself stuck fast to the furthest corner of the room. Simply sitting there anticipating what might happen. He was dreadfully nervous, what if Miss Janet was mad that he left the room, or what if the Red headed woman caught him looking at her. Oh dear, this was becoming a little too much for poor little Aman. He caught a glimpse of the guy behind the counter, he seemed friendly enough, but Aman was far too nervous to consider talking to even him.

[Yoshkun]

The Fallen Angel
天使

“Destruction cometh; and they shall seek peace, and there shall be none.”

“To my surprise, I could feel apprehension swallow into the back of their collective throats as I stepped closer….causing them to back further. Well, at least that confirmed my suspicions that these creatures weren't the minions of hell I had wrongfully mistaken them to be. It was becoming very apparent that neither planned on venturing any further, so against my body’s better judgment, my keen curiosity drove me to try and greet them once more.”

Drops thicker than the drizzle falling around them dribbled casually from the edge of the angel’s lips like sticky crimson honey, a tired sleeve reaching up to wipe it clean while the other palm pressed flat against the gravel to steady himself as the crooked mass of black feathers and bone straightened with one final stretch before recoiling to lay flat against the heavily torn coat. He stayed in a crouched position for what seemed like several seconds, his eyelids drooping shut as the loud echo of honking horns and early morning arguments began to lessen and lessen until only the sweet hum of splashing water and thumping heartbeats lulled him into a brief moment of solace. A strained sigh fell through flaring nostrils soon after, his wobbly thigh muscles hardening quickly to accommodate the immense pressure put on them as he pushed off the asphalt and shakily lifted his upper torso to the point that he could stand somewhat upright; wings and all. His illuminated gaze would have risen immediately to look upon the pair of travelers left agape if not for a single unbroken windowpane glimmering through bleak light that captured his attention completely. Though he hadn’t made use of the tender vocal cord still lodged in the back of his throat, he highly doubted he would have been able to call upon it then with the lump that swelled up when he gazed upon the haunting reflection staring back at him. Despite all of the pain clawing at his nerves just from willing the urge to stand, he raised a weak arm to wave at the clearly fabricated representation...and felt his eyes widen when the doppelganger waved back with an identical amount of tension in its arm as well. This was no spell...it was really him. The once milky white locks that playfully fell against his forehead were very scarce amongst a sea of black, the eyes of a clear blue sky lost to stormy green orbs that narrowed with an unforeseen anger he was unfamiliar with. His clothes were also no better than garb a diseased ill-mannered youkai would throw upon their shoulders, his once flowing jacket sewn by the finest seamstress in the Milky Way was now charred beyond anything recognizable. The frantic sensation of overwhelming shock had yet to sink into his numbed senses, allowing him to retract his arm from the window and let it hang back at his side.

“I know this is terribly shallow of me, but I considered falling back into the ground right then and there from the sheer humiliation I felt. I had never been one to flaunt my appearance as many of the elite guards tended to do, but to look as dark and forlorn as I did made me realize I was truly cast into murky lands unknown to most angels. For better or worse, I now blended somewhat amongst the crowds. Women of this era go for the dark and edgy types, right?...Right? I didn’t have long to focus on my selfish woes, for the creatures began to chatter amongst themselves now. What? What did he just say?”

“Aren’t real??!” He spat as his throat tingled with its first vibrations of life, his voice surprisingly booming thanks to his inner workings still fine tuning the adjustments needed between a suitable tone on Earth and one needed to reach across the heavens into the vastness of space. Rune didn’t carry the air of superiority and arrogance that most of his kind was known for, but the elf’s comment caused some sort of unfamiliar pride to boil hotly to the surface. His idle gaze lifted and turned to stare directly through Dallas, his slumped posture now returning to full height as he straightened himself to take in the man responsible for such blasphemous words. His menacing glare quickly shifted into a general expression of surprise at what he saw, staring dumbfounded at Dallas then to Yaritza and then back to Dallas. You see, Rune’s once intense eyesight had been slightly damaged in the fall and he could only see the unlikely duo for what they actually were; thus making him unaware they were wearing an illusion. The man on the right was a tall blond with very moderate fabrics. He was certainly clever in how he dressed, as he wouldn’t really be too suspicious to anyone besides various women and Matagot’s admiring his good looks, but without that magical veil, his pointy ears stuck out like a sore thumb. His female companion, however, had the opposite problem. Her clothing, her piece, was sure to attract the eyes of any creature that walked past with its revealing yet exotic nature. She had a far darker complexion than the elf, curvy by nature and soggy wet to the point that it kept her equally whimsical blond hair from falling too far from her face. She was wetter than he was, and he had been washed in it for at least twenty minutes directly. Things weren’t adding up in his head...how could she be so thoroughly soaked when her lover was so dry? He probably would have pondered it longer if his eyes weren't chasing every flicker of those dripping ears and swaying tails; clearly this woman had to be a fox spirit of some kind! For the first time since he had descended upon New City, a gentle smile parted his blood soaked lips while chuckling lightly under his shallow breath. He was still a few steps away from them, but anyone with eyes could clearly see the utterly bizarre pairing of these two.

“Imagine my surprise to discover runaway lovers when I had first suspected them to be demons. You’d be surprised how many times you see various creatures find true love in other species only to run off together. I found it quite touching myself, but I must have looked quite foolish just standing there with a cheerful grin on my face. In actuality, I was trying to place their names in my mind. I know that I have seen those faces before…perhaps South America? It seemed odd even for escapees to be this far away from their designated homes…but it was none of my business what they did on their honeymoon. I felt truly awful for ruining it, but my mind went elsewhere when I remembered who these two were.”

“Ah!” He exclaimed happily, his smile extending into a grin as he raised a clean palm to wipe away some of the blood clouding relatively unharmed facial features. Rune was naturally soft-spoken, but being a ‘demi-god’ of sorts at one time made his voice carry no matter how low he whispered.”You're….Caelik Dainslef!” He raised an arm to point to Dallas before lowering it to the left and letting a single accusing index finger waggle right at the fox.”…And you…Heiko Yaritza Almeida Senna Cavaco de Ataide!”Although the angel’s dialect was far from anything latin, Yaritza’s terribly long name rolled off his tongue flawlessly. He was very proud of all the names he could remember, although he had never been assigned to watch either of them specifically; but that didn’t mean he couldn’t occasionally peek at another angel’s work station.”Ah, forgive me. I am being terribly impolite. I don’t really have a name to offer but you may call me Rune if you wish. I am no enemy of yours nor do I wish to threaten you. I was only hoping to land in New City...but I can't remember if I landed in the right place. Oh, and your fox lover is quite correct. I am indeed, an angel.” He couldn’t help but add that last bit in, pleased that Yaritza possibly believed in angels; unlike Dallas. It was hard to find someone so brutally injured yet so elated as Rune was, tilting his head and laughing softly to himself despite that he was sure to have freshly cracked ribs and oozing blood dripping off every limb and each feather. As a crafty Dallas might notice, when Rune brought his hand to his mouth to try and politely contain his amusement, each finger still contained a solid gold ring that had been untouched by the fallen angel’s “accident”.

“Every bone in my body ached, I was losing a lot of blood to the city streets, and yet I just couldn’t help but be charmed by the doubtful stares of my new friends. The elf was well guarded to be sure...but I found the girl to be very amusing. I wanted to wave my arms and say something from one of those cheesy human movies like “I am your destiny!!” but with the look she was currently giving me, I was afraid she would drop like a spooked horse. Oh well. I think a proper rest is in order once I figure out where I needed to go. I hope so, anyway.”

[Vincent W Sinnet]

♪It's a lovely day

And the sun is shinin'~♪

The rain was nothing to D, even as it began to soak his clothing and his hair. The now slightly more treacherous sidewalks didn't seem to affects D's ability to glide along effortlessly. Those who walked hurriedly through the rain which seemed to pour harder with each passing moment, the darkness of the day seeping through their clothes and into their soul faster than the rain, couldn't help but feel like they were hit with a ray of pure sunshine the second D passed them. Though he casually glided by, sipping on his milkshake, it was nothing but good vibes no matter what the weather was like. To D it might as well just been another sunny day.

D was certainly was a sight on this dark and gradually turning stormy day. The white of his suit fairly out of place and the yellow tint to his sunglasses making his eyes seem like glowing suns. No matter where he went though, no matter who managed to see him, no matter how he looked there were very few who weren't happy to see him. People D had seen on a regular basis waved at D, their faces lighting up and D could only wave back. D had finished his burger a fair while ago and tossed the greasy wrapper away in one of the trash cans he passed. So now all he had was the milkshake in hand which he enjoyed with short sips. D began considering going home, or, what he considered to be home, which probably couldn't be considered home to many others. Really it was just a room, a small room in the basement of an abandoned apartment complex. Anything topside of it was unlivable in, so D made his home in the small room in the underground. It was a real dump by any standards.

Concrete floor, walls and ceiling. There was no electrical fixtures save the one light bulb in the center of the room. Not that it mattered anyways since no electricity reached this condemned building. But D didn't need any, him and the equipment he carried to keep himself running at pique performance had their own power supply. It wasn't like D could just go and get a real apartment, D made some money as a DJ at a couple of clubs a few times a week, but there was so much that went into getting an apartment. D wasn't even legally a citizen, sure he was made here, but that was besides the point. D let out a sigh, he could see flashes of lightning and hear the thunder past his music. So he did the only thing he could do and turned the music up. But even still he couldn't go rolling around in this storm all day. He would give it a few more minutes before going back to his little hole in the ground.

As D combed through the streets as the rain poured down he continued his routine of spreading good vibes wherever he and his music reached. It was a good feeling for D, to see and feel the ultimate change in attitude when he passed someone or said hey to whoever. So it came as a big shock as he glided by an alleyway and felt a tremendous amount of stress pour out of it like a tidal wave. Stress that stemmed from a tremendous amount of physical pain, or so D calculated. It came out at him in such a way that it nearly bowled him over, D kept himself stable though and skidded to a halt. He could feel other emotions mixing in from a couple of other sources. The initial one lightened up a bit though, pleasant emotions mixing in and sedating a bit of those bad vibes brought out through pain. But D could feel it all so well that it hurt him nearly as much.

D's hand took hold of the corner of the wall that turned into the alleyway. He was more worried about who might be down that alleyway, but he found himself a little nervous. From what he had read, bad things happened to those that went down dark alleyways. Maybe this hurt person was someone who had got mugged or something? But then, where was this positive emotion coming from? Geez, this was all getting D a bit confused. D poked his head around the corner before rolling out in front of the alleyway. "Yo~?" He called down the alley way, he managed to see three figures, but as the rain dripped down on his shades he couldn't make out much. D lifted them up, revealing his glowing prismatic eyes that swirled with ever changing color so he could try and see better through the rain. "Is everything cool down there? Anybody need help or somethin'?" D said aloud, hoping that nothing would crawl out of the alley and eat him or anything.

D needed to read fewer books.

♪Everywhere I go

I see children smilin'~♪

D's Now Playing: Blaze - Lovelee Dae

[The_Butterfly_Effect]

The storm was worsening and Isidora was starting to wonder if taking to these stormy skies was such a good idea, she had slowed her speed down, the wind whipping her long lavender hair into a frenzy and the rain pelting upon her bare flesh like needles. Hardly having made much progress in attempting to find others like herself, Isidora slowed her staff down until she was hovering in the air, several hundred metres above a part of the city, she wasn’t really sure which part, everything looked the same to her, and it was all so big! Releasing her tightly gripped hands from the staff, her balance perfect as usual, Isidora decided that perhaps it was time for another quick spell, maybe something to keep the rain and wind from bothering her during flight. Bare feet swinging casually in the air, her hands making various gestures and signs as she muttered to herself, trying to settle on the right wording that she should use; Isidora may be skilled in the art of magic, but it was still difficult twisting spells.

As she finally settled on the correct words, her minds awareness instinctively reaching out to tap into one of the city’s ley line, filling her body with the tingling heady rush of magic, it was around this time that she spotted something in the distance. Considering that she was occupying the skies, and that she had yet to meet anyone else up here in such harsh conditions, it was this sole movement that her eyes locked onto which caught her by surprise. Isidora felt her mouth drop open in shock, her eyes blinking furiously to try and clear the rain from her blurred vision, the incantation now frozen on her parted lips. What on great Olympus- or rather Earth, she should now say, was that thing? Some creature, man or bird, she could not determine, was falling through the skies at a rapid speed, aiming directly to the hard ground. Isidora heard a sound, a high keening noise that she realised was coming from her; was she actually screaming? Instead of shouting out a spell, instead of launching herself forward on her staff, instead of trying to save this unknown creature in any way, she simply stayed where she was and screamed. Certainly she scolded herself thoroughly once the creature was out of sight, having crashed onto the earth. But then, she had to remember that this world was not hers and that things were different here than from what she knew. Perhaps that creature was harmful? But she would never have known unless she had ventured forth, but her body had not allowed the risk.

Biting her tongue, she regained her lost control of the ley line, allowing the flow of magic to rush through her veins, warming her chilled limbs with its tingling heat,
“Contego contineo-” but before she could speak the rest of the spell, the words that would define what she was shielding herself against, there was a bright flash in the sky from a bolt of lightening, followed closely by a thunderclap which caught Isidora off guard and caused her to lose control of the magic held poised for the spell. There was a flash of violet as a shield formed a sphere shape, completely surrounding Isidora and cutting her off from the storm raging rain and, unfortunately, the wind too, which was what her staff was using for flight. Before she could reign in control and mend the half completed spell, her staff began to plummet towards the ground. There wasn’t much going on inside her mind besides panicking, but luckily one of her hands batted out and broke the shield surrounding her body, which she had been falling in. Once the shield was gone, she felt the rush of rain on her skin and the roar of the wind in her ears. Thinking quickly, having only a few hundred metres to go before impact, the ground rushing up to meet her, Isidora grabbed her staff with one hand and shouted over the rain and wind,
“Desino!” Her staff abruptly jerked to a stop, “Ventus volatilis.” The smooth amethyst stone of her staff glowed brightly as the flight spell took effect and she dangled gently in the air, between a few tall skyscrapers, pulling herself up until she was sitting back on the staff and heaving a sigh of relief as the wind curled around her staff end, keeping her afloat. “Yes, well… I think that’s quite enough of that.” She huffed to herself and began to gently descend to the ground, which wasn’t that far away now, her bare feet stepping lightly on the sidewalk, startling quite a few passer-by’s.
Isidora shook her head, looking even more bedraggled than before as the rain continued its relentless downpour; and her with barely any warm clothing. Her home island was like that of the Amazon, with such tropical temperatures, she’d never experienced cold weather like this, but luckily the magic flowing through her body kept her somewhat warm. But it would not stop any colds or other illnesses from affecting her. Isidora knew she needed to find proper shelter if she was to survive this strange new world.
“I wonder where that creature fell…” She mused aloud, staring off into the distance; perhaps other like it would gather there, in which case, the most sensible thing would be to avoid that area, as she knew nothing about them. But it was because she knew nothing about it, that she began walking in that direction, hoping that she would meet others like herself, attracted to peculiar sight; well, maybe not peculiar to them, but it certainly was to Isidora. Man or bird, what was it?
Of course, she was paying no attention to her surroundings, which was rather foolish, considering all that she had mistakenly done so far. But then, Isidora didn’t know of the CLOAK organisation or the prejudice against others like herself, she simply assumed that the cries of alarm and frightened looks on people’s faces were for other reasons. These humans were clearly not used to magic, Isidora did try to explain that she meant them no harm, but it seemed no one wanted to listen. Shame really. She thought, continuing on down the street.

[Lightlender]

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

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

"Death. After a couple spins around the mortal coil, the concept tends to lose its meaning. You begin to question it, man. You really start to place concepts and ideals upon something that should be as menial and uncomplicated as an ending to something which was either great or horrible. That's all it really is—an ending, pure and simple. Everything needs to have one…'cept I haven't seemed to find mine yet. Kinda makes you wonder…exactly what I'm doin' wrong…"

Heaven wandered the halls for a few minutes; alas, lost for a better sense of the word. There were too many auras and walking the inn's halls was like toying over a broken kaleidoscope. If the colors shifted out of order and sequence, then it was no longer an object of beauty and spectacle; it was nauseating. He compensated his misplaced vertigo by bracing himself against the wall as he ambled through, his mind concentrating on the crumpling fulcrum of personal balance. The floors were made of gelatin, as were the walls, jiggling and oscillating in maddening abstract tribal dances that left Heaven blinking in abject frustration. When walking, the ballast would sway either right or left, leading Heaven along the shallow road to perdition with quavering, crooked steps. His stomach quickened, tightening enough to wretch if dry-heaving produced anything beyond stale mucus. He hadn't eaten solid food in years—never had the need to. His body was a dead shell, a satirical forgery of all that was once true and honest in this world, living on all the borrowed time his selfish indulgence to steal beneath the silent throes of nightfall. Pain filled his bones, racking every nerve with the blistering bite of numbing cold before it was all inflamed by a toxic venomous sting that made the synapses brittle, too feeble to carry any response save for the spark of linger fatigue that was profound and everlasting.

"Ever heard of the term, 'stand-still'? It's often used to describe those afflicted with a medical condition where they're compelled to relive their memories through the present, unable to ever move forward with their lives. But you know…it's real. Back then, I wanted everything. To get the girl, to beat the 'bad guys', and live triumphantly in the 'ever-after'. When I found out how much bullshit my dreams were, I found that I could no longer take that next step forward. There was no longer a golden-bricked road in front of me. Someone had come along and pried up all the 24-karat bricks. Not only that, but they'd stolen and made off with my jacket and shoes, forcing me to put my bare feet against the icy ground. They'd killed all my companions who once walked with me, leaving me to walk this frozen path, cold and alone. They'd robbed me of my inspiration, my muse, and crushed all the aspirations which had lead me to travel this journey in the first place. It wasn't until all was said and done that I realized 'they' were nothing more than my own daring hubris, my greed given form and shape through my selfish actions. I'd robbed myself of everything…"

The nekomata swayed out of step, feeling the strength bleed out of his legs as though tendons were severed deep. He fell, but not before grasping for the nearby wall. The floor provided an end to the dizzying nausea, if nothing else—rooted to an inflexible state where he could gather all the marbles he must have spilled on the way down. "…this is pathetic. I'm better than this." he growled, struggling to hoist himself from the paralyzing daggers that sought to pinion him to the floor. He used the wall, guiding himself back up from the depths of nothingness before obscurity could snatch him back down into a few more minutes of self loathing. But as he rose up, something slipped from the front pocket of his hooded sweater, smacking dully upon the floor before a quick swipe of his hand could grasp it. For a minute, he simply stood there, glaring down at the small black book with a somewhat ornate golden cross emblazoned across the front. The Holy Bible.


"Religion. You might think it's funny for a demon to carry such a thing, but I don't. When you fall so far from grace for something you've fought your entire life to protect, you at least need something to believe in. In my case, I became a Christian. Now, you might say that I don't act much like one—and I don't. But my reason for accepting a religion is probably a little different from what you'd expect. I want to believe in a 'God', so that when I meet Him, I can personally 'thank' him for the shitty life I've had to endure."

As if summoned from the back of his huge hood, where she slept, a small white kitten carefully pawed her way to the top of his head, balanced her meager weight between his two large cat-ears, and stretched her legs with a feline yawn. Heaven, for the first time since his entrance, actually smiled up at the small blue-eyed ball of fur. He reached up to stroke her and slowly bent down to recover his bible. "Mornin' Flicker. Did I wake you up? Yeah, well tough…get over it, kid." The kitten purred in response, as if laughing off his rude remark without much concern. She traveled down to his shoulder and perched there, mewling quietly for him to find her breakfast in exchange for her lost slumber. "Is that all you think about, kid? Food? The world's about a lot more than snacktime." Flicker meowed again, more forcefully this time. She was hungry, damn it! Heaven sighed and steadied himself, wondering if he could make it down the stairs in his shaky condition. "Flicker, fine! I'll go find you some damn food, already…just shut the hell up."
However, Flicker was an impatient sort. She bounded from his shoulder to the floor in a dead sprint, rounding the corner and descending the steps like a small white bolt of lightning after a nitrous-oxide boost. Before Heaven could drag himself to the railing, the little kitten was already on the scent of something delicious. She cut through the lobby quickly, sprinted for the kitchen, and was soon airborne in a flash—in the blink of an eye, she's swiped Sono's mango clean out of his grasp and skidded around on a counter-top to face him with a feral look and a low growl. His mango just got ganked by all two pounds of the pint-sized terrorist from hell.




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

[Ms Silver Lining]

金金`^ ^`*$ Janet P. Digger ➥
Everything I do, I do out of love... and money.


Janet did linger in the lobby a little longer, but not for very long. She only remained for just enough time to look around at the collection of new guest. Strays were coming in from left and right and there was only one of her and few to help. She secretly wished she could help Mizu a little better. However, she believed the imp to be strong enough to up hold the fort on his own. Seeing Namir give her a confident nod and escort Heaven out of the lobby made the skunk feel more at ease to leave the lobby too. If the old demon would be around to do anymore damage she would be there to see it. She walked over to and up the stairs, clearly missing Aman, and reaching her room before Heaven stormed out of the tiger’s room. Her room, room four; the first single bedroom on this floor, wasn't very spectacular.

Along the sky blue walls were assorted paintings of flowers that somehow balanced the room with a hint of interest, yet insignificance at the same time. There were no pictures of her pass life, or her self for that matter. To the left was her desk, which was unbelievably clean of extra papers and folders. There were a few books with bookmarks still at the front of their pages. She's hardly had the time to seat down and read them. Pens, note pads, and many other desk accessories were all neatly organized and untouched. Her cream colored pillows were all fluffed and placed at the head of her bed adjacent to the desk. It was clear that the maids had already came to her room and put back together the hardly touched bed. Along the opposite side of the bed was a wall mirror that made the space appear larger then it really was. Off to the right corner were large, creamed corner couches with a small round footrest. The entrainment set sat next to them where the television sat on a rotating desk. If she wanted to watch TV in bed all she had to do was push it against her glass wall. However, she hardly watched the flat screen and it was mostly left extended towards the small sitting area as it was now. Across from the front door were two other doors. One opened the gate to her bathroom while the other opened another to her walk-in-closet. Long white sheer drapes rest over creamy light brown curtains, reaching the floor in a lazy smooth fashion.

The skunk closed the door after Nyu walked inside and walked across the room. "Wait a second hun while I get you a towel." She pushed the door open to her bathroom causing the sweet lingering scents of last night shower to escape into her bedroom. She returned with a golden brown towel, so soft that it might, or should have been mistaken for fabric used as a warm bathrobe. "Use this to dry off," she turned around and walked over to her closet, pushing the door open and walking in side. "Now, I think my hips are a little wider then yours but I know I have some yoga pants in here. None of my tops are tight fitting, I like to be able to breath." She chuckled. "Plus tight tops ruffles my fur." She didn't say anything else while she pulled the items from their hangers. "I'm only letting you use one outfit if you need any more I'm going to have to start charging you to rent them. You’ll have to go out in town to buy you some new outfits, more to your liking. Yet," She walked out of the closet with her black yoga pants folded with an orange long sleeve top sitting on top of it. She sat the clothes down on the footrest and walked across the room to her dresser. She pulled open the top drawer and began shuffling through her underwear for a bra.

"Oh, what was I saying," she mumbled pulling out a bra she didn't mind departing with. "Oh, that's it. You can have these." She walked back over to set the bra a top the folded clothes, pressing them together, and lifting them to hand to her. "You're out of luck with underwear Miss. Udo but the bra looks like it'll fit. I wouldn't leave you with your goods hanging out for Mr. Heaven to stare at." She laughed a little. "You can use my bathroom, take a hot shower and help yourself with any smells you like. I'll wait out here so if you need anything just call me." She smiled and took a seat at the end of her bed. Her tail curled around to her front where she could carefully stroke it. Her tail was in some real pain... all because Heaven yanked her up a bit too fast and too hard. No matter, no look of pain or discomfort showed on her face.

___________________________________________________________________

❝What's the importance of a memory anyway?❞