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 Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 11:46 am
He inclined his head cheerily at Aileen’s words.
“Aye, that we are, miss. I myself never lied to you though.”
Though I never told you the whole truth, either.
He grinned and raised an eyebrow in return at the smile he received. Oh ho, so the little lady wanted to play. Well, he was game all the time. Nevermind the fact that his 'games' usually ended much faster than the ladies would want it to be.
Maa, but one wins some, and loses some. Can’t have it all. Just like one can’t have a normal life, when born with a power none like other.
“...And I don’t doubt there are many, many things you would not understand either, even if either of us bothered to explain.”
It wasn’t in Marc’s defense; he wouldn’t go defending Marc for Marc’s sake any day of the week, as it would probably result in an unnecessary showdown (particularly when the werewolf was in a mood like this). He just didn’t revel in having the years of blood shed put down so shallowly. They knew far more than any normal person would.
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Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 12:05 pm
"Having fun?" The voice that spoke from the shadows was a light, amused drawl. You could almost picture the grin that was obviously stretched across the lips. A flare of fire illuminated the shadows, highlighting a bemused face for a moment, the eyes that watched Sayn's antics bright yellow like the heart of the flame that came from fingers, not a match.
Albion stepped forward, taking a drag from his cigarette and then gestured with it, blowing a cloud of smoke across the room. "Taking out some aggressions on the hired help, now, Saynie?" He laughed, expecting a glare. His boss hated that nickname, but for some reason he hadn't killed Alby for it yet. It was probably just a matter of time, though. Not that the half-incubus cared much. He liked to live on the edge.
"C'mon," he sighed, nudging his head toward the door. "Lets go meet up with the others. There's plenty of time for this later."
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Flynn MacCumhaill Captain
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Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 1:29 pm
((Kalaundrea: I'm going to assume your character is bluffing, because otherwise that last post appeared to involve a change in character knowledge.))
Marc waited for Keima to finish with his characteristic flirting.
"You're wrong," Aileen said, turning to him, "me not knowing was provocation. I wouldn't expect you to understand even if I bothered with explaining."
"... And I don't doubt that there are many, many things you would not understand, either, even if either or us bothered to explain," the elemental pointed out, even before Marc had the chance. Silver-tongued Keima.
"I don't need to be registered. They already determined that."
Like bullshit they did, he thought to himself, but played along anyway. "In that case, you need to come in for debriefing and so we can fill out a civilian incident report, as you were, after all, electrocuted by an elemental.
"As for provocation, very well, maybe in your eyes, simply not knowing what is going on counts for due provocation. Legally, that alone doesn't stand. Of course, if you know nothing about us, you'll be let off, and told enough so that you won't try it again next time. Unless, of course, there's a better reason than just that. In which case, we will work through that while we're not standing arguing in the middle of the street."
He ran his free hand through his hair. "And for the third bloody time, would you either drop the damned gun or just shoot me?"
It was starting to rain: a light, drifting, misty shower, just enough to make everything damp, but not enough to soak you. It sparkled in the lamp-light, like fairy-dust -- perhaps a little ironically.
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Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 3:35 pm
Speaking of faery-dust, the creature such things are attributed to sat glumly in his iron cage, looking desperately for a way out and finding none. He probably couldn't ask anyone for help, since Marc might notice, and he had used too much magic in one day to bend the iron bars without any ill effects on his health, and since he couldn't really teleport, only squeeze through the doors between his world and this one, that was simply not an option. And to make matters worse, he was getting wet. His arm still hurt like the blazes too; wouldn't they have to open the cage in order to prevent his wound from going bad? That is, if these cretins cared enough not to simply let him die in here...
Oh, what the hell. Asking for help was worth a shot, and who knows, it might save his life! Being careful to only appear to the one they called 'fox', he lifted up a pebble and threw it gently at him in order to catch his attention. "Over here, I'm stuck in this cage, please do help me," he whispered, trying to look as pathetic and needy as possible.
freeglitters.com
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Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 4:09 pm
"Don't call me that," the raven-haired male growled, giving Albion a death look. He really hated that name. Although it was almost a game by now -- Alby called him that, he called him a pathetic half-breed, they fought (or flirted, depending on how you looked at it), then eventually he would get the better of the younger one, Alby would go nurse his wounds (sometimes physical) and they'd go on like normal. It was the closest thing to friendship the youth could name -- that that he'd ever call Alby a friend out loud.
He rolled his eyes, waving a hand impatiently. "How many times have I told you not to smoke around me," Sayn growled impatiently, and cast his fully-black orbs down on the trembling woman curled into a fetal position at his feet. A long-suffering sigh slipped from his lips and he nodded. "All right, all right. I'm bored with this anyway," he said and flipped the bowl, dumping the salad onto the poor servant's head. She shrieked bloody murder and clawed at the salad pieces as if they were the most horrifying things ever, flinging them away. He watched for a moment, then laughed uproariously and dropped the bowl in her lap.
"Okay, now let's go," he smirked, walking over to the other male, plucking the cig from his lips and crushed it beneath the heel of his boot, grinning at Albion the whole time. He pushed the door open. "After you?"
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Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 5:13 pm
Alby's smirk widened when Sayn hissed at him to stop calling him by his special little name. He loved these little games they played. He also liked the attention from Sayn, but he didn't admit that to himself.
The half-incubi rolled his eyes when Sayn still tormented the girl, but didn't seem to upset by it. He was used to it, it was just one of Sayn's little quirks. He could appreciate it. Besides, she was just a mortal, and a weak one at that. Alby despised weakness, especially in women. It just made him want to grab them and shake them. Or maybe take a knife to their gut. Either way.
"Hey!" he yelped as the taller male took his cigarette and stubbed it out. He glared at him and huffed, pulling out another and sticking it in his mouth but not lighting it yet. He pulled his long velvet coat around himself a little tighter as he huffed, the black feathered collar contrasting nicely with his white hair. He was wearing his regular tight sleeve-less leather top today with the zippers over the chest, three or four studded belts in black, white and pink, and little leather shorts that pretty much left nothing to the imagination. His high black leather boots gave him a little height, but he was still shorter than Sayn, a fact which often bothered him. Pulling his black cowboy hat down over his eyes, he stomped off through the door, pouting. Sayn was no fun!
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Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 6:54 pm
“Oi oi, I didn’t ‘electrocute’ her. I only gave her the smallest shock possible,” he said defensively, his brows furrowing a bit to mar his smile. Something decided to hit him in the face just then, causing him to look up.
“Ugh... Rain?” Keima groaned, holding one hand up to catch one of the small drops of water in his palm. He looked distastefully at the innocuous raindrop. It wasn’t that he particularly minded water itself - it and its many other forms could prove to be a very good friend in a fight - but that was usually when he was in control of it. He didn’t feel like spending energy recklessly to keep himself dry though. Not right now, when there was a chance of drawing unwelcome guests to the area. No need to have his existence known to people of no use to him.
“s**t... And I had a date tonight too...” he protested, feeling the water start to flatten his hair down. Yes, he knew that with just the right amount of water, a person could look twice as appealing. That didn’t include looking like a rat that just climbed out of the drainpipe though.
He felt a pebble hit his forehead as he was pushing the hair out of his eyes. His eyes trailed to the direction they had come from, narrowing as they did so, only to lock onto a ridiculously large cage that by no means would escape the eyes of ignorant pedestrians. He looked at the being inside it for a moment, scrutinizing to figure out just what category said being would fall under. He looked like a human male, but then again, one could not be sure with only a glance in this line of work.
The dispatch team was fairly slow today.
“Whozzat?” He asked Marc - quite ungracefully, with the cigarette held between his teeth - as he nodded in the direction of the human-sized cage.
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Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 7:10 pm
The rain had cooled Marc's temper somewhat, as if somehow the sensation of cold water misting on his face made him more able to think, more human.
"Yeah, I know, you'd never hurt a lady," Marc agreed. His shrug said that either way, they both knew that HQ would still have to fill Aileen in. That was the rules.
He rolled his eyes as Keima complained about the rain, then narrowed them to amber slits as he looked around to see where the pebble that hit his ex-comrade had come from.
"Wozzat?" the elemental asked, indicating the cage.
"That," Marc grimaced, "is Marduk going overboard again. And the sidhe inside that is the poor, confused creature we got called out for in the first place." He scratched his nose, and took advantage of the damp to push his hair back out of his face once and for all. "For a change, I think he might honestly have no idea what is going on. He goaded Marduk... I've never seen a fae do that before.
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Flynn MacCumhaill Captain
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Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 7:34 pm
Jonathan winced as the gentleman called 'fox' called out to Marc. "He can't see or hear me, though he knows I'm here. Please, draw no more attention to me though the damage may already be done. I implore you, if you can, free me! I am grievously wounded..." All right, so 'grievously' was a bit of a stretch, but the rest of the principles still stood firm.
Ah, too late, too late. He sighed as Marc explained his unfortunate circumstance to the gentleman called 'fox'. Though his primary emotion was despair, he felt a twinge of irritation at Marc brazenly flinging about the term "Fae". Had the man no respect?! Perhaps he simply did not know any better, for there seemed to be a lot of strange ideas about The Good People floating around this place...
freeglitters.com
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Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 7:56 pm
“Ahaha. So Marduk hasn’t changed at all either,” Keima said, deliberately approaching the cage and knocking on the iron bars experimentally as he chewed on the filter of his cigarette.
“Huh. So he really did go all out,” he remarked, peering at the creature inside. He really did look pathetic, enclosed in a cage and getting pelted by the rain. He felt bad for it, in a way, but he felt that emotion as though it was something very far away. He didn’t bat an eyelash even when the sidhe pleaded for help.
“Sorry, I’m not a part of this taskforce anymore,” he said in a low voice, leaning down and smiling at the fae. The expression itself wasn’t harmful, but to be smiling at one in such a predicament probably wasn’t the kindest thing either.
“And I’m not about to go against Marc, not when he probably doesn’t mind dragging me back in.”
He didn’t harbor ill feelings for the sidhe. If anything, he felt sorry for him having to be caught up in a mess as such. Still...
‘You’ll probably be fine. If you were one of Them, they probably wouldn’t be above killing you outright.”
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Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 8:47 pm
"P-please..." As his eyes filled with (crocodile) tears. Jonathan reached very carefully out through the bars. His burned arm still hurt, so he used the other one, keeping the wounded one clutched tight to him. "I... I don't understand. What is a 'task force'? Who are 'Them'?" His abyss-like eyes gazed pleadingly up at the other man, begging him for freedom, for answers, for something.
((Sorry fer shortness. I was gonna wait fer Flynn's post, but I is too tired.))
freeglitters.com
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Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 8:58 pm
"Fae, Myobu," Marc called over. He couldn't hear what the sidhe was saying, but he could imagine it. "If he's complaining about his arm, it's an iron-burn. From a pistol-butt. If that upsets you too much, you can put a silver collar on me for a week, just, please don't try to let him out. Marduk's genuinely concerned about what he might do."
Crap, he thought to himself. Shouldn't have said that.
((Flynn can't move on much, either: I have to wait to see what Kalaundrea does before I can do much more...))
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Flynn MacCumhaill Captain
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Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 9:24 pm
“That,” Keima replied, as he raised his hat a bit on his forehead, “is something that the bureau will tell you when you get there.”
Yes, perhaps he could help out, if he so wished it. He might be a nice guy, and aid a (seemingly) poor, defenseless sidhe escape from the bureau’s jurisdiction (which he assumed would be pretty light).
Too bad he wasn’t a nice guy.
“Let him out? Now, why would I do that, and risk my own neck? And if I put a silver collar on you, what guarantee would I have that you won’t be tracking me down? I don’t think you would have destroyed my files and prints just because I quit,” he grinned at Marc, holding up his two hands in another shrug as though to show the werewolf that he had no such means to letting the sidhe out.
“No, no, Marc-chan. I think I would much rather enjoy my quiet life with the occasional ladies just a tad bit longer.”
He had no intention of rejoining this ongoing war between the bureau and Liberation. Call him materialistic, but he saw no appeal in it for him.
That, and the fact that though he may be dubbed a Stupid Fox, he wasn’t so stupid as to forget what he had lived through, or whom he had had to live for, for almost his whole life.
If it could even be called a life.
Pity those who unknowingly joined the ranks. Godspeed to those wishing for a life within.
“But, in all honesty,” he gave the iron bars a good kick, “a human-sized cage? And what is taking the dispatch team so damn long?”
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Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 10:25 pm
“Humans. They are a plague that infests the planet, draining its resources, making it wither in defeat. They take selfishly with no discord for what they might be destroying; by merely living they annihilate so many other lives yet take no notice of it.
This is why things like the Liberation must exist, to end the hurt and suffering of those who cannot stand up and fight for a world they can safely live in. We are saving this world by our actions; we are the antidote to this plague.”
This are the words that rang threw Aamira Tain’s head as she looked out over the city, words that had been made immortalized by the person who spoke them to her, who had died fighting for the Liberation, and Aamira’s mentor. The Liberation had become her life when she had escaped from an experimental factuality; she had been a victim of the Human’s thirst for knowledge. A young demon taken to be used as a lab rat, it was only logical that she would harbour a hatred for the whole species and naturally find others who felt the same.
Now after only a few years of training, Aamira captured the full potential of her abilities, she waited calmly to make her move, a little bit of chaos here and there in the mean time. Yet that was not her goal at the moment, right then she just wanted to be lost in her thoughts, perched high above the festering humans on a sky scraper, looking down on them as it always should have been. Her silver hair whipped gently around her ghostly face, her features showing not a slightest bit of emotion, glowing eyes focused on the streets below.
Aamira lifted a hand gently to sweep a piece of hair behind an ear then stood silently, with perfect balance she walked along the ledge of the sky scraper, a familiar click of her high stiletto boots drifting through the air. It wasn’t a day for play, she was tired and aggravated for no specific reason, maybe just to be so, and it was common for this particular demon to be doused in a bad mood. So she decided to turn back to one of the many Liberation layers, her misery didn’t like company but it certainly made things more interesting.
Not soon after she had been on a roof in the city she was inside a quiet building, hidden carefully from the outside world. She walked slowly, enjoying the click of her heel against the concrete, smoothing her hands over her low riding leather pants and then up to her corset that bore a more then generous amount of skin. All the black contrasting with her phantom like skin immensely, Aamira was definitely not a modest demon.
She turned the corner into a room, hoping to be greeted with the view of one of the many attractive males of the Liberation but instead was slightly disappointed to see the attitude heavy demon, Nique. The girl slouched in a chair, her feet up on a desk, reading a magazine. Aamira stepped forward and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Nique must you always look like a slob?”
She sighed and walked around the girl to examine her attire, though full of scrutiny, Aamira couldn't help but have a sort of sisterly affection for the younger demon. Yet that could be hidden easily, she acted like a b***h as often as possiable.
“Why are you here by yourself, anyways?”
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Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 10:27 pm
“But, in all honesty,” Keima gave the iron bars a good kick, “a human-sized cage? And what is taking the dispatch team so damn long?”
Just as he spoke, a black, short-trailer semi truck made it's way down the street toward the waiting group. It rolled past them, stopping in the middle of the street just yards beyond where Keima stood next to the iron cage and it's sidhe capitve, brakes squealing on the wet tires. The back end lowered to the ground, splashing as it hit the puddles forming on the empty street. And standing in in the open trailer was a tall figure in jeans and leather, his short, brown hair swept stylishly to the side and a smirk on his face that showed his straight white teeth.
Dominic looked down on the five beings standing in the rain, "I heard someone needed a ride."
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