Welcome to Gaia! ::

((Okay, I think I'm healthy enough and caught up enough in life to do this again. I'm so sorry about this. I had such a nice following, and then I slipped. I'll PM each of you to see if you're still interested. Sorry again!))

Tenma
The train sped through the countryside, a beautiful view laid out before her. She smiled lightly thinking about the gentle fields of green. She could breathe easy for the first time in a long time it seemed, and the lack of people made it more plausible that nothing strange would happen.

But such facades of false hope were short lived as the train became dark. The windows fogged, and she couldn't see where they were. The train sped up, and she was thrown into the seat opposite her as it shook left and right. If they turned, the train would almost certainly tip.

Then she saw the gypsy sitting across the aisle. "Have you thought about it child? You've not much time left. That thing is your father. Your uncle was not himself when you were conceived. Your father hated him for it, but your poor uncle. He was such a loving man. He left because your father sent the police after him. It was the thing living in him that picked Venice, though, because of that which is under the city." The tentacle ripped out of her side again, thrashing at the gypsy. The gypsy crouched and started fighting.

"Don't you get it, yet, Tenma? You need to make a decision." She touched the tentacle and it recoiled. Tenma looked down and saw the gray spreading over her entire stomach. Several other tentacles thrashed out, leaving multiple holes. It felt as if Tenma's stomach was being pumped out of her, as she collapsed and began crying. She watched the gypsy in the small area duck and weave between the tentacles. "Child, make up your mind. I can't keep this up." Every time she touched one, it recoiled, and a scream came from it. Ice covered the tentacles where she hit.

Ruslan
He struggled across the floor. He watched others as they were taken down by the thing flailing across the ballroom. Tentacles lashed at the walls in front and behind him. The floor under his feet collapsed, and he grasped for the wall, hanging on and pulling himself over to solid ground, or what was considered solid for Venice. He was nearly clear when he felt a cold, thick object wrap around his leg. There was a moment of panic as he attempted to accept that he was to find out where all of the others had gone.

The tentacle turned him over, dragging him across the floor. Then he saw the blond from before. She knelt down and touched the tentacle, and he watched as her touch severed it. The piece holding him let go and began flopping about, while the other one violently slammed against the floor. The blond giggled, dodging it easily, splattered in the black blood spewing forth from it. He felt two pairs of hands grab him, and the red head and brunette dragged him out of the building. Ruslan passed out.

He awoke to see the three women hovering over him. He was in a small room, though it was quite lavish in the decorations. Each of them had on a night gown of silk, and he wore a male pair of silk pajamas. The blond was directly over him, changing his bandages and a wet cloth on his forehead. "His infection is bad, girls. I hope he wakes up."

"If he doesn't," he heard the brunette, "then he just doesn't get a choice in the matter. We can save him.

"Ah, he's opening his eyes. Hey there, young one. You're the smart one." She smiled a little, a porcelain face with blood red lips. It was a strange feeling to be in her presence. Her blue eyes captured him so there was really nothing on his mind but her eyes, her lips moving, and the comfortable words escaping them. "Ruslan, I do believe? We found your ID, so we are guessing. But assuming, you're Ruslan." She rubbed his leg and made him wince from the pain. "I can't let you get entirely enthralled with me, love. Remember your mortality." She leaned in and whispered, "I could take it away. I could remove that pain and remove the fear of death with a simple kiss. It's a pleasurable kiss, I swear it." She bit his ear, drawing some blood. "We could teach you, and while you learn, you're our plaything. But when you have learned enough, you'll be free. What's a decade when eternity is at your finger tips?"

Claire E. Norman

There was a lot of information to digest that Agent Paul had given and Claire found herself unable to answer his proposal right away. Instead, her eyes darted across the man examining him in detail for the first time. Everything his body language was portraying told her that he was telling the truth. He wasn’t lying, he wasn’t pulling her leg, he honest be damned was telling the truth. She again glanced over the black-haired American and placed him to be in his mid thirties. She didn’t know why, but she found herself staring at him, as though she had just discovered a long lost friend in a foreign place.

And then the prospect of the job intrigued her. She had nothing at home to go back to. “You…sorry, you’re company would offer me a position? What exactly does this MOSE project need a therapist for?” She shook her head and stood up with grace. She was tried of sitting around being confused. “Alright, show me what it is you want to show me. But please explain to me on the way what an American has interest in the affairs of a sinking Venice and how you came to be a part of this…MOSE project.”

(Uh oh ~ Why are we slipping down the page again sad ))

((Bad Jester. No spreading cooties.))

((Haha. You'll come across some of the most childish comments if you read what I have to say. ^^))

((NOOOOOO... I would cry. He still hasn't sent me the "Jester" PM for me to get started. /cry))

((Um...I cometh in pieces...wait))