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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Aug 15, 2015 2:33:11 GMT
(Open rp; think of a Gotham-like city, just not named such as I don't want to restrict it to only a Batman-style story. Please keep powers reasonable if you do super powers; characters that would work well would focus on either heroes or villains, particularly if they have an alter-ego that works with the rich and famous too. Discussion thread: Here)It was a still night, the clouds over the city letting just enough moonlight through to make the fog eerie and mystifying. Across dark buildings were reflections of the night sky, minimal advertisements glowing faintly in the upper end. In the seedier parts of the city, flashing neon lights were the norm, advertising goods to rich and poor alike, all for the right type of price. In this upper crust neighborhood, filled with sky rises and elegant condos, there was a pretense that the rich did not fraternize with such seedy places. The fact that many were secretly attending these unsavory locales made this a prime location for certain types of thieves. Parties thrown here tended to focus on the rich and powerful, spending idle evenings bragging about their multiple forms of status. Schedules, inventories… the rich so loved to compare their treasures, and the securities that protected said treasures.
So much for those securities.
This time it had been an active security guard watching screens, drinking an umpteenth cup of coffee and munching on a sugary donut to keep himself alert. There had been a rash of crimes in this neighborhood in recent months, and he had long since decided he would be ready. In his late fifties and lacking in his exercise, however, meant he’d stand little chance against many of the better known thieves that frequented the jail or asylum. However, that did not seem to be as much of an issue this time. What had surprised everyone the most was the lack of identification of the thief in many of these new thefts, leaving no trace. Usually, the thieves here were bold and egotistical enough to leave a calling card. This new one didn’t even leave a mark on a video screen.
Being so focused on the screens was a double edged sword, as there was no camera immediately outside the security room. She could sense that given the check list being considered. The guard sat focused, eyes flickering between the screens. Front entrance… clear. Gardens… clear. Back stairs… aside from his partner, clear. Vault door… clea- “Oh!” the guard started, suddenly knocking his coffee cup over onto the floor. He immediately moved to clean it up, wiping with tissues and handkerchief. When he sat up again, he realized the screens had all gone dark. With a muttered curse, he immediately began to try and turn the screens on again, worried that his coffee spill had short circuited the security system by hitting the cords. He never twinged to the fact that someone had slipped in behind him after his coffee spilled, scrambled the security system enough for it to shut down, and escaped just as easily, while he focused on fixing a short circuit problem.
Getting past the guards tonight had been deliciously simple; a little distraction, and rapt attention was given a brand-new focus. Most thieves would scurry and sneak through to the vault, sliding through the shadows to avoid being seen by any wandering guards or cameras. This figure took an entirely different approach, softly humming to herself as the one wandering guard became obsessed with fixing his radio, unsatisfied with the clarity of the signal. It was a song that she began to half dance to as she quickly and quietly snuck along, well aware that she had already dealt with the only people in the place. The owners, she knew, were on a lavish vacation, and it would be another week before anyone discovered the theft. With practiced ease, she went up to the vault door and twisted out the code, opening it with a wry little smile at how people tended to think of the combinations to their security systems as they were bragging about how secure those combinations were. Soon the expensive baubles were hers – necklaces encrusted in diamonds and sapphires, rings, bracelets and cufflinks mixing gemstones and mother of pearl. Into a satchel, and the door was closed, everything replaced as it was before. Sneaking past the two guards remained simple, as they would be preoccupied she knew for at least another ten minutes given how her ability worked. Then their searches and careful monitoring would resume, fully unaware that anything untoward had taken place.
Back outside, the thief nimbly ascended to a nearby rooftop, pausing to watch the night moving along as if she hadn’t entered the mini-mansion. She giggled, high off of the excitement of being able to sneak in and out so smoothly, so successfully. In a blue, two-tone bodysuit and short leather jacket, long blonde hair loose against a black mask that obscured her eyes, she looked very much the part of a thief in this city. It was a hotbed for strange figures, a menagerie of crooks and thieves who worked for the crazed and powerful. Who would be blamed for this latest achievement of hers, she wondered as she moved, gracefully making it from one building to the next. Some had already been blamed, even though she hadn’t left a calling card. Thus far, there was no rumor of a new thief in the city, no unidentified costumed figure. A few exciting and anonymous months in this city, and Trace could feel her desire to take her fill of the adventure grow with each passing crime. It was an addictive high.
Coming to the top of a steeple-like attachment to one grandiose building, Trace hung with one hand as she spun around, grinning from ear to ear as she surveyed the city. Her city. In these short few months she had only had one distant encounter with any infamous figures of the city, heroes or villains. The closest she had gotten was out of costume, watching thugs of one crime lord being taken into police custody. That was associated in her mind with her civilian life, that simply being a citizen put her at risk. But these risks were common in this dark, crime-ridden town, and few talked about them as threats. Indeed, some of the better known criminals had fans who followed their work, as taken by them as other forms of celebrity. Trace had never felt she had the time to waste on others like that. She was too busy living a life that was far more thrilling. With her smile still open and full of pure joy, she jumped off of the spire, using a grappling hook to swing to the next building, racing on as if being chased. In fact, she was the one chasing the night. She would go home with her prize… eventually.
----------------------------------------------------
As predicted, it wasn’t until a week later – a week and a half, actually – that the couple who owned the jewels decided to wear them and discovered their disappearance. It hit the newspapers who flourished on theories by this expert and those analysts on who could have perpetrated the crime. Reading through one particularly juicy theory in a less than accredited source, Danielle Woods waited for the taxi to reach her stop. With the traffic at this time of day, it was little wonder why it was taking so long. Dani had a steady supply of cash, however, and didn’t mind paying a little extra to be in the air conditioning and quiet. She had recently left a position as a temporary personal assistant to the CEO of one of the three leading companies in the city, and was currently on her way to a company anniversary party he was hosting. It would be a place to network, and to interview potential employers as much as they could interview her. After all, she had worked her way into a position where she could call the shots on her own future.
This emphasis wasn’t surprising to anyone who might know her past, but of course she had left all of those people behind. All her life, up until only a few short years earlier, she had been told she was weak, a burden that had to be taken care of. She had been living her life in a cage that wasn’t even gilded. It had taken courage she didn’t know she had to escape, to learn how to control an ability that she thought only made her more of a freak. Now this ability was natural to her, freedom a right she had fought for and earned. Dani would die before she’d give up that freedom. So despite her flirtatious manner, accepting invitations to parties and private dinners, she played up her role as eye candy without sacrificing the mystery. It was much nicer to be wined and dined as well as paid, and so she would dress the part. It did not mean that she would let it embody her. After all, she had her “hobby” to keep up.
She was finishing her magazine as the taxi finally made it to the curb it was hunting for, Dani getting out and paying the driver a generous tip. He smiled and waved in response, surprised by the size of the tip into showing a warmer side. Flipping her long locks over her shoulder, Dani walked towards the entrance of the posh hotel restaurant, the confident yet subtle smile well aware of many of the double takes being taken of her. Skin toned heels, a skirted suit made up of charcoal grey, and a neatly arranged violet silk blouse made her look both professional and businesslike, and absolute eye candy. Of course each pleat flattered, each crease carefully constructed. Her most recent employer preferred blondes, and so she didn’t bother with a wig. Appearance was everything in this type of work, and distractions were everything Dani was about. Unlike the people about her as she entered and was escorted to the reserved tables, she could make herself disappear when she wanted to, protecting the real face beneath these masks. The sweet, friendly smile and open gaze did nothing to suggest that these parties were just as good for learning of treasures as they were for who to work for.
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Post by Kelathi on Aug 18, 2015 20:59:26 GMT
“Agh, goddammit!”
The shattered pieces of the bottle lay on the tiles, the beads of liquor glinting like tears. The fast expanding pool of alcohol stared up at him accusingly, weeping into the cracks. He had turned, reaching for the neck of the bottle, only to knock the object to the floor with the back of his hand. Now he stood, looking down at it despondently, before turning away and stumbling towards the fridge. But upon discovering that there were no replacements, a steady stream of curses erupted from his mouth, and he stumbled instead towards the door, pulling his coat off its hanger. It only took three attempts. Unfortunately, he had left the door of the fridge hanging ajar; which will be a nice surprise when he got home. If you can call it that. A small room that encompassed both the kitchen and the living room, the door to his tiny bedroom was also ajar, and bathroom consisted of a single toilet that was tucked away at the back of the building. One toilet for the whole floor of twenty people. Well, that was what living at the bottom gave you, and one of the many reasons that he spent most of his time outside of the block of flats…
He was nowhere near the stage of drunkenness that he wanted to be, he had only just reach the pleasurable haze of disregard, where the world no longer mattered, and he had only once had a mini rant to himself about the father he hated. Now the lack of alcohol threatened a steep decline into the depressive stage that came after a night of heavy drinking, and not the passing out that occurred after just a bit more alcohol (the ending he preferred). So it was sit around and become depressed as the alcohol hit back it’s revenge… or go out and buy enough alcohol to help him pass out in a happy haze of drunkenness.
He had chosen the latter.
Moments later, a thin spatter of rain now accompanied the mist, beating down on him from a soon to be tumultuous sky. In the belly of the city, it wasn’t a good idea to wander about the streets alone at this time. But Nathanial never considered himself as alone, and besides, he was much too far-gone to think logically at this point. Drawing his coat further around himself in a failing attempt to block out the rain, he stepped into the brightly lit high-street.
And was barreled to the ground.
They both went flying.
It took his addled brain a moment to realize what had happened.
The individual was a woman. At the impact, she too had been knocked to the ground, and when she looked up. Her eyes were flashing with fear.
He could hear footsteps.
He pulled himself up, and was about to offer a hand to the woman, when with a shriek; she was grabbed from behind and hoisted up, legs kicking. “This doesn’t concern you!” a rough hand grabbed the neck of Nathanial’s shirt, but before the man could throw him back down to the curb, Nathanial had instinctively grabbed the man’s wrists. Suddenly, he seemed completely sober. “Actually, it does.” The next few moments were a blur.
Nathanial had never been much of a fighter, despite the practice he had had in his lifetime. He just didn’t have the originality of thought to process the best moments to strike, and more often than not came out looking bloodier than his assailant. No, what Nathanial was good at was taking the hits. He had been beaten to the curb so many times that it did not scare him. He was not afraid of breaking a bone or being bruised. It was this lack of fear that normally won his fights, because he was the perfect punching bag, silent and un-protesting… and that scared people. It stopped the fun of the fight when your victim is not afraid of you, no matter how many punches you throw. It was even scarier when their victim managed a laugh, or a smile, as if the whole event was a joke to him. Nathanial just didn’t give a crap, and more often than not, he found humour in the most unlikely of situations.
This was not one of these times.
It was as if he had no control of his body, a strange feeling indeed. But the next moment, all five men were on the ground, moaning into the gutter, and most of the blood on his jacket was not his own. He stood for a moment, shocked… before punching the air. “Yes! Yes! What the hell was that? That was AWESOME.” He turned round, beaming… and realized the girl was still there. She was staring up at him in awe, the fear gone from her eyes. “You… you saved me.” Nathanial just grinned. “I did, didn’t I?” She smiled too. “That was epic. Thank you.” He helped her up, and then she kissed him.
***
Today, he was in a much better state. For one thing, he was not piss-ass drunk… yet. But with nothing else to fill his day, it was likely to become his next focus. He had dry paint on his fingers, remnants of his last activity, but right now he had whacked out the art pencils, and was indulging in his imagination for his inspiration.
“Yup, now do that swirly thing.” He appeared to be talking to himself. Meanwhile, all that could be heard was the scratching of his pencil on paper. He glanced up at the wall before him, and frowned. “No, I mean the.. you know.” He motioned with his hand. “When you spin your hand and… yeah, that smoky swirly thing.” He continued to sketch, his hand working furiously as he tried to capture the image with the lines. “What? Oh, I’m going to smudge it, like this…” he demonstrated. “See? Because you don’t have lines, really. It’s more like smoke.” After a pause, he smiled again. “I know, exactly.”
This only took a small chunk out of his day. Soon enough, he was bored again. He was slouched in his chair, legs crossed on is desk. After a few moments of silence and staring into space, he spoke up. “I’m going to start drinking.” He announced. His silent companion did not seem to agree with him, because next, Nathanial threw up his arms in defeat. “Well what else is there to do?” he exclaimed. Then he narrowed his eyes, swinging his feet off his desk, and standing up, running a hand through his long unkempt, dark green hair. “Now you’re starting to sound like my father. I don’t need a job, I have money pouring out of my ears, look!” at this, he drew a wad of screwed up notes from his pocket, casting them into the air with a flourish. He walked to the door, reaching for his jacket. “Yes, I know, ‘there’s no point in having money if you do nothing with it.’ But I’ve got nothing to do with it apart from spend on booze and the occasional pizza. Charity? Do you know how little of the money donated actually goes to the people in need?” and this argument with himself continued as he stepped outside.
***
It was a chilly autumnal day.
“Perfect day for a drink!” Nathanial chimed, almost skipping to the convenience store. But on the way, something seemed to catch his attention. “What? Wh….” But then his eyes fell on the limousine, and he watched it pass. After a pause, he began to walk quicker. “Yep! That’s one of his. Where’s the old codger going now?” the limo turned round the corner, and Nathanial spoke again, so trained to the funny looks he did not even notice them. “Keep an eye on that limo! I want to know where he’s going.”
A few blocks away, he had his answer. Outside the lavish hotel, the grey limo was just pulling away, and he had arrived just in time to glimpse the gentleman’s back as he disappeared through the doors. “Hm. So he’s going to a social event of some kind, and he hasn’t invited me?” he feigned offence. Another pause. “But I’m hardly dressed for such a grand event... You know what? You’re absolutely correct. But… how do we get in? The doorman does not like me much.” Another pause, and he looked towards the alleyway next to the hotel. A small smile slipped onto his lips. “Genius. The front entrance has always been overrated, anyway.”
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Aug 18, 2015 22:24:34 GMT
“Miss Woods, delighted to have you join us today!” Dani’s smile was flawless as she greeted the man, a supervisor in one of her earliest positions when she first came to the city. “Mr. Dalton, what a pleasure it is to see you again,” she replied, the man beaming as he turned to greet a colleague who had also just arrived. This type of honey-sweet interaction continued as she greeted old acquaintances and new prospects, leaving everyone charmed. Dani’s smile barely hid the satisfaction of knowing how good her acting was. Some of these people were so pretentious, it was hard to take them seriously.
“Ah, Miss Woods,” said a familiar voice, and Dani turned to smile at Armstrong, her last employer. “How do you do, Mr. Armstrong,” she replied, smiling a little more warmly at him as he responded well to such smiles. “I wanted to introduce you to an old friend of mine. Quinn, this is Danielle Woods.” The gentleman turned with a smile, holding out a hand that Dani took. “Mr. Quinn, it’s a pleasure,” she said, knowing a possible employer when she saw one. It wasn’t hard to sense that he, like the others, had a positive appraisal of her, but she was quick to offer a little extra to the smile. Mr. Quinn was considering having her along to a dinner at some point, and she liked the places men like Quinn and Armstrong went to eat.
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Post by Kelathi on Oct 4, 2015 0:54:32 GMT
Nathanial liked to think of himself as an expert in scaling buildings. The truth was, he’d be a terrible cat burglar, as he was so clumsy. It was a miracle he made it up with all limbs still intact. Albeit with a tumble when he climbed through the window… He jumped up, brushed himself off, and took a look around. A small smile slipped onto his lips. “Well then, this is all very sophisticated.” The statement was accompanied with a gleeful laugh. Then he clapped his hands. “All right! This is just perfect. Strange that we weren’t on the invite list though, don’t you think?” His silent, invisible companion remained so. “Well then, no-one's crashing a party standing around. Lets go!” He began to walk down the corridor with the air of someone who knew exactly where they were going, and a confidence that suggested that despite his attire, he belonged here. “Follow the gentle trill of the elegant music…”
The music was a delicate being indeed, gently strummed from the strings of a harp. There were other band members too, but for now they sat quietly, patiently waiting for their turn. It was all so deliciously…. Pretentious. Nathanial could write a list of the evening’s song list. He’d bet money on it. It was a beautiful building, of course, to further encourage the already obvious snootiness of the occupants and make them feel important. How exactly, should he crash said party? As soon as anyone saw him, he was sure to be escorted off the property, he wasn’t exactly in dinner jacket and white tie. He needed something… discreet to begin with, to build up the tension and then control the explosion at the right moment, for maximum impact.
Aha!
He was quite proud of this idea.
It was fun; quirky, and probably wont get him chucked out straight away. Probably.
And so it was, that just as Mr. Armstrong was conversing with what Nathanial had to admit was a rather beautiful woman, obviously snooty like the rest of them, but still undeniably beautiful... There was a tapping on the microphone. And then, to Mr. Armstrong, at least, a very familiar voice chimed out. “Hello everyone! Attention, attention.” The murmur of the crowd declined, and people turned to look upon the laxly dressed, green-haired individual who now demanded their attention. “Thank you kindly.” He said with a grin. He was purposely avoiding the eyes of his chosen victim of this well-orchestrated (excuse the pun!) attack. “Now, I’d like to bring you out from the 1920s, and forward into the glorious year of… 1935!” A chuckle ran amongst the crowd, but it was a very small percentage. Several infuriated-looking individuals were eyeballing him.
Without being discouraged, and with a grin, he swept his hand towards his newly claimed entourage, all of whom were also smiling. Evidently if not the crowd, he had charmed the musicians. “Gentlemen! If you please.” The music started. It was very slow, a mournful trill of a single note on the violin. But then, suddenly in a turn of events, the saxophone player stood up, and chucked the instrument towards Nathanial, who caught it smartly and then… Music erupted. A lively beat filled the air, and it was Swing, to be exact, punctuated by Nathanial’s sax skills. Of which, perhaps surprisingly so, were not too shabby. Only the harp player sat looking dejected.
The guests did not know what to do. This is not what they had expected. Some people started to sway, slowly being encouraged, small smiles on their faces. It began to pick up, gradually. People began to laugh. A gentleman nearby twirled a lady. Normally the band was simply in the background, a faded, robotic moving image. Normally the music was not truly listened too.
Now, they had no choice.
And Mr. Armstrong was furious.
He knew people would be asking questions. He could hear them now, excited voices murmuring. Who is that young man? A special guest? Soon they would be asking him directly. He ignored the appraising glances in his direction. No, he only had eyes for the miscreant of a son. He suddenly realized he was neglecting his present company. He seemed to snap from his concentration then, turning his attention back to the young woman. “I’m sorry… where was I?” but his face was all angles and harsh lines, evidently angry with the events, but trying to push his emotions away for the sake of his company.
((Le inspiration! : www.youtube.com/watch?v=OwWT43Eb3IM ))
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Oct 4, 2015 3:42:34 GMT
The art of flirting was one Dani was proud to have mastered; it didn’t take long before the two men were eating out of her hand, charmed and interested. Of course interested; this was how they could be manipulated, teased into high evaluations of her with all the rewards that indicated. She was among the late individuals to notice that the background music had been paused, turning to see… the most intense green she had ever seen in hair. A few moments of study indicated there was actually a person beneath the mane, dressed most comfortably given his attitude. Instead of focusing on the young man, however, Dani reached out her senses; the two men were distracted, one infuriated, explaining the reaction she needed to take.
Despite loving to swing dance, despite enjoying the surprising talent, Dani did not give in to the temptation to sway, to tap her toe in time. Armstrong had a much stronger personality than Quinn, so he would guide Quinn’s response as the man was perplexed and uneasy. She could almost feel the physical shake of anger from Armstrong, but didn’t exactly see his gaze returning to her. Instead, she let her gaze linger on the green-haired performer as she made her study of the two gentlemen with her. With a perfectly timed sigh and roll of her eyes, she turned back to Armstrong and let the look of disgust fade as she took him in again.
“You were just telling Mr. Quinn and I about your amazing plans for the new memorial park,” she reminded him, flipping her hair over her shoulder. It was decidedly a brush-off to the young man, establishing Armstrong as the dominant figure in the room. These were the rules established by society; playing by them had earned her great rewards already. That, and she was still hoping to get Armstrong to talk about his security system before his grand trip in a month…
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Post by Kelathi on Jan 18, 2016 1:00:31 GMT
"Of course, forgive me…” He turned to face his companions again, but he had to raise his voice now to continue a conversation. As a result, his grim countenance did not change. Quinn had finally figured out the reaction he should take, and was busy looking disapprovingly towards the lively, green-haired individual whom had commandeered the music, and in doing so, momentarily held the attention of most of the room.
So far… so good. He had not been thrown out yet. He glanced towards the well-dressed men at the door, the security he had managed to slip past by merging in with a crowd of bustling people. How he had managed to get away with that with his obviously non-formal hair was anybody’s guess, including his own… but he was here, he had yet to be chucked out… in fact, one of the security guards appeared to be subconsciously tapping his foot. Everyone just assumed Nathanial was meant to be here. Well, almost everyone, there were a few sour faces… but their judging gazes did not dissuade his next move. It was time to raise the stakes.
He abruptly tore his lips away from the instrument, chucking it back to the original sax player, and let him take over. Then, before anyone knew what was happening he had slipped off the stage, and in one fluid movement, grabbed the hand of the first woman whom had twirled at the beginning of his performance. Surprised, she spun round, and he took her hand, leaning over and kissing the back of it respectfully, a cheeky glint in his eye as he silently asked for her permission to dance. The lovely woman was flattered, so when he stood back up she gave him a small, barely perceptible nod, allowing him to place a hand on her waist, the other hand grasping hers gently. His dance skills were nowhere near as polished as his musical skills, but there was a certain charm in his imperfection as he spun with her, and they fell into a lively dance, swinging round in time to the music, kicking their legs out. At one point, he pulled her towards him, lifting her up and spinning her round, and she laughed out loud, unable to stop herself.
Mr Armstrong, meanwhile, was almost staring pointedly at Dani in his attempt not to let his eyes stray. Quinn was shaking his head angrily, apparently watching the display for him. “Absolutely disgusting display of public indecency.” He announced disapprovingly. Mr Armstrong’s jaw clenched, and something seemed to snap within him, because that was it, that was all he could take. “Excuse me.” He stated quietly, turning away from his present company. Quinn hardly seemed to notice, his eyes ironically fixed on the so-called ‘disgusting display’.
Armstrong pushed gently through the throng of people, smiling when he needed to, and strode to the guards, whom straightened when they saw him approach. Meanwhile, Nathanial had noticed, and every now and again his eyes would stray to them. Finally, the old man had cracked. The guards nodded their heads, and then began to head towards him. Nate had to think quickly, escape now, or stay and make a scene? Well, he’d see how it played out. He wanted to spend as much time out here as possible. He danced his partner to the stage, and lifted her up. Climbing up himself, they continued their dance at a higher level, framed by the band whom were still going at it.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Mar 15, 2016 18:44:00 GMT
For once, listening to someone talk and think the same words helped because of noise. Dani tried to just focus on the conversation, which became even more difficult when the green-haired man began spinning guests. She grit her teeth for real as she kept smiling at Armstrong, her expression faltering for only a fraction of a second when he excused himself.
This idiot was interfering now. He was keeping Armstrong from talking about his wealth and goods, which meant she was getting nothing useful out of him beyond a job recommendation. Her gaze flitted over to Armstrong with the guards, feeling their response to being told to throw the green man out. Her eyes narrowed with concentration as she pulled on the thread of “he doesn’t belong here” that was inspired in the minds of the guards, which soon set off a domino effect that Dani performed with ease.
“Doesn’t belong” became "why is he here," which turned quickly into “how did he get in,” and from there straight to “he’s making fools of us.” This steeled their determination, even as the culprit went back up on stage. Nothing was going to get in their way of getting him out of there. Dani’s work was done.
Now for the band. The harpist, having supposed to been the main spotlight, began to look more and more irritated as the music went on. Finally, she stood up to leave, prepared to report the others for indulging in unscheduled changes in program. The harpist’s departure got a few others curious, doubt growing in their minds as the guards came up. Dani didn’t dissuade any of them playing, however, because she didn't want the green man to catch on. The smug little smile sneaked into her usual mask of calm as she watched out her little suggestions would play out. “Mr. Quinn, would you care to take a seat?” Dani suggested with a rare, genuine smile that encompassed her satisfaction. “I believe the situation will be resolved shortly.”
And she’d have a front-row seat.
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Post by Kelathi on Mar 17, 2016 23:31:30 GMT
Things moved quickly. Nathanial sensed the crowd turning in a way that only a crowd-pleaser could. But instead of rising to the challenge, he gave the woman (who now seemed to be the only smiling individual in the room) one last twirl, then took a deep bow. He swept back up with a charming grin, seemingly unhampered by the steadily growing mass of disapproving faces staring up at him. He was a little disappointed his play-time was to be cut so short, but he counted it as a success nonetheless. He had actually had people dancing! The way they were reacting now was what he had expected from the first moment he had stepped in. He was surprised the plan he had created on the fly had even worked… But now it was time to be real, and do what he had come here to do.
“Thank you, thank you!” He called, as the music died down, the musicians looking around warily, and now also looking a little guilty. He grabbed a microphone from its stand, throwing it into his other hand with charismatic ease. As the woman stepped down graciously from the platform, he addressed the audience with a sweep of his arm. “I’d like to thank you all for being such a terrific crowd!” He twirled the wire of the mic in his other hand casually as he spoke, as if speaking on a phone and not to a sea of angry faces. “And also a thank you to my beautiful dance partner.” He motioned towards the woman, whom, upon re-entering the crowd, had finally become aware of the general mood of the place, and was looking rather perplexed. “But mostly, to the host of the evening, without whom this event would not have been possible.”
Armstrong visibly paled, and he paused.
Nathanial met his gaze. He placed one hand on his heart in mock respect, and then motioned towards his father. “My dearest…” and then his speech was cut short, as the guards finally reached the stand, taking the mic forcibly from his hand and clamping an arm of his in each of their steel-like grips. Nathaniel was perhaps surprisingly compliant and went without struggle, although he was irritated that the mic happened to have been snatched before he had been able to utter that all important word… father…
Amidst gasps and a murmuration of whispers and stolen glances, Armstrong strode out the door and after the little entourage.
*
“What in hell do you think you are doing, boy?”
The question tore from Armstrong’s lips as Nathanial was unceremoniously propelled out of the building, causing him to do a little skip as he tried to remain balanced, and avoid toppling into the road. “Thanks guys.” He merely replied to the guards, turning and saluting them with a smile. They looked towards Armstrong then, clearly silently requesting whether he wanted them to drive the troublemaker further away, but Armstrong merely shook his head, steely eyes fixed on his son. The guards left. Nathanial clasped his palms together in mock prayer. “Oh, thank you, kind sir, for sparing me…”
“Nathanial!” It was more of a bark than anything. Nathanial’s hands dropped, and the annoyance finally surfaced, replacing the mocking, easy grin for a moment. His father continued. “What are you doing here? Why do you feel the need to do this?” Nathanial almost laughed, and he raised a hand to his heart. “Me? You are asking me? Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’m sick and tired of being treated like the bastard child. Maybe every now and then I feel the need to ‘crawl out of the woodwork’ so you don’t forget who I am. Or maybe...” he lifted his hands up as if in defeat. "Maybe I just find it fun. Maybe I enjoy our little chats." he allowed the sarcasm to drip heavily from his words.
Armstrong pinched the bridge of his nose as he fought to remain calm. Then after a pause, he began to dig in his pocket. He fished out his wallet. Nathanial was speechless… but only for a second. “Are you… wait, seriously? You’re going to try and pay me to go away?” Armstrong was not a man who came up against people who refused money. Everyone had a price, he just had to find out what it was. “How much is it going to take, Nathaniel?" he snarled. "You need a new guitar to pawn? A new car to destroy? Tell me and it’s done.” He fished a handful of bills from his wallet, and offered them to his son.
Nathanial stared at them for a long moment. Then he stepped forward, and took the bills. Before Armstrong could do anything, he swept his arm, setting them free to be swept away into traffic. Armstrong near exploded. “My god boy, what is wrong with you? What do you want from me?” He shouted, grabbing Nathanial by his shoulders in a fit of passion, shaking him. Nathaniel tore himself away, backing away a few steps. He was about to say something, to raise his voice as his father had... but appeared to think better of it, swallowing the words. Instead, his next sentence was quiet and accusing. "Evidently, something you can't give." he uttered.
Then he turned away, and began to walk, leaving his stricken father staring after him incredulously. Armstrong’s voice swept after him.
“Is that it? You are just going to walk away? What the hell do you want from me?”
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Apr 2, 2016 19:21:19 GMT
(check messages first Kelathi :) )
Quinn was glad of the distraction Dani provided, sitting down and giving him something to look at other than his awkward hands. Dani, meanwhile, had settled down quite happily in the chair offered by the genteel man, crossing one leg over the other as she listened to the green man’s closing speech while watching the guards approaching him. “Host of the evening?” In the middle of the day? My my, what a comedian, she thought with the lingering satisfaction of getting him thrown out. There was, however, a moment’s curiosity just before the green man was seized, sensing that there had been an unspoken word. A personal connection? Little wonder Armstrong responded so strongly to the interference, then. He followed the guards and green man out, but after annoying her she couldn’t bring herself to ignore her present company.
At first focusing on the scene, Quinn quickly cleared his throat to return to something more pleasant, namely a new secretary. Dani recreated her perfect mask as she felt the man’s attention shift, turning with the perfect response. “So, Miss Woods… Armstrong has told me before of your excellent services in his company,” he began, even as he thought of stories of alluring dinners shared over company drinks. “It has been a privilege to work with Mr. Armstrong,” Dani began, shifting her shoulders just right for her hair to slide invitingly down about her neck. “He has been gracious enough to introduce me to the most impressive people.” Quinn, now fully focused on the woman before him, straightened a little at the implication, as if on cue.
---
Leaving the restaurant, Dani was nearly slapped in the face by a bill that had been teased in the wind, although why it was in the air in the first place she couldn’t fathom. Despite her mannerisms, despite having just gotten another high-paying, high-roller offer of a job and lush dinner the following night, she had grown up in a world where every penny counted, and it was habit that had her snagging the bill before questioning its existence. Hearing voices nearby, angry ones, she felt out in the direction, a little surprised to sense the renewed waves of anger from Armstrong. Hadn’t the problem been dealt with? Further investigation made it clear there was more than she had originally assumed, which quickly had its own cascade effect on her, turning her focus on the job and learning codes into a sense of guilt. Being self-centered was necessary for survival, but too much was too much like him.
Pocketing the money to free her hand, Dani began to walk herself, along the sidewalk towards the side of the building. There she saw the green man – well… green-haired man – walking away. To avoid being seen by Armstrong, she tipped the balance in favor of his wanting to simply storm off, too frustrated to deal with his wayward son. Reputation safe, Dani hurried a bit to be close behind, finally voicing her presence.
“You don’t look like the type who can play saxophone like that. You were very good.”
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Post by Kelathi on Apr 3, 2016 14:48:45 GMT
Perhaps it was because her words had invaded so unexpectedly, that he had missed the tone, the very fabric of her evidently female voice. So wound up in his own thoughts with his father at the forefront of this turmoil, he had thought for a moment that it was him who had followed. Therefore, he had registered what was said, but not the actual voice that had accompanied it… and so after a brief pause, he turned to face him, anger clear on his face as he began to deliver a biting remark. “Oh, because you would know…” he paused as his eyes fell on the woman, surprise replacing the anger. But it was smoothed over quickly as a charming grin replaced the bitter look, and he lifted a hand to run through his hair, a motion spurred by embarrassment at his accusatory outburst.
“I’m sorry, I thought… never mind.” He recovered quickly, however, seconds later returning to his confident self. “’Type’ is a misleading concept, I find. For example, you don’t look like the ‘type’ to turn your nose up at a dance, and yet…” Despite his words, there was a playful glint in his eye that revealed that he was merely teasing, and not actually intending to cause offence. Evidently, he recognized her from the congregation, and had pointedly noticed that she had been one of the few individuals not to be swayed by him. It made him curious as to why she was choosing to speak to him now. “And thank you.” He added.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Apr 12, 2016 0:53:15 GMT
It didn’t take being telepathic to realize the mistake that must have occurred. Dani managed to look completely unaffected, but to say that she truly was would be stretching the truth, simply blinking while waiting for clarification. His words were said as he felt them, Dani’s smile growing a touch. Would know what, she wanted to prompt; it would only take him to let the words race across his mind for her to hear. But she already had invaded too much privacy that day, with the most unfortunate lack of anything fun to learn as balance.
Pursing her lips to only slightly disguise her bemused smile, she raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms at his tease. “I might also not look like the type who was trying to impress a stuffy employer,” she replied in a similar vein, managing to sound teasing rather than angered. It had surprised her, perhaps pleasantly, that she had been noticed. Vanity had the ability to be a virtue rather than strictly a vice, she had learned, and so she never shied from even the fakest compliment.
“Perhaps you could look into such playing in a more… appropriate venue,” she continued, clarifying with a honest, “Somewhere where such talents could be genuinely appreciated.”
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Post by Kelathi on Nov 2, 2016 15:14:30 GMT
((I’m thinking maybe the first time she tries to read his mind is where he’s in costume? And either she can’t because Jojo senses what she’s doing and blocks it off, or she can but can’t read anything about Jojo, because he senses the intrusion? Whaddya think?)) He enjoyed this game they were playing immensely. Here was a beautiful woman, a woman whose wit was only rivaled by her willingness to partake in easy conversation. The fact that it was with one whom many might consider as being of lower class than her only improved his already favourable opinion of her. To say he was smitten from that moment would be rather an accurate description of his feelings at this point... Infatuation can be a dangerous thing, and it comes all too easily for some. Nate was an individual whom often found himself in this position, only his intense emotions were normally based on things other than people, such as his passion for art and music. Many a time had he purchased an instrument just because he had fallen in love with the idea of it, regardless of whether he could actually play it or not.
But infatuation for a person? This was new to him…. And he liked the feeling it gave him. His life revolved very much so around shenanigans involving his father, through embarrassing him and trying to get him to acknowledge his illegitimate son. Other than the occasional freelance commission, his life consisted of little purpose indeed, and as a result, of even smaller opportunity to meet agreeable women. If it wasn't for Jojo, he would lead quite a boring life indeed... “Ah, you see that sounds like a good idea in theory, but then where’s the fun in that?” He countered, with a mischievous glint in his eye. At that moment, he happened to glance behind her, just in time to see that one of the bouncers was back, and was steadily making his way towards them grimly, his dark eyes fixed on Nate. Evidently, the green-haired individual was still too close to the complex than the toffs were comfortable with… He began to back away, whilst still retaining his playful grin, his heart feather-light, even if he was disappointed of the fact that he needed to end the conversation so soon. He returned his gaze to her, a sense of urgency in his voice. “I have to go. But, before I do, may I have your name?”
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Nov 2, 2016 18:26:08 GMT
(Oooh yes! Um which version… XD I kinda like that Jojo is protected, since Dani would be able to tell if she couldn’t read Nate at ALL… it would make her less suspicious )
His reaction to her prompt earned a suddenly knowing smile. It was genuine, a silent laugh that was recognizable. “Well, that explains a few things,” she teased, even as she looked over her shoulder at the man coming up. It was more to mimic the man than to actually see, having noticed the shift in attention. As he backed away, asking for a name, Dani schooled her expression a little, and fished in her purse for a moment. Pulling out a piece of paper, she scribbled something on it quickly, moving to walk past him while pushing the paper into his hands.
“Asking a lady her name in such a rush is rude. Ask me when you won’t get interrupted,” she said with a more sophisticated, less tolerant tone, yet as she walked away the flirty smirk returned. The paper, once studied, revealed a series of numbers in a specific sequence.
He had made a good impression on her, too.
---
It was night again. Time to have some real fun.
There wasn’t any particular target tonight, just a chance to see what presented itself on a silver platter. It was quite possible in the more active city areas, the midnight hour calling out the darker side of mankind in so many ways. Gangs, burglars, criminal masterminds… even the would-be heroes would stalk the brightly and dimly lit streets.
Besides… she had finally gotten her manicured hands on that new grappling hook that had taken her a month of negotiations with that stubborn dealer, and she was dying to try it out.
As she finished off a long swing from one skyscraper to another, she managed to twist into a few 360 flips before landing, flicking her wrist to detach and recoil the new hook, unable to help the bubbly, breathless giggle. “Oh, you are such a treat!” she cooed to her new gadget, managing to restrain her holler of delight as she launched herself, the hook streaking out and catching on the nearby office building that she swung up to with another dramatic landing, slipping the hook back into place on her belt before looking out over her new vantage point. The city lights glimmered in the darkness of night, the soft backdrop of car engines spotted with the occasional horn and drag race.
Trace began to hum to herself, waiting for something more exciting to happen. Her new grappling hook was a marvel, a true treasure, and she wanted to do more than just test it out on a few buildings. Oh, how cocky she felt! She was even wondering if she could come across some heroic figure like the Ascension, an arrogant prick who was the dark, sage, self-appointed guardian of the city. He’d only been on the television a few times, mostly known by word of mouth… but the idea of messing with such a straight-laced figure sounded like so. Much.
Fun.
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Post by Kelathi on Nov 28, 2016 22:20:48 GMT
(I agree! So lets do- she can read Nate's mind, but there's no sign of Jojo )
This is a bad idea.
Nate sighed, taking the moment to adjust his mask, before resuming to beam his heroic smile. "I think you mean, a great idea!" He announced optimistically, finger in the air to illustrate his point, much like a cartoon character at the moment of a great revelation. If the entity that is Jojo had the ability to roll his eyes... That would have been the moment.
The creature, his body no more than an undefinable purple cloud at the moment, apart from his mask-like face- rippled away from his side to hover over the edge of the building. He looked down. Nate, sensing his companions wariness, stepped closer to the edge, and looked down too. It was a long way.
He coughed nervously, then took a few paces back, determined not to let the possibility of a short and sudden (and most likely lethal) drop, dampen his optimism. "It's going to be fine!" He announced with more enthusiasm than he felt. "Listen... All superheroes have a way of navigating the skies. It's a quicker way to travel, plus... it looks so cool!" That last statement was said with excitable glee, and had been accompanied with a he clap of his hands, like ab excitable child. Jojo merely set his emotionless gaze back on his human, which caused Nate to cough self-consciously, straightening up. "Come on, it'll be fun! All you have to do is catch me. You already know you can do it, you did it back when you helped me fight!"
Still... The creature doubted.
Since that night, they had made great improvements, that was true. Nate had begun to seriously work on being more than just a man in a mask. He had taken lessons in self-defence and had begun to build up his muscles, surprisingly sticking to a rather strict routine of exercise for longer than Jojo had expected. His dedication was finally beginning to pay off. At first, it had been rather hilarious to Jojo, watching his little human dance around another, only to be floored when he tried to grapple with his opponent- it seemed he had no innate fighting skill whatsoever. The only thing he had going for him was the fact that he could take the hits... And still come up smiling every time. It was as if he treated it all like a game. A bloodied nose was just another reason to try again, and he did so with an optimistic grin, which only made his opponents more infuriated, and more determined to floor him faster...
This initial annoyance did not last long, for It was difficult to hate such a happy-go-lucky person for long, and eventually they had warmed up to him. Dislike turned into grudging respect, then mutuality, before finally, a close friendship. By the end of the sessions now, there was laughter... And bloody noses on both sides.
Jojo believed he would never quite understand humans.
He had also never seen his human so determined to do something. Usually, when he got one of his bright ideas, the musing left him after a while and he burnt out quickly. This time was different, he could feel it. Nate had never had more conviction in his life. He had even used his artistry to create a costume, and had made his own wig, which had an oily-like quality to it, so that it reflected the lights of the city awesomely, appearing different hues and throwing off anyone whom recognised him primarily from his green hair.
But now, the human had it in his head that he needed to learn parkour. And not just that, but he needed to be able to scale from one building to another, specifically, this building... A jump that would be impossible for a person... Well, a person without Jojo's help, his human would argue.
But the creature did not have half as much confidence in himself as Nate did. He had managed to influence his human, that was true, in a time of need, guiding his punches and pushing him over to avoid incoming hits. But most of the time he drifted through Nate's world as nothing more than a shadow, and his interaction with material things had always been minimal at best. Honestly, he was simply not sure if he would be able to lift Nate and carry him safely across the gap. He'd rather they practice for a while in less precarious locations... But sometimes, there was no talking to his human once he got an idea into his head.
At least he had chosen the top of a third story building, and not the top of a skyscraper to test this. That was a small consolation...
"Ready?" Nate asked, adjusting his mask for the fifth time since setting foot atop this building. He was fidgety. The measurements were all correct for every piece of clothing, but he felt self-conscious in the almost skin-tight suit... It was ideal, of course. He had freedom to move and twist and turn during combat, the clothing was lightweight yet also had thermoregulatory aspects which meant he could withstand even winter temperatures, but would also be kept cool in warmer weathers. And in a city characterised by masked vigilantes, superheroes and super villains... he sure as hell looked the part.
But still... He would not truly 'feel' the part till he had ticked off all the boxes in his mind, of what, to him at least, made a superhero. And today, he would tick off jumping across buildings.
Jojo didn't answer. He was still hoping against hope, and against everything he had learned so far... That his human was not stupid enough to do this after all...
Nate readied himself. "Right! Countdown time... 3...2..." A slight pause for effect... "1!" And with that, he sprinted towards the gap at full speed before he could lose his nerve, the ledge racing towards him, adrenalin spurring him on as he performed his leap of faith...
And after a heart-stopping moment where the ground gave way and he felt nothing to break his fall... he felt the resistance in the air as Jojo wrapped himself around him, propelling him upwards a little before shooting him towards the other building...
And then halfway across the gap, he felt that resistance disappear, and he slipped through, and his stomach felt like it plummeted out through his ass as he began hurtling down towards the ground...
"C R A A a a a p!"
Crash!
Jojo was sure for a moment his human must be dead.
From the moment he had felt his grip slip, he had hurtled down after the falling figure, and at the last moment, swooped beneath him, buffeting himself against Nate to reduce the impact. The human had crashed into a skip full of rubbish, and there had been a horrifying pause characterised by silence and heavy dread...
Until Nate sighed, exhaling loudly, opening his eyes to gaze up at the star-pitted sky... Until Jojo blocked his vision, looking down at him with concern on his usually emotionless mask of a face.
"I'm... Fine..." Nate gasped, fighting for each of the words. He attempted a smile that was only slightly pained, and concentrated on trying to resist the urge to expel his dinner. In truth, apart from a few bumps and bruises, and against all odds... He was largely okay. He laced his fingers together on his stomach, taking the moment to try and settle his breathing and work through the shock. If the world could stop spinning, that would be great, too.
He realised now that the fall should have killed him. Jojo had not been able to hold onto him, but that last buffet at the end had saved him from an untimely death.
Slowly, still dazed, Nate pushed himself up into a sitting position. And then, strangely enough... he started to laugh. "Well.. That was a failure." He noted.
An understatement. Nate could sense the reproach in the voice. "Well, not a complete failure, I am still alive, that's a bonus!" But for once, his attempt to lighten the mood was not received well, and he saw Jojo begin to dissipate... A sure sign that the creature was upset. "Oh, come on man! I'm sorry, we'll attempt something smaller next time... Jojo!" But the sulking creature had already gone.
Nate sighed, pulling himself up so that he was standing, rubbing his sore elbow. He wouldn't be gone for long, even if it was rare that he disappeared nowadays. He felt guilt gnaw at his conscience... Jojo was upset because he had almost failed to protect Nate... And that was Nate's fault, not Jojo's. He regretted putting him in that situation at all. Well, he would make it up to him. Maybe he'd put on that cartoon channel Jojo enjoyed so much?
As he mused ways he could make it up to his friend, he tried to reach for the side of the skip, only to find he could just about reach if he stretched on his tip-toes. Well, time to test that upper body strength he had been working on, he thought to himself grimly...
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Nov 30, 2016 4:08:30 GMT
(HAD to reply as soon as I read this... no way could I pause XD)
Well that wasn’t something you heard very often.
Trace tilted her head with a puzzled expression as she listened further, expecting some sort of great commotion from where the unexpected scream had come from. Despite it having echoed, she could tell it had come from not too far away. In fact, it almost sounded as thought it was from below her.
Perfect excuse.
Leaping effortlessly off her perch, she twisted just enough to launch the grappling hook up behind her, connecting and snapping tight as she was mere feet above the next rooftop. It only took the bounce at the end to release the hook, rushing back into place a split second before her feet even touched the ground. A perfect ten-point landing, for which she bowed to imaginary applause before laughing softly again. She, obviously, had had years of practice with such moves already. It was her new toy that made this time so much more fun than usual.
Using those natural and trained gymnastic skills, Trace made her way effortlessly over the few buildings towards the sound of speaking, not attempting anything beyond human capabilities in distances. Only what might seem that way to the untrained eye – any pipe, ledge, or railing became part of the path. By the time she was close enough to hear what was being said, the speaker had gone quiet.
It didn’t take long to understand why. There was a building not five feet from the container, a single level high. In the middle, there were pipes and support beams that acted like handlebars. The lower building became her new perch, after she swung out strong into a full, twisting flip over the skip to land lightly on the edge of the roof, facing the skip and its occupant with a look that could only be on the verge of laughing out loud at the stranger’s predicament.
The contrast between them was intentionally striking.
Not that she was going to feel guilty… he seemed a little bruised, maybe suffering from injured pride, but he didn’t seem too worse for the wear from wherever he had fallen. It wasn’t like he could have fallen from the roof of one of the larger buildings with so little damage. She was quick to assume that he had fallen after jumping from the building she was now standing on.
“Nice start,” she began, squatting in a ladylike fashion with her knees together, resting an elbow on her knees while her hand supported her chin, her other arm draped lazily in the opposite direction. An interesting pose, given the mixed signals her body-hugging suit and loose jacket gave. It seemed obvious what she was talking about.
At first.
“I’ve heard of breaking in a new suit, but I’m not sure that’s the way to go about it. Dirty doesn’t mean tough. It’s what’s in the package that matters… especially when it’s shaping up into a good one.”
If there could be any doubt as to what she meant by that, the lusty little swipe of her tongue across her upper lip and flirtatious study of him cleared things up right away.
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