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Post by Deleted on May 23, 2017 17:56:55 GMT -5
i thought no one died oh no ]]
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Post by ☾ Cʀᴇsᴄᴇɴᴛ ☽ on May 23, 2017 18:12:01 GMT -5
Three civilians died. I put that in the Sterling News and the plot updates on the member page. That's where I'll put details of what's happening.
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Post by Deleted on May 23, 2017 18:16:09 GMT -5
ahhh ok ill make it so kai didnt know that ]]
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on May 23, 2017 18:48:59 GMT -5
It had always been endearing in his opinion. The manner in which Nicandro touched at politics with a hint of civility, it had always came to amuse him despite saying nothing. He would not look a gift horse in its mouth if Nicandro wanted to push the conversation idly along by agreeing with his statement. Rather, he found himself nodding, extending a hand towards the younger man, briefly appraising his attire. Three piece suit and tie. Hmm, maybe the black tie dress code was too formal. He personally didn't think so.
"That has always been a good question, Nicandro," he said easily, picking off from where the man had stopped. His gaze moved over to Anastasia. Beautiful, violent, and deadly Anastasia. She had an air of authority to her and considering the Cathouse was her realm of control, it made perfect sense. She was the one he would be keeping an eye on for now. Nicandro was a smart man, that he would accept without argument. However, Nicandro was not a man to fear in a battle of wits. He had an easy tell to him, a certain aura of joviality that made him less dangerous. Anastasia on the other hand knew how to play the part of the submissive and docile as well as the commanding and powerful. She knew how to play her cards properly.
That, and she looked deviously well put together.
She had not said anything since his appearance and he wondered idly if it was to allow everybody a chance to settle in. Or perhaps she was doing what was wisest, sitting back and watching. Unbuttoning his tuxedo suit jacket, he smoothed out the lapels before taking a seat with his eyes idly moving on from Anastasia to analyze the remaining septets. There was a time he trusted them. That time has long passed.
Clearing his throat he returned his gaze to Anastasia, a charming smile toying at his lips even as he spoke. "I'm certain you all understand why we're here today," His voice was not unkind. Rather, he held himself with an air of dignity and allowed his tone of voice to remain gentle and soft, rather than overpowering. There was little commotion and absolutely no reason to raise his voice. What went unsaid was the subject of the conversation.
The attack, and more importantly, what they were going to do in response to said attack. He wasn't going to offer any plans, not quite yet. He wasn't going to take control, he was going to open the conversation and allow everyone a chance to state their opinions - no matter how reckless or violent they turned out to be.
After all, he couldn't let it look like they had no say in the matter. That was just bad diplomacy at play. The other septet would not react well to him taking control of the situation without their input, so he would let them have their say. And then he would have his. Raising his hand up to adjust the onyx cuff links he found his gaze still lingering on Anastasia, watching her carefully. It was not a misdirected gaze inspired by lust. No, such callings had no place in a business setting. It was a careful one, a watchful one.
She had as much power as he did in dictating the nature of this conversation.
She was as much an enemy as she was an ally. He did not let that bother him too much even as he accepted a drink from one of Anastasia's attendants, bidding some of his attention to the glass of wine as he swirled it absentmindedly and raised it up to inhale the fragrant scent of the wine. His next actions were cautious in the manner of a sommelier, not a man who was afraid of poison.
Taking a tentative sip he raised an eyebrow in approval. He would ask her the year and make of the wine later, it wasn't one he generally frequented despite his wide birth of knowledge in alcohol.
Softly, he continued speaking, "After all, such a display cannot go unanswered."
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Post by ☾ Cʀᴇsᴄᴇɴᴛ ☽ on May 23, 2017 19:01:07 GMT -5
Ooh, i'll get to replying! Gotta love Al. He's one slick politician. xD
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Post by вlue вlood on May 23, 2017 19:04:10 GMT -5
ain't nothing like a starter to remind me how hECKIN SLOW i write c':
swear i'm almost done lmao just gotta vaguely adjust for y'alls new posts c8
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on May 23, 2017 19:05:08 GMT -5
ain't nothing like a starter to remind me how hECKIN SLOW i write c':
swear i'm almost done lmao just gotta vaguely adjust for y'alls new posts c8 shhhhhhh bb, u gunna do just fine <3 I type a lil like Hamilton. And what I mean by that is: NONSTOP
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Post by ☾ Cʀᴇsᴄᴇɴᴛ ☽ on May 23, 2017 19:10:51 GMT -5
No worries, BB! And you don't have to type monster posts if you want to get them out a little quicker. The minimum is about two paragraphs, after all. We won't judge, trust me!
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Post by вlue вlood on May 23, 2017 19:14:26 GMT -5
hOW dO u WriTE LIKE UR RuNnING OUT Of TiME???
lmao ngl i don't usually check how long my posts are i just kinda. write whatever's in my head and it's either a monster or next to nothing haha
and u can tell because most of it is scatterbrained nonsense :^)
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on May 23, 2017 19:15:08 GMT -5
Thank God. Thank God somebody still had their heads on their shoulders! At least Lin agree with him, and Lin was one heck of a scary woman so that meant he had one hell of a backing from her. Three people had died for an attack that should have been planned out better. Hell, if he had it his way it wouldn't have been an attack. He was a thief and by most people's standards, thief equated to small time criminal. Even if he stole more than his weight's worth in gold. Twenty times over.
No, no, these were lives they had taken in their own misdirected rage towards the Septet. How did that make them any better? Especially not only that they had killed three i n n o c e n t people, but they hadn't even gotten their target! It was like planning one of the world's biggest heist and getting out without being caught with one big problem - they were caught with their pants down, their face on camera, and they stole nothing but useless things. That was what this situation was sizing up to look like.
He could hardly keep the disgust out of his angered huff when Kai called him out on his volume. He could be louder, thank you very much. "For some crazy super spy kind of guy, you sure have some faulty intel," he snapped back, following on the heels of Lin's outburst. Heck yeah he was mad. "Three people died, Kai. Three." There went their unstained vigilante titles.
A bombing that killed innocent civilians, did absolutely nothing, and got them on the news headlines as terrorists. Yeah, that sounded like a fool proof plan. Absolutely fool proof. So perfect, he was certain a five year old with a crayon eating addiction could have done better. This was bad news. It was terrible news. It was the worst kind of news and he absolutely hated it.
He never had blood on his hands. Never! And now he was guilty by association. In all his years of petty and not-so-petty thief, he had never killed a single soul. Not even the bad guys. Not even the worst ones. He just exposed the things they did to the public eye and ruined every ounce of their reputation until it blew up to kingdom come and those guys - the worst kind - had no way back. So they fled, they were captured, and they were scorned by the public.
This was not his style. This was a far cry from his style. This was totally not cool, absolutely unacceptable. That and it finally made sense why Ji Su sidelined him. This wasn't theft. This was murder. "You know, this is going to come back and bite us in the as-," he groaned, finally taking a seat, slumping into the chair as he did so.
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on May 23, 2017 19:15:53 GMT -5
No worries, BB! And you don't have to type monster posts if you want to get them out a little quicker. The minimum is about two paragraphs, after all. We won't judge, trust me! yeah boi, this is a judge free zone. absolutely no judging <3
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on May 23, 2017 19:18:41 GMT -5
hOW dO u WriTE LIKE UR RuNnING OUT Of TiME???
lmao ngl i don't usually check how long my posts are i just kinda. write whatever's in my head and it's either a monster or next to nothing haha
and u can tell because most of it is scatterbrained nonsense :^)
TALK LESS, SMILE MORE! -snickers-dude, I get the feeling. Length checking is kind of tedious lol
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Post by ☾ Cʀᴇsᴄᴇɴᴛ ☽ on May 23, 2017 19:26:12 GMT -5
Anastasia hovered in the corner a dazzling smile on her face. "Imani, go organize the servants, will you?" she asked, shooing the dark-skinned beauty away with a graceful hand. "Keep the refreshments coming. And maybe bring out the cigars?" she suggested, though it wasn't really a suggestion as much as an order. That was how she usually talked to Imani.
The maidservant lowered her neck and glanced at the ground subserviently before slipping away silently, not even rustling her short skirt as she dashed off. Anastasia watched her go before turning back to survey the room with an analytical gaze, though she masked it as one of friendliness.
She had greeted each guest as they entered with a cordial nod or a few words but had remained rather silent other than that. Well, she hadn't quite done that with Alphonse. She had allowed him to drift in as he wished and, to put it frankly, ignored him. It was part of the little authority game they seemed to play, nothing less complicated than anything short of a game of chess. How far could one push the other before irritating them? Were they allies or enemies? The question was always in play. She let her eyes rove over towards him.
Of course, he was well-dressed in that debonair, casual sort of way. The kind that would make most women in their thirties and forties swoon and sigh and fall at his feet, just as he liked it. Not Anastasia, though, oh no. He was attractive, yes. But he was dangerous, and Anastasia made sure never to meddle with fire. It was funny: they were like two sides of the same coin. She caught his eye and smirked a little, as if to say, I see what you're doing here. Don't think you can hide from me.
Then she looked over at Nicandro. He was interesting, one of the younger of the Septet. He was clever, yes, with a sly tongue, but he was also a little less mature, a little less cutthroat. And in a place like Sterling City, that did him no favors. She was not afraid of him, though, just like the other members of The Septet, she did not trust him.
Anastasia grabbed a glass of wine as her servant passed, taking a small sip. She licked her lips slowly before opening her mouth to speak. "Does anyone have thoughts on this? To what degree do you six think we should retaliate? Or depending on your view, not retaliate at all?" she said smoothly, leaving the conversation open just as Alphonse had. Her tone gave nothing away at all. The woman batted her eyelashes at him, her expression sly. Two can play this game, little politician, she thought.
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Post by Deleted on May 23, 2017 19:27:09 GMT -5
ok LISTWEEN you HECK PEOPLE WRITE REALLY DAMN FAST ]]
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Post by Deleted on May 23, 2017 19:27:21 GMT -5
ill edit it gggggg ]]
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on May 23, 2017 19:27:50 GMT -5
ok LISTWEEN you HECK PEOPLE WRITE REALLY DAMN FAST ]] I'M LAUGHING SO HARD AT THIS ]
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Post by ☾ Cʀᴇsᴄᴇɴᴛ ☽ on May 23, 2017 19:28:39 GMT -5
Really? I've never thought of myself as a particularly fast writer. xD I mean, I did write 50,000 words in three weeks for Camp NaNoWriMo and I'm currently taking a Creative Writing Class, so maybe that has something to do with it? Idk, I've actually always thought I was on the slow side.
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Post by вlue вlood on May 23, 2017 19:28:48 GMT -5
YALL DO WRITE DAMN FAST im just gonna stick up my first bit and redo thea's bc it barely makes sense now haha
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Post by ☾ Cʀᴇsᴄᴇɴᴛ ☽ on May 23, 2017 19:29:26 GMT -5
Also, so with the Sentinels we actually do need some of them to have been directly involved in the setting off and making of the bomb. I'm thinking Theodora made it? And maybe one of the others, who haven't been claimed yet, set it off?
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on May 23, 2017 19:31:47 GMT -5
oooh, that would be interesting. I mean I feel like of the sentinels, Humility must have been the one to give the okay. Idk who would have planted it, but maybe temperance?
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on May 23, 2017 19:32:01 GMT -5
'm gonna wait to respond to give u guys some time xD
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Post by ☾ Cʀᴇsᴄᴇɴᴛ ☽ on May 23, 2017 19:32:56 GMT -5
I'm gonna work on Lin's response then same as Xia, I'll let ya'll respond, haha! No pressure, guys. Type at the speed you can.
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Post by вlue вlood on May 23, 2017 19:33:00 GMT -5
Emil Reed
The sound of the door slamming shut, with unapologetic noise, pulled Reed out of sleep immediately, but he kept his eyes closed, and stayed entirely still, as if ignoring his visitor might somehow allow him to fall back into the precious peace of sleep. Instead, he had to hear the purposeful steps grow gently louder along their familiar course. And stop.
"Oi. Get up, you dozy dolt."
"...I'm gonna kill you," Reed mumbled in response, eyes still decidedly shut. The words were utterly nonthreatening. Across the room, the blinds were shoved open, and merciless winter sunshine streamed through the wide windows and bounced off the white painted walls.
"Sweet. See you at the Ring tonight, we'll see what the betters reckon for your chances."
His head turned; light hazel eyes finally flickered open, only to find the familiar face peering too close over him. "Ugh, get outta my face," he snapped, pushing Ansel's face away firmly and languidly pushed himself into a kind of sitting position. Satisfied that his boss was awake, Ansel grinned and straightened up, heading across the room to the kitchen. He purposefully clattered coffee mugs as he dragged a couple out from a cupboard. Reed watched through half-open eyes, adjusting to the pale light. He gazed numbly as light was thrown through empty or half-empty bottles on the low coffee table, casting colourful reflections on the glass surface.
The house was open plan, light and airy and its interiors clearly designed by someone other than the owner - somebody who actually knew what they were doing. It was an unassuming Silver Streets bungalow, a place which in a parallel universe was probably a very pleasant one to inhabit indeed: modest but spacious in an industrial chic sort of style, with all the potential to be a clear and cosy space. In this universe, however, it was a cluttered and unclean residence, the kitchen dusty from lack of usage, the adjoined living room always in disarray and the couch more often used as a bed than the actual bedroom bed, the whole house with an all too distinctive scent in the air. It was always just a little too hot or a little too cold for comfort, the expansive windows either sucking warmth out or letting the sun superheat the inside depending on the season. He was still stuck in fascination when Ansel turned around again. "You still haven't moved," the other man pointed out critically. Submitted to his fate, Reed stood, heading to take a shower that he genuinely intended to be quick, but it ended with a through-the-door argument with Ansel that essentially ended with some muffled sentence along the lines of "I don't care if it seemed like five minutes, the clock says twenty and the coffee's colder than a witch's--"
In his so-called bedroom, the bed itself was both unmade but unslept in. He fished out a fresh pair of dark jeans and a greyish-blue shirt. It hung off his frame too loosely to really look 'good', but he hadn't the care to change. Reed felt no need to dress to impress, not really for anyone and certainly not for the rest of the Septet. He felt his place in the world was all the same whether he got all dressy or not. He hadn't politicians or lawyers to impress and intimidate like Alphonse; he had not Anastasia's hostess pride.
Ansel was already twirling the car keys around a finger by the time Reed re-emerged, and he had a smug sort of vague smile on his face, too proud of a job well done. Reed didn't thank him when he handed over the now reheated coffee, firstly because he wasn't in the habit of handing out gratitude, secondly because he was wholly unenthusiastic about this Septet meeting. More than that, he didn't even see the point. From his information - gathered from a brief call from one of his people somewhere between the tailend of last night's revelries and the point at which he fell asleep on his couch (he frankly couldn't remember at what times either of these things occurred) - nobody important was dead and it was a clumsy move by people only proving their incapability.In this city, they were practically gods. Whatever instinctive panic or concern had caused the others to feel an imminent meeting was necessary, Reed felt none of it.
Leading the way out of the house, Ansel locked up behind them. It was also predetermined, without discussion, that he drove. (The car in question: a '68 Camaro, abused enough to indicate that it, like the house, was selected by someone with more care and knowledge for these things than the owner). The relationship between the two of them was not something Reed particularly cared to nail down with words. Too definitively a subordinate to exactly be a friend, but too close a friend for the boundaries to end at subordination. A right hand man to whom he would entrust his life - and pretty much had. His Septet comrades may be surrounded by people who would jump whatever height on command, but Reed knew by observance and experience that he'd take Ansel's slightly callous camaraderie over some quivering mess who could barely think for themselves. He knew Ansel like an extension of himself. He'd never given him a reason to doubt him, thus his trust was unquestioned. He executed his will often without even needing explicit command. Besides, the guy had his house keys, car keys, and oftentimes ended up carrying around his phone when Reed inevitably forgetfully abandoned it somewhere. Reed figured if he secretly wanted him dead or anything, he'd be long dead in the ground already. They drove to the Cathouse in comfortable silence, and Reed exited still in that woozy quiet, Ansel giving a (probably mocking) salute as he did.
His lack of enthuse was not helped by these familiar faces. It was like stepping into a nest of snakes, and even before much was said, it felt like games were at play. Games which he couldn't muster up the energy to care about even if he tried.
"I'm not sure that I do understand why we're here, actually, Alphonse," he replied, his tone just a little more impertinent than he really intended. "We're all here, aren't we? I hardly think we need to fight fire with fire when the other side don't even know how to strike a match."
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Post by вlue вlood on May 23, 2017 19:35:48 GMT -5
yep yep sounds good my dudes
thea post slowly but surely incoming but like don't wait for me bc i'm slow af haha i'll make sure it fits in not too bad if anything was added in between
and then i'm going to sleep bc it's 1:35am lmaoo
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Post by Deleted on May 23, 2017 19:36:12 GMT -5
Of course, there had to be another. Everyone was so loud, why was this really a problem? "Please, God, shhh," Kai whined, forcing himself to sit up. He rubbed at his eyes with the base of his palms, then brought his hands up and ran his fingers through his hair. "As much as I may be for aggressive vigilante justice, I didn't do it. I didn't do much of anything last night, as you can see. And even then, bombs are risky. I wouldn't touch one unless I was absolutely positive it wouldn't blow my limbs off. What's the problem?" If no one got hurt, it's fine. It was just a bar, it meant nothing to them. But he couldn't help but worry, I mean--he was not in his best shape when he saw the news, what if he missed something? Fear settled in the pit of his stomach as he considered this.
And, of course, he was right.
"Three? Oh God--Listen, no, that's f*cked. And I do have good resources, I'm just a hungover piece of sh*t. Sorry.Merde. Where's Theodora? Who were the civilians?" Kai rambled, standing and straightening his clothed. He found his burner phone, flipped it open, and groaned, seeing the texts from Xander. "Son of a b*tch," he cursed under his breath, angrily jamming the phone into his pocket and moving to tie his hair back.
"So, they know it was us," Kai said, speaking through the hair tie currently in his mouth as his hands were putting his hair up. He held the ponytail with one and took the tie from his mouth with the other, easily wrapping it around the length and then brushing excess out of his face. "We have a worse reputation now, and, dammit, we should probably expect retaliation." God damn, he was an idiot. Of course, his first urge in his self-pity was to drink, but that hadn't helped and he hadn't even had his coffee.
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Post by Deleted on May 23, 2017 19:37:06 GMT -5
WHy do you WREite liliieke your RUNNINg out of TIme ]]
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Post by ☾ Cʀᴇsᴄᴇɴᴛ ☽ on May 23, 2017 19:37:17 GMT -5
Aw, okay Blue! Wow, you're time zone is super different from mine. And wow, I'm loving Reed. He's so "I don't care" with that slouchy attitude. xD
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Post by Deleted on May 23, 2017 19:37:44 GMT -5
also ill respond with nic later i must... do some things and maybe play some overwatch but like. give me a little whiloe ]]
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Post by Deleted on May 23, 2017 19:39:07 GMT -5
how old are y'all if i may ask ]]
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Post by ☾ Cʀᴇsᴄᴇɴᴛ ☽ on May 23, 2017 19:39:56 GMT -5
No problem doze! Take a break if you need.
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