|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Wed Jul 14, 2010 6:40 pm
Valeriu was relieved to find that the currency was the same; it meant they were more than secure for the time being, even if he didn't have any idea of the possible price inflation. He'd emptied the family's entire savings into a very large bag, which now sat rather comfortably next to Tezcatlipoca's throne.
You're supposed to give jewels and gold to a god, the man grumbled in the back of his mind, not paper.
Valeriu almost started at that - his god had been so silent for the past few months that he'd wondered if the man didn't even look through his mind anymore.
V'here have you been?
Talking with Mixcoatl.
Valeriu flinched, shoulders jerking minutely.
Do you want to-
No, he interrupted, vehemently. I don't v'ant to know.
He didn't want to know about Tepin - didn't want to know why she wasn't on the boat, anxious as it would have made him. Didn't want to know a thing; because then at least he could still hope.
Mentally closing the door shut on that particular conversation, he idly scanned the rest of the herd. He could see the gigantic group of Carnegies following up at the back - there was easily twenty, thirty, forty people there, and the tightly knit family unit was busy planning and bantering amongst themselves with Seamus and Murphy flanking a rather imposing looking older fellow leading the conversation, who Valeriu supposed could only be their grandfather. Murphy caught his eye, grinned and waved; Valeriu nodded back to him.
The girl in his arms squirmed again, piping up once more, although with a far quieter tone.
"Varu, I wanna go home." He could tell she was already thoroughly fed up with traveling, and groups.
"Not too much longer, puică," he murmured, though it did little to reassure the girl. He glanced over at Quinn, before casually shifting over to his side.
"You do look like you need coffee. Did you sleep at all on the ride here?"
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jul 14, 2010 7:16 pm
There were a flurry of faces and names in the past few minutes (more faces then names, since not everyone seemed willing to give the latter), and already Ashlyn was making nicknames to keep track. There was Cat-Girl, Cat-Boy and his 'sister', Vegas Dancer, Four-Arms, Persephone and Hades (she knew better than to forget the name of gods) and OVER 9000 for the boy with the tomahawk who seemed to make her battle instinct do backflips. According to Vegas Dancer, it would seem that she, too, had a nickname, which apparently was Girl-with-a-sword. It was a blunt name, she supposed, but it was to the point, and more importantly it meant that she could remove her most defining feature if she so chose it. That could be useful in the future.
And then there came someone who didn't seem to have any strange features except for a little special treatment in the hair and eyes department, which gave Ashlyn reason to pause. She gave Kyle a quick sweep with her eyes, then grabbed his hand, shaking it firmly. "Yeah, it's Ashlyn, and...as far as I know, I'm the only one." It was only then that the girl realized the sheer magnitude of her statement: all of these people had played the Game, for years maybe, when she'd been sitting stagnant in Central, doing nothing more significant than Central. The thought itself was daunting, but again, she refused to let it show.
This boy seems nice enough...talk to him, Brigid encouraged, He's at the same level as you, see if you can try and sway his thoughts.
Ashlyn nearly blanched. What?--Why??? I just met him!
All the better to get an unbiased opinion.
Ashlyn shook her head, then looked back at the entourage following her. "Were there really this many Players in Southern?" she asked him, trying to get a rough count. Brigid was not one to be ignored, however, and so while her godling was trying to tally up heads, she slowly unlocked her charms, determined to see if her newly-made prophet could bring in the boys or not. She was, after all, a fertility goddess, and she had a reputation to uphold.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jul 14, 2010 9:16 pm
"No," Quinn mumbled in response to Vale, "I couldn't sleep. It was a boat. Not exactly luxury comfort." He moved away from Vale. He didn't want to talk about himself. He shifted over to Faylen and his sister.
"Who is this?" He questioned, smiling at the girl. "I would say that I see a family resemblance, except that she doesn't have scales. You look more like you're related to me." He laughed.
"I'm sorry I didn't notice you on the boat. I'm Quinn." He messed up Faylen's hair, for the nine hundredth time. "I'm practically his big brother."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jul 14, 2010 9:37 pm
"Honestly, who could sleep in the underworld?" Writ piped up, his ears were picking up three to four different conversations at once, and he was feeling left out of all of them. Ashlyn was talking to Kayla Kyle, Quinn was with Faylen, Vale and his sister were in their own little microcosm... This left Writ talking to his own family. Though he was out of ideas on what to talk about with them, a nuke to their home city and a ride through the underworld wasn't exactly an enjoyable experience.
Writ sighed, and sang to himself, "Ninety nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety nine bottles of beer..."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jul 14, 2010 9:49 pm
Having her question settled, Padma moved farther back into the crowd, seeking out someone she knew. She saw Writ, though he looked a little different from when she had met him, and headed towards him, his choice in songs making her cringe a bit.
"Bored much?" she asked, interrupting his song. She didn't think he'd mind much, but she could be wrong, and she was more than prepared to vanish if he didn't want the interruption.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jul 14, 2010 10:21 pm
Valeriu's eyes narrowed at Quinn's back at the other Godling's sudden cold shoulder, brow drawing down in irritation and puzzlement. The boat ride was silent between them - and now, here, Quinn was ignoring and avoiding him every time he tried to start a conversation.
You aren't the only one suffering! he wanted to snap, but bit his tongue.
Instead, he bristled, tail twitching and lashing behind him, and sharply turned away from Quinn's form and left to his own thoughts.
If Quinn wanted to go it alone, fine. It wasn't the first time Valeriu had been dropped.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jul 14, 2010 10:23 pm
Faylen seemed to blink a bit, looking up at the two. He swiveled his head to face Quinn first. "O-oh! Zhis is Elissa. She is my big sister." he said, smiling weakly. He couldn't help but smile around her. "Elissa, zhis is Mr. Q'vinn. He is a very nice man. He has been very helpful to me."
Everything that had happened within this last span had been...strange. Terribly strange and oh-so-heavy for her too. But, Elissa had decided, she had to be strong for her brother. She was terribly worried about the young boy. She'd never seen him like this before... Scared she had seen. That baleful sorrow was all too familiar as well. But this twitchy neurotic nature was new and rather unsettling. Her lips were pursed to a thin line as she watched over him, hand resting lightly on his shoulder (both for her comfort, on some level, as well as the boy's).
She turned her head at the sound of someone talking to her, though, lips softening to a polite smile. Oh it was...that strange, colorful man. She had met him once, so long ago when she first went looking for her young brother.
The poor girl Quinn was addressing looked hardly older than teenaged- maybe 16 or 17 at best- and had the same pale and hollow look that most of the refugees had. But still she managed a polite curve of the lips and a nod for the colorful godling once she was introduced. "It is good to meet you again. Faylen speaks vell of you often." she said, giving her brother a soft pat on the shoulder. As before, her accent sounded much more refined and much less awkward than her kid brother's- she actually seemed more capable of pronouncing her 'th' sounds- she owed that to more time to practice, though.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jul 15, 2010 1:45 am
This was nice and all, but Rafael was in a less than sociable mood after getting off of the boat. He had gone from bone tired to absolutely exhausted, and now he was being made to walk alongside strangers and their families while the local of the area was being harangued with questions no more important than ice cream and pizza. Seriously?
In his current state, Tlaloc's prophet did not need to do anything to look menacing. Still, he scowled deeply as he weaved through the crowd of godlings and mortals, using a hand to nudge them aside when he needed to. Three dark-skinned children scuttled after him in a line like ducklings after their parent, clinging to one another's hands in a chain while the one directly behind Rafael had the tail of his shirt. Once he got up to where Ashlyn was, he lingered only a moment before clearing his throat, interrupting the accented introductions of Faylen and his sister.
"Tell us about the Suits." He demanded shortly. His eyes glanced only briefly down to her sword, noting it. Rafael had been told little about the Blacksuits, their motives or their purpose aside from eradicating Players from the field. But he knew they were responsible for the destruction of Southern, and that was all that mattered. Where he hadn't paid attention to them before, they definitely were his enemy now. She had mentioned them earlier, so they must be here. He wanted to know what he'd be up against.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jul 15, 2010 8:10 am
"Well, I'd only run into a few of the Players, but..." Kyle replied, turning to join Ashlyn in looking over the throng of refugees. For the number of people there, there were relatively few who carried the marks of a god. "there were a lot of us. I don't think everyone made it to the boats."
So, Ashlyn was the only Player who started out in Central, which meant you could probably find Players elsewhere, too. So why had Southern been so inundated with them? Kyle thought glumly that there was little to no chance to find out now. Sh- He certainly wasn't going to see if the ride through the Underworld could be arranged as a round-trip, and considering what was left of Southern. He turned to look again at Central, but something about Ashlyn caught his eye.
You know, if you looked past the flaming hair, and the gimundous sword, she really was very pretty, Kyle admired. And wasn't she brave for guiding what was admittedly the most freak-show worthy assortment of people into Central? And woah, what is going on here?
Kyle snapped his gaze away from Ashlyn, and tried to clear his head. Where exactly had his thoughts been trying to go? He'd been a boy now for a couple of months, but still.
He was abruptly saved from having to examine his reaction by an angry blue man who stormed up to Ashlyn and asked about the Suits. Glad to have something else to focus on, Kyle did his best to look interested in the question, and not to stare at Ashlyn.
"That's actually a pretty good question, there. You've got guys who walk around in nothing but black suits, right? They probably had more to due with... what happened to Southern than any power plant."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jul 15, 2010 11:58 am
As much as Ashlyn enjoyed her present company, the cold tone presented to her by the blue man presented a fiery response, her eyes narrowing as she gave him a quick once-over. She could feel his power, yes, but it wasn't nearly so threatening as the others, and with it instilled a cocky self assurance, the knowledge that she could take him if she needed to. In fact, if Kyle himself hadn't seconded the question, Ashlyn probably would have taught Mr. Blue a little something they had in Central called manners, but as the calling for blood ebbed away from her consciousness, she merely regarded Rafael with an indignant look.
"Yeah, we've got Suits in about every district of Central. All they do is keep the peace, they don't ever bother anyone unless you do something to piss 'em off." The notion gave Ashlyn reason to grin, glancing back at the blue man with a look that was hardly favorable. "What happened, did you look at one of them the wrong way back in Southern? It makes sense: they don't really take kindly to gene modders, and they like assholes even less." There was a daring look in her eyes, something meant to test the boy's patience. Maybe, if she was lucky, there would be blood after all.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jul 15, 2010 3:33 pm
Marcus had been hanging in the back. Up to this point, he had been content to let the others ask the questions - especially if they were valid ones like the currency. His question now was if the blacksuits were watching Southern-printed currency, but that was a question for bankers, not a lone godling. He would have to ask some discrete questions at a later date - he wasn't ready to announce to the world that a fair amount of Southern-based money was floating around.
Hearing Ashlyn's response to Rafael, Marcus grew concerned. It raised too many red flags for him to remain silent. Stepping forward in the group a little to announce his presence, Marcus queried, "Don't mind if I butt in, but are you saying there are few gene modders here? They provide far too much cover for us for us not to have them."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jul 15, 2010 4:23 pm
Rafael's reaction was probably less than climatic. His lip curled, thoughtlessly showing a bit more fang, and his brows hitched in an almost sympathetic way. It was a sneer, an atypical one, but a sneer nonetheless. "You're funny." He deadpanned, and continued to give the impression he was disappointed, but not particularly surprised. He certainly didn't seem apologetic for his attitude, either. Fatigue could do a lot to reason.
As another in the crowd spoke up, he turned his head slightly, acknowledging the indigo godling's girth. The question was a suitable one, so he made no objection to the 'butting in' (he never cared for that English term) and shifted aside somewhat. However, he did not disappear. He had more questions, and he did want to hear the answer to the latest one. Gene modders had accounted largely for his survival over the last week. It was one thing to simply be a latino-looking boy with tattoos, a whole other thing to be completely blue with fangs.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jul 15, 2010 6:29 pm
There was something inherently infuriating about getting a calm response from someone who was supposed to be mad, and again Ashlyn's blood began to boil, her mind thinking of other ways to try and get the blue man's goat. However, Marcus's appearance was strange enough on its own that any thoughts of continuing an altercation were halted by a new and apparent elephant in the room.
"There--uhh," she paused, having to give his trunk another look, "I mean, you see gene modders every now and again, but you're not going to find any in the Chateau, if that's what your asking." She hesitated, then added, "The Chateau's the ritzy part of town, lots of upper crust people, and they're uppity about maintaining the normal levels over there.
"But it's not like they can take you in just for being a gene modder, unless you start to really mess with the core of your DNA." She looked at Marcus. "You...might have a problem, buddy."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jul 19, 2010 10:07 am
It didn't seem like Writ had noticed her, and, not feeling like putting forth any extra effort to get his attention, slipped back into the crowd, moving closer towards the front. It was just more comfortable there, closer to seeing where they were going, and what was going on.
She was silent now, and would remain so for the rest of the journey. There was just so much to take in, and well, she was feeling a little overwhelmed. Not that there was anything wrong with that. The whole situation was a little crazy.
She yawned. Forget pizza, and ice cream, and candy. What she really wanted right now, was a nap. Hopefully they wouldn't be out to much longer.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
