[RP]Seekers of Power

Abstract Debauchery

Abstract Debauchery

High Mage of Loathing
Veteran
Joined
Oct 5, 2009
Messages
3,322
Age
35
Location
Nexus
Gil
4
Seekers of Power
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How long had she been there? She could have sworn that a few days ago someone had told her that she had been there for weeks. The entire concept of time was off now. The only thing she could do was sit in the cold chair she was bound to and think. For the last few hours she had only gotten up once to use the restroom. It was one of the only two times she was allowed to get up a day. Besides the smell of what could have been mold, she couldn’t determine anything about her location at all.

So instead she simply sat there. Day after day she sat there. She didn’t know if anyone could hear her out there, but it was better than simply waiting there to rot. At times she could feel another one of her kind being close, but it was never for very long. All in all it was more than likely someone like her walking around nearby, completely unaware of the fact that she was there. She kept trying to send out a message, but was never able to do so. For the next few hours she planned on saving her energy. If she could just manage one message… perhaps someone could save her?


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Once again Alyss woke up shortly after twelve in the morning for no reason at all other than the fact that she felt an incredible sense of guilt wash over her. Of course, shortly after the emotion died down, her head began to hurt and she was incredibly annoyed. It never took very much to annoy her, but random spouts of guilt followed by headaches made her even more so. It wasn’t like her before to feel such a random mood swing. Yet now it was happening almost daily. More often than not they occurred during the night.

For a moment she tried to turn to the side and go back to sleep. Even though she knew it was useless, she still always tried. However, once the headache was there, she knew she wasn’t getting back to sleep for a while. With a grunt and a sigh she sat up out of bed. Her red blanket slid down from her shoulders and bunched up at her waist. She was wearing a silk nightgown that went down to her ankles. It was the finest that money could buy… much like all of her belongings.

She turned and placed her feet on the ground and quickly got out of bed as she grabbed her glasses from the nightstand and put them on. There was a slight stumble as she was still tired, but nothing too major. At times she could be a klutz, however. Falling down now would only put her in an even more horrid mood, so she was very careful as she walked over to her closet. As she walked towards it she couldn’t help but let out a slight yawn. Once there, she picked out her typical outfit. It consisted of her white blouse, long brown skirt that went to her ankles, black tie, brown vest, stockings, and her boots with the two inch heel.

For anyone else that would have been overdressed, but she didn’t really care. She always dressed nicely, even if she was only going down the street. Clothing was part of why she was rich and successful and everyone else was inferior. Alyss couldn’t help but be a bit smug as she thought about it. After all, how you dressed and carried yourself was part of letting everyone know who you were. Alyss was from a rich family, and thus she carried herself like one, and she couldn’t have cared less who knew.

One thing that she couldn’t stand was being nude at all. Her clothes covered every inch of her, save for her head. Every button on her blouse was buttoned to the collar to ensure that not even her neck was showing. So as she dressed out of her nightgown and into her clothes she made it a point to hurry. Something about being nude just… bothered her immensely. The faster she was dressed, the better. Luckily, she had already taken a shower before she slept. Once again she couldn’t help but smile.

Every night she had a headache like the one that woke her up, she couldn’t help but want to go to the diner down the street. For her, it was somewhat important. The food wasn’t amazing, but it was simply “okay”. However, in the alleyway next to that diner was the place where she had been given her power. To this day she had no idea why that woman had chosen her. She simply remembered being grabbed from behind and taken into the dark alleyway against her will.

That night, she thought she was going to die. However, she was quickly spun around and forced to look up into the eyes of a brown haired woman with the bluest eyes she had ever seen. She went to scream but the woman shoved her hand upon her mouth almost instantly and forced her to be quiet. All she had said to Alyss was, “this power suits you”, and without any warning she took her hand from her mouth and kissed Alyss right on the lips. Aside from feeling violated, she felt warmth in her body, and then the woman ran off.

Alyss didn’t understand that night fully until much later when she discovered that she could teleport. Of course, there were limitations. She couldn’t teleport to places she hadn’t seen, and she couldn’t teleport too many times in the day, and after a while, her nose would begin to bleed from it. To top it all off, the longer the distance, the more it took out of her. That wasn’t even mentioning that she couldn’t teleport with objects she couldn’t carry, or the fact that if she was restrained to something, she couldn’t teleport at all. The amount of testing she did when she first found out about her newfound ability was substantial to say the least.

She couldn’t figure out if she wanted to thank the woman or have her beaten for scaring her to death. Even as she was getting dressed she was still angry at the fact that the woman stole her first kiss. Yet, things like that were hardly ever on her mind. Most people her age were going out with other men or women and getting love drunk. Alyss simply thought it was all silly. Not to mention annoying as well… They had their entire lives ahead of them and they couldn’t help but want to hump the leg of the first thing that was willing to sit down with them for more than five seconds at a time.

As Alyss got done putting her ankle boots on, she grabbed one of her black coats that went down to her knees and rolled her eyes. I suppose that is just what goes through the minds of common people, she thought. Taking a red scarf, she wrapped it around her neck and the bottom of her face and walked out of her room, through the living room, and to the front door. Her walls were decorated with art from many renaissance painters, and she even had a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. She couldn’t help but be materialistic. Alyss was quite proud of her upbringing, and looking at things like that simply made her more so.

On the dresser next to the door was her key. She grabbed it, opened the door, closed it behind her, and walked out. Down the hall she made sure to be quiet as to not wake anyone. Yet the clicking of her heels (however tiny) on the ground was bound to wake someone up. Yet she didn’t care at all. That was their problem, not hers. However, it was at that particular moment that she realized she could have just teleported to the alleyway next to the diner and walked the rest of the way. She looked around in the hallway to see if anyone was watching. Once satisfied that there wasn’t, she quickly teleported.

The feeling of it was intense back when she first started. Yet now it was instantaneous and came with no problems at all. Before, she would feel as if she was sick to her stomach and want to puke for a little while before she got better. Now all she felt was a little pull and then she was exactly where she wanted to be. It truly was a wonderful thing. Yet she was always careful not to be careless with it. All it would take is one person and it would ruin her forever. The very last thing that she wanted was people finding out about her. She knew very well that her power could be used for illegal things. How easy would it be to rob a bank blind if one could teleport?

Within a second she was in the alleyway. Alyss quickly looked around. Though panicked, she didn’t see anyone. With a smug look of self-satisfaction on her face, she walked out of the damp and dark alleyway. The city was rather cold tonight, which made her rather happy that she was bundled up like she was. While she did love the cold weather, even she couldn’t stand being too cold. As she exited the alleyway, she took a sharp right turn and saw the brightly lit interior of the diner through its large windows.

The diner was like most diners that people saw. Somewhat old fashioned, booths, and a bar; the lady behind the counter looked to be in her late 60s and it showed due to her grey hair. As she walked into the diner, the bell rang and the woman behind the counter looked up. Even though she couldn’t see her clearly yet, she could tell the woman sighed for some reason. Before she could even sit down the lady simply yelled out, “same thing as usual?” Alyss nodded her head and shifted herself into the booth. Shortly after, the lady came out with what she normally ordered: potato soup. Not even uttering a word of thanks, Alyss picked up the spoon that was sat down next to her and started eating.

The first thing she noticed was that fact that the soup was a bit more watery than normal. From there she instantly put her spoon down. “Hey,” she yelled out. “This soup is watery. You need to make me another one. This is unacceptable.” Of course, the woman behind the counter wasn’t very amused. “Listen lady, you’re going to have to learn to deal with what people give you. Every other night you come in here and complain about something. Don’t you ever get tired of it?” Alyss’ face flushed with anger. “Do not talk to me that way. I am a paying customer and I want my food made correctly.” She folded her arms in frustration.

Reluctantly the woman came back, took her bowl, and came out five minutes later with a new one. This time Alyss was much happier with the taste as she sat down and started enjoying her meal. All the while in the back of her mind she couldn’t help but wonder what was waking her up in the middle of the night and giving her headaches. After the first few bites, she adjusted her glasses out of frustration.

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For the last week, Lyra had been setting things up. There was quite a lot of planning involved with things like this. A lot of people would call it “the long con”, Lyra simply saw it was work… a lot of it. She had done all the necessary research, planned ahead for every scenario possible, and laid everything into perfect order. She had even made a few friends that helped her along the way. All she had to do was push the lead domino and the rest of them would come crashing down in an instant. As she ran her fingers through her long black hair she couldn’t help but be a bit happy with how things turned out.

If everything went according to plan, which there was no reason as to why they shouldn’t, Lyra would have all the money she could possibly want and a nice place to stay in the meantime. Some people just weren’t aware of how nice they had things. She was sure that by the time she was done, they would. Most people would feel kind of bad if they ever even thought about the things that she was planning on doing. However, Lyra wasn’t most people. There were times she thought she was a sociopath… but she couldn’t be bothered to really care.

At the end of the day, she was all that was mattered. For now, she was sat on top of a roof of a building across the street of her target. It was snowing out, but Lyra never really cared. She had all the heat she wanted within her… and if things didn’t go her way, she didn’t mind using it in the slightest. Yet, she was confident that things wouldn’t come to that. Her target would see her logic in time, and she would have very little choice but to accept her offer; whether she wanted to or not. With everything set in place, there was no way she could refuse. Lyra couldn’t help but chuckle at her own plans.
 
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Levont Mires

The day certainly hated Levont Mires as he finished putting away the last cashier box away in the manager's office. His boss left his paycheck out on the desk and along with the paycheck, the grocery that he paid for during the day. But for all that, it still didn't get him off from work until midnight on a god forsaken cold day in January. Shaking his head, he quickly put on his jacket and picked up his grocery. He could not get a firm grip on most of his grocery as he placed his paycheck in his pocket. He passed by his boss who told time to take care and have a nice night. The manager was a nice lady. She acted more like a mother if anything else.

After saying his goodbyes to his boss, Levont left the supermarket. The cold air stung his cheek as he shivered. Levont can't understand why anyone would want to live in a cold area like in New Bedford. He would have taken his motorcycle, but motorcycling in the cold January was not logical and it would also not allow him to take his grocery home. His mind started to wander back to his homeland. Not for the first time, Levont Mires felt homesick. It seemed like ages ago since he was chosen to live in New Bedford. All due to his hard work. Shaking his head, Levont smiled as he made his way back to his apartment as quickly as he could so he could get out of the cold and get some exercise in before heading to bed.
 
“I can’t let them get me.” He ran through the forest as fast as his legs would take him. Sweat poured in beads down his dirty face, mixing with matted bangs that got in the way.

“He went that way!” A voice called out from behind him. Voices echoed above the husks, and fire burned on the horizon. He thought he’d be able to escape them if he slipped through a corn field, but he couldn’t. They were too fast; they were gaining on him! Yards ahead of him, the floating lights on torches grew nearer. He was running out of time, but there wasn’t anywhere else he could go. His dirty black hair stuck on the back of his neck, constantly sending chills through his body. Extending his arm out, a short burst of fire exploded from the palm of his hand. It sung through the air with a deep, scorching bellow, before it made contact with a great oak tree, hundreds of meters away.

“There, that should distract them for a little while.” And he dashed in the opposite direction. His thighs burned as he willed them to carry him forward, for how much longer he’d be able to keep this up, he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t going to be very long, especially if they outnumbered him. “How did they find us?” He felt his muscles tighten, his breath labored and forced.

The Seekers were playing a game with the one Holder; toying with his emotions, letting the adrenaline course through his body, adding flavour to the catch. It was an original Cat and Mouse game, pursuing him through the farmlands, doing what their ancestors had done for so many years before them. The rivalry between the Holders and the Seekers was an ancient one; never particularly passed down through heritage but it always had the same cause: The Holders had something and the Seekers wanted it.

It was an unfortunate destiny for some, and a blessing for others. For he, the fire bender, it was as much a curse as the dried scars on his body were an imperfection. For years he had struggled to contain and master it, and now that he had shown some inner restraint he was about to lose it all?

He didn’t have much time to linger on this thought before a hot searing pang cut through it. His back burned with a fiery pain, one unlike he had ever experience before. He stumbled, and fell to the ground, the weight of his tired body taking him like a sack of potatoes. “You realize why we’re after you, don’t you, fire breather?” A voice called out from behind him, one of the Seekers o doubt. His hand clawed at the ground, trying to drag his tired body away from his tormentor. A hard boot slapped him in the back, pinning him to the earth. His fingers grasped nearby corn stalks, warming the trunks. If he would go down, he’d ta—

Flit!

His head reared in pain as his right hand was lopped off with the same sickle that tore through his back. “You won’t get rid of us so easily.” Lifting his boot, the Seeker kicked over his catch, turning him over onto his back so that they would meet face to face for his last brief moments. “Is this it?” His shaky voice was received as the Seeker raised his arm to deal the final blow.

“It’s… An extinction.”

Ami shot up from her bed, sweat dripping from her brow and collecting at the bridge of her nose. Her chest rose and fell with laboured breaths, and her eyes shot to her right hand instinctively. Still there. Her hand came up to fall against her chest, trying to subdue the fear instilled in her from a dream. A dream? No, a premonition? No, it wasn’t right. This wasn’t the first time Amarillo had such convincing flashbacks, and at the rate they were increasing over the last month, she knew it wasn’t going to be the last.

Most of the time she couldn't remember the dream, or the faces of those who were chasing her. This time however, it felt so real, the pain in her back, the dull sensation where her hand used to be. Now as the nightmares persisted, once they faded they often left her a gift, a nagging migraine that licked at the corners of her mind.

“What time is it…only 11:42… ugh…” So tedious; it was this early and she was already plagued with spirits of the past? “I need a walk.” Hoping to get a good night’s rest by heading to bed early proved to have the opposite reaction on Ami as the nightmares came sooner than before. Sliding on her tight black long sleeved shirt to restrict her bust, and hiding it further beneath her favourite yellow tunic and brown jacket, Ami peeked around the open door of her room. “Still asleep.” They couldn’t have gone to bed too long ago, so she could nip out for a quick stroll.

Taking up her straw hat, and rolling up her bushy blonde hair beneath it, she checked in her wall mirror before leaving. “It doesn’t matter... nobody will be out at this hour anyway… Except maybe the freaks and weirdos.” Wasn’t she a freak too?

Finishing her inner monologue, Ren left her apartment building, skipping down the stairs lightly so as not to rose anyone else from their peaceful slumber. She envied them; she wished she could have peaceful and happy dreams like them. She wished for a night where she wouldn’t wake up in a cold sweat, plagued with the memories of her kin dying. For years this would happen, albeit scarcely. But ever since the ‘apocalypse’ was proven to be a false proclamation, they were happening more and more. Three times a week now she would dream about it; usually the same person, but sometimes this scared individual had a different face. Why was this happening to her?!

Shutting the door to the building, Ren skipped out onto the sidewalk, affixing her straw hat a little tighter. It was snowing, a beautiful night for a stroll. No one would probably be out in this weather. She took a few deep breathes, watching as the small puffs of air melted into the night, hoping the cool winter air would help with her stress, if only a little.
 
OOC: Italics = internal thoughts

Anarchia Iilyavich Vesperia - Sevensheep

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Anarchia sat on the rooftop of some pathetic little building in the middle of New Bedford. There was little light up where she was, considering it was close to twelve at night and that no one would have any business to be where she was. After all, who'd want to enter some abandoned warehouse office in the middle of the night? It was precisely that which made Anarchia chose this place to camp out. A cloud of steam escaped from her mouth as she breathed out, staring up at the obscured night stars. It was to be expected. She was in America after all. The city lights were still glaring enough to ruin the view. Whatever the case may be, Anarchia sat still, back against the wall, waiting on Iglesias to call her. Her Balisong served as a good distraction. Anarchia put the small blade through a series of maneuvers and tricks. The clinking of the metal swiveling and spinning was interrupted only by the vibration of her phone.

Speak.

Ani! I got what you asked for!

Forgetting for a split second that Iglesias was the one she was going to talk to, Anarchia had placed the phone next to her ear. As a reward, she was given a harsh blasting from the exuberant girl. In an uncharactersitic soft voice, Anarchia tried to get her cousin to quieten down and get the information out of her.

Volume, Igelsias. Volume. One of these days, you are going to make me deaf. Now, what do you have?

Whoops. Sorry, but yeah.I have tracked down two dealers you can go to for firearm. In this local area, a man named "Muscles" seemed to be a rather reputable dealer. However, he seems to be hard to get a hold of and understandably, he is also wary. Given the way you dressed and headed out tonight, i don't think he is going to be laying the red carpet for you.

What is wrong with what i am wearing? It is what i usually wear.

Exactly. I'm pretty sure anyone, not just criminals, would be wary of someone wearing military dress uniform in the middle of the night.

Anarchia glanced down at what she was wearing right now. A short sleeved dress shirt, her teal skirt and tie.... she didn't think it was overly militaristic. However, Anarchia failed to take into consideration of her armband, her military gloves, her garrison cap that was tucked into her epaulettes and last but not least, her military badges on her collar.

In any case, we have a second option. Intel states that a renowned broker arrived in the US recently. New Bedford to be more exact. Now, this, person, we can trust. I'm sure you have heard of Amira Haktanir? I think you've met her in the Baltics once or twice. Unfortunately, i could only find out she was in New Bedford and not her exact location. So that really leaves you with Muscles. What i suggest is you find his companion, a woman named Miranda Lin and see if you can get her to meet "Muscles"

Haktanir would have been nice. I could have gotten some quality firearms, but its no use if i cant find her. Okay. Location and information on both targets.

Right away.

The glass display on her phone changed and two files appeared. Since Miranda was the first one she needed to find, Anarchia expanded the girl's one and made her way down onto the streets. Her head throbbed slightly as she walked, but Anarchia pushed that aside. The cold scything wind was not an issue, so why would her head throbbing slightly be? To her, it was most likely that the head trauma from Russia hasn't recovered completely. Credit had to be given to Iglesias. Her intel even list potential location of this Miranda Lin.

Time to find us a middle woman....

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Amira Karluka Haktanir


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The splay of LCD screens hung on a rack in 180 degrees, making it feel like a security room. Each large screen aired a different news channel, from finance to war to kittens stuck in trees. However, none were being watched. Amira Karluka Haktanir had reclined on her leather chair, her feet resting on the red mahogany table and just idly staring up at the roof. She could only seem to recall what she had done several hours ago. It was impulsive, reckless and in honesty, really stupid, but what she saw got her blood boiling.


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Marcella, we are in America. Do you really think i can't handle a few gangers?

No. I'm sure you can, but why risk it? Plus, i've been sitting at home all day. I gotta go out and grab me something.

The pair strolled down Parker Street, near Route 18, heading towards a hardware store. Marcella needed a set of precision screw drivers and decided to accompany Amira with her walk. Truthfully, she really didnt need screwdrivers. Fei had coerced the latino into making up an excuse to follow their boss wherever she goes. In fact, this directive applied to anyone in the group. Under her long coat, Marcella had a Serbu Super Shorty and a Beretta 93R on her hip. Whatever the case, the duo made it to the store without issues, unfortunately, Amira added soe complications.

I'll stay outside. You're going to be quick anyway.

Marcella cursed under her breath. If Amira had so much as a scratch, Fei was going to murder her.

Okay. Just don't move. I dont want to call you to find you.

As the latino ran into the store, Amira paced back and forth in front of the store, waiting patiently when she walked by an alleyway. While she only took a quick glance, Amira spotted something that did not sit well with her. A young teen and some grizzly old man in a typical back alley exchange. As if straight from a movie, one hand had cash, the other hand a small package. As the young teen walked away with the package, Amira felt her blood boil. With quick steps, she walked down the alleyway, her boots clicking slightly on the concrete which got the man's attention. Obviously thinking she was perhaps another client, the man smirked and turned to face the small petite woman.
Perfect, a bigger target...

As Amira's hand hovered for her Desert Eagle, she felt only her back. Only now, did she remember that Fei, with Richard conspiring as well, took her beloved gun away and gave her a subcompact glock. Whatever it was, she didn't care. After a second delay in slipping her hand into her jacket, Amira drew the small gun and unloaded into the dealer. The first shot rammed home into his chest as Amira begins a double tap. The second rams into his right eye socket followed by another shot to his head and four more to his body. By the time the slide rammed back empty, the man was dead on the ground and Marcella was running full speed down the alleyway.

God damnit Amira! Fuck... let's split!

As an ex police, Marcella knew casings were bad and quickly scooped up all seven of them lying on the floor and grabbed Amira by the hand. Quickly shoving the casings into her pocket and drawing her phone out, Marcella quick dialed Gad.

Gad. Your ass, Corner of Maxfield and Spruce. Now!

Thankfully, the team has plenty of experience in losing and leaving shooting scenes and without an issue, the two girls were walking casually down Cottage Street and turned into Maxfield where Gad was waiting in the Audi R8. Uncerimonionsly, Marcella shoved Amira into the back seat before jumping into the front.

Home. Casually.

The latino was not happy.


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Well... I guess we can say we were lucky that glock of yours and the bullets inside were from Afghanistan. Untraceable. But god damn it was smart thinking Fei.

I know the boss. Give her the Deagle and she would have used that instead... with all seven rounds.

Alright alright... i get it. I get it. I will reflect on my actions.

Fei rolled her eyes but Richard could only chuckle. The two leaders walked out of the room and left Amira staring at the ceiling until now. The twelve oclock news started on the screens which broke Amira's stare. It was late. Stretching out her shoulders, Amira pulled herself from the seat and plonked herself towards her room. The only regret she had was her recklessness. She could care less about the dealer and she was sure as hell not going to lose any sleep over him.

 
The girl looked up at her captor with a hateful glare - a difficult feat considering one of her eyes was swollen shut and the other was nearly there as well. Her clothes wreathed her in tatters, the remains unable to be identified as to what they once were. Assorted lacerations lined her flesh from where she had been sliced, cut and mutilated in other ways. Angry red burns intermingled with them, trailing around her neck, across her shoulders and down her arms. Her face was moist from the tears she had been crying for the last few hours and her body was wracked with coughing spasms. Her lips moved, mouthing out a series of words but her throat was too hoarse to make out anything more than a dry sound.

"Oh? What was that? I can't hear you that well. You might to speak up a bit."

The singsong voice came from her captor, a man whose lithe body was illuminated by the starlight filtering through a skylight. It came from behind though so his face wasn't illuminated but the girl knew every contour of it, the image having been burned into her mind. He was in jeans and a short sleeve shirt, on his nose was perched a pair of glasses. His hands were streaked in blood - not his but the girl's - and in one of them there was a knife, the edge dripping her blood as well.

"Come on now," he whispered as he leaned down to look her square in the eyes, the singsong voice he had now dark and sinister, "Tell me. Tell me exactly what you want to say."

"Fuck...You..." she managed to get out, her voice scraping as bad as nails on a chalkboard.

"I'm afraid you're just not my type," he sneered as he lashed out with the knife.

The blade dug into her shoulder where he twisted it, drawing even more blood. She cried out, though it was more of a cough than anything else, her real screams having died some two hours earlier.

"Now, I'll say it again. Give me yo-"

He was interrupted by the ringing of a cell phone on the table where his tools of torture lay. Sighing as he stood up straight, he snapped the fingers of his free hand. The shadow that fell across the girl moved of its own accord, the hand going for the phone that lay on the table. The girl gasped, or tried to, at this. There was no way this shit could be happening. It was bad enough that she had been kidnapped and tortured but now voodoo or some other crap was involved? The shadow sidled up next to her captor and flicked open the cell phone with its fingers before holding it to his ear.

"How many times have I told you not to call at this hour? It would be nice if I COULD GET SOME SLEEP!"

His voice had gone from simply seething to a roar quickly. Seeing him distracted, the girl began jostling the metal wire that bound her to her chair. Her flesh began to flay as she worked against it and in some places the bond got looser. Unfortunately that meant she was moving around and that began to vibrate the knife in her shoulder and she cried out, a papery sound that was muffled but still audible. Her captor's eyes flshed back to focus on her and he snapped once more. The shadow of herself and her chair bound themselves around the physical bonds.

"I don't care if someone hacked into their files and stole a shitload of money and they need it now," he said into the mouthpiece as the girl before him struggled against the new bonds.

She rocked back and forth in her chair, trying to loosen these new bonds but they only seemed to get tighter the more she fought against them.

"HEL-" she croaked, trying to get her voice to the mouthpiece of her captor's phone but a jerk of his finger had a shadow gagging her.

It was bad enough that she was already having trouble breathing bu now it was even more difficult as she tried to draw a breath through her half broken nose. Every time she tried it caused a sharp pain to disrupt her thoughts. So much for escape.

"They'll pay me that much? Fine, I'll be at Premier National Bank tomorrow at 11 AM."

With a slight movement of another finger, his own shadow closed the phone and set it back down on the table before jumping back to its natural place: looming over the girl.

"I'm sorry about that... Stephy was it? Now let's get back to where we were. Give me your power and this will all end, I promise."

She looked wildly at him, as if trying to comprehend it.

"Your power, Stephy. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Is it hypnosis? Mind control? Luck manipulation?"

Stephy shook her head, though the shadow gagging her did a fair job of restraining that movement too.

"You've got something girl, and I want it. Because you see, there's no way in hell, a 16-year-old girl can go from cleaning crap off tables to manager of an Applebee's in two weeks."

He wrenched the knife out of her shoulder as he finished his statement. The shadow gagging her removed itself just in time to loose her hack of pain.

"Well? What is it?"

She shook her head in refusal.

"You've got more resolve than most Stephy. More than most men. Are you really not going to give it to me? Even if that means you die?"

She shook her head again.

"Then at least no one else will get it."

She sobbed in pain as the knife entered her abdomen, the tears running anew down her face. She jerked back in pain as it entered again, this time on the other side. It was slow, painful, torturous. She wouldn't die for another 3 hours even though he left only 15 minutes later.
 
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[OOC: wtf. Tipsy. That phone is freaking cool. Too bad only Iron Man has it. And your character.]

Miranda exhaled, watching her breath form a mist that dissipated into the air. Having been born in a tropical country, this wintry weather was an expensive luxury that would inevitably involve a flight somewhere. That is why to be here was truly a blessing. Still, she sighed aloud as she realized for the umpteenth time that this was hardly the right time. Leaning back on the bench she was sitting on, she gazed across the road at the sidewalks. Supposedly, one of Muscle's new customers had arranged to deal around this area.

However, as things turned out, nearly two hours had gone with hardly a single person approaching her. By now, her reputation as a middleman - or middle woman in this case - ought to be well known. Clearly, this customer had changed his mind. She frowned and shook her head in disapproval as she got up. No point waiting any further for someone who couldn't keep to pre-arranged timings. She would return to Muscle now and make sure to have him allow her to bash the customer up if he ever dared to return. She rarely made decisions on emotional whims, but there were exceptions - as in this case.

Her brows were still furrowed together as she stomped along the sidewalk. At this time of the night, hardly anyone was around to pay her any heed. Well, except some weirdly dressed male up ahead. Looking at the person, Miranda couldn't help but wonder despite her soured mood how exactly this person could choose to wear a straw hat in this day and age. Slowing her pace to match the person ahead, she continued to stare at the person. It wasn't often that Miranda encountered someone she could actually consider to have somewhat bad taste in fashion choices.

Muscle had teased her for far too long. Finally she had a way to rebut him.
 
OOC: Hadnt actually made an appointment yet. was going to ahve anarchia find you and ask if u can introduce, but i can work off this still. Also, i dont think Channy's character can be noticed as a male that fast. I was under the impression that he was very girly and not easily distinguishable

Anarchia Iilyavich Vesperia - Sevensheep

​

Anarchia had gone through a few of the places that were on the list with no results. None of the people at the location matched the description or picture from Iglesias' intel. Even worse, she had told the girl to set a time at around 00:00 to 00:30. Given that Iglesias called so late, not only was that not enough time to scout out and gauge the targets, it was barely enough time to find the woman. In frustration, Anarchia slammed her fist into the brick wall next to her, startling a few homeless people nearby. They stared boldly at the soldier before Anarchia glared them down with her sharp eyes. Needless to say, balls shrank and they returned to huddling in the corner. Time was wasting as she searched aimlessly. She needed more help so Anarchia gave Iglesias another call.

Can you be a bit more specific on the location? Its getting late and i don't want to make them wait.

Well, at this time, she should be on XXXXXX street ( no idea where you actually are). But you have till 10 dont you?

Wait.... ten? As in AM?

Wait.... uh oh i think i mixed up another one of your time and said 10 PM....

God damnit Iglesias! That means i am two hours late! Shit....

Im sorry Ani! i didnt mean to...

Anarchia could never really stay mad at Iglesias and this time was no different. Getting angry at her was not going to solve or prove anything and she was not willing to sour her relationship with her cousin for anything.

Never mind. Thankfully, i am nearby that next location. Was going to check it out next. Ill see if i can catch her.

It wasn't long before Anarchia saw someone walking on the street that fitted Miranda Lin's description.

175 cm tall, 50 kg.... Asian, natural black hair.... slender. Hm... that seems to be her.

While it was a good thing she found her middle woman, it was another to just run straight up to her. She was, after all, associated with criminals and a sensible dose of wariness goes a long way to survive. Scaling onto the rooftops of the nearby two story shops, Anarchia decided to observe her for a bit. Indeed, it did not take long for her to realise that this Ms Lin had slowed her pace down and was taking notice of what appears to be a young woman in a straw hat. It was very odd for this hour of the day.

Hm... was going to head down... but perhaps i should observe longer.

Already planning out potential paths they were going to take and her own in accordance to where Miranda might go, Anarchia employed tactical stealth skills to follow a target. She was in her element.
 
Levont Mires

Levont passed down a familiar street on his way back to his apartment. It reminded him of his first time here since he was driven here in a limo, kudos to the international program. He owed a lot to his unknown benefactors and he did not want to disappoint them. It also reminded him once again about the odd lady on the international flight over from Taipei to New Bedford. The way she mentioned how the wind favored him never ceased to confused him. That was the thought on his mind before he unknowingly crashed into another person.

He fell backward and looked up at the person. The guy had horrible fashion sense and the hat made it all more pronounce. That was not saying much since he knew next to nothing in terms of fashion. But what he does know that he dressed for functionality and that's what counted. Getting back up and making sure his grocery didn't spill out, Levont looked at the man.

"Thêm bài này vào nơi bạn đang đi. (Watch where you're going.)" Levont muttered before sidestepping the guy and heading to the building that she was in front of not knowing that his paycheck dropped when he ran into the guy with the straw hat.

He walked up two flights of stairs before he reached his apartment. Fishing his keys out, he opened the door and entered his apartment and quickly went to work restocking the fridge.
 
She had woken up late recently.

Taking to sleeping in hotels was never her plan. She had thought she would receive better than that. But no. She was only human after all. Not even harbingers of the future received special treatment it seemed. Then again, she wasn't doing this for the luxury.

She had enough money with what she had pilfered from the corpses in the warehouse to keep herself going for a very long time. She could have bought a house, but there were none near the warehouse. Only seedy motels, shopping centers, and more warehouses- empty, she had checked personally. As a result, she was forced to stay in the aforementioned motels.

The machine that was in the warehouse, not one mile away from her. She had felt attracted to it. She knew the dangers of being enamoured with things she knew nothing about, but the construct, which took what was put in and gave back pain alleviation, had ruled her mind and her emotions lately. Well, what emotions she had left, anyway.

The machine even ruled her dreams, which is why she had woken up. She had dreamed of a paradise; a garden filled with flowers and sunlight, where there was no pain. Her dream told her that this was what her discovery promised, and it warranted further research.

Perhaps if she gave enough people to the machine, it would open the way for her? And even if it didn’t, she was curious. What did that machine have that it would command such rapture over her? She almost wished she had kept a couple of the whitecoats alive for interrogation, but introspection was useless now.

Getting dressed in a scarlet dress that flowed to her ankles, and a white shirt and black leather coat with a ruffed scarlet ribbon around her neck, she pulled her hair back and let it flow to her back. Well, she couldn’t sleep. She would visit her project in the making.

The crisp night air reinvigorated her and cleared her head, and as she got closer, her pain abated more and more. Proximity to the machine seemed to have something to do with that, at least for her; only more proof that sacrifice to the machine could stop the pain.

The gargantuan construct was huge. A mess of wires, metal and doors in a perfect rectangle shape. It was five times as tall as her and ten times as wide, and thrummed softly at all times. Multi-colored buttons adorned the surface of the unfathomably complex machine.

With an unreadable expression on her face, she crouched, then sat down in front of the machine, not caring for the dust that gathered on her perfectly clean clothes. Her eyes fixated upon the machine; the thing that had come to rule her life recently. “Soon,” she promised, and sat there, not saying another word.
___________________________________________________



The pain had been particularly unbearable today.

Candice Blake resisted the urge to massage her head in public and kept walking. Her delivery runs today hadn’t had pursuers, thankfully enough. Otherwise she would have had some trouble what with these pains. The pains were mainly localised in her stomach and head. It felt as though she were sick, and it was always worse at night.

Of course, right now it was after midnight, so the pain had peaked. She thanked herself for her self-discipline. Her childhood self wouldn’t have been able to tolerate such agony. Luckily, she was made of sterner stuff now than she was then. She could take it.

With her jobs for today over, she made her way to a quaint little diner at an out of the way corner of town. Their food was rarely up to scratch but their coffee was top notch, and she needed a pick-me-up after all the running she had done. A natural night owl; she didn’t like sleeping until orange rays of sunlight broke the horizon.

The bell rang as she opened the door, and she caught the gaze of the woman behind the counter; late sixties and greying hair. Almost a landmark of a diner. The diner itself seemed to have at least five of these women as employees. It was almost disconcerting.

“Coffee. Black.” She said shortly, and then went to take her seat, ignoring the glare of the woman burning into her back due to her lack of manners. While she waited for the coffee to boil, she whipped a contact out of her black leather handbag, flipped it open, and looked at herself in the mirror. Out of the corner of the mirror she saw a red haired girl spooning soup into her mouth. The disgusting broth suited the girl perfectly; she looked worse than Candice felt. Straggly red hair, gaunt eyes, a pale face. She wouldn't get anywhere in the world she lived in.

Tch. Black circles under her eyes. Her skirt and shirt were ruffled from running, and a few strands of hair were out of place. Snapping the contact shut and stowing it away again, she returned to waiting. Her personal appearance was shoddy. This wouldn’t do at all. But now all she wanted was the liquid energy boiling in the background. She could smell the beans as they were ground and that alone gave her a shot of happy anticipation. Not that she would admit it, of course.

She hadn’t been sleeping well lately. The pain had been keeping her up, hence her recent transition into sleeping through the day and doing night runs; a shift in schedule her company had been all too happy to give her, what with the unpopularity of having only streetlights to guide you.

She supposed she could have…healed herself. But no, even the thought made a shudder of displeasure run through her. She wasn’t even sure how she would react if she was dying, never mind something relatively trivial and non-threatening such as this.

Pushing all thoughts of unnatural healing out of her mind, she accepted the simple white cup on an equally simple white saucer with a brusque “Thank you,” and began drinking. She had no time to think about minor things like this. Her life was hectic enough as it was.
 
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(Quite the contrary tipsy, my character is female acting male.. so hidden under the straw hat in a bushel is her hair, she tries to dress (flamboyantly ;D) down, and she has a rather boyish, straight figure to begin with. So it’s proper to assume from a distance, and even hopefully for a little while, that she’d be male. Henceforth, I shall address her as thusly.)

Ren followed the sidewalk for as long as it would take him, his brown boots making soft chomping noises against the thinly packed fresh snow. Thinking about this perked him up, always easily amused as if he were a child. He may as well have been, using it as a form of escape from the real life and all its horrors and dangers. Surely nothing would hurt a child.

“But… I’m not a child anymore.” The thought escaped his thin lips, forming for no one in particular except the void. The void was always a friendly individual, it never judged, held no prejudice towards anyone; everyone had their own void to talk to. The thought was abruptly interrupted when Ren felled into someone, causing their own greater misfortune than his own when they were sent crashing to the ground.

“Are you-"

He was about to extend a hand towards the stranger, offer some help in exchange for the dignity he inadvertently stole, but the stranger didn’t want it. He regathered his things, shot Ren a rather disgusted look, muttered something in a foreign language and then carried on. In a blur, it left him confused, wondering why a stranger would give him the stank eye like that. Did he smell? No, it was too cold to really notice. He noticed how the stranger focused on his hat a moment before leaving… was he dressed inappropriately for this weather? He never really gave it a second thought normally; sure it was winter and he didn’t have a coat, but it wasn’t explicitly blustery weather. But that’s the way he was; he dressed for no one else’s tastes, danced like no one was looking, and ate like he would always be hungry.

It didn’t matter, not to him.

Pressing on, a soft fluttering caught his attention. Looking down to find an envelope pressed to the underside of his foot, he had luckily caught a document of the stranger’s before it was lost to the wind. “Hey Mister! You dropped your-” Scooping it up hastily, he checked back, the stranger already having disappeared into one of the buildings behind him.
 
It wasn’t long after Alyss had gotten her soup that she noticed someone else walk into the diner. She wore a suit much like someone would wear off to work. From the looks of her she worked in an office. However, Alyss couldn’t be too sure. Normally, she wouldn’t have paid any attention to anyone else at all, but being out at midnight made her more cautious by default. The last thing she wanted was some unsavory character sneaking up on her and trying to rob her blind after she left. But the woman didn’t seem like much of a threat.

Alyss was just about to lower her head back down and eat more soup until she noticed what the woman did as she sat down and got her coffee. The woman was looking in a mirror and glancing at her. While normally, this wouldn’t be any problem at all… the look that she had given Alyss looked like one of pure disgust. Who is that woman, and why is she looking at me like that?, Alyss thought. Something about it didn’t sit right with her at all. Catching a glimpse of someone was one thing, giving them a look like the one the woman just shot her was completely different.

The look clearly didn’t sit right with her. Before she could even think about it or stop herself, Alyss stood up and walked over the table the woman was sitting at. She didn’t believe she was in any danger. The thought of another Holder or even a Seeker crossed her mind. She was far too angry to think to care. “Excuse me… what was that look for?” Her prissy attitude practically rang throughout her voice and bounced off the walls of the diner.
 
Lucille rubbed her eyes, tired of staring at the charts and proposals emailed to her for her job. She had been working since 10pm after waking up quite late and showering at 9. This was her new normal schedule, sleeping through midday and doing all of her work at night before venturing out in the morning to deal with anything that required daylight hours. Her employers didn't care, as long as her work was done with the quality of before, which it was. She was more productive at night anyways, vastly preferring the more easily manipulable darkness.

Signing the top paper with a flourish, she threw down her pen, shuffled the papers into a neat pile, and paperclipped the whole thing together. Work was simple tonight, just correcting an error made by a lower level manager, and now it was time for her to get out of the stuffy hotel room. Standing up and stretching her arms above her head, she grabbed the three button blazer off the back of her chair and pulled her long coat out of the closet, having glanced at the thermometer outside the window and seeing how cold it was. Grabbing her small purse from the bed and slipping her room card into it, she swept out the door and shut it quietly behind her, walking swiftly out of the hotel.

Striding down the deserted street quickly, Lucille was looking for a place to eat. Not much was open at this hour, but she didn't have anything left in her room. Stores were closed and she'd have to do shopping later today... no matter how much she despised it. After around 20 minutes of walking, she finally saw a lit diner. Wrinkling her nose at the shabby state of it, she pushed the door open and walked in, glancing at the other occupants. Two women in the beginnings of an argument were the only others inside, with the exception of the staff. Knowing it wasn't her business, she ignored them, even if she could've had some fun with illusions. She tried to avoid using her power for fun, however.

Instead she walked to the counter, ordering a coffee with sugar and toast with a bright, disarming smile before sitting down at one of the stools and crossing her legs as she pulled her PDA out of her purse and began going over her schedule for the next week.

((OoC: I crashed your party, don't mind me. Didn't know where to start. My writing quality's also shit, I'm doing this in between homework. Sorry.))
 
Tch. Great. The girl had noticed her sidelong glance, and worse, she was the type to object about it. Loudly. Normally Candice would have been able to hide her distaste a lot better, but it had been a long day, and her once over had been neither subtle nor quick. And she would have made a tactful reply and taken her leave, but the pain had impacted upon her ability to be succinct yet unimposing lately.

So she turned her head towards the girl; a single, elegant, and practiced movement, and looked her up and down once again. "I believe what I meant was perfectly obvious. I find your appearance"-her lip curled- "unsavory."

Having said exactly what she wanted, she returned to sipping her coffee, observing another woman who came in. Hmph. She was actually dressed with some decor, although her pretty little smile was about as fake as it could be. Not that fat clients and desperate customers would notice that. As she returned to staring at the table, she noticed the shadow of the other girl still over her.

"You're in my way," she said without looking at her again. "Run back home little girl."
 
If Alyss were just annoyed before, she was absolutely furious now. How could anyone ever say that she looked “unsavory”? She made sure she was well dressed. Even now her clothes were all top notch. The only thing remotely wrong with her was her hair. She hadn’t brushed it. However, she typically never did, and one thing she was always complemented on was how she looked. Now this… woman was sitting there telling her that she looked bad? Where did she get off doing this? Then to top things off she had the nerve to call her “little girl”.

Alyss had no intention of moving out of her way. The woman didn’t seem much bigger than her. “I will do no such thing until I get an apology,” she said coldly. She was far too confident in her own power to actually care about the concept of being hit or slapped. “You are rude, and I will not leave until you give me the apology that I rightfully deserve.”

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Lyra was standing up now as she watched the commotion below her. She lit a cigarette as she watched. At a time like this she had to be extra careful. While she didn’t care for the girl, she did need her unharmed. All of her planning would become useless in a fraction of a second if the girl was unconscious… or dead. Regardless of her power, she was still a frail little thing, but it seemed as if the girl’s temper matched her hair color. As she stood on the roof she made sure she would be ready just in case something happened.

Perhaps if she had to run to the girl’s aid she would be a bit more willing to help? It didn’t matter much… she would be helping either way it went.
 
Candice felt her brows furrow and her tongue click. Her irritation with this girl was showing, she knew. She needed to get rid of her before her desire to punch her outweighed her desire to stay under the radar. It was time to be a little less vague with the girl. Standing up, she glared down at the girl, who was a few inches shorter than her. Picking her coffee up, she sipped at it as though it would give her strength.

"Listen here." Normally her voice would be cold and calm, but her pain and fatigue made the carefully practised words come out as more of a snarl. "I don't have time to pander to your need for some pathetic self assertion. Quit wasting my time." Was it just her, or was the pain getting worse? Just her luck. The argument was making her migraine even worse. How quaint.

"I'm sorry I even wasted my time looking at you. Does that count for something?" Downing the rest of her coffee in a single gulp, she clicked her fingers at the old woman behind the counter."Toast. Low fat butter. More coffee. Now." The woman's glare could have frozen blood, but Candice ignored it as she sat down again and glared at the girl. "If you must hang around like a parasite, at least take a seat. Your curtains are blocking my view."
 
Levont Mires

It took a bit more time then he thought it would to put everything away. With everything all set and out of the way, Levont walked out to the living room. To be fair, the entire apartment was empty except for a couch, a 30 in hi def tv, a bed, an old wood dummy, and the basic appliances to live with. Walking over to the dummy, Levont took his shirt off and decided to start practicing on his martial arts. He slacked on it recently due to work and now he had enough time to get some in. He started slowly as his mind slowly eased into the motions. The pace soon quickly picked up as he got more into the training as sounds of fist pounding wood was heard. The harder Levont flowed into the motion, the more he zoned everything out. Here was his element. Here, in the process of busting a block of wood into splinters, he found his peace and nothing short of an emergency would have gotten him out of his mindset that he was in right now.


(OOC: Yeah. Boredom hit me atm.)

 
[OOC: Hm... Well, I guess I'll post first then.]

As Miranda came close, she got a better view of the person she had been following. He had knocked into some stranger and was just calling out to him as she approached. Shamelessly, Miranda stared at the person as she walked by him. She hadn't been wrong about thinking what she thought about his fashion sense. No doubt Muscle would agree this time and lay off her perhaps. However, she also noticed that for a guy, he had surprisingly feminine features. Not that it mattered, but it did rouse Miranda's curiosity about farm life.

With the unusual person now behind her, Miranda was again on an empty street. She shifted her focus onto the snow-covered ground that she tread upon, relishing in the sensation that she had yet to grow used to. Looking up at the empty street, and then across at a few more of the empty benches, and the empty park, she couldn't help feeling a sense of loneliness well up in her. That too, she had yet to grow used to. Her steps gained in intensity as she stomped into the snow without realizing it wasn't a thick layer.

Sighing softly, she eased the thought out of her mind as she focused on predicting what Muscle would lead her to do next.
 
Ren turned full circle on his heels, nearly slipping in the snow had he not planted the front of his feet at the right moment. But it was in those few seconds that he realized he almost bumped into someone else that night, a young woman, dark hair, olive skin, breezed by him. What was with him tonight? The first wasn’t entirely his fault, both of them weren’t paying attention to where they were going, but now he had nearly knocked into an innocent bystander, a woman. He may have been in disguise for all those years, but he had morals to uphold as a ‘man’, and that was to try women especially with dignity and respect.

Not realizing that this tradition may or may not have been upheld in today’s society, he still dipped in favor of the woman, palming the top of his hat as if to tip it off to her, but stopped, merely signaling a mere bow to her as she passed.

Once she passed by, Ren couldn’t help but noticed that she’d sent him a sideways glance. This was briefly met and reciprocated from beneath his hat, before he let the woman carry on her way. But as she did, he couldn’t help but wonder what a young girl was doing out at this hour on her own.

Carrying back on to the matter at hand, Ren looked to the document in hand. His eyes darted back and forth, from the buildings in the vicinity to the envelope. It had an address. Same street, second building from the… right?

He took a few steps, glancing back at the lonely woman once more, before he stopped to stand before the residence of the first stranger. A few steps and a door, locked obviously, keys only belonging to rightful dwellers. Again, he looked at the envelope and then took a step backwards, tipping his head back to try and spot an open window, or a… light on!

Sideways looks to either sides of the street occupied his eyes before he cupped his hands around his mouth and called out to the lone vigil. “Heeeeeyyy~!”
 
Levont Mires

“Heeeeeyyy~!”

That yell cut him right out of his exercise trance as someone yelled from outside of the building. He was not amused. Not at all. Going to the closest window, Levont looked outside and saw that same straw hat guy in front of the apartment from before. It looked like he was holding something, but he couldn't tell from the second floor after all. He regained his breath before deciding to speak to the guy.

"Bạn muốn gì bây giờ? Gah. What do you want?!" Levont yelled back down to the guy.

He might as well get the guy whatever he want before he woke up the neighbors and come barking at his doorsteps with complaints on the racket in the middle of the night.

 
The stranger spoke in a foreign tongue again, and he paused until he corrected himself. Careful to grip the envelope, Ren waved it in the air, drawing the man’s attention to the object.

“You dropped something, I don’t..” Trailing off, he lowered it, and looked over the document. Most important items like pay stubs and cheques were usually left blank on the outside, save for a name and an address to deter thieves. “…I don’t know what it is. But you are Levont, yes, so it’s yours? It must be important.”

He lowered his voice near the end, a light flicking on a floor above Levont. Their discussion wasn’t going unnoticed, and Ren hoped that they could deal privately without disturbing too many others.
 
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