Méav - A Rainy Morn

[Aveilthé]

The morning sky first appeared to be bright and sunny as the
giant flaming orb in the far distance began to creep up into
the sky from over the far mountains. Clouds had already
started to gather during the night, so it was foreseen that
rain would fall soon - or at least that is what the Seers have
proclaimed over the radio yestermorn.

The mountains that had spanned for miles in formations as far
as the eye can see rose at a breathtaking height. And upon
these mountains were great ivory cities. The castle rose
fantastically above all the others, it's ivory walls carved from
the very mountain itself. Within the prosperous city, people
were busy and peacefully heading off to work. It took no time
at all for the rain to start dropping big fat drops, but for now
it was only a drizzle. The cheery people of this city were
groaning, and grumbled heavily as each person rummaged for
their umbrellas.

The streets, paved cobblestone, stretched far until it reached
a dead end, but here is where business thrived the most.
A cozy coffee shop was squeezed in between two other shops,
one of which was a clothes shop, and the other which was a
bakery - and next to that, was a magic Rune stone shop.

This coffee shop is where our story begins. Outside of this
intriguing place, a sign was hung out that said "The Hot
Coffee Shoppe". Inside this hole-in-the-wall, a small fire
was roaring - for it was quite cold up in the mountains,
and as it was raining a bit harder, the cold became a bit more
intense. The shop had a theme; the shop owner seemed
rather obsessed with mugs, thus every kind of mug immaginable
hung from the wooden ceiling, and was decorated on the
window. The coffee shop did not seem too busy, which was
a good thing for Méav.

Méav is a young lady of twenty-one years old, and is a human,
though perhaps one of the few most unique humans, for her
eyes were both of a different color - one silver, the other
a bright sky-blue. They seem to hold intelligence, and quite
a lot of fieryness. These were the only thing visible among her
features, for the rest was hidden by an elegant gossamer-
white hood of which was pricy indeed, and made of the finest
silky material, of which was made by the Elves. She looked quite
young, for her skin looked smooth and youthful, and fair. One
might say that she might have looked like a princess, because
of such fine garments and her pretty face and full femenine lips.

Upon a crimson booth by a medium-sized European-looking
window did Méav sit, slumping just slightly as to comfortably sip
her coffee with her small, intricately designed coffee mug.
She seem to contemplate heavily as she watched the rain
splatter on the crystal glass. Just then, a plump, elderly lady
walked by her table and halted before Méav.

"May I get you anything else, dear?" said the lady, who was
obviously one of the waitresses - or perhaps the owner,
judging by her kindliness and motherly nature.

"No, thank you," Méav replied, smiling up at the woman as she
set her mug down upon the table. The woman simpered back
a reply before wobbling off to another inhabbited table.

[Monkey Monk]

Life is such a feeble thing. Each lifetime is like a flimsy thread that
has been woven into a tapestry of millions of threads. Those
threads could be broken, burned, cut, and meet many other
messy ends. Parts of the tapestry could be destroyed as well,
lost forever in the passage of time. Some times loose threads
could cause the destruction of sections of or even the entire
tapestry. Sometimes a skilled artisan had to step in and remove
that renegade thread and thus save the entire tapestry.

"That's what my job is..."

The man who was pinned to the moist back wall of building
looked at his attacker in fear. He was shivering violently,
whether from his situation or the cold could not be told. Most
likely it was a mixture of both. His clothes looked like that of a
wealthy man. That assumption would only be accentuated by his
fair hair and pampered face. Yet the perfection of his face was
tainted by a stream of blood that came forth from his bloody
nose. His voice, which was not the first, was whiny and
pompous. "E-e-e-excuse me?"

The attacker was hidden. A cloak of heavy black material was
pulled tight around a lean frame. A hand wrapped in black
leather holds a knife to the previous man's neck. The figure
shook their head and spoke out in an illustrious voice. "Nothing."
With that, the figure jerked his wrist slightly and deftly slit the
throat of his victim. Blood spurted forth in an arch away from the
killer. With a dull thump the corpse fell to the ground. Quickly the
attacker propped the other up against the way, making sure the
cut of the throat was hidden. He closed their eyes slowly before
dirtying and ripping the clothes. To any who were to stumble
upon him, they would most likely think him a beggar who had
once been rich and now slept in the gutter. Pleased with his
work, the attack rose and cleaned off his knife before walking off
into the street.

Now one might assume this hidden creature to be a ruthless
murderer. One who kills for money, or robs for the same reason.
True, he did take the money from his victim, but that was only
for necessity. It was all for necessity. One should look into
things before making a judgment. For instance, the one who
now sat in the mud dead was far more dangerous than his killer.
With his wealth he would have gone on to raise an army. A
dispute between him and a neighboring duke over a woman
would have gone wrong. The two would have sent their armies
to fight and hundred of thousands would have perished. Wives
would be made into widows and children into orphans. Some of
those children would have turned to crime and in turn killed
another couple thousand of people in total. Now tell me. Which
was the better choice?

Slowly the hooded figure walked into a nearby building, a coffee
shop at that, and a rather eccentric one. Now one might wonder
what a killer was doing in a coffee shop. It's a really simple thing
after all. He hated the cold and he wanted something warm to
drink.

As the bell over the door tinkled merrily, those covered hands
raised and pulled back the hood that had recently left what was
beneath in hiding. The figure was a man, one whose face was
drawn in my lack of food and excess of exercise. His hair was
long and clung to his face slightly which was another result of
his poor funds. Each fiber started forth as black, but as it moved
toward the tip it slowly transited to red and then orange. His
eyes, which seemed alight with flames, were similarly colored.
The thing that was most out of place upon him, even though it
wasn't visible at the moment, was a pendant. It was cast forth
from silver, the out brim shaped as two fangs. In the center was
a ruby that had two swords crossed over it. The item would
most definitely make quite a lot at a jeweler.

Slowly the man went to a booth and sat down. Patience was
something he had a deep reserve of after all. He passed time in
waiting by slowly unraveling the leather straps from his hands.
As his wrist hand was uncovered, rune-like tattoos were
revealed. By the looks of it, they continued up his appendage
and most likely encased his whole arm. When the deed was
done, he made a fist and slowly opened it. It was a habit of his.
Now all there was to do was wait, which he did with utmost
patience.

[Felypsa]

Wearily, a stranger to these parts trudged into the glorious White City. He kept his hat down as he led his roan mare through the busy streets of this well-paved, beautiful place, hiding his face from all who were curious enough to look at him. The only thing slightly out of place about him was that his mare bore nor saddle, nor stirrups, nor bridle, nor bit, nor any of the trappings of a typical horse. She seemed to walk of her own free will, for the stranger did not lift a hand to guide her, but she continued to follow him like any horse would its master.

The stranger showed signs of extensive travel. His clothes, all unobtrusively colored in shades of brown, were dirty and soaked in the cold morning drizzle. He paid hardly any attention to the people or shops he was walking by, simply headed for any place that would accept a nomad for the night. He had some money from his last employment, and he was eager to spend it on something worthwhile. After many days of camping and “roughing it,” he was looking forward to a bit of luxury.

But he was not picky. The first place he stopped by was “The Hot Coffee Shoppe,” and the aromas of its revenue wafted by on the slight, wet breeze. The stranger decided he would stop there for breakfast, and then head out to find a nice, warm tavern or inn where there were plenty of alcohol and pretty girls and loud jokes. But this would do. The newcomer’s stomach growled, and he was about to step into this pleasant little shop when something nudged him in the back.

He turned around and saw his roan mare, gazing at him questioningly. He sighed and stroked her on the nose, to her pleasure. But he said, “Hey, darl, go find yourself a nice stable to rest in. You’ve borne me all this way, you deserve it.” He reached into his pocket and drew out a tiny pouch of coins, which he proffered to the mare. She grasped it in her strong teeth but did not move, still watching the man with her impenetrable gaze. He smiled slightly and shook his head. “Sorry, lovely, but you can’t stay here. This here en’t a place for horses. You wouldn’t like any of the food they serve.” He gave her a gentle push. “G’won, now. I’ll whistle for you later if I need you. An’ watch out for traders.”

The roan snorted slightly and whickered, but obeyed the man. She began to walk along the cobblestone roads, alone, without any kind of identification except the small pouch of coins in her mouth, which was to be given to a stablehand once she found one. The stranger watched her go, feeling some concern that someone might try to take advantage of her, but certain that she could defend herself and come running for him if need be. He didn’t own her, after all. She went where she wanted.

Finally, the newcomer entered the little shop, hardly glancing at the other patrons. He sat down, and immediately a middle-aged waitress approached him. He did not take his hat off, but he lifted it a little so he could look at her. In doing so, he revealed his crystal green eyes which some say have the ability to hypnotize others. The waitress was quite taken with him, and smiled warmly as she asked him how she could help him.

“I’d like a platter of pancakes with a side of bacon and some lemon tea, for starters,” he ordered. Yes, he was very hungry. The waitress promised to be quick about it and went away. He let out a sigh and pulled his hat back over his eyes, though he now took the opportunity to survey his surroundings. There weren’t very many people in here; to his right sat a man with tattoos up his arm, and by the window there was a very pretty girl. If the stranger had been in the mood, he would have perhaps taken the moment to go over and flirt with her. But he was too tired now, and besides, she wasn’t like most ordinary girls he flirted with.

Losing interest, he glanced back at the tattooed man. The man’s expression was placid and forbidden, but the newcomer could tell he was a man who meant business. He made a mental note to either get immediately on this man’s good side or avoid him altogether. He wanted no enemies here. Presently, the waitress returned with his meal, which he lit into immediately, attacking his pancakes with an almost savage eagerness. It was the first decent meal he’d had in days, and he was clearly enjoying it.

[Aveilthé]

Méav sat back upon the well-cushioned leathery booth, tearing
her gaze away from the window as a stranger came in. She
eyed him warily, for he seemed quite roguish and seemingly
untrustworthy. She averted her eyes from the strange tattooed
man, yet couldn't help but notice the intriguing ruby encrusted
with the crossing blades. Ever since she was a little girl, she
always loved things that sparkle, and became in love with
jewels, almost like a magpie obsessed with shiny objects.
But Méav was not too vain. She only ever wore very few
exceedingly expensive jewels, and gave up the much more
expensive items to poorer countries who could sell it for far
more than what it was worth in this country.

The girl continued to stare at it from the corner of her eye, but
when she thought about forgetting about this man's roguish
appearance and inquiring him of his jewel, she hearkened
to the tinkling of the bell as yet another man came inside.
This man looked much more laid-back to Méav, and she felt
as if she could have gotten along with someone like this a lot
more. She smiled pleasantly at him.

The young girl was a regular here, one of her sanctuaries
to escape people - particularly the paparazzi, who always
hounded her down to badger her with pictures or questions.
Méav was a celebrity, obscured in her not-quite conspicuous
Elven white hood. They never usually follow her out here.

Taking her mug, she drained her cup from the rest of the
cooling coffee before placing it back upon the surface of the
wooden table.

When Méav took a small worn purse from inside her Elven
robes, she took out six silver coins and placed it upon the table.
She didn't realize that her hood slowly slid off. A small kid at
the booth behind her gasped really loudly. Unaware of the
sudden silence that permeated through the small shop, Méav
looked up, oblivious, and looked around. She noticed that
everyone was staring at her. She found herself wanting to
say something really witty, but she felt herself blush and felt
it better to just shut up. She had herself an audience of
stunned people, all gaping at her, or at least most were - or
at least, those that knew her.

"Uh... oh..." said she, fumbling for her hood and sliding it back
up to obscure her head. She stood up quickly, and proceeded
straight to the door. She had nobody to protect her but herself
now - and when it comes to rabid fans, they are bound to hurt
her severely.

Once she reached for the handle to the door, a big bulk of a man
came by and closed the door as she tried opening it. "Where
d'ya think yer goin'?" came the booming drawl of this hulking
fellow.

"Out of my way, I'm warning you," Méav snarled, reaching
inside of her robes to grab her obscured weapon.

"You ain't goin' no wheres," he replied, taking Méav's arm
violently. The giant of a man blocked the way of people trying
to get to Méav.

Oh, bugger, thought Méav.

[Monkey Monk]

When a waitress came to the being, he had politely ordered a
cup of hot coffee with three creams and two sugars. By the time
it had arrived, another person walked into the shop. The most
recent patron seemed almost to be at the same lack of money
as the man who bore the tattoos on his arm. However the latter
had an inkling that things did not seem as they truly were.

As he slowly sipped on this cup of warm drink, he saw a woman
from the corner of his eye rise up. Just as the last one he had
gazed at, she seemed to be far more than what was to be seen.
For one, he clothing was of rather fine make which he
recognized as the tailorship of the elves. Another thing was that
he hood was up, which had to be uncomfortable in this warm
place in which they resided. Those thoughts were only confirmed
by the way people reacted when her hood fell. Even though he
did not recognize her, for rarely did he pay much attention to
mortal celebrities as that was the job of the muses, she was
most definately someone famous. He watched with only a slight
interest as people began to flood towards her and she was
soon cut off by a large man.

However it was nothing of his concern, nor did he truly care at
the moment. From what he saw, there was no use in her for the
future and he couldn't really gain something from the relation
that would come. Calmly he sipped his coffee as he tried to
ignore what was going on in the shop. Even though his
assessment would seem cold and uncaring, a part of him
wanted to help anyways. He had always been the black sheep
of his kind and his training had been extended to try and cover
up his quirk. His kind was supposed to be cold and meteculous
not caring and generous.

As he lifted the cup once more to his lips, but a sudden jerk in his
right arm caused the chalice to fall and shatter on the floor. He
quickly pulled up his sleeve to look at the tattoo that extensively
went up his arm. One of the runes was glowing slightly which he
quickly hid from the view of prying eyes. That part of him that
had always been suppressed cried out in joy in his mind. It
seemed that it was time for him to perform another job.

Slowly the man rose from his seat. He calmly grabbed the leather
strips that had concealed his hands and began to rewrap the
aforementioned body parts. His movements were calm and
relaxed as he slowly began to walk over to the much larger man
who was near the woman. For a moment he simply looked up at
the man before him, almost as if he was assessing them. After a
moment he gave a slight grunt and began to walk away a few
paces. One might think this tattooed man to be sick in the head
by the way he calmly acted in his odd activities.

Once he was a fair distance from the larger man, he turned
around to face them. Slowly his right hand rose to limpy face the
larger man. His fingers were lax as they calmly aimed at the
ground. However quite suddenly they snapped up and the most
oddest of things occured. The leather strappings unraveled with
amazing speed and shot out toward their target, the large man.
Halfway on their trek, the leather would suddenly burst into
flames as they soared with deadly speed. Their goal was the
man's heart and lungs in hopes of serious injury or even fatality.

[Felypsa]

The travel-worn stranger was shoving the last bit of pancakes into his mouth and downing it with his tea when a collective gasp when up in the room. Curious, the man raised his head, and saw that everyone’s attention was on the pretty girl he’d observed earlier. She looked quite embarrassed to be the object of such rapt attention. Hang it, she’s pretty, but she’s not drop-dead gorgeous, the man thought to himself. And besides, there’re plenty of women looking at her too. What the heck in heck is the big deal then? He wiped his mouth with his napkin and pretended to ignore the occurrence, but truly, his interest was raised.

That was when he heard the commotion between the big man and the tattooed man. The stranger looked up in time to see the leather straps, set afire, hurtling towards their owner. He winced at the inevitable impact. Geez, that coulda killed him! He was a little shocked. So maybe the big man was a bully, but that tattooed man had tried to kill him without batting an eye. That was ruthlessness. That kind of thing the stranger had rarely seen, even in his extensive travels.

He stood up, unable to keep out of this. If the tattooed man had given him a chance, he might have calmed the big man to let the girl go. But no: Tattoo apparently had a philosophy to simply eliminate threats, instead of abating them. The stranger shook his head and strode up to the girl—a young woman, really, and smiled at her. He’d calm her first.

“This is troublesome,” he remarked. He was a master of the understatement. Then he faced the crowd, who were no doubt shocked at the recent turn of events as he had been. He smiled at them all, his green eyes focusing on each person in turn, until finally he looked at Tattoo. That look lasted a little longer than the rest. Finally, the stranger spoke again. “All this unpleasantness—and so early in the morning, too! Goodness gracious, isn’t it enough that the weather is so terrible?” He gestured at the window and the grey skies outside.

“I say,” he said gallantly. “Allow me to buy you both a drink. Coffee, tea, juice—anything you’d like.” He was addressing the pretty woman and Tattoo both—since they were the parties involved. “Oh, and how about one of you calling the medics?” he asked the rest of the “audience.” “I think this man needs medical attention.” Again, understatement. The flaming leather straps would surely incapitated the big man. The stranger tossed a coin to the boy who had recognized Méav first, and grinned at him smoothly. “Wouldja mind doin’ that for me? Thanks.”

“Waitress!” he called, and the middle-aged woman, looking frightened, came up. “I’ll pay for the orders of these two friends of mine.” He gestured to the woman and Tattoo. “My name’s Dameon Ray,” he informed these new “friends” of his. “I’m new in town.” Despite everything, he had managed to remain perfectly calm, and that calmness spread to the other customers in the shop. They were still horrified by what had happened, and still starstruck by seeing Méav, but they slowly reassembled themselves at their seats, convinced by Dameon’s placid behavior that everything would take a turn for the better. And he stood there, his hat on, his eyes shining, his smile reassuring.

[deathsshadow]

SERENA
H.

Humans. They were everywhere these days, taking up more space than imaginable a puny specimin of life could. And personally, Serena hated them, hated them all, down to the tinyest of newborns. Strange to most that she'd hate her own species but it was a natural instinct for the teen and she couldn't well go against what her gut told her to do. Now, because of her refusal to oppose her inner-self, she was stuck in this huge white city, filled to the brim with vile, disgusting humans that swarmed the streets all day, forcing Serena to take refuge from the many crowds. Even the hiding places were diminished to almost none in this spotless, bright civilization where the smallest of nooks and crannies held few shadows, even at night when lights were lite everywhere. *What am I to do here?* she questioned herself, absentmindly twirling her silver pendent. Sere watched silently as the pretty metal caught the light of a nearby lamp post and reflected bright bursts of metallic colors across the opposite brick wall. *Why did I come to this place? What is it I'm supposed to do.*

The shadowed girl's reverie was snapped clean in half when a rauctious, reeking, and obviously drunken man stumbled her way, nearly tripping over her outstretched legs in his dazed condition. Stumbling and sloshing the contents of his half-empty bottle onto the pavement where Sere sat only a moment ago, the alchoholic roared some vague curses blindly at the already fleeing girl. *Revolting. Absolutely revolting. But I've seen worse, just hope the men in this city didn't all choose tonight to get dead drunk. Don't think I could handle that many smelly, vulgar humans all at once.* Seeing a little coffee shop coming up in her path, Serena halted her mad dash and hid in the disapointedly little shadows the shabby construction could provide with two large lanterns swinging in the back and front. *What is with these people and light? Can't they live without the damn element?* Having had enough of this ridiculous 'worshipping' of brightness, the 17 year old twirled the star around her neck rappidly, whirling it while concentrating on the meager darkness on which she stood barely surrounded by. Her long lanky shadow contorted and started to emers into one with the shop's, making one large blob of inky black that literally swallowed the whole building along with anything within five feet of it, smothering the candles in their glasspaned boxes and cutting off all other sources of light from nearby structures and posts. *Much better.* The still unnoticed Sere looked around with satisfaction and her slim figures stopped in their wild whirling, halting the silver in mid spin.

Now entering silently and slinking along the walls, pressing herself against the rough walls, Serena observed her new surroundings, taking in the seemingly dead corpse of a large burly man much older than her, the tattooed guy standing near and, she guessed, the killer, the other man with the strange outfit holding a rather attractive woman and speaking to the frightened eyed waitress. something about drinks and friends, she didn't bother to listen closely since it was pointless what people babbled about nowadays in coffee shops or bars. All completely pointless and not worth the time to ponder. Sneaking closer to the back where there was more places for her to conceal herself with if necassary, Sere continued to eye the strang trio due to her instincts taking over and commanding it so. They seemed significant to her in some unknown way. Either that or she was too bored to doing anything else. *What do I need now from you three? Or rather, what do you guys have that draws my attention like this? What is it...*

[Aveilthé]

The girl stood rooted to the spot as the giant fellow viciously
pulled her close to him. A terrible not-so human snarl escaped
from Méav as she tugged herself away from him, pulling out
a silver mini-sword with a curvy-tipped blade.

Alas, the next few events happened in a blur. The next thing
she knew, she stood shrieking from an unevitable surprise as
flaming leather pierced the man's body from behind him -
and with that, he fell, though Méav had to shuffle back
many steps to avoid the man falling on her. She simply
looked down at him for a moment, then looked up, to see
the attacker many feet away. A truly appalled look was upon
her face, perhaps because the attacker probably killed him.

Soon the many people within the coffee shop screamed in terror,
and forgetting about Méav, began to scramble to the man's
side, to which the girl silently found the situation ironic,
but stepping over the fellow, she stormed up to the attacker,
an angry expression upon her now visible face.

She had thick hair, silvery-white like gossamer silk, and very
curly, yet it was cut rather short and layered about her neck.
Her mane of locks seem to spark and quaver as she wanted
to pour all her wrath into this dunderhead.

"I had it all under control, damn you!" she howled, jabbing her
finger at the attacker's chest. She furiously brandished her
mini-sword as if she was going to cut the man, but that was
obviously not her intention when she instead put it away inside
her Elven robes due to anger. Giving him one last scowl,
she turned to the other fellow that she almost played deaf ear
on. "Yes, fine, whatever, give me caffeine," she finished quietly,
rubbing her temples. "Thank you," she mumbled, finding her
manners. Feeling a bit flustered due to the past few events,
she allowed herself to be steered to the booth, attempting
really hard to control the tears that wanted to leak from her
eyes.

[Monkey Monk]

The tattooed man acted rather calm for someone who had just
committed murder. Usually a murderer would run away for fear
of the law. However he remained where he was, not in the least
bit afraid of the consequences. A small smirk formed on his lips
as he heard the screams and yells of those who were startled
by the sudden death. Honestly, these mortals needed to learn
that death was a natural thing.

It was then that the other man from before leapt up and tried to
keep some sort of order. The question was, for what reason?
The tattooed man thought for a moment, eventually coming to a
common conclusion. They wanted some sort of order. Without
order most people became uneasy. Yet who was it he was trying
to keep at ease? That was a puzzle this man would not be able
to solve right at the moment. It could many possibilities after all,
each just as likely as the last.

When the girl whose life he had just saved started to yell at him,
the man's smirk fell from his lips. Was she crazy or something?
Was she suffering from some sort of sickness in the head? After
all, he had just saved her life. When she spoke of having control
of the situation, a certain desire arose within his chest to yell
out that having a mob led by a large man on your heels was not
keeping control. Yet he managed to suppress those desires of
anger and fury and slowly let his smirk reappear. Instead he
spoke out of something he personally found humorous. "The
little blade would have done you poor usage. You could have
fought off one or two of them yes, but eventually they would
have overwhelmed you. My technique was startling and did
exactly as I had planned. Instead of many useless deaths there
was only one."

Still convinced that what he had done was the right thing, the
man turned about and began to walk toward the offered seat.
He was never one to refuse free things, and already he desired
something hot within his mouth and throat once more. He
contemplated for a moment whether another cup of coffee
would suffice, but in the end he decided on tea. Acting as if
everything was normal, which it was to him, he sat down in the
seat and began to fix the leather upon his hand. "Tea will do.
Thank you very much Daemon, may the gods guide your soul to
a peaceful end." It was something he rarely did, saying those
words. They were a blessing after all and he had been taught
not to bless sporadically. Even if his words had no true power.

As it was, this man did not offer his own name. That was
something he almost never did, even rarer than giving blessings.
Still, he was in a rather happy mood at the moment. He had
done not one, but two deeds that had saved countless lives and
it the sun was barely in the sky. The fact that most likely the
young woman would hate him did not effect him too much. Many
people hated him because they thought what he did to be evil
and uncaring. However people weren't very good at looking to
the future now were they? He was like a guardian to these
people and in return they tended to look upon him with spite.
Still, there were those who appreciated his work and showed it
in acts of kindness of their own. At the thought his hand trailed
lightly to the amulet around his neck.

His rational mind began to think of things that would have to be
solved soon. For one, there was the body that he had left in the
alley nearby. Even though he knew there was no evidence of his
doing, the authorities might be clever enough to link it to him.
After all, two murders in the same area in a small time frame
were rarely committed by separate people. He would have been
able to easily escape punishment for protecting the young
woman because the danger was immediate. However the
judges at trial would be outraged at the murder of the young
noble. They would fail to see how this man would have known of
the deeds that would be committed in the future and would
sentence him to something that would take more drastic
measures to escape. Drastic meant needless killing which the
tattooed man despised. He would most definitely need to leave
this little shop soon.

Then it came to his mind. Maybe that was why that other man
was trying to act kind. He wanted to keep everyone present for
when the authorities arrived. Slowly the tattooed man looked up
with his fiery eyes, his face having been showing all his thoughts
to any skilled eye. A small smile formed on his lips as he folded
his arms over his chest. What did they expect? For him to run?
What need was there of it? He had only done good after all.

[Felypsa]

Like sheep, thought Dameon as he watched the mob dissolve into a frightened crowd, and slowly reassemble themselves. Or a flock of birds. Kill their leader, they’re at a complete loss for what to do. He looked down with some disgust at the big man’s corpse. He had some disgust for the murder itself—it had been very crude, if effective—but he also had some disgust for who the dead man had once been. Only a despicable person would corner a solitary person like that, whether she was famous or not. Dameon felt no sorrow at his passing, though he did feel repulsion at the way it had come about.

The stranger wasn’t sure how things would come about now. He had sent for the medics to clean up the dead man, but he had also sent for the authorities. He was not unduly surprised that Tattoo had not run. Dameon sensed an eerie sort of confidence from the murderer—a confidence that bespoke a man who was sure of who he was and what he did, and no authoritative figure could convince him otherwise. Dameon had once met a man like that, long ago, but that man’s stiffly confident, even arrogant, life had ended in a gruesome death.

The waitress took the orders of coffee and tea, and looked to Dameon to see if he wanted anything. He shook his head slightly, and she disappeared to fetch the items. He counted out the coins with a grimace. He would not be able to afford a nice a lodging as he’d hoped for, but that didn’t matter too much. Only one thing overrode Dameon’s self-interest, and that was his curiosity. And he was curious. These two “friends” of his were very unique. A girl whom everyone but himself and Tattoo recognized, who could involuntarily summon a rowdy crowd at the mere appearance of her face, and yet who believed she could keep everything under her control. And a heavily tattooed man who could murder someone without so much as a blink of an eye, and still seem oddly smug enough about it to stick around while the authorities were on their way. Yes, they were different. And he was intrigued.

He handed over the money when the waitress returned with the ordered drinks. Dameon waited until she had left before sitting down himself, tilting his hat over his face again. He could feel the eyes of everyone in the coffee shop on their little table, but decided to ignore them for the time being. It was bizarre to have a dead man lying on the floor, while engaging in small talk with both his victim and his murderer, but Dameon had been in stranger situations. Death was no mystery to him.

“So, miss,” he said to Méav, his tone light and friendly. “I notice that everyone seems to know you. You’ll have to forgive me for expressing ignorance, but I’m completely new here and I haven’t settled down in one place long enough to follow the current celebrities. So, if you don’t mind my being upfront about it, what exactly is it that you do to illicit such a reaction?” He didn’t address Tattoo, not yet. Dameon hadn’t quite figured out how to approach him diplomatically. And diplomacy was what Dameon was all about.

[deathsshadow]

SERENA
H.

Serena continued to hide where she was, situated so that she could obseve her targets while remaining unseen to others. So far nothing out of the ordernary or interesting had happened and she was getting quite bored standing against the smooth walls with nothing to do but watch over humans like a hawk staring at prey. No one had even noticed the sudden losage of light outside. *Too preoccupied with the dead body lying on the floor there...as well as its murderer and intended victim who are now sitting drinking together at the bar.* The atmosphere was suffocating now, especially for someone hiding in the midst of tons of filthy humans with nothing of interest to engage themselves in. *Well if you refuse to acknowledge the darkness outside, maybe you'll pay more attention to the darkness INside!* Smirking, Sere reached for her talismin again and sent the small piece of metal into a miniature silver whirlwind. Black tendrils spewed out from the glowing center, spreading out quickly into the surroundings, blowing out the few candles flickering in lanterns on the walls, wrapping themselves like snakes around the lights hanging from the ceiling above, leaving the cafe in utter and total darkness. Now people were frantic at the sudden blindness, a darkening that they, who lived in a city of brightness, weren't used to. Cackling to herself, voice hidden by the arrousing din made by the customers and employees, charis scraping and falling, tables overturning, glasses breaking, shrieks of terror filling the air. *Much better!* Some who were foolish enough yanked open the door and ran outside, fully expecting light to bathe them in a reassuring glow, came to only more black shadows and retreated, screaming and moaning, back inside. Crowding in the back as though that would help them, this left the whole space wide open for Sere's usage.

From her new vantage point, she could see that the trio that drew her inevidable attention hadn't seemed to move a bit. *Good, wouldn't want these people to be so wimpy that they'd freak at a little bit of night sky like those idiots back there.* she thought with some satisfaction. But the commotion had brought only a moment's worth of entertainment and the aftereffects were quickly drying out. A little more havoc on these pathetic creatures wouldn't do any harm. *Let's see what else we can mess with here...* The lass turned her head this way and that, finally settlnig on a long thin length of rope that hung by the doorframe. Grabbing the bit of thick string intertwined together, Serena brought it up so that the snake's head on her pendent glared straight at one end of it. Pretty soon, more of the black wisps came forth out of the reptile's frozen mouth and engulfed the object it faced, turning the host into a writhing mass of coiling snakes, curling over themselves and Sere's hand, hissing mad at eachother. Setting the slowely onto the wooden floor, watching them writh about for a moment then rush headlong towards their preys, ruby eyes glinting maliciously as they moved in closer. They weren't deadly, being only made from ropes and shadows, but they still could bite. *Let the realy fun begin!* Their mistress laughed silently in her head as screams once more erupted, shattering the silence.

[Aveilthé]

OOC: Serene... Be aware of godmodding. Your character seems a bit powerful and seems... chaos-happy, but this isn't quite what I have expected our roleplay to turn out so early. I know I am contradicting myself when I say that ANYTHING can happen in a roleplay, but... I do feel a bit unhappy that you came in early with your character, seeming to look for attention by causing chaos in an otherwise pleasant roleplay. And so suddenly. I think it would have been better if you made it build up, because all this happened in a mere two posts you've made. Boom, the sky turned dark. How? Boom, the girl makes the coffee shop dark. Nothing can happen quite SO fast in reality, which is why maybe you should broaden it out a bit more to make it interesting. This is perhaps why I feel a bit uneasy with this, because you posted too early, especially when a bit of chaos already happened (when the tattooed stranger killed the hulking man that tried taking Méav's arm by force. That is one climax of the roleplay, and another climax doesn't need to happen so fast). You roleplay very well, but I wish you wouldn't allow your character to cause chaos like that in our roleplay, and control the whole people of the coffee shop that I am supposed to control, which is almost like powerplay - however anyone can control these people, like when Foxie/Fely controlled the waitress, which is fine. But since I came up with the masses like that, then I have the right to control most of them. But since they are not officially "my" characters, anyone is free to control them... it's hard to explain.

I'm sorry if I sound like I am complaining, but I beg you to take it slower, because I do love surprises, but even more so if it is built-up. If your character is a villain, perhaps make them more intelligable by making them plan something, but when your character whinged it on the spot, that was cool too, but just way too fast in this roleplay. Am I making any sense? My point is basically, as I have mentioned before, that it just feels too early to be going into another chaotic climax of the roleplay so soon, and I am not the only one who agrees on this. I wanted to build some things up with the characters, maybe let more problems ensue with between them, and having a character butt in is like... gah. Our plot isn't based off of anything; we do not necessarily have a storyline. I always love my roleplays thought of at the spur of the moment, and not planned out, like,

"Lets have our characters run into a dragon and let them battle."

That's no fun, because as roleplayers we WANT to have fun, and we already know what's about to happen to the characters... it's no fun knowing what's gonna happen, except when it is spur-of-the-monent.

Anyway, enough of the long rant. XD

"Thanks for everything," flustered the girl after a while, looking
into the rough stranger's eyes with the frayed hat. She made
sure that she did not sit too close to the tattoed fellow; not
that she was afraid of him, more so because she wouldn't
forgive him for killing that large man regardless of him saving her.
She felt a bit shaken, more out of anger than anything, unlike
the people around her that were chattering and leaving the
coffee shop to tell their friends what had just happened and
whom they saw in the least likely of places. Being a human,
it was natural for her to want to shed tears over a fellow
human. She was not prepared for him to die. The thoughts
of mangling him up pretty good would have been satisfying
enough to teach him a lesson about touching ladies such
as herself. Many times in her life, there had been many
attempts by throngs of people that would try to hurt her,
but she never allowed that to happen. Not that she was
great in self-defense physically, but being small and supple,
she can manage more than what people think.

Méav was deeply offended that the tattoed man butted in,
thinking that she was weak and frail no doubt; and, decided to
kill him! Oh yes, that bloody solves everything! You rash,
impudent fool! she thought bitterly, casting the man
she sat next to a dark look. Just as she was thinking of other
satisfying names to call this man, and pleasuring in
imagining herself bonking the man several times on the head
with the coffee mug that she gripped tightly in her hands, the
whole of the place went darker than night itself.

"What the bloody hell," Méav snapped, looking around at
her newfound companions with a questionable face; though in
the darkness, her face may be unreadable. "A power outage?
This city doesn't have that much power. And there were candles,"
she added, gripping something of a inquirable nature from
inside her robes. She then took out her hand, and in her palm,
she held grey, fine sand in a bag. She poured it out until the
sand rested a bit scattered at her fingers and palms. Upon
receiving a match from inside the small bag, she scraped it against
the wooden table until it kindled, and put the tiny flame against
the sand. In an instant, fire erupted from her palm, a powerful
glow emitting there. It was as white as the heavens, but not
quite blinding. Méav held her hand up like a torch, grinning
in a self-satisfied way with her arm propped upon the wooden
surface of the table and her palm holding her jaw.

"Real magic can't solve everyone's problems if they don't have
the power to do it, but luckily I know a few tricks," she whispered,
winking in Dameon's direction.

[Monkey Monk]

When the darkness had plunged forth and consumed the shop,
the tattooed man remained rather calm. Almost lazily he rested
in his seat, only quirking his brow as he watched the young girl
perform a small feat of magic. He was rather surprised that she
had such talents, even if that trick was a little simple. Still, it had
served a purpose and had given them light. For that he was full
of gratitude. He didn't hate the darkness, he just wanted to
know what was going on around him.

The coldness and hatred cast forth to him puzzled the man even
further. What was wrong with this girl? He had just saved her
and she was treating him like dirt. A slight feeling of hurt arose
in his chest but was quickly squashed by the rationality his
training had given forth. Such emotions were not permitted, not
for his kind. Emotions led to mistakes which could lead to
thousands of lost lives. So despite the feelings he held, he kept
a rather calm appearance. His firy colored eyes fell upon the
other man for a moment. A certain feeling of humor arose in him,
causing that same smirk from before to rise forth onto his lips.

Slowly the tattooed man leaned forth so he was gazing at the
other man directly in the eye. For a few moments he simply
gazed at them. After a while, a chuckle began to sound forth
from his throat. The sound came forth out into the air as the
tattooed man slowly leaned back into his seat. For the first time
around this group, he let his voice loose as a set of words that
these people would understand. The notes of his voice were
surprisingly musical. Each syllable was spoken with a clearness
that would put the finest crystal glass to shame. It was a sort of
wry joke that had been made in his kind's creation. He was
made to keep order through death, shepherding souls who
would cause more death into the spirit realm. However his voice
suggested to something else with it's alluring sweetness.

"You are a very bright one my friend. Rather than have
pandemonium set loose about us you calmly coordinated the
crowd. You called forth for medics knowing full well the
authorities would come as well. I am correct am I not? Very
bright of you. Most would scream for the police, running around
like foul who have been removed of their heads. True, I will most
likely spend a few nights in prison for what I did and with that I
am comfortable. The truth is, I did something good just now.
This woman is obviously well known in the public. If the public
knows her, then the authorities will too. They will have only to
hear of the truth before I am set free. I helped this woman
escape what could have very well been death by taking the life
of another.

"Both of you seem startled at how calm I am with death. That is
something that is a common thing. Many people have yet to
learn that death is something no one can escape. Even
immortals will eventually face the Final Rest. However when one
has the right knowledge, they can lower the numbers of deaths
from countless to only one. If you think me a monster for helping
her, then I want to you think of the other possibilities. What if
this woman had been killed. How many people would have been
distraught at her death? How many people would have done
atrocious acts as vengeance for a well known person's murder?
There are many people who would kill for the stupidist of
reasons. So there is no telling how many people would have
died eventually from the chain of events. However now there is
one man dead. One man who almost no one knows. Sure, a few
might be saddened by his passing and even fewer might have
done poor acts. However the difference in ammounts is obvious.

"So make your judgment on me. Call me whatever you wish.
Think of me a cold-blooded killer with no remorse for his deeds.
However do not do so without knowing my reasons. Now that
you know them there is only one thing left for you to know. My
name. It is Testis and it means Martyr." Such a rare act for him
to speak his name outloud and to more than one person at a
time.


OOC: To add on to what Kaoru said I would like to state this. The whole thing of using someone elses creation, such as the customers in the shop, is an unspoken boundry. Using someone elses creation without permission, even if it's an insignificant character, is sort of an insult. It shows you don't have enough respect to ask their permission to use an already created being. It can really offend an experienced roleplayer because it is almost like you are insulting their integrity as a roleplayer.

[Felypsa]

oOc| Oh dear...-sighs- I sense some tension in this roleplay. Please, Serene, please please don't think I'm lecturing you or singling you out. I just want to discuss this so that we can avoid these kinds of situations in the future.

I think the thing that's bothering Kaoru (forgive me if I am wrong) is that the action Serene's character took. It was very sudden and very, very drastic. It seems out of synch with the rest of the roleplay. Okay, so Serena wants to have fun, so she throws everything into chaos. That's who she is. Fine. But...by sending everything into chaos, she's also sending the entire roleplay into chaos. I'm sorry, but the whole post seems like a cry for attention. I'm not saying that's what you're doing, but that's what it seems like. I don't mean to insult your intelligence, experience, or skills, but your post lacks subtlety, and that's really what it needs. That's all.

I'm sorry we all three of us appear to be "attacking" you for your post, but it's what I like to call a "teachable moment." We're not lecturing you. We're trying to help you. Please keep this in mind, because it's...awkward. Anyway, enough of that, let's go on.



Dameon never received an answer to the question he politely asked Méav. And for good reason, too. All at once, the lights—electric, gas, and candle—vanished as if by a malevolent power. Which, Dameon thought grimly, was probably the cause. He stood up leisurely, staring at the panicked people and sighing. What is wrong with this morning? he wondered silently. First a nasty murder, now this…magic! The crazed people—the sheep—had suffered so much excitement that even Dameon couldn’t reel them in under calm and placid control. But he could try.

He took a step forward just as Méav performed her trick, conjuring enough light for him to see. His crystal green eyes shone in the perfect white light, as mesmerizing as ever. He caught Méav’s wink and returned it before he knew it. She was still sitting down, cool, level-headed even in this new crisis. Thank God she’s got a sensible head on her shoulders. Dameon smiled and turned around, lifting his arms to the ceiling. Méav’s light was behind him, illuminating him in its ethereal glow. “Be calm, please,” Dameon bellowed softly, if such a thing were possible.

“If we all just remain calm, we can get through this.” After his initial announcement, he kept his voice level and quiet, though it resonated throughout the shop. He wasn’t sure if they would listen to him; so much havoc had already happened. But he might have had a chance. He might have. But then Tattoo began talking, and Dameon turned in surprise to meet his steady, cold gaze.

Throughout Tattoo’s speech, Dameon hardly blinked. If bedlam still ran about him, he took no notice of it. He heard only Testis’s accusation and his explanation of his deed. And at last, when Testis was finished, Dameon remained silent, thoughtful, as if aware he was being treated to something special when Testis spoke his name. At length, Dameon replied, keeping his gaze intact with the other’s.

“I have not called you a cold-blooded killer or a monster. I have not even thought this. Of course you would have reasons for doing what you did. I appreciate you sharing with me—us,” he corrected, for of course Méav was listening. “If I cared to discuss my opinion of your philosophy now, I certainly would, and I would point out several flaws in your otherwise perfect-seeming reasoning. But now is not the time.” Dameon touched the brim of his hat and winked at Testis, as if they were in on some secret joke together. “Testis, sir, please do not be so quick to judge others. I am not so purely emotional as you may think. As I said, I am grateful that you felt the need to explain everything to me, but your reasons come as no surprise to me, and you need not defend yourself to me. Now, if you would be so kind, it seems we have a small crisis on our hands.”

No sooner had Dameon finished talking when he heard several panicked screams. He could distinguish only one coherent word in the midst of the incoherent shrieks: “Snakes!” ((on a plane! wait, no, in the café! lmao, sorry.)) But Dameon, who had a way with animals, sensed no snakes here. Illusion, he thought, and no sooner had the thought crossed his mind did he raise his voice. “There are no snakes in here!” he called out. “Please, they are only illusions! Avoid them if you must, but they are not real!”

He did not know if even his own soothing voice and his comforting rationality would prevail. Instead, he turned back to Méav and Testis. “M’lady, sir” he addressed them both. He did not want to use Testis’s name too much. He felt it must be kept secret for some reason. “There is some very potent magic here. I know little about these things. But I imagine there is some ill-meaning person or creature here who has the power to create such turmoil. The darkness, now these false serpents…” He shrugged. “I know not what to do. Can either of you help? Will you help?” This last quesiton was addressed more to Testis than to Méav. The woman would certainly help—she already had, with her light—but would Testis wish to stay? He had no fear of the authorities Dameon knew were coming, yet…would he find it worthwhile to stay and save these people? Or would he deem them a necessary sacrifice to prevent a greater horror?

[deathsshadow]

OOC: Egads! Crap it's gone and happened again...Sorry guys, I'm a little prone to godmoding and this sort, comes from writing too many stories before. But, I shll try to prevent further outbreaks and if ever you see any, just tell me and I'll change it. Sorry again! Oh and Kaoru, have you posted at Timlesness lately? Just wondering.

SERENA
H.

Now a glimmer of light penetrated the darkness, coming from the palm of the lady she was tracking. It was bright enough to illuminate the section around their sitting area but not enough to reach the outskirts where she hid. Her wraith like serpents were still causing a bit of rucus but the strangely clothed man proclaimed them mere illusions and not to panic. *Illusions hey may be, but still able to sink a nasty bite!* One of the barely visible coils twisted itself around a chair leg by the speacker's legs and, raising its head, dove at the person's calf with exposed fangs. Not caring wether or not the reptile's canines hit their mark or not, Sere decided on a new hiding place, much better suited for her. The rafters. They could search if they wanted but unless the woman can create a stronger light source or these humans could miraculously develop sharper night vision, finding her was going to be like looking for a pin in a hay stack. And unless she chose to, this haze was going to remain for quite a bit, that is if none of them possesed stronger powers to could diperse it. A good challenge this was proving to be, much more entertaining than she'd though her night would be in a human city. Settling down in a corner beam right next to the tiled roof, Serena sat back as her part was done. What happened next was all up to those below. *Now humans, let the real fun, begin!*

A raven pecked insistently at one of the round, glass windows, cawing its indignation of being locked outside while its mistress rested within.
"Oh hush up you stupid bird! Do you want to ruin the moment?" Sere hissed at it, not even turning her head to awknowledge her companion's prescence.
"Why you little...! Let me in at once you ruffian!" Cree sqwuaked loudly so as to be heard through the thick barrier between the two. "Or you are going to sorely regeret our parents ever met!"
*Parents? Hah, the last we'd heard from them was before they'd joined the Lord of the Dead in the burning pit below the earth! Serves them right as well. But what about me, I'm stuck with a stinkin raven for a partner in this business of mine and the last connection to my family! They could've atleast taken the bird with them when they died.* When Cree continued to beat annoyingly at the panes, Sere relented and snapped the latch right off, allowing the dratted black fowl to fly in. With a rather haughty huff, the raven fluffed out her chest feathers and promptly started to preen herself as though no one else were there. *Idiot!* The girl thought with hatred and returned her distracted attention to things that were actually worth her time.