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 Posted: Fri Feb 05, 2010 2:28 am
Who: Lazarus, Basil (Kyou maybe?)
Where: Durem streets
When: About 10pm at night
The night was quiet, perhaps a little too quiet as Lazarus floated through the empty street. During the day time this area is usually bustling with activity, vegetable stalls, fish vendors, flower sellers all adorn the streets as they go about doing their business. The fragrant smell of freshly baked pastries would often times waft out from the cafes littered around the area. There is also the occasion shop that sells all sorts of weird knick knacks, like bone candle displays, shrunken heads and exotic scented candles.
However there are none of these shops open at this hour. A little earlier Lazarus passed by a dinky little pub with a drunken man laying on the floor outside, but that's about it as far as activity on the street goes. The shops in this area usually closes early in the evening. As Lazarus passed by a closed flower shop, he couldn't help but notice how dark the little alleys are in between the shop lots. The double-storey shop buildings shielding the street lights, preventing any from entering into the small narrow space. The Sigel felt a light shiver run up his spine as he realized anything could be in the darkness, and it is creeping him out. Peeling his eyes from the dark nothingness, Lazarus continued on his journey back home. Why oh why must he miss the last bus to Gambino?
For the last couple of hours he had been lingering in a music store. Having not kept up with music for a while, he decided to listen to some new tunes in the store and was so engrossed with listening to music that he totally forgotten about the time. It was only when he realized that there were few people in the store and that the store front shutters were half closed then he realized he needed to leave. So paying for the CDs he fancied, he exited the store and totally missed the last bus to Gambino by a good 15 minutes. It's all good though, there is another bus station on the other side of town that runs to Gambino until midnight, and Lazarus had to crossed this quiet street to reach there.
Lazarus let out a silent gasp as he heard something to his right side, a rodent? Some fallen items? Or... a robber? Lazarus couldn't tell as he tried to peer through the dark alley. Flapping his wings uncomfortably, he decided to quicken his pace as he floated a little faster down the street, he is only halfway there!
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Posted: Sat Feb 06, 2010 12:38 am
It was strange the shape that his woman took when asleep upon the sofa. Liquid, a boneless pool of flesh and meat, her body limp and abate as the speaking-box filled his head with it's words and commandments. The pixelly people that flickered across the screen-- animate yelling heads with no bodies that cried and assaulted his senses. The box could be loud sometimes... But the people living inside of it were to blame. Destroying their house would perhaps silence them for a little while, but Basil knew how terrible he would feel for doing so... and that he would have to answer to them eventually. Sometimes... even after the box seemed to be dead, he continued to hear the buzz of the voices. The echo of adverts and the intrusive sounds of zany cartoons. The flies in his head were in a state of unrest when they heard the voices. The flies did not like the speaking box. They did not like it one bit. This evening was no different.
How he had managed in his distrait meandering, stumbling through doorways and pacing the halls, to make it onto the murky streets one couldn't rightly say. When operating the lift, it was a strange, mechanical motion with no present thought to it. When pulling the lever and waiting for his stop, it was as if he were watching a film of himself, or of his woman performing these duties... Who was to say he was aware? He was able to drift, ghost-like through the lobby and out into an open, endless world, unbridled, with no one to restrain him. No one to inquire where he may be going on this evening. No one to usher him home where both he and his quirks were safe and understood. No one to call out to him as he inspected the alleys and streets, on the hunt for small, quick things that he could pursue and play with.
He was loose.
He must have made it at least a mile from the Gregarious Arms in his disorientation, walking the umbra as if he had walked it his whole life through. Refuse bins held especial delight he discovered. Sometimes he found funny little things inside of them. As if people put them there like hiding places in a treasure hunt. As if they were meant for him to overturn them and pick through their contents. The metal made such a lovely song...
Of course, in such dim light, he found himself relying on his infa-red vision. It didn't make navigating places any easier on his poor vision, but the heat residue from various appliances, vehicles, and night-time creatures were suitable markers. Like arrows that pointed the way. When he had located one brightly heated object in the distance, he pursued it until he found the next one. A trail of bread-crumbs, markers to unknown territory so rare and mystical it may disappear with the rising sun. All he knew was the absence of purpose and thrill of exploring. It was then however, while he was rapt in absorbing the tender vibration from a fuse-box, that something in his peripherals was nearly blinding him! Oh what, oh what was passing through that emitted so painful a beacon! This striking, amorphous light. His eyes were stinging! His head was on fire! He found himself immediately reverting to his everyday vision, banging both fists against his head to make the agony dissipate.
In his normal vision, he could just barely make out a pallet of reds and whites. The contrast, the boldness. He could make out a floating being. A strange new sight worth investigating. How could something so seemingly average, emit so pungent a light? Not even the moon was at it's brightest this night... Misted by smog and by skyscrapers. He wished to creep closer, his hood drawn and blunt fingers working his scalp to keep the flies at bay. What made the stalking even eerier, was the silence in and of itself. The painfully quiescent streets barren of life and luxury. With him, was not even the benefit of the telling galumph of dragging feet, or the haughty heave of moist breath. No... There came only the gentle scrape of his shoulders should he edge too close against the alley walls. The smacking of his dry mouth. The whistle of the breeze as it creeped across his narrow form. The noises were subtle, but in a sea of silence, they stood pronounced and mighty as the most vast of islands.
Bringing his hood tight against his cheeks, he spasmed in the darkness, "Fft! ...Fft!"
He emerged into the street, face cast in blackness and rune glowing brighter with his rumbling pangings of excitement. This creature in his midst was much more defined now, more visible, but his appetite was not yet slaked. The serpent crept closer still until nearly assaulted by the billowing of red hair as it flowed behind with his quickening pace. Basil crept closer still, wringing his argid hands within one another like animals tumbling in a burlap sack. He was a reptile. He was scaly and smooth, a marauder slipping like a dart of lightning through grassy tarns, unseen, undetected. He managed so close the prickling of fine hairs upon his neck could nearly feather the cobra's nose. He could smell him, he could absorb the beating of his heart as it quickened. His dark eyes were rapacious in the minutes before they were compelled to shut. His lips drew back, his nose wrinkled as if to sneeze---!
"FFT."
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Sat Feb 06, 2010 5:40 am
Lazarus was so absorbed in trying to get out of the dark street, that he failed to notice a figure following from behind. It doesn't help that this figure floats like he does and doesn't make any sounds of foot steps either. A street light flickered up ahead, it's bulb struggling to stay alight. The effect it produced just made the entire atmosphere around the street that much more creepier. Nevertheless, the Sigel continued on without trying to even take a glimpse at the dark alleys around him, his eyes fixed on the street opening just ahead, looking forward to be on a busy road again.
As Lazarus got closer, the light suddenly went out with a gentle 'pop', showering the immediate area in darkness. Lazarus gasped lightly and slowed down his pace just a little. However, it was this simple act of gasping that made him aware of the pungent smell of rubbish that suddenly appeared out of nowhere. With the loss of sight due to the darkness, the Sigel's other senses were heighten. Then came that sneeze...
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" Lazarus screamed in surprise when he whirled around, the noise penetrated the silence like an arrow. The figure behind him was dark, wearing a hoodie that casted an eerie shadow over his face, and he was uncomfortably close! It was a hobo! He's going to rob him! He's going to attack any second now! The scene immediately felt like a slasher movie scene. Without thinking, Lazarus swung an arm at the dark figure, his defense mechanism kicking into action and when his arm came in contact with the other's, it set their arm warmer on fire. The light from the fire lit the area up, and only then did Lazarus noticed something odd about this figure. He doesn't have a lower body?
Oh God he's a Raevan!
Panic rose in Lazarus as he quickly smack at the Frei's arm warmer, trying to put the fire out.
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Posted: Sat Feb 06, 2010 10:13 pm
It all happened so quickly...
There was a masculine shriek, a sudden strike against his body! A miniature expulsion of fiery light that was now clinging against his arm! The sudden shock had seemed to instantaneously switch off the boy's present mind, sending him spiraling to a place that was dark and warm, nestled into the grooves of his psyche where no pain existed, and people were inflammable. Disassociation at it's best... The boy was on fire, but for the slightest of moments, the earth stood motionless with the stillness of his eyes. Lost... Forgotten.
The mechanism was short-lived as his nerves cried and pleaded for him to take action when the embers had reached his skin and the new creature was now continuing to hit him! This jolted him from his clairvoyant holding-pen; he had no choice now but to react!
The flame had eaten a hole through the center of the warmer, a flicker of it having licked the skin underneath into a nasty burn, due mostly in part to the slowness of his reaction-time. Thankfully he had had the presence of mind to yank the entire garment off and throw it into the street where the flame could slowly die before it was any worse. Mollified and in pain, he examined his forearm. It looked much worse than it actually was, but Basil could never say he had experienced a sensation like that, his perturbation amplifying both the stinging, and his heart-rate. What was the fanciful, blinding essence that had just layed waste to his special warmer? An even greater concern being, what was happening to his flesh...? At the burn site, otherwordly fissures radiated outwards, like darkening veins spreading and stretching, nearly consuming the entirety of his arm and vanishing, growing fainter where the tendrils reached furthest. The pattern resembled broken glass...
Trembling and excited, he shied from the new raevan's assault (good-natured as it was in attempts to extinguish him), baring a beastly set of predator's teeth and issuing a dark, pressurized hiss before retreating elsewhere into the blackness from whence he came.
Searching for the nearest place to hide, he could be found nestled within the bowels of a nearby alley, smacking his forehead repeatedly into the brickwork. His voice rattled with a terrible moaning, escalating into loud cries. Basil could not handle stress of that magnitude. His mind simply could not process it, causing both mental and physical unrest. It was as if there were some part of his consciousness that slept, that...prevented certain functions of his mind from working. Including the ability to register trauma...
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Sun Feb 07, 2010 11:01 pm
Lazarus backed away swiftly when the mysterious Frei reacted and yanked the arm warmer off of his arm, the fire licking the useless garment mercilessly. It was with the faint light provided by the fire that Lazarus saw the Frei's burnt wound... cracking? The marking was fade, not as prominent as actual cracks, but the pattern on the Frei's skin made it looked like he was made out of porcelain.
The Sigel was about to open his mouth and asked if he was alright when the Frei moved, backing away from him and hissed in an animal-like manner. The incubus knew better than to go near him now, if he didn't attack him just now, he might now. Lazarus did attacked and hurt him after all, although it was unintentional. So the Sigel just stayed still as he watched the Frei disappeared into a dark alley. But he can't just leave him be like that, he was hurt! Furthermore, what was he doing out in the middle of the night like this? Alone nonetheless. Against his better judgement, Lazarus decided to give chase to the mysterious Frei, following him into the dark alley.
Wary of the darkness, the Sigel conjured a small flame in his palm to aid his poor night vision. However he did not need to wander for too long in his search as questionable noises of moaning, crying and dull thudding against the wall reached his ears. It was painfully loud in such a quiet night. Quickening his pace, he turned around a corner and headed towards the direction of the noise and found his target, and he was... smacking his forehead into the wall?
"Stop it!" Lazarus cried as he reached out with a fire-free hand and grabbed the Frei's arm, pulling him away from the wall. "What are you doing?" As a result from the sudden yank, the other Raevan's hood slipped back a little, revealing his face to Lazarus for the first time. There was a small bruise formed on his forehead where he repeatedly smacked onto the hard brick wall, but Lazarus was glad to see that it had not 'break' like his burn wound. However, he did not recognize this Frei, is he a new born?
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Posted: Mon Feb 08, 2010 9:38 am
With each passing second, his banging had grown harder, his cries rose louder! The bruise upon his temple had been somewhat softened by the cushioning of his hair, but nonetheless, it was dark and angry. Who could say how far he might have eventually gone if not interrupted by the sigel's interference, pulling him away. He felt the draft upon his ears as his hood slipped back, revealing unashamedly his naked face. Wounded and threatening. While he was no longer banging himself into brain-damage, this didn't quite mean it was the end of his outright bizarre and nonsensical applications. Slowly, before God and everyone, he began to cup both hands around his ears... From the look of his face, it didn't seem to be to keep sound out, but to keep something inside his head. He began to sway limply, building momentum, rocking in mid-air. His nostrils flared, his mouth twitched sickly... A sound rumbled from deep within his chest, rising slowly and lazily like smoke-rings from a parson's mouth. At first it seemed innocuous, almost pitiful, but with time, with the rocking and the trembling, it too escalated into a gruffness, a hateful, destructive noise groaning through his nose.
This was the sound of the ages, for with destruction, could come creation. A purposeful grinding and humming that ate away at his sense of reason, that devoured his memories and immediate thoughts before they could even fully form. When things got too difficult to manage? What better way to alleviate, than to shred his memory and start anew with a fresh mind?* Shutting his eyes, he began to destroy the last of his cognition... And when his eyes would open once more, jet-black lashes ascending from the height of his cheekbones as if a velvety curtain in a theatre giving way to a production, he would be clean, and new.
He blinked a few times. His hands fell from his ears. He looked around with evident confusion, suddenly filled with any number of questions... Where was he just now? Why did his head hurt? Where had Genie gone? Why were the flies being so quiet? And what was that unsightly red blemish on his arm? ...It hurt as well... He didn't like this. He didn't like it at all... He was outside of his comfort zone in a black, dark world.
It was then that he became aware of the stranger in his midst. His tall, red brother, with the fearsomely fiery eyes. His head tilted, his jaw hung. A smile then appeared. Basil almost looked upon him, as if only now seeing him for the first time. He administered his...usual means of appearing friendly. A grin that was unnecessarily large and enthusiastic.
"Hello." He offered softly, his hands rubbing together idly, with the left creeping upwards to caress his burn. It then dawned on him-- where was his hood? He pawed at his head a bit as if expecting it to somehow be there despite his not feeling it's usual weight. This concerned him. He looked around for it in the alley, clearly panicked by the notion of having lost it, when lo' and behold, he caught a glimpse of it in his peripherals. Was it hiding behind his head? Playing a game? Whatever it was, it was most certainly not funny! He wanted to corner it, now spinning in a circle in place to try and catch it, though doing so unsuccessfully... Perhaps... it hadn't occurred to him to just reach behind there to get it...
*Just as a side note, because Banter hasn't burst onto the scene yet, defragging his head sort of takes the place of switching for now.
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Wed Feb 10, 2010 6:43 am
The grip on the Frei's arm was released when he clasped both his hands to his ears and started to sway. Lazarus just stayed still as he watched the other Raevan's weird otherworldly behavior with a look of disbelief. What the hell? When the Frei started to emit weird groaning and humming noises the Sigel backed away a little, a little wary of the entire situation. Is he going to blow up or something? Lazarus stared warily at the Frei's sharp glass-like wings as he backed away from it's direction.
Then all of a sudden, it stopped. The Frei stilled, dropping his hands and looking somewhat confused. When the hooded Frei set eyes on him again, he smiled. And that confused Lazarus even more. At first he was all creepy like a stalker, then he was predatory, after that Lazarus found him banging his head to the wall, followed by the weird swaying and humming. Lazarus had seen a lot of weird Raevans in all shapes and sizes during his days in the laboratory, but this one is beyond what he would normally expect. This Raevan is a lunatic!
Nevetheless, he is a Raevan and one of his kin. Despite the younger Frei's odd behavior, the older Sigel still felt a sense of responsibility to somehow get the Frei back to his guardian.
Lazarus reached out a hand and grabbed onto the Frei's arm as he turned around on spot, this time much gentler than before, just strong enough to keep him still. He noticed that his hood had fell back, and suspected that was the reason why he was chasing after it like a dog chasing after it's own tail. This Frei isn't very smart as well. Extinguishing the flame in his other hand, he took the edge of the hood with his fingers and pulled it back onto the Frei's head. "There you go." He said as he released his grip, the flame in his palm returned with a flick of his fingers, the gentle light aided his sight in the dark and still alley. "Can you tell me what is your name?" If he knew that information, then maybe they could make a trip back to the Lab and look up his guardian's address. Then he could send the Frei home.
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Posted: Thu Feb 11, 2010 11:51 pm
All was well again once his hood was safely returned to it's default position. The newcomer had seemed to correct it so easily! Already was he in admiration of him for seemingly doing the impossible. Or if nothing else, the highly improbable. He took great pleasure in his usual tugging and fidgeting with the edges. It felt familiar. It quelled an inner desire, more, a compulsion that he could not describe. It was then, that the Tall Red One began to speak to him. The time for his words to coherently reach the Cobra's speech center was delayed. He caught the word 'name' before it could completely drift past him into wispy white noise. The creature was asking his name. Trying to identify him for his own purposes.
Once again, this required some intense thought. It wasn't as if he sat around the house day and night repeating a mantra of, "My name is Basil. Basil is what I'm called." Repetition was the key to having anything stick, and as he lived in close-knit quarters -wherein the only reason he would need to be called for by name, is if he were far away- it was an asset that eluded him. Genevieve had considered making the boy wear a name-tag when he went out... As it seemed every other weekend he was going off on some hare-brained misadventure.
He levitated there, otherwise stock-still. He scratched his head, rather flummoxed by the question; perhaps it would need repeating. Suddenly his scalp felt quite itchy. In his simple, unintelligent verbose, he lended in reply, "I...don't know... I thought I did, but... I don't."
This could take a while... Hopefully it might come to him later.
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Thu Feb 18, 2010 12:17 am
Lazarus waited patiently for the Frei to answer, apparently he was a bit slow too. However, he did not get the answer he desired as the Frei spoke for the first time that night. A look of disbelief shown clearly on the Sigel's face then, his lips stretched into a crooked smile but his brows were furrowed, and his eyes wide. He did not know how to respond to this strange Raevan, and he don't know what to do with him.
All was quiet for a moment as Lazarus considered his options, he could leave the Frei here, maybe he will find his way home eventually. Then again, he don't even remember his name, what were the chances of him knowing how to get home? A small part of him wanted to just leave the whacko here, but the majority thought he should be responsible and help. Perhaps bringing him back to the Lab would help, Kyou should have his information and address, then maybe they could send him back home first thing in the morning since it was already so late. By the time they got back to the Lab it would almost be midnight.
Sighing in defeat, he grabbed the Frei's unhurt and still-covered wrist. "Come with me." He just said simply as he turned around and started to go back the way he came, using the fire in hand still to guide him in the darkness. "I'll take you back to the Lab, and we'll figure out how to get you home." He spoke in a slower pace as he turned around after a corner, hoping that the Frei could comprehend what he was doing or saying.
In a couple of minutes they were on the street again where they met. The fire on his palm extinguished as street lights poured over his view again, lighting up a wider area. The fire on the Frei's arm warmer had went out as well, now the useless piece of cloth just laid wasted on the street, burnt beyond recognition. Lazarus made a mental note to buy him some new ones later, since he was the one who burnt it in the first place.
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Posted: Sun Feb 21, 2010 5:15 pm
As the Red One carefully considered his options, Basil began leap-frogging from one activity to another. His attention was more often than not a bit harder to retain any time his mind wiped itself clean. One moment he was stroking his chin in thought, thrust in a delicate conundrum over the loss of his name, and the stroking turned to the pinching of his skin. The pinching turned to rubbing the entirety of his cheek, and the rubbing led to him rubbing the side of his face against the gritty surface of the brick wall; Much like a snake attempting desperately to remove itself of it's old and itchy skin.
It was then he felt his wrist grabbed... Basil did not like to be surprised. While it was not always necessary to handle the boy with kid-gloves, one should always mind not to move too quickly by him. A faint puff of a hiss erupted at the contact, but was immediately quelled into his usual empty-headed gaze, struggling to examine the unseen world. The Sigel was apparently intending to take him home. Or at least, that was all he heard. Perhaps unlike him, the Red One knew the way! What a stroke of serendipity!
Exiting out onto the street and basking in the haunting glow of fluorescent street-lights, Basil could not help but be distracted by the sight of his soiled warmer layed to ruin on the pavement... Wrecked, singed, and solitary. He was almost tempted to go back for it, momentarily forgetting the Other's grip upon his arm, resulting in a slight tug of resistance. Oh well... At least he still had one warmer to work with... As they forayed into a cold, industrial world on the search for answers and shelter, Basil's curious behavior did not cease. In the dampness and dark, it was clear he was muttering to himself... Some of it was pure jibberish, a language only sensible in his own little bubble, wafting in and out of known word. Mumbling about space-crafts and spoons... The sound a thousand toaster ovens would make careening off a cliff-face. Polka-dotted paisleys on sundresses. What made it even more distracting what the repeated gesture of rubbing his forehead under sable locks. As if soothing a savage beast within his noggin. This was what led to his acknowledging the wound upon his arm... for the third time. Holding it up to his senior, he answered in a small, strangled voice, "What is on my arm?"
He tried to prod the angry flesh. He discovered, yet again, that it was painful.
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Fri Feb 26, 2010 8:31 am
Lazarus's grip on the young Frei did not loosen, much like a parent holding their naughty kid's hand. Although the Frei's mentality seemed flawed, but his physical ability was not. The Sigel recalled the times when he crept up to him ever so quietly, and retreated quickly. There was no doubt that the hooded Frei could move swiftly, and Lazarus is not letting him a chance to run away from him again for whatever reason.
Dragging the Frei along, Lazarus started getting back on track in the direction of the bus stop, praying quietly that they didn't miss the last bus back to Gambino Island due to their little... encounter. It doesn't help that he doesn't carry a watch and had no idea what time it is now. Thankfully they did not, as Lazarus approached the brightly lighted bus station and saw that there were still a couple of people waiting there. The digital clock ticked at exactly 10.55pm, a bus will arrive in another 5 minutes, not too long thankfully.
They stopped at the edge of the bus station, and it was here that the Frei inquired about the markings on his arm. "Uhm..." Lazarus pondered on how to tell him. "I uh... accidentally hurt you, with this." Raising his hand in front of the Frei, a small flicker of flame appeared on Lazarus's palm before he snuffed it out quickly, trying to not draw unwanted attention from the people nearby. "I'm sorry I burnt your arm warmer, I will buy you one next time." He apologized, his tone sincere. However, he still had no idea why the burn wound cracked into a shattered glass pattern like that.
It was then that he realized, although the Frei forgot his name, he didn't. The Sigel don't remember introducing himself to the hooded Frei. "My name is Lazarus." He pronounced his words out carefully.
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Posted: Thu Mar 04, 2010 9:03 pm
The Red One was the cause? That would have been his last guess in the known world! Normally such incidents were the cause of his own blunders, let alone the blunders of other people. But thankfully for Lazarus, Basil was so much a simpleton that he wouldn't ever dream of holding this transgression against him, only smiling in reply to his confession in a way that was as disarming as beguiling. Still... he would have very much liked to touch whatever had been flickering and glimmering so gloriously in the center of his palm a moment ago. It was so very lovely.
Ouch...
His arm still stung quite unmercifully... Frankly it was both irritating, and painful, as he could not resist the urge to pick and prod at the surrounding skin. He might need to get it under some cold water, or if nothing else have it bandaged. Perhaps so much of his attention was funneled upon it, not just for his unfamiliarity with physical pain, but the similarities the burning had to the sensation felt within his head at all hours. Always did his head feel sweltering, and burning, and swollen. It didn't hurt quite the same way his arm did, but it remained as uncomfortable. Lately, it seemed to only be getting worse... And now that the Red One had admitted to inflicting this condition upon him, the thought could not help but cross Basil's eclectic and ponderous mind that perhaps he would be a reliable source to consult in regards to this phenomenon.
But before he could begin to ask, the train of thought was completely derailed for a slightly overdue introduction, "Oh, I'm Basil. Fft..." He nodded quaintly in response, notably pressing two fingers to the other's collarbone in a quick tap. A gesture he had no doubt inherited from his encounter with a... similarly scaled Frei. Strange enough was how fluidly he answered, as if he had known his title the entire time and was simply waiting for the correct question to initiate it. Ever the odd one...
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Tue Mar 23, 2010 9:58 am
The Sigel raised an eyebrow in disbelief when the Frei announced his name ever so casually after he introduced himself. A couple moments ago he don't even remember his name after pondering for a while. He was indeed something special. "Basil eh?" Lazarus repeated his name once, deciding against asking him why he remembered his name now and not earlier. He had a gut feeling that he would just confused the already confusing Frei.
Knowing the Frei's name finally was indeed a welcoming event, the act of tapping his collarbone however, was not. He did not know where Basil picked up this habit. God knows where all the Freis pick up all sorts of unusual habits. But the Sigel always had something against touchy male, and this was no different. Just a little bit, he floated a little further away, perhaps an inch or two after the tap, just to put some distance between them. His finger rubbed against the spot where Basil tapped, as if trying to rub whatever dirt that was left there off.
He did however, also noticed that Basil's hands were indeed dirty, probably from rummaging through people's garbage earlier. Lazarus was so mind boggled by this odd Frei that he was not reminded nor noticed the stench coming from the young Raevan up until now. When they got back to the Lab, he would need to make Basil take a shower before entering his room. Lazarus should probably treat that wound of his as well on his arm. With a quick inspection of his surrounding, he realized that the stench and their unique physique had attracted a few people's attention at the station. Although he was glad that people just stared and did not come to bother them... yet anyway, as he noticed a young lady with a weird glint in her eyes.
Thankfully the bus they were waiting for arrived then. "This is our bus. Let's go." He said curtly, urging the Frei to follow him as he went into the line to get on the bus.
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Posted: Sat Apr 03, 2010 10:30 pm
Basil wrung his hands somewhat in response to the Sigel putting a little distance between them, as if trying to reel in the negative space. It seemed he did not take well to being greeted... To this, Basil's head tilted somewhat in misunderstanding. What was so offensive about such a pedestrian act? Thankfully he didn't pay much mind to mild acts of rudeness and continued with whatever vacuous daydream that was smoldering in his head at present.
As they stood shoulder-to-shoulder at the bus-spot 'neath a sickly yellow street-lamp; the square full of rust and decay as huddled bodies neared that righteous sign signalling the vehicle's impending approach, Basil became alarmed as he sensed vibration from the pavement... Something very large was creeping up the hill in their direction. To better make better sense of his surroundings in this unforgiving concrete jungle, Basil steadily crouched upon the ground in what was the legless equivalent of being upon one's hands and knees. His palms lay flat against the road, each tremor shivering through his extremities and chattering his teeth. He gently lay the side of his head to the ground, the cement cold and roughly hewn against the tender shell of his ear. It was coming closer, and closer... Why were all these other people not alarmed? They should be alarmed! But there they stood like frozen sausages in a meat aisle, unconcerned and appearing to be legitimately bored. If these were the jungles of Nairobi, these silly twits would be the first to go! Heads began to turn as two large, blinding beacons appeared from over-top of the hill and careened towards the benches. The white lights were marked by several various other lights that paled in comparison; some red, some yellow. Like the weak cinders of a fireball. To Basil, they were eyes, manifesting from out of the pitch-black night, and as much as he did not want to stick around to watch the possessor of those eyes devour these simple-minded people, he was compelled at the moment not to run, but to face his foe.
It was encased in a dull metal housing-- it faintly resembled a car in smell and mechanics, but it was simply too big to be of anything less than an immediate threat to the startled cobra. Whether it was due to his ignorance and youth, or to his violent hallucinations, the bus got Basil's dander up, and put him so on edge his entire body became rigid with both fear, and anticipation. It slowly began to come to a stop. It squealed as it did so. It sounded like a challenge. Before he could be halted the young Frei made a sharp bee-line for the front left tire, gnawing upon it and trying desperately to bury his predator's teeth within it's grooved, rubbery surface but finding it to be quite in vain. The beast didn't even flinch!
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Tue Apr 06, 2010 6:32 am
As Lazarus stared intently at the clock at the bus stop and anxiously waited for the bus's arrival from the far distance, his did not notice Basil's odd movements. It was only when the bus stopped, and he turned around to urge the Frei to follow him; it was that moment when the words left his mouth that his voice died in his throat.
Was he imagining things? Or did this nutjob just attacked the bus's front tire?
The Sigel's eyes were wide, his brain stopped functioning for a few seconds, not being able to comprehend the illogical act that the Frei was doing. He only snapped back to his senses when he heard a girl in the line squealed, noticing Basil's assault on the tire. Swiftly his eyes darted to the direction of the squeal, noticing the girl's horrified expression. He also noticed that the crowd in the line that was getting onto the bus gathering behind him, whispering and making all sorts of weird disgusted noises.
It was difficult to see under the dim lights, but a shade of red had crept onto Lazarus's face, which just made it seem darker than before. But he knew he had to do something! Darting swiftly towards Basil, he quickly pulled at his shoulders, trying to pry the stupid Frei from the bus's front tire. "Basil! Stop it, STOP IT!!" He shouted angrily, drawing more attention to him from the crowd now. Then he noticed the Frei had his teeth sunken into the tough rubbery surface. Grumbling something incoherent under his breath, he slipped two fingers into Basil's mouth, hooking onto his jaw as he pulled the Frei's teeth out of the tire. With his teeth out, Lazarus pulled Basil away roughly with all his strength, not caring if he hurt him or not.
"Hey are you guys going to get on or not?" The bus driver shouted out through the opened bus doors. Annoyance clear in his voice.
"Yes, yes!" Half dragging the Frei, Lazarus got up the bus immediately, not bothering if he was cutting queues or not. With some difficulty he paid the fare for two to Gambino, keeping a firmer, stronger grip on Basil's arm. Then he dragged the Frei to the back of the bus and pushed him to the window seat as he settled down beside him. "No more biting, attacking or clawing! Just stay put!" He warned the Frei with a stern voice, clearly aggravated by the commotion and embarrassment that Basil caused.
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