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 Posted: Fri Aug 20, 2010 11:50 pm
°¤°¤°¤ §ħǝƲα ᶎǝȓİα ₳ƪƪαİȓǝ ¤°¤°¤°  This doesn't make much sense
Think far out but I'm still locked in
I'm still lost, walking circles
The floor swallowed me up whole
There's no where to go - - - - - - - - - - - X Sheva’s hand fumbled around the bedside table as it sought out the infernal buzzing alarm clock. Upon locating the device she flipped the switch and silence once again befell the room. She rolled over and opened one eye to stare at it. She watched as the zero quickly flicked to a one, the clock now reading 9:31 a.m. Sighing she brought herself into a sitting position and looked around the room. After a few moments of sitting there she pushed the blankets back and slid off the side of the bed. She walked to her closet and pulled out a pair of skinny jeans and a black tank top. She examined her shoes and grabbed a pair of black and red plaid converse. Having picked out her attire for the day she headed off to the bathroom to begin the process of readying herself for the day.
After showering and doing all the other parts of her morning routine she made her way through her apartment towards the kitchen. The apartment was well decorated but overly so considering she never had guests. Well, no guests aside from the occasional visit from the others living in the building. She didn’t quite understand why she decorated it as so; perhaps it was her way of keeping a bit of normalcy to her life. Lord knows it was anything but that. She pulled open the fridge and examined its contents. Nothing sounded too appealing to her so she simply grabbed a bottle of water and an orange and sat down on one of the stools that lined one side of the island. She ate her breakfast in silence and cleaned up before plopping down in front of her computer. She habitually checked her email before moving on to checking the daily news.
Having finished updating herself on what was going on she left the computer and walked over to the sliding doors in her living room and pulled open the curtains allowing the mornings light to fill the room with a soft glow. She looked down at the streets below and took in the masses. Their ant like appearance reminded her of something she had seen in a movie. From the day she had heard it, it had kind of stuck with her. Her voice was quiet as she recited the quote. “I don't want to be an ant. You know? I mean, it's like we go through life with our antennas bouncing off one another, continuously on ant autopilot, with nothing really human required of us. Stop. Go. Walk here. Drive there. All action basically for survival. All communication simply to keep this ant colony buzzing along in an efficient, polite manner. "Here's your change." "Paper or plastic?' "Credit or debit?" "You want ketchup with that?" I don't want a straw. I want real human moments. I want to see you. I want you to see me. I don't want to give that up. I don't want to be ant, you know?" She sighed and stepped away from the doors. “I certainly do… too bad there's no escape from the colony.” Turning she walked over to the open violin case that sat on a table by itself. She removed the dainty instrument from its case and brought it up and rested her chin against the chin rest as she used her free hand to grab the bow. She played a few notes and adjusted the tuning before moving into one of her favorite pieces.
And that was her morning routine. Every morning it’s the same thing. Wake up, get ready, update herself, and indulge herself in one of her favorite things. Just a little bit of consistency before her day falls into utter chaos. She lowered the violin as she brought the song to a finish and gently set it back in its case. Turning back to the balcony doors she flipped the lock, slid them open and stepped out into the morning air. She walked over to a small table and grabbed the pack cigarettes, a lighter and lit up. She didn’t smoke often, but when she did it was usually after a long day or during periods of high stress. And today felt like one of those days. As she exhaled the first puff of smoke she leaned against the railings and closed her eyes. - - - - - - - - - - - X There's a vulture on my shoulder
And he's telling me to give in
Always hissing right in my ear
Like it's coming from my own head
It's got me mixed up, trying not to give up
Tell me there's a way to get out of here
Oh, fixed at zero
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Posted: Mon Aug 30, 2010 11:37 am
ISAAC cole ARMINE ПОСТАВЩИКLoad it, c**k it, pull it, refuse to be ignored
I'm not gonna fight your war
All the distractions kill the compassion
Suddenly, fame has lost it's attraction Isaac grumbled a little as he cleaned himself of fresh paint. Some of it smelled, and it appeared that there was no particular reason for it. He was an early riser, he was usually up and out of bed between six and six thirty. Today was his day off from his day-job, not that it mattered too much, he could get off whenever he wanted to. In any case, he figured it would be a good time to indulge in one of his favorite hobbies. Painting was this hobby and Isaac had even developed quite the special method to get into the room on his floor. No one could bother him in there and no one could see inside much less get inside. It was a very precise event to be sure. At least twenty pounds of weight had to be applied to a scale inside the room to uncover the lock, which was also inside the room. A specially shaped key was required then. Isaac could make these things happen from outside the room, thus successfully hiding his hobby from the others.
It wasn't really that he was ashamed or anything, but who had heard of an assassin who loved painting? It was no matter, "I haven't been on a mission in a while... Let's hope Cross finally has something for me." Isaac thought to himself, closing the door to his little safehouse. He was getting hungry, and though he could easily just 'poof' himself some food, he felt that it was unfair to the shops in the Terminal. He would make exceptions, but if there was no rush and an item could be purchased rather than created, Isaac would do it as well as make his comrades do it. He worked, they worked, he could relate. Within the compound, Isaac was generally garbed in foreign or casual clothing. There was no particular reason for that either, he just liked it.
On his way down stairs, Isaac suddenly stopped. He still smelled a bit of paint, there were a few blotches on his clothing as well. He and his comrades were elite warriors trained in the art of stealth, deception, and the intricate art of a**-kicking. He figured they'd be able to spot bright colored paint on dull colored clothing. He was also slightly distracted by the muffled noises of a violin. Either one of his fellow hunters was actually really good, or someone was listening to a piece that was unfamiliar to him. Nodding to himself, he wandered back to his floor to shower and change. He'd been hungry before, so he could probably make it through this little 'drought.'
The smell of paint was still slightly evident, though perhaps he could just call his comrades crazy and they would pass it off. If he was lucky anyway. Now he was in simple sandals, since walking around the compound barefoot just seemed weird to him, but he had simple white linen pants and a oriental style open shirt that was dark blue in color with small white flowers to accent it. The collar was pretty loose, and Isaac didn't bother with the sarashi in the compound. He was now back on his way downstairs.We're a broken people living under loaded gun
And it can't be outfought
It can't be outdone
It can't out matched
It can't be outrun
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Thorthelordofawesomeness Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Sep 15, 2010 12:14 am
Nexxus Allarius Rush
THE GHOST Auslösen das Blitzkrieg.
Furcht das geist aus heimgang.
The young man stood stark silent on the roof soaking in the sweet cold air of the morning, the calming warmth of the suns rays, the sounds of the city below coming to life, the low whistle of the wind through his hair. The day was beginning to look like one of those days that he would look back on with fondness, the kind of fondness that consists of a sense of accomplishment and happiness. The man looked up to the sky with a smile, it looked like rain. The man's smile broadened at the concept, a brisk morning with rain. It almost called for a walk out to the park, almost but not quite. The man wouldn't walk all the way to the park unless the weather was perfect for it. As it was it may have been nice, but far from perfect as of yet. The man spoke then, adding his own whisper to the quiet chorus of the wind. "Vormittag Bruder, Mutter, Pater. Gods rest your souls. Today feels different.... Today feels like a new beginning.... Rest knowing that you will be avenged."
The man pulled out a small book and a pen, undoing the bindings on the book and opening it to a fresh page upon which he placed his name in a signature. Nexxus he was, Nexxus he would remain. The book contained ideas and poetry and served as a sort of relief for Nexxus' often thought-crowded mind. It wasn't that he couldn't concentrate, it was more to relieve him of the annoyance of having the thought buzzing around in his head. Unbeknown to the others was a code placed upon every page that allowed Nexxus to vent his innermost feelings without fear of discovery. Even if the book was taken it would take any individual years to find, let alone decipher, the code without any hinting or assistance from someone who wrote in the exact same text as Nexxus (which was quite impossible because Nexxus had invented this cipher himself).
It wasn't like Nexxus had all day to stand on top of the roof however, he would doubtlessly have a job waiting for him. Being able to get in and out of anywhere in seconds made him incredibly desirable for jobs in either a support role or an assault role. It wasn't hard to get assigned to a job alongside someone else either, his resourcefulness often outweighed any doubt about assignment. He decided to go and see if there was anything interesting happening today as he waited for the rain to start. He took a mere three steps towards the far corner of the building and allowed himself to fall through the floor for two levels before allowing himself to flop down on his favorite reading chair in his own apartment. He had sealed over all the doors and whatnot, being able to pass through the walls made doors obsolete and a potential health hazard. Besides, it wasn't as though the other members would be that hard pressed to simply blast their way through the wall in a time of need. He had left them at simple drywall for the most part, having only bothered to reinforce his bedroom. For a moment, Nexxus was still, allowing the silence of his private library to envelop him in its smell of aged paper, a smell that originated from the bottom shelf where he collected vintage books, and cigars. He found it incredibly restful. Cross and the potential jobs could wait for him to finish a smoke and a shot of whiskey. So, promptly, Nexxus pulled out a shot glass and a bottle of whiskey from the library liquor cabinet and a cigar from the case on the desk and poured, lit, puffed, tilted back the glass and swallowed all in that order. So far, it was a good day for Nexxus. He only hoped that this good day would continue to remain good as he took another puff.
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Posted: Thu Jan 20, 2011 11:55 am
°¤°¤°¤ §ħǝƲα ᶎǝȓİα ₳ƪƪαİȓǝ ¤°¤°¤° This doesn't make much sense
Think far out but I'm still locked in
I'm still lost, walking circles
The floor swallowed me up whole
There's no where to go - - - - - - - - - - - X Her green eyes fluttered open after a few moments and fell to the cigarette in her hand. Nothing’s changed. I thought that the one good thing being forced into this would give me is for life to gain some sort of… spontaneity. I suppose for the first little bit it had but now it feels the same as it did before. Same s**t, different days. She took another drag from the cigarette and turned her eyes up to the sky. I gave up on you long ago or well… at least part of me did. You’re not doing a very good job of proving me wrong. Am I wrong here? Did I do something to deserve this in a past life or something? This isn’t exactly the life I had in mind. She looked at the cigarette in her hand once more and then thought about the situation she was currently in and smiled shaking her head. As she turned to head back inside she put the cigarette out in a small glass ashtray that sat on the railing.
She stopped at a shelf just the door and lifted a picture that lay face down and set it upright. “Distraction needed.” She mumbled to herself. As she stepped forward her form split into two leaving an exact copy of her standing where she had just been. She turned to face the copy of herself and sighed, “I know I don’t have to say this but I’m going to anyway, no one in and no one out.”
“And I know I don’t have to say this but do you think that’s a good idea?”
“Is what a good idea?”
“Playing dumb doesn’t work on me. I think just as you do.”
“Just because the thought is there does not mean I’m going to do it.”
“I know but for a few seconds, you considered doing it.”
“I didn’t create you to be my conscious physically manifested. You’re here to watch the place, that’s all.”
“What am I watching for?”
“Everything and anything.” As she turned from her copy she pulled a red ribbon out of her pocket and looped it around her wrist a few times. “I can be really annoying sometimes.” She stopped at a closet near the door and pulled a light black fitted jacket out and put it on.
“I heard that.”
Sheva grabbed a set of keys from a hook the door and stuffed them into her jacket pocket. “Remember no one in, and no one out. I don’t care who it is.”
“Right.” Her copy said as she plopped down on the couch. "No one in but should they get in, they don’t leave until you let them.”
Sheva shut the door before her copy finished its sentence and made her way down the hall. “I can make silent copies of everyone but myself. I really need to fix that.” She wasn’t entirely sure where she was going or what she was hoping to accomplish, all she really knew was that she needed to be out amongst others. She had spent more than enough time by herself this morning and it was never a good thing for her to spend too much time in silence. It allowed too much room/time to think.- - - - - - - - - - - X There's a vulture on my shoulder
And he's telling me to give in
Always hissing right in my ear
Like it's coming from my own head
It's got me mixed up, trying not to give up
Tell me there's a way to get out of here
Oh, fixed at zero
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