In Scripts of Red: IC
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In Scripts of Red: IC
In Scripts of Red
"And remember, no matter where you go, there you are."
-Confucius-
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
At their window, she stands. Calling, to Readers alone. She is made of darkness, with Scripts of red wrapped around her body. And her voice fills the silence, echoing a soft melody as she sings.
I want to tell you a story
about the end of
the world...
Beijing: China ... 4:50 p.m.
"And remember, no matter where you go, there you are."
-Confucius-
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
At their window, she stands. Calling, to Readers alone. She is made of darkness, with Scripts of red wrapped around her body. And her voice fills the silence, echoing a soft melody as she sings.
I want to tell you a story
about the end of
the world...
Beijing: China ... 4:50 p.m.
Everything was normal. For a few minutes, at least.
Something fell from the sky. A black orb, falling hard. It seemed like a giant bullet almost, but as it neared the Earth, it slowed, spreading out arms as a black robe danced around the figure, and with a loud thunderous crash, it landed in the middle of the street, cracking the road into many pieces. Standing from the wreckage was a man, with a long black jacket, sitting open over his bare chest. His pants were black and of a foreign material, with small flickering flames from his fall that dissipated with a few passing moments. The man had spiky black hair, and a black blindfold over his eyes. He stretched his fingers forth, and darkness conducted around them like electricity.
Across the street, a car had stopped short before the Blind fell to the Earth. The door swung open and stepping out was a Vietnamese man, of about 6'1. He was lean, and yet a strong man to look at. He had a black hair tied up loosely, with thick black plugs in his ears. He had tattoos along his neck in black tribal designs, and had on a black leather jacket that fell just to his knees. The silver clasps on it were undone and underneath he had on a white wife beater. His jeans were simple with a few small chains looping around from them. Shades fell over his eyes and the sun created quite the gleam off of them. Van Nguyen had traveled a long way to get here, searching for a meaning, and another Reader- so far coming up short.
"Reader." The Blind hissed, a smile turning up his lips. The dark energy gathering at his fingers shot across the space between them in dark discs, shattering by some unseen force at the immediate action. The Asian, Van, had created a soft white energy, expelling it from energies previously gathered. He had created two long whips of fluorescent energy, casting them around in spiraling fashions that destroyed all the black discs from the Blind. Van's reflexes were top-notch.
The Blind shot across the space, almost gliding towards him. Van cast his energy-based whips forward, and lashed at the Blind, but he dodged, seeming to flip through the air as though he were a fish suspended in water. That was the Blind. He shoved his fist forward, reaching for Van throat. Van released one of his whips and watched it disappear, his lean tanned hand grabbing the Blind's wrist before he turned his body and slammed the Blind into the hood of his car. The thing rebounded with his feet into Van's chest, sending him back into the pavement as the Blind landed on his feet. The blind summoned up more dark energy, shooting it towards the Reader again.
Van rolled up to his feet, recreating his energy whips again and destroying most of the discs- one hitting his arm and cutting through his jacket- putting a cut on his arm. The man growled, cracking his whips forward. One whip missed as the Blind dodged, but another one wrapped around the Blind's ankle, causing it to let out a vicious screech.
The Blind disappeared after his first whip was cast forward, latching around his throat and being pulled until the demon burst into darkness. But it wasn't over.
Another man appeared, without really appearing. He was like a Blind, but without a blindfold. He had on a thin black jacket with studs along the hood's edge- that sat on the man's head- as well as the cuffs. Underneath was a thin black tank top, and paired with black leather pants and boots. Black hair poured out from underneath the hood, and the gleam of sharp red irises against stone gray eyes stuck out with a haunting presence.
"Tôi không thể chờ đợi để giết bạn." (I can't wait to kill you.) Van murmured underneath his breath in sharp baritone Russian.
Chaos chuckled, summoning one fistful of dark energy, and raised his hand. The energy spiraled out, then turned back- like a tornado. It was sucking something into his hand. And this something was Van. His whips soon dissolved and the white energy began to break from his body, ripping into this cyclone. All around them, energy was torn up from objects and sucked into this cyclone. Van began to yell as his skin began to crack, and his body finally burst into a bright golden light.
And the dust of his being, glowing like the sands of Heaven, were sucked into Chaos' draining whirlwind, and Chaos- just as he came- was gone...
-x-x-x-x-
The sun was setting in Las Vegas. Felicita Emerald was just getting up now. She and another Reader she had met back in Knoxville lived in a penthouse in the heart of Sin City. At the Plaza Hotel, they stayed. It had been a long journey, but the two had become something like partners in the process, and Felicita was grateful to have found another Reader. She had been alone far too long to deal with these responsibilities by herself. But she was fine now. Especially since they both felt something drawing them to Las Vegas. Call it a strong Reader's intuition, but there were other Readers there. They were all being drawn to one place.
She crawled out of the bed, her feet hitting the floor as she combed through her hair and called out for Nick.
"You up?" She said. The Brazilian woman slid through the hall way and into the living room, staring out of the wide stretch of wall-to-floor windows that overlooked the city. This was like a little chunk of heaven, something she could've never experienced in Bahia- her home town in Brazil. The small place and selection of warm-hearted neighbors, they were all great. But when her mother and best friend disappeared, she had made a change.
Outside, the sun cast a hazy glow over the city, as it began to disappear over the horizon. Las Vegas was slowly being flooded with shadows and highlights, and soon night would come. And they had plans. Felicita smiled out the window, before turning and picking up her bag of clothes off the floor near the sofa, pulling the strap over her shoulder.
"You ready to get dressed? We're going out tonight." Felicita smiled.
______________________________________________________________________________
Everyone bring yourself to Las Vegas.
Get ready, because something is pulling on your soul.
Something is pulling you, drawing you, moving you...
...Tonight, we party at the Stratosphere Casino and Hotel...
Everyone bring yourself to Las Vegas.
Get ready, because something is pulling on your soul.
Something is pulling you, drawing you, moving you...
...Tonight, we party at the Stratosphere Casino and Hotel...
Eternity- Corporeal Spirit
- Join date : 2009-05-25
Posts : 3144
Age : 32
Location : SoBo, VA
Re: In Scripts of Red: IC
A hooded figure stood in a corner of a small gym, complete with boxing ring, punching bags, speed bags, jump ropes, free weight stations... Just what ever a workout fanatic would ever want to get into shape, or just stay that way. The guy had moderately long arms, his hands tapped up from his knuckles up to his wrists, clothed in a simple, black hoody, and a pair of midnight blue and white board shorts. Death Metal was blaring from inside the darkened hood, the only thing being faintly visible being the tip of his nose and chin. You could see how his heels slowly began to come up off the ground, seemingly getting together with an invisible beat coming from the ear buds, though with the sporadic outbursts of a guitar and someone screaming in the background... No one could really make heads or tails of what he was following.
He got up on the balls of his feet, his arms coming up in a fighters stance, waiting for that one moment when his adrenaline peaked along with his senses. Out of no where, like a bat out of hell, he shot forward and landed a punch directly into the center of the bag, making it move to the side about 2 foot, moving to the side and toward the bag, landing another punch with sent the bag in a complete circle, about to nail him in the back if he didn't react on a dime. He felt impulse take over, his feet now putting a great amount of force on the floor as he pushed his body up into the air, giving his entire being a twist which sent his left right around, hitting it just hard enough that it moved down a pulley system, and pulling the hood from his head in the process.
The blue eyed male stared at the bag with a grin on his face, seeing the indent of his shit and foot slowly being filling back out again. He was getting stronger, no doubt... But he felt like his timing was all off and he could have made that a much more effective blow... He shrugged it off mentally, grabbing the bag and pulling it back to the position it had started at. The music shot down in tone, signaling that the song was going off, pulling up a new song from the sporadically built library. A deep, thick German accent came over the line and a beat showed up in the background, the German starting to rap.
He grinned as he remembered having been hired by the same artist, thinking about some of the weird happenings which had occurred with the guy. He brought his hands up and grabbed the bag, steadying it as he stepped back about 2 feet and brought his arms up again, throwing consistent punches to the center of the bag, twisting his arm to through in some torque to each of his punches. He wasn't really trying to hit it hard, but it was getting a good swing on it. His smile slowly moved away, hitting the bag gradually harder as he finished up his warm up for his workout... It was time to trade shifts with some of his other co-workers.
Sig stood at the front of a door, dark sunglasses on to compliment his black suit with blood red tie. It wasn't even dark outside and there were still a number of people already shit faced, losing their money, and begging to get it back somehow... He did his best to ignore the man in front of him, claiming to be the casino owners son, though he looked like he had just lost a million dollars and owed about 12... "Come on man! Just let me see my dad!" The guy pleaded, reaching out to touch Sig's shirt, who immediately answered before he could touch him, stepping back a step, "Sir..." His Austrian accent protruded, making him sound like a person you wouldn't want to mess with at all, "I cannot let you in... And I would highly suggest not touching me... If you please." The guy was clearly pissed but he growled under his breath and took off, throwing his arms up in the air, reaching back down and ripping his tie from his head, throwing it on the ground as he stormed off. "Ass Hole..." Sig muttered under his breath, seeing one of his partners grinning at him from around one of the slot machines, dressed just like he was.
There was a click and the door behind him opened, his employer and another guard looking at him from inside the room, "Ay! Come in here Sig... Got a surprise for ya..." said the old man from behind a cigar with the girth of a half dollar. Sig turned and walked in casually, taken by surprise. "Sir...?" He asked, watching the man sit up in his chair, letting out a puff of smoke in no ones general direction, "Sig... You know how we're hosting the cage fight tonight...?" The man cocked his eyebrow slightly, leaning back in his chair again, pulling his right leg over and crossing it over his left. Sig slowly nodded his head, "Yes sir... I've already ran a backgrou-" "No, no, no... You did your job flawlessly, that's why you're getting a raise." Sig's lips parted faintly, surprised by what he had just said, "Th-" "Wait!" The old man paused, "I'm not done yet." Sig nodded, standing up a little straighter. "There's going to be an exhibition match later tonight, and I want you to be in it... Just to strike a tad bit of fear into the eyes of anyone that wants to fuck me over..." The old male paused again, taking a deep drag from the cigar, letting it out as he bent his head back and blew out.
Sig resisted the urge to grin... The old man was walking around his alley now. "Yes... I'd be... Gracious." Sig said, screwing his English up again, making the geezer leaned forward in his chair again, taking the cigar from his mouth, "You're dismissed... You'll get payed for the rest of the night and a little extra bonus if you finish the fight and win... Now get the fuck out of here and go get ready..." The old man turned in his chair slightly, staring at a large plasma screen TV, putting the cigar back in his mouth. Sig turned and walked out the door, hearing it lock behind him after another guard walked out to its front. Sig had about a million butterflies in his stomach now, and he would have puked had he not been excited. He loosened his tie and took off his sunglasses, walking out the backdoor to the employee parking lot, pulling out the keys to his car, a newer Challenger which was just a little less than 4 months old. He was able to pay for it after having a few higher up "government officials" over in Europe decided they needed a few other people that wouldn't mind taking a fair share of coin.
He got into his car, turning the engine over and listening to the American Muscle growl under the hood for a minute before turning out of the parking lot and getting on the street which took him back to his house... He still didn't know what the hell they called them, but they sat on the very top of a building and everyone freaked out when he told them where he lived... But it wasn't really a big deal, he had enough money to pay for about 20 of them... He figured most every American did up until they demolished their fortunes in the casino's... Which was just about every single one of them. He walked through the doors of the building, greeted by the nice looking girl, easily in her early 20's. Sig nodded with a faint smile, though his face seemed without emotion otherwise. The took the elevator up to his room, catching a few odd looks from people as he didn't get off the higher they went up in the elevator.
He finally reached his home, stretching as he exited the elevator and walked on the roof of the building, then into a door to a building which had windows from the roof to the floor on the front end which faced the epicenter of the city. He slipped his jacket off as he walked up to one of the windows, a sensor beeping as the glass slowly parted, allowing him to walk out onto a balcony and look over the city... There were so many problems with this place, yet so many people came... He really had no idea why, the only reason he had ended up coming here was because of the pay check. He slipped the idea off his shoulder and sighed, unbuttoning his collared shirt, turning back into the room, slipping it off as he kicked off his shoes. He picked up a remote, tapping a button which made speakers come on, and a small beep come over. Sig spoke up, "The Quiet Place." The speakers made another beep after a couple seconds, a song now appearing in the background, ironically enough being the song, The Quiet Place by In Flames. Yeah, Sig liked to throw in little customized things here and there in his house...
He had a couple of hours until he was on stage, well, in the octagon, or cage. He'd just chill out and listen to music until then, getting his mind straight.
He got up on the balls of his feet, his arms coming up in a fighters stance, waiting for that one moment when his adrenaline peaked along with his senses. Out of no where, like a bat out of hell, he shot forward and landed a punch directly into the center of the bag, making it move to the side about 2 foot, moving to the side and toward the bag, landing another punch with sent the bag in a complete circle, about to nail him in the back if he didn't react on a dime. He felt impulse take over, his feet now putting a great amount of force on the floor as he pushed his body up into the air, giving his entire being a twist which sent his left right around, hitting it just hard enough that it moved down a pulley system, and pulling the hood from his head in the process.
The blue eyed male stared at the bag with a grin on his face, seeing the indent of his shit and foot slowly being filling back out again. He was getting stronger, no doubt... But he felt like his timing was all off and he could have made that a much more effective blow... He shrugged it off mentally, grabbing the bag and pulling it back to the position it had started at. The music shot down in tone, signaling that the song was going off, pulling up a new song from the sporadically built library. A deep, thick German accent came over the line and a beat showed up in the background, the German starting to rap.
He grinned as he remembered having been hired by the same artist, thinking about some of the weird happenings which had occurred with the guy. He brought his hands up and grabbed the bag, steadying it as he stepped back about 2 feet and brought his arms up again, throwing consistent punches to the center of the bag, twisting his arm to through in some torque to each of his punches. He wasn't really trying to hit it hard, but it was getting a good swing on it. His smile slowly moved away, hitting the bag gradually harder as he finished up his warm up for his workout... It was time to trade shifts with some of his other co-workers.
About an hour and a half later...
Sig stood at the front of a door, dark sunglasses on to compliment his black suit with blood red tie. It wasn't even dark outside and there were still a number of people already shit faced, losing their money, and begging to get it back somehow... He did his best to ignore the man in front of him, claiming to be the casino owners son, though he looked like he had just lost a million dollars and owed about 12... "Come on man! Just let me see my dad!" The guy pleaded, reaching out to touch Sig's shirt, who immediately answered before he could touch him, stepping back a step, "Sir..." His Austrian accent protruded, making him sound like a person you wouldn't want to mess with at all, "I cannot let you in... And I would highly suggest not touching me... If you please." The guy was clearly pissed but he growled under his breath and took off, throwing his arms up in the air, reaching back down and ripping his tie from his head, throwing it on the ground as he stormed off. "Ass Hole..." Sig muttered under his breath, seeing one of his partners grinning at him from around one of the slot machines, dressed just like he was.
There was a click and the door behind him opened, his employer and another guard looking at him from inside the room, "Ay! Come in here Sig... Got a surprise for ya..." said the old man from behind a cigar with the girth of a half dollar. Sig turned and walked in casually, taken by surprise. "Sir...?" He asked, watching the man sit up in his chair, letting out a puff of smoke in no ones general direction, "Sig... You know how we're hosting the cage fight tonight...?" The man cocked his eyebrow slightly, leaning back in his chair again, pulling his right leg over and crossing it over his left. Sig slowly nodded his head, "Yes sir... I've already ran a backgrou-" "No, no, no... You did your job flawlessly, that's why you're getting a raise." Sig's lips parted faintly, surprised by what he had just said, "Th-" "Wait!" The old man paused, "I'm not done yet." Sig nodded, standing up a little straighter. "There's going to be an exhibition match later tonight, and I want you to be in it... Just to strike a tad bit of fear into the eyes of anyone that wants to fuck me over..." The old male paused again, taking a deep drag from the cigar, letting it out as he bent his head back and blew out.
Sig resisted the urge to grin... The old man was walking around his alley now. "Yes... I'd be... Gracious." Sig said, screwing his English up again, making the geezer leaned forward in his chair again, taking the cigar from his mouth, "You're dismissed... You'll get payed for the rest of the night and a little extra bonus if you finish the fight and win... Now get the fuck out of here and go get ready..." The old man turned in his chair slightly, staring at a large plasma screen TV, putting the cigar back in his mouth. Sig turned and walked out the door, hearing it lock behind him after another guard walked out to its front. Sig had about a million butterflies in his stomach now, and he would have puked had he not been excited. He loosened his tie and took off his sunglasses, walking out the backdoor to the employee parking lot, pulling out the keys to his car, a newer Challenger which was just a little less than 4 months old. He was able to pay for it after having a few higher up "government officials" over in Europe decided they needed a few other people that wouldn't mind taking a fair share of coin.
He got into his car, turning the engine over and listening to the American Muscle growl under the hood for a minute before turning out of the parking lot and getting on the street which took him back to his house... He still didn't know what the hell they called them, but they sat on the very top of a building and everyone freaked out when he told them where he lived... But it wasn't really a big deal, he had enough money to pay for about 20 of them... He figured most every American did up until they demolished their fortunes in the casino's... Which was just about every single one of them. He walked through the doors of the building, greeted by the nice looking girl, easily in her early 20's. Sig nodded with a faint smile, though his face seemed without emotion otherwise. The took the elevator up to his room, catching a few odd looks from people as he didn't get off the higher they went up in the elevator.
He finally reached his home, stretching as he exited the elevator and walked on the roof of the building, then into a door to a building which had windows from the roof to the floor on the front end which faced the epicenter of the city. He slipped his jacket off as he walked up to one of the windows, a sensor beeping as the glass slowly parted, allowing him to walk out onto a balcony and look over the city... There were so many problems with this place, yet so many people came... He really had no idea why, the only reason he had ended up coming here was because of the pay check. He slipped the idea off his shoulder and sighed, unbuttoning his collared shirt, turning back into the room, slipping it off as he kicked off his shoes. He picked up a remote, tapping a button which made speakers come on, and a small beep come over. Sig spoke up, "The Quiet Place." The speakers made another beep after a couple seconds, a song now appearing in the background, ironically enough being the song, The Quiet Place by In Flames. Yeah, Sig liked to throw in little customized things here and there in his house...
He had a couple of hours until he was on stage, well, in the octagon, or cage. He'd just chill out and listen to music until then, getting his mind straight.
Rendition- Shadow
- Join date : 2009-06-22
Posts : 107
Age : 33
Location : Texas
Re: In Scripts of Red: IC
Cullen hated this town, he had spent some weeks here in his days as a fighter and in spite of the facade of joy that most of the people showed while they were here, the bodyguard knew that it was a veneer - hiding the true desperation underneath. Three days they had been here, waiting, hoping for some word from Alvin Foster, some aknowledgement that the time of danger was over. Three days they had heard nothing, no news at all - Cullen was beginning to fear that things were worse than he had initially thought.
The girl seemed to enjoy walking the length of the Strip, so to keep Rachael content as well as to give his muscles some work the pair walked from the 2 Room Suite at the Monte Carlo Hotel & Casino all the way to the Stratosphere and back twice per day, stopping everytime to walk through M&M's world - something about all the colors fascinated the girl - the place actually made her smile, and even though the visits were long and tedious, Cullen knew that enduring them was better than a repeat of the first days walk, where he had kept her from the store and in response she had wondered into Bally's - where the metal detectors kept him and his Kimber .45's from following.
Rachael loved this town, so many colors to see - a beautiful chaos that made her feel somehow safe, the entire time she had been here no one leaking the black ribbons had been around, some people were dark, but not with the intensity of the thing that came for her in the last place, thankfully she had a knight to defend her...
Cullen looked at the young autistic woman beside him, wondering what she was thinking within her closed mind, wondering if she was accusing him of his failure to protect her in Hilo, God, but that was a disaster...He awoke, but the room was not empty, the window was swinging open in the light breeze - Cullen looked to the cot tucked away in the corner, and saw Rachael safely sleeping there. Standing now, with a pistol in each hand he slowly edged to the window and lightly pulled aside the curtain when an arm shot effortless through the glass and clasped upon his throat. The man was strong beyond imagining, and the two shots that Cullen fired into his thigh did little to slow him down...
The bodyguard shook his head to hopefully clear the thoughts from his memory - he still was not sure that he believed that the events occurred, and besides, now was the time to think of the future as they came to the standard turning point in thier daily walks. "Well, kid, we are here - how would you like to ride to the top of the tower?" Feeling safe enough, Cullen had left his Kimbers at the hotel so that his ward would be allowed to see the view of Vegas from the top of the Stratosphere.
Re: In Scripts of Red: IC
”You ready to get dressed? We’re going out tonight.”
Nick glanced over at the clock at saw the time: 7pm, like always. God, that girl could sleep later than anyone he’d ever met in his entire life. He laughed and stood from his seat behind the computer, rolling his neck from side to side and seemingly taking pleasure in the abundant ammount of pops and cracks that escaped his joints. “I’ve been up, worked out, ate, played some poker and got dressed in the time that you’ve been asleep, Fel,” he called out to her. “I’ve been ready, I’ve just been waiting on your lazy ass to get up.”
Truth be told, he’d done most of that but he was still sitting around in his gym clothes like he had been an hour ago. He tried to justify his own laziness by thinking that he was entitled the rest after such a grueling workout, but he knew that the Blind wouldn’t accept excuses when they were attacking, so there was no excuse for his actions. He sighed and moved towards his closet, pulling out a white button-down shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans. The shirt was tight around his shoulders, but just enough to intimidate any of their would-be human attackers so that he could focus on the real problem. The jeans, however, got baggier as they went down, giving him enough room to perform those devastating kicks that he had in his arsenal.
He opened the door and moved out into the main living area of their penthouse suite, plopping down onto the couch as he waited for Felicita to return from her room. He silently wondered what kind of skimpy outfit that his partner would have on tonight and a smal smirk graced his hard features, his green eyes twinkling with some bit of mischief. His mind wandered back to those nights that they’d shared together on the run from the Blind in South America. He sniggered, remembering how that had given a definite new meaning to the term “jungle fever.” He shook the memory off, but some images still lingered. He might just have to find a way to get ahold of those Scripts for a definite reminder, but there was a bigger matter at hand tonight.
“Hurry up, slowpoke,” he called to her. “We need to get the hell out of here so we can actually get something done tonight!”
Nick glanced over at the clock at saw the time: 7pm, like always. God, that girl could sleep later than anyone he’d ever met in his entire life. He laughed and stood from his seat behind the computer, rolling his neck from side to side and seemingly taking pleasure in the abundant ammount of pops and cracks that escaped his joints. “I’ve been up, worked out, ate, played some poker and got dressed in the time that you’ve been asleep, Fel,” he called out to her. “I’ve been ready, I’ve just been waiting on your lazy ass to get up.”
Truth be told, he’d done most of that but he was still sitting around in his gym clothes like he had been an hour ago. He tried to justify his own laziness by thinking that he was entitled the rest after such a grueling workout, but he knew that the Blind wouldn’t accept excuses when they were attacking, so there was no excuse for his actions. He sighed and moved towards his closet, pulling out a white button-down shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans. The shirt was tight around his shoulders, but just enough to intimidate any of their would-be human attackers so that he could focus on the real problem. The jeans, however, got baggier as they went down, giving him enough room to perform those devastating kicks that he had in his arsenal.
He opened the door and moved out into the main living area of their penthouse suite, plopping down onto the couch as he waited for Felicita to return from her room. He silently wondered what kind of skimpy outfit that his partner would have on tonight and a smal smirk graced his hard features, his green eyes twinkling with some bit of mischief. His mind wandered back to those nights that they’d shared together on the run from the Blind in South America. He sniggered, remembering how that had given a definite new meaning to the term “jungle fever.” He shook the memory off, but some images still lingered. He might just have to find a way to get ahold of those Scripts for a definite reminder, but there was a bigger matter at hand tonight.
“Hurry up, slowpoke,” he called to her. “We need to get the hell out of here so we can actually get something done tonight!”
Gunneh- Ghost
- Join date : 2009-05-23
Posts : 1451
Age : 34
Location : Greeneville, Tennessee
Re: In Scripts of Red: IC
Felicita heard him, rolling her eyes as she moved to her bedroom. She brushed her fingers through her hair as she shut the bedroom door, stripping away her clothes.
"Nicholas..." She shook her head. "You are pain in ass." She muttered, letting her English slide for the time being. She tossed her clothes into a pile in the corner of the room and opened her bag. She pulled out her brush, combing it through her hair until the smooth cocoa mess fell perfectly straight. She slid on a black strapless bra and matching underwear, with a black top that had one shoulder strap in a toga-like fashion, falling softly to her waist. Then she pulled a skirt up to her waist, a soft and loosely-flowing thing of light blue that hugged her hips and fell along the middle of her upper leg. She slid on a pair of black closed-toe heels with matching thin blue stripes over them.
She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and then put on a little bit of lipgloss, not really caring for make-up all that much.
She opened up the bedroom door and stepped out, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Felicita smiled at Nick, tilting her head towards the door.
"Let's go, American boy." Felicita said, moving towards the door and sliding on a thin white coat that hugged her figure and fell just over her tailbone.
"Nicholas..." She shook her head. "You are pain in ass." She muttered, letting her English slide for the time being. She tossed her clothes into a pile in the corner of the room and opened her bag. She pulled out her brush, combing it through her hair until the smooth cocoa mess fell perfectly straight. She slid on a black strapless bra and matching underwear, with a black top that had one shoulder strap in a toga-like fashion, falling softly to her waist. Then she pulled a skirt up to her waist, a soft and loosely-flowing thing of light blue that hugged her hips and fell along the middle of her upper leg. She slid on a pair of black closed-toe heels with matching thin blue stripes over them.
She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and then put on a little bit of lipgloss, not really caring for make-up all that much.
She opened up the bedroom door and stepped out, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Felicita smiled at Nick, tilting her head towards the door.
"Let's go, American boy." Felicita said, moving towards the door and sliding on a thin white coat that hugged her figure and fell just over her tailbone.
Eternity- Corporeal Spirit
- Join date : 2009-05-25
Posts : 3144
Age : 32
Location : SoBo, VA
Re: In Scripts of Red: IC
He stood and followed her towards the door, smiling at the way her hips swayed back and forth as she walked. He made a quiet whistling and chuckled as he walked up beside her and wrapped his arm around her waist. “So,” he said, ”we got a cover tonight? Honeymooners, normal couple…roaming pair of world class porn stars here to record the greatest video known to man?” He smiled playfully at her and pulled his arm from her waist as they neared the elevator. He pressed the down button several times, his eyes glued to the screen above the door as he watched the floor numbers change on its way to where they stood.
A small ding sounded and the doors slid open, a soothing tune pouring from the speakers above them. As the doors closed, he took a look at her and smiled as he started to push his energy into the metallic shell that they were encased in. He felt his own strength start to leave him, but the energy in the walls grew and the shel strengthed. His legs shook and his body wavered, but he stood his ground, his eyes still focused on Felicita as they went down, down, down.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, the bell that sounded told him that they on the first floor. The energy rushed back into him and he fell over, his chest rising and heaving in deep breaths.” God,” he said softly, “I hate having to do that. If these goddamn Blinds wanted to get us, I wish they’d just come at us head on.” The people that wanted to get on stared at him as if he were crazy and he just smiled and waved. “Sorry, bad knee.”
He stood slowly and took Felicita’s hand, leading her out into the lobby and through the doors to the parking lot outside. His car was easy to find, being the only large black Dodge truck near the front of the buidling. He climbed inside and waited for her to climb into the passenger seat. His head pounded from the quick re-energizing he had back in the elevator, but he drove perfectly fine towards the Stratosphere, his eyes never leaving the road.
The tower was actually a sight in and of itsself, but the set-up inside was what had always delighted Nick: The casino, the fights, the showgirls, it always made him smile. He loved this town and it was known to his partner. He jumped out of the truck, his legs still a bit shakey as he walked to the other side and pulled her door open for her.
A small ding sounded and the doors slid open, a soothing tune pouring from the speakers above them. As the doors closed, he took a look at her and smiled as he started to push his energy into the metallic shell that they were encased in. He felt his own strength start to leave him, but the energy in the walls grew and the shel strengthed. His legs shook and his body wavered, but he stood his ground, his eyes still focused on Felicita as they went down, down, down.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, the bell that sounded told him that they on the first floor. The energy rushed back into him and he fell over, his chest rising and heaving in deep breaths.” God,” he said softly, “I hate having to do that. If these goddamn Blinds wanted to get us, I wish they’d just come at us head on.” The people that wanted to get on stared at him as if he were crazy and he just smiled and waved. “Sorry, bad knee.”
He stood slowly and took Felicita’s hand, leading her out into the lobby and through the doors to the parking lot outside. His car was easy to find, being the only large black Dodge truck near the front of the buidling. He climbed inside and waited for her to climb into the passenger seat. His head pounded from the quick re-energizing he had back in the elevator, but he drove perfectly fine towards the Stratosphere, his eyes never leaving the road.
The tower was actually a sight in and of itsself, but the set-up inside was what had always delighted Nick: The casino, the fights, the showgirls, it always made him smile. He loved this town and it was known to his partner. He jumped out of the truck, his legs still a bit shakey as he walked to the other side and pulled her door open for her.
Gunneh- Ghost
- Join date : 2009-05-23
Posts : 1451
Age : 34
Location : Greeneville, Tennessee
Re: In Scripts of Red: IC
The Stratosphere was a different creature in the daylight, the casino seemed no different than a video arcade, a few tourists milled around the various slot machines, one or two of the table games were being played, but most of them sat empty, waiting for nightfall, waiting for the dusk-to-dawn party that was Vegas. Rachael Foster was walking a few steps in front of him, staring at the floor, but Cullen had grown to suspect that the girl knew more of what was happening than anyone could imagine.
There was a man following them, he had been behind them since they had passed the big clown. Rachael could see him clearly in the crowd, oozing the sickly brown of murder. She was not afraid of him because he was not one of them.
"Cullen Edison!!" A slightly familiar voice cut through the light crowd noise. "Cullen! Hey!" Finally recognition dawned upon Cullen's face - Timothy Ostrander was an event coordinator at the Stratosphere, and they had been aquaintances during his semi-pro fighting days. "You here to fight tonight kid?" Timothy asked after finally reaching the ticket line where he and Rachael were standing.
"Not this time, Tim" Cullen responded, "I'm just here on vacation." Edison ignored the man's raised eyebrow. "Y'know, all the times that I stayed in this hotel, I never actually rode to the 'top of the world'?" Almost like magic, Ostrander's hands were loaded with tickets.
"Here ya go buddy, on the house - you made us a lot of money, we should be comping you like a VIP anyway." He handed Cullen 2 tickets for the glass elevators and two tickets for the Boxing/MMA showcase tonight. "You don't have to use them, but if you are still on this end of the strip, we would be happy to have you."
The funny little man was unhappy, sickly orange strands of disappointment were interlocked with an overbearing ashen sorrow. Rachael truly wished she could make his life better, but she just didn't know how. Just then, out of the corner of her eye...did she see it? was it there? Maybe there was a ribbon of dark there, for a moment she had chills, then remembered that she was going the top of the world, and for the moment, that mattered most!
"Thanks, Tim - I don't know if the kid is up for the fight, but I hope you have a good turnout." Cullen turned toward the glass elevators herded Rachael inside. Just before the door closed, the bodyguard noticed the man, standing by the ATM machines, wearing a plain black hoodie, his eyes completely hidden underneath. Cullen remembered... the man-thing bore Cullen's full weight in his left hand, slamming him against the wall, once, twice and a third time before tossing him aside as though he weighed no more than a small child. It then walked toward Rachael, yet it gave no impression of movement, it just seemed to be closer to the sleeping girl with each passing second... The Elevator doors closed, pulling the bodyguard from his reverie.
There was a man following them, he had been behind them since they had passed the big clown. Rachael could see him clearly in the crowd, oozing the sickly brown of murder. She was not afraid of him because he was not one of them.
"Cullen Edison!!" A slightly familiar voice cut through the light crowd noise. "Cullen! Hey!" Finally recognition dawned upon Cullen's face - Timothy Ostrander was an event coordinator at the Stratosphere, and they had been aquaintances during his semi-pro fighting days. "You here to fight tonight kid?" Timothy asked after finally reaching the ticket line where he and Rachael were standing.
"Not this time, Tim" Cullen responded, "I'm just here on vacation." Edison ignored the man's raised eyebrow. "Y'know, all the times that I stayed in this hotel, I never actually rode to the 'top of the world'?" Almost like magic, Ostrander's hands were loaded with tickets.
"Here ya go buddy, on the house - you made us a lot of money, we should be comping you like a VIP anyway." He handed Cullen 2 tickets for the glass elevators and two tickets for the Boxing/MMA showcase tonight. "You don't have to use them, but if you are still on this end of the strip, we would be happy to have you."
The funny little man was unhappy, sickly orange strands of disappointment were interlocked with an overbearing ashen sorrow. Rachael truly wished she could make his life better, but she just didn't know how. Just then, out of the corner of her eye...did she see it? was it there? Maybe there was a ribbon of dark there, for a moment she had chills, then remembered that she was going the top of the world, and for the moment, that mattered most!
"Thanks, Tim - I don't know if the kid is up for the fight, but I hope you have a good turnout." Cullen turned toward the glass elevators herded Rachael inside. Just before the door closed, the bodyguard noticed the man, standing by the ATM machines, wearing a plain black hoodie, his eyes completely hidden underneath. Cullen remembered... the man-thing bore Cullen's full weight in his left hand, slamming him against the wall, once, twice and a third time before tossing him aside as though he weighed no more than a small child. It then walked toward Rachael, yet it gave no impression of movement, it just seemed to be closer to the sleeping girl with each passing second... The Elevator doors closed, pulling the bodyguard from his reverie.
Re: In Scripts of Red: IC
I see the past and present in ribbons of red, the colour of blood, the colour of life.
“Garakuta!” [Crap!] The voice echoed down the hallway of the suite the family was staying in. Multi-pierced ears could hear her mother telling to her watch her language. Oh like crap was really a bad word. The Japanese girl pouted, her pale lips pooching out in an over exaggerated way. It almost made her look like one of those famous anime school girls when they got upset. Dark, honey coloured eyes peered into the mirror and she giggled at herself. Her otaku friends always loved it when she did that. The thought of her friends made her sad and she sighed softly. Her father had dragged her out to Las Vegas in the stupid United States for their annual family vacation.
Her short brown hair seemed to bob up and down as she walked with her family. Her mother, father and brother were heading out to see the sights while Yuriko was going to the Stratosphere. Something was calling her there and she wasn’t sure what it was. Hopefully there wouldn’t be any Blind around here. The last thing she wanted was to get in a fight with one of those things while her family was in the area. People seemed to stare at her like she was some sort of doll. Her outfit was a black shirt that had white dots all over it. The material was silk and it ended at her waist. From there, dark blue jeans covered her legs down to the bottom of her toes, which were hidden by the dark leather of her boots. She wore a red ribbon around her neck that her mother had given her. Sometimes she wondered if her mother knew she could see scripts and they were also red. Yuriko just let out a sigh and she continued on her walk towards the Stratosphere.
Her phone played a little tune that caught her attention as she walked. Pulling out her pink Sharp 931SH, Yuriko looked at who had sent her a text message. It was from Kiko, her best friend back home. It said, 希望楽しい時を過している! 私達は逃す! [Hope you are having fun! We miss you!] The Japanese girl felt like crying. She missed Kiko and the others so much. While crossing the street, Yuriko began to send a message back. As she was typing in the message, a car came barreling towards her. She had just looked up when she saw the red Script flying from it. The car had been stolen from some guy just minutes before and now it was about to hit her. Without thinking, Yuriko drew energy up from the ground. The car slammed into her and the sound of metal could be heard crunching. The smoke from the car gave her enough cover to run. Yuriko ran until she reached the Stratosphere.
She spotted a man opening up a door for a rather pretty woman. Yuriko darted for the open door, her small body letting her slip past the woman. "Arigatou![Thank you!]" She said to the man before she vanished into the crowds. There had been something familiar about those two, but Yuriko figured she had seen people like them on the plane or something. Most Americans looked the same to her, just like she was sure most Japanese people looked the same to the Americans. She figured most around here would think she was some feminine looking boy since the breast fairy had yet to visit. She had A-Cups and they could hardly be seen under her shirt, even if it was slightly form fitting. Yuriko walked around, wondering where to go next. She couldn't drink because over here, she was underage. She could gamble, but that might get boring. "Watashi ha unzari suru. [I'm bored.]" The girl said with a pout as she sat on a bench, trying to figure out what she should do.
Guest- Guest
Re: In Scripts of Red: IC
Sig sat in the middle of one of the three couches in his home, his head rolled back with his eyes closed. He was clothed in nothing more than his black and white Planet Eclipse board shorts, his bare chest moving up and down with each breath he took in and released. He was currently trying to find his center, or what other athletes called it, "The Zone". Blacken The Cursed Sun was playing, ironically just as the sun was going down over the horizon, making the lights in Sig's house get gradually brighter to keep the same level of light flowing through it at all times. He could feel a pair of ethereal hands latch onto something inside of him, bringing out an almost blood thirsty side to him. He brought his head up and let it hang there, looking at one of the stars on his shorts. His left foot began to tap the floor, and after less than 3 seconds, he stood up.
His arms dangled at his sides, his fists curling up and then loosening up, flexing the muscles in his forearms. His eyes opened and a fire slowly began to gain strength, making a chill run up and down his spine. He turned and walked into his bedroom, snatching a red shirt with tribal markings around the sleeves and chest/back area. He snatched another shirt, one that looked a little too small for him. He threw the red shirt on the bed and started slipping the white compression shirt on over his upper body, having to put some effort into this. A few of the veins in each of his arms bulged a little more than usual because the sleeves of the shirt were lightly cutting off circulation, but not too bad. He could feel his heart beat as he grabbed his shirt of his bed, slipping it on over. He walked toward the door of this room, grabbing a pair of flip flops, pulling them in front of him so that he could slide them on.
He grabbed a zip up jacket which held his keys, wallet, phone, and a Zippo lighter, slipping it on before going to the elevator, pausing for a second after he touched it. "Music, Off. Lights, Off." As if by an act of god, the lights and music turned off and he opened the elevator, feeling an almost dangerous air slap him in the face. Something told him to stay home tonight, but he shrugged it off, walking through the door and locking it behind him. "I'll get used to that never..." He said, mentally slapping himself after he realized his faulty grammar showed again. On the trip down, there had only been a few people who had gotten on the elevator along with him, a couple of exceptionally good looking girls, one of which kept looking back at him and grinning, and another man who was dressed in something short of a business suit. He payed very little attention to any of them, trying to keep hold of his minds epicenter.
The elevator seemed like it took forever, making Sig a little irritated, but other wise, he was perfectly calm. He was the second person to leave the piece of machinery, heading into the parking garage not a few feet from the building. He pulled his keys from his pocket and turned to look up one of the ramps to the garage, feeling as if someone was watching him... But there wasn't a single solitary thing up there, just a small light which barely gave way to any sort of visibility, most of the light which was currently in the garage was just from the signs outside it. He sighed and unlocked his car when he was about 10 feet away from it, opening the door and sliding into the drivers seat seconds after.
Just as he sat down, his eyes were drawn to his rear view mirror for some reason, seeing a shadow move just slightly. He shook his head, feeling his nerves kick in. 'It's nothing...' he thought to himself, slipping the key into the ignition and starting the puppy up. He backed up slowly, then turned down the stretch of concrete out into the exit, catching the eye of what looked to be a new guard... He stared at him for half a second, but in that time, he already decided he didn't like him... He felt an almost dark presence about the man, but he too just shrugged it off. He looked both ways before pulling out into the street, having to gun it a little to get in the right lane.
"Hey Sig, go ahead and get in the elevator, go up to the top... They have something short of an Orientation up there for you guys." One of the employee's who Sig had only see a couple of times said, nodding his head toward the elevator. Sig nodded, popping his neck as he walked over to the center of the room. He had to push his way through a few people that randomly decided to stop a couple of inches in front of him randomly just because they felt the sudden urge to do so for some reason... This happened quite often and it really helped you keep you on your feet, at least if you didn't fell like pissing someone off. He ended up having to wait for one elevator to get back down, and then he stepped in and made his way to the top with a few other people... a couple of which were giving him weird vibes... Not like, bad, evil types like the guard had, but... Hell, he couldn't explain it even if he wanted to. The elevator opened and he walked out along with the others, scanning the room until he noticed a few people, who looked as if they were there for the same thing as himself, and slowly made his way over, noticing a majority of the restaurant being closed, and the cage having been set in the direct middle of the place. He could feel his anticipation peaking already...
His arms dangled at his sides, his fists curling up and then loosening up, flexing the muscles in his forearms. His eyes opened and a fire slowly began to gain strength, making a chill run up and down his spine. He turned and walked into his bedroom, snatching a red shirt with tribal markings around the sleeves and chest/back area. He snatched another shirt, one that looked a little too small for him. He threw the red shirt on the bed and started slipping the white compression shirt on over his upper body, having to put some effort into this. A few of the veins in each of his arms bulged a little more than usual because the sleeves of the shirt were lightly cutting off circulation, but not too bad. He could feel his heart beat as he grabbed his shirt of his bed, slipping it on over. He walked toward the door of this room, grabbing a pair of flip flops, pulling them in front of him so that he could slide them on.
He grabbed a zip up jacket which held his keys, wallet, phone, and a Zippo lighter, slipping it on before going to the elevator, pausing for a second after he touched it. "Music, Off. Lights, Off." As if by an act of god, the lights and music turned off and he opened the elevator, feeling an almost dangerous air slap him in the face. Something told him to stay home tonight, but he shrugged it off, walking through the door and locking it behind him. "I'll get used to that never..." He said, mentally slapping himself after he realized his faulty grammar showed again. On the trip down, there had only been a few people who had gotten on the elevator along with him, a couple of exceptionally good looking girls, one of which kept looking back at him and grinning, and another man who was dressed in something short of a business suit. He payed very little attention to any of them, trying to keep hold of his minds epicenter.
The elevator seemed like it took forever, making Sig a little irritated, but other wise, he was perfectly calm. He was the second person to leave the piece of machinery, heading into the parking garage not a few feet from the building. He pulled his keys from his pocket and turned to look up one of the ramps to the garage, feeling as if someone was watching him... But there wasn't a single solitary thing up there, just a small light which barely gave way to any sort of visibility, most of the light which was currently in the garage was just from the signs outside it. He sighed and unlocked his car when he was about 10 feet away from it, opening the door and sliding into the drivers seat seconds after.
Just as he sat down, his eyes were drawn to his rear view mirror for some reason, seeing a shadow move just slightly. He shook his head, feeling his nerves kick in. 'It's nothing...' he thought to himself, slipping the key into the ignition and starting the puppy up. He backed up slowly, then turned down the stretch of concrete out into the exit, catching the eye of what looked to be a new guard... He stared at him for half a second, but in that time, he already decided he didn't like him... He felt an almost dark presence about the man, but he too just shrugged it off. He looked both ways before pulling out into the street, having to gun it a little to get in the right lane.
A few minutes later, entering the Stratosphere
"Hey Sig, go ahead and get in the elevator, go up to the top... They have something short of an Orientation up there for you guys." One of the employee's who Sig had only see a couple of times said, nodding his head toward the elevator. Sig nodded, popping his neck as he walked over to the center of the room. He had to push his way through a few people that randomly decided to stop a couple of inches in front of him randomly just because they felt the sudden urge to do so for some reason... This happened quite often and it really helped you keep you on your feet, at least if you didn't fell like pissing someone off. He ended up having to wait for one elevator to get back down, and then he stepped in and made his way to the top with a few other people... a couple of which were giving him weird vibes... Not like, bad, evil types like the guard had, but... Hell, he couldn't explain it even if he wanted to. The elevator opened and he walked out along with the others, scanning the room until he noticed a few people, who looked as if they were there for the same thing as himself, and slowly made his way over, noticing a majority of the restaurant being closed, and the cage having been set in the direct middle of the place. He could feel his anticipation peaking already...
Rendition- Shadow
- Join date : 2009-06-22
Posts : 107
Age : 33
Location : Texas
Re: In Scripts of Red: IC
The car drive was somewhat long, but only because of the traffic. When, finally, the car came to a stop, Nick crawled out of the driver's side. Felicita flashed a grin to him as his fingers wrapped around the door. She moved her legs, letting her heels touch the pavement of the parking lot before she stood up, brushing her fingers over her skirt. Felicita narrowed her eyes at the bright lights, but soon adjusted. She reached forward, brushing her fingers down Nick's cheek, her thumb brushing over his lips. Like words appearing in her head, his emotions seemed to slip into her.
"Keep your pants on, don't be so excited." Felicita whispered to him, wrapping her arm around his waist and brushing her fingers over his side. "If you get cocky, you'll get your ass kicked." She then reminded him, slipping her hand away before she began to walk forward towards the giant glittering establishment.
The lights danced in mesmerizing fashions once they got inside, the people in perfect suits welcoming them. Felicita put on her best smile, soft baby blue hues rolling over the luxury here. She had never been to the Stratosphere, although Nick and her had done a little bit of exploring around the city before-hand. She reached into her bra, pulling out the small ticket she'd need to get into the fight. The fight itself was taking place in the Stratosphere's restaurant; all the way at the top of the tower. In the globe, high in the sky. It would be most interesting. For this special occasion, a celebration for the Stratosphere's anniversary. At the back of the front room, was an elevator, which Felicita moved straight towards. When inside, she smiled at the others within the room, and turned her head to Nick.
"So, Nick, are you ready for tonight? Remember, I told you that something is going to happen. Call it... a feeling." She grinned, watching the numbers light up and blink out, as the elevator crawled higher and higher, showing how many stories they rose. Finally, it dinged pleasantly and the doors slid open, revealing a bright open space that was usually a restaurant. But tonight it was a fight scene. In the center was a tall octagonal cage, with a soft MMA mat in the center. Around it was a space of metal stairs that led up to it, and then red ropes that people wouldn't be allowed to cross unless allowed in the fight. Elsewhere, some distance away from the cage, were small tables, set nearer the windows- for those who still chose to dine.
Felicita turned and winked at Nick, stepping forward as people began to swell into the Stratosphere globe. The atmosphere swirled around her, and she moved towards the ring, brushing her fingers over the wire of the cage. Scripts played like a hazy slideshow into her mind, her fingers latching onto one wire that seemed to hold something interesting.
A woman's fingers, long and olive, with sharp glassy nails of black. She leaned her head forward, and the face came into view. A slender face, full lips, olive skin and a stretch of black blindfold with a zipper running in the middle of it.
"Mhm..." Felicita whispered, taking a deep breath and stepping back from the cage...
"Keep your pants on, don't be so excited." Felicita whispered to him, wrapping her arm around his waist and brushing her fingers over his side. "If you get cocky, you'll get your ass kicked." She then reminded him, slipping her hand away before she began to walk forward towards the giant glittering establishment.
The lights danced in mesmerizing fashions once they got inside, the people in perfect suits welcoming them. Felicita put on her best smile, soft baby blue hues rolling over the luxury here. She had never been to the Stratosphere, although Nick and her had done a little bit of exploring around the city before-hand. She reached into her bra, pulling out the small ticket she'd need to get into the fight. The fight itself was taking place in the Stratosphere's restaurant; all the way at the top of the tower. In the globe, high in the sky. It would be most interesting. For this special occasion, a celebration for the Stratosphere's anniversary. At the back of the front room, was an elevator, which Felicita moved straight towards. When inside, she smiled at the others within the room, and turned her head to Nick.
"So, Nick, are you ready for tonight? Remember, I told you that something is going to happen. Call it... a feeling." She grinned, watching the numbers light up and blink out, as the elevator crawled higher and higher, showing how many stories they rose. Finally, it dinged pleasantly and the doors slid open, revealing a bright open space that was usually a restaurant. But tonight it was a fight scene. In the center was a tall octagonal cage, with a soft MMA mat in the center. Around it was a space of metal stairs that led up to it, and then red ropes that people wouldn't be allowed to cross unless allowed in the fight. Elsewhere, some distance away from the cage, were small tables, set nearer the windows- for those who still chose to dine.
Felicita turned and winked at Nick, stepping forward as people began to swell into the Stratosphere globe. The atmosphere swirled around her, and she moved towards the ring, brushing her fingers over the wire of the cage. Scripts played like a hazy slideshow into her mind, her fingers latching onto one wire that seemed to hold something interesting.
A woman's fingers, long and olive, with sharp glassy nails of black. She leaned her head forward, and the face came into view. A slender face, full lips, olive skin and a stretch of black blindfold with a zipper running in the middle of it.
"Mhm..." Felicita whispered, taking a deep breath and stepping back from the cage...
Eternity- Corporeal Spirit
- Join date : 2009-05-25
Posts : 3144
Age : 32
Location : SoBo, VA
Re: In Scripts of Red: IC
He walked up behind Felicita, his hand grazing her shoulder as she stepped away from the octagon. The vision flooded into his site and he saw the bombshell with the black zipper over her eyes. He sighed and sat his chin on her shoulder, using her as a balance to pull the pants from his waist, revealing a pair of yellow and black Sprawl board shorts. “Why is Lady Black here,” he asked quietly. “That means that something bad is definitely going to happen. She’s one of Chaos’s right hand Blind, so that means that he can’t be too far behind.”
He silenced himself out of fear that the people around him would start to think that he was crazy. He needed to focus, to put himself in the “zone” so that he would be ready for whatever the contender was able to throw at him. He pulled the button-down shirt off, his tight wife beater showing off the muscles underneath. He pulled an iPod from his pocket and stuffed the earbuds into his ears, hearing Sinergy’s cover of Number of the Beast flood his ears. He smiled softly and started to wrap his hands and wrists, then his ankles.
When he was done, he closed his eyes tightly so that no one could see the light emerge in his green hues. Even now, his own scripts danced in front of his eyes in the darkness. He reached a hand out to Felicita and laced his fingers between hers. A script of his slithered down his arm and wrapped around her wrist, showing out one solid message in her mind.
So, what’s the plan?
He silenced himself out of fear that the people around him would start to think that he was crazy. He needed to focus, to put himself in the “zone” so that he would be ready for whatever the contender was able to throw at him. He pulled the button-down shirt off, his tight wife beater showing off the muscles underneath. He pulled an iPod from his pocket and stuffed the earbuds into his ears, hearing Sinergy’s cover of Number of the Beast flood his ears. He smiled softly and started to wrap his hands and wrists, then his ankles.
When he was done, he closed his eyes tightly so that no one could see the light emerge in his green hues. Even now, his own scripts danced in front of his eyes in the darkness. He reached a hand out to Felicita and laced his fingers between hers. A script of his slithered down his arm and wrapped around her wrist, showing out one solid message in her mind.
So, what’s the plan?
Gunneh- Ghost
- Join date : 2009-05-23
Posts : 1451
Age : 34
Location : Greeneville, Tennessee
Re: In Scripts of Red: IC
Cullen scanned the room, it seemed for the 40th time since they had stepped off of the elevator - something about this reminded him of combat patrol, there was danger here - somewhere - he just needed to find the location. He peeked over again at Rachael, who had spent the last 15 minutes staring at the Las Vegas Strip from 800 feet above.
"Your table is ready, sir" The maître d' half yelled to them over the din of the people filling into the seats of the makeshift arena that had been constructed in the center of the Top Of The World restaraunt. "I am sorry that your wait was so long, this event is quite a hot ticket." He led them to a small dining table with view of both the windows and the Octagon.
Sitting down, Cullen again was overcome by that feeling of being watched, but the strange man from the Casino floor had not come up the elevator, and no one else here seemed to be any threat,. He looked over the fighters, but didn't recognize any of them who were warming up near the ring - had he really been out of the game that long?
Rachael saw danger and hope - there were a number of people here who were somehow connected to the dark men, they all had the same colors as most of the people that she had seen before, but there was a ring of black, darker than night itself that ringed every aspect of their lives. There were others though, brighter than any she had known, like the followers of the dark, they possessed the same colors as everyone else, but brighter, glowing, shining enough to blur the edges of the blues and green and reds that surrounded them. Rachael smiled.
Cullen found himself measuring up the fighters, most of them were obviously amateurs, a few carried themselves like they knew what they were doing. Then a strange feeling came over Cullen, and his fingers began to tingle - he quickly turned his head to Rachael and saw that she was smiling... The creature was a few feet from the girl, it was emitting a strange gurgling, triumphant laugh, Cullen screamed then and Rachael awoke. The bodyguard desperately launched himself across the room at the man-thing, he didn't notice the odd tingling across his body as he was engulfed in a green shimmering sheath... That was the same tingling that he felt now, the girl felt the impending danger too.
"Your table is ready, sir" The maître d' half yelled to them over the din of the people filling into the seats of the makeshift arena that had been constructed in the center of the Top Of The World restaraunt. "I am sorry that your wait was so long, this event is quite a hot ticket." He led them to a small dining table with view of both the windows and the Octagon.
Sitting down, Cullen again was overcome by that feeling of being watched, but the strange man from the Casino floor had not come up the elevator, and no one else here seemed to be any threat,. He looked over the fighters, but didn't recognize any of them who were warming up near the ring - had he really been out of the game that long?
Rachael saw danger and hope - there were a number of people here who were somehow connected to the dark men, they all had the same colors as most of the people that she had seen before, but there was a ring of black, darker than night itself that ringed every aspect of their lives. There were others though, brighter than any she had known, like the followers of the dark, they possessed the same colors as everyone else, but brighter, glowing, shining enough to blur the edges of the blues and green and reds that surrounded them. Rachael smiled.
Cullen found himself measuring up the fighters, most of them were obviously amateurs, a few carried themselves like they knew what they were doing. Then a strange feeling came over Cullen, and his fingers began to tingle - he quickly turned his head to Rachael and saw that she was smiling... The creature was a few feet from the girl, it was emitting a strange gurgling, triumphant laugh, Cullen screamed then and Rachael awoke. The bodyguard desperately launched himself across the room at the man-thing, he didn't notice the odd tingling across his body as he was engulfed in a green shimmering sheath... That was the same tingling that he felt now, the girl felt the impending danger too.
Re: In Scripts of Red: IC
He had been watching the Japanese girl since she had come into the Straosphere. The girl seemed out of place and rather bored. She had been on that phone ever since she got in. Slowly, the man stood and walked towards her. As he passed her by, he dropped a ticket down into her lap. He glanced back just in time to see her looked up, that cute little face looked rather confused.
She had been texting her friends back home when a ticket floated down into her lap. A Script was attached to it. She ran her fingers over it slowly, reading the message that was left on it. “Enjoy the fight?” Yuriko said, her Japanese accent making her stand out more than she already did. The girl picked up the ticket and read it carefully. This was a ticket for the fight that was supposed to go on upstairs in the restaurant. Well, she had nothing better to do, so Yuriko went to find the elevator that would take her up.
Once finding the elevator, she stepped onto it and relaxed as it went up. She took a small black ear bud from her left pocket and pulled on it, making it stretch up to her ear. She put it in her little ear and then made a circular motion on her pocket. That turned the volume up as some Jrock band blasted in her ear. She sang along since no one else was on the elevator with her. It was a long ride up and this was how she passed the time.
The elevator stopped and the girl stepped off. She made the motion on her pocket again and the volume died from the ear bud. She placed it back in her pocket and the small girl sat at an empty table towards the back of the room. Her chocolate eyes were scanning the crowd when she spotted the man and woman from before. So that man was fighting tonight was he? This should be interesting. Her phone vibrated and she pulled it from her pocket, texting her friends to tell them about the American boxing match she was about to watch and that they should leave her alone until it was over with. She put her phone on silent and then shoved it back in her pocket.
As she sat there, Yuriko noticed something was off. Too many people in here were making her feel weird. It was like that time she had fought that Blind. Everything seemed to be moving too slow for her taste. She caught sight of a few other people, something seemed so familiar about them. Part of her wanted to think they were Readers too, but she highly doubted it. She bit her lower lip and sighed. Something was going to happen soon, she could feel it.
She had been texting her friends back home when a ticket floated down into her lap. A Script was attached to it. She ran her fingers over it slowly, reading the message that was left on it. “Enjoy the fight?” Yuriko said, her Japanese accent making her stand out more than she already did. The girl picked up the ticket and read it carefully. This was a ticket for the fight that was supposed to go on upstairs in the restaurant. Well, she had nothing better to do, so Yuriko went to find the elevator that would take her up.
Once finding the elevator, she stepped onto it and relaxed as it went up. She took a small black ear bud from her left pocket and pulled on it, making it stretch up to her ear. She put it in her little ear and then made a circular motion on her pocket. That turned the volume up as some Jrock band blasted in her ear. She sang along since no one else was on the elevator with her. It was a long ride up and this was how she passed the time.
The elevator stopped and the girl stepped off. She made the motion on her pocket again and the volume died from the ear bud. She placed it back in her pocket and the small girl sat at an empty table towards the back of the room. Her chocolate eyes were scanning the crowd when she spotted the man and woman from before. So that man was fighting tonight was he? This should be interesting. Her phone vibrated and she pulled it from her pocket, texting her friends to tell them about the American boxing match she was about to watch and that they should leave her alone until it was over with. She put her phone on silent and then shoved it back in her pocket.
As she sat there, Yuriko noticed something was off. Too many people in here were making her feel weird. It was like that time she had fought that Blind. Everything seemed to be moving too slow for her taste. She caught sight of a few other people, something seemed so familiar about them. Part of her wanted to think they were Readers too, but she highly doubted it. She bit her lower lip and sighed. Something was going to happen soon, she could feel it.
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» In Scripts of Red : ooc
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