YoshiSkittlez

Once Upon a Time (Rebooted)

@Wade Wilson Do you have any writing examples?

Once Upon a Time (Rebooted)

Rumpelstiltskin, Kaeden Liddell and Heather Jekyll

The Dark Castle

Ah! Gods it was good to be back- and even better was the fact that he was almost done with his end of the damn deal he had made with Rumpelstiltskin. The minute Kaeden dropped Doctor sexy off at the castle, he was a goner- running off into the wind and leaving nothing but his dust behind as a parting gift to those who had been lucky enough to be within the presence of the only Liddell left within this goddamn forsaken world. Pulling himself out of his thoughts as he caught sight of the castle gates looming over head of the both of them, Kaeden lifted both his hands up before he pressed his palms against the cold iron, using his upper body strength to push it open just enough for the both of them to slip through before he let it go, not bothering to look back to watch them close as he continued to lead the way up the path to where the castle stood strong, a standing testament to the wheeling and dealing bastard who seemed to contently reside within its darkness…

Seriously, had the guy never heard of opening the damn curtains? It was called airing the place out- but if he was happy to live with the smell that could only be described as death itself… who was he to go and burst that happy little bubble, “Welp, on behalf of Madden portals incorporated, we would like to thank you for choosing to travel with us, and welcome you to your new and happy little home beautiful; I’m sure you’ll find the Dark One’s company to be… yeah, no, I'm sorry; for the life of me I can’t finish that sentence- there is just no word that is good enough…”

Shaking his head lightly from side to side as he made his way up the steps, Kaeden paused in front of the large wooden doors that led into the castle itself, his head turning back to look once more over Heather before he reached out for the handle, stepping to the side as he pulled the door open, over dramatically gesturing with his free hand for her to go in before him, “After you beautiful- your new life awaits you just inside the darkness that is beyond these very doors… after that, you’re on your own, cause I’m a free man honey..!”

This world was certainly...different. There were so many species of flora that Heather hadn't seen back in London. She had often stopped to take a sample or two and put them in a spare journal she carried with her, before continuing to follow this man. She had asked him what she should expect when encountering this...'Dark One' Rumpelstiltskin, and apparently he wasn't someone to be trifled with, and that she should watch her words carefully. She also asked him about the world they were in now, and general specifics.

She sighed as she looked at the dark and dreary castle. Her home was dark and dreary as well, but not like that. She looked to the man when he spoke to her, still calling her by that nickname instead of using her name like she had asked him. She commented dryly and somewhat sarcastically after his finished spiel "Thank you. That last statement was most certainly comforting,"

She followed him up the steps and she asked before he pulled the door open "Shouldn't you knock first?" He didn't seem to hear her as he just pulled the door open, anyways. After he told her to go inside, and added his little comments, she answered in sarcastic deadpan, "How chivalrous of you," She then answered him with a grateful tone this time, "But seriously, thank you,"

She looked at the darkness inside the castle, and before taking in a deep breath, she stepped inside, expecting the worst to happen.

"I must say, I'm rather impressed, Joker." A voice from behind the duo sounded, rather unexpectedly considering the grand double doors of the castle had just closed behind them and their backs not far from it. Clearly no one was there before; they would have seen it.

Rumpelstiltskin materialized from seemingly nowhere as they turned to face him, his reptile-like eyes looking directly past Kaeden and locking onto Heather Jekyll's soft blues, taking a moment to himself to size her up. With his right hand raised, level with the lower portion of his collarbone, he rubbed his fingers together, his head tilting to the side slightly as he let his eyes look over the rest of her and then back up to meet her eyes once more.

"You must be Doctor Jekyll." he surmised, though the twisted grin afterwards alluded to the fact that he knew more than what he was letting on. "R-R-R-Rumpelstiltskin, at your service!" he then quickly chimed, using his tongue to roll the 'r' in his name as he stooped his thin body over in a deep bow, arms extended out from his sides. Then, only raising his head to look back up at her, keeping his lopsided smile, he spoke again though this time quieter. "But you already knew that." He took a moment to stand back up straight and adjust the lapel of his dragon-hide coat. "Now what do you want?"

Heather widened her eyes and she turned to face the double doors that just closed behind her and the man who was apparently nicknamed 'Joker'. She studied the reptilian man in front of her just as he studied her as well. She could hear Hyde make snide comments about the man in the back of her head as she studied him. After a few minutes the man finally spoke with a sickening grin on his face, and that look that clearly showed that he knew more than he let on. She nodded at his guess at her name and she watched as he introduced himself to her. After he made his comment about her already knowing that, she commented as she nodded towards 'Joker', "At least you actually introduced yourself, unlike a certain someone,"

When he asked his question, she crossed her arms, her cane still in hand, and she answered "Right to business, eh? Alright, I want the darkness within me...the monster that takes over from time to time, gone," She then asked "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

"Mmmm... 'course I did!" Rumpelstiltskin practically squeaked as he began to move from his position in front of the doors and began to circle around the both of them, however keeping his eyes on Heather and words directed towards her. "Ah, you summoned me. However, being from a diff-er-ent land... makes things ra-ther difficult." he sing-songed and made a few quick steps to bring himself back around to her front so she could see him properly once more. "But!" he exclaimed, taking a moment to run his tongue over his lower lip before continuing. "The Dark One always de-liv-ers!" he finished, sounding somewhat pleased with himself for no apparent reason at all save for his own reputation. "Now-" he started quickly but cut himself off short, his head turning just a fraction until his reptile-like eyes landed back on Kaeden, as though he had just realized that he were there.

"Well what are you still doing here?" he asked quietly though keeping his pitch high, theatrical hands turning outwards in question. "You've paid your price-" Rumpelstiltskin's eyes dropped down then to the hat clutched in Kaeden's hand and a wicked smile spread across his thin lips once more as he brought his eyes back up to his. "Unless... there was something else?" His tone was light and jovial once more, spasmed patterns of different syllables uttered in different pitches; clearly having fun with his words.

“Well clotpole, now that you mention it…” Doing all that he could to keep his annoyance at the blatant use of his ‘name’, Kaeden dropped his gaze down to the hat that was held delicately within his grip, his eyebrow quirking slightly as he lightly brushed it off before lifting it up and placing it once more onto his head, his hands coming together in front of his body as his gaze raised up to meet with that of Rumpelstiltskin’s once again; the expression on his face, though quite light and playful, still holding the determination and the resolve behind his words as he spoke up, telling Dark One exactly what it was that he wanted.

“This hat is staying with me- he was my brother after all.” There was no way he was going to be giving up Jefferson’s hat- he just couldn’t do it. He already had his sister’s key, and now that he had his hands on something that belonged to another member of his late family… well there was no way he was going to let it go without a fight… “So name your price- otherwise have fun prying it from my lifeless hands…”

"Nheh..." Rumpelstiltskin made a small noise of annoyance. His large eyes rolled and his tongue ran over his lips once again, his body shifting a bit awkwardly before he finally shook his head, seeming to come up with an answer as quickly as he could to rid himself of Wonderland's joke of a man. "Alright-alright, it's yours. Take the filthy clump of fabr-r-ric." He waved his hands with enthusiasm, though they were waving him out of his home, showing him the door. "But!" he called out, his hands stopping and held up a single pointed finger, showing that he had more to say. As soon as he knew he held Kaeden's attention, he twisted his wrist so that the finger pointed up was now pointing directly at him, a flicker of a smile coming across Rumpelstiltskin's lips as he took a moment to himself to look Kaeden over carefully. "You'll owe me a favor..."

“Okay, so first you wanted a favour for my sister’s key; now you want a favour for my brother’s hat- you know, if you aren’t careful; people are just going to start thinking that you’re lazy, rather than just an evil old coot.” Kaeden didn’t even bother to try and hide the exasperated groan that fell from his lips, the young man over exaggerating the fact that owing yet another favour to the tyrant standing before him was nothing more than an annoyance, though it was clear that he had already accepted the little catch as long as he was able to keep Jefferson’s hat in his possession, “But it’s alright! I’ll play the good guy! I’ll help the sickly green, and slightly ugly looking old woman across the street so that she doesn’t get hit by the horse and carriage!”

Lifting his hand up to take a firm hold of the rim of the hat that was now perching precariously upon the top of his head, Kaeden slid his foot back slightly, his free arm lifting to the side slightly as he leant his body over in a bow, the action mirroring one that Rumpelstiltskin himself might give when introducing himself, his head however remaining at an angle in which he was still able to see the both of them standing in front of him, “Tis a pleasure as always to do business with such a lovely bundle of joy wrapped in countless hugs and rainbows. Have fun beautiful; and watch out, I hear he likes to bite.”

Making a couple of biting motions with his teeth as though to push the point, Kaeden once again stood himself up straight, his body quickly turning on the spot so that his back was towards them before he moved himself forward, a light spring in his step with the knowledge that for now, he was a free man. When the time came and Rumpelstiltskin wanted him for this so-called favour, he knew that he would come and get him. There was nowhere he could run, where the Dark One wouldn’t be able to find him. Lifting up his hand as he grew closer to the door, Kaeden once again opened it up, his body quickly slipping through the gap and out into the fresh air of the Enchanted Forest.

Heather looked to 'Joker' after Rumpelstiltskin directed his attention onto him. In all honesty, she had no idea whether to laugh (even though Hyde was already laughing in the back of her mind), be impressed, or worry about 'Joker' as he made his comments quite boldly. It was the same boldness that almost got him killed when he met Hyde back in London! When 'Joker' turned to her and made his comments, she blinked and had a look of disgust cross her face for a moment. She mentioned calmly with a slight hint of irritation "I told you to stop calling me that," However he seemed to ignore her and she watched as he left the castle.

After he was gone, she turned her attention back to Rumpelstiltskin. She expected them to get back to business and that he would tell her what he would want in return for getting rid of Hyde.

Rumpelstiltskin made a face at Kaeden's departure; somewhere between relief of finally being rid of the pest and annoyance at the boy's behavior. Tisking as the front doors of his castle were closed, leaving him and the doctor alone, Rumpelstiltskin turned his body, waving his hand in a flourish for Heather to follow him as he began to head away from the front entrance and into the recesses of the castle.

"I do hope you had plans of staying in The Enchanted Forest for a while, dearie. I'm afraid that was your ticket out of here!" Rumpelstiltskin chimed, turning his head to the side to look at Heather as he jerked his thumb backwards over his shoulder towards Kaeden's general direction. He let out a shrill giggle then, as though the very idea of a person stranded in an entirely new and very different realm amused him.

They quickly reached another set of double doors though without opening them, Rumpelstiltskin quickly turned around on his heel, arms flourishing close to his chest as he did.

"But!" Rumpelstiltskin held up his pointer finger. "We shall see to your lit-tle 'darkness' problem first before we lure the Joker back to The Dark Castle. The question is, dearie, what are you willing to give up to be free of your little ex-per-r-r-i-ment?" he asked, rolling the 'r' in the latter word.

Heather followed Rumpelstiltskin after he made the clear gesture to follow him, mentally preparing herself for the worst possible scenario that came to mind. She kept her cold and composed appearance at the mention that Kaeden was her ticket out of here and mentioning luring him back here once they were done with their business.

After he asked about what she would give up in order to get rid of Hyde, she crossed her arms and she asked in response, showing that she was ready to give up what she had left (considering that she had practically forfeit her life when she drank that concoction), "What's your price?"

Using both hands, Rumpelstiltskin waved them in front of him up to the joint of his elbows where it was unclear if the stiff, dragon-hide coat prevented mobility or if he was simply doing it on purpose.

"Well that's the funny thing about price, isn't it?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, a bit too quickly in a deeper tone than usual, making the different words almost sound as one, long one in his hastiness to get his question delivered. He stopped waving his hands in lieu of a softer flourish, one hand pressed close to his chest while the other extended up towards his shoulder, palm facing up and fingers twitching. "Usually, price is measured in how much something is worth. So tell me, Doctor Jekyll..." Coming out of his gesture, Rumpelstiltskin bent his body at the waist, penetrating all semblance of 'personal space' as his head neared hers so close, he could feel the softest of exhales fanning across his face. "what's it worth?"

Heather narrowed her gaze at the imp irritably when he seemed to taunt her with his question with a much more serious tone. She tensed, feeling Hyde ready to try and take control and make her attack, considering that the imp was close enough for her to feel his breath, and for Hyde to take in his scent.

She answered "I'm willing to give up my world if necessary to be free from her," The good doctor could hear Hyde sneer, mocking her inside of her mind, "Hmmm...And I thought I was bold. But then again, I wouldn't be here if you weren't."

A quiet, practically inaudible snicker came from Rumpelstiltskin as he pulled his head back into his shoulders as they rolled back, the trade-mark grin he held for those who had just given him what it was he wanted exactly without their know-how plastered upon his odd features.

"Now we're talking!" he exclaimed quietly, though the excitement in his voice was so evidently there no matter how much he tried to suppress it... if he were trying to suppress it.

With a quick spin and a wide push from his arms to the air on either side of him, the grand double doors opened and Rumpelstiltskin stepped inside the room, counting on Heather to follow behind.

Incarceron [Sandbox Cyberpunk]

I'm going to bow out of this RP. Getting hit hard by work in real life and am trying to put all of my focus on the site into running my own RP. Good luck with it though, do as you please with my character.

@Heat

Thank you for letting me know. I will remove your character soon.

The Seventh Division: AW2

@YoshiSkittlez, I finally read your post. God damn, that was an amazing, albeit beautifully sappy, beginning. Who do you think you are making me tear up a bit - just a bit - with that well-written emotional crap?

@Palindromatic

The Seventh Division: AW2

No worries. We (or at least I) shall be here :)

The Seventh Division: AW2

Well thank you! It took me a lot longer to get up than I wanted it to, but I'm pretty proud of it lol. Looking forward to your post!

The Seventh Division: AW2

"Papa? Why did you come back?"

The soft sound of the child's whisper reached Vivek's ears, drawing him away from his desk within the blink of an eye to kneel down on one knee in front of the couch his child had been laying on for Gods knew how long now. Placing his hand over the small lump underneath the blanket where he knew her hand to be, his dark, brown eyes scanned the frail, paled face of his daughter - the only part of her visible through the copious amount of blankets bundled around her to keep her warm though it seemed that even if he had a thousand blankets to cover her, she still wouldn't be able to warm up. She had said very little over the last few days, her sickness taking off in a sudden spike where even holding a conversation was draining for her. It was by far the hardest thing Vivek had to endure. He would have gone through the torture of those he had been captured by when serving in The Third Division a hundred, thousand times before watching his eight-year-old little girl slowly dying in front of him.

His thumb gently rubbed her hand through the thick blankets, trying to soften his eyes for the sake of his child as she struggled to keep her heavy lids open to look back up at him. It had been difficult to not be angry - with himself for leaving to America, with his girlfriend, Lela, who had abandoned their child to the streets when he had so much family that would have taken her in instead, and with the Gods who had yet to answer his many, many prayers on behalf of his little girl. But around her, around Gita, he pushed back his roiling anger and instead gave her a soft, flickering smile that turned up the very corner of his lips.

The subject of Lela, Gita's mother, came up very rarely since Vivek returned home to India to take over for the well being of his child. Even amongst family - his mother, even, who had found her by the luck and will of the Gods - the situation in which had been created was not spoken of whether it be by some unspoken grace that the trauma little Gita had been put through was already enough and didn't need any stirring, or if by not speaking of Lela, it would somehow preserve her image as a good mother to others. So Gita's question had Vivek refraining from pressing his brows together as he tried to think of the best way to answer in a way that would not disrupt either of the reasoning's they did not talk about or for him to start becoming angry again. Instead, he moved his hand from on top of hers and cupped the side of her face, brushing his thumb underneath the soft skin of her eye and looked down upon her with all the sincerity and love a father could manage for his child.

"Because I made a mistake, Gita. One that will never happen again. No matter what happens, I will not leave you. Not again."

His hand slid up from her cheek, moving to her forehead that was now out of habit for checking her temperature, though even still his touch was soft and endearing, bringing the small child a sense of comfort as she let her eyes slip back closed from lack of strength.

"Mama-" Gita stopped to cough. "-Mama said you... you left because-" Another cough. "-you were trying to make Marica a better place."

"America." Vivek corrected gently. "And not just America, Gita. The world. America was just where they needed me. But what we do, what I helped to do, was to help everywhere become a better place for you to grow into a beautiful woman in a world that is not so unkind."

Gita forced her eyelids to flutter back open to look up at her father once more, a trying smile splitting her lips a fraction to show off her pearly-white teeth.

"Like... like a superhero." she said. A statement, not a question. The word, however, had Vivek's stomach tying itself in knots for reasons he couldn't explain, or didn't know how to. No. He was no superhero. A superhero would never leave their child the way he did. A superhero would not have to stand by and watch helplessly as their child died before their very eyes - they would have found a way to fix it and try as he might, Vivek just couldn't. He opened his mouth to correct her, once more, unable to allow the falsified images his child now had on him to continue to grow making him out to be some sort of glorified person that he wasn't, but Gita, after a small coughing fit, beat him to it.

"Mama... Mama said that there aren't such things as superheros..." Vivek winced. Obviously, he was too late as it seemed that Gita had already a spoken conversation with Lela on the matter. "But... but she's wrong, Papa. She's wrong because I know. I know there is such thing. Because, Papa, I have a secret."

He couldn't help it. Not this time. His brows furrowed in confusion, tilting his head to the side slightly holding his daughter's gaze, silently urging her to continue.

"I know what you are, Papa." Another cough. "I've seen you. You... change things... Mama says I made it up, but I know. I know because..." Gita paused once, being thrust into another coughing fit. It became so bad, even, that Vivek began to rise from is position in front of the couch to fetch her a glass of water, but her frail, little hand slipped out from underneath the blanket and caught his wrist, tugging on him with a surprising amount of strength (though still weak) for her condition that held his attention on her for a moment longer.

"You're a superhero, Papa. But you came back for me, and you lost your fire. I can see it in your eyes"

Vivek shook his head lightly. This was getting out of hand. He had to stop this conversation, quickly, but in his heart he couldn't bring himself to do so. Not if that meant disappointing his daughter. This was the most alive she had seemed in months, how could he deprive her of that light?

"But it's okay, cuz Papa... I found it."

Letting go of his wrist, Gita held out her hand, palm facing up and dropped her eyes from her father to it, as if waiting for something to happen. Her eyes narrowed, a deep look of concentration on her features but finally, Vivek had enough. She was expelling too much energy. He wasn't sure what she was trying to prove, but he had to remember, her health came first. The doctors at the hospital all said the same thing - There was nothing they could do for her but to allow her to die in the comforts of her own home. A few weeks, maybe days... it was all too cryptic for Vivek to indulge his thoughts on.

"Gita-"

His words were immediately cut off as a flickering light caught his attention from out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he looked down into the open palm of his daughter and felt his jaw go slack for there, about the size of a walnut, was a small ball of flame, flickering on and off like a light bulb with a faulty wire.

Like a moth drawn to the flame, Vivek once more knelt down at his daughter's side, eyes glued to the small spectacle before him. His Gita... she was like him. He wasn't at all sure what to do with that information; unsure if he should be fearful for what sort of options that opened up for her, not sure whether to be proud, not even sure if he was surprised or not. He reached out his hand to hold the underside of hers, helping to keep it elevated as the strength in her arm began to waver.

"I want you to take it, Papa. Take back your fire. You need it more than I do. My superhero needs it more than I do."

Vivek's eyes moved back to his daughter, watching as her eyes fluttered back closed, a deep sense of pride then finally beginning to surface within him. At only eight years old and she held a wisdom within her that far surpassed his own. Though he doubted that she meant her words as metaphorically as he was taking them, it was exactly what he needed to hear. However, things quickly shifted when Gita let out a soft, long, exhale and the ball of fire within her hand dissipated into a quick whiff of smoke. Her hand fell limp, becoming cold to the touch gradually but enough for Vivek to know what had just happened. He quickly blinked away a few of the pooling tears he didn't know he had been holding back from the bottoms of his eyelids, falling from them to stain his cheeks.

Slowly, Vivek bowed his head towards his daughter, touching their foreheads together and keeping hold of her lifeless hand by pressing it into his chest over his quickening heart. His eyes closed softly, the sound of his own sobbing now the only thing to accompany him within the house that once was the home to three.

---

Large, dark eyes opened rather suddenly, completely withdrawn from the reverie that the art of meditation was supposed to bring. To clear his mind. That had been his purpose. But every time his eyes closed for more than a moment or two, he saw her and for that split second, coming out from his once tranquil state, he could have swore that he could also feel her. Five years later, and the memory still remained with him as vivid as the day itself. Her touch, her voice, even her smell... all engrained into his mind, never to allow him a moments peace.

Sighing, Vivek pushed himself up from his cross-legged position on the mat that had been brought out onto the balcony of his home in hopes that the cool, evening breeze would help to relax him. He took a moment to run his thumb and fourth finger though his hair, starting at the temples and pushing back the thick, black curls from his face before falling back through his fingertips again. Quietly, he made his way back inside, navigating the halls that eventually brought him to a staircase that then led him to the first level of his home. The house itself was much too large for a single man. Even when it had occupied three it was still on the large side, but with his salary as the Madras University Chemistry Professor, he could afford it and wanted nothing but the best for his family. Now, it was nothing more than an empty, hollow reminder of what could have been.

Upon arriving on the lower level, Vivek took an immediate turn and made his way down yet another hall, his eyes baring straight ahead having no drive to glance at the fine furnishings that decorated the rooms and walls, eyes only for the door right in front of him. Turning the knob, he pushed the door open and walked inside. Immediately, his senses were infiltrated with paper, ink, sandpaper and even dust; a familiar, yet welcomed reprieve to help detour his mind.

Walking with a small amount of reverence now in his step, Vivek approached the old, wooden artists desk within the corner of the room and flicked on the desk lamp with a quick switch on its base. The light immediately filtered through the musty air, landing on a large, sixteen-inch by twenty-two-inch paper, filled to the edges with varying shades of graphite and charcoal. It had been something Vivek brought himself to work on in small doses over the course of the last five years when he felt he had a strong grip of his emotions. So reaching over the desk and plucking a 4B graphite pencil from the container of varying types, Vivek took a couple of moments to fill in a few shading areas before he stopped, stood back, and admired his work. His Gita - at the prime of her life. Before death had slipped it's tendrils into her and began to suck her life away over the long, agonizing months he cared for her.

He wanted to do right by her. Gita's last words were for him to bring that fire back into him that he had lost. He wasn't sure exactly what she thought it was that she meant, but to Vivek, it was to get back out there and to keep making the world a better place. But he couldn't do it. Not even when the Alien War came to rise. Not even when they attacked and he was subjected to merely reading about it in the papers, learning about the fall of his kind, only to crumple it up and toss it away. That was a different life he led back then. Getting back into it would be... difficult. And he no longer had the strength. This was his life now. One hundred percent. The daily rinse-and-repeat in the life of a chemistry professor. It was comfortable. It was safe. But it was also lonely.

Setting the pencil aside, Vivek flipped the switch back off, turning off the desk lamp and quietly retreated from the art room, reverently closing the door behind him and forcing his way to the main living room area where a pile of student's research papers waited to be graded on the very same desk Vivek sat at moments before his Gita had passed on.

The Seventh Division: AW2

<Snipped quote by YoshiSkittlez>

If you haven't already, I recommend watching Sense8. It was an amazing show about various people around the world who are telepathically connected - it's slow, but heavy on character development and exploration. That's all great and all, but Mr. Andrews is in it. That's enough of a reason.

'Tis alright. Chances are my CS's are riddled with inconsistencies. I'm good at pointing out mistakes other people have made but terrible at realizing when I made them myself.

@Palindromatic

I haven't yet but I have it downloaded into my 'to watch' list lol. I saw a commercial for it at work, totally uninterested and then I saw a flash of Naveen Andrews and I was all "HEY! REWIND THAT!" cuz I wasn't sure and sure enough, it was him. So I went home and downloaded it lol

Incarceron [Sandbox Cyberpunk]

Finally got up that Deon post. Sorry to keep you waiting guys!

Incarceron [Sandbox Cyberpunk]

You've gotta be fucking kidding me.

Deon didn't have to have the use of his eyes to know that the blue-haired female had run. It had only taken two words from his agent to light that fire under her ass that he knew to be the trigger. But then again, in a place like The Spit, 'BoD Agent' would have had anyone running. But not Deon. Deon never ran. Even if he had a few things he took great care in keeping off of the surface where cops of any kind would like to stick their long, greasy noses in to get a whiff, as a small-time celebrity within the lower districs, he was protected. More or less. The fight was over and it didn't look as though he would be allowed to be swinging his fists for the crowd any time soon. Not with the bitch BoD sticking her nose around where it didn't belong. Tonight was done... and so was he.

With a low snarl, Deon pushed his way through the cage, going by memory as he stepped outside and maneuvered through the crowd towards the back wall where he had a room to change, get cleaned up from a fight, and even bring back a girl or two for a quick, good time. But what Deon had in mind in that moment was more or less along the 'clean-up' portion. Reaching the hallway, he could hear and faintly see that behind him, the power had been turned on and as he walked through the tight, dark space and finally reached his room, flipping the switch on the old, brick wall confirming it to be true.

Making a beeline to the sink set up in the corner of the room, Deon turned on the leaky faucet and cupped his hands, splashing the cool water over his face in an effort to clean off some of the drying blood from what he knew to be a broken nose. By memory, he reached out his right hand and grabbed a wadded up towel, used for such purposes on a number of occasions, and dabbed his face dry, doing what he could to wipe away the remaining blood with a cracked mirror positioned above the sink as his only guide. Finally, after tossing the towel aside with disinterest, his new area of focus landed on the small shelf on the wall where an assortment of pill and alcoholic bottles took over the space. His hand reached out and grabbed hold of one of the unmarked pill bottles. Using his forearm to twist the cap off, he opened up his palm and caught one of the pills sliding out of the bottle that he had tilted. Not bothering again with the cap, he put the bottle back where he got it and popped the pill into his mouth, swallowing it down without the use of water.

There was a small pause before Deon's teeth grit down hard and his hands braced himself by holding onto both sides of the sink. Hunching over it, shoulder blades pressing together with his head hanging below his shoulders, his grip tightened as a series of surpressed groans of pain passed through his gnashing teeth. He could feel the cartilage in his knose knitting back together, rolling and twisting under his skin, building incredible pressure until finally, there was an audible crack and his nose was righted but not without a final cry of pain coming from the fighter as his nose repaired itself.

Deon took a couple of moments to himself, feeling the white-hot sting of reminescing pain from his nose (also vaguely aware of the same warming sensation in his knee and nether regions) before he sniffed and righted his posture, giving himself a quick look in the mirror. When all he could see were unfamiliar, ghostly-yellow eyes looking back at him, Deon tore himself away and walked to the opposite corner, digging through a small pile of clothes before finding an old, white wife-beater and slipped it on. If he wasn't going to be doing any more fighting tonight, he might as well see what spoils The Spit had to offer him tonight - whether it be by drug-trade or by women. Either way, he wasn't going to find out for another while yet, not with that BoD Agent lingering around.

His yellow eyes landed back on the shelf where he kept the alcohol and pill bottles, landing on a particular container he kept his preferred drug of choice in, but again, there wasn't any way he'd be snorting anything with that agent around, so instead he grabbed a cigarette from it's box and with his opposite hand, the lighter that went with it and left his room, only to take an immediate right through the fire-exit he used frequently to avoid the crowds whenever he wasn't in the mood to entertain.

The cool night air graced his warm skin, the few, sprinkling droplets of what was the beginning of rain misting his toned skin like a gentle, almost-shower. It was... refreshing, for lack of a better word, and calmed him down enough to relax his back against the brick wall, perch his cigarette between his lips and light it up with a slow, deep inhale.

Only when he had stuffed the lighter into his pants pocket did he realize that he wasn't the only one in the back alley-way. It was hard to tell in the dimly lit area, but he was almost certain a girl was standing against the opposite wall, looking somewhat lost or maybe she was just high as fuck on something. Either way, it caused a smirk to cross over his lips as they held his cigarette in place. Perhaps there was a way for him to get what he wanted after all.

"Hey!" he called, unsure how loud he should be given their undetermined state, though it was better to be loud and heard than not. "If you're trying to make a statement by looking like me, you forgot to shave the other side of your head!"