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 Posted: Fri Oct 12, 2007 9:23 pm
 Yellow eyes narrowed as the skull faced merc crept along sliently. He was quite light on his feet, leaving almost no sound with each step he took, oviously something he easily transfered over to this new body. Dispite the fact that he now had four legs to walk on instead of two he had adjusted quite well and his fighting skills were almost back on par with what they had been before.
Almost.
Or according to the merc anyways. Brown edged ears flicked, pinning themselves back as he paused in his steps. There had been word of a possible job out somewhere, however his knowledge of the area was minimal at best. Perhaps he should have thought of bringing Wilson along, as the red clad merc had been in this odd world much longer. A disgusted look soon crossed his face as he quickly shruged off that thought. Wilson was a friend yes, but he was still competition, especially in a world with a rather low need for mercenaries.
Not to mention the fact that the guy never shut up.
It took about an hour before The Taskmaster finally found where he'd meet his possible employer. Next time he'd have to get directions, it had taken far too long for his likes. His ears perked up as his speckled tails swayed back and forth, the sheild strapped to his center tail gleaming.
Tony's nose wrinkled as he looked about junkpile. This looked as though it were a job he'd have taken when he was just started out, not now. Not when he was known as the Pro's Pro. After a few more glances he began to wonder if he'd have even taken the job when he had just started out. A grunt passed his throat, he didn't have much of a choice on jobs at this point and anything seemed better then nothing. Even if his employer lived in such a mess.
"I can't believe this is it."
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Posted: Sat Oct 13, 2007 8:57 am
 Oh, yes, it was a pretty nasty place to be, the junkpile. Its maker and owner would have been proud to hear the malcontent it brought to those just passing through. At least it wasn't very hard to find. In the middle of a forrest, among all the beautiful fauna, a section full of litter and scraps was pretty damn hard to miss.
As Tony drew closer, what looked like an old jumbo bag of ruffled chips rattled somewhere near the top of one of the first towers of trash. And then it was sliding down, quite fast, over bottles and plastic scraps and magazines. Just about the time Taskmaster reached the bottom, so did the bag. With a couple of bounces on the decaying ground that trailed like a boundary line around the nest of sorts, the bag spewed not sour cream and onion Lay's, but the very puny body of an animal.
B. Sharp gave a titter of joyful laughter as his small black body rolled along the dead grass, closer and closer to the merc. Halting on his back, the green-faced kit gave himself a languid stretch, peering up at Tony with both curiosity and childlike amusement. "Hi!"
Pink-tipped tails gave themselves a small wiggle before the kit slowly tipped over onto his stomach. He didn't seem at all intimidated by such a gaunt face or any of the strange things that they were carrying along. Maybe it was more treasure for the pile? "Stranger Danger," Purred B. Sharp quietly, before he seemed to remember that there was supposed to be a way he greeted people. Sitting up, the kit promptly pushed back his shoulders and fluffed his chest ruff in a comical imitation of some sort of defensive gesture. "Business or Pleasure?"
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Posted: Sat Oct 13, 2007 10:05 pm
The merc's gaze became fixed upon a very odd bag of chips as it tumbled down the side of one of the trash towers. To be quite honest it was rather difficult for the male's yellow gleaming eyes not to be fixed upon the bag, what with the noise it was making as it tumbled down the pile. Still, the merc kept his ears perked up, trying to filter out the sounds of the bag and listen for anything living.
Tony lifted his snout, inhaling hoping to catch any scent. Unfortunatly for the male all that wafted through his nostrils was the smell of junka nd garbage, not the most pleasing scent. The merc held back a gag. Using his nose was certainly something he'd have to work on, it wasn't something his Photographic Reflexes could mimic, it was something he'd actually have to learn himself. That fact was somewhat bothering, but the male shurged it off. He'd have to learn sooner or later, so he might as well make it sooner.
Well at least after the job, should he decide to take it.
At about the same time he reached the bottom of the junk pile the bag had to, and Tony's gaze left it...But only for a second or two, as a little black, pink, and green animal toppled out of it. A brow arched upon the male's face as his ears swirved back. Well you didn't see that everyday.
As the kit spoke a rather amused look crossed Tony's face. 'You have got to be kidding me. Things certainly are different in this place. --Though I can't say it doesn't keep things interesting.'
The merc found the young kit to be somewhat like that Shoom character he had met a while back, though certainly less annoying, for the moment. His speckled tails flicked wildly, yet seemed to carry a certain grace, his center tail gently tapping the sheild against the ground. A devious grin curled onto his maw, as he lowered his head to the kit's level. "Business."
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Posted: Mon Oct 15, 2007 4:38 pm
At the grin, the young whelp trembled a little with what could have been fright as well as awe, tails trashing his pleasure. Ooooh, spooky! Instead of grinning like he would have wished, however, he simply frowned and gave an official-looking little nod. He knew that whatever Stranger Danger said, he would still have to report his presence to Regime anyway, being only the doorman of sorts. Business or pleasure just determined whether or not the boss moved his lazy hide. It was too bad it had to be business, though.
"Okay. Wait here, please." Spinning about, the kit scrambled with familiarity up the mountain of litter, until he disappeared over the peek behind the sad remains of a red wagon. It wouldn't be too much of a wait at least. The first to reappear was B. Sharp, sitting down momentarily to glance back and forth between Tony and whoever else was on the other side of the junk pile. There was the pop and crunch of things giving way beneath a greater weight at first, of metal being scraped with sharp ends. And then the Nightmare was there, perching precariously though his stance appeared unstrained.
"Business is always a pleasure here," Drawled the tenor tone that floated free of the Nightmare's skinless maw. There was a brief crunch as Regime seated himself, a king upon his trash-composed throne. His fur seemed... alive, to say the least, like an color-blind camera sweeping itself high above a grand city upon a hill; nevermind that it was a hill of waste. With a quick flick of a pink tongue, the gray behemoth smiled rather nastily. "Name's Regime, and this here's my glims, B. What can I lay you down for, daddio?"
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Posted: Thu Oct 18, 2007 12:58 am
Tony gave a nod as he was asked to stay wher he was as the little kit scrambled back up the mountain. Sliently he curled his tails around his hind legs, ears lowering into a comfortable position. His eyes darfted about the junk as he sat waiting. The skull faced merc couldn't even begin to imagine who would want to live in a place so full of random odds and ends. It made him think of the old tales of dragon and their piles of gold, though he doubted laying upon the junk was comfy to say the least, not to mention none of the stuff seemed to have any value. Dragon's had gold, while whoever lived in the junk had...well, crap.
The wait for the kit to return did not last long and soon Tony found his gaze returning to the little ball of fur. His eyes did not stay upon the kit however, as he watched the little one glance between him and someone coming over the junk pile. Ah, good. The person in charge he'd bet.
The sound of things being crushed beneath the weiht of whatever was coming gave note to the merc of the other's size, though when the Nightmare finally came into view Tony's eyes widened. He had never seen another Kitsusagi like him before, if the other was even the same species. He guessed he was what with the similarities, dispite the ovious differences. Probably just another breed or something like that. Still the cityscape Nightmare was huge, especially compared to the kit. And the former 6'2" merc though he was tall for one of these furry creatures, being slightly taller then normal...But this Nightmare, well, clearly his height wasn't as tall as he had first thought.
"People call me The Taskmaster." he began after Regime had inroduced himself. "I hear you have a job, you want delt with." Tony always just cut straight to the chase, he wasn't one for idle conversation, not when a possible job was involved.
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