Van
Trainee
Nutrition Facts:
murder
Posts: 82
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Post by Van on Dec 24, 2011 11:09:42 GMT -8
*~Merry Armageddon! (and a Happy New Year)~*
Format:
Collaborative (You and a partner work on one collaborative post that takes your characters through the entire event. That means you’ll have to coordinate with another person OOC to complete this. You may participate a maximum of two times, with two separate partners, if you wish.)
Reward:
+3 EXP and $700 each
Scenario:
It’s that time of year again. Despite the fact that the world lives now in fear of the evil overlord Sean Barker and his horrifying Experiments, and there’s terror in the streets as the fabric of a stable society burns to ashes, and no one can seem to get their hands on any of that tasty eggnog to celebrate with, mostly everyone seems rather undaunted, and even a bit merry this holiday season. What the hell is eggnog, anyways? :D
All is not lost. As long as mankind holds onto its traditions, the population will be united. As long as people exercise good will, there is hope for humanity. As long as the holidays are around, they will still be commercially exploited and clichéd. Unless, of course, there really is no hope at all for the people of planet Earth and they’re all just biding their time while exchanging useless gifts that won’t make a difference in the long run.
But whether or not the brighter future is truly just a pipe dream, everyone seems to be rather joyous this season. (Well… almost everyone. Some choose not to wear rose-tinted spectacles.) Perhaps you find yourself in the company of old friends and family. Perhaps you intended to spend the holidays alone this year. Perhaps you’re completely unaware that it’s that time of year at all, and are pleasantly surprised when somebody hands you a neatly wrapped box with a bow on it. The choice is up to you: how will you celebrate the season of peace and joy in a world of chaos and fear?
Requirements:
- 750 word minimum each participant (1500 word total)
- Your character must interact with someone. This can be another PC belonging to you or someone else, or an NPC belonging to someone else.
- Your character must acknowledge the holiday sentiment somehow (by celebrating, most likely.)
- There must be an exchange of at least one gift.
- You must mention what your character has been up to since Barker took over.
- Be creative and have fun :D
This Monthly Event ends on Friday, January 20th.
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Post by "Unfettered" on Jan 13, 2012 18:25:14 GMT -8
An Overabundance of Christmas Spirit
A few hours before "Unfettered" and "Teal" were to part ways in the underground hiding of Vespyr's underground base... "Unfettered" approached his "compatriot" who sat in his wheelchair..."..."* * * * * * * * * * * * * "Teal" would been seen wheeling around in a circle, around the bonfire... an antsy look on his face. He had been stuck in Vespyr's underground for the past few days, since Barker's missile attack had completely decimated the surface area above. Having been shot by sniper fire and his commander following a similar conclusion to the "Fate" of 259, the two Germans had been rescued and forced to recuperate in the underground.
"Unfettered" forced himself to leave the next day to return to Crows, in spite of his injuries, leaving "Teal" to keep communications open with Vespyr's seemingly growing underground force.
...Much to the German's chagrin..."...Gott verdammit..." the man would mutter, a calander on his lap. He had been keeping track of the days, after all...
He looked around, hoping he wouldn't be spotted, as it was towards night time, on the eve of...
The door to Vespyr’s room opened. The girl emerged, wearing black jeans and a blank long-sleeved shirt, and casually walked into the kitchen. As she was holding a tall candle in her left hand, a small aura of warm light followed her through the pitch black doorway and dimly lit the walls inside the room. She was absent for about ten minutes, quietly preparing a meal of toast with tuna spread for the cats and Tuvlan. A warm, tantalizing scent began to drift through the air, attracting a horde of felines—tonight’s guests numbered about fifteen—to the darkness of the kitchen. They filed through the doorway eagerly with their tails held high.
Thirty seconds later they would be filing out again, mewling, sixty or so paws treading in Vespyr’s unhurried footsteps. A calm look was on the girl’s face (calm as in aloof and somewhat cold, typically). She had in her left hand a plate of toast; in her right, a pan of tuna gravy. A wooden spoon was between her pointy teeth. She set the pan and plate on the counter outside of the kitchen, began to dish out the meal into as many small bowls as there were customers, and then set the bowls on the floor. She filled Tuvlan’s bowl last with twice as much (two pieces of toast and two scoops of gravy) to feed the boy. She took none for herself, and was about to return to the kitchen when she spotted the teal-haired man circling restlessly about the fire pit.
She stood looking over her shoulder at him for several moments, her eyes narrowing and un-narrowing subtly. If he still hadn’t noticed her, she would address him.
“What’s eating you?”
With a startled clanking noise, the German's seat creaked under his sudden movements as he heard the door of the room of that girl open. His hands quickly moved to stuff the contents of his prize into his usual Nazi overcoat. His breathing became stifled as he looked down, as if trying to be as silent and hidden as possible---but that was impossible and he knew that.
She knew her own realm very well.
Quietly he listened... and sniffed the change in the air. It smelled delicious. Closing his mouth, before his vigorious tongue could loll itself out. Quickly he packed his stomach about, while the cats mewling was still loud. It would be easy enough to hide...
His body had become thin while inhabiting this area. In truth, he usually wore his uniform more out of trying to hide his increasingly emaciated figure as well as out of habit. It was not totally out of lack of food... but rather his body taking longer to recover then that of his commander.---
And then, she addressed him.
Like a bird, he chirped up in a sudden baritone squeak, his shoulders stifftening, hands fumbling to push the calender to the right side of his chair... and then regained composure, holding his head low, his cap hiding the expressoin of his face..."...Sometimez ze cats."
"..."He slowly looked up..."...Du know vat day it is today, ja?"
Vespyr hadn’t been counting the days. Her new role as a dictator was keeping her rather busy; she had the disorganized outfit to straighten up, new recruits to bully, innocent civilians to terrorize, territory borders to upkeep, and all the while, the world to keep herself and her legion a secret from. On top of that, she had been catching up with her brother Vincent as best she could in her spare time that wasn’t spent sleeping (which accounted for a meager twelve hours a week). And feeding the cats. And teasing “Teal” for being useless. But despite the difficult balancing of tasks, she was undaunted and found herself with even more motivation than before. However, it was no surprise that she’d completely lost track of time.
…As if she had any reason to keep track of the date. And as if she ever kept track to begin with.
Her eyes darted up at the ceiling as she made a half-assed attempt to recall… what day it was. But it seemed rather pointless and her curious glare fell back to “Teal”’s face—or rather, the cap that obscured it. Cagey bastard, she thought.
“Of course not.”
Without even asking why, she returned to the kitchen and deposited the serving dishes into the sink. A moment later she reappeared in the doorway, leaning against it lightly on her left shoulder, her arms crossed.
Uncomfortably, the German cleared his throat---only to be noted that he had been abandoned. His composure relaxed only too soon, as he saw her slinked (he could only assume, he didn't actually see when she moved to her new position, leaning against the door. He bit the tip of his tongue as his shoulders heaved up, his surprised eye exposed as the tuft of hair floated up for a moment. His hands were set to work of keeping his cap atop his head and keeping it set straight and back over his eye. There was much in the terms of loud squeaking that came from his chair...
He needed to oil the damn thing.
---"Teal" shook his head, quickly trying to replace his surprise with irritation."Och. Du mean du do not remember ven zat asshole asked you vat du ver doing..."
"...for Christmas?"
Vespyr cocked an eyebrow at the man suspiciously and narrowed her eyes. Yes, she remembered. She had said something like “Christmas? Bah, humbug.” and stalked off without giving him an actual answer. She didn’t think much of it then and didn’t think anything of it now. She wondered vaguely if today was that day. Still, she thought, it shouldn’t make a difference. Christmas did not exist underground. Did Christmas even still exist above ground?
“What’s your point.” In the darkness, the German shifted uncomfortably---more from a embaressment and the feeling of being undermined... He gingerly recalled..."Vell..."* * * * * * * * * * * * * "So, Vespyr, vat are you doing for Christmas?""Christmas? Bah, humbug."/Whatever she actually said."..."
"Don't be like zat. Christmas is a vonderful thing to celebrate, especially for ze spirit of... giving'"
"...Ich leave you in charge...""...Vat...""Unfettered" slowly began to push "Teal" away... to allude to Vespyr... as well as to begin his "plotting" with "Teal"...* * * * * * * * * * * * * "...Vell, it's Christmas Eve..."
“And?”
Vespyr raised her eyebrows at him expectantly, genuinely wondering what he could possibly finish that sentence with that had any ounce of importance. To her, at least; maybe the German was the type to get all warm and fuzzy around the holidays, but she certainly wasn’t. And she knew he knew that.
"Teal" coughed. He shook his head... the digust on his face growing...
He slowly... deliberately reached into the slight opening in his coat, unbuttoning it slightly. His frail figure could be seen, several inches within the coat, as though he were wearing a suit of armor. Breathing out a bit tiredly, the German shrugged... as he pulled out a small, brown paper package tied up in rope in a cross.
The package was obviously light, as he lifted it up without much effort, the German scoffing at the contents inside of it. The contents seemed to flop, as though it couldn't hold its form properly. It had a easily recognizable "-U" on the corner of it with strong, black ink."...As he is unable to be here himself to say it in person..."He slowly began to exaggerate his throat, contorting his face until it almost looked friendly, as "Unfettered's" voice specialist and hypnotist prepared himself to imitate..."...Merry Christmas, Vespyr."
Vespyr’s face twitched into a look of obvious disgust.
“Oh he didn’t…”
She stepped forward, placing her palms on the counter, glaring at “Teal” incredulously.
"...Ja... Ich he did."He would hold it up in his left hand, like a waiter waiting to serve. However, if unapproached, the German would grunt and lay it down on his lap before reaching up with both hands to button up his coat. He would then slowly began to wheel towards her. Either way, his face was that of equal irritation to the girl's disgust, his teal eye glowering in the dark."..."
Of course she would make "Teal" come to her. Her eyes followed him as he crossed the room, long black fingernails tapping the counter just as slowly as he moved. She looked rather displeased.
She narrowed her eyes and outstretched a hand to receive the unwelcomed gift...
A single stroke of her claw sliced through the rope and the top of the brown paper effortlessly. All the while, her gaze hadn't wavered from the German's eye.
He grumbled because he knew what he was being subjected to, his scowl only growing larger with every moment the girl tapped her damn fingernail. Rather obediently, he offered up the prize...
---There was a terrible slicing noise that greeted the man, almost making him drop the gift, flinching rather visibly. He cussed out a string of words in German."SHIEST, voman!"...In his shaking, but still upheld hand, the "Hades Coat" of "Unfettered" flowed out from the torn open brown package. He looked down and away..."...Vell..." he said, starting to re-imitate the man's voice, trying to manage his focus by looking away..."It could use a bit or adjusting, but..."
"It vould complete ze set..."
Vespyr's gaze shifted down to the coat she now held in her hand.
"...I hope he's not expecting anything in return."
His irritated glanced from over from his still not-bleeding hand over to the coat that Vespyr now took."Ich think it vasn't expected in ze first place..."
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Post by The New Student Dean on Jan 13, 2012 18:32:29 GMT -8
Kevala & Jack have completed the M.E.!
Vespyr & "Teal" have completed the M.E.!
- Kevala: +3 EXP, +$700
- Jack: +3 EXP, +$700
- Vespyr: +3 EXP, +$700
- "Unfettered" ("Teal"): +3 EXP, +$700
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Post by "Unfettered" on Jan 19, 2012 11:02:10 GMT -8
OOC: The following is an excerpt from between the time of Vincent helping transport "Unfettered" back from an unknown location back to the Crow's Nest. A little foresight and gift-giving ensues towards the end...[shadow=black,left,300]Blood Flowing in the Veins of a Ruined City[/shadow]
A feeling of unease began to bubble in Vincent’s narrow chest the longer he sat, which the nicotine failed to neutralize. His troubled eyes were cast down to the ground where something else had been on the rise: the water. Where there had been but a dirty trickle several minutes before—a grey stream no wider than a foot—there was now a freely flowing tide of about twice the width and that was tinted a sickening reddish brown. The disconcerting murk lapped innocently at his boots, threatening to engulf the soles, as it streamed on through the tunnel with menacing haste. Vincent flinched as the light flickered dangerously on the walls and he darted off of the German’s lap to scoop the candle out from the sanguinary torrent before it was drowned. His boots splashed into the water, which was now about three inches at its deepest. A look of serious concern washed over the features of his gaunt face, and holding the candle against his chest protectively, he turned to face “Unfettered”.
“…Something’s happening. We need to go now.”
Back toward the wheelchair, Vincent stepped, trying to avoid stepping into the filmy water, the unhealthy red hue of which grew more worrisome by the second. Carried on the dank gusts of forbiddingly cold air was the unsettling tang of rotting blood.
. . .
By the time they had reached their destination, the two men would be wading up to their shins in the revolting tide. Barely daring to be called water anymore, it had transmogrified into a river of day-old blood, blood which had dried on the streets but was subsequently liquidized again by the heavy rains, and washed into the catch basins in sickening red torrents along with an array of debris that included fragments of the humans whence the blood had originally flowed. It had been a horrific rest of the journey under these conditions. Several times Vincent had felt his stomach in coils—the stench of death had become stifling—and he nearly retched into the water, but managed to push on without doing so. He could not speak, however, lest he gagged and lost hold of his stoic demeanor. At last he saw a dim light approaching ahead, just as the red tide had begun to swell nearly to his knees. Taking a deep breath (and regretting it, as he gagged again), the boy began to lengthen his sloshing strides in an almost desperate manner, until he and “Unfettered” had finally reached the end of the tunnel. They were greeted by a glacial downpour of rain and a lungful of relatively fresh air. Vincent breathed deeply as he wheeled the chair away from the mouth of the tunnel, leaving behind the frothing hematic deluge that flooded pugnaciously onward toward the ocean.
The sea itself was a terror to look upon, its dark waters brewing hazardously beneath the storm, agitated by the torrents of rain that thundered into it. Vincent stared at it with wide eyes that blinked away the rain that had begun to stream down his pale face. He shivered, his heart trembled, and his eyes continued their survey of the area. They had reached the waterfront, a meandering shoreline of craggy rocks that gave way to a city of docks, outstretched like fingers into the raging sea. These fingers clutched somehow to swarms of boats, each one of them flanked by as many as a hundred of varying kinds, all swaying and bobbing precariously in the angered waters. Along the coastline from which the docks stemmed, the edge of the city of Long Beach—mostly expensive-looking houses intermingled with seaside shops and marketplaces—was perched as close to the water as it could afford, seeming only a rogue wave away from being swallowed into the ocean. Before the events of yesterday and under more agreeable weather conditions, this had once been a pleasant place. Beaches teemed with tanned and gaily dressed crowds, popular tunes flitted about on the sunlit breeze, and cars full of visitors and shoppers streamed along the coast, eager to explore the city that was so full of life (in certain parts. Some areas of Long Beach were left alone, for obvious reasons.)
But all of that was gone now, the livelihood stamped out by the missiles that had walked carelessly overtop the city like the heavy boots of an entire army over enemy earth. When all the bombs had finished walking around, all that was left was death. It manifested itself in many ways: an acrid stench in the air; an entire street of obliterated buildings; an infinite outpour of blood into the ocean. And most fitting for the occasion, the dark rainstorm further assailed from above the desolate ruins of the fallen society. But for those who had not yet flung hope away from their chests in total despair, it might have been taken as an omen—the streets were being washed clean.
Vincent merely stared in awe as the rain continued to drench him, his white hair turning a solemn and dripping silver.
“…Where do we go from here?”
A New World Precariously, the German did not seem to notice anything, aside from the immediate haste with which possessed Vincent, only noting that... he had picked up the candle with sudden haste. Only then did a feeling of dark realization begin to bloom in the German's mind as he began to notice the slowly, but surely ascending level of the water around them. Upon his face he retained the same face, nodding only at Vincent with a silence of trust. His body remained warm for the time being, though the cold winds and the rank of their setting rose to formidible heights...
...It was as though the German either fully trusted Vincent's judgement in this time of necessity, that the German did not wish to be of any further burden and masked his fear, or that he was completely aloof to the direness of the situation.
...He would proceed quietly, slowly pulling the blankets from underneath him, resting them on his lap as they went on.* * * * * * * * * * * * * The tainted blankets had been thrown into the stream they waded in, the wheels of the chair not failing in their duties, though on several occasions the ruts of the wheels would get jammed. A discarded, muddied doll. A torn, ratty, seaweed-like sweater. A dismembered forearm. Several times, the German would lean to the side, using his hands to shield the back of the wheels, trying to reduce the number of pauses that would be required of the both of them, often throwing the flowing debris that flowed behind them in front of them to speed on ahead.
"Unfettered's" face was a surprising tomato red as the rest of his upperbody shivered, his legs, completely drowned, numb to the cold. There would be no complaints from the German, aside from a few stray expletives at the obviously decreasing niceties of their "stroll," but he would retain his peace, his face otherwise "jovial."
It was like someone turned off the A/C in the morgue.
"Unfettered" breathed in the air through his nose, his eye streaming in spite of himself, lips pursed, as he endured being pushed forward in this hellish sewage for the next hour, with "Unfettered" shielding the candle he kept stuck to his bosom via his peeling off bandages and sometimes with his hands. Only with a quarter of the candle remaining, the German in the final fifteen minutes shielding its top and holding it personally, lest it slip out and fall into the stream, did they begin to notice that the darkness about them was finally beginning to retreat...
There was only a moment of exilerating relief before... "Unfettered's" eye adjusted. They were outside.
They were outside.
Hunching over the candle now, the moonlight pressing through the clouds, the German looked at the torrent of the Pacific, a gigantic torrent of black. It never rested, contorting in pain. But this was not where the German's gaze lingered for long. He looked to the terribly-angled city, barely even making note of Vincent as he did, almost pressing himself up as the cold rain dripped on his entirely shivering body. But the awe that took the German compelled him upward from his chair, before sitting down with a terrible clank in his chair...
The city south of Long Beach was in ruins.
The missile attack was not at Public High School #259 exclusively.
In the darkness, "Unfettered's" eye had widened 'til it seemed to encompass what little moon there was. He beheld the city, his breath stuck in his throat, waves of horror tremoring down from the base of his head to the bottom of his spine...
A city in ruins.
A world in ruins?
---It was Vincent that broke him out of his trance. With an almost doll-like coo, the German breathed out, looking around... the horror on his face evident.
He breathed, closing his eye."..."
"It ist... It ist... Ve just travel along from here."
"It ist a club on ze pier. But it vould be prudent to reach for higher ground, first."He sighed, agitated, a new wave of emotions taking him... conflicting.
...
[shadow=black,left,300]Ache[/shadow]
Fortunately, for the sake of not getting lost, there was only one pier in sight. The boardwalk stood on thick wooden stilts fifty feet higher than the clusters of docks and outstretched hundreds of feet further into the ocean. In contrast to the withered and broken landscape at its rear, the structure loomed undaunted above the swarms of waves that crashed stormily at its limpet-encrusted base, refusing to be toppled and swallowed by the sea. It was a beacon of stability; this was where they must go.
Vincent cleared his throat and pushed forward, steering the chair up a small muddied path that led away from the seething ocean and up onto the jetty where only the cold spray of the waves could reach. It was slow going, their progress hindered by the stubborn relationship between the thin wheels and the squelching mud and the steep grade and the lack of traction on Vincent’s boots since the mud had no grip of its own. With silent frustration, the boy blinked away the rain and plotted each step through the muck to inch the seated German further toward the crest of the jetty, where the easiest part of their trip could commence. Every few seconds he breathed out through his mouth, the rain trickled aggravatingly across his lips, tasting slightly acidic. His face felt somewhat numb with cold, and was now a ghostly white. For some reason his limbs ached deeply.
When at last he pushed the wheelchair over the last few feet of the steep incline and onto the flat cement, Vincent let go of it and leaned over himself, placing his palms on his knees, panting, shivering. His cold violet eyes were fixed with annoyance on his mud-smattered boots. But what the hell. It doesn’t matter. Fuck, my body hurts. Why does it hurt?
Standing up after a few moments of this, he groaned slightly and clenched his teeth. And then he placed his hands back onto the wet handles of the wheelchair and trudged onward in silence for about a mile until the pier was reached.
. . .
Bearing left, Vincent took a step onto the first of the drenched wooden boards. His eyes were cast down to the ground, dulled by the cold discomfort as he observed the raging sea though the narrow gaps in the wood. Though it made him rather nervous, he refused to show it. He steered his thoughts instead to focus on the hope that he would soon be safely back in the dark bunker with his sister, sitting before the flickering fire with a cup of black coffee and a cigarette, resting his head on her bony shoulder and drifting into shapeless sleep.
A Trip Ended
Farewell Gifts Salt and cold water washed onto the German's face, as though to cleanse him of his wounds with numbness and the wheels of his chair showed the early signs of rust developing as it crotchted along. Stoic, the German began to sit himself upright, as though sensing himself closer to his objective, holding his breath more and more often. A completely serious look had come over "Unfettered's" face, the candle now held in his lap with both hands, as the rain continued to hammer down on them. The tragedy that greeted them from nature, after all... was to the German as though he were indeed being welcomed to the state of the Crows nest.
"Unfettered" did not blink, even as the water slid over his eye, his face structured like a square. His body rocked with every tussle, but the German remained otherwise rigid where he sat, as Vincent trudged on behind him, working themselves into the mud..."...A little further..."After a while, Vincent pushed them onto the concrete, where they stopped. The German bowed his head, listening to the man behind him, panting for air, the wheelchair rolling a few feet further without the German. "Unfettered" solemnly took a moment to turn to his left, looking over his shoulder as much as his chest would allow him, checking in on Vincent. His face visibly cringed at the state that he saw the man was in."..."
"Danke."Vincent continued on to greet him in silence, before he slowly strode back up to "Unfettered" and began again.* * * * * * * * * * * * * There were lights on, flickering, over the pier, where the ocean turned into a dark maroon in the sunless morning. Two Crows, wearing themselves in jeans and rain jackets were seen at the front of the door, on duty for the time---before they spotted the two coming out from the darkness. Drawing their weapons, they began to approach, on the edges of the light."Who's there---""It ist 'Unfettered.' Stand down."One of them almost dropped their weapon as they backed up... slowly letting the two walk into the light of the front door of the Crow's Nest."...Holy shit, it's really---HOLY SHIT, LOOK AT HIM.""I'LL GET DORA AND TAI---"---The German held up his hand. And then his other one... beckoning the closer one to help him to his feet. The closest one on the left held up his hands to grab the slowly shambling German underneath his armpits. "Unfettered's" long white hair remained matted to the back of his head, but the shaky way in which the German stood himself up, the serious look in his face... he froze the one on the right."Ze von behind me ist Vincent, an ally. He deserves our thanks und mein highest praise. Go inside und get him a jacket, a flashlight und two bluetooths. Afterward, du may get Dora und Tai. Now."With a jump, the Crow quickly opened the door to the Crow's nest while the remaining guard held the German aloft, while the German slowly backed himself up to lean on the other door, looking at Vincent. Tired. Soaked. Needing a fresh change of bandages... but...
...He would look up at Vincent."Danke, danke, Vincent. Du are velcome to stay here until ze night ends."
[shadow=black,left,300]One for the Beginning, One for the End[/shadow]
Admittedly, he was tempted. But Vincent merely shook his head, a sad little sound in his throat, wiping the rain away from his brow uselessly with the back of his wet hand. He glanced down at his hands then, noting the stark whiteness of his knuckles and the icy blue tinge creeping around the tips. It would have bothered him if he could feel it, but he couldn’t even feel himself shivering anymore so it didn’t matter. All he could feel was a dull ache penetrating persistently down into his very bones.
“…No, I need to go… home.”
The boy glanced up with wan melancholy swimming in his eyes, or maybe it was just the rain reflected in the amethyst hues.
“…See you around…”
His gaunt face, though still sickly pale and dripping, was washed over with a sort of forced seriousness. After a moment of hesitation, Vincent slowly outstretched his clammy right hand—the only proper farewell he could think of.
Sweet Farewells "Unfettered" looked up at him, and at "Teal's" wheelchair. He shook his head, still smiling, as the guard from before returned with a black raincoat and several small ziplocked plastic bags in his other hand, as the German looked up at Vincent. "Unfettered" wanted to get inside, feel the warmth of the sheets and lay down while he had his ass yelled at by his old comrades...
...But he did not want to abandon Vincent to the lonely return trail on his own. The guard turned to "Unfettered" who shambled to grab the rain coat and a handful of the plastic bags in his hands. He would slowly stride over to Vincent, a serious look on his face.
---Laying a raincoat on top of Vincent's outstretched, clammy looking hand. There was no intent for wanting it to be returned. And with the German's right hand (his legs holding him up rather well for an injured man who had been sitting for the last few hours) pushed to Vincent a small plastic bag of what appeared to be two charged bluetooths, a flashlight... and in another, a pair of sunglasses, with a note folded in it. Seemingly, it were as though the German had planned it out on the day he had met Vincent, as the note read, "Early Merry Christmas, Vincent."OOC: Tactician's Boon (+5 Intelligence)"It ist not much..." the German said, clutching the drowned candle in his right hand now, looking at his transporter rather endearingly."Du do not need to make ze travel alone..." the German replied, hinting to the bluetooths. But the secondary reason for giving them---keeping in contact, was ultimately more important.
[shadow=black,left,300]And That’s That[/shadow]
A slight frown resided on Vincent’s face as “Unfettered” placed the coat in his hand, but he swept it off immediately and pulled the coat over himself. He regarded the plastic bags and then glanced back to the German as he slipped them into one of the deep pockets of the raincoat, giving the man a subtle but grateful nod. He then paused, and shivering, clutched at the edges of the coat and drew them together over his narrow chest. He stared into “Unfettered”’s eye somewhat blankly for a moment. Reflecting.
But there was too much to reflect on.
“…I’ll be alright.”
As he said this, Vincent cast his gaze down to the ground and took a deep breath, and exhaled, licking the rain from his lips. He felt awkwardly frozen where he stood. His lilac hues lifted from the rain-soaked wood and drifted off toward the churning grey sea, the melancholy sky, and the desolate unknown that lie somewhere in between them where the horizon should have been. He gazed into the distance somewhat wondrously, taken aback by how utterly surreal everything suddenly seemed. The wind echoed dolefully deep within some hollow region of his heart.
When at last he turned his attention back to “Unfettered”, though he had really only been ‘absent’ a few moments at most, it was as if the unfathomable distance and sullen inscrutability of the sea were being reflected in the amethyst depths of his eyes.
“Goodbye.”
Vincent’s gaze fell away once more and he wrapped his numb palms around the handles of the wheelchair, stepping backward, pushing the chair around to begin walking back the way he came.
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Post by The New Student Dean on Jan 21, 2012 19:51:33 GMT -8
Leta & Sebastian have completed the M.E.!
Vespyr & "Tuvlan" have completed the M.E.!
- Leta: +3 EXP, +$700
- Sebastian: +3 EXP, +$700
- Vespyr: +3 EXP, +$700
- "Tuvlan": +3 EXP, +$700
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