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Post by Will on Jun 26, 2012 23:11:07 GMT -6
Fiction was fake. Made up. Exploited for interest instead of realism. It needed something to grab the audiences attention. Real things, boring things, are often ignored. Reality is not constructed in the same manner as movies or dramas, novels or manga. It was a fact. Things are planned so flawlessly with methodical precision in reality. Injuries can't be healed sometimes. People die alone. Stories rarely had a real happy ending.
The protagonists in the worlds where things were cool and optimistic, one day, suddenly, will find themselves faced with strange happenings. Out of their league, they sense trouble, and will find themselves placed in a situation which could hardly be called pleasant. Yet somehow they end up surviving. Maybe it's explained when they had some kind of training or specialty or some other excuse. A blessing that will cause both good effects and bad.
In the majority of cases, those stories' protagonists will, using intellect, bravery, and that hidden power, or through developing an unspecified talent, overturn their broken-down circumstances. They'll march tirelessly with a single goal in mind. "Save the world." "Avenge the innocent." "Bring back peace." Though thick and thin they'd form bonds with people they'd be forced to work with. Some played dramatic twists, but there was always a outcome where things mattered. The allies never die in vain. Rarely betray without coming back. They could be real people, but the choices made by them weren't always the option real people would chance. Then they accomplish what they set out to do and everything ends. There's no detail in the struggles after. No one wants to be bothered with the backlashes and repercussions that may occur.
However, those are stories which undoubtedly can only occur in the worlds where things were seen simply. And it's because they are fiction that they are consequently realized in the entertainment world. But Will wasn't some hero. He didn't have a writer and scripts settled in the background of every action to lead him. The breeder wasn't in those epic anime action series where the good guys always win. This was his real life with real-life murderers waiting to murk the life out of a person for shits and giggles or because the invisible man in the sky told them to do it. Any mistake could be Will's last where he would, without a doubt, lose his real life.
How he'd found himself in this situation, he wasn't fully sure. However, in hindsight it had been rather stupid and reckless of him. This was a gathering of trainers. That much was obvious and spoken plainly, albeit in the whispers that drifted along winds through town. Those whispers had unintentionally or not left out that this was also a challenge set forth by a group of power hungry individuals. The teen didn't want to chance becoming a slave, but before he knew it he'd been swept away by others. Some like him and lacking information. Others that knew full well what they were bound to get into and not caring. Good, evil, and unfettered. All with their own list of morals and set reasons that he'd never be able to comprehend.
The sewers were dark and wet, he was luck to have caught himself inn a couple of close calls where he'd almost fell. There was no room to look weak here. To do so would mean getting eaten by the man beside him. Almost shoulder shoulder he walked in a tide of newcomers following a maze-like path that left him utterly confused when he tried to call up directions. Deeper and deeper they traveled into the abyss, staring at it in anticipation of what was to come. What was more unnerving is that the abyss also started just as intently into them. It toyed with their emotions, played with their fears, and willed them to crack so that it may feed off the turmoil.
Will held a firm grip on his pocket knife and went out of his way to avoid brushing against those next to him. Sharp emerald eyes pierced through darkness even though they were partially hidden by a curtain of fiery red bangs. Eventually, the walking ground grew more spacious and lights became increasingly common on the walls. Then a battle ground came into sight. Glistening white marble that loomed over them, only sullied by a few blemishes that revealed blood battles having been fought there in the past. The breeder had the urge to take one of the smokes from his pocket. A stiff drink would have done wonders along with it. But he could allow himself neither. Standing out could only be a bad thing here. The nail that rose highest in the air got nailed down with the most force.
People began to spread out. Those that knew each other stuck to tight knitted groups. Wary glances were given freely. Will could only stand alone, cloaked in the shadows and back against the wall. Everyone here was an enemy. The teen would have to slip out when he had the chance, but for now he found the patience to wait as it was fueled by self preservation. He watch and learn, but deep down he knew he'd have to fight. These people didn't want weaklings with their goals so they'd weed out those they found lacking quickly and with ease. Already he had noted uniformed men and women blocking off the exits, much to his dread. However, having no windows at the moment, he turned his head to the battle stage and watched, waiting for the ringleaders to appear.
William Ryan considered himself a down to earth individual. But if that was so, why did his heart hammer with such excitement at the prospect of seeing destruction. The thought of pokemon fighting for the kill with tooth, nail, and elements made his blood rush and boil. The idea that maybe even he'd have to fight himself made him tense readily. This side of himself that he rarely acknowledged begged to be let loose...
And it terrified him.
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Post by ninjaastronaut on Jun 27, 2012 16:14:06 GMT -6
The marble flooring and the walls of people (including Josh) created what seemed to be a very different atmosphere from the rest of the sewer system. The smell didn't seem to mind. Josh was starting to get uncomfortable with the situation he'd put himself in. He'd thought that joining a team as seemingly great as Team Imum would give him a feeling of belonging, being a part of something bigger. This didn't work out at all like he had planned, and since he had joined he had only felt more remote, like an island poking out of a great ocean filled with self hatred. But he couldn't beat himself up now, he was standing right next to other members of the team, blocking the exit, trying his hardest to look tough. He knew that he was probably the weakest member of the entire team, so the least he could do was act tough. The waiting was absolutely killing him. Josh couldn't stand the expresionless look of the man next to him. It was as if he were no more than a figurine, or a mannequin one would find at a clothing store. Of course, he wouldn't dare try and test this theory. Instead of beating himself up or focussing on his "partners" He decided to focus on the various people bustling about the place. Some of which looked terrified, and others seemed as calm as they would be on any regular day. Josh took a momment to wonder if these people were simply playing it cool, just as he was. Were the other members around him also doing this? were they also filled with the same fear and regret as he was? It seemed unlikely. Regardless of the likelyhood, this idea seemed to make his island a little more remote. Then he heard something. He heard the sound of shoes against marble. He couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. The wait was over. The member next to him shot him a look and Josh quickly held his breath and put his poker face back on.
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Post by ♫~Leap~♫ on Jun 27, 2012 22:52:28 GMT -6
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This was, most likely, not what the woman had in mind when she was told to arrive in Veherna City immediately.
Of course, had this been the image that came to mind, she douted anyone would want to arrive at this place. Surely, the idea of walking atop a layer of dirt, grime, and murky water did not appeal to the average mind. If it did, there was something very wrong with that certain generation. Not that tettering on the edge of narrow walk ways, all while under the threat of slipping, falling, and landing into a tide of utter terror helped much. What was in that water? Honestly? Had it not been constantly moving up and down, left and right, she would have believed it to be mud blocking up the sewers. But, no. It might as well have been mud, however - at least she knew what lay beneath the horendous surface of that atrocity.
"These tunnels are almost vomit inducing," the woman declared, leading a small group of Team Imum members down the narrow walkway. She'd been down here multiple times in the past week, setting up preporations for this specific event. It was to be one of the very first and most important milestones in the organization's history and, therefor, required must attention from said organization's members. She had been down there so much, in fact, that even she, with her poor sense of direction, could navigate through the maze it provided with little to no difficulty. That was good. Getting lost in front of the people she was being forced to lead in the true leader's absense would be a sign of weakness and that was far from a good thing.
Though it may have sounded a bit like whining, Lorelei's statement was true. It was disgusting, the sewer. Everything about it was. The wet floors, the river of murk that continued to splash water in their faces, and the smell - oh, the smell was horrid! What could have possibly made such an awful stench? Whatever it was, she wanted it gone, blasted into oblivion where it's disgusting fragrence would never have to touch the insides of her nostrils again. A petite hand was lifted towards the space before her nose and, with a few flicks of her wrists, she attempted to shoo the smell away from her nose. It was, of course, to no avail. "Perhaps we should have coated this wretched place with air fresheners before we planned this tournament," she joked, though her tone was a thousand miles away from being what would call "light-hearted". "If I fall down with an illness because of this, someone is going to pay," she hissed, plugging her nose and pressing forward with a hightened pace.
A sudden change of lighting - though subtle - caught her attention after a breif amount of time speed walking and she skidded to a halt. Taking a deep breath, she mused how this area smelled much more pleasent then the rest of the filthy place. Good. If she had to spend more than fifteen minutes with that smell, she would likely faint. The area that sprawled before her was almost a sight for sore eyes. The floors had, for the most part, been cleans, glistening a white marble that was only dirtied by a few blood stains. How they had gotten there? She'd never know. Perhaps some of the grunts or elites had a scuffle while setting the entire event up, attacking one another and drawing blood. The open area was still fairly dark, illuminated only by poor lighting that had been hastily put up so trainers wouldn't be fighting in complete darkness, but it was made apparent that this place had been tidied up over the past few days.
"Hm," Lorelei grunted, fingers dusting the walls and recoiling as she found them slightly dirtied. "This place is not as terrible as I imagined it would be. I still would not wish to live here, but I don't believe I'll mind spending an hour or so down here for this... "tournament" of your's." The woman, though it may have sounded as though she were talking to one or all of the members present, was mostly speaking to herself, taking note of the whole area she'd be spending some time in. Turning to one of her fellow members, she demanded, "You made sure would go out, did you not?" The sharp tone she used was more out of force of habit than her truly being angry and them. However, if others did not see it in such a way, she had no problem with it. It would make her seem more tough, more authoritive, and possibly earn her a bit more respect. There was only time for the person to reply before she'd turned on her heels again and began scooting the area.
"So this will be the battleground, eh...?" Someone shouted out a yes, only to earn themselves a glare from the woman, shutting them up instantly. "Perfect. We'll weed out the weak and strengthen the useful here. I want you to dispose of all those who are two weak to even slightly stand their ground. You might want to take their Pokemon, however - those, at least, will be slightly useful." They were trying to free Pokemon anyway, correct? This would only help in their greater cause. "I'd assume, however |
[/color]," she muttered to herself, leaning back and feeling her back brush the wall behind her, " that at least some trainers would -" The sound of footsteps cut of her throughts and, for a moment, she believed that the authorities had caught word of the event and had come to put a stop to the madness. Her hand clutched Freude's Capture Ball, her finger not even an inch above the button that would enlargen and release the duel-type so he could be used in battle. However, when a swarm of ordinary trainers - faces hardened into scowls and glares and attire telling her these were some of the more rough and tough trainers from around the city - burst into the area. She took this moment to manuever through the growing crowd, signalling for the members of Team Imum to begin cutting off exits so no one would escape, and took her spot at a slightly raised patch of stone so she could see the battle area fairly decently over some of the heads that would otherwise block her vision. Icy blue eyes raked over the crowd as she tried to assess how many people had truly gathered here. Between the numbers fifteen and thirty, had she had to place a general estiment. Not to much that they attracted to much attention, but enough to make this interesting... She liked it. Already, the people had begun to break off into tiny groups, socializing with only people they knew. Well, all but one person. Fiery orange hair caught her attention and her eyes flashed to a lone male not to far away. Wait a minute... Is that...? There was definately something familiar about this particular teen but, however much she willed her mind to try and figure out why, she could not remember where she might have seen him. Curses... My foul memory never ceases to amaze me... she growled in silence, pointedly looking away. Reguardless, that's nothing to be concerned about. His face was probably on a poster I passed by not long ago, is all...Once she was certain that everyone had settled down - only one or two late comers were squeezing past the grunts that formed barracades - she cleared her throat and prepared to give the speech she had been working on rehearsing for so many days. " Greetings, one and all, and welcome! What a pleasure to see so many determined faces this evening!" she said with feigned excitement. " Today, we've gathered you all here to test the skills of trainers across the region. Only the best of the best will have the slightest hope of making it to the top tonight. Who will emerge victorious? I hope you are all as eager as I am to find out." Honestly, she could care less. However, it was her job to get the crowd excited, to grab their attention and make them stay. There could be possible new members of the organization in that group of people and she did not intend to let them slip out of her grasp. " As you may have already heard, we are holding a tournament in this very room. Please direct your gaze to the battle feild," she continued, her spider-like index finger pointed in the direction of said feild. " This is where you will battle, two on two, against on another. A double battle, if you will. It will be trainer versus trainer - the winner remains for their next battle and the loser is botted out immediately. The winner will be reward a special prize for their efforts while those who did not emerge victorious must go home empty handed." She prayed her inability to speak to large crowds was not shining through at that moment. " So, without further adou... Let the games begin! First two trainers - you're up." A smile tugged on her lips as two trainers - complete strangers to her - raced onto the battle feild and called forth two Pokemon each. Yes... This was going to be interesting... [/div] [/td][/tr] [/table][/center]
Normally, these were just the kind of outtings that someone in his position would have been advised to avoid.
Of course, that was precisely why he had intended to tag along for the bumpy ride that was certain to come of his decision.
It was all very simple, really - these dark events where innocent trainer was either forced to fight against another innocent trainer or a very not-so-innocent trainer would give him a better look into what really went on in the organization. Anything he could use against Nymah, this replacement leader, and every other member of the team would be one giant step - no, leap was a better word - in the direction of the organization's downfall. Whatever weakness he could pinpoint while everyone's guards were down would help out greatly in the long run. However, there was one major flaw in this idea.
These people lied as much, if not more than they spoke the truth. Ther poker faces were practically the expression they wore out of habit. Even if their guards were down, getting any info just from trying to read the people around him might have been easier said than done. And who was to say that they would let down those protective sheilds that blocked their emotions and thoughts? Perhaps people were more focused on looking tough in front of the others than watching any battles that my have been partaking right before their very eyes.
Ah, yes. That was right.
This "event" was a tournament of some sort to pic out strong trainers from the weak, convincing the strong to join their ranks and snatching Pocket Monsters from the unsuspecting. Who had come up with this idea? Surely not the woman Lorelei who was taking Nymah's position as leader in the blonde's absense - that woman had just arrived at base no sooner or later than a week in advance and hardly seemed like the type to come up with such ideas as these. Granted, he did not know her well, but leading an organiztion was most likely something she did not excell in.
Well, that was all beside the point. Garett had first heard of the tournament being held deep within the sewer systems beneath the city of Veherna was he was spending a bit of time within said city. It was a place that disgusted him - filth, darkness, and criminals, filthy criminals everywhere - but it was the closest populated area to the Team Imum headquarters and, when he needed supplies, it was easier to head their instead of to the next town over. Perhaps he wasn't supposed to have learned about the event - after all, wouldn't some of the higher ups back at home have warned him if he were ment to? - but he managed to catch word by listening in on a pretty nasty looking group's conversation.
It was at this moment that he decided to join in on this in order to, hopefully, get an edge on his own teammates when the time for battle arrived.
No one seemed to notice his presence as he slipped into the crowd of Team Imum grunts. After all, he was one of them. Higher in status than the grunts, but one of them none the less. The trip through the sewers disgusted him almost as much as the city above, a wretched smell flooding his nose and causing him to hold back the womit that threatened to escape the confines of his closed mouth. Due to narrow hallways, he was costantly bumping into others which earned him a fair share of glares and nearly sent him into the murky water that lapped hungrily at his brown boots. Personally, he'd rather recieve death glares than be tossed into the tide.
The time between entering the terrible place and arriving at the battle feild was much to long for his taste. However, when his blue eyes fell onto the white marble and a fresh scent hit his nose, the tiniest of sighs escaped his mouth, filled to the brim with relief at the site of something other than grime and filth. The Team Imum members scattered at this point in time and, unsure of where he was to be headed, the green clothed man did what he did best - blended into the background. They had to await the arrival of the trainers that would be participating in the tournament and, until then, he had all the time in the world to ponder his next actions.
All this silence is getting to me, though... he noted in silence, eyes raking over the area and strands of blond hair falling in his face. With a grunt - it was more out of amusement than anger, but anyone else would have seen it otherwise - he swept his long bangs to left and told himself that he needed a haircut. I'm going to start looking like a girl if I'm not careful... Wouldn't want anyone mistaking me fore a female, now, would I? These were words he would never utter aloud. Not in this crowd, anyway. The ton was much to light for the character he slipped into in order to fool his fellow organization members.
I'm tired of this act. I wish that I could just, you know, impale Nymah or something and get it over with. This was just a frivolous fantasy, of course; did one honestly believe that the man could simply waltz up to his leader and stab her with his sword? Maybe, if it had been someone other than Ny, he would have been able to. But the woman was a genius - anything he would be able to throw at her then, she'd redirect with her mind and leave him off worse than he was in the first place. No, he needed something to use against her, and it certainly wasn't a sword in the chest.
What's your weakness, Nymah? How do I get you out of the picture without being attacked by swarms of grunts or getting killed in the process? His blue eyes landed on the dark-haired woman in charge of operations. Lorelei, right? Yes, that was it. He'd have to get used to this one, too. The leader he'd grown used to would probably be gone for some time which meant that he'd have to get rid of the icy eyed wonder without anyone noticing. Seems simple enough, he thought with an inward snort. Not like she's ever at base, anyway.
But, with a new, temporary leader came new, not-so-temporary problems. He at least had a general idea of what Nymah was like, but this long-haired wonder was a different matter entirely. However, before he could think about it anymore, footsteps resounded in his ears and he found himself more alone than before. Suddenly, unfamiliar figures were swarming around him and his fellow grunts were no where to be found. Oh, no, wait. There they were. Gathering by the exits in order to cut them off in order to make sure no one tried to escape their fate. Flustered by the fact that he'd fallen behind due to his self induced trance, the sword and sheild-weilding trainer took his place next to, well, the first person he could.
His interest was quickly lost in Lorelei's words - it wasn't like he was going to be fighting at all, right? - and, instead, were focused on the shorter grunt beside him. Why was he so short? Were people growing shorter as the generations - oh, wait. Nevermind. It appeared as though this person what far younger. Well, not far younger. Sixteen? Seventeen? Eighteen? That was, what... Hold on, gotta count... Two... Four... Six or eight years younger than I am? And I thought I was pretty young in comparison to all these old farts that make up this organization...
[/color][/i] To have so one so young, especially right next to him, made him feel... old. However, he was not angry at this fact. In fact... Ohohoho! Look at me, growing up and becoming older than my fellow employees! I feel so honored to - oh. Right. Kid's got some evil in him if he's here with Team Imum. Means that I've gotta... That I might have to... Okay, Garett hated evil. Hated more than he hated Serah for leading him astray and basically murdering his parents. But... a child? Could he really take his blade and cut that boy down to the ground for all his crimes? But... I'm a member of this organization, as well... Does that mean that... I deserve to be cut does as well?[/color][/i] " Hey. Kid," he grunted, tone of voice falling somewhere inbetween his usual peppy one and the dark voice he used to match his dark deminor around other Team Imum members. These doubts he had... They always got him all depressed! " I might sound a bit rude, but what's someone like you doing with people like these?" Realizing that those words may have sounded as though he was challenging the organization, he quickly added, " I mean, Team Imum's wonderful and all... But someone of your age with us? I think you're biting off a bit more than you're able to chew..." WORDS;; 1638 words NOTES;; i was most certainly not trying to show off my rping skills to cheddar in these posts. lies. don't expect the next few to be anywhere near this long... TAGGED;; step as will, cheddar as josh. MUSE;; meh. [/justify][/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]
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Post by ninjaastronaut on Jul 22, 2012 19:56:58 GMT -6
This man had many notable features, but the one that interested Josh the most was his hair. He desperately needed a haircut.
Of course Josh had much worse things to think about than this mans hair. Like the questions he was asking. The questions that confused him; the questions that excrutiatingly, painfully, dreadfully confused him.
Josh felt himself getting warmer.
The quention itself wasn't confusing at all. "What are you doing with people like these?" It should be easy enough to answer, but these weren't the kind of questions he was asked my the regular member. Hell, he'd never even been asked something like that by a regular person. Most people would just let him be with anyone he wanted.
The horrid smell in Josh's nostrils began to fade. He almost let out a happy sigh.
Josh began to dig into his head, thinking of all the responces he could pull out of his head. He thought of totally coming clean, revealling how much he hated all of it, and that he only stayed so he wouldn't be on Team Imum's bad side. Of course, that didn't seem like a good thing to say to another member, regardless of how he put it. He thought of lying through his teeth, acting like he loved every bit of it, but he couldn't ever make that seem believable.
Josh felt a hot sweat run down his forehead.
He couldn't handle this pressure. He simply couldn't. There was no right answer to this question, and he couldn't just say nothing. He felt like crying.
He didn't of course. That would absolutely ruin his poker face.
By this time he had realized that he'd probably been standing around looking like an idiot for something like five minutes now thinking. This only made him more nervous, and the sweat began to pour from his face faster.
He decided there was only one thing he could do in this situation, and luckily for him, it was one of the few things he really exelled at. Stalling. "It's a long story, maybe we could talk about it when there isn't anything important like this going on."
All of these questions did get Josh thinking though. What was he doing here? Why did he stay with these horrible people? He decided that as soon as this terrible day was over, he was going to quit team Imum.
Of course, he wasn't going to tell anyone that.
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Post by Will on Jul 28, 2012 21:51:11 GMT -6
When a man is faced with danger, when hope seems lost and avoidance impossible, things become prioritized. Will's thoughts were simple, always keeping the main objective in mine. However, at the same time, they continually evolved into more. Branching out, diverging, mingling, but always with a clear focus. At the heart of his thoughts was "I need to get out". What followed after simply became categorized under "how". One could liken it to working one of those maze puzzles in a game book. Only instead of using a fair method, which was generally slow and time consuming, Will was doing something that was more along the lines of starting at the center of the maze and working his way out instead of in. Still, there were multiple ways to get out and Will was not sure which one was the best choice. Crossroads were everywhere and when there wasn't a pitfall or dead end might suddenly develop to replace it.
With a heavy sigh and a plan already forming, Will put on a mask of apathy. Which, given all things considered, slid over his face with disturbing ease. It was times like these were Will actually wondered if there was something fundamentally wrong with him. Sure, Will never failed to to be reasonable, to be fair. He tried to talk to people., made allies even. There were those that respected that. And then there were those that saw it as nothing other other than weakness. They'd listen to him try to be civilized and think, 'Oh, he's nothing.' 'Him we can ignore.' 'Him we can order him around.' 'We can do whatever we want and he won't stop us!' Because people rarely took him seriously. Adults always pegged him as some ordinary child that just came from his mother's teat. Those his age thought that any retaliation would be nothing more than a play of power.
They were the ones that suffered the most. They might have even seen him pulling their strings and they'd have no other choice, but to dance anyway. To underestimate him was a folly that he wholly tried to encourage. That way when he finally let loose all that...darkness welled up so deep inside him, carefully bottled and sealed, there was nothing they would be able to do to stand against him. So, yes, Will admitted that there was a good chance that his psyche was distorted in a way that would have professionals wanting to study him as a subject. He admitted it even if it was only to himself. Because in the end he was the only one that mattered. What is his, what could be his, and what was going to be his. And right now, he was going to get out.
So pulling a cig out of his jacket with a smooth innocent motion, he made a way to an exit off to the side. Will knew it was an exit because it was guarded, but he was already working on a way to get passed the two watching the door. Everyone had migrated away from this point. The other 'guards' had their own areas to keep an eye on and the destination he'd chosen had the line of sight cut from the groups that drifted eagerly to the middle of the area. He stalled when the woman on the stage finally came into clear view. She looked familiar for some reason. Still, for whatever reason, he didn't have time to sort through every individual he'd changed upon during his travels to pinpoint one distinct woman. He was more determined on getting out of this mess before everything hit the fan.
Will continued and as he drew closer the guard eyes fell on him. He could practically smell the suspicion wafting off of them. Even with the terrible smell becoming more apparent the close he moved to the sewers. Will stayed neutral, not caring but wary. He reached for his lighter while the other hand moved to give them a lazy half-hearted wave as he began to move passed them. He had to stop short when one suddenly stepped out in front of him.
Will didn't miss a beat though. "Stepping out for a smoke." He replied easily and pointed to the cancer stick between his lips. Will forced down the urge to tense as the man eyed him. The breeder could brawl, but two on one odds weren't good and it would attract attention No one had noticed yet, all intent on watching the battle play out but they would. The teen would have to be able to one shot both and make a break for it. Then there was still the chance they'd out maneuver him in the sewers. He stayed calm and waited for it to play out, no reason to act to rash.
To Will's astonishment, the man rolled his eyes and actually stepped aside to let him pass. 'Way too easy,' he thought, instincts flaring. Trying to hide his unease he stepped out into the opening and make a show of searching for a lighter while glancing out the corner of his eyes. 'I knew it." Two guards were watching. In separate spot, but within the sight of each other. Well not much choice other than just attempting to run for it now. The breeder was already well aware that this was a bad idea, but he made his way tot he guard closest to him nonetheless. "You wouldn't by any chance have a light on you?" He asked innocently enough. Then before any other reaction could be taken, a swift chop met the guard's throat. Will lunged over him and made a dash for any place that wasn't near here, not even stopping to check if they person was going to die.
Only to run into two more guards. A quick one two punch sent the guy on the left reeling, but the other promptly tackled him. He tried to fight back, but with the fist that cracked against his jaw it was a futile effort. He sighed as they plucked him from the ground and lit his cigarette. 'So much for that idea.' Seems he'd be seeing the center stage and under the spotlight sooner than he planned.
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Post by ♫~Leap~♫ on Aug 12, 2012 21:29:39 GMT -6
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None of them were especially promising to say the very least. It didn't take much for Lorelei to see this very obvious factor. One could easily tell by truly taking in the battles that were disaplyed before them that these young people weren't anything special and especially wouldn't be any use to them in the long run. Everything that they did could scream a number of things in even the most idiotic of minds, all to apparent through every motion that they took. What were these people doing in this sort of place, anyway, with absolutely horrendous battle tequniques, poorly trained Pokemon, and very little knowledge on timing one's attacks just right. These were the basics. If one didn't know the basics, what were they?
Novices. Fools who led themselves to believe that if they wore certain clothes, trained certain Pokemon, gathered themselves into pathetic and weak gangs, and called themselves strong as they faced society. There was nothing more to it. Their whole lives were lies and acts. Words and actions chosen carfully to protect one from the dangers of the outside world because they were to afraid to face it head on with a fist raised in righteous fury. But they weren't fooling anybody. They weren't strong. They could punch, kick, scream shout, spit, or glare, but, when it came down to it, they were all weaklings as individuals. Gathered together, they might have appeared stronger, but were they really any better off than they had been just moments before?
This sad, pathetic group of people made of the majority of the people who arrived. What did they think this was? A stage to preform their little play? An event to make themselves look higher and mightier in the eyes of every other soul in the area? They would surely go home bragging to their friends and family of how they participated and did "well" in a secret, underground tournament. These were the worst kind of people to be attracting, certainly. They couldn't even be used efficiantly as puppets and toys in her ultimate goal. Then, there were the ordinary people who were curious as to what was going on or were caught in the tide of people and dragged in against their will. Among those were the young children who were to afraid to do anything and could not effectively feign a dark expression to conceal their true emotions.
This was why one did not really on flyers and word of mouth to announce a very important event such as this.
You were rewarded with all the wrong people and none of the right.
Another battle ended in a close call, both Pokemon quite worn from the long quarrel and panting heavily. With the results as they were, one would be lead to believe that it had been a wonderful battle between two excellent trainers. However, as much as she wished it were true, Lorelei had to admit that this was not how the scene had gone. Instead, both trainers were equally poor at battling and had only ended the battle in what almost appeared to be a draw by dragging out a horrific challenge for much to long for her taste. The only decent trainer's battles ended shortly and she was never allowed to assess the true skill of each half decent person.
It was beginning to get on her nerves, to be entirely honest.
"Just how long do you presume this is going to take?" The brunnette's head leaned in the direction of one of the nearest grunts and the worlds spilled from her mouth with little to no consent. She truly did feel that way - impatient for the end due to the fact that no one here looked as though they'd be able to put up much of a fight when it came down to a true encounter with the enemy. If there was someone out there worth her time, they were doing quite a fine job of hiding themself from her and keeping their presence known. The grunt leaned closer to her in turn and muttered something about how it would be over soon and to remember why they were holding the event in the first place.
He didn't need to remind her. She wasn't a moron like the majority of the people present. She'd helped out in the plotting of the very tournament they were attending. Without her assistance, in fact, none of this would have been occuring at all. This grunt knew nothing about what was going on if one was to compare the leader and the follower and, therefor, he had no right whatsoever to be telling her to do things such as "remember why they were there". Frivolous imbicules. Thinking that they were so much more nobal and wise than their elders due to their youth and over inflated egos. Each and everyone of them made her want to vomit.
Letting out a sigh and wondering why on earth she hadn't thought of bringing a chair with her to sit down in, the Team Imum leader - well, temporary, mind you - chewed on the inside of her lip and tried to focus on things other than how terribly aching the legs below her frame were. Such as how boring and uneventful the scene before her was. Just two more rookies pitted against each other in an utterly pointless display that did not appeal to her in the slightest. "This is such a bore," she muttered to herself, eyes wondering around the room to focus on something. Anything would be more entertaining than watching a sad match. Of course, there was not much in the sewers to look at and she found herself slightly pouting in her own little form of self pity.
And then, something caught her attention.
It appeared that the vaguely familiar child that she'd spotted before - oh, she could still not bring herself to match a name to the face - was slipping around unnoticed through the crowd. The woman also noticed that the exit was not far from where he was and the distance between them was closing. There was no way that the guards would let him out, though, she realized, and relaxed slightly. He'd be faced with every grunt in the room if he attempted that manuever. However, much to her surprise... they did let him by. Quite easily, in fact, strolling aside as though she herself had commanded they do so. She did not take action, however, wanting to watch how the scene unfolded from afar.
It didn't take long for him to run out of sight, but the sounds of commotion from down the hall told her all she needed to know about where he was and what was going on. Heards turned, necks craning and eyes hungry for knowledge as they wondered what on Earth could be happening. Then, as suddenly as the noises started... they stopped. Either the mystery teen had managed to crash through all of the stationed guards and was making a mad dash for home - which was very unlikely, unless he was a super human, or something of the sort - or said guards had managed to hold him down. If that was the case, they'd be carrying him back and throwing him on the ground for every eye to see.
And, boy, was she spot on.
A good two, three, perhaps even four Team Imum grunts and elites were either holding their new found "prisoner" or following close behind to make sure that he did not make a mad run for it. The battle had stopped abruptly, both trainers commanding their Pokemon to stop their attacks as many heads turned to watch the one who'd dared to try and escape. It was quite the site, indeed, was it not?
Lorelei wasn't angry that someone had made an attempt - reguardless of whether it was futile or not - to escape the confines of the tournament area. She was... intregued that someone had managed to outsmart or beat their way so far and almost made it out. And... slightly happy. Glad that someone had challenged the rules and was much more entertaining than the idiots that had been presented to her earlier. This boy could be useful to their plans... or not. She'd need to see how skilled he was in battle before she jumped to conclusions.
"Let him go," she ordered, face almost emotionless to try to hide her relief that this wasn't going to be a complete waste of her time. "You. Boy. What's your name?"
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The prospect of someone as young and innocent as this boy being part of a villianous organization like this made him sick.
Honeslty, everything about the organization - it's means, it's members, the fact that it was an obsticle that he had to, at all costs, tear to the ground - made him sick. Not like the awful stench of a good old sewer was helping much in the situation that he'd been trown into. The location was a perfect reflection of the people that worked in the group themselves. Like the room they were currently lined up, they seemed plenty fine on the outside. However, dig deeper into what their true means are and what they're truly like could use the grotesque waters and grim everywhere as examples. It was really a sickening thing.
As the words that he'd said left his mouth, the black-haired child beside the blonde seemed to grow slightly nervous. To anyone else, his expressions could have looked as steely and cold as ever. However, when one was standing directly beside him and paying close attention to what was going on, they would be able to see the obvious gestures that were given by someone who was feeling just that. Nervous. Alright, he would admit it - his question was a little off. Thought provoking and downright strange. It wasn't as though anyone had ever walked up to him before and asked him things like that. If they had, how would he answer?
His true intentions would be ridiculously obvious if one could break through the barriers of his head and be able to successfully read his mind. He just wanted to destroy the organization and restore the land to the peace that everyone still believed they had. Joining their side was simply to understand the thought processes of its members and to find out secret battle plans that, with enough skill, could be foiled without anyone knowing he was sabotoging the whole grand scheme of things. But he'd never be able to tell someone that. They'd believe him to be the traitor that her, quite frankly was and either bring him to Lorelei or kill him on spot. So. What would he say?
He honestly had no idea.
Perhaps the trainer would give them an answer like any ordinary member would give them. "I joined to grow stronger". "I joined to right the wrongs of society". "I joined to save the Pokemon". "I joined to have a sense of meaning". Probably the first one. It fit with his supposed "personality" the best. But this factor only made him think about another problem. If he lied so easily, lead everyone to believe that he was someone he was not and tell them that he joined to grow stronger instead of what he truly joined for... couldn't this person beside him, the recipiant of that very question lie just as easily to him?
Oh, goodness. Why had he not thought of this before? Garett felt utterly and completely stupid now that he'd realized this factor. Could he truly believe the nondescript child if he said something along the lines of one of the responses he, himself, had thought up just moments before? Whether it was true or not, he doubted he'd be able to do so. His mind would tell him that there was some alternative motive that he was missing out on because he asked an idiotic question at the absolute worst time he possibly could. He was already feeling awful about being there at the tournament. He didn't want to feel poor all over again for asking the wrong thing.
"It's a long story."
The words snapped the man out of the trance he hadn't even realized he'd be in. Blue eyes flashed to the mystery grunt by his side as he tried to fathom whether or not he'd been the one to say that. They continued on, "Maybe we could talk about it when there isn't anything important like this going on?" Well, that certainly cleared up any confusion of who the voice belonged to. But that was not what lingered in him mind the most out of all that had been spoken to him. No, not at all. It was what he'd said diretly in responce to "what are you doing with people like these?" It's a long story.
It wasn't out of greed that he'd come here? Not to punish or save a certain race? Nor for a sense of meaning? Well, it could have been one... or all of the above for all he cared. However, they had not chosen to flat out lie to him about their answer and that - that alone - caused a great deal of relief for the green-clothed Team Imum Elite. The person was... interesting, he supposed. Dispite his cold stare, he felt that this was a person who would not be entirely terrible. And everyone else - even himself - was glaring at nothing in particular, anyway. They were all just masks to protect what they were really thinking about the event.
"Well, then," he said, voice slipping back into the slightly cruel sounding one that he always used around other team members. "I suppose I'll have to hold you to that." This meeting could wait, for all he cared. He didn't care in the slightest about what was going on. None of the battling trainers seemed very skilled at battle and their Pokemon were, for the most part, poorly trained. There wasn't anything to gain from this, he knew, so there was nothing that he truly needed to pay attention to. After all, hadn't that been why he was focused more on his own thoughts and the teen beside him rather than the ordeal going on ahead?
However, Garett's mind was thrown out of the gutter ever so violently when sounds of a scuffle not far from where he stood caught his attention. Blue eyes widening in utter shock and head wipping around like many of the others to try and see whatever was causing such a ruckus, he was sad to find that he could see... nothing. What was going on? A stray Pokemon attacking some of the guards? Someone falling into the water and being swept away just outside of the tournament area? A smirk lit his features as the thought. They probably got what they deserved, huh? he thought to himself with an inward laugh. Showed them right! But, when the problem finally came into sight, he was sad to notice that it was not a Team Imum member who was attacked or washed away...
But a runaway.
He and the guards that lead him into the main room looked quite beat up. They had probably been throwing fists at one another, explaining the multiple injuries that they'd all aquirred. A mixture of sadness and pride washed over the blue-eyed trainer at the scene. Proud that someone had made an attempt at getting away from these terrible people and pained that he had not managed the run out of the place. He's certainly in for it now... he said in silence, smirk twisting into a slightly pained scowl. Nymah would have had them rip out his heart and eat them alive for sure...
But this wasn't Nymah. This was Lorelei. So, instead of sicking each and every other person in the room at the boy with a head of fire, she instead ordered that the grunts put him down and sked for his name. He wasn't sure to be greatful that he had been spared of being ripped to shreds or ashamed to work for someone who seemed so cowardly.
WORDS;; 1312 words NOTES;; *fumes* I can't write anything over 1350 words, can I? DX TAGGED;; step as will, cheddar as josh. MUSE;; meh.
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Post by ninjaastronaut on Aug 13, 2012 16:56:51 GMT -6
"I'll have to hold you to that."
The words reverberated through Josh's head, staying in his mind, he couldn't focus on anything else. When this was over, he was going to have to get out, and fast. The very last thing Josh wanted to do was talk about this to somebody, especially a member of the team. Even more so, especially not when he was planning to leave the team. He couldn't afford to leave any evidence, or things would get sloppy.
Then something did the impossible, and took his mind off of it. The muffled sound of voices echoed through the sewers, along with the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Someone had tried to escape. With every fiber of Josh's being, he wanted to look back, to go see what was happening. He pitied the poor fool, honestly, it's not like anyone was told that they weren't aloud to leave. He would probably be killed, tossed into the sewer waters with broken legs, beaten to death by grunts, or something of that matter.
With all of his might, he kept himself from looking back, from showing emotion. It hurt, honestly. The amount of focus it took to keep his body from turning, looking, changing expression was so great that it physically hurt his body. It was like a kind of torture, something so horrible that only something as evil as Team Imum could muster up. There was nothing stopping him from looking, from turning around, but they'd had Josh trained like a dog, so he couldn't turn. His own brain was forcing him to go through this pain, and it was all their fault.
His pity for the man who had tried to escape stopped. Josh no longer pitied him, but his pity was replaced with an anger so harsh and flaming that it hurt Josh even more than before just to stop himself from hitting the guy next to him. Team Imum had trained his mind to be used as a self torture device, they had sucked him into a gang while making him think it was all going to make his life better, and they had attacked this man without even telling him that he wasn't able to leave. And he hated it. He hated the whole damn organization, himself included, and he wasn't going to put up with it anymore.
Well, he didn't want to, at least. But for now, he had to stay standing, he couldn't leave, he couldn't take off his mask of false emotion. Why not? Because he didn't want to die, of course. At least, not here, not now.
He had only just realized that everyone had stopped. The battlers had stopped, the trainers and such had stopped talking, everything was like it was on "pause." Funny, he'd been staring this direction the whole time and didn't even notice.
The man who'd tried to escape was on display, on the ground for everyone to see. Much to Josh's surprise, he wasn't dead. He wasn't a mangled pile of bones and meat. In fact, he wasn't that roughed up at all, and Josh could only spot a few bruises from where he was.
Not even thinking, Josh said out loud, "Heh, I thought they were gonna kill 'em." Josh felt extremely awkward, everyone in the room must have heard him over the silence. He quickly reapplied his poker face and hoped everyone would think the grunt next to him had said that.
"You. Boy, what's your name?"
What was going on? Josh only hoped they weren't going to pull him up front to kill him. He wouldn't be able to keep his straight face if he were forced to watch that.
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Post by Will on Aug 15, 2012 19:41:00 GMT -6
Will tried to shrug off their arms. The breeder was caught there was no denying that, but he wasn't some circus freak to be paraded around. They held firm and forced his arms tighter behind his back. These guys were having none of that. They didn't want to give him any chances to slip through. It wasn't like they had four of five of them escorting him. Will would have needed pokemon blood in him or be some fighting prodigy to lay waist to them now. Fighting them would draw out every guard in the area. He was smarter than average and could fight, but this was out of his league. Still, he took a bit of amusement out of them being so wary of him. Them trained criminals, scared, nervous, and nursing bruises and such from a teenager.
The men didn't drag him, he walked into the eyes of all those present. Every person picking him out and sizing him up. Will walked with even steps and his head forward. Maybe he was too stupid to be afraid now, only annoyed and angry. One of the rift raft got a bit. too close to his liking so Will aimed a breath of smoke straight at his face. It sent the guy coughing a step back. Will would be damned before he let that guy turn this into a public execution. The rest of the all had enough common sense to give as much room and possible for them all to walk.
Just what were then expecting? What kind of person did they think the young breeder was to risk not only escaping, but to get into a fight with some of the guards? Will briefly wondered if he could rally them into rebelling. Get them so hyped up that they'd cause a riot. No, everyone would still be too intent on him. Besides, they didn't seem like a bunch to step out of line. For all he knew, they wanted this chance. Most of them anyway.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity but what could have only been a couple of minutes at most, they reached the stage. Marching up, Will steeled himself, he closed himself off in both mind and body. This wasn't a time for fun and games, it never was honestly. Strangely enough, fear fled from him. He couldn't feel much of anything anymore. It was an odd mercy to his mind. For all intent and purpose, the breeder should have been terrified. However, he couldn't bring himself to feel anything. Everything had merely been bottled and shoved away to the back of his soul in the deepest depths that could be reached even if he didn't want to grasp for them. All of this because one of these grunts had managed to get in a lucky shot on to stun him long enough for him to be overwhelmed.
Too late for berating himself now though. He needed to think. All eyes were on him and he needed to come up with a plan B as soon as possible. The men behind him pushed him before the woman he'd seen earlier.She was definitely the one in command. He shrugged off his captors' arms and moved to flick the ash from his cigarette. Maybe he could take the woman hostage? She was right in front of him. It was crazy and daring, but he was quickly running out of options. However, before he could even think to do so she asked him his name. And called him a boy which almost had him lash out at her, but he held himself back. Staring at her calmly, he moved for another drag, but was interrupted by a man behind him.
"Show proper respect!" Will lashed out on instinct toward the guy that moved to hit him. Catching the man's hand while kicking out his legs from under him. The others seemed to hesitate from the sheer ferocity he displayed. Will was not a happy person, but he was normally docile. Right now though. He wanted to breath smoke and destroy a beautiful work of art out of sheer spite. So calmly, he nodded. "Of course, my apologies." Then the breeder proceeded to put out his cig on the man's forehead while watching for any sudden moves. "Wouldn't want to smoke in front of a lady now would I?" He quipped over the man's startled yell and held fast as he squirmed.
Feeling as if he drove the fact home that he was still dangerous while cornered, he let the man crawl away and turned to the boss lady. "Ryan. And I am no boy." The words seemed to bring about a sense of deja vu, but he ignored it in order to stay focused. The breeder's mind was already trying to come up with multiple scenarios for escape. And he had a couple, but now he needed to stall everyone. "May I know who's asking?" One would think that he was having a friendly little chat over tea.If not for the underlying danger that permeated the area, Will was sure he would have even sounded pleasant. His eyes were emerald glaciers as he bore into the woman's seeking any weakness he could use to his advantage. The slightest crack and he'd break through her and her army. Even if he had tear himself up in the process.
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Post by ♫~Leap~♫ on Aug 25, 2012 17:53:51 GMT -6
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There was a strange sense of deju vu floating through the air, humming in her ears like the wind would in the outside world. But there was no wind today. Not underground, of course. Just a wave of puzzlement and irritation that washed over her, going hand and hand with the sense of similarity this occation was presenting to her. She didn't have Altziemer's desease or some other form of dememntia, no, but her memory always seemed to be failing her and at the most crucial moments. It was as though there was a small voice in the back of her mind telling her - no, rahter warning - her that she'd seen something from the scene before her befor and to cautious of it, but an almost soundproof wall only let small murmers of those screams into the rest of her concious to be processed in her head. Her words, themselves, held a familiar ring. But who on earth had she said them to? And why were they coming into her mind at this time, of all times? It was rather bothersome indeed, if she did say so herself.
The woman tried to recall a time when any of the factors going on had come to play in an earlier time in her life that would spark this sense of familiarity. They were in the sewers, for starters, but had she ever been there? No. But her house reeked of desease after her father left her family for dead, creating a similiar - if not worse - smell to the one they were experiancing the place at that moment. Someone had tired to slip away from the dangers that awaited him. She herself had never run from anything. Even as a young child, she would stand up to the children who tormented she and other children, labeled with a childish term known as "bullies" and attempt to ward them off with her fists. Of course, she'd been beaten down every time, but that did not prevent her from fighting back time and time again. But she did remember a time when she'd cornered the very man who'd left them for dead, watching him struggle, flail, and try to find a way out of the mess she'd thrown him into while she slowly plotted every single way she could torture him to make up for his crimes. He had made a run for it, similar to this fiery-haired teen. He had been caught, similiar to this fiery-haired teen. He had not been forgiven and was struck down immediately, putting every plan to watch him slowly bleed out to a hault before her very eyes. Not similiar to this fiery-haired teen, certainly. Trying to escape something as frivolous as an underground tournament did not boil such hatred in her blood as he had.
Even know, her delicate fingers curled into what one would call and fist, unfurling, only to curl up again at the memory. She tried to tell herself that her teeth did not clench behind the protective cover of her closed mouth. But her mind did not believe her own words and the bones in her mouth continued to glide against the tops of the ones above and below them respectively. Remembering that she had no need to grow flustered over past occuarance - they were just that, after all. In the past and out of her way - the brunette instantly called herself and threw herself back into the frenzy of trying to discover why this scene was so similiar to one before it's time. It had nothing to do with her dieing mother and sister in a home that smelled of garbage and vomit. It had nothing to do with a corrupt man who'd been sent to his grave by his vengful daughter. But it had to do with the runaway before her very eyes. Now, all she needed to do was figure out how. She would not be satisfied with herself until she knew the answer to this question. IT was beginning to grate on her nerves then more than ever and brushing dust off of the rarely used gears of her mind. It didn't take much effort for her to figure out the most simple of solutions and answer, of course, but this one had truly stumped her.
Eventually giving into the fact that the answer was to far away for one to reach and grasp it, Lorelei, instead, focused her attention on the boy who was dragged towards where she stood. No, not dragged. That was an inappropriate word for the situation. Rather, "carried himself" would do better. After all, by the way he walked, it was obvious that he had either given up on running away and decided to stop putting up resistance, had some back up plan to attack her straight on, or just simply didn't want to be humiliated by letting those "beneath" carry him to what could possibly his death. Either way, she was beginning to take a liking to the teen who brought a sense of similarity to her, dispite the fact that she was silently raging at the fact that her memory had, once again, up and failed her. A smirk - small, but a smirk, none the less - tugged on the corners of her mouth as she watched him stand before her, giving nothing away to what he could have been thinking or feeling at that moment. If he was feeling or thinking at all, that was. It was hard for even someone like herself to tell... which was saying something. He remained silent, shrugging of fthe grasp of the grunts and tapping ashes off from his cigarette - what an awful habit, certainly - and the Team Imum leader felt that it was not her place to speak, either. She did not know this person. Well, not well enough to remember him perfectly; just enough to recall seeing him somewhere... What was she supposed to declare? "You have tried to escape. Therefor, we must do away with you." Again, she was many things, but a murderer was not one of them. ... Usually. She'd rather this person left a lasting impression on her before she banished him to whatever world one came to after their death. Then, she wouldn't feel as bad about doing away with him.
An immidiate answer was not given to her - not something she expected about being in charge for as long as she had, even if that wasn't very long at all - after asking for his name. Instead, a grunt behind him grew angry for some reason, shouting, "Show proper respect!" Had he done something rude to her while she'd gone off to some make believe land of her's? Whatever the reason, the person who'd whooted moved to throw a punch in the other's face. With much skill, the green-eyed male maneged to grab the man's arms and knock out his legs from under him, successfully knocking him to the ground. There was a small wave of awe that passed through the crowd, though the woman was not fazed in the slightest. "Of course, my apologies. Wouldn't want to smoke in front of a lady, now, would I?" he said, words seeming to drip with sarcasm as he pressed the cigarette she hadn't noticed he'd been holding to the man's head. Still, she remained silent. He'd proven that he would not hesitate to attack if approached. Congratulations to him. Now what did he plan to do? Make an explosive exit and escape unscathed? He wasn't an idiot, she could probably assume, so she doubted he'd do anything of the sort. So what else was there left to do...?
"Ryan. And I am no boy."
Ah, there it was. The much anticipated answer to her previous question. She'd been wondering when he'd give in and tell her. But, with this statement, more deja vu swept over her and she found the scene becoming more and more familiar. The words to spill from Lorelei's mouth next were thrown into her head with much more haste than they usually would have, almost as though she'd watched a movie one to many times and could quote it all by heart, reciting every line almost to a "t"... with some minor alterations, of course. So, in reponse, she played along with a smirk, still trying to pick through the depths of her subconcious for an answer to her questions. "Quite the name, I'd have to say. How did your parents come up with a name such as that?" She was absolutely certain now that she knew this person. Oh, how much she wished she could remember the details... "May I know who's asking?" His next question caused her grin to widen and, instead of answering him with a straight forward answer, she decided to smother him in sarcasm for a bit. "Why, me, of course. I'm no messanger, as someon like you could probably already assume." After a moment, she thought it better to just get on with it and try to pry more information out of the boy. "But, if you must know -" pausing and wondering just how smart it would be to let out her name to someone who could use it against her, she quickly uttered the first name that came to mind. "- Frieda. Frieda is my name." A pang of guilt washed over her for using her most beloved sister's name in the form of a fat out lie, but she quickly rebuilt her composure, not wanting anyone to peek into the depths of her mind. "Also, please refrain from attack any more of my men." It was an order, not a statement. "As you can probably tell, you are greatly outnumbered and I would hate to have to send you home in a body bag... I'd prefer that this little... chat of our's stays as nonviolent as possible. Wouldn't you agree?"
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Post by ninjaastronaut on Aug 26, 2012 15:23:44 GMT -6
This guy- Ryan, was it?- was one scary fellow. The way he took down those guys... Let's just say Josh was glad he was standing far, far away from him. Josh wouldn't stand three seconds against this guy.
Anyway, Josh was glad the guy wasn't going to be killed. In fact, it looked like just about the opposite of that. The way that this mystery man and woman were talking, it almost seemed like they were having fun. Could it be that they knew each other? It was possible, but not likely.
He was also kind of glad those grunts got beat up. Odd, being that he was one of them, but he felt like every member of this horrible organisation should be beaten to a bloody pulp, at least once. Even in his own thoughts, this list of people who deserved to be brutally mauled still included him. He felt some deep guilt for the things they've made him done as a part of the group, and even though he'd never directly killed anyone, he knew that by some chain of events he'd caused someones death. Getting money to buy some sort of horrible torture device, or at least that's the picture that ran through his head whenever he was forced to rob some old man in a corner store.
Josh shivered. He never liked thinking about this kind of stuff. Depressing things that always only made him think about more depressing things. Yet, this was something that was hard to avoid in the perdiciment he'd put himself in.
-WIP (again)-
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