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Post by 𝒇𝒂 𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒏 on Jan 7, 2019 12:34:31 GMT -5
[ I gotta go to work soon if you guys want to skip to the hospital without me that's fine! ]
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Post by 𝒇𝒂 𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒏 on Jan 7, 2019 13:04:27 GMT -5
dr. pluto xi - -St. Ellen's Hospital was a great many things; underfunded, understaffed, and barely functioning to name a few. As a human hospital, St. Ellen's didn't have access to the same bottomless bank accounts of others. And when the plague drove the vampyres, the money went with them. A small price to pay.
St. Ellen's Hospital was bright white, sterile. It maintained a cleanliness demanded of a place that saw disease after disease on a daily basis. Every inch of it was pristine. Polished. Flawless. Just the way it should be. The clean white walls gave the illusion of a disease-free, perfectly safe environment. It also served to hide the undercurrent of rot lurking just beneath the over-bright lights and freshly-mopped floors.
"Good morning, Dr. Xi."
"Hello, Dr. Xi."
"Did you sleep well, doctor?"
Dr. Pluto Xi moved with quick purpose through the pristine halls, heels tapping out a click click clicking pace to mark his swift progress. His only response to the chorus of greetings by the nurses was a few nods and a acknowledging hand. He drowned his exhaustion under a cup of coffee—heavy creamer, extra sugar. Caffeine combined with the harsh, peeling scent of the hospital roused his mind from sluggish to alert, as it did every morning. His first stop was an important one that demanded he be wide-awake.
His destination was a room on the hospital's fifth floor. A room identical in nearly every aspect to every other room that lined the halls. White walls. White floor. A window. Its only notable feature was its single occupant in its single bed. A nurse making her rounds perked up when the doctor entered the room.
"And how is our angel friend doing this morning?" He asked, taking a sip from his mug. Pluto peered over the mug's red lip at the angel sleeping in the hospital bed. Beautiful in the way that all angels were. Divine. Celestial. Utterly broken. Pathetic little thing.
"We've got him on painkillers. There's still some redness around his stitches," the nurse explained. Dr. Xi nodded at this. As a human hospital, inhuman cases were rare and only popped up as emergencies. And Arthur Rothchild's case had most certainly been an emergency. Sawing off angel wings was tricky business that required painstaking precision, care, and patience. Arthur's case had held none.
It was a butcher job. Haste and urgency made unsteady hands, turned sawing into hacking. Cutting through bone was no easy task, even angel bones would prove difficult in inexperienced hands. Arthur was proof of that, currently suffering through the consequences of the ordeal.
Pluto waved a dismissing hand at the nurse, "You may go now." With that, the doctor and his patient were alone. From across the room, Pluto studied him, wondering what could—should—be done with him. He wasn't keen on caring for an angel. In fact, the very thought repulsed him. But it wasn't every day an opportunity like this presented itself. So rarely did fate make it this easy to abduct an angel. Pluto was sure Peter O'Hara would be thrilled with the prospect. Today was Pluto's lucky day. On top of Arthur's arrival, the doctor had a guest coming to visit him. Which is the exact reason he had called in Aurora Quinn, laid out a meticulous plan to the Burningcloak. If everything went off without a hitch, Ophelia Harlot would be dead beneath smoldering rubble and Pluto would have a new subject to experiment on. Strain 002 was a long way from perfected, an angel was exactly what they needed.
How rare, how rare. How lucky indeed.
Reaching out, the doctor laid a gentle hand on the angel's shoulder, a feather-light touch. "Arthur Rothchild? Would you mind waking up now?" His voice was velvet and honey. Smooth and saccharine. Melodic. "Mr. Rothchild? I have a few questions I need to ask you, if you'd be so kind as to wake up." Pluto had briefly considered leaving the poor fellow unconscious for the events that were scheduled to take place, but where would the fun in that be? There was also the matter of covering his tracks. If Aurora managed to botch the explosion, he needed to make sure Arthur thought he was on his side. Insurance and all. Plan B waiting in the wings. Not that Arthur had any.
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Post by oвlινισи ✧ on Jan 7, 2019 13:10:58 GMT -5
Oh shit, this is gonna be intense It’s those rich, pristine looking hospitals you have to watch out for, man
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Post by servalstrike on Jan 7, 2019 13:16:07 GMT -5
Ophelia Harlot The Devil’s Acre was a heartbeat in the street it sat on. It lacked the neon glow of other night houses, the only marker that it was what the Nightingale promised was the wooden sign that dangle above the doorway. The Devil’s Acre it read from between the carving of a serpent and an apple tree. The gambling house sat in a corner of the city that was somewhere between wealth and poverty, the perfect place for a gambling house, where people had money and others were desperate to get it. The Nightingale ushered the trio around the back, she didn’t need all the gamblers getting in the way. “This way, my pretty darlings, can’t keep her waiting.”
Ophelia drummed her fingers over the pommel of her cane, the silver pressed against her palm was shaped like the head of a snake, the silver hilt gave way to a slim ebony staff. Her thumb idly brushed against the green eye of the serpent. In the other hand she held a heavy, ancient looking book, its pages crisp and yellowed with age. Ophelia’s eyes glossed over the intricately drawn images of anatomy: organs, blood vessels, and bones, all hand-scrawled between paragraphs. It had been one of her Father’s books, his library had been a menagerie of the strange. It seemed she hadn’t strayed too far from her Father in that regard. The office that was tucked away behind the gambling hall was adorned with products of the strange, not to the same extent as Cedric Harlot, as she had no real love for such morbid decorations, but every other step there was an odd bone or two and on display in a bell jar was the shimmering feather of an angel.
She glimpsed at a paragraph detailing the role of bone marrow in the production of blood. It was only prudent to refresh herself on the subject if she was going to visit Dr. Xi and deliver what she had promised. Ophelia became keenly aware of the footsteps that thudded in the hallway outside her door. With her back to the door she rested the open book on the table near her chess set. She was aware of someone being outside her door before they could raise their hand to knock she spoke, “Come in.”
The door groaned opened and a lace-clad face peered inside assessing the situation before speaking, “Madame, I have someone here to see you. I think you have something to offer her.”
“Oh? Do I now?” Ophelia turned her head enough to look over her shoulder as the Nightingale opened the door further and herded in a trio of sorts. Two young women, one man. Ophelia kept her eye on them as they stood before the door, clustered together in the protective huddle of herd animals. The Nightingale crossed the room and in a hushed voice filled Ophelia in on the details. How interesting.
“I see,” something predatory sparked behind her golden-brown eyes as she turned to face them. “A girl wants the power of a true bitten vampyre. Well, Ophelia Harlot, at your service.” She offered a half-bow as she placed her palm to her chest, the other still holding her cane. Lazily she crossed the room, grazing the fingers of her free hand along the edge of the chess board. She towered over the trio and breathed them in. Their scents mingled together in an aroma that was touched with alcohol and anxiety. Her gaze swept over each of them individually drinking them in. Slow, with poise and a iron stance. Her dark coat guarding her neck and arms to her waist, wear her skirt of dark green kissed the skin just below her knees.
The two young women were truly that; young. Sweet faces set with lovely features. The younger one was dark in hair and eyes and plain but pretty. Ophelia took the liberty of grasping a strand of her hair between her thumb and forefinger as she breathed in. A dhampyr, a familiar one at that. “Little Sparrow, you are far from you nest and so fragile.” Her expression remained placid, but amusement flickered in her eyes before she released the girl’s hair and moved on to the man.
His scent danced over her tongue before she even registered fully what it was that stood in study, with the door shut behind him. Her brows raised slightly, the only sign of her surprise. She stopped in front of him. Freckled with blond waves and brown eyes that made Ophelia think of an innocent fawn. Parting her lips, she ran her tongue along the bottom of her teeth. “Well, well,” her fingers grabbed his chin in a light embrace but with her nails against his skin in a touch that said, ‘I don’t have to hold you tight to know you can’t run.’ Leaning forward she lowered her voice, “Sweet little chickadee do you taste as sweet as look?”
Finally, Ophelia turned to the girl who was in need of her services. Ophelia flipped her cane in her hand and pressed the end of it up under the girl’s chin, turning her head from side to side as Ophelia inclined her head. A predator assessing its prey. “My Dove, you want to be a raptor? Give yourself talons and the speed and strength of a hunter?” What would become of a dampyr who was turned? Oh, that was a question Ophelia desperately wanted the answer to. Ophelia leaned forward, her the light of the room gilded her midnight hair, embellishing it with stars. “My price is not cheap, my Dove, what are you willing to pay for the body of a vampyre. How much is weight of your soul worth to you?”
Of course, Ophelia already had an idea of her asking price. Certainly, she couldn’t let the Dove change and set her loose, that would be terribly irresponsible of her. Oh no, three little birds had entered her nest each with feathers of gold and silver and she wouldn’t not so easily let them slip away.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 7, 2019 13:45:07 GMT -5
is there specific info you want or dont want kai to tell daniel ]]
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Post by Deleted on Jan 7, 2019 14:13:24 GMT -5
-- kai nicollier ; v a m p y r e.
Kai looks at the pictures and is both relieved and unnerved that he doesn't recognize them. The fact that there's another group of kids being taken that he hasn't heard of yet is... sort of terrifying. He's trying to fix everything, even though he knows he can't, and knowing this just makes him feel more useless. Hopefully they... they... nevermind. He knew they weren't okay. Whatever was happening to them, they would never forget it. He makes... an uncomfortable sound, which is a resounding yes. He'd wished he wouldn't have to talk about this, but he wasn't going to lie. Not again, that's how people get hurt. " I try to... pay attention to the s-x trafficking around here. But it is true that vampyres who acquire "cattle" prefer them younger, though more around the age of those getting taken from the club, not from their homes." Another sip. Maybe he'd get some liquor, too. " They heal faster than adults and their blood replenishes faster. Little kids are too easy to drain. And yes, my bosses are a part of that trade. They have their own recruiters." Kai sounds monotone, uncaring, but fully stops looking at Daniel for the next topic. It's apparent that he is affected by it, but he's distancing himself from the subject to be able to discuss it. " However, there's still a market for them. Any... anywhere from 2-8, if you're talking young, then there is the preteen category, and young teens. Anything older is considered regular stock, and other things would be needed for them to be exotic. Angels, for instance." He stopped drinking his coffee. While vampyres didn't grow the youngest as "cattle", angels healed faster. Kai again met Daniel's gaze, but there was an unreadable emotion in his eyes. " I've heard some murmurs of things I didn't expect, like... experimentation? But if that were true, taking human children makes no sense, they would die too easily." He looked pensive; he'd been thinking about this since he overheard. Having a new angel was much more valuable to these people than a human child. " Of course, there has been a large concern in the community--vampyres, obviously--over the plague, and how to deal with it, how to cure it. Angel's blood has been a hot topic." There was a person that came to mind, but last time Kai checked, he sold one thing. Granted, there was no telling what he did now, and personally? Kai didn't want to know. He looked away from Daniel again. It wasn't that he was ashamed anymore, it was just... he hated thinking about it. " There's... someone, who although I haven't heard the name come up, it honestly wouldn't surprise me. The type of person who will do anything for money, for power, for more. I thought he'd been dormant, but...
Kai paused for longer than he needed to, almost zoning out for a moment. It didn't hurt like it used to, and he didn't feel like having a panic attack, so everything was Fine. And... now that he thought about it, getting the product wouldn't necessarily be hard if you found someone already proficient in the trade. With s-x trafficking, he wouldn't want rivals, but for something else? It was likely he would be happy to supply, given the right price. " He could supply kids easily, though he wouldn't be doing anything but selling... or... partaking in the goods. If there is money and youth involved, I can give you an old trail to follow. Other than that, there's small time gangs like the Pizarros trying to deal in more than drugs, and--oh, Christ." He's cut off by his cat jumping in his lap, which startled Kai more than it should have. He knew this, too, and put his face in one hand. " Anyway, I've heard talk of a gambling hole in the wall called the Devil's Acre. Kind of edgy, for me, so I'd love to see who owns that, but it might be worth something. I used to work at a club that was a front for... something... else... so, you never know. Or... I could go there and check it out." It wouldn't be hard for him to win enough hands at poker to get the attention of a higher up--that, or he could keep it discreet and listen to whisperings.
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Bisexual
✦ вσвσ
goodbye, my friends
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Post by ✦ вσвσ on Jan 7, 2019 14:42:06 GMT -5
[ ah i think all that info is fine? my reply will be up soon ;3
ooh mush god i love pluto so much<3 i can't wait to see his and aurora's dynamic. replying now :DDD ]
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Post by Deleted on Jan 7, 2019 14:45:34 GMT -5
ok, I'll Reply after 10 EST cause I'm at work]]
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Bisexual
✦ вσвσ
goodbye, my friends
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Post by ✦ вσвσ on Jan 7, 2019 15:26:04 GMT -5
ARTHUR ROTHCHILD - - -
In the quiet deep dark of the brain, memories twined and twisted together. Golden threads connecting to create a hazy, dreamlike sequence. Sweet moments, a mother cradling her child, shielding him from the dark drift beyond. A father with blazing gold wings and a rich voice. Sisters with heavy curls and fluttering lashes, their wings gleaming like polished jewels. A boy with freckles and blue eyes, messy dark hair and a laugh that lit up a room. Another brother lounging on a silken bed, being painted naked by another, his wings a fan of blue. And somehow, impossibly, the glowing ripples of water, showing the soft angular face, pursed lips and bright blue eyes. Feathery blond hair falling in an even center part, the soft grace of a body he'd known for eons. Pale skin covering glass, and the brush of long coppery wings against the water. And tears as the wings withered and the copper rusted away to green grit that fell away, leaving only exposed white bone.
And that's when the dreams twisted into nightmares, emerging as the anesthesia wore off and Arthur Rothchild slipped into uncomfortable dreams. Pain laced through every neuron, pulling apart the very fabric of reality. There was only pain. Burning, ripping, cauterized pain that made him wish he'd died. Black seas opened up and swallowed him whole as pain took hold, taunting him, waving from the doorway, the red slash of a mouth whispering a friendly hello. Pain, the only companion for the last twelve years. It took a hold of his back and snapped it in half, ripped apart the complex neural stitching that made up the fabric of Arthur's being.
And all he wanted was his family. Vera's famous martinis to wash away any kind of discomfort, her soft eyes to understand. Ceres's swaying form as she pulled him in for a dance. The pale twins, ghosts together as they spun across the glass floor of their Ellerian home. The welcoming scent of cloves as Orson would light a cigar and let sweeps of smoke engulf Arthur's face, eyes dancing in the light as they spoke of secrets and love. Ingrid's sweet voice, low and growling as she brought stories to life, her eyes dark pools that saw everything and nothing at the same time. And finally, Michael's singing making them all come together. Make them all giggle together as they piled around the fire and spoke about everything and nothing. Home.
What Arthur Rothchild got instead was his eyes fluttering open against his will, shoulders twisting as pain flickered out of view. But the shadow lurked, soreness playing host for now. He did not find Ellery around him, but rather the sterile sharpness of a hospital. And the threads of his home fell away, dissolving under the burn of chemicals and the beeping of machines. Arthur's mouth was dry, he noticed that immediately and his breathing harsh. He turned his head, the hazy room clearing to form around one of the most beautiful men Arthur has ever seen. Snow white hair, fathomless dark eyes, delicate features. And Arthur's mouth fell open, stunned into silence for a moment. "Who are you?" Arthur managed to rasp, his eyes focusing on the room. He swallowed but found it difficult. He tried to sit up, but it tugged on the pain on his back and he cried out, his elbows giving out underneath him and tears slid from the corners of his eyes. "What's going on?" Arthur whispered, looking up at the cracked tile ceiling above him. He couldn't breathe, his ribs felt like they were gripping tight to his lungs as panic set in.
DANIEL BIRD - - -
Daniel listened, his pen scribbling quickly over the paper. He paused, looking up at Kai from under his lashes. The other man seemed to be distanced from the topic, but there was something catching Daniel's attention. There was more to this story. The way he said cattle, bosses, it was like he'd been deep within the field. Which Daniel probably should've realized sooner considering. Daniel clicked the pen again, brain thinking, trying to lace threads together. "I know. The s-x trafficking is a problem, but unfortunately, not my division," Daniel said, the words rolling stickily off his tongue. He wondered if they connected, but thus far no one in the trafficking division had come up with a definitive link between the children kidnappings and the usual missing teen cases. "And thus far none of our leads have led to any of the usual s-x trafficking culprits," he said, trailing off as Kai grew quiet for a moment.
Daniel knew the ways of how to have people continue to talk. Stay quiet, let them lead the discussion. But the human side of Daniel, the one beat with sensitivity, a side he'd tried to crush long ago during the wars, came pumping back. Something was clearly bothering Kai, something that was obviously tangled in his past. Daniel hesitantly reached out, unsure of what he was going to do. Probably just lay it on Kai's hand, try to be comforting, but remembering the comment in the car and they did not know each other well. So Daniel pulled back and wrapped it around his coffee mug instead. As Kai began to speak again, Daniel waited for a name, but there was none. The cop side of Daniel perked its ears up, urging him to ask, urging him to know the story. "And this is an old boss of yours? The old lead? Who could be interested in...experimentation?" Daniel asked, voice quiet careful. He chose each word with care, making sure he trod lightly on this topic.
Daniel also jumped when the cat leaped into Kai's lap. He flinched back. Gods, he hated animals. He again felt the need to reach out and touch Kai, just try to ground him in some way. But he restrained himself this time, taking a sip of his coffee, letting the bitter heat comfort him. Everything about everything gave him the chills all the way into his marrow. He scribbled down the Devil's Acre. He'd have to check it out. But once Kai suggested it, Daniel shook his head. "No, no. That's not necessary. I don't want you involved in this. Just the things you know and I'll be out of your hair. I don't have informants, even if they are immortal, strong, beautiful vampyres get involved. This is a police matter and it'll be handled by the police." Daniel said, knowing that he wouldn't want Kai anywhere near this if he could help it. Just information and keep Kai at arm's distance from this, especially if it evolved to involve a lot of unsavory people.
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jan 7, 2019 17:10:53 GMT -5
( poor Arthur those are some bad nightmares )
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jan 7, 2019 17:19:37 GMT -5
[ dunno if you've ever been under anesthesia, but you don't dream I have, and it just goes black one instant and the next you're waking up. During the surgery there's nothing ] [ not to cramp on your style Bo lol the post is good ]
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Post by sempis on Jan 7, 2019 17:51:20 GMT -5
[ hey all hopefully everyone's day was alright do we have a specific order we want for meeting ophelia? ]
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Post by servalstrike on Jan 7, 2019 17:59:22 GMT -5
(I don't think so? I guess it's just whoever posts first and we go from there y'know?
Arthur is having such a rough night)
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Post by Deleted on Jan 7, 2019 18:23:11 GMT -5
sorry for typos I'm on mobile and at work
just couldnt resist gay ]]
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Post by sempis on Jan 7, 2019 18:28:09 GMT -5
[ Atm I wouldn't have too much to push things forward, I think I'm going to wait for either glow or mulan to reply
In the mean time I might write up another character or plot with people. For anyone who wants to plan something for a character I'll have written up soon, they'll be a jinn that absorbed their twin in the womb, so they'll be pretty fiery. I ran the idea by Bo so I just have to write them up and have them accepted. I also have Geli open for anyone who has free characters. ]
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Post by servalstrike on Jan 7, 2019 18:37:17 GMT -5
(works for me!
Everyone is churning out new characters but I only have muse for ophelia so i'll stick with her for now and see how I feel later)
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Post by 𝒇𝒂 𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒏 on Jan 7, 2019 20:51:49 GMT -5
[ woooo I'm home from work! I'll work on pluto's reply first 'cause I think it'd be more appropriate for dom to be the first to react to ophelia
and I'm lazy ]
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jan 7, 2019 21:17:00 GMT -5
Bronn Blackwater ;; Human
Bronn was far from amused; his dark blue eyes glared at the angel as Kjorn drew closer, stepping into the light spilling from the porch. The two men stared at each other for a moment; Kjorn was quite the imposing sight, standing at what seemed to be over six feet in height. The wings that Bronn knew Kjorn had were hidden, likely concealed by the tailed jacket that Kjorn was wearing. Bronn studied the man he’d done business with on a few occasions, knowing that Kjorn had at least one blade concealed on him. The angel wasn’t much into fighting, wasn’t much into the violence that was associated with it, but he was wicked fast and had no qualms about defending himself. The last he’d seen Kjorn, they’d parted on… perhaps not the best terms. They hadn’t parted with any particularly dark feelings, but the friendship that had been building between them had been snapped in half and left in the dust. Bronn didn’t blame him; Kjorn had claimed he’d needed to disappear for a time, but he’d refused to tell Bronn why. Bronn had respected that – he hadn’t questioned Kjorn, but he’d been annoyed since Kjorn had owed him money then, and still owed him money. Bronn had completed Kjorn’s job, but the angel had disappeared before he could be paid. So yeah, it was safe to say that Bronn wasn’t particularly happy to see the black-haired Stark patriarch.
“What in seven hells are you doing here, Stark?” Bronn barked out, glowering at the angel. Kjorn gave him a half smirk, crossing his arms over his chest. Bronn’s gaze cut to the angel’s right, and his glower softened a bit. Leighton Vallaway stood next to the Stark, glaring at him with a mixture of contempt and annoyance and disbelief. Leigh wasn’t a big fan of his, and Bronn couldn’t particularly blame her, considering he needled her at every opportunity he had. He couldn’t help it; the dark look that entered her green eyes whenever Bronn directed a flirtatious line in her directions was worth whatever hate he fostered in the Nephilim girl. She gave him such a dramatic eye-roll he thought her eyes would disappear into her skull. He looked between Kjorn and Leigh, a wry smile creeping across his expression. “Bit young for you, Stark, no? I suppose I understand. She is quite pleasing to look at.”
Kjorn blinked in surprise, looking between Leigh and Bronn with a bit of a horrified expression. “I am married, Blackwater,” the angel retorted. Bronn chuckled at that, turning back to his companion. He murmured something to her, and after a moment of glancing between the three others she stood and wandered back into the house behind Bronn. Blackwater watched her go until the door swung shut behind her with a soft click. There was silence once again, except for the sounds of breathing and the sounds of the crickets.
The sell-sword turned back to the angel and half-angel. He stood from his recliner, crossing his arms over his chest like the angel. “What are you doing here, Stark? Here to repay your debts at last?”
“Still sour about that, Blackwater? That was what, fifteen years ago?”
“At least,” Bronn replied. “And here I thought we were friends.”
Bronn chuckled at that. “We were once, perhaps. But I’m a sell-sword, Stark; that’s what I do. I sell my services – I don’t loan them out to friends.”
Kjorn rolled his eyes. “Fine,” the angel huffed. “I’m here because I need your help, Bronn.”
“The lordly Kjorn Stark needs my help? What a day.” Bronn uncrossed his arms, resting his palm on the hilt of the dagger he kept at his waist. “What, pray tell, has caused you to come beckoning at my door.”
“My son has been taken,” Kjorn said rather bluntly. “I want your help to get him back.” Bronn eyed him for a moment. He could tell the angel was quite serious. “It’ll cost you, Stark.”
“Whatever the price, I’ll double it.”
“Done,” Bronn said cheerfully. He extended his hand, and Kjorn shook it.
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Post by oвlινισи ✧ on Jan 7, 2019 21:41:05 GMT -5
Leighton Vallaway ;; Nephilim
She was just waiting for that opening crude remark-
”Bit young for you, Stark, no? I suppose I understand. She is quite pleasing to look at.”
There it was.
It would be a bumpy ride from there. She just knew it. Leighton could just feel the angel snapping his attention over in stunned horror, but the woman just shut her eyes in a calm manner, not surprised at the suggestive and revoltingly inappropriate comment. That did not stop the disgusted, vexed groan from rumbling in her throat, Leigh just shaking her head and raising a hand to rub her temples stressfully. Thank you for the migraine that was beginning to bulldoze over her, Blackwater. He never seemed to change and probably never would, Leighton having decided long ago not to hold her breath over it. Honestly, it was decided within the first ten seconds of first meeting him. Reluctantly opening her eyes and silently wishing to walk away, Leighton studied Bronn’s nightly companion as she sauntered into the house, leaving the three in an awkward silence.
Of all the men in Queen’s Valley, Kjorn’s one suggestion had to be this guy. This trip of a guy.
Although the nephilim knew full well she was going to be annoyed with anything Bronn said or did throughout this whole journey, she still trusted Kjorn and trusted his decisions. If he believed that Blackwater would be a huge benefit to their “team”, then she wouldn’t voice complaints since it wasn’t like Kjorn would change his mind anyway. He seemed to hold some tension and annoyance toward Bronn, too. That didn’t mean she couldn’t glower at Bronn or shut him up before he finished another flirtatious quip, though. Suppressing back a sigh, Leigh side-eyed Kjorn from where she stood near him, but it was Bronn who began to speak. A debt, huh? Of course Bronn would hold a grudge against a fifteen year debt. Leighton didn’t show an inkling of surprise, raising an eyebrow at the human sell-sword as they bickered back and forth. Finally, the deal was struck.
”Whatever the price, I’ll double it.”
“Done.”
Always a sucker for a good price. Leighton nearly let out a humorless sneer of zero surprise. She watched the men shake hands in mutual agreement, really hoping this wasn’t going to end up being a bad idea. All she wanted was to rescue Asriel and get him home safely. That’s all she wanted. As long as Bronn did his job and helped them save him, then they wouldn’t have that much of a problem.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 7, 2019 21:58:05 GMT -5
Oh! i dont know how long the kids being missig thing will last, but kai can adn will get in trouble trying to find info about it be. kids. missing. and daniel would find out and feel like kai was doing it for him and be Upsetti point is if you have a bad situation for someone, i got a someone ]]
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Post by Deleted on Jan 7, 2019 22:04:46 GMT -5
✦ вσвσ : kai's brain while talking to daniel: ! A new objective has appeared on the map. ]]
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Post by Deleted on Jan 7, 2019 22:24:37 GMT -5
-- kai nicollier ; v a m p y r e.
He nodded and resumed drinking his coffee, which was now less hot and therefore less pleasing. "I was going to say, the chances of the kidnappings and the recruitments being related were slim. The thing is, with the trade," he says, like he knows, like he's in it, "part of grooming them is making it your--ah, their 'choice'. Kidnapping wouldn't work; the guilt from coercing is the key." He tripped over a word, and he knows Daniel caught it. There was not way he didn't, but there was nothing he could do about it now. Again, he's already said too much. Kai saw him reach a hand out almost instinctively, then think better of it. At least it wasn't too bad, Daniel didn't appear to be judging him or and he didn't get all awkward. Unfortunately... he got a part wrong, and now Kai needed to clarify. And this was an old boss of yours?
"Not a boss, I mean. You can probably guess at this point. It was a long time ago," he says, sighing tiredly, though more out of emotional exhaustion rather than physical. He was used to working long hours and staying up late, but digging up old corpses didn't do well for someone's psyche.
"However, it's ultimately not relevant. And he wouldn't have been interested in experimentation, no, but providing the experimentees may have been a business opportunity." Kai drained his mug, mildly proud of himself for not grabbing some Kahlua. Maybe it was because he had company, but granted, if the company never showed up, Kai would be reading a book with his cat in his lap by now. And he wouldn't be worrying about another bad situation in the city. He would like to help--now that he knew about the kidnapped children, he had to look into it. Caveat of telling him, apparently. It didn't matter what was happening to the kids, but the fact that anything other than an uneventful childhood was taking place. The children, if they came out alive, would never be the same. Luckily, Daniel provided a topic change, and one that Kai could work with.
"Maybe you could use an informant," he says with a small grin, flirting again, "who just so happens to be beautiful and immortal. You never know when it might come in handy." This time it didn't feel like an act, as it wasn't meant to be. Kai wouldn't pretend in the safety of his own home, not anymore. But no, Daniel was pleasing to the eye, and there was a... tentative "pre-trust" forming. While that would break his "no bedding snitches" rule, well... technically, Kai was a snitch too, wasn't he?
"And what if I get into trouble and I just so happen to need your help, Daniel?" Kai almost purrs, pronouncing his name like Danielle, but lighter, because of his accent. His eyes, earlier more icy than anything else, had warmed to a more welcoming blue; still accented with black and gold winged eyeliner that he hadn't been able to take off yet. The jewels, too, on his neck, they were still there, and he imagined Daniel coming into the club wearing something that didn't make him stick out like a sore thumb. The difference here was that they were in Kai's apartment, not a hotel, and that was further than anyone else ever got.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 7, 2019 22:26:16 GMT -5
repost bc i edited it, yeet ]]
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jan 7, 2019 23:14:55 GMT -5
Asriel Stark ;; Demon
Asriel swam to consciousness, fighting his way through an inky swamp of shadows and pain. He’d been engulfed by the shadows for what seemed like a long time, though Asriel couldn’t tell or know just how long his imprisonment had been. His head was pounding in time with his heart, sending agony skittering through his entire skull. It was like molten fire was bathing the inside of his skull, lapping against the edges of his mind – so intense that it silenced even the voices; they could only wail softly at the misery assailing Asriel. Even his jaw hurt; he could tell it was swollen, and figured it was probably broken, or at the very least fractured. The level of pain that danced along his jawline and along his face was exquisite; if he focused, he could almost feel the separate injuries that were causing his battered body such distress.
He couldn’t breathe; it felt as though a metallic band had been strapped against his chest and tightened to an impossible degree. Each inhalation was sent torment dancing across his ribcage and down his back, spidering along every bone, muscle and nerve as it went along. It stung far worse than Asriel could even imagine – could even describe. There was another center of woe to the right of Asriel’s back, and it took him longer than usual to figure out that it was his right wing. It took him even longer to realize his wing was broken; the pain was similar to the one in his jaw, throbbing and pulsing and moving around like a strange blend of liquid fire and ice, cold and hot at the same time. He could feel someone begin to move his wing about, shifting the bones and grinding the splintered end together. If it wasn’t for Asriel’s swollen jaw, he would’ve burst into tears and wailed at the assault to his senses. No matter how much he prayed in his head, he stayed awake for each terrible moment, was entirely aware of each second of torture as the bones in his wing were set and then bound.
His eyes swam with the tears that stained his cheeks; finally, he cracked one dark eye open to peer around him. There were several shadows that swam into view. After a moment his vision focused and he was staring at several different men. He couldn’t remember much of what had happened, considering his demon had lunged to the front and Asriel had been forced into a backseat position in his own body. He’d seen flashes of what had happened – could remember a few things and a few faces. The face staring down at him was one of those he remembered. He blinked several times and peered around, realizing that his hands had been bound together and then chained to some nearby post. He didn’t know where he was, but it looked like some sort of abandoned warehouse. When he tipped his head up a bit, wincing at the vertigo that suddenly assailed him, he could see the pale dawn sun peering through several large holes in the roof.
The place was derelict, cold and damp and Asriel was terrified. His demon was silent, buried deep within him as it struggled to regain its strength. It had fought hard but had been overpowered. The same pain that Asriel was in, his demon was also feeling. He could hear several sets of footsteps thudding around, but he couldn’t count the number. He switched his attention back to the man crouching in front of him, and his eyes grew even darker when he saw what the man was doing.
He held up one hand, something clutched between his thumb and forefinger. It was one of Asriel’s feathers, red as blood and capped in gold and black. He twirled the feather around, spinning it between his fingers as he stared at Asriel. He gave the chained man a half-smirk, taunting Asriel.
“Never thought I’d live to meet a demon,” the man said, tone light and conversational as if he wasn’t speaking to someone battered and chained but rather was speaking to someone at a bar or restaurant. He stopped spinning the feather and abruptly crushed it in his hand. “You’ll fetch a handsome price. Makes the trouble we went through getting you worth it. You kill Flynn, by the way; tore his very heart out of his chest. Quite the sight.” He let the feather slip between his fingers into his palm. “I wonder what sort of weapon you could become?” Abruptly he crushed the feather, smashing the delicate barbs into a tattered mess.
“First we’ll take those wings of yours. You won’t be needing them where you’re going, and they’ll go for almost as much as you. Red, gold and black. Never seen those colors before.” He stood, dropping the macerated feather to the floor in front of Asriel. “Get comfortable. Oh wait, you can’t.” He stood there, grinning down at Asriel; there was a dark and crazed look in his brown eyes, one not dissimilar to the look that he’d probably had when his demon had taken control. The man lifted his foot and stamped on the broken feather, grinding it into the dusty, dirty floor.
Asriel’s demon took control for a brief moment, glaring at the man with a promise of pain. Then it retreated, and Asriel was left with the misery assaulting his body. He closed his eyes, letting himself mope a bit. He tugged at his bonds, testing the strength and reach of the chains. The reach was short, and the chains were as strong as iron, cold metal biting into his wrists. The chains jangled softly as he moved, and despite the fire that lapped through his veins, he continued to search for a way out. He couldn’t fly – not until the break in his wing was healed, which probably wouldn’t be for a couple of hours or days yet, he wasn’t entirely certain – but if he got free, he’d take as many of these f***ers as he could with him. Oh, he didn’t doubt they’d try their best not to kill him, but Asriel would die before he let them strip him of his wings. He’d already had so many things stripped from him – his humanity, his compassion, his dignity. He would not lose his wings. Never. Never.
A new sound reached Asriel’s ears; it was as soft as a summer wind’s sigh, but distinctive. For a heartbeat, he couldn’t place it. He shifted his gaze to the sky once more as he had the sudden realization of what the sound was: the wind whistling through feathered wings. It was soft, barely audible over the sounds of talking from his captors, but drawing closer… and closer… and closer. Asriel searched the pale dawn sky with confusion. Nothing; no shadows moved, no birds drew closer. The sound stopped, and Asriel made a noise of sorrow deep in his throat.
And then his world was rocked.
A dark gray blur dropped through the largest hole in the ceiling, so far that it was nearly invisible. It struck the ground and stopped, sending dust and debris flying. Asriel squinted, and when the dust cloud cleared his eyes widened in shock at what he saw.
The shape unfurled its wings.
Kjorn Stark stood in the center of the warehouse, wings outstretched, gray feathers ruffled from flight. In each hand he held some sort of sword, the steel glinting like silver fire in the poor lighting of the warehouse. Tears pooled in Asriel’s eyes once again, spilling over to stain his cheeks. His father… his father had come for him. Several people stared at the angel openmouthed for a moment, as Kjorn’s dark gaze scanned the faces. His eyes settled on the leader, the man who’d been taunting Asriel a few moments before, and fury flashed across his face. Kjorn curled his upper lip back into a cruel smile. As several of the men cursed and lunged to grab nearby firearms, Kjorn moved. His silver fire flashed.
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Bisexual
✦ вσвσ
goodbye, my friends
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Post by ✦ вσвσ on Jan 7, 2019 23:32:52 GMT -5
[ i know you don't dream while under anesthesia, but it was just for some flare or style or some bs like that xD artistic liberties with medical facts lol
replying now<3 ]
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jan 7, 2019 23:35:03 GMT -5
[ xD I liked it Bo lol it was well written
anesthesia is weird af I hate it ]
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Bisexual
✦ вσвσ
goodbye, my friends
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Post by ✦ вσвσ on Jan 7, 2019 23:37:38 GMT -5
[ aww thank you<33 no yeah it sucks. it always made me so incredibly sick that i literally thought i was going to throw up all my intestines ]
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jan 7, 2019 23:41:41 GMT -5
[ oh yea after my shoulder surgery I vomited every hour on the hour for about 10 hours (: was GREAT ]
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Post by Deleted on Jan 7, 2019 23:42:50 GMT -5
that sounds like you were allergic to it my guy ]]
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jan 7, 2019 23:47:44 GMT -5
[ No, just really bad nausea. The next time I had surgery they gave me a vertigo patch and I was fine ]
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