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[indent][color=silver]Today wasn’t different than any other day in the life of The Crimson Arc: run errands for various low-level [i]criminals[/i] in Backend. In return, Arc would get paid. It was a simple system that had worked for so long and went without a hitch. However, as much as Arc would’ve loved for this day to be perfect and completely regular, there was something wrong. The Telepath — the self-proclaimed kingpin of Backend — didn’t show up for the meeting that Arc had with him. 


Usually the way it went down every day was that the Crimson Arc met with The Telepath every week. It was a once-per-week system. In return for doing some not-so-legal errands for him, The Crimson Arc got protection from other hoodrats of Backend. However, that was not the case. And because it didn’t happen, Arc got worried, frantic even.


“[color=crimson]There’s no reason to panic,[/color]” Crimson Arc told himself as he started to internally panic. “[color=crimson]I can meet with someone else, and it’ll all be grand.[/color]” Crimson Arc kept trying to assure himself that all was well within the kingdom, and that there was no need to panic.


As a few minutes passed and Crimson waited in a dark alleyway by his lonesome, he tried to pass the time with some mental song. It seemed to be working. It was helping him not focus on the bad and instead remain optimistic. Of course, like all good things, it came to an end when he heard his other name being called out. That ruined his funk right away.


“[color=crimson]Whoa man, that’s not cool![/color]” The Crimson Arc called out. He searched for who said his other name, but his eyes betrayed him. Damn darkness. “[color=crimson]Where are you?! I can’t see![/color]”


“Maybe take off your sunglasses.” The same voice said.


Oh right, I had forgotten about them. 


Crimson took them off. It was a force of habit. He always had them on, so it never occurred to him to take them off when he turned the corner to the alleyway he currently was in. It was a good thing that person was so courteous to advise him like that, because he saw light. It was probably too bright compared to the darkness he saw previously, because he found himself squinting. It would take him a moment to be able to adjust to the light.


In front of him, there was a few men. He counted, one, two, three, “[color=crimson]five men,[/color]” and that wasn’t including the one in the center. Compared to those around him, he stood out like a sore thumb. Pudgy and round, he looked like a guy that ate too much of his fill at the dinner table. He wore flamboyant colors. A v-neck T-shirt of bright pink, pants violet, shoes bright yellow, and a jacket and belt that were jeweled to the point that it was potentially overdone. Not to mention the fact that his hair had so many different colors that Crimson assumed he was a rainbow made into a man. This man was Telepath’s lackey? No way.


“[color=crimson]How did you know my name?[/color]” Crimson Arc asked.


“Everyone knows who you are, [i]Dominic[/i].” 


There it was again. A name that was so pedestrian. It lacked a certain style and pizzazz. He didn’t dislike it, but Crimson Arc was worthy of something far more stylistic. That’s why he gave himself the moniker of ‘The Crimson Arc’. It was eye-popping, catchy, and it kind of went with his overall persona. And it just sounded cool. Shinto disagreed, but since when did Shinto know about style?


He gritted his teeth, aiming not to speak without thinking. Well, there was a first time for everything. “[color=crimson]So, what do they call you?[/color]” The Crimson Arc asked.


“Glitz — Glitz Glamour.” He said it with pride. How could someone be proud of that name? And what’s even worse, he said it dressed in that excessively-bright outfit of his.


Arc, through all of his willpower, resisted making fun of [i]Glitz[/i]. Instead, he gave a grin. “[color=crimson]Well, Glitz, do you have it or not?[/color]”


“I might, but what do I get in return of handing this over to you?” Glitz inquired.


“[color=crimson]You should know the answer to that. You work for Telepath, don’t you?[/color]”


Glitz nodded, though there was a hint of vexation in the way he nodded. Arc caught that maybe he didn’t like Telepath. Then again, what did Arc know? He was wrong about these kind of things many times. 


“[color=crimson]So, then what’s the hold up? I don’t got all day![/color]”


“Ah yes, this is true. I’m sure time is of the essence.”


“[color=crimson]Good, then we’re in[/color]” — Arc saw Glitz approach him.


“However, I don’t think I will hand this over so willingly, or at least not without a promise.”


Arc should have known this. A betrayal of the worst kind. God, why did he have to go against every principle he had to meet with someone other than Telepath? He should’ve trusted his gut feeling, and waited for another day. But nope, he had to be impatient and impulsive. Curse everything!


“[color=crimson]Fine,[/color]” Arc said, “[color=crimson]what do you want?[/color]” 


“Help me and my organization of finely-dressed Glamour Goons overthrow Telepath. Do that, and what you came to meet me here is yours.” Glitz told Arc.


That’s it? That’s nothing. Arc was certain that he was going to ask something far greater than just that. It seemed to be a very reasonable request. Though, as with everything, there might be a catch. And if not, then it was a win-win for Dominic(Arc’s taking a break now).


“[color=crimson]Fine. I will help you.[/color]”


“Then we’re in agreement.” Gltiz said. That bastard stole what I was going to say.


“[color=crimson]Now, can I have it?[/color]”


Glitz snapped his jeweled-fingers. One of the one of his less-than flamboyantly-dressed henchmen reached into their pocket. He pulled out a piece of paper. He handed it to Dominic. He pocketed it as soon as it got into his hands. One thing that he knew was that Glitz no doubt would probably want something from him, so he didn’t want to run the risk of some favor [i]suddenly[/i] being asked.


Just as he was about to walk away, Dominic stopped half-turn. “Oh Dominic, one more thing.” Glitz said. Dominic cursed under his breath. He turned around. He said nothing — he simply gave Glitz and The Glamour Goons. “I do hope you don’t do anything you’re going to regret. We might be under the radar here in Backend, but you still represent our interests.” Glitz said rather ominously. 


Dominic had half of a mind to ask what Glitz meant by that. He almost did, but the moment passed. And as the next five hours would go on, the intrigue of what that flamboyant show off meant was gone. Dominic’s wee-little mind had a shift in focus. 


As he left the streets of Backend and ventured into another section of the slums of Ominar, Dominic remembered what the note read before he had burned it to a crisp. It had directions to some warehouse. He had to go through a lot of trouble to get that series of directions. It was almost impossible, but DOminic did it. What’s even more, he found himself not getting lost. It was amazing really. Dominic was the kind of guy who didn’t take directions well. He was the kind of guy that needed to be led by someone who wasn’t directionally-challenged. He’s always been this way since the first time he met Shinto, who happened to be missing. That bastard!


Taking a right at the next street, Dominic seemed to be close. The directions said to look for a rather specific warehouse. It would be the one that you’d least expect. Dominic sure was sure the one he was looking directly at right now was the one that the note was referring to. Whether or not it was, he was about to find out, now wasn’t he?


As he approached it, Dominic stopped for a brief moment. Something in his gut was giving him an off-feeling. What if this wasn’t the right place? What if I’m being led into a trap by Glitz? Or worse, what if the PRae knew someone was actively seeking to join their opposition? Maybe Glitz was in cahoots with them all this time and I just fell for it because he was Telepath’s number two? 


Dominic uncharacteristically froze where he stood, simply five paces away from the warehouse. He would fight something from within himself that forbade him walking any further. No matter how much his body was willing, his mind wasn’t. It crippled the large man, not just in how he was doubting himself, but the fact he came here alone without Shinto. Not like he was anywhere to be found when Dominic had went back to their house. 


And then something happened with Dominic. He heard something akin to a kick on his butt. He didn’t know if it was a physical kick or if his mind was playing tricks on him. What he did know was that he stumbled forward.


To Dominic, it didn’t seem like he was going [i]that[/i] fast as he stumbled, but he covered those five paces in three seconds, and he burst through the doors of the warehouse. Forward he went, and he was three paces into the warehouse, eyes all on him. It took him a moment and a half to collect himself.


Dominic lowly coughed. He struck a pose. Legs were spread out to the same length his broad shoulders were, arms were upraised at the sky, “[color=crimson]HELLO PEOPLE OF THE WAREHOUSE![/color]” Dominic said loudly, “[color=crimson]I AM THE CRIMSON ARC,[/color]” Dominic twirled around, sparks of red lighting emitting from his feet. He jumped into a half-corkscrew, the lighting trailing around him, “[color=crimson]I HEARD THROUGH THE FLAMBOYANT GRAPEVINE THAT THIS IS WHERE THE ‘I HATE THE PRAE’ FANCLUB IS MEETING![/color]” Dominic landed on his left foot, hunched forward, arms placed in a way that created the illusion he was about to take to a sprint, which he did up closer to the group of people, “[color=crimson]where do I sign up?[/color]”

Nailed it.

As his eyes focused, Dominic couldn't believe it. There was nobody here. Not only that, but there was absolutely no sign of anyone being here recently. Did he get the wrong place? No, he was certain this was the place. Then what gave? Maybe he was too late? Of course he was. That was the only explanation. And because of that, Dominic roared loudly, his frustrations probably being heard throughout the entire warehouse district.[/color][/indent]