Welcome to Gaia! ::

Vlad was walking towards the smell of people, and, more importantly, food. Every fiber in his body was saying that he should not go towards people given his recent experiences as the personal guinea pig to his father and his cohorts.

The thought of his father made growl and bare his now impressive inscissors. One hand, all but trembling with rage, grasped at the chain he had wrapped around himself underneath the long black trench coat he had found as replacement for his tattered clothes. He stopped, seeing that he had reached his destination and opened the door. Behind a bar, he viewed a familiar ponytail and unique ears.

All his cash was gone. "I really hope he vill underztand and ztart a tab," muttered the youth.

The only money he accepted was that which he earned. At first, Tlaloc had been amused- how long would it take for a mere child to see that work did not come so easily to his age? How long would it be before an empty stomach drove his little prophet to steal? But now he was beginning to become annoyed. A few days now since Rafael had agreed to join the game, and they hadn't spoken of it since.

Oh, he could talk, but the boy seemed not to listen when he was focused on working. They had talked about the rules of the game, the basic concept of what was happening. The boy now knew that he was dealing with a god in his mind, though which it was he didn't know, nor did he seem to care. Tlaloc was honestly somewhat perplexed. Had he not picked a warrior? Had what he had seen in the boy while he was observing him all some mistake? No. He was not wrong, after all the centuries of experience of looking into the darkness of man's heart. Rafael was exactly what he was looking for... damn if it would be as easy as he had originally thought, though.

Right now, they were sitting at a bar in a cafe. The Mexican youth had wrapped himself around a glass of water which was now almost finished, glossy brown arms propped upon the counter. His bright blue eyes were regarding the melting ice cubes and not paying particular attention even when he heard the door open. However, the dark black shadow passing him made him glance over- what loco would wear black in spring, after all? Seeing Vlad made his eyes narrow slightly, before he glanced away again.

Well, what do you observe, telpochtli?

Rafael didn't respond. The voice was in his head, but he had found it uncomfortable relaying a response, verbal or non. Half the time he didn't want to, less than concerned with this Game he had unwittingly signed up for when all he wanted was to settle a tiff. His eyes lifted to Writ instead, flicking over the boy's strange ears and disposition. They were similar. And now they were speaking with one another.

Good.

He decided he would watch for now. It might not mean anything. Wait- it shouldn't mean anything at all to him. Right? 397 words

Writ looked at Vlad with a open mouth and a shocked look on his face. Now that he mentioned it-

Well, skin him alive...

"VLAD!" Writ yelled, embracing his friend, "Damn, you grew! Didn't even recgonize you man!" He laughed, "Anubis said you were dead! But here you are!" He looked up to the ceiling and pointed at it, "Take that you stupid gods, my friend's here to stay! WOO!" He punched his fist in the air. Writ was estactic. He wasn't quite the same after the failed assault on the Blacksuits, but to know that their attempt wasn't in vain let loose a dam of happiness to wash out the decaying angst.

"Yeah... Yeah" He said after Vlad hit the floor, "I'll get something, sit tight." Writ scrambled to grab muffins from the display case and a couple bottles of water. He jumped over the counter and put the food near Vlad's head. Writ crouched down and looked at him, "What the hell happened to you man? You look terrible."

Vlad looked at the little brat and got to his feet. The nerve of some people! Here he had been, just talking with his friend, and some little kid comes up and just waltzes in and starts to talk down to the two of them. Now it was bad enough to Vlad, but insulting a friend instead? Well, that was one step too far.

Vlad looked again at the snot-nosed little whelp and started to growl. He started to stalk towards the kid. Once he reached the table, he slammed his hands down on the table and put his face on level with the little know it all. He was so mad that his claws went straight into and mostly through the wood.

Despite his anger, Vlad's voice stayed cool. "Vat are you looking at? You look az though you know everysing, but do you know about zis?" stated Vlad. He took off his coat, revealing a lean but impeccably well-muscled frame. All that remained of his clothes were tattered pants and the chain he wore across his upper torso and wrapped around his arms. In doing so, he showed that he was almost completely covered in various scars and bruises.

Turning to Writ, who looked shocked at what he saw, he said in the same cold voice, "To answer your qvestion, I vas tortured. Often by my fazer."

Vlad reached down and swiped the kid's drink, gulping it down. When he was through, he crushed it with his claws, looking at his new "friend" the whole time.

What a show. Had Rafael been more in possession of a sense of humor, he might have clapped for the Slav. But he didn't, so he didn't. Instead he watched as Vlad showed off his scars and told the whole cafe his life's tribulations, to him, a stranger. Rafael's respect for the older boy dwindled even more. Meanly, he wondered if the boy didn't deserve something of what he got if he happened to act like this in public all the time. For the first time since he'd joined the game, Tlaloc became amused with him, though Rafael didn't know as much.

"I'll be looking where I want, culo. If you didn't want me to, maybe you shouldn't have thrown yourself onto the ground and caused a scene," He returned boldly, his azure eyes flashing dully. It was if Vlad were the child and he the elder of them. Some of the glass shards tinkled onto the tops of his denim-clad thighs but he didn't seem to mind at the moment. He stared at the other a little more, just so it was clear to Vlad that he couldn't care less about the stranger's tribulations.

Then he addressed Writ. "Ah, hard life. Do we not all in this city? Listen, I come here after I work all day and expect a place of business to be a place of business. Then this chingada friend of yours comes in, throws his life on me and all your customers here and I am the a*****e? I am sitting. It's you that is getting worked up." His stubbornness kept him in place, his temper flaring and causing his words to be more accented. But his pride kept him cool in the face of the two boys who seemed to be losing their minds. His hand had long since touched the thick purple stick that he had set by his chair, invisible to the two due to his legs being in the way of seeing.

His eyes were on Vlad again. "I don't know you, okay, but you don't know me either. But I'm not going to force you to listen to me to complain about my troubles, and I am not going to keep my mouth shut if you are going to be an idiot right in front of me. If you have to wallow in self-pity, if you gotta have a screaming reunion with your friend, you go take it somewhere private and let me drink in peace you stupid boy. Now. Do something or get out of my face." He was unimpressed, and he was challenging Vlad. He didn't think he had done anything wrong- the guy could have just ignored him.

A bold move. Are you ready for a fight, though, my warrior? 493 words

Vlad looked at this little kid and his mouth started to twitch. After a moment, he broke out in a hysteric, barking laughter. He slapped the kid on the back, making him jerk forward a little and said "You are very overconfident for your size, child! Zat iz good, but too much can land you een trouble. Remember zat, da? Ah, but vere are my manners, I am Vladamir Krisnakov!" Vlad stated that last part with a flourish and took a deep bow.

In the middle of his bow, Vlad finally notices that Maria has entered upon their little "meeting" and was just sort of staring at the three of them. He stopped mid-bow and stared at her for several seconds before realizing he was mostly un-clothed and, more importantly, was having her look at his scars.

Vlad quickly lost interest in what else was going on and hastily cover himself with his trench coat. He tried to casually walk over to her when he remembered her stupid furball of a feline and stopped dead in his tracks.

Suddenly, Vlad began to laugh. The boy narrowed his eyes warily but nothing more on his face changed, his body stiffening at the smack on the back. He was quite tempted to whack the older boy for it anyway, but contained himself in the end. He did scoff at the other's little words of advice, however. And the name seemed to have been missed entirely.

The dog boy's attention seemed to have been drawn as a lone female child entered. Rafael turned his head to give her a short glance of acknowledgment, but didn't really see anything special in her like Vlad seemed to. Another one of their friends it seemed. Great.

"I'll remember that when it's time to tip you, bendejo." Was his simple, sardonic retort. The Mexican boy rolled his eyes after him, then turned his attention to brushing the glass off of his lap. He wasn't about to be chased out when he wasn't finished, so he retrieved another bottle as well and set himself to finishing it off. He didn't have to get into a fight, but damn if he wouldn't stick up for himself. When Maria ended up at the counter too, Rafael simply nodded to her. There were a couple Asians where he came from, so it wasn't an uncommon sight to him to see the pale-faced, dark-haired, and almond-eyed combination. 227 words. Total so far: 1,337 words

Vlad painted his face with an expression of mock hurt, and pouted. Looking pitifully at Maria, he slid into place next to Writ and said, "Not us!! Ve are good leetle boyz! Ve almozt never do anysing wrong!....Vell, zere nas zat incident at ze carnval..." Vlad shivered in remembering that event. "Midgets are scary ven zey are upset, da Writ?"

Sighing heavily, he faced Maria in yet again, preparing to do something very hard. Thanking someone in earnest. "Maria.....Maria, if eet had not been for you and zat fishy, prettyboy vis a bad attitude....I...." Vlad trailed off and looked down at his clawed toes.

In a very small voice he finally said "I'd be dead. Sank you."