A Farewell to Lenaire: IC

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OPEN SIGNUPS - A Farewell to Lenaire | IwakuRoleplay.com

You can only push a person so far before they reach their limit. Once reached, some people won't budge, some crack or shatter altogether, but some explode and rise as something entirely different from the ashes.

No one knows which they are until faced with the aftermath, but everyone has their limit.

Running for Lee Taures would be the death of him he realized. Vacant expressions flashed by on either side as he rushed down the street. For all its faults, all its inequalities and all the hardships forced upon the population it was strange to be able to say the city was alive. People going about their tedious tasks, carving whatever meager living they could. Occasionally children could somehow be laughing, blissfully unaware of the injustice inflicted on their parents. Quinn could even recall a few years in his own childhood where he was the same as them, but nothing could last forever.

Memories like that led him to sloppy work. It only took a single misstep to land him in his current predicament, but then that's all it ever took. He continued barreling down the street. Trying to do his best to distance himself from the four guards on his trail. While he had to cut in, out and between the downtrodden public, the guards path was virtually cleared like Moses at the Red Sea. Quinn could hardly blame them for inadvertently working against him. While he was sure they wouldn't want to see him caught, they wouldn't want to incite the wrath of the guards upon themselves either.

What it ultimately meant was that the guards were gaining steady ground on the young Quinn, despite his best efforts to remember the proper back alleys and shortcuts that would lead to his escape. As they closed in further, desperation set in and Quinn started to cause some havoc. A particularly surly Vendor peddling his near rotten crops would go as pale as a ghost as a leg of his stand was taken out and his wares fell to the ground. A crowd of hungry denizens all but threw themselves at the fruits and vegetables, making a bit of a mess for the guards to work around, and a bit of afternoon entertainment for Kyne from the window of his workplace.

While Quinn knew he shouldn't, he never really could resist admiring his own work, and he risked a quick look back at the angry guards working their way through the crowd. It was a rare thing for a smile to worm its way naturally onto his face, but in this case he could hardly repress it. His gaze shifted once more ahead of him, but his revel would prove to cost him as he crashed directly into the rather shapely form of Kailyn Andor- not that he knew that, sending both of them to the cobblestones. He quickly sprung to his feet while she floundered for a second, no doubt amassing a torrential line of insults. Unfortunately looking back to the guards, Quinn saw he had no time for such pleasantries.

“Sorry, I swear I’m usually more of a gentleman. And sorry again.” he said with a small wince before taking off on his way. Kailyn would be left confused initially, but that confusion would pass as one of the guards also crashed into her, sending her once more to the ground but with a new partner this time. Quinn hadn't even looked back as he heard the second crash of bodies, and he didn't envy what the girl was about to go through for obstructing “justice” he kept on track. Moving swiftly down the street all too aware the more time he spent trying to escape, the more guards would be on his tail. The initial four were now no doubt aided by half a dozen more, and that problem would only grow larger and larger.

A quick left into an alley took him off the main road, but wouldn't help shake his followers, he went as fast as his legs could carry him down the alley only to find a dead end. A panic overtook him as he realized his mistake. All it ever took was one wrong turn in this business and suddenly you were cooked, and on this day Quinn almost certainly was. He searched the brick wall staring him in the face for answers, unsure how to proceed. Surrender, and lose any hope of reward? Not likely. Fight his way out? He had no idea how many were behind him now, but the number of voices echoing towards him filled him with dread. He turned to face the soon approaching enemy, and found he was looking at a relatively familiar face.

She was a street-tough of notable ill-repute. Known to most Runners as independent muscle for hire. What she was doing here he could only guess, being lost himself it was possible she simply lived here but at the moment Quinn hardly cared. He shot a smile at her as her name came to his mind. With her help he might yet get out of this. "Brick? You're Brick right? Looking for work? You get me out of here and it's a fifty-fifty split for you. Interested?" the voices were drawing nearer, and there couldn't be much time for her to decide.


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Victor Wellmore
Common Cell
Victor woke up with a bit of a sore head sitting up in the cell he sighed as he recognised his location. "Mumblecrust." He snarled at a guard who seemed to be giving the cell a rather wide berth. Now awake he sat up and watched the officer toddle off out the door like someone had just rubbed his nuts in honey and sat him over an anthill. The large cell had another ten men of various stripes and... conditions... laying around it like the wandoubts many of them no doubt were. He studied the cell once more to be sure.

Twenty feet across and sunk ten feet into the stone one wall was a caged affair opening out into a courtyard, though slightly sunken into the ground. The other three walls were simple solid stone, there would be no way out that way. Leaning back against the wall he took hold of one of the bed-head's spokes and began trying to quietly work it free of it's brackets. Most of the prisoners seem to have taken note of the guards reluctance and kept clear of Victor but he also noticed a few holdouts. "Careful you you're watching there yaldson, I might just take offence at your gaze and pluck those pretty blue eyes out and return em to you as a suppository." Victor said in a tone such as one might use buying apples from a cart at market, or discussing a bolt of cloth with a clothier.

Victor's comments were enough to convince most of the on-lookers to avert their gaze. One rather mean looking customer however might have intensified his stare, no doubt not taking the threat too lightly. Before things could get anymore heated between the two a chuckle was heard from the only other man still looking towards him. As Victor would come to look at the man he would see a slim, tall man with numerous scars on his body. He stood against the caged wall with a smirk on his face. "I suspect you'll fit in well here."

Victor also chuckled. "Who me, i'm only passing through." He continued working the spoke trying to free it. "Any idea what put the honey on the bobby officer's nuts?"

The inmate's eyebrows piqued at the question. "I was half hoping you might be able to share with me. They brought you in looking like they'd been dragged through hell, bitchin' about some tavern they picked you up in, and you've barely got a scratch on ya." he glanced out into the courtyard with an eye obviously used to scanning for useful information.

"Feels like they clubbed me." Victor chuckled. "I like to blow off a bit of steam after a hard day." He turned his mind back to the previous night. "Looks like I forgot the 'get out before the bobbies show up' part, I think I might have laid a few of em out cold." He shrugged it off. "So what brought you to the room with a view?"

"Well everyone has different ways they come by their jollies I suppose." the inmate said with a chuckle of his own. He gestured to himself in an innocent manner. "Me? Oh I'm like you. Just passing through, but I'm on business."

Victor nodded sagely. "Business tends to be a bit hard to manage in here. But for now, I think i'll relax and enjoy the accomodations until... an opportune moment." With that he seemed to relax, though his hands were working the spoke just as hard as before.


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Minara Corinne
The metronome like tapping of the small blonde's foot was put to rest by an all too familiar bustling from close by that caused a sharp sigh to come from between the woman's lips. All he has to do is bring it the rest of the way, he said, he's done this before, he said, trust me, he said. A short clip of Mina returning back with a few 'words' uttered from the palm of her hand in a very 'to the point' manner ran through her head for a moment before she briskly shook it off and pinched the bridge of her nose as she considered. Let him get what's coming to him and don't get paid, or, risk your own safety by intercepting the pursuit of, she listened for a moment as she attempted to guess the severity of the scenario that was unfolding throughout the town, too many officers and get paid.

Another sigh let itself out into the open after a minute of considering, finally coming to a decision as the commotion began to fade further away. With a quick tug and tuck of the long ponytail, she was off. Every back way and shortcut she knew that intercepted the path the runner, what was his name again? Finn? was supposed to take was her own path. Looking in each nook and cranny as she neared the sounds of of quickened footsteps searching for the same thing she was. Mina few confident, and then slowly confused. She knew she was headed in the right direction, but she found herself traveling away from the chase. Had he lost them? Or had he found himself lost? Frustration flooded her despite trying to remind herself of the fact that this, person, held her next paycheck.
"This is why I don't work with people.. this is exactly why." She mumbled to herself quietly.

"False hope. False hope it is." She concurred before changing her course to the 'drop off point' aka 'base'. She arrived with very little troubles, not even worth mentioning. The usually soft and mostly blank features of her face were still contorted in such a way that screamed 'Yes, I'm irritated, ask me why.' The way she walked only added to the thunderstorm that followed her. "Please tell me he's been back." She begged, a plea that was quickly followed by a sarcastic chuckle came from the male she spoke to, "No such luck, Mini." "So you're going to pay me anyways because I told you so, right? Also, speaking of telling you things, I told you to stop calling me that." He rolled his eyes with a small grin "Good luck with that, both, actually. If someone doesn't return with the goods, you don't get paid." "Fan. Tastic. Thank you, Seth." She replied with obvious joy, taking a large step of anticipation towards the exit and back into town. The girl took a moment to stretch before heading back into the fray.


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Kyne Hardwin and Kailyn Andor
A colab with @Tempest

To Kai, the day was going just fantastic. She had beat some fuckwit bloody who tried to filch from her purse and nicked a bit of sugared fried dough to munch on cheerily. Of course, now she was wading through the crowd, mouth full of delicious goodness... And some arsehat knocks into her, throwing her to the ground and making her lose her treat. She scrambles to pick it up, that was the rule of course, only a few seconds and it was still good. Of course, someone steps on it with their grungy barefeet, grimaces and kicks it off into a puddle. Her eyes go wide, her bottom lip quivering before her face begins to turn a few shades of red. She shunts herself to her feet to let the one responsible know just how she felt about him. He was already gone out of her sight, though she heard the call over the din of bodies. She spits and begins to turn, cursing, "Like bloody hell you would, Richard."

It was no sooner that she attempted to brush herself off than another individual knocks her to the ground. Winded, she finds her fists beginning to ball. She pushes herself up, a stream of curses leaving her lips, worse than any sailor many might have heard. She wheels upon the officer that did it. To this point, she didn't give two licks who this crotte was, she was going to kick their ass and it was readily apparent in the way she held herself.

Kyne put down the yarn he had been winding as soon as he had realised who it was that had been knocked down at the end of the street. he didn't know the young woman by name, but he had seen her around and her reputation was such that she was likely to get herself into trouble. He excused himself quickly, telling his present employer that he would be right back, and headed out into the street, weaving through traffic and making a bee-line for the officer and girl. He racked his brain to try and think of something to disarm the situation as he approached, maybe he knew the guard, he couldn't teel approaching from behind as it was, he might be one susceptible to bribes, not that Kyne had much on him, rent was yesterday and most of the rest had been used for a few days food. Still a good few paces away and Kyne had no definite plan of action to follow.

She was oblivious to the fact there was slowly becoming a part in the crowd around her. Even more so that Kyne was coming. Her focus was on the guard that had no respect for his better. She growls and shoves him back by his chest, "Fuckin cock-eyed blighter, do you know who you just knocked down?!" The blank look of the guard sent the vein at her temple throbbing as he lips curl back in a snarl, "I am a daughter of the House of Andor, you fool! I should lay you out for not being more mindful of your betters!" She launches a swing at the guard's face, who appeared to be growing as red as hers was.

Kyne reached the edge of the gathering crowd to see the girls fist collide with the guards metal bracer as he raised it to stop the attack. The guard was about to hit back when Kyne figured out his approach.

Deliberately missing a step in his stride, Kyne 'triped' and fell into the guard, josling him and no doubt surprising him in the process. "AH, My apologies officer, damn these clumsy feet of mine." Kyne said as he reached out to slip the guards coin purse from his belt. with a little luck he could use the officers own money to pay him off before he even noticed the pouch was not where it should be. Kyne gave the girl a quick wink, hoping she would take the hint and back down, slip away even while he tried to distract the guard.

She looks bewildered at the sudden change, taking a moment to process what just happened. Her hand stung, her knuckles were split from striking the bracers so hard. Now, the guard was on his ass. She gives an expression to Kyne as if to ask, 'What are you even doing?' as he winked, but a chuckle comes to her lips. "How's it feel to get knocked on your arse. Serves you right." She cradles her hand to herself, her head raised high. It was obvious she felt no need to flee and was intent on trying to rub it in the guard's face.

"Young lady," Kyne said as he turned to the girl. "One should not mock a loyal officer of the city watch after such an unfortunate accident." He added as he moved between the girl and the guard. Kyne then turned his head to focus on the girl and lowered his voice so only she could hear. "Take the hint girl, go while he can't give chase." he said in a somewhat harsh tone.

She looks affronted and snaps at him, "Like I'm scared of some dog of the city! You call them loyal, fah, if they knew where their loyalty really lied, my family would still be at the heart of this city!"

Kyne sighed inwardly, this was clearly not going the way he had haphazardly planned, whats more the longer they stood around the more likely it was the guard would realised his coin was missing and quite rightly blame one of the two of them for pinching it. Kyne, perhaps unwisely, decided to try and force the issue as he placed a firm hand on the girls shoulder and tried to force her to turn and walk away.

"Get your damned hands off of me, geezer!" She shuffles to try and get him away, reluctant to leave, even as the guard was gathering himself back together. However, still being guided, she looses a low guttural noise and lashes out violently against Kyne with a well-placed elbow.

Kyne had not been expecting the attack, which took him square in the stomach and had him doubled over gasping for air a moment later, the flinched coin purse now lying on the ground beside him as he dropped it to steady himself.

In hindsight, that had definitely not been a smart idea.


Magnificent Bastard
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Fantasy is my #1; I will give almost anything a chance if it has strong fantasy elements. Post apocalyptic, superhero, alternate history, science fantasy, some supernatural, romance, and a few fandoms (especially Game of Thrones) are also likely to catch my eye.
Lana woke up in a strange alley. Most alleys were strange for one reason or another, but this one also wasn't familiar. Then again, in a way it was familiar in a sense because she woke up in strange alleys so often. She'd gone for a celebratory drink last night, after another victorious fight in the pits, and when she drank she usually ended up wandering around the city thinking dark thoughts until she passed out in a convenient but not necessarily comfortable spot. Most people scraped and suffered just to afford a shabby roof over their heads, but Lana had gotten used to sleeping rough as a child. She saw little point in wasting money on a room when she could waste it on booze and entertainment instead.

Her lazy ruminations were interrupted by a man running into her alley and making it a little more strange. She could hear the pursuit, boots against stone that could only mean guards approaching, far too many to count by sound. Lana stood just a few seconds before the man turned from his futile examination of the end of the alley, and she respected his nerve: he didn't jump or scream upon seeing her hulking figure, even though he apparently recognized her and would then know her reputation. The man spouted off his quick pitch, and Lana only had to think it over for a scant second.

"Deal." She pointed a meaty finger at him, keeping her face as blank and impassive as always, though for some reason that seemed to frighten most people more than a snarling grimace. "You don't pay, you don't get to walk no more. Knees break easy. Get ready to run." Threat and minimal instructions delivered, Lana started running toward the mouth of the alley. Truth be told, just the opportunity to ruin the guards' day was payment enough for her, but nobody survived in Lenaire for long if they were too charitable. She dashed to the end of the alley, then paused to wait for the guards to be just a few feet away. Once they were there, she'd walk out quickly and turn to intercept them, waiting for one of them to run into her before she started swinging her large fists around in what she could claim was defense. All she needed to do was delay the guards enough to let the Runner slip away, and if a large, angry Brick in their way wasn't enough of a distraction for that then the guy had no chance at all.


He sniffs and draws his shawl closer about himself as he looks about the thoroughfare commerce. He had wanted to look over what the market had to offer this morning and perhaps even pick up a few things if they caught his fancy. Of course, the long night up with a crooked-nosed bastard named Bjuke had been an awful endeavor. Huffing, rutting and then being told by that disfigured man with more scars than face, when sweaty and exhausted, that the Archer himself wanted his ass to report in was the last thing he wanted to do.

Vosko looses a caw at his shoulder and nibbles on his ear as he his jostled. His dour look lifts into a genuine smile for the briefest of moments as he reaches a hand to scratch under the raven's chin. The creature nuzzles into his crop of hair in response and for a moment, he tells himself everything will be okay. Which lasted all of two seconds as his mind drifts back to the Archer's request to see him. Dear old dad, he thinks to himself bitterly before batting away the thought. The abuses he had suffered throughout the years from that man made him in no way his father. The odds of him being screwed over by the man was far more likely than any paternal sentiment to come from him.

Of course, one never neglected the Archer without suffering his rebuke. Merle scratches at the tuft of a goatee he had as he spies a smattering of guards bumbling through the crowd after a lone stranger. He raises his brows, an idle thought crossing his mind that the runner was more than a little fine looking, before he turns down the street to reach CA headquarters. Just starting along the path made the long healed brand start to itch and his skin started to crawl. He was tired, he really did not want to be doing this. His feet carried him anyways, though. Vosko nervously rustles on his shoulder before taking off in flight. He knew where they were going; since the last time one of the Arrows threatened roast him, he never entered with him.

His gaze following the avian, he wished he had wings himself to fly far, far away.

That was a pipe dream, though.

This was Lenaire, and his master had called.
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