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 Posted: Mon Jul 27, 2009 2:10 pm
• • • [ This RP is Open ] «
______________________________________________//x
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Posted: Mon Jul 27, 2009 9:07 pm
• • • [ H a r l o w . S a i n t ] « ______________________________________________//x ¤ { Location: Corner Dive Bar in Dante's Shallow } ¤ Harlow tossed back her Black Water without so much as a grimace, having taken to circling the rim of her glass with a delicate fingertip crested by an unreasonably long blood red nail. Her nails matched the ocean of tresses that fell over her narrow shoulders in waves that contrasted against the paleness of her flesh like fresh blood on snow and her features would have been considered soft looking if not for the slew of ink that covered her skin and the gem studded bars that pierced her face. The woman who sat at the bar looked to stand at a mere 5’4” on her own, closer to 5’7” with the heels of her too-shiny black leather boots being taken into account. Her body was whipcord lean and every muscle on her form was visible to the naked eye; she had the figure of a boxer made for speed over power but that didn’t make the prospect of being on the receiving end of her right hook any more appealing.
A brawl breaking out in the middle of the sleazy hole in the wall bar had caught her attention before she could request her liquid rot gut be refilled so that she might continue drowning mindlessly in her straying thoughts during her downtime. Harlow turned on her barstool to take in the sloppy bare knuckled fist fight, not one to pass up a spot of entertainment. Two towering figures had knocked back one too many drinks (and in this place just one was ‘one too many’ in most cases) and decided to take out their aggressions on each other. No defining characteristics to give away either one meant they were most likely two more faceless inhabitants of Dante’s Shallow. When the larger of the pair became victim to a barstool being broken over his back wood splinters became effective projectiles that flew in every direction and earned a groan from one of the bartenders who stood safely behind the bar polishing a mug nervously. The attractive blonde barkeep was skittish, she wouldn’t last long here.
Harlow brushed the fragments of barstool from her person indignantly before turning back around and taking to flagging down the blonde and pointing to her drink. “I’m not supposin’ you might consider puttin’ down that mug before you rub a hole in it an’ hit me again Blondie” her voice was a deep dusky purr and her lack of annunciation hinted that she was less than concerned with how others perceived her. Unusually golden eyes, the color of the sun that no long shined upon Dante’s Shallow, fixed on the tender’s who had already sheepishly set the mug down, attempting to ignore the ongoing chaos in the middle of the bar until a third party took it upon himself to butt in. “Harley, get off your a** and do something already” the relatively handsome wisp of a bar patron hissed while slamming down a ceramic jar of the same glorified toxic waste that Harlow was currently drinking. With her glass refilled a second time she plucked it from the counter with a short salute of gratitude to the girl before tossing that back as well, not acknowledging the patron.
Not more than a handful of moments later the bar’s door burst open and two grown men were thrown out onto the filthy, oil slicked street with a rough-around-the-edges redhead posting up against the door frame with her bare arms crossed over her leather corseted bust. “Go home an’ sleep it off boys” she spoke in a tone that brooked no misunderstanding and waited to see if either one wanted to try their luck a second time. On the upside her next drink would be on the house.If you see me running, try to keep up. | | «
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Posted: Mon Jul 27, 2009 10:21 pm
Freedom didn't taste as sweet as the vids would have had her believe. It was bitter and made her eyes sting and her hands shake. It hurt like a b***h. She took one last look at the towering white skyscraper, her thin white neck bending at an ugly angle. Goodbye.
They called it Black Death II. How many of them knew the horror that was the first Black Death? How many of them could really imagine it? They would laugh and chatter about their children and the latest VR while designing a disease meant for genocide. The irony was lost on them. The irony had been lost on her, even, before she'd become one of it's first victims. Her hand instinctively leapt to the underside of her wrist and she turned it over, eyeing it nervously. They'd long since given her the antidote to the damn thing, but every now and then she'd swear she could see the telltale black veins out of the corner of her eye. She had thought that once she was free the fear would stop. Obviously not.
She wasn't sure where she could go from here. Vaguely, jokingly, she told herself she could join the circus. A little laugh escaped her dried lips and she looked back and forth across the busy street. Her hair had thinned a little, her skin dried her muscle and fat deteriorated and her bones sticking out a little in thankfully hidden areas. They hadn't starved her, not really. They'd fed her enough, just barely, but it was having chemicals pumped into her once healthy body that had really done the damage. And NR72 had, of course, taken its toll. Nevertheless, with a few months of good meals she'd be back on her feet and as healthy and rounded-out as before. If she could get a meal, that is.
Gingerly, lest she exhaust her weakened body, she lifted what was left of her belongings and slid it onto her shoulder. There was hardly any point in taking it with her, it was mostly dead wait. A few schoolbooks and electronics, none of which would be any use to her any more. Ambra slid the bag around until it was in front of her and looked through it, her fingers running over the objects like talismans. She pulled out a cell phone and realized she didn't even remember how to use it. It was a cheap old thing, anyone these days with any real money had bought themselves an implant. Even those without it dug themselves into debt just a little deeper for one. She smiled a little, remembering how she used to receive snickers and amused glances when she pulled it out. Her thumb slid over the screen, leaving a thin smudged trail across the surface. Ambra lifted it level with her face and peered into the makeshift mirror, her eyes widening and face tightening when she saw her reflection. She hadn't become wrinkled, but she could pass off as thirty if she grimaced well enough. Her face was tired and drawn and thin. For the first time in her life, she desired makeup. Slowly she lowered the cell and placed it back into her bag, not even bothering to try and call any of her old acquaintances.
She knew it was useless to try and reinstate her old life. Once your identity files were disconnected, they were disconnected for good. She didn't exist and she never would again. At least, according to the programs working in every computer across the city. And everything worked by computer. Even the sky.
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Posted: Wed Jul 29, 2009 11:35 am
• • • [ N a v e r i n . “ M i s s ” . L o v e l l ] « ______________________________________________//x ¤ { Location: New Broadway in New Eden } ¤ The applause of the crowd still resounded in the prima donna’s ears but there was no soul lingering there in her presence now. Stormy grey eyes looked out over the city from her high rise loft; seeing, more than watching the ant sized residents of New Eden scurrying from one destination to the next in their seemingly perfect lives. A sigh of breath she hadn’t been aware of holding slipped past her painted cherry red lips as she reached up to absently fluff the massive pristine white fur shawl that draped over her otherwise bare shoulders. Miss was a glittering peacock with the palest alabaster flesh, swathed in layers of silk and gemstones enough to make a queen of old blush to the roots of her hair, and she was anxious. Even an imitation of a human could become unsettled, distracted, bored, though she often questioned why she should be bothered with such useless emotions. At the moment she was unaware that a reminder was well on the way.
A familiar chime pulled her from her silent discontent, ending the replaying memory of her performance of La Finta Simplice, and her voice was near-monotone apart from it’s naturally too pleasant pitch as she spoke the simple words “East window”. The entirety of the square, ten-foot by ten-foot window pane darkened and Senator Lovell was suddenly looming over her, roughly the size of a Titan due to the off-scale projection. Her mouth quirked into a parody of a smile that didn’t quite make it to her astonishing, owlishly large eyes and her voice found a new tone as to seem pleased, “Good afternoon, father, to what do I owe the pleasure?”. Miss may well have been in a sour mood but the spoiled modern day princess was not one to pass up a chance to milk daddy for a little more spending money.
The conversation went on as it did every week before. They discussed the weather, or rather; her father asked her what type of weather she would like to see. She asked for clouds and the light outside faded just a touch. They discussed her bills, the ones that she never saw and that were always paid well in advance by her parents to ensure she was not bothered with trivial matters. He sent her mother’s love and inquired about her recitals. She endured every bit of repetition.
The final words from her father had been the long awaited: “You seem displeased, darling. I am transferring ten thousand credits into your account. Go shopping”.
When the window returned once more to a crystal clear shield between Miss and the rest of New Eden she turned to gather her purse and took her leave. Forty-three floors stood between Miss and the lobby, made bearable by her private elevator and when she reached the ground floor a slew of bellhops catered to her every demand while walking her to the large double doors that spilled out onto the street. Before her gaudy pearl studded shoes could make contact with the pristine walkway she was assured that her stage gown from the evening before was already on its way back from dry cleaning. She bowed her head only just a touch to acknowledge that she had heard the boy and then continued on her way.
This was the life of Naverin Lovell.The coldest story ever told. | | «
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Posted: Wed Jul 29, 2009 1:41 pm
[Amital Rancell]__________________________________________________________//x "This is a video documentation of the first field test of experiment SB01" a man's voice came in over the small headset they had put on Amital's ear. "We shall find out today if our experiments have had the desired results on SB01 or not. We will recall it when it has completed tasks which pertain specifically to the traits we require of it. These include, enhanced strength and durability, immunity to the NR72 plague, independent thought but still capable of following orders. Lastly we hope to have removed all emotion so as to increase SB01's logical thinking power and obedience."
Pf, he's talking like I can't hear him or something. Amital, as he still knew himself despite being called 'SB01' for years, looked around the desolate land, cramped with shattered buildings and remnants of what he assumed was at some time a great metropolis. "SB01's brain waves are displaying independent thought.. now then." The scientist paused and Amital could make out faint scribbling noises on the other end of the signal. "SB01-"
"My name is Amital... I tire of you calling me by a series of letters and numbers." There was a long silence on the other end, Amital could not hear static and assumed he had cut the communication to speak with someone. A moment later he heard a small amount of static again.
"Ahem... yes well... Amital then, I'd like you to use the scanner attached to the headset we've given you to locate anyone infected with NR72. They will have a black glow within them, similar to the shape of their blood circulatory system. Other then that your strength and durability tests should solve themselves out there... as well, I'm sure as your emotional status." The man paused again, "We will be recording everything, and we believe there may be some adverse side effects to our modifications... hopefully nothing too major."
"Hm, sounds like a fun time... I'll do it." Amital walked along the streets, or what was left of them, looking form building to building not able to find much of anything. Amital picked up a clump dirt from a large crack in the ground and it crumbled in his hand. "The soil is so dry... and yet people live here?" There was no reply so Amital assumed the man had either stepped away or was preoccupied with something far more important then an experiment that twenty long years had been spent creating. They had needed him young but the effects of their 'modifications' could not be seen until around the age of twenty-two, hence him being sent out now.
"S... I mean, Amital... there is a nearby life form, I believe it is human. The scanner picked it up but it is not infected with NR72." the scientist spoke abruptly and Amital looked around. "There." his voice came through as Amital looked up at a window three stories off the ground. Not even waiting on an order Amital rushed toward the window bounding off the ground and landing in the frame of the window on the second story. "Interesting, Amital displays exceptional jumping ability for the modifications only starting to take effect." Ignoring the man Amital slipped in the window and looked for a way to move up another floor from inside.
Amital did not have a hard time, most of the building was destroyed and he found that the rubble was quite good at supporting him as he moved up. He entered the room he had seen and saw a man in a lab coat laying on the ground, bleeding to death. There was a sound of shock out of his headset as he looked over the man laying before him. "You... knew him?" there was no sound on the other end for a brief moment and then a strange noise like someone sobbing in the background.
A woman's voice came through now, "Amital, check if that man is still alive." Amital listened, putting a hand to the man's blood-caked throat he felt an extremely feint pulse.
"He has mere minutes to live... if that." there was no sound for a very long time and Amital was glad the man laying before him was not awake. "I'm leaving this place... I wish to finish my tasks so that I might leave this... living hell." Amital hopped out the window, bending his knees as though the fall had only been a couple of feet, not the actual thirty or so it really was. He straightened out and continued walking through the streets, hoping to find someone to prove he was immune to this supposed plague. I do have emotions though... when I saw that man... I felt... odd. That is what emotion is isn't it? Books and theory can describe something all they want... I don't... understand what that was.
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Posted: Wed Jul 29, 2009 3:36 pm
ѕέvέη is such a deadly numberxxxxxx xxxx✖ ₣rεya Ģirøux ✖A rock, once stagnant, flew several yards through the air after being kicked and soared through an open window. Open was a loose term, since the window was shattered, only a few jagged edges left around the frame. Freya grinned, allowing her plump lips to spread characteristically across her face and she shook her head, turning away from the decaying image before her. Then again, the rest of the view wasn’t any better, but it held some importance in her mind since a bar stood not too far away. On quiet nights, or times after performing her duties, she liked to kick back and drink with the other locals, all trying to rid their mind of the realities of their world. If only they could get into New Eden—but then again, that wasn’t much of a life either, was it?
What was left of outside lights illuminated the young face of Freya, one that was tight and hard, without worry or laugh lines etching into the flesh. She didn’t even have a freckle or beauty to speak of, let alone anything she might have gotten done to herself. It wasn’t that she liked it clean, necessarily, but it’s just how it was. The only thing she did add to her face was makeup consisting of heavy black lines around her eyes to match the jet black locks that came to a sudden stop just below her jaw. Her hair stopped above her neck in the back and got longer to curl under her chin at the front, falling in little curtains across her cheeks. She could be a**l about certain things. As she neared the establishment, she caught the sight of a couple of men straggling on the streets, both looking pretty messed up and unwilling to return. A laugh struck her face and she passed them without a word to enter the bar.
The dimmer glow inside was better than the harsher lights outside. They didn’t shine on the leather covering her body from neck to foot as much. Even though her clothes fit like a second skin, grasping onto her supple curves, it left a lot to the imagination. Her long neck peeked out of the top and straps went around her middle fingers from the arms. Even the bottom tucked into wedged boots that made her taller than most women. It was only a drawback when trying to hide. She liked to keep covered up for several reasons, the only one that she would speak of being that she liked to blend in and hide in the dark. The dark colors of the leather especially helped when tracking people in the sewers to merely get their chip, and so everyone accepted that explanation easily enough. The group inside was much better than those outside; really, it was just the sight of Harlow that lit her face up even more, and she made her way straight to her without a second thought.
“Hey, girl,” she greeted, sliding into a free stool at the bar to order herself something strong and disgusting. Being within the same circle, they were bound to know each other, and so it had happened. “Can I assume it was you who threw those miscreants out?” She grinned, nodding her head to the door. How bad could they be to stick out among the scum that crawled along the streets of the Shallow? There always had to be a hierarchy. To her pleasure, a drink was soon placed right in front of her and Freya grabbed the handle, pressing the rim to her lips. What was left of the liquid fire left colored traces on her lips, which were quickly licked away in an insignificant fashion. She had confidence, but she wasn’t a show-off with her looks or feminine wiles.
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Posted: Thu Jul 30, 2009 8:20 am
[Amital Rancell]__________________________________________________________//xAmital was growing quite weary of simply wandering the streets, "So what's left to test me on then?" The long silence broken, Amital waited about a minute before a response came in.
"Um, well... we still don't know if your immune to NR72, and we haven't been able to test you in any combat situations." Amital sighed and looked around again for anyone with a black series of veins showing up on his scanner. He saw a large black glow in a back street not too far from where he was standing right now. He jogged over to the glow and found a very drained looking man, or woman, it was impossible to really tell at this point as they were so clearly near death. "Just to make absolutely certain we'd like you to expose yourself to their blood... we could have just injected you but... well there's no telling how you might respond, and on top of that NR72 may have mutated slightly, we accounted for this and have tried to grant you FULL immunity." Amital nodded and leaned over the dying figure.
The only sign of life was the eyes that followed him slightly, " You are still alive... then... I shall free you from your pain." Acting on his own again he looked away from the person so as not to let the two scientist see what he was doing, grabbed the person's head and turned it quickly with a sickening crack. He shuddered slightly, but acted quickly to expose himself to any blood he could.
"Amital shows signs of sympathy, indicating he does have some emotion and not just logic." Amital payed the woman's voice no mind as he made sure to use the blood as best he could, even jabbing a knife the person had in their hand just deep enough to get to his own blood to try and spread it. "Good, now you should wait... about ten minutes, and we'll take it from there." Amital followed this order as well, he never felt he had to, he always chose to listen to the two scientists. Being taken at such a ripe young age Amital had grown attached to these two, like they were his parents. Because of orders from the senate however they could not treat him like they would a child. He was treated closer to a work friend most of the time, other times they did not speak to him. These were usually the times when they had to inflict something painful upon him, such as altering some of his DNA again.
Amital waited the whole ten minutes and looked down at his arm where he had pierced it and saw no blackness. He then looked down at himself entirely. He could see no black veins or arteries anywhere on his bare chest either, he had to look a little harder when checking his legs through his black pants. "Is there any particular reason why I was not given a shirt?" Amital asked as he heard the fuzz in his ear.
"Uh... well, we didn't want to give you any protective coatings so..." there was long pause and Amital laughed. "What do you find funny?" the voice seemed flustered with him.
"Well you could have at least given me a simple shirt... so what should I do now... where's a good place to test my combat skills?" Amital asked getting to his feet.
"Well there's a bar not too far from your location from what we know... but-"
"Perfect." Amital did not really enjoy killing but he did notice that where he stabbed his arm was healed only a minute after doing so, and the mark it left was gone ten seconds later. He saw a couple of men stumbling about and remembered reading something about such behavior from humans that had drank alcohol recently. One of the men slouched off on a turn but the other kept walking towards himself. Amital was sure the man was violent and simply waited in his direct path for him to arrive.
The man nearly ran into him and glared at Amital when he caught his balance. "Wh-what the hell you lookin'... at...?" he was nearly falling over and Amital nearly walked away in pity of the poor fool, until he drew a rather large knife.
"I'd put that away if I were you." Amital was serious but the man attacked him anyways. Amital grabbed his wrist and slowly squeezed harder and harder until he heard the clang of metal hitting the ground. "Now... if you'd be so kind," Amital picked the man up with a loose grip around his neck, "Point me towards the bar you left." The man squirmed about then quickly pointed towards a building a few streets away. "Well then, I think I'll bring you along... and if you keep up this squirming I may just have to toss you through the window when I get there." Amital continued walking down the street, still holding the man up with one hand as he walked towards the bar. As he grew nearer to the bar his mind began to race with plans, things like tossing the man through the door instead, or kicking the door right in, whatever it took to start a fight and finish his test.
He also considered just entering the place, he was sure someone in there would have better tech. then a knife, at least a gun of some kind, and despite the fact he had to use all of his strength to puncture his arm that little bit, he was still worried that a bullet may actually do some damage. His time for planning was partly up, he was only about two block, two long blocks, away from the place now. It doesn't matter how, as long as I get to leave this place soon.
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Posted: Sat Aug 01, 2009 2:41 pm
xxxXanthe Jenner pulled on her mini-dress, eying her snoring customer. She snatched her money off of the dresser and headed out the door, her high heels clacking on the linoleum flooring.
xxx"Oy, Jenner!" called one of the tenants of the shabby apartment complex, giving her a crooked toothless grin. His beard was scraggly and grey, his blue eyes watery and bloodshot. "Where's your mother been?" He cackled hoarsely, knowing very well where Xanthe's mother was. After she was born, her mother had fled to Eden, never to be seen again.
xxxXanthe waved quickly at the aged tenant; he was old enough to be her grandfather.
Or even great grandfather, she mused, a smirk on her face. Xanthe tossed back her dark hair and pushed open the heavy door to the outside.
Old fart.
xxxShe shivered, wishing that she had worn something conservative. An odd thought, for a hooker, but the walk home was a long one, and it could be cold on nights in Dante's Shallow. As a man ran by, Xanthe tucked her money into her bra. Another man chased the prior, wielding a bloodied baseball bat. In Dante's Shallow, you could never be too safe. In fact, Xanthe had a Glock hidden in her stylish clutch. Sure, it was old, compared to the advanced weaponry of Eden, but it worked. That's all she cared about.
xxxXanthe shrunk back, quickening her pace, as she heard a man wail in agony. With a sickening crunch and smack, he quieted.
xxxShe had noticed, lately, that the gang activity was increasing. Maybe it was that virus, or maybe things were all just going to hell.
xxxHell. That's what Barbara, a cancer-riddled hooker, always called this place. A living hell, when Eden was its own slice of paradise. An oasis in the driest dregs of hell.
xxx Xanthe muttered. "Old bat doesn't know s**t." A woman screamed loudly in the distance. "Damn cancer's going to her brain, that's what it is." Crime was common here, and Xanthe had never liked that fact.
xxxSometimes, growing up, Xanthe fancied herself to be a super hero out of the old comic books that were hidden in the whorehouse attic. She was a strong and just hero, with amazing strength and powers, yet was always as dainty and lady-like as could be. She believed, that with one crack of her magical whip, that all would be put back to normal in Dante's Shallow. Sadly, in the Shallow, this was normal. Murders and rapes were commonplace. It wasn't a nice place. Period.
xxxThen being older, Xanthe wanted to be a chip hunter. A dark avenger; an evil for the good of all. A Robin Hood, of sorts. Everyone always told her she wasn't cut out for that sort of job.
xxxSo Xanthe became a hooker. An exotic dancer. A lady of the night. She made good money. And one of these days, she would get out of this place.
xxxWith a sudden wet crack, Xanthe fell flat on her face.
xxx"What the ********> she groaned, feeling at her ankle. She winced as she touched it, twisted at an unnatural angle and covered with blood. "s**t." Dancers like Xanthe did not take sick leave. They worked, or they didn't. One imperfection, one injury, and you were out. And now, Xanthe Jenner seemed to be out of work.
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Posted: Sun Aug 02, 2009 9:25 pm
[Amital Rancell]__________________________________________________________//x"Amital, I know you can hear me and I forbid you to enter that bar!" the female scientist whom Amital had considered to be much like a mother scolded him. "And get rid of that filthy sleazeball!" Amital decided to listen to her once again and simply tossed the man casually. He ended up slamming into a car and rolling over to the other side. Whether he was playing dead, dead or knocked out cold Amital didn't know, nor did he care.
"Then I shall wander about as I please for now... I'll head back toward the city soon." Amital growled feeling something inside of him again that he could identify in the female scientist's voice as well, anger. Amital grabbed the headset off of his ear and pried it open, looking over the innards he quickly he found the transmitter and smashed it, stuffing the remainder of the headset in his pocket, in case it came in handy later.
Amital turned away from the bar, not wanting to disobey his 'mother' and headed down another street, ignoring anyone who happened to walk or run by him, he did not care for any of these people, they killed each other on a regular basis, it was not his job to stop them. They can report me a failure but I do intend to go back soon. It's just for the first time in my miserable existence I feel like... I need to be somewhere, no matter what. his thoughts were interrupted when a female's voice cursed nearby. He considered passing it by for a second then wandered over.
He was surprised to find a very young looking girl that was clearly in a more sketchy line of work sprawled out on the ground looking at her ankle which was clearly bent in a way the ankle was not meant to bend. "Damn, that's one hell of an injury... how exactly does someone end up doing that?" he tried to sound as sincere as he possibly could as it did look very painful. "Could I offer you a hand?" he reached out his right hand slightly but remembered he was in Dante's shallow where it would be less then likely someone would expect help and stopped his hand at least two feet away from her, giving her a wide open choice of him or the ground.
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Posted: Mon Aug 03, 2009 1:30 pm
xxxXanthe groaned, turning her head to look at the man who offered her help. He was handsome, with thick dark hair. When men like him approached a pretty girl, they only wanted one thing.
xxx"No thanks," Xanthe said, sitting up and brushing her minidress off. In the cold, her nipples stood out in little points through her dress. Now he probably thinks that he's turned me on. She attempted to stand, her ankle going out underneath her. She bit back a wail and frowned at the man.
xxx"I'm off my shift," Xanthe explained. "You're not getting anything from me tonight, buddy." Xanthe thought for a moment, biting her lower lip. "Unless you wanna take it forcefully, which I'd rather you didn't." Xanthe had been raped enough through her life. Men who decided that stealing a hooker's services was the same as stealing a cheap jug of wine were too common in Dante's Shallow. She doubted that rape was quite as common in Eden, if existent at all.
xxxI wonder... Xanthe stood, grabbing the man's arm for support. She hooked her dainty hand around his waist and smiled slyly up at him. Deftly pressing her breasts together with her upper arms, she gave him a nice view of her cleavage. Xanthe might have been a high price hooker, but she knew her cheap whore tricks.
xxx"Say," she said breathily, putting her free hand on his chest, "You wanna take me back to your place?" Xanthe trailed her hand from his chest down to his abs. "I could give you a," she whispered, hooking her thumb around his belt loop, "freebie. Would you like that?" Xanthe desperately hoped her attempts to seduce the handsome man were having their effect. If he's a chip hunter, and I get good with him, this could be it... She smiled up at him, trying not to grimace from the pain of standing. I could get out of this place.
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Posted: Mon Aug 03, 2009 3:20 pm
[Amital Rancell]__________________________________________________________//x"You seem to be under the delusion I want something form you... I simply offered you a hand getting somewhere where you can get that ankle of yours looked at. So..." he swept her legs out from under her by the knees, he then placed his other arm behind her back effectively putting her in his arms.
He felt a sudden twitch run through his leg as he lifted her though. He felt it again, and again before he finally realized his leg where he had placed the headset was being electrocuted. "Excuse me a second." Amital got down on one knee and put her on his raised leg like it was a chair before quickly reaching into his pocket and pulling out the headset which was now attempting to fry his hand to a crisp. He turned the ravaged piece of technology sideways and smashed the power source. He didn't want to do more damage then absolutely necessary.
"Now then," he said stuffing the thing back in his pocket, "I doubt my place would really work out well for either of us at the moment... so if there's somewhere you can get your ankle looked at point me and I'll bring you. On the note of a 'freebie'... the last thing you should be doing is trying to seduce a man while your injured, if I had wanted to I could have raped you right there and left you for dead, or even killed you myself. Lucky for you I'm not planning on it, so where can we get that ankle of yours looked at?" Amital smiled at the girl and tried to hide his hand as it was now almost completely healed. He was almost certain the scent of scorched flesh would give it away though. Why am I bothering to help this girl, it's not like I can bring her back to New Eden... if I do I'll just get in trouble, though I'm already in plenty of that... and she would need a... wait why am I thinking like this, she's just a random girl I found! Amital was completely lost as to why he felt so strongly that he must aid this injured girl.
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Posted: Mon Aug 03, 2009 5:28 pm
xxxXanthe fluttered her eyelashes and blinked. Before she knew it, she was in the dark-haired, handsome man's arms. She looked up to his eyes and found herself lost. They were dark and haunting, as if they had seen things that even the lowest scum of Dante's Shallow could never even think of. His features were strong and sharp, yet beautiful in a deadly way. Xanthe found her eyes trailing over his lips, thinking things that a decent prostitute should not think of. The man spoke, but the words were alien to Xanthe. His voice was like honey to her ears. Then he smiled, and she felt as if her heart would break. Xanthe had never felt like this about anyone. Attraction was not in her job description. Usually she hated her customers. They were rough and rude, not caring how Xanthe felt at all. But this man...this man was gentle, at least to her. And a man like that deserved her respect, through and through. Decency was not bred into the inhabitants of Dante's Shallow. They were trained to be tough, cruel, and only self-serving.
xxx"...The last thing you should be doing is trying to seduce a man while you're injured. If I had wanted to, I could have raped you right there and left you for dead, or even killed you myself. Lucky for you, I'm not planning on it, so where can we get that ankle of yours looked at?" Xanthe's heart seemed to flutter. People like this did not come from Dante's Shallow. This man had to be from Eden.
xxx"My loft," Xanthe murmured, pointing west, "is that way, on the outskirts of town. It's pretty far off. Would your place be closer?" She frowned, knowing that he would not take her home. "I don't have anywhere else to go. Us exotic dancers may stick together, but it looks like I may have an early retirement ahead of me." Xanthe gave the man a hopeless, pouty look. She didn't have to try very hard at all for that look. She felt hopeless. If this man didn't save her from Dante's Shallow, she would be royally ********>
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Posted: Mon Aug 03, 2009 8:02 pm
[Amital Rancell]__________________________________________________________//xAmital processed her home's location for a moment and easily figured out that it was at least a half hour longer trip to her home then back to Eden. "I wish I could tell you I could bring you home... but my home is incredibly dangerous for you... or anyone out here for that matter." he got up off his knee, putting the almost entirely trashed headset back in his pocket, still able to smell the feint remnants of his scorched flesh but it was healed now.
As he pulled her up off his leg and simply started carrying her once again he noticed she was staring into his eyes again, with an expression he had not seen before in his life. He hated to admit that even though he'd been shown videos, readings, data files, everything they could show him on Eden and Dante's Shallow he did not know as much about people and their emotions as he would have liked to. "If I didn't know any better... I'd say your appealing to my human nature... well unfortunately I'm not exactly... human." Amital looked around to make sure no one else heard, but maintained his calm. "To be honest not but five minutes before finding you I was about to go cause trouble in a bar and test out my combat skills for the first time in a real scenario... though... the instant I was told not to I lost all my temptation to fight. Why am I telling all of this to a random girl I just picked up off the street... it's likely that the senate will destroy me if I go back to Eden now." Amital became so flustered with what he was doing that he began speaking more to himself then to the girl and before he realized what he was saying he had just revealed he was from New Eden.
Amital stopped and scanned the streets and seeing no one about he looked seriously and coldly into her eyes before speaking. "Listen girl, I'm under strict orders not to have told anyone I'm from New Eden, or even talk to anyone out here... if you so much as breath a word of this conversation I will have no other choice then to kill you and whomsoever you told. If you can do that... I'll see what I can do about getting you inside Eden. If I do get you in there you are not allowed to speak of me either though, the city does not know the Senate decided to create me over twenty years ago... no they didn't create me... my mother did... they... they changed me." he growled and his grip tightened slightly. Amital did not know his true mother, but was aware of her existence and never understood why he was chosen for this project rather then some orphan, despite the fact he knew that orphans were never allowed to exist in New Eden. They planned everything, breeding included, but when tragedy struck and a child was left homeless the child was given to a pair of parents who applied to breed but would otherwise be incapable of having a child. He knew all this but his rage at him being the choice to become some science experiment still did not deter.
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Posted: Tue Aug 04, 2009 1:41 am
Alexander Sidorov was an impatient man, he preferred to know exactly what it was he wanted, so that he could pursue it than let life drift opportunities by. Afterall, there was no guarantee that the opportunities it presented would be the ones you wanted.
It was this attribute which today was causing him great annoyance. He had done everything he could do, in a few weeks time the Senate would vote as it had many times, but instead on his proposal for an expanded application and research of the Black Death Virus. All of his friends and favours had been called in, and there was very few people he had not discussed, convinced or negotiated with in the past couple weeks. It was in celebration of his success that he had accepted the invitation from colleagues to attend an Opera. In principle he despised such events, however the need for their votes and feeling confident in his success he had attended. He wished now that he had followed his gut and ignored the invitation, as it had ruined his celebration and instead left him filled with desire to redouble his efforts.
BioHuman, the very word left a feeling of disgust in his mind and mouth, as if even unspoken it tainted his very tongue. Bio, as if they were some sort of natural evolution or upgrade. They were not, they were scum. Imitating life, imitating skill with computerized circuits. Sidorov had nothing against small genetic modifications, the elimination of heart diseases or life enhancement techniques for example. Even replacements, such as lost limbs or eyes were fair game, but to replace the very core of a human, to eliminate the very, dare he say, soul, was to far. And although he should have known she would be there, he nevertheless attended, and was nevertheless given an uncomfortable reminder of still how far he had to go before he would be hailed as a hero, the saviour of mankind.
There were few in the New Eden Complex which knew it, even most senators did not, yet Alexander had ruthlessly pursued information on his fellow senators, blackmail or bribery, it was always useful to know everything you could and eventually he was introduced to a scientist who claimed to have assisted with the creation of a daughter for High Senator Lovell some years prior. Intrigued, he went after a full list of scientists and names who were considered close to Miss. Lovell at the time of her daughters birth, and gathering information found himself led to a seemingly improbable, nay, impossible conclusion. Naverin Lovell, daughter of Miss Lovell, was in fact an Android. A robot, a machine, call it what you will, although the scientists used the term biohuman, he sneered at his empty office, he knew the truth. She was a fake. And if she, and the others who were slowly drifting ever closer to being similar to her were not destroyed, then humanities humanity would be in peril. And it was up to Alexander 'Moozh' Sidorov to save it. Yes, someday, he would be a hero. But first he had to win a senate vote...
((I'll pretty it up tomorrow scream It's 4AM. Time to sleep! Sorry for the lengthy delay and I guess somewhat shortish post, but at least it's a first. .))
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Posted: Tue Aug 04, 2009 12:21 pm
xxxxxxShe's a Killer QueenxxxxxxxxxxxxGunpowder, GelatinexxxxxxDynamite with a laser beamxxxxxxxxxxxxGuaranteed to blow your mind xxxThe man lifted Xanthe and carried her west. He had explained the danger of his home, but she felt that her place would be no safer; even though it was a flat in the "nice" part of Dante's Shallow, it was crawling with murderers and rapists, not to mention gang members. Would a man, a complete stranger to them, appear near her flat, Xanthe in his arms, her ankle broken, they would no doubt attack him as a stray dog attacks another that wanders into its territory. But Xanthe would not tell this man not to take her to her flat. This was a determined, strong man. He would not end a task before he accomplished it.
xxxDeep in her thoughts, Xanthe barely caught what the man said.
xxx"I'd say you're appealing to my human nature." Her heart seemed to skip for a moment. Never had anyone told Xanthe that she appealed to them; it was mostly "You make me hard.", "How much, baby?", or the ever-classy <******** me hard, you little b***h!". "...I'm not exactly human." Xanthe tilted her head slowly at this, gazing up at the man and giving him a once-over. Nothing about him seemed out of the ordinary, except for his extraordinary kindness. She knew that kind of kindness did not come from a man from Dante's Shallow, but tenderness is not a criteria for picking out non-humans from the general population. "...will destroy me if I go back to Eden now."
xxxBack to Eden? Dammit, Xanthe, don't be so dull! This man isn't a chip hunter! He's from Eden! Xanthe inwardly cursed herself for being so dim.
xxxSuddenly the man paused, gripping Xanthe tighter. Her stomach did a backflip; whether or not he meant it as such, this was the closest thing to a hug she had ever received. "Listen, girl," the handsome man said seriously, his gaze going cold. As he spoke, Xanthe watched his lips form the words perfectly. The passing death threat to her and whomever she told of this conversation did not phase Xanthe. She had not known him more than an hour, but she already felt bound to him.
xxxXanthe smiled sadly as he spoke of his mother. She gently put her hand on his chest; not to seduce, but to console. "I never knew my mother, either." Xanthe paused. "She ran off to Eden and left me for dead at the whorehouse." She licked her lips nervously, gazing into his eyes. "My name is Xanthe. Xanthe Jenner." She slowly lifted a hand to his cheek, softly caressing it. "Who--and what--are you?"Recommended at the pricexxxxxx
Insatiable in appetitexxxxxxxxxxxx
Wanna try?xxxxxx
You wanna try.xxxxxxxxxxxx Post style © KillerQueen Bash 2009
Lyrics © Queen
If this message can be found within a post and KillerQueen Bash is not the poster, please report the poster.
Love, Bash.
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