Atrophy

The Origin: A War Resumed (Arc One; Completed)

@The Darklight ProjectGood to go!

Although the implication that you'll dismember us if we do not speak up is kind of morbid, boss...

Amongst the Lonesome- A return to Santa Somabra [Fantasy Noir]

The sun was beginning to peek down at Valorie as she watched the cab drive off, the silhouette of—My what? Guardian? Mentor? Or..—disappearing behind a corner. The book he had given her was pressed close against her chest, his card serving as a bookmark for the parts she had already devoured while in the cab. His parting gift, a cigarette, burned slowly in her mouth as she backed up beneath an awning. A quick scan of the streets revealed to her that she was in a safe enough part of town, all things considered. Violent crimes still happened in the nice parts of Santa Somabra, but they always happened quietly behind closed doors and came only after astronomical exchanges of currency. She doubted she’d run into one of the Fifth Street Rats seeking retribution, assuming that masked monster from the night before had let any of them slip away. Somehow she doubted it, but she still felt uncomfortable. Anxious. Watched.

She looked at the reddish runes on her right hand. At a quick glance or to the untrained eye they looked like little more than overzealous scribblings of an aspiring art student working part-time as a bouncer who had, once again, failed to catch her fake ID. Valorie knew the markings would fade away, and she wouldn’t say that she was completely upset with having Francis be able to know where she was. Considering how she had almost become another statistic last night, she could even convince herself that it was a good thing.

The discomfort came from somewhere else then. She did feel out of place in this part of town. True, she was safe from any wandering Rats, because they knew not to shove their coked-up little noses into these more civilized parts of town—if the cartels and mafias didn’t beat them back into the sewers and slums, then the cops did. She knew she wasn’t safe from them. Valorie had seen her face in the rearview mirror of the cab. She didn’t know what made her uglier: her new busted lip or her bruised cheek that was plum purple. Valorie had ignored the questioning glances the cabbie threw between his two passengers—Who gave a fuck what a cab driver thought? But, as she slowly smoked her only cigarette, she could only think that the only way to make her stick out more as a Rat to cops and thugs would have been to throw on some Mickey Mouse ears, paint some whiskers around her nose, and stand on the corner of the street while shooting junk into her veins. It was only a matter of time before she would be hassled.

The feeling was made worse by the knowledge that she would still end up in a car with a goddamn cop regardless of what happened while she waited. Her phone had gone missing (as well as the rest of her stuff) but she knew it would be insane to try and find him at the station, so she had Francis text Rich to come pick her up in front of this fancy restaurant. And there the devil was, pulling up to the sidewalk in a stylish sports car that was well beyond the paygrade of a typical cop. Valorie walked up to the passenger door of the car. Instead of getting in immediately, she leaned forward as far as she could while resting her elbows on the frame of the rolled-down window.

“You seem so used to this,” she said, blowing smoke into the leather interior. “You used to picking up girls off the street corner?”

“Just get in,” said Rich, his expression unreadable behind his reflective sunglasses. Ray-bans, of fucking course, thought Valorie, as she added sunglasses to the increasing list of her personal possessions that were now missing. Maybe Rich would have them in a handy little bag of evidence for her. She straightened up and pulled at the handle. It caught on the lock and did not open. “No smoking.”

Sighing, she took one last giant drag and put her hands on her hips, cocking her head as if to ask if he was happy. She watched herself in the reflection of her glasses as the breath she was holding made the rest of her face match her bruise and then exhaled loudly, coughing as a cloud of smoke erupted from her mouth. Say what you will about Rich, but Valorie had to commend him on being able to avoid most of her bullshit. She jumped in the car. It was comfortable, roomy, light years nicer than the POS she had sold when she had first come to this city. After another staring match with her reflection, she buckled her seatbelt.

“You know how to suck all the cool out of a Lamborghini,” said Valorie, putting her feet on the dash.

“It’s a Ferrari.”

“It’s a Ferrari,” she echoed, mockingly. “The point remains. You still suck.”

“It’s good to see you too, Valorie.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me about my night?”

“What is there to ask?” said Rich, casting her a sideways glance as he put the car into drive and pulled out onto the street.

“Oh, I don’t fucking know man, maybe ask about how I almost died? Or how my cover is now probably fucking blown because you sent a goddamn cop after me? How about if I’m just okay? I did just see a bunch of my friends die, so yeah, why should we talk about that? Fuck!” While she had friends in the Rats, she didn’t really consider the Fifth Street Rats her friends. Still, she felt saying that drove home her point better. Which was this: “At least apologize to me. This was all your fucking fault!”

There was a stretch of silence as they drove, the expensive car tearing loudly through the mostly empty streets. She didn’t know where the hell they were going, but the silence was driving her mad as the car took a left, and then a right, and then another right. It bumped against the curb as Rich steered it into a parking garage, circling the floors until they were on the top level. Valorie looked out through the tinted windows; there were no cars up here at all despite the rest of the garage having been packed from the office crowd. It was eerie. She felt the car rock as Rich put it into park. Then Valorie heard something she hadn’t been expecting: a chuckle. Rich smirked at her from behind his glasses as he turned his body to hers. A small, scared little girl way in over her head stared back at her in the reflection of his glasses. She saw the girl jump as the thunk of the locks sliding into place hammered in her ears.

“All my fault?” he said, shaking his head while chuckling even more. “Little girl, do you ever think before you speak, or have the drugs completely rotted away whatever tiny amount of gray matter that was there in the first place?”

“You were the one who gave me the drugs,” she said, bitterly.

“Of course you forgot our little blood test on day one,” said Rich, a coy smile on his face. “I don’t send straight-edge squares to roll around in needle dens, just like I don’t send tainted gutter trash to be sucked on by the Nyctari or their clientele. It’s my job to put people in their place. And I am I good at my job.”

“You’re a—” He pulled a gun on her.

“Valorie, I’m sorry, but will you shut your fucking whore mouth for one goddamn second? I can’t stand the fucking sound of your voice,” he said. She did. He smiled. “That’s better. Thank you. It’s so annoying the way you always have to interrupt me.”

She saw her reflection in his glasses biting her lip, reopening the small cut. Rich continued:

“You broke procedure. You disobeyed my orders. You don’t involve yourself in any activities with the Rats unless you get my permission beforehand, not while it’s happening. And you do not ignore any messages I send you. If you had waited for Cain like I told you to, then you would not have been targeted by that woman, and you would not having almost killed yourself. The only reason you’re alive,” he pointed a finger at her and repeated, “the only goddamn reason you’re alive is because I sent someone to help you. So don’t blame me because you’re an idiot who doesn’t know to do what they are told. If anything, you should apologize to me.”

“Go f—”

“I told you,” said Rich, clicking off the safety. “Stop interrupting.”

“Whatever man,” said Valorie, finding her courage. “You wouldn’t go through all of the trouble of sending someone to protect me if you were just going to kill me.”

“You think I wouldn’t enjoy shooting another Rat?” said Rich.

“Not at all. I think pigs like you get their rocks off by gunning down stupid needle freaks that nobody will protest about,” she said. “But you wouldn’t have driven such a nice car if you had planned to blow my brains out all over the upholstery.”

“I can’t tell if you’re smarter or dumber than you look,” he said, revealing the missing magazine and the empty chamber on the gun. Valorie shrugged.

“So was this your attempt at scaring me straight or something?” said Valorie. “Because you blew it.”

Rich smiled. “I wasn’t finished.”

“And I’m the one who doesn’t know how to shut up,” she muttered under her breath.

“You got lucky, Valorie. You don’t really get how good it is that I’m the one handling you. The other guys? They would have dumped your body in the sewers the first time you fucked up, but me, I’m different. I take care of my girls, and I can see that you actually have some potential. I’m not going to let one bump in the road sour our friendship.” The word sounded artificial coming from his mouth. He ignored her eyeroll. “Fortunately there was no evidence that you were involved in that botch job.” So he didn’t have her stuff. Had Sander grabbed it? “Which is good, because my superiors have a need for someone in the Rats for something major they have been planning. Consider this job to be your apology. Do good enough on it and I’ll forget this little screw up ever happened.”

“What is it?” asked Valorie.

“I’ll let you know soon enough. Until then I need you to lay low. Keep your nose clean,” said Rich. “Seriously. Layoff the drugs. You’ll need a clear mind for this job.”

“Easy enough,” said Valorie. Rich shot her a look and then laughed again. She frowned.

“If you say so, Valorie. Now get the fuck out of my car,” he said, unlocking the door. “You smell like a meth lab.”

She was about to protest that it hadn’t been her fault that she had not been able to shower in several days, but realized that Rich would just turn it around on her again. She stepped out of the car, double checking to make sure that Cain’s book was still securely hidden under her shirt. The engine roared to life, the Ferrari whipping out of its parking spot and circling around the empty rooftop lot before he stopped once again alongside Valorie. She briefly hoped that perhaps he was going to actually drive her to where she needed to go, or at least to the bottom of the damn parking garage. The window rolled down, revealing Rich’s face. He had taken off his sunglasses; an intense stare locked her eyes on his. The hope she had dashed from her skull, streaked across the rooftop, leapt from the ledge, and splattered messily onto the pavement below.

“Remember Valorie, I am here to help you. I take care of my girls, okay?” he said, smirking. “So if you fuck up again, I’ll pick you up in a plastic-lined Pinto. Am I clear?”

“As day,” she said as the man drove off.

The Origin: A War Resumed (Arc One; Completed)

@drummer-dan@Raijinslayer Here ya go:

Perhaps if he did not immediately pass out once they made camp he’d have the opportunity to get to properly know the man. Assuming of course he didn’t distract himself with a little bit of innocent flirting--his eyes glanced between Diana and Lyrena. He heard Joy scoff next to him. How did she!?

He had overheard from someone that Calypso and Etsuko would not be joining them on their trek North. He was disappointed by that bit of news. Having a fortune teller would certainly have been advantageous, and the two were certainly more pleasant to look at than the smoldering villages and dirt road.

Still, Raijin is right. Ennis is looking just to look; he has no real desire for anyone other than his wife. That said, Arvis sure as hell wouldn't know that Ennis was married or meant little actual harm, so...

The Origin: A War Resumed (Arc One; Completed)

@RaijinslayerJoy and Shadar can form a club where they both just glare at people and grunt disapprovingly.

The Origin: A War Resumed (Arc One; Completed)

@RaijinslayerFuck it! Ennis and Drosil are totally going to make some BFF bracelets, create a handshake, and form a secret club. No girls or Cyril allowed.

The Origin: A War Resumed (Arc One; Completed)

@RaijinslayerGood news! Ennis is totally going to try to become besties with Drosil!

_{You have been warned.}

The Origin: A War Resumed (Arc One; Completed)

Ennis

Whatever calm, cool, and collected look Ennis was trying to balance on his face was wiped away quicker than the excited Sir Mauls had bowled over the man he had to assume to be Drosil, judging by the noise of disgust and quiet curse emitted by Vesta as he arrived on the scene, as the Deathcrawler turned and clicked its bloody mandibles at him. His eyes grew wide as the beastly creature approached him, the disrobing wizard giving Ennis a set of instructions that the man did not need—it wasn’t fear in his eyes, but boyish excitement. He had read all about Deathcrawlers when he was just a sickly, bedridden boy. Like a spoiled little princess demanding a pony, Ennis had pestered his folks incessantly for a giant, man-eating centipede. He was forced to settle on the stuffed animal version one of his caretakers had made for him. Mister Leggy was now in the care of his daughter. His face darkened, praying that Nia had been able to assist his family in their flight to the Kirun. He didn’t have too long to brood as Sir Mauls began to feel his face with his antennae or, as Ennis imagined it, gave him Deathcrawler kisses as if the thing was a giant puppy.

“How wonderful!” exclaimed Ennis to himself as the Deathcrawler moved on to the next lucky person. He turned and gave Vesta a look, grinning like an idiot. Her gloved hand was pinching the bridge of her nose; her head was slowly rocking back and forth. “I think he likes me.”

He was too giddy from his close encounter of the many-legged kind to notice Drosil’s usage of magic. Instead, he kept his gleaming eyes focused solely on the Deathcrawler. Ennis felt something inside of him twist in pain when the pigtailed woman insulted the mighty creature. How can you call him an ant, thought Ennis, a look of shock and befuddlement on his face. He was about to correct the woman, knowing that certainly the only way someone could make such a mistake would only be out of sheer ignorance, when Drosil beat him to the punch. It was then for the first time that Ennis truly paid attention to the man as he lectured the girl on anything and everything about Deathcrawlers. He began nodding along in earnest interest as the man started delving into things he hadn’t even known about in regards to the creatures. He recalled Vesta comparing the man to him. Truly, it had been a compliment to be considered anyway similar to a man of such intelligence. Perhaps he’d teach me what some of those words mean in a more common tongue! Surely, a man as well versed as Drosil would be able to rid this loud woman of her misconceptions regarding one of the few good things to ever come out of Jasi.

”I don’t know how stupid you think I am, but I’m pretty sure that I know what a fucking ant looks like.”

A soft cry came from Ennis as whatever her words had originally twisted in side of him now broken completely. How could someone be so ignorant? he thought, glaring at the woman as he walked over to Drosil and Sir Mauls. He stopped as she yelled something again and, upon noticing it wasn’t towards him, took two long strides and slid up next to Drosil’s side.

“Unbelievable how some people can completely lack manners,” said Ennis. “Personally, I think it’d be best if we let the Prince handle her; I’d love for you to continue on with what you were saying.” Ennis snapped his fingers as he remembered something from his childhood. “Is it true that Deathcrawlers cannot survive in cold or mountainous regions?”

Vesta

Vesta hadn’t removed her hand from her head. Normally, when one drank they had headaches after their buzz had cleared, but all of this was causing her noggin to feel as if it was about to split right open. That self-righteous mage was back, and Ennis was acting like a damn child. Vesta had been mistaken about Alasa choking that woman, no, man because he spoke way too much. She at first suspected the alcohol was playing tricks on her ears before realizing that the man just did not know how to properly form a sentence. All she could hear as he talked was the out of place words. The brat with him yelled like she was a drill sergeant, and it made Vesta worry if that was what she had sounded like back when she was a captain of the guard, barking at her men to work harder. Regardless, all of the noise formed a perfect knot in her head, but they weren’t the true source of her headache.

No, that pain came when Cyril invoked his princely powers and had drafted them into their ragtag band of misfits. By the time they got to Gurata she feared that there would be a big enough train of imbeciles who could wield a sword following behind them that the Guratans would think that Cyril had come to start an invasion, not an allegiance. Besides, they did not know these people. True, they had defended this village, but it did not mean they had good intentions. She knew this only because she would have fought until she was red of tooth and claw if she had been caught in this damn backwater when the H’kelans had come. Of course, she would certainly not have been able to drive the H’kelans back without some fatalities, herself most likely included.

For two people to be able to do what they did meant one of two things to Vesta. One, either they were incredibly dangerous in terms of raw power, or, two, they were frauds. H’kela had plenty of spies in Barcea that could have reported the Prince’s route to the North. I have no real proof, thought Vesta, casting a suspicious eye towards Ennis without removing her face from her hand. Still, she felt as if there was some sense in her doubt of the two angels, and she knew that it was wise to never trust a damn Cade, especially one who decided to be a politician. It just all felt wrong to her, like it was a setup. Worse of all, the fucking Prince didn’t suspect a thing. Olain hadn’t raised his boy to soft, but had years under Kori’s rule soften his heart and his head? I love Kori to death, thought Vesta. But she always was too idealistic and trusting for her own good. She had proof this time in the shape of Ennis. It’s fitting for her. It’s not fitting for Olain’s son.

Somebody would have to set him straight, and of course the only one capable of doing that would be her.

“Cyril,” she said, dropping her usual formalities as she touched his shoulder. “I need to talk with you. In private,” she said, before politely adding, “at your earliest convenience.”

The Origin: A War Resumed (Arc One; Completed)

Just keep thinking mate, it'll come to you.

@The Darklight Project

Okay, so I've made several diagrams, bar graphs, and data tables in the past day while considering this, and all of them have concluded that you guys are mean.

VIGILANCE: Sanctuary

@Lord WraithShit, it does look like that now that I re-read it. Here's what I meant:

I am all for evil corporate execs punching yes men and negligently handing out (stun) guns to mobs of angry people.

VIGILANCE: Sanctuary

@ShadoWolfYou can create a topic in the Suggestions/Problem sub-forum and ask them to remove accidental posts.

@Lord WraithNow, as a red-blooded American I am normally all for evil corporate execs punching yes men and negligently handing out (stun) guns to mobs of angry people, but...nope. That's the end of my thought. Will we be getting a Week 2 discussion topic soon?