Born to Kill

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Fluffy, Apr 24, 2011.

  1. [​IMG]

    October 28th, 4:05 PM

    The beautiful autumn day showed clear skies and leaves of red, yellow and brown moving briskly through the streets. Despite the sunshine, the breeze was chilly. Shops were decorated festively for the month of Halloween, some anticipating judgment for a prize on which was decorated most creatively. Along the sidewalks, children who were recently picked up from school pointed excitedly at the decorative windows, while others attempted to pull their parents into stores to purchase goods and costumes.

    All seemed normal in Brooklyn; in New York as a whole. Everything was lively as ever, even during the increasing frigid weather. The warier folks knew something was going to happen soon, though. Nobody could put their finger on it; a storm? An apocalypse? A war? Likely, a combination of the three.

    Priscilla was uncomfortably buried beneath a mountain of dirt on a construction site, waiting long and patiently to be touched by her Master, so she could be freed of her deathly weapon form. The dirt pile only got larger, instead of smaller. Was she not allowed to see daylight again?

    The girl never stopped trying, though. At every change she got, when she felt a connection, she reached out to the person meant to wield her. ’Master..! Hello?’ She knew not his name, but knew he existed. He passed by her every so often; she could feel it.

    Dingding

    Work was over for Alexis Johnson at four that day. The door with a pumpkin shaped bell closed behind her while she zipped up her black windbreaker and pulled the hood over her head. She had a relatively busy day; The Mad Tatter always had discounts around Halloween. Times like the holidays made AJ bitter, but at least the sales kept her mind busy. There wasn't anyone to celebrate with, except for co-workers when they planned get togethers. The optimistic side of her said that was better than nothing.

    During her walk to the bus station, she saw one of her favourite shops coming into view. The items sold were various, with weapons, art, Japanese films and different sorts of odds and ends. Nothing cheered her up quicker than buying something, no matter how cheap it was. At the very least, she could browse for anything new. AJ had an eye for art, especially from other cultures. Her apartment was filled with different little sculptures, pictures and unique candles she would never light.

    The door was pushed open and she pulled the hood from her head, her pierced lips flashing a quick smile to the shopkeeper before she walked to a shelf of items. A finger traced along the shape of a dragon figuring, her nails coloured a hot pink with an image of Hello Kitty's head on each finger. Suddenly, her eyes looked to a corner where a spear was propped up. 'That thing's been there forever...'

    "Manny, why don't you ever clean that? You know nobody will buy it when it's covered with dust," she spoke to the elderly man behind the counter.

    He looked up from an artifact he was inspecting and said, "Oh, Alexis. No one wants it, anyway. People give it strange looks and I'd rather not touch it, either. There's something haunted there. I might as well throw it out."

    "That's just silly!" AJ glared at the man and walked over to the corner, running a hand along the length of the weapon to remove some of the dust. There was nothing scary about it! In fact, there was something right about having it in her hand. 'It's so pretty and unique. Why abandon it?'
     
  2. Alyss adjusted the scarf around her neck a bit tighter as she stood leaning against the railing of the Brooklyn Bridge's walkway. She truly loved it there, the wind, the water far below, the people walking past. It was all so busy and calming at the same time. It was a bit chilly today above the water but it didn't seem to slow down the children who wanted cute pictures on the bridge. Alyss giggled and swirled as she felt a breeze whip around her, and as she faced the crowd again a man walked by who was wearing a rather interesting outfit. With a wide-eyed stare she slowly began following him all the way from the bridge back towards the financial district on Manhattan.

    If Alyss was being inconspicuous it wasn't on purpose, she was just entranced by the man's outfit. She couldn't tell what it was exactly but she wanted it. She followed him all the way down into the subway station and even further onto the 4 train, heading to the Prospect Park stop. It was there that she lost him, distracted by the large Brooklyn Museum. Oooh, it's so pretty! I wonder if I have enough money to go in... She pondered, blocking the outpouring of people walking up the steps to the street.
     

  3. The silence stretched for an eternity.

    For centuries, Alexander had held a quiet dialogue with himself. After awhile, he had formed different characters to engage in conversation with. The first was Alex, a jovial chap who remembered the exuberance of his 'youth', of fighting the good fight and upholding justice and righteousness. Another fellow was Xander, a darker, brooding type who held close to his chest his true feelings over murder and bloodshed. From there, either character fractured even more so, until each personality became a caricature of a larger whole.

    It was the only way in which Alexander knew how to stand the silence.

    But then, the words became too much. There was too much to say, too much to think about and brood upon, just too many voices!

    'You should have done this,' one voice would say.

    'That was wrong, and you know it, Xander,' his own mind would respond in a voice an octave higher.

    So on, and so forth, and the different stances would bicker and bitch.

    Eventually, the voices stopped, because Alexander himself ignored them. They became fragments of voice, echoes in the back of his conscious as he focused entirely on the idea of serenity and supreme loneliness. It finally got to the point where nothing at all went through his mind; he was finally at one with existing without thought or action.

    That is, until that girl touched him.

    He felt the cool, gentle touch of her fingers along the indecipherable script on the length of himself. Alexander felt himself tremble at the touch, but not because it was the first time he had been handled since arriving to this shop of trinkets. No, there was something more there, a sense of familiarity. A sense of... Belonging to this girl. He suddenly wished for this girl's hand to be wrapped around him, to lift him up and to cart him away. But why? Why would he wish for such a thing?

    Straining, he tried to think in words once more. After the many years in silence, he no longer thought in words and language. Everything had become abstract to him. It was a struggle however, and finally, Alexander simply projected an image into her mind:

    Of her grasping the haft of himself, and taking him home. He event sent her the image of a potpourri of hearts splashing about.
     
  4. "Hey Big B! You'd better get away from there, we're about to collapse the outer wall!"

    Brent raised his hand in acknowledgment of the warning and shook his head. He could have sworn he had heard someone whisper at him before, but there was no-one else around him. "It must have been my imagination" He thought and shrugged while yawning. He hadn't slept in days. Nightmares of grotesque creatures chasing him, shadowy figures tormenting him, and the silhouettes of Eric and Julia getting farther and farther away from him the more he tried to reach them plagued him as soon as he closed his eyes to sleep. Scratching his head absentmindedly he trudged away from the wall to get out of harms way.

    ’Master..! Hello?’

    Again that voice, the female voice! Brent quickly turned around to look at who was whispering to him, but again he found no-one who could have done such a thing. He was about to move on when he saw the elegantly decorated point of something stick out of one of the dirt-piles. Yawning again he edged closer and grabbed the end that was sticking out, giving a long hard tug to get it out from beneath the sand and gravel.

    "Brent! WATCH OUT!"

    The explosion that was set up to collapse the nearby wall knocked the giant off his feet. He felt a stinging pain on his cheeks and arms as gravel and pieces of glass whizzed past him and nicked his skin. Most of the stones fell straight down, as was the intended purpose of the controlled explosion, but some of the heavy bricks landed close to where Brent lay, one barely missing him by a hair.

    "Jesus jumped up Christ! are you okay Brent!? What the hell were you still doing back there Big B? I thought I had warned you they were going to blow the place?" The foreman waved with his arms as he came running towards the big man, and looked less than pleased as he shouted.
    "I'm sorry, Sir. I guess I must have zoned out for a bit. I haven't had a lot of sleep last night." Brent answered truthfully. He looked down at what he was holding in his right arm and was surprised at the craftsmanship of the item he was holding. The hammer he had liberated from the dirt pile was a bit dusty, but it looked like it could be worth a pretty penny if he took it home with him and cleaned it up.


    "What is that thing you're holding?" The foreman asked, squinting at the hammer, but then his eyes seemed to briefly glaze over and he focused back on Brent. "No matter. You risked your life out there just now, Buchannon. You know there's always stuff that can go wrong, despite the safety precautions we take. If you can't focus than I'll have to send you home."

    "But..." The giant protested.

    "No buts! You're going home and that's that, I won't have any fatal accidents on my watch. Now get going!"

    Brent 'Big B' Buchannon sighed and turned around. Slowly he began to walk away from the construction site in the direction of his apartment. He yawned again and looked at the weapon he had liberated from the filthy dirt-pile it had been hidden in. "You're beautiful." He whispered in adoration of the intricate patterns that bedecked both shaft and head of the hammer. He could not have known, that his life had just forever changed.
     
  5. Life got terribly lonely as more dirty piled on her day by day, week by week, month by month... Something that fascinated her though, was watching scenery change. Humans constantly pushed things aside to make room for something new. It disappointed her when all the action was later shielded from her view. Everything about the new environment was curious. The desire to explore it became stronger than her desire for bloodshed.

    To her fortune, Brent finally spotted her. A sudden warmth flowed through her when he held her in his hands, the sunshine only adding to her comfort. There was no shine to the hammer like there should have been, due to all the filth. She didn't care, though. Freedom from that darkness finally came around.

    Priscilla wanted to apologize to the man for what happened. The debris that showered him could have been avoided if she didn't get his attention. Luckily, there wasn't much harm done. From what she could tell, he was doing well, aside from sensible sleep deprivation. That was something she'd need to remedy... Fighting whilst drowsy never had happy endings.

    An adoring whisper was then made to her as he carried her off; he said she was beautiful. Had she been in human form, that would've made her blush. The urge to transform into a woman again was fought back for his sake more than hers. This city was filled with people who wouldn't think kindly of a gigantic hammer turning into a girl. That didn't mean she couldn't have a conversation with him! Now that she was unburied, she could finally talk to this man.

    'Your name is Brent? My name's Priscilla!' Her voice was cheerful in his mind, completely oblivious to the possibility he might get freaked. She always assumed her new wielders predicted her coming, though things weren't like they used to be. 'Where are we going?'


    The sudden idea of AJ taking the weapon home with her was projected in her mind. Rather than simplicity, she saw much more to it. Given the message her mind conjured, she'd be happy to have it in her home. Though, she couldn't help but wonder how such a thought crossed her mind. It appeared at random, just when she was about to set it back down and try to convince the storekeeper to clean it.

    "If you're so sure it won't find a good home, I'll take it," she decided, turning to the man at the cashier with the spear in hand. "How much do you want for it?"

    The man sighed and adjusted his glasses, leaning over the counter while staring at the precious item she held. It held much value; he could tell that much by the intricate patterns. There was nothing quite like it in his shop. Manny didn't have the heart to charge her a fortune, though! "I think you'd rather spend money on my new shipment of Hello Kitty dolls, Alexis dear. Buy some of those offa me and you can have it for free."

    The first genuine smile she had all day appeared. "You have more?" she asked in an adorably squeaky voice, rushing to the cash register. Manny laughed heartily and nodded, taking out the box he only recently opened. A Hello Kitty dressed as a cheerleader was set out on the counter, along with one in a strawberry costume and one wearing a baseball uniform.

    "I'll put them in a bag for you," he said with a chuckle, when he noted the starry gaze she gave the three plushies. While he bagged them up, she fished out her wallet and handed him the cash he required, insisting he keep the change. The bag was slid onto her arm to hang from her elbow so she could hold the spear in both hands. Once she got back outside, she quickly pulled her hood back up and began her journey home.

    "Well, I can't ride the bus with this," she quietly told herself, mentally shrugging it off. "That's alright, though. I rescued this pretty thing from a trip to the dumpster. You'll be much happier in my home."

    Smiling lightly, she ran her hands over the length of it to remove more of the dust. There was a confidence in her steps that was never there before, all because she had this weapon in her hands. AJ didn't notice, though. She was too busy admiring the shine it had once she cleaned it some. An emerald coloured ribbon she sometimes used to tie her hair up was then pulled from her pocket and tied in a neat bow inches below the spear's pointy head. It gave the weapon some personality, she thought and at the same time, symbolized how she made it her own. Everything was like an art project to her.
     
  6. [size=-2]
    Constantine folded his sunglasses with a small, defiant 'snap' and tucked one of the ears into the breast pocket of his pale peach button-up. The shopping center had, as usual, nothing of any interest to him at all. He hadn't been looking for clothes, he could get a private tailor at any time, even if he decided that he needed a sock fitting at two in the morning. That was not the point at all. He had been looking for something interesting in an otherwise drab life.

    Constantine waved away his personal assistant and informed her coldly that he had no intention of climbing back in the car with her. She was new and unused to his temperamental bouts and when he had spun away, she fought to keep form crying. It was little surprise why the yos ung master went through help like water, despite the lucrative pay. There was honestly nothing wrong with the woman but he didn't spare even a moment thinking of whether or not she knew that he had just been feeling restless and wanted to walk.

    Constantine placed his glasses lazily on the bridge of his nose once again now that he did not have to intimidate anyone to leave him alone. It was really much harder to be taken seriously with the oversized frames obscuring much of his face. The bright sunlight made the glasses seem useful, though he wore them even indoors. Constantine took the glasses off to convey his dominance and on the same token, he felt naked and exposed when others could freely see his eyes. Not that the cold blue orbs held any intimation of human soul or emotion, as any one of his previous employees would attest.

    Constantine's wanderings led him past the museum and some girl was standing in the middle of the crowd, swaying moronically while she watched the big building. Almost without being able to help it, his own eyes flicked up to the museum for the first time though he had been walking past it.

    "Watch out" his growled absently, brushing off his shirt sleeve. It felt like there had been some painful electricity tingling over his skin when he'd bumped her.
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  7. Something very close to the idea of a smile stretched across the empty fabric of Alexander's mind. For the first time in centuries, he felt cherished for more than his ability to slaughter, maim and kill. The girl that grasped him looked at him as more than a mere weapon, or object.

    Through some strange bond, he felt her purity. He could sense the aura of innocence and strength that exuded from her, and it put him at ease. It calmed the raging torrent of a soul he felt he had, that he had so long ago locked away in the back of his conscious. The great sea of black that made up his existence was nothing more than a sheet that covered the his true self.

    But that green ribbon sure made him feel good about himself.

    'Thank you.' The words echoed meekly in his mind, and Alexander was both thrilled and surprised that he was able to form words so quickly for this girl. He wondered if the words bounced into her mind, as well. He could only assume, and hoped for desperately. She had, after all, picked him up when he urged her to do so, hadn't she? She was the one who he had been waiting centuries for, wasn't she?

    Wait, he was waiting for someone... Right? Alexander's mind twisted in anger and confusion. He hoped the emotions didn't bleed through. He wanted her to keep being kind to him, so instead, he sent out another thought.

    'Alexander. I am Alexander.'


     
  8. Alyss finally caught attention to the fact that she was holding up the pedestrian traffic. What a foolish thing to do in this city, people were no doubt irritated beyond belief at her. She took a couple of steps away from where people were walking to continue admiring the building and debating on going in or just walking past and heading into Prospect Park...

    She felt someone brush past her and when she turned to look her eyes narrowed, he made some show of typical huffiness but dared to act as if he was above her by brushing off his shoulder. Ooh, I should snap his neck where he stands, it would be simple, just drag him off to that alleyway over there and a small little twist, maybe a bit of strangulation, nobody would suspect little ol' me... She was unaware that Constantine could probably hear her thoughts, projecting them from the little spark that he felt.

    In truth Alyss had no clue what was happening, when she fell from the chest she had hit the ground hard, causing her to transform into her human form and forget all about her days as a weapon, truly she thought that she was just a normal girl who had recently moved to the big city. She glared at the man before turning on her heel and heading out towards the museum, crossing the street quickly.
     
  9. Brent crossed the road and turned down an alley, a shortcut that would save him three or four minutes due to the traffic and obstacles he avoided. He had more than one reason to duck into that alley besides the shortcut though. As soon as he was out of sight of people, he leaned against the wall and rubbed his brow. He needed to get rid of those nightmares somehow, and fast. Maybe he should call Julia later tonight, she was a psychologist after all, maybe she could help him.

    It was at that moment that the voice began to speak t him again. This time it was not at the edge of his hearing, but really close by, as if the speaker was right next to him. After looking around and once again not finding anybody who could have spoken to him, he sat down against the wall, one hand against his face while the other laid the heavy war-hammer on his lap. "I AM going crazy." He groaned and sighed deeply. Somehow it was a relief...he had feared that his meaningless life would make him snap one day, and now that day had come he could only be glad that the wait was over... and what was more, that he hadn't lashed out against the environment but apparently turned in on himself.

    The giant began to laugh. If he was going crazy he might as well enjoy the ride. "You're name is Priscilla, hmm? I suppose I should be pleased to meet you. It's not everyday that I get to meet voices in my head. As for your question, we're about to go to my apartment, it's not far from here."
    He spoke in a level voice, and looked straight ahead instead of at the hammer, having no idea about the connection yet. "So tell me... Are you an imaginary girl I created for myself because I was lonely? Or are you born of some traumatic event I've blocked from memory?"

    Big B smiled grimly as another thought invaded his mind. "As far as crazy people go I'm not doing half bad for myself, don't you think? I mean, you have a wonderful voice, I could be worse off..."
     
  10. [size=-2]
    Constantine felt as though there was a pressure behind his skull, squeezing his brain a little and pressing against his eyes. With that pressure, he thought he heard a voice, but it was fractured. His head felt like he'd smashed it against a unforgiving brick wall next to him several times and he couldn't understand why. He shut his eyes tightly, massaging his temples until the feeling disappeared as suddenly as it had set in.

    Constantine looked around at the people standing near him, aware that he too was holding up the pedestrian traffic. He didn't even notice that the girl had vanished and he didn't care. With a grouchy expression now cemented on his features from that sudden agony, Constantine commanded a wide berth in the people around him without even saying a word. Angry footsteps took him far away from that place before he could think twice about it.

    Constantine was startled back to his senses when he realized that he was surrounded by green foliage. Constantine inhaled the wet air deeply and flicked a glance around the park. Ordinarily,e he wouldn't go to places like this but there was something calling him now. His head was still a little tender and he felt a deep listlessness overtake him. Yielding, he laid his body in the grass like he was placing a precious object down gently, gingerly resting his head on the lush blades. There was something to the earthy scenery that calmed him and without meaning to, he began to nap. In its relaxed state, his mind being to try to purge its connection that it had formed with the girl but it seemed to no avail. Whispering now in the back of his mind was the same lurking presence that resided in hers.
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  11. Priscilla was giggling, some of which must have echoed in his mind. Obviously, he hadn't a clue who or what she was. That shouldn't have come as any surprise, since for too many years, she was without a wielder. Quite possibly, she skipped over some past men or women who were supposed to carry her into battle. Part of her felt sad about it, while the other part delighted it. It seemed that as years passed, people became more power hungry. She went from a friendly ally to just... A tool.

    'I'm not imaginary, silly. I'm real! In fact, you're holding me,' she cheerfully replied. 'Thank you. I like your voice too!'

    Perhaps, he would need some convincing that she existed. They were going to her apartment; she had no idea what that meant. Prying through his thoughts would be scarily invasive for somebody who just now started to meet her. So, she settled for it being a comrade of his, or a dwelling, or a workspace.


    She waited a moment longer until there were few to no observers. A soft glow then emitted from the hammer, whiteness engulfing its shape. It became to take on the form of a human girl, whose hand was in his grasp, since he still held her after all. Long hair of reddish orange flowed behind her and she stared with solid, inky black eyes traced with purple. The girl's attire was modern to suit the setting, however many of her accessories looked ancient. Upon her alabaster skin were smudges of dirt from being buried so long.

    "Gods, I can finally stretch," Priscilla said with held back enthusiasm. She didn't want to frighten him with her overflow of energy. Or frighten him more, considering her miraculous transformation. With a relaxed sigh, she bent her knees and then made a jump into the air, still holding tightly onto his hand.


    "You're welc--uh, what?" AJ made a suspicious expression and took the time to look around her. People still walked along, minding her own business... There wasn't anybody talking to her! 'Oh. I'm just a crazyhead.'

    That conclusion couldn't be final, though. Someone called himself Alexander after expressing some negative emotion. AJ furrowed her eyebrows and bit at the area of her lip that was pierced, bringing the looped piece of metal into her mouth for a second. Her chocolaty eyes then looked to the spear she carried in her hands. Every time she so much as made a glance at it, she felt something she never felt before. Familiarity, kinship, passion, strength; all at once.

    No one ever talked to AJ anyway, so she went along with it. Better than she get acquainted with a haunted spear likely to possess her, than abandon it on the soggy roadside and run away screaming. The latter would make her guilty, anyway.

    "We have similar names, Alexander spear from the land of magical wonders. Mine's Alexis. Alexis Johnson," she told the weapon in her hands. "I go by AJ, though."

    A half smile then showed on her face. For some reason, she felt good being able to talk to this voice. She didn't give a damn if anyone saw her talking to herself. People already thought she was an oddball, so why convince them otherwise? AJ even talked to her stuffed animals for company and now wondered if they were capable of thought. Was her Toy Story related fantasy coming to life!?

    Sighing cutely, she absently traced a finger along the bow she tied onto the spear. 'Great, this thing's masculine... I guess I shouldn't put more frill on it.'
     


  12. 'No, it's fine,' came that mysterious voice. Alexander was finding it easier and easier to form words, now that he was using them again. He still communicated with his thoughts, however, thrusting the image of that ribbon into her mind as he 'spoke' the words to her.

    'I.. Like it. Please, don't take it off.'

    He became more aware of his surroundings as the girl Alexis, or AJ as she told him to call her, carted him through more of the city he had seen since he had been brought here. When he had arrived at the shop she found him, he had been so withdrawn from the reality of the world around him that he had barely noticed the passing of the Ottoman Sultans to being given to some enterprising English antique dealer.

    'Where are we going?' He asked her in a curious tone, his complete awareness absorbing any- and everything around them. 'You're very pretty, by the way. Your tribal paint is unique.'


     
  13. With increasing disbelief Brent rose from his sitting position against the wall, gaping all the while at this girl who had mere seconds ago been a hammer. It was lunacy, completely madness in it's most glorious form. And yet he could feel her hand on his, he could see her red hair moving in the wind, and he could hear her cheerful voice.

    Brent closed his mouth and tried to pull his hand back, realizing shortly after that she was not planning to let it go, and decided to leave it where it was. He scraped his throat loudly, thinking of what to say to this apparition, this hammer-girl.

    "Wait, so say that for the moment I'm willing to believe this is real and that you indeed just really transformed from a hammer into a girl instead of this being a case of my mind playing tricks on me... Where did you come from, and who are you really? How did you get here? And how did you turn into a girl just now?" He sputtered for a moment and drew a deep breath before looking at her again. "Are you a frickin' were-hammer or something!?"

    Brent threw his hands in the air, unaware of the intimidation factor his size would lend to this act of frustration. He then seemingly calmed down again, and sighed deeply. "Look, I'm sorry for losing it and bombarding you with questions, but this is a lot to take in all at once. I'm still not quite convinced that this is not some weird coma dream caused by the explosion. How about we walk to my home and you can explain some of those things to me on the way, then I'll treat you to a cup of coffee when we arrive. Deal?"
     
  14. Alyss was stopped at the entrance to the museum, it turned out that she didn't have enough money to get in. She huffed and stomped her foot and turned on her heel, heading out towards the park, that was at least free. It didn't take long that she was lost in the foliage, walking further from the streets and into the deeper parts of the park. It was so dense it almost made Alyss forget that she was in the middle of the city. It wasn't long before she was breathing in the fresh air and having her eyes droop. She was becoming more peaceful and an image flashed in her mind, an invading army and she was reaching out, pushing them back, dancing about amongst their swords, hitting people in the face.

    She snapped her eyes open just in time to barrel over the guy she had bumped into earlier. It was a shame, this day had started out so perfectly and now it seemed like the gods were intent on ruining it!

    "Are you following me? Are you some kind of pervert?!" Alyss shouted, readying her purse to smack him.
     
  15. "I-I..." Priscilla took a step back from him. It wasn't because she was afraid of him. The size of a person or creature didn't intimidate her. She felt that she upset him, so she hung her head shamefully, lacing her fingers in front of her. "Have I angered you, Master Brent?" she asked quietly, now wishing she had stayed as a hammer. This was the first time somebody reacted this way, so how was she to know? Now there was no question about it: The people of this era didn't even know her kind existed. They were probably fables to them. Hell, he asked if she was a were-hammer, whatever that was supposed to mean.

    "I'm a gift, sir. A gift from the Gods to the Romans, however my being passed down from warrior to warrior hasn't been the pattern they anticipated. Actually, we were supposed to be locked away forever... I don't understand why we've been freed," she briefly explained to him, though there was much more to say. That could happen later, she supposed. The poor man was flustered, confused, possibly even scared.

    At the mention of coffee, she gave him a puzzled look. Clearly, she had never heard of the beverage. He was the boss, though. "Alright," Priscilla mumbled with a sheepish smile, then let her inky eyes look around her surroundings. With a timid look, she stepped to the side of him, peeking around his muscular arm as if hiding from a monster.

    "Where... Am I?"


    A childish expression masked AJ's face when he called her beautiful and complimented the ink on her skin. Pink even tinted her cheeks, easily noticed through the make-up she often wore. People always commented on her tattoos, however she was seldom called pretty.

    "We're going home," she answered, one hand letting go of the spear so she could fish her keys out from her pocket. "I live in a cruddy apartment, but eh. It works."

    When they arrived at the tall apartment building, she climbed the stairs to the second floor where her rented space of the complex was. Once she was inside, she shut the door behind her, locked it and clicked on a lamp. The place wasn't spacious, but was kept lively with framed artwork as well as unique odds and ends. On her coffee table there was a messy pile of papers with sketched tattoo art, some of which was coloured. None was complete work, though.

    Until she could decide on a place to put 'Alexander', she set him down on that table and went to her bedroom. The dolls she purchased were added to a shelf entirely dedicated to Hello Kitty, each and every space almost filled by a sitting or standing plush. She grinned cheerfully at the collection before leaving her room to a ten gallon aquarium kept next to her sofa.

    "Am I really so lonely that I've personified a freakin' weapon?" she asked pathetically while she unscrewed the lid to her fishes' food. All of the critters gathered to the surface once they saw AJ take the container in hand and began nipping at the flakes she sprinkled over them.
     
  16. [size=-2]
    "You supreme example of blatant idiocy, you're the one who tripped over ME while I was lying down. I should be asking you if you're stalking me. Don't think that just because I bumped into you while you were doing some ditzy nonsense in front of the museum you'll be able to get money out of me. I have no idea why else you would be following me but if you're going to continue to run your clumsy self into me and yell while I'm trying to take a nap, I'm leaving."

    Constantine was offended less at being stepped on and far more at being accused of being a stalker when clearly he'd been having a lie down. He leapt to his feet without touching the ground, casual grace in his movements. The gentle elegance of his form did not, however, carry over to his features which were pinched at the corners of his lips. His temper, however, was already cooling down, his passions and emotions shutting down once more. It was alarming to him, really, that the woman had inspired something from him at all.

    A presence in the mind of his mind seemed to curl and kick, grasping at tendrils.

    Constantine turned his gaze to the young woman's face, his visage being set as usual into a cool mask now that he was no longer angry. Both hands were tucked into his pockets and Constantine turned a little on his heel, seeming to dismiss her with his actions and icy, unyielding posture.

    "Look, lady. I'm not going to fall for any of your traps, I'm not some moronic playboy that maybe you could encourage to sleep with you. With that being the case, you're not going to get any money from me or anything. You'd have better luck looking for some fool elsewhere to play your games with."
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  17. "We're in Brooklyn, New York." The large man stated. "Though if it was the roman times the last time you were around, that won't tell you much." Brent stepped out of the alley and turned right. He was lucky his house was in walking distance this time, he didn't own a car. He took a glance at the girl to make sure she was following him, before continuing the conversation.

    "A gift from the gods you said? To be honest, I doubt the existence of any god these days, let alone the roman ones. I'm not sure if you've ever heard of Christianity, but that's the dominant religion now and it's not exactly ruled by gods, but by mere men pretending to speak a single god's mind. I haven't seen or heard of any miracles either. Well, that is... up until now." He sighed clearly not happy with what he was about to say.
    "I guess what I'm trying to say is... If you are used to a world where miracles are common and gods take an active interest in the world, you are about to be sorely disappointed. Heh, the only people who talk with god nowadays are madman and those that use drugs."

    Brent looked at the girl once again, if only to verify she was still there and if he WAS going crazy, it was at least consistently so. He crossed the street into the downtown area and stepped into another alley to cut through to the street where his home was. "What am I even doing bringing a girl I just met to my home anyway?" He thought. "Aside from the fact she was a hammer at first, all I know of her is that she's a "gift from the gods" and was locked up for some time. She might be dangerous if she had been locked up. People didn't get locked up by the gods without reason, did they?"

    He played with the keys in his pocket when he turned around at her and looked her in her eyes with an earnest expression. "Can you tell me what you were locked away for? I need to know this before I invite you in to my home..." He said, and nervously looked to the sides. "And none of that 'master' or 'sir' either. Just call me Brent, please."
     
  18. The man stood and began raving at her about something, he seemed offended but it went right in one ear and out the other for Alyss. All she got out of it was that he was accusing HER of following HIM! Oh how dare he! She wasn't going to stand for this, her fists clenched into balls and unclenched back and forth, she had half a mind to strange him right here and now!

    When he seemed to suddenly turn off his anger and turn away from her it only worked to make her more infuriated but she would have to play this his way.

    "Listen ya jerk, I don't want anything from you, but you've bumped into me twice in relatively short order. You're handsome go find some other woman to follow around and perv on! Unless..." A devious smile spread across Alyss' face. "Unless of course you'd prefer the companionship of a young gentlemen caller. Oh yes, I've seen that many times over the years..." She turned around and made a grand gesture, swinging her arms wide, "Oh how the young man wishes to lay in bed with another young man yet his upbringing or status or something, like, makes it so he can only pretend to love a woman. Woe is the young man so he takes it out on random girls that he happens to be stalking. WELL I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU!" She quickly turned around and thrust her finger at his chest. "I'm not looking to be your beard, you hear me mister? I don't want to follow you around and be stuck at your side like some kind of pet or weapon or something!" She huffed and put her hands on her hips.
     
  19. [size=-2]
    Constantine was not perturbed in the least by Alyss's words ad instead, he smirked a little bit and turned to face her then, his eyes glinting with ice. Constantine grabbed Alyss's wrist before she could move away from him, his smile turning into something twisted. His strength was curious since he never seemed to do much, but the hand that grasped her wrist was shackle-like.

    "So now you're interested in my sexuality, are you? I don't think a fragile little street walker could satisfy me though, no matter how big her attitude is. You'd do better elsewhere, where the physical endowments are less noticed. Perhaps someone with lower standards. I really just want you out of my sight though right now I think..."

    The weakened ending to his verbal assault was due to the feeling of electricity that seemed to course through him when he held her wrist. It was sickening, he felt a strangely vivid self-loathing. What was this? He pulled away from her, his stomach lurching a little. The anger that welled up inside him seemed to be draining him, though and he stumbled as he turned, falling to one knee.

    "The hell are you doing to me? Did you drug me?"
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  20. Alexander absorbed everything he saw, dedicating it all to memory. By the time they arrived to AJ's apartment, he had memorized the route to and from the shop she had found him. Perhaps he would return there to thank the shop owner; while he had been dirty when AJ found him, he was not mis-handled and thrown about, nor did the shop owner let mischievous children handle him. Yes, a thanks would be in order.

    The building she entered was tall, the apartment small and cozy. There was many pieces of art lining the walls, and odd knick-knacks dotted the room as decoration. It was an interesting living space, Alexander decided. In the many years he had invented worlds within the blank landscape of his mind, he had never quite conjured a space like this. He decided that being found by AJ was definitely the best thing to happen to him in centuries.

    AJ set him down carefully on a short table covered in papers, drawings and sketches actually, and moved about a large tub filled with fish. Alexander quirked his head to the side, watching her, before he spoke. This time, however, his voice didn't simply echo in her mind through mere telekinesis.

    He was in the room with her. Physically. In a human-looking body, sitting on that same coffee table.

    "I'm not just a weapon, you know," he spoke, tilting his head in the other direction. His voice had the gentle lilt of an accent, not quite English, but definitely European. He was an older-looking man, at least in his late 30's judging by the salt-and-pepper of his scarce, scratchy beard. He was definitely in top physical condition, however, as judged by his athletic build that was easily discernible due to his nudity.