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 Posted: Sat Mar 03, 2012 4:21 am
✖▐ A C A D E M Y: Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
It's a Mad Worldxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxx▃▃ ✖ ▐ S t o r y ↓ ▃▃▃▃▃▃ ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃xxxxxxxTwo pasts, equal in corrupted influences. Two youths struggling to find their purpose for existence and meaning in the world. Both equally desensitized to society's norms.
Before coming to the academy, both Aspen and Roland were social outcasts used by those closest to them for personal gain. Both were desensitized to violence and slaughtering from early childhood, practically bred as killers. There comes a time in their pasts when the two cross paths. They find themselves allies temporarily as Roland's expertise in the field of fighting has caught Mr. Rupert Romanov's eye. He intends to inject his niece into this fighting society in order to capitalize on profits, fully convinced her mutant ability will reward him with riches in the cage fighting scene. He brings Aspen to Roland to learn from one of the best and train. The two youths meet for the first time, desensitized, exploited for their abilities and having no say in the course of their lives. Is it possible for two monsters to learn kindness or will they merely tear one another to shreds until only one's left standing?
xxxxxxx▃▃ ✖ ▐ C h a r a c t e r s I n v o l v e d ↓ ▃▃▃▃▃▃ ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃ xxxxxxxI-The-Fallen - Roland Anton Chevalier
Absanthe - Aspen Romanov
xxxxxxx▃▃ ✖ ▐ D e v e l o p m e n t s ↓ ▃▃▃▃▃▃ ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃ xxxxxxx TBA...
Coding done by The Bunit, Pics edited by Selena Lucania, Concept for thread approved by AX moderator, Selena Lucania
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Posted: Sat Mar 03, 2012 7:09 pm
Roland Chevalier
Entering the Gym The smell of the gym was of sweat, blood, and dust. His hands pounded into the boxing bag with some serious force. He let out some combination hits, his hands wrapped in the classic boxing wraps. Sweat dripped down his face as he kept up the pace. He was only 15 at the time, but he had long since grown into a physicality of a man at least 10 years older than himself. He wore no shirt, it was just him in the gym he didn't bother with the whole sense of decency. Dominic burst in the door with both hands wide out. The drug-addled moron of a stepfather was decked out in a suit that was way too ridiculous. He didn't know if it was the coke, but Dominic loved to dress like he was something out a Scar Face film. The black and white suit with the over-sized lapels. It was the saddest thing to see. Clearly the 70's were a time that should stay in the past. "Dom, how many times do I have to tell you? Get rid of the suit, or I'm burning if off of you skin." Roland said to him, "Now what the hell do you want? I need to train.""We got a client! Remember that Romanov connection I got? Well he's taken an eye to you kid! He wants you to train his niece!" Dom let out, he was more excited than a kid that got his hands on a bag of candy. Clearly Dominic was the one to do some ridiculous things, but this seriously just took the cake. "Really Dom? You're pulling this s**t on me now?" he responded, the anger in his voice growing, "I don't do training, I only do the fighting. You know, the thing you got me into when I was 9?""Hey, I own your a**! Now you're going to do this for me, and I'll give you a good cut of the deal." he said to him. "Fine, I'll deal with this crap. Send her in, and let's get it done already." he answered to him, he was prepared for just about anything. He stepped into the ring, waiting for this lovely young woman to come in. This girl likely was some lovely ditz that wanted to have some self-defense training. He didn't expect much out of this, it likely was going to turn into a simple one-two combination drill for an hour and a half.
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Posted: Sun Mar 04, 2012 4:59 pm
... Err on the side of caution ... ☣ ☣ ☣ ... Observations ...
Can smell the blood, sweat and tears tainting this place ... ☣ ☣ ☣ ... Location ...
One of the many hells on earth ☣ ☣ ☣ ... They're taking in the new girls: Two-faced, too poised to shed a tear ...  The girl's movements were controlled to the degree she retained seraphic and robotic qualities simultaneously as she stalked behind her uncle similar to a deadly tigress being unleashed from its cage but obeying its master. Her eyes were glazed over, ominous voids of darkness refusing to betray any of her internal opinions of this entire concept he'd come up with. She possessed no desire to be here, she knew how to kill people and he made her do it. Now he intended to have her fight for his amusement and to make him money as well? He was a sick man. A disgusting, vile, repugnant man which she possessed nothing but utter contempt for. There was no good in the man before her: he cared not for anyone but himself. He would do whatever it took to better himself: even turn his niece into a desensitized killer of human beings. Innocent or guilty, all that mattered was the man's verdict and Aspen would be dispatched.
"*Вы не возбуждается, ангел? Ты будешь делать то, что вы лучше, отточить свои способности дальше и использовать их для денежного выигрыша в этом процессе."
The girl stared straight ahead, clearly exhibiting no desire to be in this disheartening environment, "**Ага. Это самый радостный день в моей жизни. Я не могу ждать, чтобы пойти бить на некоторые отчаянные лица всего пытается заработать на жизнь из всего, что они способны."
"*Я советую вам отнестись к этому серьезно и он вполне может быть смерть вам, дорогая племянница."
"**Я думал, что мы сюда, чтобы он мог научить меня, как бороться с явно зная, как убивать людей не заслуживает мне знать, как с ними бороться."
"*Это правда, ангел. И все же мы еще здесь, чтобы оценивать наши конкуренты. Калибровочные ему хорошо, он будет вашим конкурентом, как только вы официально вводится в этой профессии. Найти и запомнить его слабые стороны, ваша жизнь может зависеть от этого."
"**Мы оба знаем, дядя, что если дело доходит до диспетчерской мое соревнование, кто выйдет на первое место в конце."
"*Хороший, чтобы видеть: Доверие является ключевой. Но не слишком самоуверенный, или он может проникать близких безупречной защиты ваших.."
"**Я могу заботиться о себе, спасибо. Вы видели в том, что лично дяде."
The primitive air and aura that emanated from this place was enough to nauseate her internally. She was crawling all over on the inside, easily listing thousands of places she'd rather be than this barren wasteland where humans and mutants alike had their aspirations and dreams crushed. A place where kind souls died and were reborn and implanted with hatred during the process. This place had not been erected with any intention of productivity, it was for the sole amusement of a sick breed of person who enjoyed witnessing other people's pain. The notion was an abominable one she could not help but abhor. She would not wish this kind of life upon anyone and anyone desperate enough to seek this particular community out for help was clearly in an inconceivable amount of trouble in their life. This was not a place an honest, innocent man would want to venture: it was likely a place such a man had never heard of. Ignorance was bliss, after all.
The sixteen-year-old girl who stalked into the room could have easily fooled anyone into believing she was older. Her eyes betrayed her age, suggesting she'd been through a lot more than typical teenagers her age had been through. When she came face to face with Roland he was greeted with nothing but contempt and apathy. She offered no introduction, he was not her friend and she was not his. Both of them knew this and she wasn't going to feign pleasantries for she cared not to. It was a purely business relationship, something she didn't even desire to possess with the fighter well known for his extreme brutality. Brutality was not something she admired, she despised people who used it as a tool and despised her uncle for utilizing her as his personal vendetta settler. Whoever got in his way soon disappeared from his path courtesy of the girl currently staring at Roland.
*Aren't you excited, angel? You're going to do what you do best, hone your abilities further and use them for monetary gain in the process.
**Yeah. This is the most exciting day of my life. I can't wait to go beat on some desperate person likely struggling to make a living out of the only thing they are good at.
*I advise you take this seriously or he might very well be the death of you, dearest niece.
**I thought we were coming here so he could teach me how to fight since apparently knowing how to kill people doesn't merit me knowing how to fight them.
*That is true, angel. All the same we are more here to measure our competition. Gauge him well for he will be your competitor once you are officially injected into this profession. Find and remember his weaknesses, your life may depend on it.
**We both know, uncle, that if it comes down to dispatching my competition who will come out on top in the end.
*Good to see: Confidence is key. But don't get too cocky or he might penetrate those near flawless defenses of yours.
**I can look after myself, thanks. You saw to that personally, uncle.
You are a child of priviledge: Your reputation leads you ...
All trace of life will disappear
You're falling into season
Their every word is insincere
There is no time for reason ... We lose control ...  ☣ Ⱥ§ρєȠ ☣ ... Of the moment ... Remember our childhood
It's not quite the same
A pale hue of new blood
They all know your name
You see through me, a new trend: indifference ...
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Posted: Sun Mar 04, 2012 9:54 pm
Roland Chevalier
Meeting the new "student"He got himself situated for this girl, the one that his stepfather had done the pleasure of arranging a training job for him. The smell within the gym, despite his attempts to make it smell somewhat nicer were in vain. It still smelled like something of the blood and sweat that had long stained this place. It was tainted by violence, growing in broken bones, festering in sweat and tears. It felt like home to him. The two of them entered, a young girl who despite her look of apathy he could see was close to his age, perhaps a little older. He had a good eye for that kind of thing. This girl, who despite her attempts to put on some show of contempt, he knew that she was more than likely not cut out for this type of thing. By his guess, he had to wonder just what exactly had she done before coming to this gym. Exactly what type of violence had she in fact committed before all this. He partially pondered about this, but then he waved it aside. he recognized the man that was her uncle, he'd been to a few of his fights. He even remembered him cheering excitedly when he won. Very likely having won a huge bet off of him. He wasn't too big a fan of this one. His hearing was not super, but he'd always been able to pick up sounds within this place a lot better, wonderful acoustics in this place. He also recognized the Russian they spoke, he had been dealing with the language for quite some time. He knew fully well what they were saying, and frankly it didn't bother him too much. She believed him to be some desperate man, and that she could beat him, but the reality is he didn't have a problem with this. It would make her unsuspecting, unknowing of just what he was capable of. Considering that she was being brought to him, she was likely a mutant. He watched as she made her way towards him. He motioned for her to step into the ring, going along with the implication of this being a strict business relationship. "Come on, let's see what you can do." he said to her, "Если маленькая принцесса не хочет, чтобы поцарапать ногтем.*" he said in Russian. He wanted to goad her into getting into a fight. Wanted to see her raw, unrestrained. It was likely going to be able to work out into something simple. If this girl thinks she's going to be a contender, she's going to have to wonder what her mutation is. Hopefully this is going to be interesting.
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Posted: Mon Mar 05, 2012 7:08 pm
... Err on the side of caution ... ☣ ☣ ☣ ... Observations ...
Princess, huh? Guess he won't see it coming then ... ☣ ☣ ☣ ... Location ...
One of the many hells on earth ☣ ☣ ☣ ... They're taking in the new girls: Two-faced, too poised to shed a tear ... An austere smirk marked her features upon the brute before her choosing to underestimate her solely based on what she could only assume was appearance and gender. She hoped he liked having his pompous a** kicked by a girl because there was no way in hell she was going to lose to him after being mocked in such an ignorant manner. She'd retract her former statement: in this special case ignorance would not be bliss, not for this man boy. She would allow him to think what he pleased, it would only serve as a disadvantage to him in the end. Of course, there was always the possibility he was just trying to throw her off and lead her to believe he thought her weak but she doubted that. "*Вы не очаровательны, в настоящее время? Что джентльмен: беспокоиться за таких, как я."
She took a single step forward, smirk growing ever more malicious in nature. "*Может быть, вы должны заботиться немного больше о себе, хотя."
Everything about her, her stance, the way she observed showed she was guarded and prepared for anything. There would be no surprises here, she would read him like a book and lock onto his weaknesses and penetrate them. It was as simple as that. She wasn't some little girl coming here to play: she was a big girl who meant business. She knew what she was getting herself into. Knowing her uncle this 'teacher' of hers was some form of mutant he wanted her to be challenged by in order to hone her abilities. So be it. Mutant or no mutant, she would combat him and emerge superior. Perhaps he thought of her as unsuited to this particular field but she disagreed. She would fit right in here: at the very least beating the living s**t out of a person was a refreshing downgrade from killing. Despite the fact she was hardened and desensitized to the violence the small human part of her still did not care for the act in the slightest.
Just as she was preparing to close the distance between Roland and herself as he challenged her, the all too familiar irritating chortle from her uncle reverberated throughout the complex. He clapped his hands over-enthusiastically as if he were watching a show on television, some sort of t.v. drama. "**Отлично! Так держать, так держать! О огненную нетерпения молодости! Я люблю его!" These weren't children to this man, they were property, property that would further him financially.
Mr. Romanov pulled a bottle of red wine from under his coat, it was back from his home country, exported directly to him here in America. He extended it gleefully to Dominic with utmost hospitality. He was a part of the Brotherhood as were a few other members in Aspen's family. Their name was well known and her family had higher stations within the organization (as they liked to call it) so they could pull strings all the way form America. "**Как насчет того, чтобы посидеть и выпить за наших славных бойцов! Пусть они учатся друг у друга и быть успешным в своем будущем!"
The things she had done and seen? Roland likely wouldn't believe her based on his current impression of her. He might not even believe her solely based on the things she revealed to him. Perhaps if he had a different impression of her and was able to sense the darkness expanding within her soul, pushing the light out and smothering it, he'd find it easier to see just what and who she was. She was a killer, plain and simple. A killer with social graces and an occasional conscience but a killer nonetheless. As the years went by it seemed the less human she became. Even Aspen somewhat feared the day her conscience was completely eroded by the blood staining her hands and tainting her soul. She hadn't come here because she was some angel, some princess who wanted self-defense training. She was merely here to hone her abilities just as her uncle had said, that and to size the competition up so to say.
Rebellion sweltered radiantly within her eyes with almost enough passion to sear the boy who stood before her with her gaze. This particular gaze, however, was revealed to Roland alone. It spoke of her hatred and abhorrence for the man currently speaking of her as if she were his prized cattle. She lowered her voice to that of a mutter so that only Roland could hear the venomous words within her tone choosing for the first time to address him in English, "Pigs, aren't they? Does yours treat you like you're an animal as well? He probably made you into one. We're not so different you and I. I find you can look into a person's eyes and can generally tell whether or not they've tasted blood. You're a killer of men, aren't you?" She stalked around him in a circle as she spoke to him, like a predator circling its prey, taunting it before preparing to lunge without warning: Graceful but deadly.
Her smirk was a wicked one. She was trying to fire him up, get his hair standing on end, bring forth the outrage in him, the anarchist within him. Maybe this slave was tired of obeying his master. She knew she was weary of hers. Perhaps if she got through to him and drove him to think for himself he could be of use to her. They could prove beneficial to one another, be partners for a time being in order to attain liberty. Of course trusting him would have its risks but what was life without living on the wild side? Boring was not something she was able to live with any longer, she'd done too many things, had seen far too much to go back to being normal now. She could sense the same of this boy before her. He wasn't normal, he wasn't likely able to fully revert back to it either, he was just as damned as she was. Aspen could not help but relish the irony of the situation. Had fate brought them together in some cruel ploy?
*Aren't you adorable, now? What the gentleman: worrying over the likes of me.
*Perhaps you ought to worry a little more about yourself, though.
**Excellent! Keep it up, keep it up! Oh the firey impatience of youth! I love it!
**How about we sit and make a toast to our two glorious fighters! May they learn from one another and be successful in their futures!
You are a child of privilege: Your reputation leads you ...
All trace of life will disappear
You're falling into season
Their every word is insincere
There is no time for reason ... We lose control ... ☣ Ⱥ§ρєȠ ☣ ... Of the moment ... Remember our childhood
It's not quite the same
A pale hue of new blood
They all know your name
You see through me, a new trend: indifference ...
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Posted: Mon Mar 05, 2012 8:54 pm
Roland Chevalier
Can we get this over with?She seemed to react to his comment calling her a princess cooly, but he could tell he had possibly struck a chord. She was calculating just what he was intending, likely under the belief that he was some ignorant brute that was under an assumption of superiority. She called him adorable, and remarked that it should be he that should be worried. She took a stance that was deemed by some very well prepared. Clearly she's got some experience, he had to give her credit for that. But she was rigid in his opinion, not to say that she wasn't prepared for this encounter, but he recognized a difference in styles here. He didn't bother taking a stance, just shifting his feet in such a way to prepare for the coming violence. Roland fought in a way that was unconventional for someone of his size and stature: speed and fluidity. He was like water, he just let the blows come his way and for someone his size he could just sway out of the way. Her uncle spoke out in a way that made this look like their own personal show. He brought out a bottle of wine, gesturing to Dominic for which he should imbibe with the Russian gangster. Roland had done a few favors with the vory, and thus had some connections, simple things: breaking a few legs, making some short changers pay up on their debts.. He'd never met this particular man, but he did remember seeing him around. She tried to relate to him, saying that she hated her uncle in such a way that Roland would possibly identify. Referring to them as pigs, she even asked if Dom treated him like an animal as well. Roland had to smirk a bit, she was trying to get him to make a move. To act first, which gave Roland an idea of what her mutation could be. He wasn't stupid to think he was dealing with any run of the mill mutant here. Looking to Dominic, Roland looked over at Dominic and her uncle, "No spectators. Too many distractions. No offense gentleman. Dominic perhaps you could show him some good product you're trying to bring through?" The look in Dominic's eyes was one of great anger, but he relented. He had an understanding that perhaps this was the right thing to do. And the "product" Roland mentioned? It was low grade s**t that he got from a farm peddler in Colombia, which Dominic had foolishly thought would make him one of the big time guys. Dominic was polite enough to motion for the uncle to walk with him, hopefully to talk about business. He waited for them to leave before he spoke. "Now that we have that out of the way, perhaps we can actually get this started. Dominic tried to treat me like an animal, but he has soon come to regret that decision. A broken arm in three places by an 11 year old after trying to wake him up with a crow bar got him to come around." he started with her, "And to say you and I are much alike is something to laugh about. Let me guess, you go to school right? I've never set foot in a school, the only education I have are from books and dealing with some other members of different mobs. And I've killed, and maimed, and done a whole bunch of terrible things that are the stuff of nightmares." he noticed her stalking about him, waiting for him to do something stupid. Though he'd long dealt with this kind of thing. He'd fought all colors, all shapes, all sizes of fighters human or mutant. He'd gotten the experience of a youth wasted to form him into the man before her. He had nothing in him, nothing to lose anymore. A childhood? It was something that had long gone, likely when he watched his first beating at the age of 5. "Now, can we end this little pissing contest and get started? Make a move instead of p***y-footing around me. I'm here to gauge what you're made of, so let's see."
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Posted: Tue Mar 06, 2012 9:40 am
... Err on the side of caution ... ☣ ☣ ☣ ... Observations ...
Very task oriented, this one. Not very much fun at all. ☣ ☣ ☣ ... Location ...
One of the many hells on earth ☣ ☣ ☣ ... They're taking in the new girls: Two-faced, too poised to shed a tear ... Accusing her of being a princess, to say the least, had caught her attention and she fully intended to inflict him with regret for claiming she was such. However, she was patient when it came to issuing revenge. She was in no form of hurry or rush. Rushing just lead to mistakes and she was still gauging this boy to an extent. After all, she wasn't fully aware of what his capabilities were either. There had to be something to him that had caught her uncle's eye where he was concerned. He hadn't just randomly been selected, she knew that much. Her uncle couldn't take her to be that much of a fool. Not to mention he'd bothered to mention that apparently this guy could potentially penetrate her defenses. Whether he meant physically or mentally was up in the air at this point but his statement still stood. It possessed some validity which meant she would have to regard this boy before her with caution.
In Rupert's mind they were his own little personal show. After all, Aspen was going to be fighting in front of a crowd eventually and he had already seen Roland in action. To see the two of them fighting each other was likely something that had peaked his interest. It was why, when the time came, she could only assume her uncle was not pleased to be asked to leave the room. Clearly the wine meant he had fully intended to spectate and observe the process but Roland had chosen to deny him that luxury. It was always a dangerous deed: telling someone in her family 'no' when they did not regard the person as an equal or superior. However, it seemed for the time being that Rupert had masked his temper rather effectively.
Aspen could only assume Roland was lying when insisting that spectators offered too many distractions in this situation, after all, he fought matches where numerous people observed him, likely nightly. As for herself, well, she was eventually going to do the same and she was going to have to suck it up and grow accustomed to the fact people were going to be watching her and betting on her. However, the man who she assumed was in charge of him visibly made known his disapproval but agreed despite the fact. Her uncle grinned, nodding his head to Roland in what would appear to be an acknowledgement of his suggestion and willingness to abide. However, likely unbeknownst to Roland was her family's custom to nod to people to insinuate they were going along with their antics while silently criticizing them and making a note to come back to said event in the future. It was obvious to Aspen her uncle was skeptical of Roland's intentions but he did not visibly or verbally display so. Only someone who knew him personally would know that he would not take kind to being willed out of the room should he not be receptive to the idea.
As for baiting Roland to attack first, that was not her intention at all. She was, in fact, attempting to direct his anger toward that of Dominic and her uncle for mistreating him. Perhaps Roland had not grown up within a civilized society or real parents but Aspen knew full well that what she did was morally opposed by the general populace. She would have informed her father of the unspeakable evils her uncle forced her to perform on his behalf but she knew she couldn't do that. Her father was a serious man but he foolishly trusted his brother. He would directly confront Rupert on the matter and ask him why Aspen had told him such a thing and if Rupert wasn't able to sway her father to his side then he would simply end his life right then and there. Rupert had a tactical advantage over her father since he expected his brother to be honest and straight with him, that his brother respected him. That was hardly the case: especially considering what Rupert forced his brother's daughter to do.
Aspen grinned upon hearing his tale in regards to Dominic attempting to mistreat him by means of a crowbar. "Oh, I wasn't referring to having a hand laid on me. My uncle's far too afraid of me to do something like that. You see, he fancies himself civilized and enjoys pretending to be such. I set foot in a school but that was short lived. They thought me to be psychologically unsound, that I do not possess empathy. I was deemed a public hazard to the other children's well-being so I have been home schooled my entire life." She chose not to respond to the last portion of his statements for she knew all too well what he referred to when he meant nightmares. Had she been a typical run-of-the-mill person likely this would have been the part where she became uncomfortable and tried to escape from the boy who she assumed wanted them alone to either kill or rape her. No such concern crossed Aspen's mind, though, she knew exactly what would happen should he attempt anything so foolish.
On task, insistent and demanding: perhaps traits sought out by someone meant to lead but not exactly by someone meant to teach. The fact that he hadn't even thoughtfully considered her words disappointed her slightly. Not that she had really been expecting him to catch her drift and surf the same wavelength of thought that she was. It seemed this Roland fellow wasn't particularly fun. Then again if he hadn't really had a childhood then maybe he didn't even know the meaning of the word fun. Hard-a** was the first adjective that would have come to mind had she been forced to describe him on the spot. Everything about him spoke business, he wasn't even willing to play around with the idea that they could join together to liberate themselves. A simple mind, she supposed she could co-exist with that though she was bound to lose interest if he wasn't even willing to humor her.
What was perceived by Roland as p***y-footing by Aspen was in fact her toying with him and trying to have a bit of fun. After all, she'd been forced here against her will and really had no interest in fighting against her will. What she didn't like, however, was being told what to do so instead of following his instructions she chose to toy with him a bit longer before to see how he would react. Her stance relaxed but she stalked toward him just the same, stalked in a deliberately indolent manner. She continued to close the distance between them until she stood directly in front of him, forced to crank her head upwards in order to see into his eyes. She contemplated verbally commenting on something to test him for a reaction but she decided simply standing next to him without explanation in silence might very well bother him more. Who would be first to break the silence? Who would strike first?
You are a child of privilege: Your reputation leads you ...
All trace of life will disappear
You're falling into season
Their every word is insincere
There is no time for reason ... We lose control ... ☣ Ⱥ§ρєȠ ☣ ... Of the moment ... Remember our childhood
It's not quite the same
A pale hue of new blood
They all know your name
You see through me, a new trend: indifference ...
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