Welcome to Gaia! ::

I hereby declare this roleplay open.

The night was calm and the sky clear and crisp. Amidst the edges of the nearest anti-Anthro part of the city a black shape carefully sifted and glided through the outskirts, precariously plotting its course towards the water treatment facility. The twinkling stars above held no prejudice, merely a standoffish disinterest towards the insignificant and oftentimes ugly interactions of the feeble creatures that lived on the surface of the Earth. Hallowed echoes of automobiles and the piercing headlights of the early birds touched the walls and sides of buildings, the fantastic construct of the safety and impermeability of the urban lifestyle only as fleeting and ignorable as these passing sensations.
Within the crude, yet complicated web of interconnections of the bustling city, the Pale Rider cast his shadow. He had begun systematically conducting small missions, simply causing unrest and fear. They appeared to be failed, and the vile human authorities were confident-or perhaps more appropriately, overconfident- in their ability to apprehend any individual who posed a threat to their precious and fearing citizens. A sly smile formed along the muzzle of the creature beneath the ossified gasmask.
How little they actually knew.
With the dawn swiftly approaching, the Pale Rider knew that tonight was not the night to initiate his grand plan. There would be time; he must first lull them into a false sense of security. Perhaps it was time to hang up the cloak for a bit, no?
Alright…
With an almost saddened air, the hunched figure dissipated from existence. A gentle breeze caught the gossamer fringes and edges of his clothing, further dissimulating the essence of reality and being in his form. Catching the rift of cool air, the scrawny figure gently flowed with the wind, gracefully floating along the surface of asphalt and concrete beneath his feet. He left no footprint, not a hint of ever being present.
As the sun crested the horizon, Monere crept into a small loft in one of the anthro-friendly neighborhoods within the slums of the city. As morning breached the sanctity of the night, so did Monere burst forth and overtake his rationality. Once settled down and having stored his garments and tools in his bedroom closet, Monere carefully stepped through his living space. He wore only his undergarments, not intending on leaving the house that day. His hand ruffled and scratched at his mane of hair, a few strands breaking free and falling to the ground. He made his way through his bedroom and into the kitchenette area. Once there he lit the stove and started boiling a kettle of water. He left no footprint, not a hint that he had ever left the house.

Monere’s sunken eyes were cast towards the ground. Despite the rising sun, his loft was still full of shadows and darkness. He was pacing about with no real intentions, merely speculating at what he might do with his day. Although Monere didn’t have much money, he managed to get his hands on a small television just the other week. Fortunately, despite the depraved state of the apartment, there was still basic cable access available as well. With the press of the power button on the remote, the TV sprung to life and the faint buzz of electricity filled the air of the small loft. There was a half-empty package of cigarettes sitting on the counter-top in the small kitchenette, Monere groped for it blindly while keeping his eyes on the television display. The picture started to come through, the voice of the human news anchors slowly becoming more articulate and audible as the TV warmed up.
They were muttering on about some kind of public interest story; you know the kind. Small anthro girl who grew up in the ghetto managed to burst forth from her depravity and ascended the economic ladder to land herself a place at the local college. Through hard work, determination and a headstrong attitude, this spunky little squirrel-girl would end up doing something great! Monere shook his head and cursed audibly. “What a joke.”
Making his way to his room, a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth, Monere grabbed his lighter from next to his bed and approached the large window on the far side of the bedroom. With a swift motion, he cast the curtain aside, allowing what meager sunlight was available to permeate the lingering darkness of the night. He lifted the lighter to the end of his cigarette, flicking the flint wheel with his thumb claw. The spark caught and charred the end of the small white stick of tobacco and nicotine. He took a long drag, the glowing orange embers lighting up to a yellow color, fading back to reddish orange as he pulled away. He slunk down to a sitting position, his knees were drawn up to his chest and his butt slumped to the ground. He glared at the outside world; silently planning, patiently waiting.
Just as he was finishing off the cigarette, he heard the whistle of the tea kettle from across the apartment. “Alright, alright... I hear you.” He stood up quickly and glided towards the kitchen, pulling the metal pot off of the burner. He started to prepare his tea for the morning, seeping a tea bag in a cracked tea cup. He leaned his weight on the counter, trying to decide what he was going to do today.
First step, get dressed... As the tea slowly dissociated its flavor into the hot water, Monere stepped into the bedroom and donned a normal set of civilian clothing; tan cargo-style pants, a black tank-top and a worn-down set of black sneakers. He ran a hand through his messy hair again, the shaggy black mane sticking right back up.
With a sigh, Monere downed his tea and smoked another cigarette. Now the sun was higher in the sky, more light illuminating his apartment. He yawned and grabbed his keys, making his way towards the door. He figured it would be best to head over to the local store and get some food, maybe another package of cigarettes, maybe some cough medicine... With a shrug and no real plan, Monere left his apartment and locked the door.

Stopping at the fox's apartment, Seft had ascended the fire escape with his follower. He had tried lose him several times, only to find the raptor waiting for him whenever he thought it was clear.
Having given up, Seft now waited for someone to open the window and let him in. A certain fox he had patched up a while back had given a concussion to a rather stubborn mouse, and he checked to make sure they hadn't killed one another every now and again.
As he was about to tap on the window, he noticed Leere was doing something to the window. "... Are you insane?"
"I've been called so many times," The raptor said matter-of-factly as he used a number of small tools that emerged from the baggy trench coat he wore. "But I know the fox who lives here. Question is does he remember me, given how long it has been." Done speaking, Leere had the window open by means Seft didn't want to know about.
Slinking in before the falcon could stop him, Leere stopped in the middle of the room and just looked around. Deciding it would be safest to follow him, Seft entered in behind him, carefully. The falcon's frame barely fit in through the window, what with wings adding to his overall width, and it required setting his bags in first. He wasn't as silent as the deinonychus, and didn't try to be.

Two dark amethyst eyes peered under the couch. They weren't predatory, but curious. Not that it made much difference, since Leere had a tendency to scare everyone and everything without meaning to.
The eyes vanished quickly, however, thanks to Seft. "Just... Stop frightening her."
"I wasn't intending to," The deinonychus said in his defense.
Ignoring him, the falcon shut the window. "Its just me Wren, the local shotgun toting falcon who tries to patch up people who get injured... And a rather frightening deinonychus who won't stop following me."
"You carry a shotgun with you?"
If Seft's beak weren't a problem, his face would be permantly attacked to his palms thanks to the raptor. Instead he had to content himself with sighing. "Anyway, do you know if Dinaer is around?"

It was still a bit early as Monere carefully made his way through the city. Although the sun was rising, there weren’t too many stores open, and most people were just waking up. Monere had been saving up some money for quite a while- ever since he was out on his own. Although he never had a use for money besides paying his meager rent, he decided it might be time to invest in some honestly acquired technology for his endeavors. Not to mention, it’s easy to slide some food into a loose pair of pants, but to get a computer out of an electronics store would require lock-picking and electronic deactivating skills he did not have. As he passed by some of the alley ways, he could have sworn he caught a glimpse of two forms hovering by an upper-story window on an apartment not too far from his own. He shrugged and continued to walk. Break-ins were common, but there wasn’t much worth stealing in these parts.
Glaring forward, daring not to make eye contact with anyone else, Monere trudged through the sidewalks and streets, eventually finding his way to a local electronics store. He pushed the door open and a small bell indicated his entrance. A frail-looking human sat at the glass case in the middle of the store. He was dreadfully elderly. The glasses on his face looked an inch thick, his skin looking just about ready to fall off the bare bones poking through. Monere inspected the small collection of electronics, but most of the wares seemed outdated. He old man mumbled something at Monere, his grumpy voice hardly audible. “No, thanks.” Monere didn’t really hear what he said, but he also didn’t care. With a sigh, Monere started to wander his way back towards the front of the store. He glanced again at the old man. Thick cataracts looked like thick globs of petroleum jelly over the man’s iris. In addition, his back seemed severely contorted and hunched over and his hands looked gnarly and twisted; most likely rheumatoid arthritis.
It would be a pity to let him live such a dreary and unfulfilling existence.
The whispers of mercy and deliverance filled Monere’s head. Although he usually delivered death out vengeance and bitter hatred, the Pale Rider was an Angel of Death at times. Deftly, Monere slipped his hand into his pocket where a small vial of a thick liquid was stored. It was excessively volatile and would fill a small room with a deadly poison in about 5 minutes. The man wouldn’t know what was coming. He would feel tired and ponder closing his eyes for a moment. How many customers would fancy a visit to his shop, anyway? With a sigh, his eyelids would connect and his breathing would slow and slow and slow… Until he breathed no more. Eventually the gas would escape through the vents, the sunlight deteriorating the chemical and causing it to degrade into a harmless vapor.
As Monere left the store, the vial now empty, he breathed a deep sigh and continued deeper into the city. Surely there would be better electronics in a richer part of town.

Wren poked her head out from under the couch and eyed each anthro in turn before sneezing again and coughing up a dust bunny. Doing her best not to concentrate on how ridiculous the predator-to-prey ratio in the room was at the moment she offered a bit of good news, "Well, the underside of the couch has been cleaned."