|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sun Dec 18, 2016 11:54 pm
OOC FICTIONAL PIECE OF WORK THIS RP IS BASED OFF: Cyberpunk Genre TITLE OF FICTIONS: underneath my skin there is a violence CURRENT PRP SETTING: Near future. High tech. Low life. Cybernetic enhancements. Corrupt corporations. Cyberspace in VR. You are not the hero, nor are you the villain. You are trying to survive, but even that comes with a price too steep.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 14, 2017 2:47 pm
Tonight was the night. The party was dripping with socialites (and law enforcement), but at the center of the festivities was the Dame En Attente, a small but priceless bejewelled sculpture and arguably the most famous of Cartier's masterworks, if not the one with the most tragic history.
A wedding present for a royal couple, both were beheaded, and since that tumultuous uprising the Dame had been passed from unlucky owner to unlucky owner. It was now being donated to a museum, with the hopes of finally laying to rest its reputation.
And pocketing quite a bit of revenue for the museum's curator, who it was rumored had engaged in pulling some black political strings of his own.
The hologram that soothed Rodney's face and figure by indetectable pixels did not flicker. His red hair fell softly on his bare shoulders, a collar of the latest generation of gemcorp sapphires at his throat.
The whole hall stirred with lights and wine and polite laughter. The wet, black streets below were far away. And (for now) he intended to enjoy it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 14, 2017 3:00 pm
Wherever expensive items were put on parade there were people like Lawrence sent to protect them. He hated these jobs, because as far as he was concerned, the real criminals were swanning around him in lavish outfits talking about the gossip and who's who of the city. He was meant to be guarding a stupid - and as far as he was concerned - completely trivial little trinket. It didn't have value in the grand scheme of things, it didn't represent wisdom or anything deeper than an investment to be passed around from one person to the next before it settled in a museum for passers by to look at and remember how small they truly were.
He wished that he was home, or out on the streets dealing with actual people and their problems, the other night he'd been called to a domestic dispute, a messy affair where behind closed doors desperation had been writ large in blood on the walls of one of the low tech hovels left behind with the mechanical revolution. He'd held her hand and told her they might go light on her, given the circumstances when he knew in his heart they wouldn't.
He'd always been a very good liar.
That night he was in a suit, feeling uncomfortable and out of place, missing his uniform and his comfortable HUD, the contact lens mounted eye HUDS bothered him and gave him really dry eyes. Sometimes one of the crowd would mistake him for one of them and try to ask him what he owned and where he worked. He shut them down quickly.
Maybe some other night he'd have been in the mood to play their games, but this was valentines day and he had a wife who was at home with nothing more than some cheap store bought flowers for company while he played these stupid and ridiculous games.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 14, 2017 3:28 pm
A light hand found his, and before Lawrence knew it he had a flute in his stern grip. The drink shimmered with gold.
"A patron without his patrón?" Rodney asked, smiling prettily and brushing too close for casual conversation. There was the faint scent of perfume, a pale moonlit flower that closed whenever Lawrence inhaled.
The woman who had given it to him had an accent as faint and strange as the flower. She had in her other hand the same gold drink, and her touch lingered on his wrist.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 14, 2017 3:42 pm
Now women were more difficult for Lawrence. It was easy to think of the men as impotent money grubbing nightmares, but when it came to the ladies even with the thought that they were probably ruthless goldiggers didn't overcome his natural proclivity to speaking with them and occasionally flirting.
It was valentines, after all and a man got lonely.
He gave her a smile and shrugged his shoulders, taking a sip of the drink without thinking what he was doing. "My plus one had an emergency, nothing serious but here I am."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 14, 2017 4:07 pm
Rodney's hand moved up to Lawrence's arm, finding the muscle buried under the suit. He also found the outline of Lawrence's lighter, but didn't linger too long.
"Oh, leaving you alone to fend off donation inquiries? You haven't smiled since you arrived." Rodney noted sympathetically. "I'm minus one too, but I don't intend to spend the night unaccompanied."
His eyes slid briefly over to the center of the room, where the Dame looked prayerfully at the ceiling.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 14, 2017 4:13 pm
Tensing up a little at the contact, Lawrence gave the woman a searching sort of look, trying to get a bearing on what sort of person he was dealing with. He tended to have a good set of instincts when it came to people but he found it difficult to get a read on her.
"I've never been one for levity." he said. "Get told I'm too serious rather frequently, I prefer to be serious, some tell me my capacity to focus is a little intense." he shrugged. "I'm sure a lady like yourself has to positively fend off the eligible trust fund bachelors."
"Or are you here for the art?" he asked.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 14, 2017 4:40 pm
"Oh, I'm here for the exact opposite reason you are," Rodney teased, "to have a little fun. And not be serious at all."
He tipped back his glass, polishing it off with a cheerful flourish.
"And, yes, the art, of course," he sighed, "Our lady of the hour could use a bit of fun too. It's her last night as a bachelorette before being sent to languish in dusty museum matrimony. She deserves an unforgettable send off."
Rodney played with Lawrence's tie, loosening his collar.
"I just have a suspicion that the trust funders aren't up to the task."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Feb 15, 2017 6:00 am
Lawrence gave the woman a very disapproving sort of look for her statements about seriousness. Deep down he envied people who could set aside seriousness and relax. He couldn't remember the last time he had.
"Some things belong in museums." he said. "I don't find art very exciting frankly, it's all boring to me. Rocks. One rock is like another."
The colour rose in his cheeks at the contact and he cleared his throat.
"They aren't up to much."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Feb 15, 2017 6:16 am
"We keep finding ourselves in opposing positions! Can you feel it? Her heartache?"
He pressed close before leading the officer to her display, a sheet of almost invisible light projecting from the base, collecting information.
"She's like us, far from home and alone. A maid forever. If she has killed, can you blame her bitterness ? A bit of love, a bit of blood, does it matter which? She has a passion, a thirst, oh, she deserves a little of your attention. You should commiserate with her, not deride her."
His fingertips lingered on Lawr's chest as he talked.
"But not everyone has a soft spot for tragedy."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Feb 15, 2017 11:14 am
"No." he said flatly. He couldn't feel it, he couldn't feel anything much and had never been able to. Art was a flat dead thing which he'd never really been able to understand. He shook his head at the elaborate description the other man conjured up, not seeing the link.
"If she killed anyone then she deserves this prison." he said gruffly as he was led over. "But it's not a she anyway. Like I said it's a rock, nothing else."
He shook his head but didn't push her hand away from his chest.
"I have quite enough tradgedy in my life without seeking it out."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Feb 15, 2017 7:37 pm
Rodney's eyebrows knit in genuine worry for the Officer. His hands stayed.
"Is your job rough on you?" He asked, "or, from home?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Feb 16, 2017 6:02 am
Lawrence smirked but it was a little bit wearily. "Perhaps a little of both, one soft, one hard. I don't mind my work but sometimes it takes it out of me, and I don't mind my family but you know, sometimes it's the same."
He shrugged. "It isn't very becoming to complain though. Lots of people have it worse."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
