|
Post by "Unfettered" on Jul 16, 2011 2:45:28 GMT -8
The Messenger There was a man who pushed himself with great strain up the slow, unused sidewalk. The sun was glaring in a most difficult manner as the man in the wheelchair continued to plod along, setting up his chair's emergency brake lever whenever the the work became too much for him to just sit there and gasp.
He was an odd fellow, wearing a black overcoat, black pants, a white shirt with a black tie, black work shoes, and a black fedora over his head. All that seemed notable about him were the teal tufts of hair that stuck out from the sides of his hat. The hat itself was far too snugly wedged down on his cranium that his eyes were not visible.
On the umpteenth break, the man would pause, look at the address again as well as the googled destination's instruction. Looking up, trails of perspiration collected and rolled down from his chin onto his neck, sticking to the collar.
The man gritted his teeth in annoyance before pulling at the lever again, hunching over and bringing his black gloved hands over the wheels, rolling himself forward, past the sealed iron gate."...Of course..." this man cursed to himself darkly as he pressed his way to the the abandoned bank with the fork at the top.~* * * * * * * * * * * * * ---Looking down with the darkest look on his face possible, this man looked down into an incredibly sketchy, dark hole in the ground and the stairs he would have to traverse down to get to godforsakened place for this---"...Stupid girl..." he muttered irritably. to himself.
Hugging the handrail to the side, the man gave himself one last breath of air before--- OOC: Up to you if you choose to have her interact now or if you just show her what she's doing up to this point. Either way would be incredibly informational.
|
|
▲
"your hide will make a fine poncho." |
PLAYED BY OOC NAME
|
Post by Vespyr on Jul 16, 2011 7:35:26 GMT -8
The ‘House’.
Summer afternoon; as usual, it was too hot to sleep comfortably. Neither could she bring herself to leave the house because of the intense heat. Vespyr was trapped within her own lair.
She’d been lying in bed for the past few hours, dozing—her eyes were closed, and she was elsewhere. Her mind was roaming the surrounding streets, tracing the sounds of cars and birds and people as they passed and faded away. Nothing seemed to linger in this place for long. Likely due to its wasted, hazardous appearance, the abandoned lot was condemned. The only humanfolk that dared enter were the homeless in need of shelter, teenagers with a sense of morbid curiosity, and miscellaneous drug addicts, gang members, and ‘questionable’ folk who, no matter how sketched-up their appearance was, still seemed out-of-place here. Those who did venture inside never lasted long, whether it was their own fear that drove them out or the overseeing dark force that pulled them in.
The force was at work now—listening, Vespyr could supervise the area without ever leaving her cave. Whether she was listening for something in particular was debatable. The amethyst eyes opened slowly.
Someone was approaching.
|
|
|
Post by "Unfettered" on Jul 16, 2011 21:00:05 GMT -8
Paraplegic Persistence The man sighed to himself. Annoyed.
With a strong push on his right wheel, he pivoted himself about---almost too strong, his entire chair leaning backwards for a moment, threatening to fall backwards. Immediately, his left arm shot out to catch the pillar-interior side of the stairwell's entrance, counter-pushing himself to face forward. Visible drops of sweat were apparent of the nape of his neck as he shook his head, fighting down the fluster that had welled unexpectedly in his abdomen.
He bit down hard on the left side of his lower lip, musing to curse the situation as a whole with a sharp bark, but resisted the notion. Resting his gloved hands onto the top of his wheels, the man pushed himself further down the parking ramp, careful to keep in complete control.
---The thought of just letting the structure's increasing slope was mildly amusing (to which he would only begrudgingly admit to), but unlike with any other mode of transportation, he had no real way of steering. That, and making hard breaks on his wheels would only tear apart his gloves and therein rub raw the palms of his hands.
As if he wasn't incapacitated as it was...* * * * * * * * * * * * * Darkened and smelling of a mild rank of the day's endeavors thus far, the man rested for a moment, his form slouched forward, breathing raggedly. He entered into the opposing parking structure, fenced off, dark and looming as it was. The fence itself was bent inward to the empty parking lot. While not necessarily easy, the man had pivoted his chair backwards onto the thing. He had fallen over backwards at least four times, before he had further bent the metal fencing enough to be trail-worthy.
There was just quiet, exhausted breathing to be heard in the entire area, echoing from the man.
His breath echoed against the graffiti of the surprisingly colorful walls, suggesting the area was frequented with late-night visits from the city's less upstanding citizens. Dirty bedrolls lay in varying areas of the vast emptiness, syringes littered the floor, empty spray cans rested where their perpetrators had left them...
Off to the small entrance way to the left was a busted down locker, forcibly taken from a school, years of rust resting on it.
What was most surprising, however, was the bed of flowers that lay close to the middle pillar, in between the two fences of the entrances/exits of the structure. It would be impossible for this bed of flowers to be purely coincidental---the lacking amount of foliage about the parking lot suggested at least the transportation of several miles... and perhaps in more then just one box. These flowers had long since died, but had scarcely spread about due to the structure's resilience to the wind. Perhaps a lover's bed? An artist's fling? A farewell to an old friend?
A spirit dwelled here, besides its supposed only permanent resident. It frightened the man.
The jaw and lips of the man remained stoic as finished observing this new area, however. He would slowly, reach to his left side for something, a metallic clicking resounding throughout, disturbing the unnatural peace, inviting danger. That done, the man wheeled himself forward. He unflinchingly ran over the right-most portion of the largely gathered bed of flowers as he proceeded to the next fence on the area's exit to the final structure.
His hands and back ached just thinking about it.* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Arby's.
The risk of heatstroke was high. Reaching to his right on his seat, the man pulled out an already hot bottle of water. Without thought or concern, the man used his left hand to pull off his hat, revealing a bed of matted down, teal, hat hair.
He would pour all over himself as he sat, the steam from the evaporating water rising high up into the sun-filled air. Unceremoniously, he would throw the bottle to the side. His chest was heaving through the entire process, vexation threatening to blind his only left eye---
---A small stream of blood flowed from beneath his right eye socket's eye patch. Cursing inaudibly to himself, he forced pressure over the patch with his right eye, before he wheeled himself forward with his free hand, crashing slightly into the front door.
He would slam the palm of his hand onto the door, irritably banging the place with his frustration."VERDAMMIT, WHY COULD DU NOT LIVE IN AN APARTMENT?"
|
|
▲
"your hide will make a fine poncho." |
PLAYED BY OOC NAME
|
Post by Vespyr on Jul 16, 2011 21:34:20 GMT -8
'Greetings, Old Friend~'
Throughout the entirety of the man’s epic struggle, Vespyr lie on her bed with a most sadistic grin on her face. Several times she had to stifle her laughter so as to not drown out the sound of the man’s labored breathing and the occasional slip-up of the wheelchair. She found it amusing that he gave so much effort…
And at last, he was at her door.
Vespyr sat up and pushed the sheer black veil aside, slipping off the bed quietly. She plucked the most threatening knife from the rack on the adjacent wall and left the room wearing something of a smirk on her face… but that disappeared as soon as she opened the door.
The front door would swing open with alarming speed, revealing a very furious-looking girl holding a menacing, blood-stained butcher knife. She wore a black tank top that cut off above her midriff, black cargo pants, and combat boots, as usual—but an unusually terrifying visage was there to greet him. Her violet eyes were absolutely smoldering with rage as she glared down at the weakened German, her breath hissing between her sharp gritted teeth.
“How dare you show up here?” she hissed, swiftly raising the heavy blade up over her head, ready to bring it down—
|
|
|
Post by "Unfettered" on Jul 17, 2011 14:25:12 GMT -8
A Messenger Rewarded--- The man had not expected a warm welcome, but the moment the door opened with that look of indescribable rage was the moment his danger sensors shot through the roof.“How dare you show up here?”She raised her weapon over her head---"---NEINDON'TKILLZEMESSENGERDUSTUPIDBITCH---"Completely panicking, the man's arms flailing in the air in protest, the man accidentally began to lean too far back and fell in a heap, in his chair. His arms initially went to ease some of the immediate pressure that greeted the back of his head, before pushing to a stop in front of his face, as if to slow potential attack, if the girl were so inclined to attack his face.
His hat had fallen off, revealing a---
|
|
▲
"your hide will make a fine poncho." |
PLAYED BY OOC NAME
|
Post by Vespyr on Jul 17, 2011 18:32:46 GMT -8
Entering The Cave
—into the top of the door frame the knife collided, wedging itself into the cement with a shower of sparks. Vespyr’s face changed dramatically the moment it struck; the rage was lost and replaced with a rather placid expression, almost boredom. She gazed silently down at “Teal” for several moments in order to allow his initial shock to pass, and then glanced nonchalantly at the weapon embedded in the wall above her. A ruined blade now, but it was worth it to witness the man’s panic play out at her feet. She could allow herself a moment of ludicrous fun every once and awhile…
The corners of her lips were raised just slightly in the quickly fading ‘good humor’, but that aside, she seemed rather serious. Without feeling an ounce of guilt she turned her eyes down again, dropping into a crouch and extending a hand toward the German who lay in a heap before her. If he took her hand she would promptly stand, simultaneously stepping down on the footrest of his chair while pulling him up to tilt the chair and its owner back into an upright position. Once this was achieved she would walk around behind him and give the chair a firm shove through the doorway, letting him roll slowly across the bare cement floor while she made an observant glance about the outside and then closed the door.
Inside, the door shut, her guest would find himself in near-darkness. After a few moments, if his eye adjusted, the walls were visibly covered from floor to ceiling with etchings made in charcoal. Some depicted vast and lonesome landscapes, while others were merely conceptual drawings of miscellaneous creatures. One wall in particular was devoted solely to the latter; across the room on the left parallel wall was a series of particularly macabre sketches of something resembling a large cat. The beast was only muscle and bone with gaping eye sockets, sharp teeth, and limbs that were unnaturally long and lean. In the center of these drawings was one in which the cat-horror was posed sitting on its fleshless hindquarters, facing out from the wall as if it were patiently waiting and watching—the black holes where the eyes should have been seemed to stare at “Teal” in a most disturbing manner, and would appear to follow him about the room wherever he moved.
In the very center of this room was a shallow pit surrounded by slabs of broken concrete and large rocks; inside, merely heaps of ash and a few unrecognizable black bones, dimly lit by a hole in the ceiling directly above that was half-covered by a sheet of metal. Further on, cutting directly down the center of the building, a hallway, to the right of which was a long counter and a few bar stools. Behind that there was an open doorway to another darkened room, supposedly a kitchen. There seemed to be no windows anywhere at all. Light trickled in from the cracks between the wood panels that had replaced the broken glass on the front and back doors; it was enough to see, but not comfortably for anyone but the girl who was accustomed to low light and pitch darkness. To resolve this issue Vespyr picked up a long piece of PVC pipe and stood by the fire pit, jabbing at the metal sheet that blocked the light from pouring down the makeshift smoke vent in the ceiling. Upon shifting it off to the side, a glaring ray of light fell down into the pit and made more visible the rest of the room, though it caused the girl to wince for a moment.
She would take a short step down from the concrete slab and toss the pipe off into the corner of the room.
“No fire during the day.”
She looked over to “Teal”, her violet eyes inspecting his disheveled appearance thoroughly with a hint of cold concern.
“…as if it’s not hot enough already, though. The shade will do you some good. Take off your jacket. You don’t know what kinds of horrible things I’ll do to you if you pass out.”
|
|
|
Post by "Unfettered" on Jul 19, 2011 18:42:08 GMT -8
*Cough* Rolling Along... A further cadre of mixed shouting and stifled yelling occurred as the other German continued to shield his face in the advent of his death when...
...
Five... four... three... two... on---"...You..."
"...You bitch." Dawning realization of the prank that had occurred... at the price of the man's dignity. The heavy, quickened breathing continued as the exhausted man glared with one steely eye observing that slight smile that the girl was giving him as though the whole thing was "funny." Perhaps to Vespyr... but not to "Teal."
She extended a hand towards him, offering an obvious gesture to aid him.
He loathed that hand.
However, without the smoothness or enhanced upper-body facilities, he wriggled at her feet in vain as he sat in the chair for a good thirteen seconds. Growling in defeat, the man reached out his hand to clasp hers. However, as she backed up to right him, the man would nearly fall forward and out of his chair. Realizing this at the last moment, he gripped his left armrest with his left hand and hung onto both for dear life.
There was a heavy *CLUNK* *CLUNK* as the chair bounced roughly on the ground."!---"There would be no chance for "Teal" to mouth Vespyr off in eloquence German before she would go around to his back and give his chair a deliberate push, making the man cringe as he slunk his entire body into his seat, grumbling as he rolled into the seemingly perpetual darkness...
There would be a pause, where the man would attempt to slowly ease his hands back onto his wheels to turn himself about before the door closed."...'Oh, ja, missing an eye, that's not so bad---'---Verdammit, woman, vat are du, a cave troll?"The man spat out the last line to his side in angry vehemence of the whole situation, obviously not happy to be here at all. It would take him in both his physical and self-induced condition a good five minutes before "Teal's" eye would begin to see with even the smallest trickle of light his surroundings to make note of anything. The more he saw, however, the more he seemed to cleave himself further into his chair, his hands and arms slowly retreating into his lap. This area was unknown, the girl's behavior to the man himself in the past had been less then amiable to say the least, and right now... he was in her domain.
He would not admit to feelings of fear.
He didn't need to.
For him to be completely comfortable would be out of character of him, to say the least.
Least of all with that growing, dark eye that seemed to envelop "Teal's" sight. For a moment he could almost swear that the skeletal feline drawing had licked ever so slightly its chops at him with a dark shadow of a tongue---or perhaps it was just the ever pervading darkness playing tricks with the smallest quantities of light in this room.
"Teal" would stare at it continually to numb himself for courage's sake. And when that too proved fruitless, he set his eye to make note of the rest of the largely "yet-to-be-observed" area.
...
All things considered, it was a very "nice" set-up.
---Not that the man would give her the benefit of a single praising word.
Single praising---"GAH, MEIN EYE."“No fire during the day.”The man would reel in his chair, clutching his face with his left hand, as his right hand would slap onto the very edge of his armrest, clutching it in fury.“…as if it’s not hot enough already, though. The shade will do you some good. Take off your jacket. You don’t know what kinds of horrible things I’ll do to you if you pass out.”"Hmph."There was more then a little timidity in his voice at the thought, his rather voracious imagination stretching himself thin, his face visibly paling in the sunlight---with many droplets of sweat. His rank was not pleasant. Scoffing with annoyed consent, the man slowly heaved his body into an upward sitting position as he would bring his arms up and about to take his hat off and onto his lap. He would then proceed to slip off his jacket and fold it nicely, placing his hat on top, before pressing too, with increasing difficulty, his dark pants off. All was folded and set neatly onto his lap, before he would wheel himself slowly towards the front door and set his clothes neatly there.
"Teal's" revealed body was clearly malnutritioned or failing to take in a large majority whatever sustenance he consumed. His broad shoulders waned, drenched in what little sweat his body could afford to spare, shrunken and bitten into with the sands of atrophy. What great strength that may have existed formerly in the past was evident now in the complicated array of scars that layered one on top of the other. In turn as well, he wore only a black, buttoned vest that seemed to hold his back in place and equally formal looking set of buttoned, black shorts that ran down to his knees, though made of a softer material.
His shoes he kept on for decency's sake.
On his face, however, was a level of defiant haughtiness that retained every bit of his former glory, the contempt on his face biting into the rage of his current state. And to Vespyr, "Teal" had no trouble wearing his proud, arrogant face as he leveled up his eye at her."Du knows... why Ich am here."
"But du does not know why."Matted, teal hair was swept away from his eyes, steam floating off into the air as the man proceeded to visibly cool down, his sweat running cold. His elbows remained on his armrests as he brought his hands to interweave together, pressed against his lower lip."Are du ready for his instruction, Vespyr?"
|
|
▲
"your hide will make a fine poncho." |
PLAYED BY OOC NAME
|
Post by Vespyr on Jul 19, 2011 21:35:06 GMT -8
Friends Close — Enemies Closer.
He was... exactly how she had expected him to be. She had, in fact, counted on him being this way. “Teal” glared up at her with his bitter pride, his vehement displeasure aimed at her like a bullet that she could feel sinking in even before he pulled the trigger. But it passed right through her. She gazed down at him with cold and uncaring violet eyes as he finished undressing, barely noting his atrophied appearance; she knew that no matter the state of his body, he would not change. He was on the inside.
But still she loathed “Teal” as he loathed her. They were to be comrades but they would remain enemies. For the sake of the mission, though, she had to put the fact aside—there couldn’t possibly be progress made if they were constantly at odds with each other. That’s why she counted on his stubborn anger toward her…
…so that…
…She wouldn’t have to show any at all.
As “Teal” was speaking, Vespyr did a surprising thing; she sat down on the ground before the seated man’s feet so that she was looking up at him. The bitterness about her own cold stare had faded into nothing but an attentive gaze as she listened to him closely. There was nothing at all offensive about her attitude toward him at this moment—completely out of character for herself, yes, but completely intentional. If it took two to make a fight, Vespyr no longer offered herself as an opponent.
"Are du ready for his instruction, Vespyr?"
With a passiveness to neutralize his acidity, Vespyr nodded, her gaze never wavering lest she might miss something. But deep in her eyes, there glinted a wicked sort of grin—and deeper within her hidden hatred, she was laughing at him. [/blockquote]
|
|
|
Post by "Unfettered" on Jul 20, 2011 23:02:09 GMT -8
Missing Interlude(s) There was a discreet quietness of understanding that weighed heavily on the air.
The man in the wheelchair wouldn't even have the sadism to enjoy the elevated position of power he was in as the girl sat down before him, in spite of their differing physical conditions. To anyone else, it would appear as though an establishment of hierarchy, rank, and order had been established, that Vespyr had somehow allowed herself to be included towards.
Perhaps.
But the teal eye that bore into hers looked with an almost indignant rage that his body nearly seemed to shake, a stark contrast to the cool embodiment of the ocean that Vespyr was, the shade of the room seeming as though to swallow the both of them up. Past grievances were not easily forgiven, after all. Not by this man.
"Teal" wheeled closer to her where she sat, stopping abruptly a foot in front of her, as though disgusted by the thought of even becoming an inch closer to her."Gut. Listen vell...---"* * * * * * * * * * * * * ...
...
LOG MISSING.
...
...* * * * * * 1 Day Later * * * * * * ~Two Days Before "Fate"~ Blood still ran down his lower lip, much to the teal Nazi's chagrin. This was accompanied by the sounds of the seemingly beat-run spit that the man would make to his left side, away from his compatriot as he "led" her on, down the alleyway to one of Militia's old, abandoned car shops. He was dressed in his S.S. attire again, though no less sickly in appearance. In fact, the rough tightness of his clothes only helped to display his state versus enhancing a normal person's display of strength.
Quietly, he would reach to a small side compartment as he leaned towards Vespyr, handing her a small, black suitcase."All of it iz documented here. We've equipped ze building properly so that du can help recreate all of zem. Ich need to make sure his final 'training' is... thorough."He nonchalantly brought up a weak hand into the inner walls of his coat, pulling out a scalpel before handing it, butt first, towards the girl."Make him sing for me."---
As he spoke, the door to the abandoned car shop opened, revealing, "Unfettered," with a curious, if surprised smile on his face."...Guten tag---"
|
|
|
Post by "Unfettered" on Aug 21, 2011 15:27:54 GMT -8
One More Day Later ~1 Day Before "Fate" [/i]~[/b][/center] * * * * * * * * * * * * * And with that, "Unfettered" awoke.
Leaning abruptly, his left hand bringing the covers over his waist, he looked at his body... covered in bandages. He blinked at them. Aside from such bandages he was scarcely clothed.---
---The German suddenly fell backwards onto his back, the exhaustion of yesterday once again hitting him. His eye went wide as his whole body writhed underneath the sheets. Small grunts of pain emitted from deep in his throat as his teeth ground against each other, his body scrunched in too tight as the base of his spine. He lifted his pelvis into the air, his stomach expanding and deflating as his low, punctual grunts escalated into a quiet hum and erupted into a roar.
There was no way a man was expected to endure this sort of hardship for the sake of anything.
But he had to.
He had to.* * * * * * * * * * * * * The German walked into the Car Shop's outfitted kitchen after having dressed himself accordingly in a white t-shirt, blue jeans, white socks and black sneakers with an eye-patch to cover up his left eye socket.
The usual.
There, he would find breakfast waiting for him at a small, brown table with three chairs at it, one purposefully missing.
"Unfettered" looked up at the clock. It was about 10:47.
There was a level of grit in his eye as he walked towards the table to "enjoy" a meal of scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, and a cup of coffee. For some reason today, he had the desire to take it black.
He would end up burning his tongue several times.* * * * * * * * * * * * * "Teal" finished putting away the last piece of equipment for last night's "intensive training session" in the garage after taking about an hour to tend to breakfast. He pushed himself up and off his wheelchair, awkwardly adjusting his hips as he attempted several times to get his feet to lock into proper place. He, of course, had woken up at around 8:48 A.M., with a very tended to S.S.-esque uniform on him, carefully maintained.
Rolling his way out of the garage took a few more minutes before he would go over to the damned girl's room. There was obvious contempt laced on his lips as he pulled his hat as over his eyes as much as humanely possible. Having properly dehumanized himself to hide his overtly exhausted eye, the man gave several raps to the girl's door, lest she still be asleep.
If she wasn't, for her sake (in "Teal's" mind), she had better have had the decency to stay and finish her job. After all, the "boss" had a privatized reward for her services... and to properly arm her for the time ahead. Whether she opened the door or not or was forced to find her through some other wayward way, the response brief and staccato."Fraulein Vespyr.""Breakfast."
|
|
▲
"your hide will make a fine poncho." |
PLAYED BY OOC NAME
|
Post by Vespyr on Aug 21, 2011 23:26:33 GMT -8
Well Good Morning To You, Too...
A shard of morning sunlight was cutting harshly across the darkened room through a gap in the curtains, creeping slowly across the carpet toward the bed.
The bed was made; in fact the sheets had never been disturbed in the first place, only indented slightly beneath the body of the girl who lay on her back with her arms limply at her sides. Sleep was something that may or may not have occurred last night this morning; Vespyr’s eyes were open and fixed on the ceiling when “Teal” knocked. Her face, which was downcast in quiet contemplativeness, did not change even as she was summoned, as if she hadn’t heard him at all, or didn’t register the meaning of his words. Or she was simply ignoring him.
Nevertheless, the door would open two minutes later to reveal Vespyr, who was dressed rather typically in black jeans with a spiked belt, a black tank-top that zipped down the front, her black trench coat that reached down to mid-calf, and of course, the three-buckled steel-toed boots. Hanging from the collar of her top was a pair of simple black-framed sunglasses with violet lenses. As she quietly closed the door behind her, her dark violet eyes darted furtively down the hallway in either direction. Her pale face was, rather typically, though it was less typical lately, cast in a grim but otherwise candid demeanor. She made her way silently toward the kitchen and would walk right in without so much as a glance of acknowledgement at “Unfettered” or “Teal”.
If there had been food prepared for her, it would go untouched; it was only the coffee that she was after. Coffee and a cigarette were breakfast enough. She would pick up the nearest cup of coffee, or pour one for herself, prepare it, then lean with her back against the kitchen counter, facing the table, her legs casually crossed. A sharp violet gaze would meet the first eye it saw and sustain a rather emotionless look for a few moments while she pulled a black cherry clove cigarette and a matchbox from her pocket. She looked down as she lit the cigarette between her lips, then up again, extinguishing the match with one subtle flick of her wrist. Her arms crossed comfortably.
She would stare at either one or both of the Germans until words were spoken. [/blockquote]
|
|
|
Post by "Unfettered" on Aug 23, 2011 0:40:46 GMT -8
OOC: NOPE. "Clack Cherry Cloves" "Teal" wheeled himself around to the empty spot on the table, his face nothing more then a dulled emotive for constant irritation. His gloved hands immediately went for the fork and knife---and cutting all of his food into very regulated, strict squares.
His coffee went untouched for a long while before he finally lifted a lofty hand toward it, pulling in the small mug close and pouring a small amount of half-and-half cream to brown it ever so slightly. He watched as "Unfettered" voraciously went through his food at the sight of him, how he stopped when he was caught staring at Vespyr, and how his eye finally looked down, as if in shame.
At this, the man allowed himself a small chuckle, at his leader's expense.
Still, "Teal" looked over to Vespyr's untouched plate after the brief moment, irritation lacing over his lips again.---And then the smoke came. It was a mildly sweet, cherry---
*COUGHCOUGHCOUGHCOUGH---*"Clack Cherry Clovez... Vonderbar.."*---COUGHCOUGHCOUGHCOUGH*
"Unfettered" watched with mild amusement as "Teal" doubled over at the table, coughing violently, while he himself was seemingly unaffected as he breathed in the smoke... even willingly. The suffering of his close companion brought out a smile in the German's face and he looked over to Vespyr with a now dignified nod."Today, ve shall arm you. Follow me."The German pushed himself and the chair back, slowly standing himself up. It was a priority to get this done. There were a vast number of other priorities to be tended to afterward, especially with the assembly. He gave "Teal" a knowing glance, at which the man in the wheelchair stared back at him darkly."...Leave your dishes here. Ich vill tend to them."...Bitter?
The man would wait for a time as he finished his own breakfast, before wheeling himself around, collecting the dishes and empty-placed mugs---while grabbing Vespyr's untouched plate with his left hand. It would find itself in seran wrap and in the refridgerator in under five minutes, unless Vespyr had anything to do with it. In the meantime, "Unfettered" began walking to the door, with a... nod of appreciation, before he would beckon Vespyr to follow.
After a bit of walking, "Unfettered" and Vespyr would find themselves in the re-outfitted car shop's garage... but with a particularly untouched locker placed at the opposite end, behind a length of a table. He would look back to Vespyr before he himself walked forward to the locker, whipping out the variety of different boxes.
Slowly, he would begin to open them all and place the contents on the length of the metal table, placing them all down accordingly. All of them could be refitted and modified to fit her. They were useful in that manner, aside from other things...
After all...
These were all of his items he was offering."Go ahead, ask about any, take any."
"Take all of zem, if you vant.~"
|
|
▲
"your hide will make a fine poncho." |
PLAYED BY OOC NAME
|
Post by Vespyr on Aug 23, 2011 2:09:59 GMT -8
Cold Shoulder
Vespyr’s head tilted apathetically to one side as the coughing ensued, her cold gaze sliding casually over to “Unfettered”. Her thin eyebrows would rise slightly as he spoke, a subtle hint that she was paying attention to him and none to the other. Subtle, but obvious. Obviously, she was going to be a snarky bitch to “Teal” today. But when was she not?
As she passed him followed the other German out of the room, a rather lovely cloud of smoke would linger at the table.
Back in the garage, her violet eyes scanned the clean room; not a stain left over… Hmm. She walked, in no hurry, over to the table where a plethora of items were being displayed. When the German said she was going to be armed, she had expected weapons—weapons which she would have turned down anyhow, since she had already brought her own. But there were things here that could still be useful, she supposed… The vest, being somewhat bulletproof, was something she considered taking. While it wasn’t essential, for she’d been shot to death before and was still walking, it would certainly buy her time; trying to fight while bleeding to death from several bullet holes was an effort that never lasted very long.
As well as the vest, she would take the two rings for no real reason other than that they were aesthetically pleasing with a nice shine. A minimalist, perhaps, but she felt that she was already well-prepared for tomorrow. Vespyr picked the thing up from the table and tossed it over her right shoulder, the collar hooked over two long fingers.
“Is there anything else we need to do?”
She raised the cigarette to her lips as she said this, giving “Unfettered” a blank, if not bored, look.
|
|
|
Post by "Unfettered" on Sept 18, 2011 1:35:04 GMT -8
Departure To Ambiguity “Is there anything else we need to do?”It would start out small at first, but a very "Cheshyre Cat"-esque smile would slowly begin to sprout across the German's face---within realistic boundaries."...Vell, to be honest... Ich vould love to test out ze results of my training on du...~" he began with a very strange smile on his face."But it vould not be prudent to initiate such a test while Ich am not 100%... und vith 'ze day of reckoning' so close at hand."The German would proceed to put away all the gear, his hands knowingly putting them all away gingerly as old ceremonial things of old. Items of power, for whatever ridiculous reason. As he did so, though, "Unfettered" continued to muse."It vould be too risky to try to 'acquire' resources from ze police, so ve shall have to make do vith our lower quality gear..."
"Du can go home for now. Sharpen your blades, stretch, write your last vill und testament... feed ze catz one last time... vatever du need to do to face tomorrow vith no regrets."
"If you do go back, meet me outside at six in ze morning on ze day of. Othervise... if du stay, get some R&R."The German shrugged.
Life. Death. The plan was set. She was already informed, thanks to "Teal." All that was left was to prepare as best as they could...
...And prepare for the day's complicated tango with the devil.
|
|
▲
"your hide will make a fine poncho." |
PLAYED BY OOC NAME
|
Post by Vespyr on Oct 3, 2011 14:29:05 GMT -8
And Now I Take My Leave
Vespyr stood aloof, her agile fingers examining the rings that lay in the cold whiteness of her palm. She seemed to hold no particular interest in the German’s sarcastic proposal, merely hovering on her side of the room like a shadow for a few moments longer while he began to put away his belongings. As soon as his back was turned, she silently vanished as if into thin air.
Having left “Unfettered” in the garage, Vespyr returned to her room and set the new items on the bed. They would be forgotten until tomorrow. The rest of her things—just a plain black back inside of which were her clothes and who-knows-what-else—would be gone from the room and so would she. Had they not known her better (or perhaps, they truly did not) it would appear that she had ditched out on the operation. But she had left the window wide open; a gesture that, in Vespyr’s strange and seldom translated language, implied that she would soon return.
|
|