Pundii

Abandoned Hope - Concluded

@Morose

Abandoned Hope - Concluded

Liam Matthews

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Location: Aunt Sue's Inn #10
Interacting With: Aloise Zamora, Sariel @Morose

---

Laying in somewhat of a daze below Sariel, Liam watched as the attackers piled into the war and came after Aloise. He lay there, stunned with wear as he slowly raised the gun in his shakey hand, aiming toward the two attacking Aloise, but not pulling the trigger as his hand simply shook. He almost felt relieved when the weapon was taken from him, Liam had never really fired it before, just kept it on him for safety, he'd never actually expected to reach a point in his life where he would have to use it, and even then he was helpless.

As Sariel moved him into the corner, Liam felt completely helpless. Or rather, he realized that was the case, he was in way over his head, he was a reporter, for gods sake, and now all of a sudden he was some Prophet of god? As Sariel spoke, asking him to make the attackers 'unclean' - it only further reinforced in his mind just how useless he was right then, he had no idea how to do anything to help, or if he could do anything, Sariel seemed content on keeping him out of harms way as much as possible as he looked past her toward Aloise, watching as she rolled into the wall along with Mason.

He glanced back and forth between Aloise and Mason, sitting up in the corner as he watched it all unfold. "Help her!" He urged Sariel, turning back to Aloise, trying to think of how best he could help the woman which wouldn't just get him killed.

---

---

Darren Andrews

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Location: 1 Grant Road
Interacting With: Jade Cornish, Reverend Adder @Morose

---

Lowering his gun for a second, Darren glanced between it and Jade as he saw that the shot had struck her leg, he had bad luck from time to time, rotten luck, really, but this was just ridiculous. He chalked it up to a side-effect of selling your soul, though as he heard her once she'd finished her swearing, he looked back up toward her, and found it impossible to actually suppress something of a smile as he watched the woman. She hadn't said much at all on the way there, but the adrenalin rush of a bullet had managed to wake her up, maybe he'd done her a favour.

"That was just for makin' me bring you back!" He joked, not bothering now with the bullets, half-expecting a shot to ricochet and hit him if he fired again as he charged toward the Reverand, grabbing whatever was handy and heavy-looking on the way as he brought it high into the air, swinging it down toward the Reverand's head. He didn't even know if he'd be able to kill the man, he just wanted to get him out of the way so he and Jade could get moving, after all, they had pressing matters to attend to, end of the world or otherwise.

---

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Javier Crypt

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Location: Crypt Manor
Interacting With: Belladonna Crypt, @Lady Amalthea Zombies

---

Letting his dearest Belladonna go off to find her weapon, Javier let himself slide into the routine of battle. He stepped out of the way incoming hands clawing and grabbing at him, twirling about the polearm he held as he did so, severing a few limbs from time to time as he seemed quite content to be toying with the horde. Even as some of them picked up weapons, he blocked, parried and disarmed as he made his way through the horde contentedly. One of the good things about immortality was the fact he felt no fear in situations such as this, sure he could've lost a limb or two, but they were always able to be re-attached.

It wasn't long before his bare chest was painted a slight red hue from the blood he was shedding as he heard Mercurial in trouble. Turning his gaze, he saw that his darling was already dealing with it. As she moved to their daughter's side, he began to carve his way toward them, spinning and twirling his glaive as he moved, continuing to slice off limbs as he went, along with the occasional head, flicking blood all over the room, oh well, the cleaners were used to blood at this point.

Reaching the two of them, he pushed just past them, stabbing forward as his blade split a zombie's head completely in half, gaze shifting back over to them as he leaned down, planting a kiss to the top of Mercurial's head. "All good, mi amor?" He asked, toward them both.

Abandoned Hope - Concluded

@Morose Worry not, you get mate's rates!

Abandoned Hope - Concluded

@Morose

Got caught up with uni work but i'll be posting tonight or your money back.

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

Scott Fairburne

---

Location: Imperial Apartments -> AfterDark

---

The Imperial Apartments were, well and truly, a new Harlem in Scott's eyes. Drug dealers, gun runners and addicts crammed into the same set of buildings, everybody fucked with everyone else, everyone except Scott that was. Scott figured he might've been the only one in those apartments completely clean, well, not completely, that word didn't apply to anyone in Justice, Scott just had less stains. He made his way down the hall, past a few of the addicts in the halls and a few thugs, one of them he could see still had a black eye, his own doing from the other day, man had been screwing with some student in an alley below the building while Scott came home from work. It hadn't gone well for him.

He might've been known by just about everyone in the building, but Scott still had a way of blending in so that everyone ignored him, the Imperial might've been a shit hole, but it was the shadows, and he liked staying in the shadows. Making his way down to the street, Scott started to make his way down toward AfterDark. Others avoided this part of town if they could, especially later in the day, but Scott was right in his element, nothing phased him around here, he walked down these streets like it was Pennsylvania avenue. Some people knew to avoid him, they were the kind of low lives he used to be, thugs, dealers, others said hi and gave him warm smiles, the few good souls stuck in lives too rough for them. He'd just smile back, never anything more.

It wasn't a long walk before he reached AfterDark, making his way along the line, he smiled toward Freddy, grabbing the man's hand to give it a firm shake, bumping shoulders with him. "Evenin' brotha', goin' easy on the Big Mac's today?" He chuckled, giving the man a pat on the back as he moved past him and inside. He got along with Freddy, the two had once lived similar lives, and he appreciated Freddy trying to work things out on the outside, as far as Scott knew he stuck out of trouble, he was a good man in his eyes. Moving inside, he saw his boss toward the back, he didn't say or do anything in relation to her, just making his way behind the bar.

He'd heard the stories about Trisha, and he knew well and good the kind of deals and trouble which went on in the bar, he didn't want anything to do with it, or with her. She was his boss, and Scott worked hard to keep their relationship that way, he stood out as little as he could. Moving behind the bar, he started to go through the usual routine, wiping it all down, making sure the glasses were clean as they could be, getting ready for the rush which would no doubt come. While Freddy and some of the other staff dressed up, made themselves look nice, he did anything but, jeans and a T-shirt were usually the best dressed he got, especially at work, helped him look normal, like nobody.

Just how he liked it.

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

Scott Fairburne

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Scott Fairburne

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Character Summary

Name: Scott Adam Fairburne
Aliases: Scotty, The Gentle Giant
Age: 40
Birthday: June 7th
Ethnicity: African-American
Birth Place: Harlem, New York
Apartment Number: Imperial Apartments - 3B
Gender: Male
Major/Minor: N/A
Occupation: Bartender at AfterDark
Languages: English (First Language)

---

---

Appearance

Height: 6'3"
Weight: 225lbs
Build: Large, Muscular
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Black
Skin Tone: Black
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: N/A
Personal Style: Scott dresses simply and comfortably, both at work and on the streets, he is usually wearing a simple T-shirt and a pair of Jeans. In colder weather, he'd generally be seen wearing a simple, cheap hoodie. Scott doesn't worry too much for fashion, and most of his clothes are affordable, and plain. His shoes are also fairly simple, comfortable black loafers or simple running shoes.

---

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Psychology

Good-Natured * Intimidating * Polite * Quiet

Sexuality: Heterosexual
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: Scott generally has the best in mind for people, he wants to help anyone he can however he is able, and will often go out of his way to offer some people assistance regardless of how long or how well he knows them. Regardless of that however, he can often come across as intimidating to most people he meets. Scott holds himself in a certain way, and generally has such an appearance most of the time where he does appear to be quite the intimidating feature, even though he tries his best to avoid it.

While he can come across as intimidating, when you speak to him, it can often be anything but. Scott was raised with manners in mind, and as a result he can be an exceptionally polite person to speak with and be around. He generally approached people with his best behaviour, and is almost never rude to anyone unless they give him reason to. However, Scott doesn't often approach people on his own. He is a particularly quiet and reserved individual, and aside from the people he speaks to at work and his regular customers, he avoids making close friends if he can.
Habits: Scratching his chin, Cracking his knuckles
Hobbies: Cooking/Cleaning, Exercise, Mixing drinks,
Fears:

• Large Crowds
• Prison
• Clowns

Likes:

• Cooking
• Reading
• Working
• Exercise
• Jazz Music
• Dogs

Dislikes:

• Coffee
• Criminals
• Thugs/Bullies
• Fighting
• Drinking
• Guns

---

---

Cards On The Table

General World Skills:

• Intimidation
• Cooking
• Streetwise (Gang Knowledge)
• Athletics
• Charm

Combat Skills:

• Unarmed Combat (Boxing)
• Melee Weapons (Improvised)
• Resilience (Very High Pain Tolerance)
• Stamina
• Cool Headedness

What Is On Your Person:

• Clothing: Maroon T-shirt, Dark Jeans, Black loafers
• Wallet: ID, $25 Cash, No bank cards
• Keys to Residence
• Keys to the Bar
• Phone (iPhone 6)

Apartment:

• Basic Wardrobe
• Assortment of fictional and non-fictonal books
• Collection of cooking utensils
• Cookbooks
• Mixing kit
• Cocktail book
• Safe of Cash
• TV
• Comic Books
• Baseball Bat
• N/A

---

---

History

What Brings You To The City: After getting out of prison, Scott left Harlem and the East coast as a whole, hoping to avoid the lifestyle he'd once been a part of. Making his way as far from New York as possible, Scott settled on Justice relatively at random, finding a cheap apartment in ads, and a decent enough job at a small bar, hoping to slip in to as isolated, dull and quiet life as possible. Scott simply hoped Justice would be big and busy enough that he could blend right into the shadows, and forget all about his old life.

Life Before You Moved In: Growing up in Harlem was never particularly easy for Scott. With a father who ran guns and a mother who left, he never really had a good role model growing up. When he was still young, Scott had learned to use a gun and was being used to run cash from person to person without asking questions. His father built him up to be just like he was, planning for Scott to be a gun runner himself. However, Scott grew up to loathe guns, he despised them, seeing them used and being forced to use one himself to kill a man at age fourteen. While he didn't become a gun runner, he'd still had the gang lifestyle drilled into his mind, there was no escaping the lifestyle for him.

Scott started working as local muscle for hire, generally being taken on jobs either to intimidate someone at a deal, or beat someone to a pulp. Before too long, Scott started to become relatively famous among the criminal element in Harlem, and eventually the rest of New York. Gangsters would often recommend that if you needed someone beaten to the point where they were just barely going to survive, Scott Fairburne was your man. Eventually, he started to get known among the law enforcement community as well, becoming a target.

Eventually, Scott was caught up in a bust, being charged and sent to prison on charges of assault, battery, causing grievous bodily harm, and attempted murder. Scott spent the next ten years of his life behind bars, eventually getting out on good behaviour as he seemed through and through to be a reformed citizen. For the most part he was, Scott no longer felt a draw to the gang lifestyle, he felt an incredible degree of remorse for his actions as a criminal, and no respect for anyone who acted similarly.

Life Since You Moved In: Since moving in, Scott has enjoyed his job working as a simple bartender at a relatively small, almost underground bar downtown. While for the most part he's made an immense effort to blend in as much as possible, Scott has started picking up a few odd jobs for some of his regulars, or people he has felt needed it. Some of the jobs have been simple, helping people move, but others have been a bit more major, dealing with thugs and bullies pressing people for protection money and the like. Unfortunately, his actions haven't been unnoticed, and he may have started to expose himself more than he'd like.

---

---

Extras

Character Quote: "Sometimes, you just gotta step up."
Theme Song: The Weeknd - Starboy
Dirty Little Secret: Scott is fairly well-known in the underworld for his time as muscle.
Anything Else:

Joel

Joel Grau

Location: Bayern-Kaserne, Alfa Barrack
Interacting With: Alfa Squad, Administrative Unteroffizier

Mail call. The most painfully dull, slow, inefficient and generally unneeded aspect of the German Army, or any military organization for that matter. To some of the others in his squad, returning from a long field exercise to the mail which had been held from them was a welcome treat, but Joel just wanted to find an actual, comfortable bed and fall asleep.

"Obergefreiter Gott." The Administrative Corporal droned on as he went down the list in his hand, a small stack of letters in his hand.

"Ja." An equally droning voice sounded from beside Joel, the man in question. He received his mail and moved off away from the group, idly flicking through bills and junk mail for anything of actual interest. The second he was out of his peripherals, Joel didn't care, he just wanted to hear his name so he could go to his bunk and pass out.

"Hauptgefreiter Grau." The Corporal continued with the next name - the one Joel had been waiting for, he glanced momentarily to the man's hand, he held a selection of letters, but under-arm was a box, intricately carved with golden latches - he wasn't one for antiques, so he doubted it had been sent to him as any sort of gift, but he didn't know anyone who would send packages in such a manner.

"Ja." Joel finally responded, moving toward the Corporal to retrieve his mail. Originally he couldn't have cared less what his mail was, but as he carried it back toward his bunk and looked over the box - ignoring the confused glances and stares from the others in the barrack - he built quite the intrigue toward it. Tossing aside his other letters as insignificant in comparison, Joel sat down on his bunk, setting the box in his lap, he figured if it had made it this far into the base he resided in, it wasn't dangerous to any degree. Or, rather, Joel assumed it wasn't dangerous.

Gently, he set his finger and thumb on the gold pin, pulling it from the latch as he slowly and delicately lifted the lid, peering within. This was seeming less and less like something that would've been intended for him. Crimson velvet padded lining, and a trifolded piece of thick paper? This was an awfully over-complicated way for someone to be sending him a letter. But it was certainly not a letter, as Joel soon realised. Opening it, he had to do a double take as he looked over the two tickets he held, from Munich to Paris, and a boarding pass for the Orient Express.

Congratulations!
You are one of the lucky few that was picked to be the winner of this prestigious tour! You leave on March 14th from your city and will arrive in Paris on the 15th. There you will meet the rest of the winners at the Saint James Paris! You're accommodations are completely provided! Travel, fares, food, all are covered. On the 17th you will disembark from Paris on the legendary Orient Express for a tour of Europe and into the Carpathian Mountains! We cannot wait to see you, anything you need will be provided. A Black Status Card has provided for you to purchase anything you might need. I look forward to meeting you on the Orient Express.

Sincerely,
Your Provider

As he sat and read the letter, Joel gathered somewhat of an audience, a few of his friends and comrades moving over to his bunk to peer over his shoulder at what was before him, a few unimpressed or unknowing 'huh' sounds coming from the majority as they moved on to other things. Joel, on the other hand, was simply confused. Why had he been picked? He'd been told a while ago that he should take some leave, the man hadn't since his third deployment, so he certainly would have been able to get the time off for this little 'vacation' - but Joel still groaned.

"How do I even explain this to the Oberleutnant?"

_{*By submitting this CS in its completion I am stating I have read all the rules for this Rp and am agreeing to follow them to the fullest with respect and courtesy.}

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

@Morose Incoming Jade, or..? :P

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

@Lady Amalthea Say hello to Jeremy's replacement!

Scott Fairburne

---

---

Scott Fairburne

---

---

Character Summary

Name: Scott Adam Fairburne
Aliases: Scotty, The Gentle Giant
Age: 40
Birthday: June 7th
Ethnicity: African-American
Birth Place: Harlem, New York
Apartment Number: Imperial Apartments - 3B
Gender: Male
Major/Minor: N/A
Occupation: Bartender
Languages: English (First Language)

---

---

Appearance

Height: 6'3"
Weight: 225lbs
Build: Large, Muscular
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Black
Skin Tone: Black
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: N/A
Personal Style: Scott dresses simply and comfortably, both at work and on the streets, he is usually wearing a simple T-shirt and a pair of Jeans. In colder weather, he'd generally be seen wearing a simple, cheap hoodie. Scott doesn't worry too much for fashion, and most of his clothes are affordable, and plain. His shoes are also fairly simple, comfortable black loafers or simple running shoes.

---

---

Psychology

Good-Natured * Intimidating * Polite * Quiet

Sexuality: Heterosexual
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: Scott generally has the best in mind for people, he wants to help anyone he can however he is able, and will often go out of his way to offer some people assistance regardless of how long or how well he knows them. Regardless of that however, he can often come across as intimidating to most people he meets. Scott holds himself in a certain way, and generally has such an appearance most of the time where he does appear to be quite the intimidating feature, even though he tries his best to avoid it.

While he can come across as intimidating, when you speak to him, it can often be anything but. Scott was raised with manners in mind, and as a result he can be an exceptionally polite person to speak with and be around. He generally approached people with his best behaviour, and is almost never rude to anyone unless they give him reason to. However, Scott doesn't often approach people on his own. He is a particularly quiet and reserved individual, and aside from the people he speaks to at work and his regular customers, he avoids making close friends if he can.
Habits: Scratching his chin, Cracking his knuckles
Hobbies: Cooking/Cleaning, Exercise, Mixing drinks,
Fears:

• Large Crowds
• Prison
• Clowns

Likes:

• Cooking
• Reading
• Working
• Exercise
• Jazz Music
• Dogs

Dislikes:

• Coffee
• Criminals
• Thugs/Bullies
• Fighting
• Drinking
• Guns

---

---

Cards On The Table

General World Skills:

• Intimidation
• Cooking
• Streetwise (Gang Knowledge)
• Athletics
• Charm

Combat Skills:

• Unarmed Combat (Boxing)
• Melee Weapons (Improvised)
• Resilience (Very High Pain Tolerance)
• Stamina
• Cool Headedness

What Is On Your Person:

• Clothing: Maroon T-shirt, Dark Jeans, Black loafers
• Wallet: ID, $25 Cash, No bank cards
• Keys to Residence
• Keys to the Bar
• Phone (iPhone 6)

Apartment:

• Basic Wardrobe
• Assortment of fictional and non-fictonal books
• Collection of cooking utensils
• Cookbooks
• Mixing kit
• Cocktail book
• Safe of Cash
• TV
• Comic Books
• Baseball Bat
• N/A

---

---

History

What Brings You To The City: After getting out of prison, Scott left Harlem and the East coast as a whole, hoping to avoid the lifestyle he'd once been a part of. Making his way as far from New York as possible, Scott settled on Justice relatively at random, finding a cheap apartment in ads, and a decent enough job at a small bar, hoping to slip in to as isolated, dull and quiet life as possible. Scott simply hoped Justice would be big and busy enough that he could blend right into the shadows, and forget all about his old life.

Life Before You Moved In: Growing up in Harlem was never particularly easy for Scott. With a father who ran guns and a mother who left, he never really had a good role model growing up. When he was still young, Scott had learned to use a gun and was being used to run cash from person to person without asking questions. His father built him up to be just like he was, planning for Scott to be a gun runner himself. However, Scott grew up to loathe guns, he despised them, seeing them used and being forced to use one himself to kill a man at age fourteen. While he didn't become a gun runner, he'd still had the gang lifestyle drilled into his mind, there was no escaping the lifestyle for him.

Scott started working as local muscle for hire, generally being taken on jobs either to intimidate someone at a deal, or beat someone to a pulp. Before too long, Scott started to become relatively famous among the criminal element in Harlem, and eventually the rest of New York. Gangsters would often recommend that if you needed someone beaten to the point where they were just barely going to survive, Scott Fairburne was your man. Eventually, he started to get known among the law enforcement community as well, becoming a target.

Eventually, Scott was caught up in a bust, being charged and sent to prison on charges of assault, battery, causing grievous bodily harm, and attempted murder. Scott spent the next ten years of his life behind bars, eventually getting out on good behaviour as he seemed through and through to be a reformed citizen. For the most part he was, Scott no longer felt a draw to the gang lifestyle, he felt an incredible degree of remorse for his actions as a criminal, and no respect for anyone who acted similarly.

Life Since You Moved In: Since moving in, Scott has enjoyed his job working as a simple bartender at a relatively small, almost underground bar downtown. While for the most part he's made an immense effort to blend in as much as possible, Scott has started picking up a few odd jobs for some of his regulars, or people he has felt needed it. Some of the jobs have been simple, helping people move, but others have been a bit more major, dealing with thugs and bullies pressing people for protection money and the like. Unfortunately, his actions haven't been unnoticed, and he may have started to expose himself more than he'd like.

---

---

Extras

Character Quote: "Sometimes, you just gotta step up."
Theme Song: The Weeknd - Starboy
Dirty Little Secret: Scott is fairly well-known in the underworld for his time as muscle.
Anything Else:

Joel

Joel Grau

Location: Bayern-Kaserne, Alfa Barrack
Interacting With: Alfa Squad, Administrative Unteroffizier

Mail call. The most painfully dull, slow, inefficient and generally unneeded aspect of the German Army, or any military organization for that matter. To some of the others in his squad, returning from a long field exercise to the mail which had been held from them was a welcome treat, but Joel just wanted to find an actual, comfortable bed and fall asleep.

"Obergefreiter Gott." The Administrative Corporal droned on as he went down the list in his hand, a small stack of letters in his hand.

"Ja." An equally droning voice sounded from beside Joel, the man in question. He received his mail and moved off away from the group, idly flicking through bills and junk mail for anything of actual interest. The second he was out of his peripherals, Joel didn't care, he just wanted to hear his name so he could go to his bunk and pass out.

"Hauptgefreiter Grau." The Corporal continued with the next name - the one Joel had been waiting for, he glanced momentarily to the man's hand, he held a selection of letters, but under-arm was a box, intricately carved with golden latches - he wasn't one for antiques, so he doubted it had been sent to him as any sort of gift, but he didn't know anyone who would send packages in such a manner.

"Ja." Joel finally responded, moving toward the Corporal to retrieve his mail. Originally he couldn't have cared less what his mail was, but as he carried it back toward his bunk and looked over the box - ignoring the confused glances and stares from the others in the barrack - he built quite the intrigue toward it. Tossing aside his other letters as insignificant in comparison, Joel sat down on his bunk, setting the box in his lap, he figured if it had made it this far into the base he resided in, it wasn't dangerous to any degree. Or, rather, Joel assumed it wasn't dangerous.

Gently, he set his finger and thumb on the gold pin, pulling it from the latch as he slowly and delicately lifted the lid, peering within. This was seeming less and less like something that would've been intended for him. Crimson velvet padded lining, and a trifolded piece of thick paper? This was an awfully over-complicated way for someone to be sending him a letter. But it was certainly not a letter, as Joel soon realised. Opening it, he had to do a double take as he looked over the two tickets he held, from Munich to Paris, and a boarding pass for the Orient Express.

Congratulations!
You are one of the lucky few that was picked to be the winner of this prestigious tour! You leave on March 14th from your city and will arrive in Paris on the 15th. There you will meet the rest of the winners at the Saint James Paris! You're accommodations are completely provided! Travel, fares, food, all are covered. On the 17th you will disembark from Paris on the legendary Orient Express for a tour of Europe and into the Carpathian Mountains! We cannot wait to see you, anything you need will be provided. A Black Status Card has provided for you to purchase anything you might need. I look forward to meeting you on the Orient Express.

Sincerely,
Your Provider

As he sat and read the letter, Joel gathered somewhat of an audience, a few of his friends and comrades moving over to his bunk to peer over his shoulder at what was before him, a few unimpressed or unknowing 'huh' sounds coming from the majority as they moved on to other things. Joel, on the other hand, was simply confused. Why had he been picked? He'd been told a while ago that he should take some leave, the man hadn't since his third deployment, so he certainly would have been able to get the time off for this little 'vacation' - but Joel still groaned.

"How do I even explain this to the Oberleutnant?"

_{*By submitting this CS in its completion I am stating I have read all the rules for this Rp and am agreeing to follow them to the fullest with respect and courtesy.}

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

Ricas

---

Location: Safe House

---

Lucas gave Roy a nod, eyes shifting again over to Risa as he finished off his breakfast, moving to stand as he picked up the plate, leaving his phone on the table with the message open as he moved into the kitchen, placing them in the sink as he looked over to Roy, giving him a nod. "Stay safe." He'd say idly, visibly seeming to relax somewhat as he moved out and closed the door behind him. Glancing over at Risa as she spoke up, he forced a half-smile. Risa had really kept him sane for the past few days, she'd been the only really calming thing when everything had been kicking his ass.

Moving back into the main room, he picked up the rifle he'd been looking at before, idly raising it and locking it into his shoulder, making sure that everything was properly aligned and working just fine. Lucas didn't really like rifles, he knew how to use them fine enough, but he preferred a handgun to anything bigger, rifles were a soldiers weapon, and he'd made a fair distinction many times between himself and a soldier, though, now it was harder to make that distinction, he wasn't exactly sure what he was, or what he was getting himself into any more. Risa was the only thing he still knew, the only thing he understood as he lowered the weapon, setting it down.

"You know I've only got like two shirts left, right?" He called out to Risa, choosing to try and distract himself with her for a bit, she was what he needed at that point, after all.

Risa just smirked to herself as she stepped into the bathroom and got dressed. Coming out as she pulled the towel from her hair and letting it spill out around her she smiled at him. "I can't help if your clothing looks better on me than it does you," she said in a coy voice as she spun around slowly and tied off the shirt at her waist instead of tucking it into her pants. Stepping over to the counter she picked up the plate of food that Roy had left for her and sat down at the table. She tried to eat but it was obvious that something was on her mind as she just sat there staring blankly at the plate as her fork tapped the edge of it.

He chuckled softly at her comment, it was the same excuse she always gave him, but there was still something refreshing about every time he heard it, something comforting. He watched as she picked up the plate of food and brought it over to the table, frowning somewhat as he saw the look on her face. Moving over, he sat down across from her, reaching over to gently take her hand in his own, eyes watching her closely as he sat there. "What is it?" He'd ask plainly, the same way he would any other time he could tell something was on her mind. When there was an issue with her, he always wanted to fix it, and he never beat around the bush.

Dropping her fork on the side of the plate Risa slowly as her eyes lifted to his, lacing her fingers with his as he took her hand. Sighing she slipped her chair around to the other side of the table, pulling it up close to him. Reaching up she cupped the line of his jaw gently in her fingers as she just looked at him, her engagement ring shimmering in the low light of the safe house. "I love you Lucas, you know that right?" she asked in a quiet voice, her voice trembled slightly as she spoke; a trait that was not common for her.

Watching her closely as she moved around the table toward him, he leaned forward somewhat as he felt the softness of her fingers against his jawline. Smiling softly at her, he watched her closely as he listened to her, that same smile shifting into a more concerned look as he heard her voice tremble. Reaching up slowly, he gently took her hand as she rested it on his jaw, lacing his fingers with his own and leaning down to kiss the back of her hand. "I know, Risa..." He assured her quietly, eyes never leaving her as he gently caressed her palm with his thumb. "You don't need to remind me." He forced a half-smile, he had a feeling he knew why she was bringing this up, but he didn't bother to push the issue, things were grim. If he wasn't so focused on distracting himself, he'd have brought it up himself.

Risa nodded slightly as she kept watching him, her free hand coming up and running along the line of his jaw, around his cheek bone, up and over his ear until her fingers slowly ran through his hair. Risa wasn't the most tender or romantic of people on the outside; it wasn't something she showed often but right then it looked as if she was just lost in his features; as if she was trying to memorize every last line and crinkle. The longer she sat there she sadder she seemed to look, and a shaky breath left her as she leaned in and pressed her lips tenderly to his. Kissing him softly and slowly, savoring each feel and taste of him with her eyes closed so tightly as her fingers curled in his hair. Lucas kept his eyes on her the whole while, studying her expression, as if trying to establish what she could possibly have been thinking of.

Slowly her lips peeled away from his and she whispered against them. "It's okay," was all she managed to choke out. "It's okay," she repeated in a whisper as she leaned back and smiled solemnly towards him her fingers trailing along his cheek as she stood up. Her lips rolled in as her tongue ran along the line of them; turning she took the chair she had been sitting in and pulled it over to the center of the room. Resting herself down in it she let her hair spilled out over the high of the chair with her back to Lucas. While he didn't exactly understand what she was doing, as she moved to sit away from him, a grim feeling in his gut started to hint as to what it was, hand shifting to the handgun he had tucked into his trousers.

"Do your job Perseus," she said in a monotoned voice as she stared blankly at nameless spot on the wall before her. Closing her eyes, she felt her breath hold as she waited; each second ticking by like it was a life time.

Moving to stand, he walked over toward her quietly, he watched Risa closely for a few moments, complete silence filling the safe house as she sat before him, with her back to him as she waited for the death she expected. Risa had always been smart, he wasn't surprised she'd figured everything out. Sighing softly, he remained there for a few moments, thoughts running through his mind about their situation, he could have put an end to it then, done his job and slipped back into normal life. But that thought was gone as soon as it came. Reaching up slowly, he drew back the slide of his handgun, pulling it off as he took the weapon apart, dropping it to the floor.

Risa held her breath, her fingers curling against the edge of the chair as she sat there. It wasn't truly that she had figured out much, just slowly put two and two together. She knew what happened to operatives who's cover was blown. If hers had been, she knew she would be taken out. The attack on the UN and being rushed out of the hospital told her something was off. Roy keeping them locked down in a safe house was another. She had kept trying to tell herself it was something else but when she sat down for breakfast she saw Lucas's phone still opened to the message and she knew that was it. It was over. She didn't like it but that was how the game was played. She figured he could just pulled the trigger, get it over with. He wouldn't be a target then. If he didn't do it, she knew they would send someone else. This way at least one of them got out alive. She wanted a wedding but she was willing to accept a funeral. Hearing the click of metal behind her she figured that was the hammer being drawn back and she felt her heart stop, waiting on the end.

"Fuck my job." He said plainly. Moving around her, he knelt down to her height as she sat there, setting one hand on her own as he watched her. "I would never hurt you, Risa, let alone kill you, anyone who thinks they can order me to can come and I'll kill them, instead." Lucas said firmly, eyes locked on her own as he sat there, shaking his head as he stood up, slowly and carefully pulling her hands upward to stand her up with him.

Her eyes shot open as Lucas spoke and the sound of metal hitting the floor echoed out behind her. Looking at him she could only nod. She knew if she argued with him at this point it wouldn't do any good. They were both stubborn people. They never listened to anything they didn't want to hear. It was one of the reasons they were together. The company bitched at them constantly for getting so close but they didn't care. It just drove them closer together. It seemed that was still going to hold strong even then. Curling her fingers around his she stood up slowly and finally remembered how to breath again.

"You say the most romantic things," she said with half a nervous chuckle as her hands came around him and she pulled herself close to him, tucking her head beneath his chin as she closed her eyes as she tried to calm the terrified pounding of her heart.

He couldn't help but smile at that, wrapping his arms tightly around her as he held her close. He was pleased she didn't argue with him on the issue, the last thing they needed to be doing was fighting over what to do, he wasn't going to follow that order, and he was pleased she didn't plan on pushing him to. "That's half the reason I was so good at work, my astounding charm." He joked, letting out a soft chuckle. He had needed the small bit of humour, something to keep him a little more relaxed as he watched her, turning his gaze to brush his lips against her own, kissing her gently as he slowly pulled back, hands on her shoulders.

Returning the gentle kiss, Risa couldn't help but smirk a bit at his words as she looked up at him. "You're a real wanker you know that right?" she said rolling her eyes a bit as she laced her fingers along his lower back and chuckled. He always was a smart ass and full of himself but oddly enough it was one of the things she found endearing about him.

"Now, you just need to work on getting better, I'll trust you with a rifle against whatever's coming more than Roy, any day." He said plainly, for some time now he and Risa had been something of an unstoppable force, but that was with the organizations help, it'd be tough going against it, but he didn't want to think of failure as a possibility. All he thought about was right now.

"Speaking of which, do you know where Roy stands with the company? I don't want to worry about him being the one to try to put a bullet through my skull," she asked as she let out a bit of a long huff. Roy had been the one to recruit her but last she had heard he was no longer working for them. Granted he had never really worked for them officially, he was basically like a sub contractor. If he was still part of the circle though she worried she would have to slit her old friends throat.

He nodded his head slowly, shrugging his shoulders somewhat as he glanced toward the door momentarily. "He got the order too, says he doesn't plan on following it." He said quietly, watching the door for a few moments before looking back to her. "Says that, anyway." He said quietly. Lucas saw no reason to keep his views to himself, Roy might've insisted he was with them, but in his eyes, right then, it was him and Risa against the world.

Pundii's CS Vault

Scott Fairburne

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Scott Fairburne

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Character Summary

Name: Scott Adam Fairburne
Aliases: Scotty, The Gentle Giant
Age: 40
Birthday: June 7th
Ethnicity: African-American
Birth Place: Harlem, New York
Apartment Number: Imperial Apartments - 3B
Gender: Male
Major/Minor: N/A
Occupation: Bartender
Languages: English (First Language)

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Appearance

Height: 6'3"
Weight: 225lbs
Build: Large, Muscular
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Black
Skin Tone: Black
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: N/A
Personal Style: Scott dresses simply and comfortably, both at work and on the streets, he is usually wearing a simple T-shirt and a pair of Jeans. In colder weather, he'd generally be seen wearing a simple, cheap hoodie. Scott doesn't worry too much for fashion, and most of his clothes are affordable, and plain. His shoes are also fairly simple, comfortable black loafers or simple running shoes.

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Psychology

Good-Natured * Intimidating * Polite * Quiet

Sexuality: Heterosexual
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: Scott generally has the best in mind for people, he wants to help anyone he can however he is able, and will often go out of his way to offer some people assistance regardless of how long or how well he knows them. Regardless of that however, he can often come across as intimidating to most people he meets. Scott holds himself in a certain way, and generally has such an appearance most of the time where he does appear to be quite the intimidating feature, even though he tries his best to avoid it.

While he can come across as intimidating, when you speak to him, it can often be anything but. Scott was raised with manners in mind, and as a result he can be an exceptionally polite person to speak with and be around. He generally approached people with his best behaviour, and is almost never rude to anyone unless they give him reason to. However, Scott doesn't often approach people on his own. He is a particularly quiet and reserved individual, and aside from the people he speaks to at work and his regular customers, he avoids making close friends if he can.
Habits: Scratching his chin, Cracking his knuckles
Hobbies: Cooking/Cleaning, Exercise, Mixing drinks,
Fears:

• Large Crowds
• Prison
• Clowns

Likes:

• Cooking
• Reading
• Working
• Exercise
• Jazz Music
• Dogs

Dislikes:

• Coffee
• Criminals
• Thugs/Bullies
• Fighting
• Drinking
• Guns

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Cards On The Table

General World Skills:

• Intimidation
• Cooking
• Streetwise (Gang Knowledge)
• Athletics
• Charm

Combat Skills:

• Unarmed Combat (Boxing)
• Melee Weapons (Improvised)
• Resilience (Very High Pain Tolerance)
• Stamina
• Cool Headedness

What Is On Your Person:

• Clothing: Maroon T-shirt, Dark Jeans, Black loafers
• Wallet: ID, $25 Cash, No bank cards
• Keys to Residence
• Keys to the Bar
• Phone (iPhone 6)

Apartment:

• Basic Wardrobe
• Assortment of fictional and non-fictonal books
• Collection of cooking utensils
• Cookbooks
• Mixing kit
• Cocktail book
• Safe of Cash
• TV
• Comic Books
• Baseball Bat
• N/A

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History

What Brings You To The City: After getting out of prison, Scott left Harlem and the East coast as a whole, hoping to avoid the lifestyle he'd once been a part of. Making his way as far from New York as possible, Scott settled on Justice relatively at random, finding a cheap apartment in ads, and a decent enough job at a small bar, hoping to slip in to as isolated, dull and quiet life as possible. Scott simply hoped Justice would be big and busy enough that he could blend right into the shadows, and forget all about his old life.

Life Before You Moved In: Growing up in Harlem was never particularly easy for Scott. With a father who ran guns and a mother who left, he never really had a good role model growing up. When he was still young, Scott had learned to use a gun and was being used to run cash from person to person without asking questions. His father built him up to be just like he was, planning for Scott to be a gun runner himself. However, Scott grew up to loathe guns, he despised them, seeing them used and being forced to use one himself to kill a man at age fourteen. While he didn't become a gun runner, he'd still had the gang lifestyle drilled into his mind, there was no escaping the lifestyle for him.

Scott started working as local muscle for hire, generally being taken on jobs either to intimidate someone at a deal, or beat someone to a pulp. Before too long, Scott started to become relatively famous among the criminal element in Harlem, and eventually the rest of New York. Gangsters would often recommend that if you needed someone beaten to the point where they were just barely going to survive, Scott Fairburne was your man. Eventually, he started to get known among the law enforcement community as well, becoming a target.

Eventually, Scott was caught up in a bust, being charged and sent to prison on charges of assault, battery, causing grievous bodily harm, and attempted murder. Scott spent the next ten years of his life behind bars, eventually getting out on good behaviour as he seemed through and through to be a reformed citizen. For the most part he was, Scott no longer felt a draw to the gang lifestyle, he felt an incredible degree of remorse for his actions as a criminal, and no respect for anyone who acted similarly.

Life Since You Moved In: Since moving in, Scott has enjoyed his job working as a simple bartender at a relatively small, almost underground bar downtown. While for the most part he's made an immense effort to blend in as much as possible, Scott has started picking up a few odd jobs for some of his regulars, or people he has felt needed it. Some of the jobs have been simple, helping people move, but others have been a bit more major, dealing with thugs and bullies pressing people for protection money and the like. Unfortunately, his actions haven't been unnoticed, and he may have started to expose himself more than he'd like.

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Extras

Character Quote: "Sometimes, you just gotta step up."
Theme Song: The Weeknd - Starboy
Dirty Little Secret: Scott is fairly well-known in the underworld for his time as muscle.
Anything Else:

Joel

Joel Grau

Location: Bayern-Kaserne, Alfa Barrack
Interacting With: Alfa Squad, Administrative Unteroffizier

Mail call. The most painfully dull, slow, inefficient and generally unneeded aspect of the German Army, or any military organization for that matter. To some of the others in his squad, returning from a long field exercise to the mail which had been held from them was a welcome treat, but Joel just wanted to find an actual, comfortable bed and fall asleep.

"Obergefreiter Gott." The Administrative Corporal droned on as he went down the list in his hand, a small stack of letters in his hand.

"Ja." An equally droning voice sounded from beside Joel, the man in question. He received his mail and moved off away from the group, idly flicking through bills and junk mail for anything of actual interest. The second he was out of his peripherals, Joel didn't care, he just wanted to hear his name so he could go to his bunk and pass out.

"Hauptgefreiter Grau." The Corporal continued with the next name - the one Joel had been waiting for, he glanced momentarily to the man's hand, he held a selection of letters, but under-arm was a box, intricately carved with golden latches - he wasn't one for antiques, so he doubted it had been sent to him as any sort of gift, but he didn't know anyone who would send packages in such a manner.

"Ja." Joel finally responded, moving toward the Corporal to retrieve his mail. Originally he couldn't have cared less what his mail was, but as he carried it back toward his bunk and looked over the box - ignoring the confused glances and stares from the others in the barrack - he built quite the intrigue toward it. Tossing aside his other letters as insignificant in comparison, Joel sat down on his bunk, setting the box in his lap, he figured if it had made it this far into the base he resided in, it wasn't dangerous to any degree. Or, rather, Joel assumed it wasn't dangerous.

Gently, he set his finger and thumb on the gold pin, pulling it from the latch as he slowly and delicately lifted the lid, peering within. This was seeming less and less like something that would've been intended for him. Crimson velvet padded lining, and a trifolded piece of thick paper? This was an awfully over-complicated way for someone to be sending him a letter. But it was certainly not a letter, as Joel soon realised. Opening it, he had to do a double take as he looked over the two tickets he held, from Munich to Paris, and a boarding pass for the Orient Express.

Congratulations!
You are one of the lucky few that was picked to be the winner of this prestigious tour! You leave on March 14th from your city and will arrive in Paris on the 15th. There you will meet the rest of the winners at the Saint James Paris! You're accommodations are completely provided! Travel, fares, food, all are covered. On the 17th you will disembark from Paris on the legendary Orient Express for a tour of Europe and into the Carpathian Mountains! We cannot wait to see you, anything you need will be provided. A Black Status Card has provided for you to purchase anything you might need. I look forward to meeting you on the Orient Express.

Sincerely,
Your Provider

As he sat and read the letter, Joel gathered somewhat of an audience, a few of his friends and comrades moving over to his bunk to peer over his shoulder at what was before him, a few unimpressed or unknowing 'huh' sounds coming from the majority as they moved on to other things. Joel, on the other hand, was simply confused. Why had he been picked? He'd been told a while ago that he should take some leave, the man hadn't since his third deployment, so he certainly would have been able to get the time off for this little 'vacation' - but Joel still groaned.

"How do I even explain this to the Oberleutnant?"

_{*By submitting this CS in its completion I am stating I have read all the rules for this Rp and am agreeing to follow them to the fullest with respect and courtesy.}