titz samples

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[The Titza]

DO NOT STEAL.
DO NOT POST.
OR I WILL REPORT YO' a**. >8C
EDIT !
Changed my Gaia settings so all my post formats may look a bit funky.

[The Titza]

IN-THREAD POST - 1357 words

0000 CONFIGURE & NEGLECT 0000CALL THIS A TRUCE 0000 FACING NO REGRETS
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THEY HAD LIGHTS INSIDE THEIR EYES THEY HAD LIGHTS INSIDE THEIR EYES THEY HAD LIGHTS INSIDE THEIR EYES
THEY HAD LIGHTS INSIDE THEIR EYES THEY HAD LIGHTS INSIDE THEIR EYES THEY HAD LIGHTS INSIDE THEIR EYES
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮✹DE.TORIATE ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮ ☓☓ IN BOUND▁▁✰ ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮ ⊰

████ █ █ ↺↺ WH`AT›Y↻U PUT╰ME⇨THR⇡OUGH ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇
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I`M 00000 RIDING 00000 ON 00000 THE 00000 PEAK 00000 OF 00000 DISASTER 00000 WITH 00000 AN 00000 INSTRUMENT 00000 TO 00000 GUIDE 00000 ME
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tab Reina's greatly-appreciated addition to the 'creepy stalker status aura' caused the whole, small area to radiate with the unnerving force. Pretty soon, those that were sitting at the tables nearest to their location were slowly inching away, not about ready to discover what exactly the bushes were so intent on. Ruby eyes twinkled eerily among the dark cover of the leaves, a tiny giggle threatening to escape as the cyborg lifted an arm. Oh, what's this? Was he going to perform another spectacular trick? A green orb formed at the end of the male's cannon-turned armed, causing Grimur's breath to catch in his throat. Ah, how very pretty! He had certainly never seen anyone do that before! Was it possible that this interesting and tall fellow knew other such phenomenal--

CRRASH...

tab A small sound of surprise was elicited as right beside him, a young tree abruptly split in half. Branches and greenery fell daintily upon his head as the boy gaped at the sight, unsure if he should be feeling downright mortified and frightened out of his wits, or awed. Blinking owlishly, he slowly turned, directing his attention back to the approaching cyborg. His arm was still poised and ready for another shot, the glow undoubtedly aimed right at the spot where he and Reina sat. Oh, my. That was not a good sign. If he had learned anything from the poor sapling's plight, it was that having a quite-possibly-very-lethal-and-able-to-blast-his-entire-body-off-the-city's-stratosphere weapon pointed at you meant that he should reveal himself...and fast. 'But he's so cool and-- No, Grim! Stop it! --but what if he still shoots us-- impossible! He ordered us to get out, right? --then that means he'll kill us faster!-- he can't do that, since it's against school regulations and, hey are we arguing with ourselves? --yes.' Shaking his head free of the distracting voices, he glanced toward the girl beside him, noticing that she had the same, blank expression on as he did. Well, at least he wasn't the only one at a complete loss at what to do.

Stay in the bushes, and get blasted.

Get out of the bushes, and get blasted.

Decisions, decisions...

tab The idol-like cyborg had now directed his Godly green beam of doom at another student, Grimur watching with curious anticipation as the male curled up into a ball and started sobbing. Hm. Was that the weapon's side effect or was he just really, really scared? Seeing as how he had not done the same yet, he was guessing that the prospect of being burned to a crisp was much more terrifying than he imagined. To be fried on the spot... Crispy Grim? Wait, that sounded gross...bah! Whatever! ...though he had to say, the cyborg had a very enchanting voice. To add to his long list of 'never seen/heard THIS before,' it occurred to him that the male's vocals were littered with smooth yet sporadic pitches, much like those of an actual robot's. He never knew the academy allowed machines into the dorms! The last time he heard, the teachers would always confiscate any technological devices if ever used during class time. Did that mean that this cyborg would be confiscated, too? His thoughts were promptly cut off when the sound of footsteps reached his ears. Grimur peeked through the covers of the bush and saw another dark-haired female standing beside the weapon-bearing student. ...he liked her clothes.

Wait, did she just call his hero a 'rusty car?' Oh Hell no, gurlfraaan. The brunette's cheeks instantly inflated. How dare she!

Then she had the audacity to throw cards at them.

tab "Owie!" he yelped as one of them made direct contact with his forehead, the resounding 'SLAP' sounding ridiculously loud to his ears. The brunette emitted a soft whine as he felt the - probably red - spot where the card had made impact. Not only was she rude, but she was also mean! And to make matters better (more like worse, snort), it appeared that she was also intent on destroying them if they did not emerge from the bushes. Oh, joyous of days. However, before he could get the chance to think of another plan, Reina finally spoke up beside him. He jerked his eyes in her direction as she proudly announced that they were both perfectly normal and humble bushes, causing a wide grin to bloom across his lips. "Brilliant, Reina! Brilliant!" he whispered to her, flashing her a brief thumbs-up before clearing his throat. "Indeed! Please do not fear our bush-like ways, for it is we whom offer homage to the many insects and animals whom dwell within our leafy bosoms!" he cried dramatically, thoroughly rustling his hiding spot. Then, after a pause, he added in, "If you p***k us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not AVENGE!?" Now, did all those hours spent cramming William Shakespeare's poems and stories into his brain really help with the current situation he was in? Not exactly, because one: bushes don't bleed; two: bushes most certainly are not ticklish (but Grim certainly is. Be one with the bush!); and three: he was pretty darn sure that bushes held no interest in exacting revenge on humans whom have poisoned them, for not only was it psychologically and anatomically impossible, but it was also not nice.

That...was when he felt something crawling up his hand.

'Oh, Reina. ~ I never knew you were that type of-- whoa, WHOA, WHOA.'

tab More so from the initial shock than fear, Grimur shot up from the cover of the bushes when he caught sight of the large, hairy spider on his wrist. He drawled out a long, 'Eeeeee-' as he rapidly shook his arm, not stopping even after the creature was flung off until about thirty seconds later. "Is it gone? Is it off? Is Grim safe from the scary spider?" he tentatively cracked open one eye, lightly turning his hand before opening both lids. Good, good...it wasn't there anymore.

tab Releasing a soft sigh of relief, he turned to his side with a smile, though it immediately disappeared once he saw that he was smack-dab right in front of the scary cyborg and lolita girl. For a second, he would stand there wordlessly, eyes wide and mouth slightly open as his brain attempted to process the scene that had just played out. Riiiight, he had jumped out of the bushes because of the spider, and now it was quite obvious that he was not a bush..huh. Well, that escalated quickly. "Uhh..." he began hesitantly, nervously wringing the hem of his turtleneck. "I...am...GRIM! THE BUSH SPIRIT!" both of his arms shot up before he 'mysteriously' wiggled his fingers, expelling quiet bouts of 'oooooh' under his breath, though realized soon that it wasn't working. His arms fell limply at his side as his expression dropped, the profound sense of 'WELL WHAT NOW, GENIUS?' hovering above his head like an unwanted, invisible cloud.

Yeah, screw this.

tab "Okay, I lied," he admitted dejectedly, bowing his head. "Grim is not a bush, or a bush spirit...but he thinks you're really cool!" and just like that, he perked right back up, eyes twinkling with admiration as he stared straight-on at the green glow pointed at his face. "You are amazing! I have never seen anyone with such power! Such grace!" he clasped his hands together, beaming brilliantly. "Grim was at a loss of words! And your feet, your feet!" he nodded at them briefly before returning his gaze to the cyborg. "They are like the hooves of fawns! Very elegant - I have never seen those before, either." Then, for the finishing touch, he glanced at the girl standing next to the tall male and pointed at her clothes. "And I love your fashion sense!" He ended his ramble with a short laugh before tilting his head at both of them expectantly, completely oblivious to the pitying looks onlookers were sending him.

'Yup. He's dead.'

( ♕❜⋮━━━━━ ███ ███ ███ ━━━━━ ↻ I`VE GOT✧ MY DE⇣MONS
SPACE SPACE SPACE ⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯ ⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯ ⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯ ⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯
IT`S HARD TO KNOW THEY'RE OUT THERE 0 IT`S HARD TO KNOW THAT YOU STILL CARE 0 I COULD SAY IT BUT YOU WON`T BELIEVE ME 0 YOU SAY YOU DO BUT YOU DON`T DECEIVE ME
IT`S HARD TO KNOW THEY'RE OUT THERE 0 IT`S HARD TO KNOW THAT YOU STILL CARE 0 I COULD SAY IT BUT YOU WON`T BELIEVE ME 0 YOU SAY YOU DO BUT YOU DON`T DECEIVE ME
00000▌▌▌▌ ▌▌▌▌ ▌▌▌▌❝ ▌▌▌▌ ▌▌▌▌ ⊱*LIES , LI♢ES」
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000 ◜I`M.TIRED↳OF↘↘ THESE ⇡⇡ R!DD◝LES 0♔0 where is your »»god?
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SPACE SPACE DEAD 000000 HEARTS 000000 ARE 000000 EVERYWHERE 000000 DEAD 000000 HEARTS 000000 ARE 000000 EVERYWHERE
╔════════ ═══════════════ ═══════════════ ═══════════════
space lol ♔▐▐ ░░LOCATION⋮By some bushes 0000 ♔▐▐ ░░COMPANY⋮Reina, Zenith, & Ryker 0000 ♔▐▐ ░░MOOD⋮Eager 0000 ♔▐▐ ░░ACTION⋮possibly getting himself minced and later booted off the atmosphere, but who cares?

[The Titza]

IN-THREAD POST - 1828 words

00 ┖ i`m ┒》》0 ＣＯＬＤ. 00______00 ︾ so, very, c o l d . . .
0000000000000000000000 MY 彡LIGHT HAS DIMMED → IT DIMMED. ✦IT DIMMED!! 0 ☂ 0 ( ﾟi keep searching⇢ f - for SOMEthing00 i could ☈never seem ✖ to find ➟
FUUUURRRRKEVERYTHING❛i`m cold as cold as cold⊱ ┆ could be. ｂｅ. --▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ ❜

〝I - I WANNA SWIM`AWAY ╰☆ but d✺n`t. kn✹w. h✺w.
spacespacelol ♛ ↺█ SOMETIMES I FEEL LIKE I'M ｛ ALREADY ｝ IN THE OCEAN.ノ
SPAAAAAAACE ✩ｌｅｔ. the waves up⇣⇣ 00 》take me down. 0g - going d o w n 。 。 。
↘↘ let . . . *тнe ＲＡ!Ｎ && come םown↷ space space space lol
more space more space more space ✚ Roland A. Markings ; The Second in Command


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relaxing, falling, into space...

♚⋮❝Now, many would think that when they are to enter a busy incorporate building, they would see things like scattered papers, cramped cubicles, and absolute silence save for the sound of rapid typing.. However, all of the mentioned above were virtually nonexistent when it applies to Roland's office. It was rather roomy, had a comfortable feel, and was always very neat and clean. The man would also occasionally play some soothing classical music while he worked, just so the room did not feel so empty. He ran a hand gently over the surface of his computer, sweeping away some of the dust that had gathered on top. It was an old design, compared to the high-tech desktops people used nowadays. It's not as fast as it should be, nor is it particularly eye-catching, but it got the job done, which was all that mattered.

♚⋮❝"You 'n me.. We got a lot more in common than meets the eye," Roland mumble vaguely to the computer, his eyes attaining a rather far-off look before he blinked back into focus. His wife had given it to him as an anniversary present. He should have gotten rid of it by now; it held too many painful memories. Despite that, it seems to have been the sole reason to why he chose to keep it. He just couldn't get her out of his mind, no matter how unreasonable and selfish she was. Roland always told himself that it was also his fault to why they were no longer married. And for that reason, he finds it impossible to sever himself from the past. He frowned slightly, finally realizing he was reminiscing over something that happened years ago while in his office. He had some work to do, didn't he? It would be best if he stopped with the painful memoirs.

♚⋮❝A hand reached for his phone which was placed conveniently besides his computer. Roland dialed in a few numbers and asked the person on the other line to fetch him a cup of coffee. Yes, he was fully aware that he just had a cup in the morning, but the man was pretty much a full-fledged coffee addict. On average, he had about six to seven cups a day. It was not healthy in the slightest, especially since he was, ahem, aging. But judging by their position at the moment, it was safe to say that the extra amount of coffee was needed. The Government was holding a dagger at their throats, and the festival that will soon arrive will determine whether or not it will slit their skins. Roland quietly said his 'thank you' into the phone before placing it back on its base. He then took a seat in front of his desk and switched the computer on.

♚⋮❝So.. About this festival. There were festivals all the time back where he lived when he was a boy. He loved them to death, but the same could not be said to the festivals in the city. They had massive floats, yes, but they usually symbolized some sort of reign instead of just simple artistic characters that children could enjoy. There were no animals to pet, no men in colorful overalls to buy balloons from, and no haystacks to rest upon as you lay gazing up at the firework-filled sky. Maybe he was just being a bit judgmental, but the fact that the Government was hosting this particular festival made it all the more convincing to him that there was some sort of scam to this whole ordeal. His thoughts wandered back to Johnathan, the supposed 'failed assassin' whom had tried to kill the Councilmen. He should have been angry... No, scratch that. Roland was outright infuriated when he heard what had happened at the scene of the crime. Was that guy stupid or what? Trying an up-front stab to the man's face while there were guards around?

♚⋮❝Even so, it had originally been Abel's idea to assassinate the Councilman ( No surprise there ), though Roland had been feeling remarkably morbid at the time to agree with it ( Now that was a surprise ). With an exception, however. The Councilman and only the Councilman was to be killed, and no other members of the Government. Though, their plans still failed, so the promise is now considered null. Still! With the festival only days away, the Rebellion has been making plans of their own. They had acquired the real video of the Karolian Incident, which was to be their main weapon against their foe. The execution of Johnation Holbrooks, however, had a large 'maybe' written on its forehead. If they are lucky, they might make it in time to stop his death. If not... Well then, they just lost another member of the NEFF. Which brings Roland to another thought: Why public execution? Who the Hell did the Councilman think he is? Maximilien Robespierre? Did they honestly believe they held enough power and influence over Mars to repeat the same actions dictators of the Earth did nearly ten centuries ago? If so, then Roland was half-expecting another French Revolution to occur within the premises of Helen.

♚⋮❝The idea made him snort as he scrolled down the document that was on his computer screen. When a solid knock came from the office door, he emitted an absentminded 'Come in' as a woman slowly entered. She placed the cup of coffee upon his desk, smiling when he thanked her and closed the door behind her once more as she exited. The male immediately grabbed a hold of the cup and raised it to his lips, uncaring of the temperature as he glugged down nearly half the liquid. It left a burning sensation in his throat which he ignored, as he finally remembered the whereabouts of Abel. The Leader said he was going to meet Lance, right? But the thing was, Roland had forgotten where those two were going to meet. And if Lance was bringing his daughter along with him, then it had to be a place which was public and kid-friendly.

That single fact made his stomach churn with dread.

♚⋮❝Public, where a conversation could easily be eavesdropped upon. Where a sniper could be hiding just a short distance away to finish his job. Just what in Hell's name were they thinking? Dammit! If Lance was afraid of discussing it in private with the Leader while Temperance was at his side, why not send his daughter over to Roland? He was practically an uncle to her ( And at times, he would question Lance's ability as a father ), so what was the risk? The male groaned to himself and rubbed wearily at his forehead. 'Calm down, Roland..' he told himself reassuringly, 'I'm sure they both had a good reason to why they ain't thinking rationally.' His train of thoughts was broken as several slamming of doors were heard from outside. The white-haired man raised a curious eyebrow, his visible eye staring wonderingly at his office entrance as appalled voices sounded out. Just what in God's name was happening out there?

♚⋮❝Well, that question was quite easy to answer. One couldn't spell 'Trouble' without adding 'Toby' into the mix. A bitter grin stretched its way across his lips as he slowly rose from his chair, taking heavy steps towards his door and bracing himself for what he was going to find outside. He opened it with great reluctance, and he instantly caught sight of several 'Out of Order' signs and shoe-prints on many Rebellion surfaces. Somehow, he wasn't surprise. He had to admit, these silly little pranks are nothing compared to what the Informant had done in the past. And for that, he was quite thankful. Still, a prank was a prank, and it was not going to be tolerated while Roland was around. With an exasperated sigh, he closed the door behind him and began his search for the illusive Tobias Astor. Luckily ( Or unluckily ) for him, he had just turned the corner when the raven-head ran into his chest. He took a step backwards, eyeing Toby with a look that clearly said, "Explain."

♚⋮❝And explain he did... Also adding in a bit of his own ideas. Trashing the place? He could hardly call it that since he had personally witnessed the destruction of his house. Then again.. Newspapers? Crumpling them and throwing it around the base? Where did this kid get all his ideas? "What's wrong with ya, boy?" Roland asked, jabbing a finger at Toby's forehead. "All that alcohol traveled up to yer brain or somethin'? 'cuz it's obvious that ya ain't right in the head." He hadn't answered the Informant's question to whether or not Abel was here at the moment ( Which he wasn't ). However, Roland was a little less than excited about having to explain the whole mess to his friend once he got back. People say that he himself could be scary sometimes while he was lecturing. Well, they ain't got nothing on the Leader when he's in one of his pissy moods.

♚⋮❝Just then, a blond woman walked past, her face contorted into an expression of disgust as she glared at Toby with contempt. After a very short exchange of one-sided words ( Courtesy of the raven-head ), Roland had to hold back a chuckle when she threw the crumpled piece of paper at the boy's forehead. He watched with mild amusement as the younger male kept that smirk on his face, though his frown returned when Toby started talking once more. "Glad ya see it my way," he said darkly, that spark of mirth gone. He didn't doubt it, either; messing with Abel had to be the stupidest thing a person could do, unless you're asking for a death wish. He had seen the Leader when he gets angry, and it was not pretty. He turned a bit so that his side faced Toby, a hand reaching towards his coat pocket to pull out his cellphone. The raven-head was blabbering again, much like a child, as Roland dialed in Abel's number and raised the object to his ear. "Hush, boy," he chastised, "I'm callin' Abel right now."

♚⋮❝When the Leader answered the phone, Roland spoke in the most level-headed voice he could muster up with. "Abel. This is Abel, right? Where are you right now? You with Lance?" there were noises in the background, which told him that they were probably in a food court or mall. He suppressed the urge to ask a concerned question, knowing that his friend would probably shoot back a remark that went along the lines of "You worry too much." While waiting for a reply, he lowered the cellphone and tugged Toby towards him with his other hand. "Clean this place up," he hissed through his teeth. "'n don't you give me no lip!" and with that, he gave the boy a light push away as he brought the phone to his ear once more.


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| ooc |

» »days are old. ★days are old . . . 000000 space awesomeface
｛♝｝but darlin`. 00❥00 i`m still ╰a`goin`╮
↴ ▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅ 「✦and with rainy eyes, i surpass this storm ❖
space space space space boobies space space （ ✿ ）

[The Titza]

IN-THREAD POST - 1215 words

████████ █████ ██ ███████ { ♕ } ████████ ████ ██

AS I AWAIT, WORD OF SATAN AS I DROP, FALL TO MY KNEES BEFORE THE OUJA BOARD, NOW LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP
AS I AWAIT, WORD OF SATAN AS I DROP, FALL TO MY KNEES BEFORE THE OUJA BOARD, NOW LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP
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░░░ ▌▌░░░░ ♚◝ ░░░░░░░░ ↳↳ LAW.f✧ck⇡protocol━━❜ Y'ALL ARE ROCK STARS, I'M THE OPPOSITE !
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██████████████ ❝CAN`T T↺P IT×× ⋮██████████████
COUGH FROM ALL THE SMOKE I`M TRYIN` TO STAY ON FIRE SO YOU KNOW I ********` HATE SPRINKLERS I DON'T LIKE THE HOSE
BACK IN THAT b***h SMOTHER THAT LIL` ******** 'TILL IT SUFFOCATES AND CAME BACK TO ANNIHILATE
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tab There was no hiding it; he saw that blush, and it did wonders to stroke his ego. However, he saw the obvious doubt and discomfort written on the male's face, a tell-tale sign that he ought to be more reclusive with his flattering way with words. He also seemed to be aware of their closer-than-average proximity and had promptly stepped back, giving Marco room to stare unabashedly at the flustered man. There were a couple of Natives whom passed by, flashing the duo odd glances and whispering softly amongst themselves. Somehow, he got the feeling that he was the source of those conversations. Even with 'normal' clothes on him, he still stood out like a sore thumb with his hair... Or perhaps, did they know that he was not exactly 'one of them?' Not to sound egotistical, but... Even if by some chance they did figure he was from the Ancient Regime, what would they do about it? As far as Marco could tell, the humans in this realm had high reluctance when it came to accepting supernatural forces. It caused him to think twice about his usually reckless actions, which is always good, but there's only so much that he could take.

tab An answer was given by the blue-haired man, a reply that caused a victorious grin to bloom across his features. Well, did that necessarily mean he was going to get laid tonight? ... Maybe, but this Native seemed guarded, so it would be best not to push him too hard. The redhead tilted his head curiously as he was motioned to follow, and follow he did. He trailed slightly behind the bluenette, trying to will his mind into not lingering on the male's buttocks as he distracted himself with candy. He questioned silently to himself what people would think of him, a rather threatening-looking individual (With a scar, no less) following some innocent civilian with that hungry glint in his eye... While eating some skittles. He snorted softly, brushing past a woman whom paused to quirk an eyebrow in his general direction. Marco, too, took a short moment to glance back and raise an eyebrow back at at her, all the while stuffing his face with sweets and suppressing a smirk when her expression grew rattled. He had to admit, it was sort of fun to mess with the Natives; they appeared to react colorfully to every action he did, including this particular male in front of him. Marco wondered briefly about what other reactions he could elicit from the Native...

tab He'll save that for another time.

tab They entered an area that was shielded with a fine cover of what looked like glass. He would have raised a hand and knocked on it, but decided not to for the sake of appearing 'mature.' However, he allowed himself to look around curiously, not sure why the other male had brought him there before said man turned to him. Marco paused in his chewing as a semi-friendly expression was flashed, eyes blinking dimly when a question exited those lips. He swallowed, slightly cocking his head to the side as he contemplated silently, gaze firm and unwavering on the Native's form. A question- and a bold one, at that! It seemed as if the man had not forgotten their encounter last week, which wasn't exactly a surprise, seeing as how he did breathe out smoke. He could also do it easily again, if it were not for the lack of proper air ventilation they had. His poker face turned to one of amusement as Marco released a low chuckle, rocking back a bit on his heels. "Well, aren't you straightforward?" he asked teasingly, a smirk in his voice. "Not that I mind, of course. I like people like you... People who don't beat around the bush," he pulled out a lollipop from the bag and took his time unraveling it, ridding it of the wrapper and tossing it aside before he promptly stuck it in his mouth.

tab "Tell you what, cutie. Since you helped me out a bit last week, I'll tell you a few things," he replied easily around the lollipop. There was a strange twinkle in his eye, but the lids fluttered close before Nikhil could be given the time to notice it. Marco stepped forward, his hands slowly lifting and reaching in front of him. When it seemed like he was about to touch the other man, his fingers curled around a metal beam besides his head. The General placed the weight of his body against it, leaning downwards so that his form nearly enshrouded Nikhil from sight. A shadow fell over his face before he parted his lips with a soft sigh. "You might have expected this already, but I ain't from around here," he began in an uncharacteristically quiet voice, his tone somber and smooth. "See, where I came from, I was called a 'General.' There were other 'Generals,' as well. We were... Hated. Outcasted. Feared," he breathed the last word, the sound coming out impossibly soft. "Our damnation was our destiny. We were fated to be tools of destruction. Let me ask you now: do you know who you're talking to?" Marco leaned down even closer, their faces now so close that their noses almost touched. The devious glint in his eye was gone, now replaced with something much darker and grim. He cocked his head, gaze unblinking and locking on Nikhil's own, holding it firmly in place.

tab "I've killed people, sweetie. With my own, two hands."

tab Throughout the whole, one-sided conversation, Marco's hand had silently maneuvered itself from the beam to the Native's head. The fingers played gently at the dark blue locks, tugging ever so softly before sliding down to linger at the back of his neck. His eyes flashed with an unknown emotion for a split second before he abruptly pulled away. His scar was aching, a sign that he was close to losing his control. It ached every time he was about to commit another atrocity, leaving himself feeling frustrated and angry at himself for not being able to contain it. He distanced himself away from the Native as much as he could within the limited space, turning his head away and refusing to face him as he ran a hand distressingly through his untamed hair. "Listen.." he ground out, the strain in his voice gravelly and sounding pathetic to his ears. "Be a smart guy and ask someone else, okay? I just... I ain't cut out for this type of thing," he would be lying to himself if he said he did not want to stick around just a little longer for Nikhil, but in doing so, he might risk the man's life. He just couldn't place his finger on it, but... He felt a far greater reluctance to hurt this Native more than the others. It was... Odd, to say the least. "You don't even know my God-damn [********] name.." he laughed, a harsh sound that expressed anything but mirth. "The same goes to me... " his voice trailed off, a distant look appearing in his eyes before he squeezed them shut, willing away the whisper in his head that demanded he do something he severely did not wish to conduct.



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❛██ █⋮LOCATION⊱Abandoned bus station 00 ❛██ █⋮MOOD⊱Extremely troubled 00 ❛██ █⋮COMPANY⊱Nikhil

▌▌▌▌ ▌▌▌▌ ▌▌▌ ▌▌▌ ▌▌ ▌▌▌ ▌▌ ▌ ▌ ▌spacegoeshere
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I AIN`T SATISFIED WITH CRIME WHEN ALL I WANT IS A BODY TO WRAP MY ARMS AROUND AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANGTS

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◜OOC⋮

[The Titza]

IN-THREAD POST - 824 words

Apparently what he read about pubs in the humans' articles were not as true as he thought they were. "Is that so..." he heard himself mutter, his eyes still glued to the snow falling outside of the window. Pubs were...the same thing as bars, weren't they? He's never visited one before, so Hell if he knew. He recalled reading somewhere that burly men enjoyed frequenting pubs, specifically ones that were Irish. If that wasn't the case, then perhaps he needed to find newer, more updated sources. Syntex shot a glance over his shoulder as Iri stood, his gaze flickering to the device she was rapidly tapping her fingers along. Keith Mason's exact location was still unknown, but he surmised the trackers he had sent out a few days earlier should find a close estimation soon.

"He is a low-class worker who's only duty was to keep track of weapons kept in the storage," the Synthetic explained as Iri continued to text her comrades. "It is unlikely that he has had proper training or experience in handling such weapons. There is, however, a possibility that Mason acquired training before working for Ghost Corps. Whatever the case may be, he must be stopped before he could reach the Untamed." Wild animals wielding guns...the thought was already idiotic within a sentence, impossible in the literal context, and dangerous in the metaphorical sense. Ghost Corps had access to very advanced and high-tech weaponry, and to have even a single one fall into the Untamed's hand may spell trouble for them.

He was certain of it - despite their seemingly primitive and unevolved method of fighting, their network was surprisingly complex, even his most skilled hackers couldn't break into their system. Imperium City was large, too. Very large. Firewalls existed across the entire expanse of the city's Interweb, creating an almost barrier-like sea of networks that acted as a useful shield for any organization that wished to hide from higher surveillance. It used to be less difficult to penetrate this barrier, but the Untamed was, to put it simply, getting smarter. Did they hire someone new, he wondered, to help boost their system's security? Whatever the case, the person who was responsible for maintaining all of the Untamed's firewalls was also incredibly likely to take an advanced weapon, tear it apart, and learn how to create more to arm their brethren.

The Dealer was already making her way towards the elevator as Syntex mulled over his dilemmas. Her voice faintly reached his ears, which had automatically began muting down any outside sounds in order to better support his stream of thoughts. There was a nearly inaudible click as his systems re-opened his auditory system; the light returned to Syntex's eyes and he would turn to watch Iri chattering light-heartedky behind the elevator's opened doors. Blinking slowly, the corner of his lips tilted downward in a small sneer. "Enough with the sweet-talk, Dirk. You know that trash doesn't work on me." Not to mention, he was quite aware of the fact that Iri wasn't exactly a big fan of his presence. He's argued with her too many times in the past to believe for even a second that she liked him. No matter - he was here to fulfill his duties, not make friends.

Speaking of friends...

Syntex whipped around and turned on his holophone again, quickly dialing in a phone number and waiting for the person on the other line to answer. It took only two rings before a face blurred into existence before him; the dark-haired male adjusted his glasses and offered the Synthetic a lopsided grin. "Ahhh, if it isn't the White Phantom! How may I be of service on this wonderful, winter morning?" the man drawled lowly.

"How is your progress, Johanson?" Syntex asked curtly, expression set into an unamused scowl.

"Oh-ho! Straight to business, huh? No wonder they put you in charge!" Frederick snickered loudly for several moments before he turned the holophone's screen towards his desk, which was currently filled with a wide variety of computers screens of different sizes. "But to answer your question, it's going just fine! Though, I suspect someone from their ranks is a highly skilled technician," there was a sigh before the screen zipped back to Frederick's frowning face. "The firewalls they've erected are very, very tough. ~ It may take another week before I can breach it properly again."

"Do whatever you have to," Syntex ran a hand through his hair with a sigh, a habit he picked up from a particular rookie. "But don't expose yourself. There may be others who are hunting you."

"Will do, Sir White Phantom!"

The call ended and the Synthetic would slip the phone back into his pocket. There were more people present in the lobby now, but he paid them no mind as he began briskly walking to his office. There was something he wanted to do before he left...

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▐░ LOCATION⋮ Ghost Corps ( Floor 38 ) 00 ▐░ COMPANY⋮N/A 00 ▐░ STATUS⋮ Researching Silvetta-16

[The Titza]

INTRODUCTION POST - 1269 words

◜♕♕ ▬ ▬ spacepsace THIS LOVE IS DIVINE !! ( ↷A CIT✧IZEN ▌▌▌
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THERE ARE NO SUCH BOUNDARIES IN SIGHT THERE ARE NO SUCH BOUNDARIES IN SIGHT THERE ARE NO SUCH BOUNDARIES IN SIGHT
THERE ARE NO SUCH BOUNDARIES IN SIGHT THERE ARE NO SUCH BOUNDARIES IN SIGHT THERE ARE NO SUCH BOUNDARIES IN SIGHT
THERE ARE NO SUCH BOUNDARIES IN SIGHT THERE ARE NO SUCH BOUNDARIES IN SIGHT THERE ARE NO SUCH BOUNDARIES IN SIGHT
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░░░░░ ♚ ░░░░░ ▆▆▆▆ ↳↳ ESCAPE.this⇡feeling◝ ━━thus FLEE ❜
d e a t h 0000 i s 0000 o n l y 0000 t h e 0000 b e g i n n i n g
██████████████ ↺WATCHING×× ⋮██████████████
FORGIVE ME NOW I HAVE SINNED FORGIVE ME NOW I HAVE SINNED FORGIVE ME NOW I HAVE SINNED
FORGIVE ME NOW I HAVE SINNED FORGIVE ME NOW I HAVE SINNED FORGIVE ME NOW I HAVE SINNED
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spaksfhdgg"We were tools of destruction crafted by an entity in the sky. Some call him 'God,' but he is known as by me, Artist."
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Someone's coming.

tab A gasp, then a soft rustling of clothes. There were people approaching... Humans, judging by their scent.

Impossible. No one is supposed to be here.

tab Pale fingers inched their way across the wall, sliding and moving along softly as golden eyes flickered to the figures making their way down the road. Two of them, both male, in strange attire that he had never seen before. They spoke in low voices, whispering among each other as the shadow silently stalked the intruders.

Why are they here?

tab Lips parted ever so slightly to release a quiet sigh, the humans instantly halting in their tracks to inspect the area. He watched as they split, one of them taking apart an old box that was filled with moth-eaten and moldy clothing while the other approached a broken car and read the graffiti on it. Folding his umbrella, the shadow gripped it gently, making his way towards the nearest human with inaudible steps. His back was turned to him- a perfect opportunity. Without so much as a warning, the umbrella was thrust forward, the sharp tip embedding itself deep within the intruder's skin. A hand immediately went to cover the man's mouth, muffling the agonized noises as the shadow waited until the struggling stopped. When the body went limp, he laid it down slowly, turning the corpse over to analyze his catch.

tab Eyes landed on the human's chest, where a small, silver badge shone dully in the dim light. Curiosity took the better of him and he leaned forward, reading silently the words written on the metal. 'Alpha Protocol.'

tab He jerked backwards violently, as if he had been burned. Horror and fear were written on his features as dread seeped into his very marrow.

No...

tab "Hey, Archie! You over there?"

They've found you.

tab Footsteps were nearing, a tell-tale sign that it would not be long before the other human would arrive... And to the sight of his deceased comrade, no less! He glanced down at the deceased 'Archie,' his fingers lowering to gently close the eyelids. As he stood and withdrew his umbrella, something stumbled into the area he was within. Startled, he backed away until he was hidden in the shadows, his heart hammering loudly in his chest. The remaining intruder approached where the carcass was, his expression turning steadily from confusion to unadulterated shock. "Archie.."

Run.

tab The shadow's eyes practically glowed from where he stood in the darkness, already beginning to slowly turn and make his escape. He held little remorse and more of terror; they had found where he resided, and now he must search for a new area. Chancing a lingering gaze over his shoulder, he immediately regretted it when he locked eyes with the human. The man froze instantly, his features growing hard before he stepped towards the shadow. "Hey!" he called out. There was a frightened sound before the dark figure dashed off, his form blurred and still mostly concealed because of the lack of lighting. The human chased him, repeatedly yelling out for him to stop.

Run, run, RUN! his instincts screamed at him.

tab A dead end was reached, and he would slow to a halt and stare blankly at the decaying brick wall. Finally, the interloper caught up, panting heavily and approaching the stranger with cautious movements, his gun raised. "Whoever you are... Turn around so that I can see your face," he breathed, eyes never leaving the shadow's form. There was no response- none whatsoever. It was as if he had ignored it completely, merely standing so still that he could practically be mistaken as a statue. "Hey! Did you here me? I said turn around!" the command was barked out harshly, though the only answer he received was the slightest quirk of the head. Suddenly, the dark form dashed to the side, his body becoming blurred once more as the bullets went flying. It dashed besides him and the human would reach out to grab the man's coat. However, just as his fingers closed around the dark fabric, it dissolved away in his grip, as if it was never there.

tab He stared, dumbfounded, at the empty air as he found himself alone once again.


- - - - - - - - - Timeskip, 1 week into present day - - - - - - - - -

tab Kuba Pawlak, also known as 'Auto,' sat on the edge of a tall building, swinging his legs and thinking quietly to himself. What happened a week ago was no accident; those humans... Whoever they were, were sent there on some type of mission. The true objective behind it? He was still unsure. However, he had been residing in that supposedly abandoned area for quite some time... Until they arrived. His peace of mind and solace was rudely disrupted because of them, and now, the survivor had likely returned to his commander to report the details of what occurred. Kuba wondered what that human might say- a murderer, perhaps? An illusion? Or maybe, an unruly spirit who seeks the souls of the innocent? He played with his fingers, unaware of the pigeons that had gathered around to join him in his idleness. The warm weather was the only thing keeping him level-headed at the moment. He shuddered the last of the cold from his body before glancing to his side, tilting his head when he saw that one of the pigeons was pecking at his umbrella.

tab Two hands shot out and caught the pigeon, alerting its comrades before they all hastily flew away. The unlucky one to be caught struggled in his grip, but killing it was the last thought to emerge in Kuba's mind. Instead, he pet it softly, a single finger running smoothly down the creatures neck to pick out the specs of dirt hidden in its feathers. A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips before it quickly faded. More often than not, he wished he could live life freely; to be rid of all the restraints and not worry about being chased or found. He wanted to sink into civilization, to become only a face among the dense crowd. His shoulders hunched as sudden sadness filled him, his hold on the pigeon slowly loosening without him realizing it. What would life be like if he wasn't... Like this? A sniff, and he would raise a hand to rub at his eye. The moment he did, however, the pigeon fluttered away, leaving Kuba staring after it in surprise. A sense of loss drilled into him and he bowed his head even further, wanting dearly to cry but at the same time, resisting the urge.

tab Slowly, he stood, standing at the very edge of the building as he gazed at the horizon. The city glimmered beautifully in the sunlight; the voices of people, cars, and animals bustling way down below. He wish he could join them, he did. But, he could not afford such a luxury. Not while he was still being hunted. Kuba turned away from the stunning sight and headed towards the building's staircase. He was in a clothing department that was closed at the moment. However, it was opening soon so he ought to make haste. He cleared the first floor and entered an elevator, making the rest of the way down before he exited out the way he sneaked in, which was an open window a careless worker had forgotten to lock. Kuba slipped out quietly and immediately started down an alley, deciding that he would take a short stroll before searching for a new home.

⇣⇣ ◝ TH - THICKENING VERSES❛╰ ████████████ and swindling lies
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pfffffft▌▌▌▌➞WITH.YOU__↺✧ • • • ▌▌▌ I CAN`NOT GIVE IN ♛▬▬▬&&
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I AM FACED WITH THIS EVERLASTING NIGHTMARE, HOPING TO REPENT, HOPING TO FINALLY AWAKEN
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THIS BITTERNESS, THIS HATRED --------- I HIDE IT WELL AND WAIT FOR THE STORM TO PASS
THEN I GAZE BEYOND THE CLOUDS AND SEE A FIGURE --------- SHE HOLDS OUT HER HAND, I REACH FOR IT WITH FERVOR
space▌▌▌▌ 000 ▌▌▌ 000000 ▌▌▌ 000 ▌▌yupyup ▌▌▌▌ 00 ▌▌ ▌

OOC:

[The Titza]

INTRODUCTION POST - 1367 words

0000 ➟ ▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅ 00&& *⇢ HARMONY00 ❞ 00讚揚和平
........................................................................................................................................ 000 利大于弊 ✦↷ 相信在和平 !! 00 ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇
00000 ⊱ ωнʏ ʟɪvᴇ 。↺ ɪɴ ғᴇᴀʀ ? 0( ♛↳ 0 ;没有结束⋮ ACCEPT__MY . CONDOLENCES 」
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〝I have ONCE ✧✧MADE MISTAKES ☇ - ❖ --- ♚ -- ♚ -- ♚ --↯ ♚
｛iANDi｝━N❛ EVER A.GAIN▂ will i ⋯REPEAT ♦THEM〞

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(┊❥__ʟocaтɪon__:Outside the gym。
(┊❥__companʏ__:This little kid。
(┊❥__emoтɪon__:Confused。
┗━━━ ━━━━━━━━━━ ━━━━┛
开始了！

*✦↷ A pair of wooden blocks collided harshly together as the Chinese man flung the objects upon the pavement. They clattered for a few more seconds as they skidded across the cement, finally stopping when they hit a large pot containing a young bonsai tree. He swiped his hands across his robe and grunted, turning with one graceful movement so that his back faced the kneeling, elderly male that was before him. "Is there a particular reason why you're here, sir?" despite the politeness of his words, his voice dripped heavily of discontentment. There was a certain jitter in his steps that made it apparent that he was slightly nervous, a bit on the edge. There were moments where he would pull up his over-sized sleeves in frustration while handling some chores only to have them slip back over his hands. A scowl replaced his usually serene expression as the old man watched the younger male move to and fro in unnatural haste, flinching occasionally when more objects were thrown out and hit the ground with a loud cacophonies. "If you cannot notice it by now, I am busy," fling. Crash. Rusty-looking pots and pangs were promptly tossed out and carelessly left on his front porch. The senior said nothing, merely stared contemplatively at the cluttered-looking man before slowly rising to his feet. "Jun.." his voice was stern and authoritative, a tone that one would use for scolding a child. Immediately, the man named Jun stopped, dropping all of the objects he had been hording in his arms while doing so. Some incoherent words were muttered in Chinese before he bent down to gather them once more.

*✦↷ Thick, snow-colored eyebrows narrowed in dissatisfaction at the scene. He watched Jun fumbled with the items for a minute longer before clearing his throat to speak. "As you should know, today is the day you must choose a fighter for your team. They have all gathered in the gym for training. You may visit them and observe their style, and afterwards, choose a worthy-"

"I don't want any of them," Jun stated bluntly, refusing to face the elderly man as he shuffled through the old cabinets that sat by the entrance of the building.

*✦↷ The eyebrows narrowed even further, his face scrunching up to the point where all one could recognize are wrinkles and white hair. Jun dropped a small, stone statue of a monkey on his foot and swore loudly, hopping back and forth whilst holding his injured foot as he did so. The senior sighed deeply and rubbed at his temples. Hopeless. Despite his reputation of being a level-headed and merciless mentor, he really was just a ditz-head on the inside. "You don't have a choice!" he suddenly raised his voice, balling a hand into a fist and bringing his foot down. "Don't forget your pledge, Jun. If you do not stay true to your words, not only will you be endangering your own career, but your partners', as well!" the rest of his words were drowned out as the Chinese man focused back on his task. For a while now, the small temple-like building he called home had been feeling less... Safe. Maybe it was just him being paranoid, but Jun kept thinking that at any time during the night, a robber would break in and wreak havoc in his house. He decided that if worse comes to show, he would empty out all the unneeded materials ( which is a lot, considering he's such a pack-rat ) and make room for some type of battle zone. The rush and combined stress of the incoming fighters and the threat of robbers had nearly pushed him over the edge, which is main reason why he was currently so... Eccentric.

*✦↷ "I will not allow myself to take a delinquent under my wing," he answered back coarsely, finding the word 'fighter' too bitter on his tongue. "These changes.. I do not like them. Why can't you find someone else to do it?" The old man shook his head. "It's too late, Jun. You had already agreed to it, so now you must fulfill your promise. If not, then I'm afraid you and your precious garden may have to leave here forever." Jun froze and bit down in his bottom lip, feeling various emotions mixing within him as he attempted to process his words. Of all the stupid decisions he had to make in life, why that one? From a martial art mentor to some owner of a teenage street fighter? Though, the man was right.. He didn't have a choice. What with all the ruckus happening within the city, he needed to take desperate measures in order to maintain his stay in the area. It was hard enough managing to move, just the thought of having to go through that Hell all over again had his gut retching in disdain.

*✦↷ "... One chance," he swerved around, his robes brushing and moving with his movements as he lifted a single finger. "I will give them one chance. However, if none of them are able to fit my standards, then I will have no other choice but to reject your proposition. That is my final answer," he nodded curtly and those dark brown eyes burned with an unknown intensity. If it meant 'adopting' some punk fighter and teaching him the moves in order to validate his stay, then so be it. The old man pondered for a moment before nodding, accepting his answer. "Good. I shall be taking my leave now. Hopefully, we'll see each other again some time this week." Jun watched as he opened the gates to his abode and exited the premises, almost leering when he heard the some of tires screeching against the pavement before the car drove away. "Good riddance," he growled under his breath. He looked at the discarded objects that were scattered around his gardens, finally noticing for the first time how careless he had been while 'taking out the trash.' "... Better get to work," he sighed before picking up the pots.


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*✦↷ After two tiring hours of back-breaking labor, Jun was finally finished and had taken a quick shower in order to refresh his mind. He had changed his clothing and is now currently on his way to the supposed gym the fighters were training at. He had seen a couple of them before, merely brief glimpses, but he would be lying if he said he liked any of them. Jun was a picky man- there was no doubt about that. If he had to look past appearances, the fighter would have to be pretty damn skilled in order to be picked by him.

*✦↷ Now nearing the gym, he sidled up to one of the large windows and peered inwards, seeing several young men ( .. and one woman? ) already starting up their morning routine. He frowned when a few of them began fooling around, shaking his head slightly as he began making mental notes in his head on who not to choose. However, a small tug on the hem of his pants caused him to look down in surprise, catching sight of a tiny boy that looked up to him with wide, curious eyes. In one hand, he was holding a lollipop the size of his head. "Hey, mister. Why are you watchin' the big kids play?" he asked innocently. Jun blinked at the question. "I, erm..." he hesitated, wondering whether or not he should tell the child the truth. It certainly wouldn't be appropriate to outright tell him he's looking for a fighter to buy.. Much too unsuited for someone his age. So instead, Jun leaned down slightly and patted the boy on his head, putting on his most friendly smile. "One of them is a relative of mine. I'm just here to pick him up." Hopefully, the kid bought that little white lie.

[The Titza]

INTRODUCTION POST - 823 words

Where is it?

A simple question, but the answer was nowhere to be found. Thirteen tore his gaze away from the garbage bags and tilted his head backwards. The sky was quickly growing darker - the rain, steadily growing stronger. The cold pinpricks of moisture felt pleasant on his heated skin as he directed his attention toward a pile of random scraps. He more scuttled than walked to the area, knuckles lightly scraping along the cracked pavement as he blinked at the treasury that beheld him. A small tilt of the head, and he would shove a hand deep into the pile, fingers clutching randomly before they wrapped around a smooth object. The male pulled it out carefully and wiped off the dirt, pressing a thumb experimentally upon a button. The flashlight flickered for a few seconds before emitting a soft crackling sound, then promptly turned off. Thirteen made a small sound of approval and placed the instrument into his knapsack. 

Footsteps echoed behind him, followed by the thrum of lighthearted chatter. He weighed the knapsack, contemplating silently whether or not he had enough materials for the night. Well...perhaps it would not hurt to collector a few more, just to add a little more 'decoration' to his home. Thirteen moved quietly within the confines of the shadows, feet almost gliding as he swiftly arrived in a remote and dark alley. It was there that he stopped to observe and listen, ears straining against the pattering of the rain and posture still, like a statue. In one, fluid movement, he turned his entire body around and crouched low, his visible eye practically glowing as a raspy warble escaped his throat.

"Fourteen...."

"Meow?"

A furry, black head popped out from a nearby trashcan. Thirteen tittered happily and hurriedly ran over, brushing an affectionate hand down the cat's spine and smiling behind his mask when it purred. He took a step back to look the feline over, accessing it quietly. Once he was satisfied that there were no injuries, he zipped down the front of his jacket and held it open, waiting patiently. Fourteen gracefully hopped out of the trashcan and onto the ground, pausing to stretch before looking up at Thirteen with large, green eyes. It positioned itself in a jumping position with head low and bum held high. When it leaped, Thirteen easily caught it upon his chest and zipped up his jacket once more, looking down at the tiny head that curiously peeked out just underneath his chin.

'Ahhh, safety,' the cat would be thinking. The familiar embrace of soft cloth around its slender form was a comforting one. Thirteen slung his knapsack over a shoulder and exited the dark alley, paying no heed to the rats that quickly scurried away at his approach. He quickly found himself standing out in the open and stopped to watch the people go by. Friends and families were walking through the rain with umbrellas in tow, talking amiably among themselves and not at all minding the slightly gloomy weather. A tiny pang echoed in his chest just then, and brief flashes of an elderly woman holding a small hand appeared across his vision. He made a noise of discomfort and quickly shook his head, thumping his forehead a good couple of times to make sure the images were gone. Thirteen then remembered that he had to be somewhere right now.... The White Star, was it? He believed there was a meeting place tonight, and all members were required to take part in it.

Yes, even the Scavenger.

The dark-haired male fumbled with the phone in his pocket and flipped it open, spotting the message that was sent to him by their Leader. He checked the time while he was at it, exhaling a soft sigh of relief when he saw that it was only 9 PM. Good, he still had about thirty minutes before the others should be arriving. Still, he was quite far away from the White Star at the moment... Better make haste. Fourteen mewed as the human began racing across concrete; he stayed near the buildings, keeping to the shadows as he dove through shortcuts and alleys memorized from the years spent wandering its corridors.

Light met his visage and Thirteen would slide to a stop before the entrance to the White Star, its large, neon sign shining brightly above him. The feline in his jacket started to squirm and he would hurriedly unzip the material, allowing the creature to jump out and stretch its muscles. Thirteen already knew by now that this meant it was time for them to part ways. He nodded at his furry companion as it began walking away, a silent message passing between the two of them that said 'Until next time.' As Fourteen disappeared into the darkness, the Scavenger crouched at the edge of the White Star, using the roof as cover from the rain.

[The Titza]

IN-THREAD POST - 1927 words

tab The silence that spread between them was shattered as Alick loudly clapped his hands; Jun broke their leering contest, huffing quietly as he nodded solemnly in response. No use sulking over something so trivial - Lao would be upset! If anything at all, he should be glad that his guide was a tough and bull-headed individual, or else Jun would have immediately flooded him with verbal lashes. But believe him, it took everything within his power to not freak the ******** out at the moment, because being dragged two thousand years into the future without any knowledge of modern-day advancements was never a fun experience. So, when his guide pulled out a little object he called 'technology,' the male couldn't help but stare at it quizzically. Technology...was smaller than he thought. Jun watched as Alick appeared to tap at the black surface, momentarily thinking that perhaps the brunette had lost his mind when a large-scale apparition appeared before his very eyes. The farmer reacted quickly and jumped backwards, fists at the ready in case the ghostly image decided to attack, but blinked when he saw that all it did was flicker. "What...what is this?" he lowered his arms, squinting pointedly at the globe-like figure.

Technology within technology...or was this even technology? It looked like one of those maps his mother had given him for his studies, except shinier.

tab As Alick began explaining the regions and areas with a rather bored tinge in his voice, Jun circled the 3-D map cautiously, frequently waving his hand underneath and over it to check if something was keeping it suspended in the air. Nope, nothing there. With a scowl, he promptly jabbed his hand through, only to feel nothing against his skin. He wiggled his fingers curiously, watching with mild fascination as the light of the image danced across his outstretched wrist. In his moment of 'observing' the spectacle, he had almost completely missed out Alick's explanation, but froze when a particular word reached his ears.

"...and is visited often by dragons..."

Dragons?

...dragons?

Dragons.

tab A dreamy expression overtook his features as once again, Jun tuned out his guide's useful words of wisdom. Ah..so this new world harbored the great, flying beasts? He recalled the stories Lao once told him, of how a great hero underwent a perilous quest in order to seek wisdom. At the very end of his journey, he had met a giant, gold-and-red reptilian with whiskers as long as the Yangze River; its eyes burned with fierceness and intelligence, with such piercing intensity that the hero felt helpless under the massive creature's gaze. However, it offered him nothing but kindness and guidance, teaching him the true meaning of honor and nobility. Jun wondered if he could ever meet a dragon like how the hero did in the story? With one last sigh, he shook his head free from his daydreams, returning his attention back to Alick just as the male finished his last sentence.

"...that's where we're headed today. Joe's erupted."

Jun cocked his head.

"Who is Joe?"

Hopefully, he was more polite than Alick.

tab The image of New Earth disappeared suddenly, most likely having returned inside its little box-like companion called 'technology.' His young guide took out another metal object, but it looked much different than its previous counterpart. Alick began walking in the direction of the entrance and, unsure of what to do, Jun followed closely behind. That was when he noticed that the male was straddling a strange mechanism; it seemed to be made out of metal, but it was so thin that it looked like at any moment, it would collapse beneath Alick's weight. Thankfully, it didn't, but that still didn't stop Jun from staring at it doubtfully. He neared the machine in order to get a better look, but was caught off guard when his arm was suddenly grabbed. The farmer glanced at the brunette and quirked an eyebrow. However, before he was able to ask why exactly he had decided to just reach out and touch him, a breeze started to blow around them. He gasped in surprise, looking around frantically as memories from the previous experience with winds triggered his stroke of panic. Jun snapped his head toward Alick, about to demand an answer until they were promptly lifted and hurtled into some type of ethereal tunnel. He couldn't explain it, but it was somehow different from being ripped out from his time, but that still didn't stop his stomach from doing weird flips inside of him. Before he knew it, they were on solid ground once more, now surrounded by giant, imposing buildings and sweltering heat.

tab With a gasp, Jun tugged his arm free and backed up into a metal beam, slumping against it wearily as his eyes darted rapidly in his sockets. Where? What? Weren't they outside of the courtroom just a second ago? When Alick turned to speak to Jun, the farmer could only reward him with a wide-eyed, petrified expression.

His face appeared to scream, 'seriously man, what the [********]'

tab "I-I d-d-demand a-answers..." try as he must, the threat ended up coming out a lot more jittery than angry. He gave up not too long after, allowing his head to drop as a low groan crawled its way out of his throat. 'Dying,' Alick had said. Gee-wiz, how very thoughtful of him to check on Jun's well-being! It made him feel so, freaking, special. Pushing himself off of the beam, he approached his guide on wobbly legs, about to tap him on the shoulder when he saw that the boy was walking toward another woman. She appeared to be sweeping...was that ash? With a start, Jun lifted his hand and slid a finger down his straw hat, mouth opening in aghast when he saw that his digit was now coated with the black material. The farmer finally spun to properly observe his surroundings, noting with morbid fascination that there was ash falling from the sky in the style of snow. Too caught up in his awe, he was startled from his daze-like state when rapid footsteps neared him. Jun turned around just as the woman from before began mercilessly battering Alick with her broom. Instincts kicked in and he was about to rush forward and help him, but instantly stopped when he heard his guide calling the woman..'ma?' His mother?

tab Slowly relaxing into his normal position, Jun fixed the twosome with an incredulous stare, tilting his head ever so slightly when the brunette motioned to him. He was about to bow, but then Alick's rude mother started spouting a bunch of crap like--

Oh.

Oh.

HELL NO.

tab Now it was his turn to be indignant; along with Alick's appalled cries about jumping to conclusions, a flurry of furious Mandarin flew out from his mouth. He halted himself abruptly, balling up a fist and squeezing it as tight as he can in order to not throttle the living s**t out of his guide's mom. It wasn't so much as the theory that he and Alick were intimate partners that threw him off, but the fact that the boy's parent had dared shown such disrespect towards both him and her own son that irritated him to no end. Even as he was finally introduced to her, he was unable to drop his scathing glower as he bowed in an extremely curt manner. "An honor," he all but growled. Another man appeared, saying nothing but offering the brunette a towel in which to wipe his face with, leading Jun to assume that he was Alick's father. 'It's good to know at least one parent cares,' he scoffed inwardly, but otherwise remained silent. That was when the woman loudly shooed him away, in which Jun was this close ( and that's really, really close ) to blowing a gasket and possibly committing a crime right here, right now, on his first day in New Earth.

tab Fortunately for Alick's mother, Jun had much more control than that, so he merely bowed to her once more and quickly made his way over to the brunette's side, but not without flashing her one last, lingering glare. His guide was talking again, but the farmer was already drifting his way into his own thoughts to be able to make sense of what he was saying. Again, Alick mentioned someone named 'Joe' and him erupting, but what piqued his curiosity was the word 'troll.' He has never heard of that creature before...were they the cattle of Orlak? Jun glanced down at the male beside him, eyeing him silently in contemplation. It was just a split second but...did his accent change just now? Probably just his imagination. The two walked for a few minutes longer before they reached a...glowing river. "What is this."

tab It was not so much a question as it was a statement, and looking at it now, Jun was seriously beginning to doubt Alick's sanity if he thought that this thing was a 'river.' He strolled over to it, nonetheless, with careful movements as he crouched down near the edge. He noticed that it was oddly warm...hot, even. He grabbed an ash-ridden rock near him and dipped half of it into the red-orange-ish liquid, eyes widening when it ate away at the mineral. "...impossible to irrigate," he heard himself sigh, slowly rising to his feet. "And I highly doubt that the land around these parts are fertile enough to plant crops upon," he frowned as he tapped the earth with a foot, feeling the unrelenting thickness underneath his sandal. "In my honest opinion, I would never want to live here. Your mountains spill molten material that consumes and destroy, raining down black ash and suffocating any plant life that attempts to exist," he neared Alick, briefly pausing to frown at the boy before he reached up and wiped away a black smudge on his cheek he had missed earlier. "But to each their own, I suppose. The only main thing I would care to complain about is your mother," he gazed at his guide sharply, his lips pressed into a hard line. "A horse cannot gain weight if not fed with extra fodder during the night; a man cannot become wealthy without earnings apart from his regular salaries," he recounted wisely, nodding his head. "Your mother pushes you, but offers no support other than brute force. Your career and your career alone will not help you achieve your dream. Or in this case, her dream," finally, he turned around, clasping his hands behind his back once more as his gaze drifted to an opening in a mountain a couple hundred of feet above them. "You're going to have to be creative, Alick Chance. Fortune does not favor the weary, so it would be best if you leave the past behind..."

tab At that moment, a movement within the cave he was watching caught his attention. Jun squinted as an odd shape appeared - human-like in shape, but lumbering and...bigger? "What is that thing?" he glanced back at the brunette, pointing at the mysterious form. Suddenly, one of the people near him gasped and shouted, "TROLL!" Immediately, the others reacted and lifted their heads, watching as the creature began jumping its way down to where they were. The farmer stared at it in horror, noting the sheer size of the beast as it swung its giant club. "That.." he grimaced, flashing Alick a disbelieving look. "Is a troll?"
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I whisper soothing melodies into the night, and catch the stray strands of hope
❛ ██ █⋮MOOD ▬ WTF 00 ❛ ██ █⋮LOCATION ▬ ORLAK 00 ❛ ██ █⋮COMPANY ▬ ALICK & ..TROLL?
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OOC ;; TROLL IN THE DUNG- /shot

[The Titza]

INTRODUCTION POST - 1065 words

"Punk-a** little b***h."

Cisco was slammed heavily against the hard, stone wall as a final punch was thrust into his stomach. He slowly slid down and slumped with a soft groan, unable to muster up the strength to even glare at the two thugs that robbed him. He could feel something sticky and warm trickling down the side of his face - blood, was it is his blood? - as well as the sharp pain that shot up his left leg. He couldn't even move his right arm, which was currently hanging uselessly at his side. "Come on, let's get out of here before anyone sees us," one of the men said above him. The sound of hasty footsteps faintly registered within his ear.

"Now, what might you two be doin'?"

A third voice, smoother and deeper than the thugs', was heard and Cisco would weakly lift his head in order to spot the newcomer. "None of your ******** business, pal," a thug retorted angrily.

"s**t, watch your mouth, Casey! Do you know who this guy is?"

The noises around him sounded warbled, muted. His hearing was off, likely because of that particular blow he received to the head earlier. Cisco could barely make out the rest of what they were saying before he realized the men were no longer talking. Instead, he heard curses, followed by several sounds that eerily resembled combat before all was silent again. Someone was walking towards him now, slowly and with purpose. He felt a presence beside him, then a gloved hand moving down to touch the base of his neck, checking his pulse. "Hoo, buddy. They messed you up good, didn't they?" rumbled the stranger, amusement subtly coloring their tone. "I can't keep callin' you buddy. What's yer name? Can you talk?"

He grunted quietly, and with much difficulty, shakily opened his mouth. "Cisco," he ground out, coughing. "Cisco, huh?" He felt his hair getting gently ruffled. "Nice to meet you, Cisco. You can call me Jackal. Tell you what: I've got some of my guys comin' here soon, so how about you come back with us, we'll fix you up, and we can have a proper conversation then?" Too suspicious, it sounded too suspicious and in normal circumstances, he would have refused immediately. However, this 'Jackal' appeared to have saved his life, and there really wasn't many options left for him while he's in this state. So finally after a minute, he nodded mutely, craning his neck upwards to face his savior.

Bright, golden eyes peered back at him through the darkness.

"I like your eyes, Cisco. They remind me of mine."

He lost consciousness.


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Rain was a'ight. It brought back memories of home.

Fruit punches by the seaside. Children laughing while their colorful kites littered the sky. His mother calling him back inside to eat dinner. Yeah, it was pretty chill.

This zombie-a** infection across the planet, though? Not so chill.

The rain was gone now and Cisco would shift underneath the makeshift tent he made for himself within the room. He had found a run-down office building and climbed to the topmost floor, the floor that gave him a good view over everything down below. Parting away the flaps (which were really just random pieces of clothing), he stepped over towards the window and opened it, shivering minutely when a cold breeze blew in. Earlier, he had heard a crash that came from somewhere in the direction of the forest. Cisco had half the mind to go over there to see if there were any supplies to salvage, but chances were, that the sound would have attracted others...and honestly, the Crow just wasn't in the mood for more company at the moment.

Just two weeks ago, his 'partner' nearly killed him in his sleep, and it was then that Cisco abruptly noticed the ******** guy was infected. He killed him - didn't really have a choice in the matter - and against his better judgement for him to not be affected with the man's death, he was. Philip was a nice guy; friendly, easy to get along with, and not a single selfish bone in his body. Too bad that damn disease got to him. Cisco's witnessed too many good people suffer because of it, and it made him absolutely sick.

Sighing, the male leaned against the window pane and peered down at the streets, squinting his eyes when he saw a small shape wandering around. It appeared to be...a male? Hard to tell from this height, but he didn't seem to be infected. The stranger disappeared behind the corner, though, so Cisco was unable to make out more of them. He lingered by the window for several minutes longer, just soaking in the smell of after-rain and was about to withdraw when he saw another shape moving on the streets. With a quirk of his eyebrow, he noticed that it was the same exact person from before. Was this guy lost or something? That's...pretty pathetic, actually. There were signs still up, and despite the wreckage, the city wasn't exactly very hard to navigate through. Cisco spent another moment watching the man lumber before he finally drew away with a sigh, already gathering up his goods to go down there and help the poor b*****d out. "I'm gonna regret this," he mumbled, pulling his pack over his shoulder.

The male descended the staircase as fast as he could, finally managing to clear all ten floors before he was finally outside. By then, however, the stranger was already gone, though Cisco would merely lean against a nearby wall, obviously in no rush. He mentally counted the minutes that passed, rotating before checking his watch and looking at the street before the black-haired man arrived for the third time. "Hey, you," Cisco called out, pushing himself off the wall. He took off his cap and began approaching the stranger, slowing down carefully the closer he got to the other male. "Need any help? Just lettin' you know you've been walking around in circles for the past ten minutes," he kept his tone light and casual, though his eyes were sharp as he took in the other's appearance. Huh...a bit too 'punky' for his tastes, but since the kid wasn't foaming at the mouth or bleeding anywhere, he seemed to be infection-free...for now.

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❝LOCATION▭ City streets 00 ❝COMPANY▭ Some guy (Ash) 00 ❝THOUGHTS▭ Might as well help him

[The Titza]

IN-THREAD POST - 1831 words

AND THEN HIS ARMY APPROACHES WITH EACH THUNDEROUS BEAT
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00 ✧CLEAR THE DUSTY STREETS ⊱* ◟THESE FLAMES❞ ARE →RISING ↺ TO GREAT H.EIGHTS↷ 0 ✧ m - misty spheres ✖speak of legends , ♔HERE ! it ×× cracks the looking && GLASS ⇣⇣

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◜♕⋮RHYTHM｡ ↺ ↺ 00 HIS MAJESTY✩ AWAITS ×× WITH POISED↳ REPRISE 0 ▬ ✧ ↙↙
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HIS RESTLESS HEART RISES WITH THE BREAKING WIND 000 HIS LEGACY STANDS UNBROKEN AGAINST THE UNFORGIVING STORMS
HIS RESTLESS HEART RISES WITH THE BREAKING WIND 000 HIS LEGACY STANDS UNBROKEN AGAINST THE UNFORGIVING STORMS
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˟➨ ▌▌THE CREW❜

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tab They were like kids, the bunches of them - no, more like...puppies. Yes, that was what they are. The youngest one was eighteen and the oldest was only two years his senior; he had found them not long after the death of his first crew. Not only that, but out of all six of them, only two were non-humans. It had been a chance meeting, but he had met one of his men while wandering the streets of New York one summer night. Apparently, he had just been kicked out of the bar for 'unruly behavior' and began aimlessly stumbling down a nearby alley. A couple of goons had singled him out as a perfect target and decided to pick on the poor b*****d, so what did they do? They started beating on him! Rafael had taken a moment to mull over his options, though it really did not take him long to make his final decision. The mugging became a full-on brawl: It was the King, the targeted guy, and the three street thugs. Though the battle was difficult and the two of them did not leave the scene unscathed, they were able to win with the help of Rafael's speed and quick-thinking. It was lucky that they were only up against normal humans, or else the results would not have been as bright as it was.

tab That man was his first follower, and also the oldest of them all - an ex-bartender of the club he had recently passed by. The story he told Raphael was that his 'wife' had been sleeping with another man that worked at the club, though he did not realize who it was until he finally saw him one night with the woman. They had been out back, behind the building, completely engrossed within their own little world when he decided that enough was enough and approached them...only to furiously send his fist flying into the man's face. As fate would have it, that man also happened to be his Boss, so he was immediately fired for that offense. His reasons fell to deaf ears, he claimed, so the night he met Raphael, he had gone back into the club to 'set things straight.' He was not expecting the Boss' bodyguards to be there, and was promptly booted back out, but not before he was given a little bit of pain to go along with his departure.

tab Having no other purpose in that city, he decided to join the King on his futureless journey. Over the months, the other four members joined, as well, whether or not their reasons were justified like the first man's. One of them even told him why they had left, and it surprised him because his insights almost perfectly matched Rafael's. Ever since then, they had been inseparable, and although there were moments where they would question their leader's motives, they ultimately learned to trust the redhead. However, their wandering was not always particularly safe or pleasant; he had lost track of how many times they were trapped in hopeless situations. One memory that rose above the rest was the time when the youngest of their group had been kidnapped. They had entered the ransom destination and were thus surrounded by unknown, masked individuals. After that incident, it took about two weeks for all of them to fully recover. If it were not for Raphael activating one of his numerous inventions, very few of them, if any at all, would have survived to tell the tale.

tab Now, he quietly chastised his energetic group (except for that one male; he rarely ever spoke), unable to help the slowly growing grin that threatened to split his face. No matter how many times he had experienced this, their exuberance and willingness to display profound felicity never ceased to amaze him. It wasn't a wonder why he had changed over the course of the years; it was because of them. They were changing him, ever so subtly, day by day... They gave him hope, a reason to go on. Even if it meant he was never going to find his calling in life, the least he could do is find one for each of his men. The littlest one of the group raised his hand politely, only clearing his throat when Raphael nodded in his direction. "I was wondering, um, do we gots 'nough money?" he asked innocently, eyes sparkling with a childish curiosity that the King only wished he still possessed. At that, his smile faltered, and a flicker of alarm appeared for perhaps a second before it instantly reverted back to his previous pleasant pleasantry. "Ah, how should I answer this..." he drawled softly, chuckling a bit despite himself.

tab A sound that resembled a computer program shutting down vaguely reached his ears, though Klaus did not have time to turn around to inspect the source of the odd noise before a familiar voice spoke besides him. Raphael blinked, barely showing any hints of his surprise though nodded politely at the dragon's abrupt interjection. "Maxis, hm? I'll try to remember that," he uttered, though he was unsure on why exactly he had told him that. Sure, he had told him his own name...or, nickname, but that was all in the honor of courtesy. Maybe next time they would happen to meet, he could say to him, 'Hey! It's me! That one guy you nearly dumped into the river! Klaus!' ...Well, something along those lines, though he was certain that such a thing would never happen, seeing as how large this city was already. They had only reached a single district, just barely scratching the surface of the other parts of Carr that resided deeper within the city's heart. Those areas, he surmised, might not be as welcoming as Saeboern.

tab "We've been here for a couple of days, yes," the redhead admitted, shrugging casually. "It's a much nicer place, compared to other cities we've been to, at least. There's a sense of belonging here you don't quite get from any normal city," out of the corner of his eyes, he saw his crew whispering among one another, their eyes shifting from their King to Maxis while they kept their voices low and hushed. He had a faint idea on what topic they were discussing, but he was going to have to address it directly...later. For now, he was stuck having a friendly conversation with another random stranger on the streets (whom just happens to know how to manipulate metal, mind you). The scales, for the most part, caught him off guard, though the accent amused him greatly (he didn't show it, however. You can't beat that poker-face!). It added even greater emphasis on the fact that he was a dragon and, if all those fantasy books he had read when he was young were correct, this man he was speaking to now might be hundreds of years old.

Somehow, he found that slightly exciting.

Not in a dirty way, of course.

tab Before his inner Fantasia nerd could emerge and wreak havoc by drowning Maxis with questions about his hobbies, habits, and past lives, the dragon suddenly brought up a subject that alarmed both him and his followers greatly. Raphael blinked at the male, aghast and at a complete loss of words. His jaw fell maybe three centimeters before he quickly closed his mouth, sharply cutting off the appalled sound that threatened to spill. The redhead averted his gaze, eyes searching all around him - left, right, behind - then landed on Maxis once more. He paused for a moment before carefully leaning in, a quizzical eyebrow quirked in disbelief. "...You serious?" he asked softly, unknowingly voicing the question that his whole crew was thinking. Well, it wasn't exactly everyday you would be walking around on the streets, standing on the edge of the river to admire the scenery, nearly shoved into the water and quite possibly drowned, saw some dragon guy use pure mental power to propel his tumbler out of the river, and then be invited to breakfast by said dragon guy, was it? Raphael clicked his tongue, the gears grinding so loudly in his head that he was pretty sure that Maxis could have heard it.

tab "So, let me get this straight," the King began patiently, straightening himself up to clasp his hands together. "You are...willing to drag us, a bunch of random strangers, to your home, quite possibly give us a place to stay, and feed us, free of charge?" he grinned kindly, the phrase 'BULLSHIT' lingering on his tongue, though he did not say it. If this Maxis man was telling the truth, this had to be, by far, their best discovery yet. He glanced at his crew, spotting mixed emotions and different polarities swimming in their eyes. Some were staring at the dragon suspiciously while the younger ones looked absolutely ecstatic, though they tried their best to conceal their excitement. Finally, he turned back to Maxis and locked their gazes, his own amber irises searching. Though, no matter how hard he looked, he saw nothing but earnestness in the other's face. It held the cool intimacy that Raphael himself shared, and it placed him in a momentary state of shock. No matter which way you looked at it, he was telling the truth. He really was offering them food and a place to stay.

...Or he was just a really, really good liar, and he's possibly leading them to their doom to be sold off as slaves to Ultrines and used as dog-labor, or worse.

tab The King, however, did not want to linger too much on that idea and allowed an uncharacteristically wide smile to breach his face. He felt like reaching out to hug the dragon, though he restrained the urge by keeping his hands held tightly together. He did, however, say this: "You have...no idea...how much I want to kiss you right now," he laughed jokingly, the ambiance of the situation causing him to feel light-headed. Still chuckling in a strange, dazed manner, he stumbled over to his crew, where he would promptly fall forward to be hastily caught by his men. "W-Whoa, King! You alright?" someone asked, worry apparent in his voice. Raphael snorted good-naturedly and nodded his head (tried to, at least), and waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, I'm super dandy. Great, actually!" he commented loudly, surprising his group with his unusual volume. He flipped himself over on his back while still nestled within their arms, kicking one leg forward as a signal for them to propel him forward. As they did, he trotted back onto his feet, appearing much calmer than before, though the smile was still there, albeit smaller. He nodded at Maxis before raising his hand, beckoning at him politely. "Alright, my good fellow. Lead the way!"

And so the King and his Company of Men followed the Dragon to his den.




☆⋮``MOOD ⊰ Spirited 000 ☆⋮``LOCATION ⊰ Saeboern 000 ☆⋮``COMPANY ⊰ Maxis


THE TITZA BE SPEAKING

i think this was kinda stupid i'm sorry

[The Titza]

IN-THREAD POST - 1986 words

↺` ♛｡ WHERE ` D↷ Y - YOU GO?⊱ ▌▌▌▌▌ SOME DAYS I FEEL LIKE s**t！
╰SOME DAYS I WANNA QUIT 00000 AND JUST BE NORMAL FOR A BIT 00000 I DON`T UNDERSTAND WHY YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO BE GONE 00000 so where`d you go? 」
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❝HUMANITY is━ a CRUEL✧ beast! ) ⊹ LYING◜ ▬&& ; to get your× way
⋮i am a merciless man ★ BUT HEY, DON`T TAKE MY WORD FOR IT
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Ｙｏｕ 00 ｄｏｎ'ｔ 00 ｒｅａｌｌｙ 00 ｋｎｏｗ 00 ｗｈａｔ 00 ｙｏｕ'ｖｅ 00 ｇｏｔ 00 'ｔｉｌ 00 ｉｔ'ｓ 00 ｇｏｎｅ
[******** this city and ******** its inhabitants.

tab People these days really didn't understand the term, 'Common Courtesy,' do they? Though Cyrus must admit, he may not be the most courteous and proper of fellows out there, but you do not, he repeats, do not throw objects at other civilians that were passing by. That was just plain rude. He dodged another beer bottle as above him, a pair of obviously-intoxicated men continued to rain down miscellaneous items. From what he could see, or rather, smell, they were just a couple of dumb, dirty humans who thought that it might have been a good idea that night to piss off an already irritated Devil imp. He was patient beforehand; he's always tried to be patient, since he valued Elipse's, bless that man, words of wisdom. When he had first met the priest, it was practically a showdown of the holy versus the damned, and ultimately, the seemingly harmless priest won. Was he appalled? Yes, he was, but he had quickly gotten over his crushing defeat once his new mentor started teaching him more about the mortal realm. Years of intensive training had been undergone, most of which included Cyrus resisting his urge to snatch anything within reach. Before he had become acquainted with Elipse, he had an odd habit of stealing knick-knacks from large to small, priceless to completely worthless. He had stolen them for many reasons...

But mostly, because they were shiny.

And he liked shiny things, oh yes.

tab The Priest, however, had not been impressed by his lack of integrity at all, and practically beat it into him that, "No, no, no! Stealing is wrong! Bad Cyrus, bad!" Coupled by some innocent spritz of holy water (that burned like a b***h, mind you), and some months-long amount of intensive training, he gradually tuned down his impish side and became more competent as an over-world dweller. But not only was his greed tested, but also his temper. He had a feeling that Elipse was purposely trying to piss him off by doing stupid s**t like, oh, I don't know, sneaking snakes into his bed at night? Replacing his shampoo with glue? Switching out all his clothing so that the only thing left in his drawers were pink, pink, and more ******** pink?

It literally took all he had to not strangle the crap out of the maniacal priest.

tab He would be lying if he said that those methods didn't work, however. His once fiery and explosive temper was soon lessened to but a simmer of agitation. At points where he would use to snarl and snap, Cyrus now instead stares coolly on in indifference. It had worked pretty well, actually. Still, for someone whom looked so air-headed and ditzy, Elipse sure knew a heckuvalot about torture - mentally, and physically. It had been difficult leaving the man's side, but once he was officially on the road, there was an unmistakable sense of freedom that had breached him, and Cyrus had inhaled it graciously, as if it were a breath of fresh air. Sure, his father down below was constantly sending up demons to hunt him down and drag him back to the deep depths of Hell, but he was free, and that was all that mattered. Surprisingly, it had been relatively easy sticking to his 'don't-draw-attention-to-yourself regime,' plus he had dutifully followed Elipse's teaching and managed to resist his instincts...most of the time.

tab Right now, he wanted nothing more than to climb up there and give those two cackling knuckleheads a piece of his mind. "An' I'm gonna do just that," he mumbled, smirking devilishly as he ignored the potted plant that flew past his head. Sucking in a deep breath, he relaxed his body, allowing his eyelids to flutter close as slowly, he 'melted' into the ground. A black puddled formed beneath his feet as on the balcony, the humans paused to stare in a mixture of confusion and curiosity. Cyrus appeared to sink, his descent into the ground running at a slow's pace before the puddle finally reached his knees. Then, with a momentary glance at the two men, he grinned evilly and abruptly disappeared the rest of the way down, leaving no trace of him behind.

tab "I'm comin' fer ya," his ghostly voice whispered, shrouding the men in a bout of aimless echoes. All of a sudden, they weren't laughing anymore, but were cautiously backing up into their room as the light seemed to dim around them. Empty bottles and beer cans shuttered and clanged together as the floor beneath them trembled, causing them to prop themselves against the wall as fear quickly and effectively began clearing their booze-riddled brains. Just as the miniature earthquake reached its most powerful peak, everything stopped. The silence that followed the stillness was uneasy, false almost. Yet, the humans exchanged glances and immediately began laughing once more, passing remarks about how pathetic Cyrus' attempt to frighten them was before a scorching torrent of blue flames erupted from the base of the balcony. A pair of horrified eyes instantly averted to the dark figure that was perched upon the railings, its sharp blue eyes twinkling with malice as a slender tail flicked inquisitively behind it. Twin flames the color of its irises glowed around its head like a demonic halo, appearing almost alive as it reached for the humans. The men were frozen in fear, unable to take their gazes off from the creature as it steadily lowered itself to the ground, crouching on all fours. It stalked towards them silently, clawed hands languidly shifting over the carpet as it crawled closer and closer to its preys.

Midst the darkness of its face, a wide grin stretched cruelly as it revealed two rows of glittering, sharp teeth.

WOOSH, CLATTER, BUMP.

tab The idiots had fled, having literally urinated themselves from fear and promptly left a trail of fallen shelves and broken plates behind. Meanwhile, Cyrus removed the layer of shadow he had covered himself with and rolled around on the floor, unable to control his cackles. Man, he knew he would get Hell from Elipse if the priest ever saw him doing this, but it was so worth it, that he didn't even give a damn anymore. "MAN, that felt good!" he shouted at the ceiling, lying on his back as his laughter died down. He hasn't had that much fun in, well, a long time. Though committing such acts on a daily basis may be going a little overboard, he was dead-bent on his conclusion that it shouldn't hurt to do it once in a while...just to ease his frustration, of course. Sighing softly in content, he paused when his fingers touched something. His eyes opened as he gripped the object, grabbing it and pulling it closer to see that it was a brochure-like paper. It was blank, however, but as he opened it, he discovered a few simple words etched within it.

tab "The Psychic," he read slowly, testing the sound on his tongue. He was only able to decipher that much of the human language... The rest was just a jumble. However, he caught sight of a few numbers scribbled messily in the corner, which he guessed was the address. Hm, what luck! He had actually been searching for a Psychic before this, as well. Perhaps this was the one the others were speaking of? Feeling that there was nothing else to do (and there wasn't, plus the place reeked of cigarette smoke and Satan-knows-how-long-old alcohol), he picked himself off the floor and headed to the balcony, leaping off and landing with a quiet 'thump' before continuing with his hunt.

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When did it get so ******** windy?

tab As Cyrus neared his destination, he saw hordes of gray clouds looming overhead, seemingly all gathering in one direction. He frowned, though quickly shrugged it off. Eh, he's seen worse weathers before. How bad could a little rain be? However, as he grew closer to the heart of the storm, the wind began to pick up its pace. His robes flapped behind him rapidly as he fought against the too-strong breeze, shielding his eyes as all around him, bits and pieces of debris lifted and swirled in the air. He was sopping wet now, which was bad, because having a wet Devil imp around was never any fun (unless you're looking at him, then it was absolutely hilarious). A string of curses flew from his mouth, all of it in the form of demonic tongue he had learned back in the Underworld. He saw no use of the language anymore than to swear, which conveniently came in handy since he was quite known for his potty mouth. Still, cursing at the sky did nothing to help ease the storm. If anything, it had actually gotten worse.

tab "s**t, I swear...this better be ********' worth it," he muttered, finishing the rest of the way until he heard the sounds of screeching. With a start, he looked up, spotting two harpies circling in the air above him. He instinctively dove underneath the cover of a shopping stall, glaring at them warily before he realized that they weren't aiming for him. "What in the...?" he couldn't see what the harpies were after, but by the looks of it, it was putting up one helluva fight. Somehow, he had a feeling it was also responsible for the storm. Lightning struck the skies, causing Cyrus to shrink back in surprise as the harpies shrieked in response. Damn, those bitches were loud! One of them eventually got barbecued by a bolt of electricity, the second one swiftly following its fate. They fell, one on top of the other, right before Cyrus, their charred, deformed faces staring at him emptily as he watched on in horror.

tab Deciding that enough was enough, he tried floating up to the roof of the shop, only to nearly be blown away by the violent winds. Clenching his jaw, he instead started scaling the walls, almost slipping several times before he managed to pull himself over the edge. The first thing he saw was a small, feathered lump in the center of the roof. "Hey, you!" he yelled over the roar of the thunder, clambering clumsily onto the tiles. "Just lettin' ya know ya just marked yerself as the number one go-to place fer demons! Thanks a lot, a*****e!" He could smell it, the magic in the air, and if he were to guess correctly, other demons would have sniffed it, too. As if his feelings were confirmed, there was rapid scuttling before a group of tiny imps emerged from the edge of the roof, immediately heading towards the feathered creature. Cyrus hastily dashed over and blew them away with a short burst of fire, sending them rolling off in frightened squeaks. There were probably more coming, and most likely, stronger than those harpies or imps. He glanced at his companion as he took out his weapon case, snapping the pieces together with practiced hands before standing to his full height. He had crafted a scythe and, after embedding it with his own power, reached into his pocket and flung out a handful of ashes. A quick chant was muttered under his breath before the ashes exploded, surrounding them with a thick shield of white smoke. Cyrus took one look at the Psychic before pointing his blade at her.

"Hope yer ready, kiddo! 'cuz there's a ninety-nine percent chance of SHITSTORM an' it's comin' right at ya!"

[The Titza]

INTRODUCTION POST - 1086 words

spaceeeeeeeeeeeeeee ► LOCATION ❛ En route to park xx ► COMPANY ❛ N/A xx ► EMOTION ❛ Neutral


Domeki caught a fly between his fingers as it buzzed past his head.

From his position on the roof of a run-down building, he saw several demons lumbering down below, some of them carrying heaps of rocks while others followed behind holding other miscellaneous objects. A small imp hung around the neck of its larger brethren, sporting a pink bra upon its head as it tittered excitedly about its find. He watched the steady stream of demons flow in and out of a large crater a couple of yards away - the entrance to the Gates of Hell. It has been about two weeks and still no one had been able to discover a way to transport Hell back to...well, Hell. Many of the demons had believed that if they weighed the area down with enough material, it would force it down into the underworld. Domeki had his doubts, however. What if the extra weight caused them to breach the Earth's layers, instead? That would be a problem. Not to mention, he had grown tired of watching demons eagerly dumping piles of metal and rocks into absolutely nothing; they would peer over the edge curiously after each deposit, whispering among each other if perhaps they needed more.

The insect in his grip struggled, limbs wildly grabbing at the air as it tried desperately to escape. Domeki gazed at it thoughtfully before releasing the creature, eyes following its tiny, black form as it flew away into the distance. How does something so small and...unattractive...gain the ability of flight? The same could almost be said in regards to those giant, metal machines humans called 'airplanes.' Now, there were quite a few things in this world that puzzled Domeki, but one of the most puzzling facts he had come to discover was that the humans somehow managed to figure out how to lift one hundred tons of metal into the air. He had previously thought they were using a specialized sort of dark magic, but that idea was dashed out as quickly as it came.

Seriously, though. How.

A sudden, ear-piercing scream caught the attention of most of the demons in the site, including Domeki's. Oh, right. The prisoners of Hell were on the loose. He had almost forgotten about that. The male smoothly spun around to face the  large, omnipresent wheel that hovered just right above his back. On one of its sections, Carita had torn off one of the stickers and slapped on a hastily-scribbled note that read, "Re-capture/kill the prisoners." He stared at it quietly, experimentally reaching out with a hand to give the wheel a gentle spin. The familiar 'clack clack clack' of the Torturer's wheel sent a good amount of the demons fearfully scuttling away, but when the spinning stopped to land directly on Carita's note, Domeki made a sound that resembled a tongue click. Using his finger, he pressed it against the edge of the wheel and slowly slid the digit down.

Hello Kitty.

The Wheel has spoken.

The demon pressed his palm upon the center of the wheel and watched as the object closed, spinning rhythmically as it withdrew each of its markers. When it was not but a small, golden disk, he took it and stored it within his pants pocket (his only pocket, too). The Hello Kitty sticker had been given to him by a seven-year-old girl whom went by the name "Sarah Parker." He had met her at a park, and she, along with several of her friends, were the only humans whom dared approach him at that time. Ever since then, the sticker of the cartoon cat symbolized the location of their first meetong, which was now his current destination.

Domeki stood from his cross-legged position and promptly jumped down from the roof, landing on and denting an already broken car. A young devil imp lumbered his way over to him, nervously wringing his hands. "Torturer, I bring reports of human and demon casualties," he hissed, a thin tongue snaking out between his lips. "A total of seventeen demons and sixty-two humans have died within the past five days, and we suspect the numbers to continue rising." When the imp finished with his explanation, Domeki would incline his head in the direction of Carita's usual hang-out spot. "Do you plan on informing Carita-Beileag?" he asked softly, forcing the other demon to strain to hear him.

"Yes."

"I have one more question." The imp paused, then nodded slowly. "How many children within those sixty-two?" Silence stretched between them as the demon furrowed his eyebrows in thought. Finally, piercing red irises rose to meet his own. "Twelve."

"...that is all. Thank you," Domeki practically whispered, bowing his head. The imp, in return, bowed as well before running off to spread the report to the Right-Hand. 'Twelve kids,' his mind echoed as he started to exit the construction site. 'Twelve innocent lives who will not live to see the day where their own children may walk these streets.' He supposed he was slightly grateful - in his own rather morbid way - because he did not know how he might react when, many years later, those same children he once talked with might meet him again in the torture chambers.

Now now, Domeki. Let's not jump to conclusions here.

Who's to say those children won't grow up to be successful and kind people? At any rate, they're in a better place now, and he honestly hoped that their stay in whatever Heaven it is will be a pleasant one.

Before stepping over the bright, yellow line that separated the demons from the humans, he glanced behind him to make sure his tattoo was still visible. Sure enough, the dark red triangle sat idly on the back of his right shoulder blade, letting all who cared know that he was not an escaped prisoner. It had been difficult to find an empty spot on Domeki's upper body to place the tattoo on (not to mention, he was very adamant about the mark not clashing with all his other tattoos. The others found it surprising how picky he was when it came to clutter), but the deed is done, and he was hoping he could go a full day in the city without having holy water flung on him (or getting beat with a wooden cross. That hurts). Without further ado, he exited the construction site with images of giggling, crayon-bearing children bubbling in his mind.