Born to Kill

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Fluffy, Nov 10, 2009.

  1. An empty coffee cup, scratch paper and an overused mechanical pencil – All disposed of in the garbage can of a local coffee shop. A man with bleached hair and peach coloured skin stepped out of the sweet smelling shop with an unlit cigarette in his teeth, unnoticeably satisfied that he was now finished with his college duties for the day. His laptop and other essentials sat comfortably in his backpack while he reached into the pocket of his denim pants, pulling out a lighter to flame the correct end of the stick. He was absently toying with the lighter after his cigarette was lit, soon pocketed when he came to a curb where he’d have to wait to cross the street. As he exhaled a breath of smoke, it reoccurred to him what today’s date was. No cake, no candles, no presents… As it should be. What was another year to his age anyway?

    His sapphire eyes looked above his sunglasses, watching the traffic come to an abrupt stop when it was his turn to cross. With his cigarette in hand, the now twenty-year-old man walked briskly in between the white lines painted in the street, dropping his addiction on to the ground because his head was beginning to pulse with a strange pain… The moment he reached the sidewalk on the other side, he grabbed hold of a store corner, the other hand gripping at his scarf as his eyes shut tightly behind the shades on his face.

    “…Master..”

    The voice of a girl echoed in his head as if calling his name. Although he didn’t want to, he found himself going in the opposite direction he was intending to. Outside of town, there was a lone, old tree with weapons that have been waiting a long time for their new masters to arrive so they can be set free from their true forms. Luther Wilcox hadn’t a clue what was propelling him to go this way, not even going back home where his precious motorcycle was. What he wanted more than anything was the headache and blood rush to stop…

    Within that tree, a pair of cestus dangled for dear life upon one of the tree branches. They too were sending out signals, hoping to be found and touched once again.
     
  2. [size=-2]
    The others compelled him, the time had come, so it was said and so it would be, but something inside willed the power to resist. A pair of assassin's knives twitched so slightly, not even the insect buzzing nearby noticed.

    I... Don't... Want... Another.

    An internal battle was being waged, the other siblings, his he considered them, all privy to his struggle despite his attempts to block it from their hearing. They made small noises of dissent.

    'Ma... ster...'

    His call was hesitating, he was still not ready to give in so easily.
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  3. Alongside the Cesti and the knives hung a sword, suspended in its sheath, the sword-belt wrapped around a branch. The black leather of the sheath and grip irridesced faintly as it caught the light, and the polished steel of the hilt and pommel-spike glinted wickedly.

    I acknowledge no master, it informed its companions in no uncertain terms. But if I must...

    [size=+1]COME[/size]
     
  4. Another day. Another day of work, of school, of existing.

    Fei eyed the bottle in the brown bag which she'd had the good sense (and that was rare nowadays) to put into a plastic bag for safe keeping. She couldn't even recall what she'd bought exactly. All she remembered was that it was some type of fruit juice mixed with more alcohol than a six pack of beer. It had sounded marvelous at the time.

    Fei usually had a rule about waiting to get home to open the bottle but because this had been her first day to train "the new guy", she figured today would be the exception. She popped open the bottle as she sat at a bus stop and took a swig.

    Hm. Considering the fact she hadn't eaten today and hence, was drinking on an empty stomach ... Oh yeah, she should get drunk rather quickly.

    [SIZE=+1]COME

    [/SIZE]
    Fei took another swig and stood. She should really get home. She didn't have anyone to help her so if she passed out in some alley, she was on her own. Her steps were sure if a bit slow but somehow she found her way to a tree she had never noticed before. She felt a little light-headed but that had to be the alcohol, just taking effect a bit faster than she figured it would.

    On the tree, there were some strange things in the branches but she didn't notice them at first. She didn't notice any of them. As soon as she reached it, her fingers brushed up against something. She squinted. Was that ... a sword in a sheath? Before she could stop herself, her world swayed and she reached out and grabbed it.

    Fei fell to her knees onto the ground. She still felt light headed but now there was a sense of finality. As if she'd finally done it.

    ... Done what? she asked through the haze, looking down at the sword she held in her lap with her bottle of alcohol in her other hand.
     
  5. The book was boring.

    Well, boring perhaps wasn't the right word. There was plenty of action, there was romance, and it was connected somewhat coherently. It was predictable though. The good guy would end up with the girl, while the seemingly invincible evil guy would do something to defeat himself in the end.

    Patrick yawned and laid the book on the nightstand beside his bed. Real people would never act like those characters anyway. In truth, there was no real good or bad, just shades of gray and different viewpoints. In the end, everyone was forced to live together one way or another, so you either came to a compromise, or spent the rest of your days fighting everyone who disagreed.

    Patrick groaned as he got up from the bed. He'd rather waste his time away on his bed, but he still had to do groceries, and the book couldn't keep his attention anyway. Stretching once, he scratched his inner thigh before reaching for the jacket that hung besides the door.

    "Master...Come..."

    He very nearly stumbled. He shook his head, but the 'voice' persisted. "Aww shit, I've finally lost it." Patrick thought, as a mind-numbing headache slowly crept into his skull. He decided to ignore both voice and headache and go to the grocery store to get his weekend shopping done...

    Ten minutes later he found himself under a specific tree, reaching for a pair of weird looking gloves amidst a seemingly misplaced collection of weapons. The gloves were meant to be weapons as well, that much was apparent by their appearance. As if entranced, Patrick undid the knot that tied the two laces together and slid his hands inside the supple leather weapons, wrapping the laces around his wrist so they would not easily come off.

    Turning around he finally took note of the girl sitting next to the three, holding a sword in her lap. Trying to make sense of the whole situation, Patrick could only think of one thing to say.

    "Eh...are these yours?"
     
  6. 3:59 PM.

    Skye slid her phone closed and scanned the crowd around her once again. She was standing at the corner of a busy street and had been for the past ten minutes. He's not late... yet. But knowing his track record, maybe she should ha--

    "Skye! Hey, Skye!"

    A loud buoyant voice interrupted her train of thoughts and she whirled around, smile growing. "Heyy! What's going on, Matt? On time! I'm so flattered!" she teased him playfully, punching him in the arm in greeting.

    "Weeeelllllll... Didn't want to keep you waiting, is all," Matt replied easily, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "After all, I asked for your support for this very important interview."

    "And are you going to fill me in on what interview this might be?" she asked him. It wasn't like Matt at all to be so secretive, and so she assumed it was something big.

    She scrutinized his face, looking for clues. Didn't look like he was going to spill though. He was wearing his enigmatic expression, "Ahh, you'll see, Skye. It's good, I promise you."

    "Ohhh, I see. Keeping secrets from me, now? How in the world were you able to practice without me?"

    "Skye, Skye, Skye! The world does not revolve around you, okay?"

    There was a tightness creeping around the back of her eyes. Migraine? It had been hanging around her for the whole day, on and off. Slight headache that came and went. She'd taken painkillers earlier but now... She frowned, feeling the pounding feeling growing stronger....

    Matt was apologizing now, mistaking the reason for her frown. She heard him faintly from beyond the haze of pain and pounding blood.

    "Hey! Just kidding! Don't get mad at me now. It'll be a good surprise--"

    'Ma... ster...'

    Her hand snaked out, grabbed Matt by the arm, "What did you just call me?" Not hearing a reply, she raised her eyes, meeting his confused expression.

    "...Skye? Are you... alright?"

    No, it wasn't him. The voice had been slightly uncertain, low and dark, unlike Matt's loud confidence. She straightened suddenly and took a few steps forward. "Hey, Skye...?"

    The sound of Matt's voice made her turn around. "I.. I think I gotta go..." The pounding was getting worse. But one thing was clear: she could not stay here. She stumbled forward, ignoring all else. What is going on?

    The park.

    That's where she finally stopped. The light was bright... so bright. It was coming off the tree. No, wait. There was something in the tree that reflected the sun. She stepped forward, almost daintily, and walked into the shade of the tree. The pounding in her head subsided.

    A look around revealed a girl with a sword and another with strange gloves. She looked up, eyes meeting the lethal end of sharp, deadly knives. Without thinking, she reached up and took them from the tree; all at once feeling the sense of completing a monumental task.
     
  7. "Eh...are these yours?"

    Through the strange, light-headed feeling, Fei realized there were two other people here and one of them was talking to her. Eh, perhaps this was a good time to swear off drinking. She squinted again. The guy looked around her age, maybe a bit younger, short blonde hair, and the color of his eyes she couldn't see. She shook her head at the gloves he was wearing. No, they weren't hers.

    And the sword in her lap? Hers ... in a way? None of this made any sense.

    Someone else arrived, another girl with a pair of knives. Had Fei been the tiniest bit more sober, she may have wondered what kind of tree this was to have weapons in its branches. As it was, her attention was more on the sword she'd taken and the "voice" that had been in her head. Or it might have been the alcohol ...

    Fei stood and abandoned the bottle on the ground so she could place her hand against the trunk of the tree for support. She spread her legs slightly to give her more balance and held up the sword in its sheath as if staring at it so hard would cause it to reveal its secrets.
     
  8. While the tree came into view, Luther could also see three others - a man and two women. His eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses, an eyebrow also raising as he examined them. He hadn't been outside of the city very often because he knew there was nothing out here... So what were their reasons?

    'Great...' He thought to himself, loosening his scarf before he came to a stop by the group.

    With an emotionless expression, Luther looked up at the tree and spotted a rather unusual sword hiding in the leaves and branches. He chortled, hastily gripping its hilt and looking to the other three,

    "Did the museum get stolen from and this is where the thieves stashed it?"

    Soon as his question was over, the sword in his hand started to glow. One by one, each and every one of the weapons were emitting their own colour. For some reason, he couldn't drop the sword so he could back up.

    "The hell?" He muttered.

    With wide eyes, he watched the spiky glove-like objects in the other male's possession burst into an explosion of pink light.

    Standing there behind Patrick was a woman appearing to be in her late teens who was dressed in armour, her hair extremely long and hot pink. Her arms stretched out, a very loud sound of relief flying from her throat. Without warning, her outstretched arms wrapped tightly around Patrick, her cheek pressing against his.

    "I've lost track of the years I've been trapped like that! You're my hero, Patrick!"

    She excitedly put a series of kisses all over his face, continuing to cling to him when she finished to say,

    "My brother and my sisters - Our time's finally come..."

    The mysterious woman trailed off as she looked at her surroundings. There were tall buildings in the distance and these humans dressed oddly...


    Luther wanted to keep his cool as he always could. He nervously bit his bottom lip, still trying to drop his weapon. After just witnessing what happened to the other man, he didn't want the same to happen to him. Not today.

    'This was not on my birthday wish list!'
     
  9. [size=-2]
    A slender man with dark hair and a darker expression appeared behind Skye, his head tilted slightly to the side. He was dressed in close-fitting black material, a black mask hanging loosely around his neck and a black hood ruffling his black hair near the back.

    "Well, well..." he eyed Skye, trying to ignore his exuberant sister. He shook his head, exhaling sharply. "You're too excited," he said finally, eyeing the rest of the humans standing about and awaiting the appearance of the rest of his siblings.

    [/size]​
     
  10. The sword in Fei's lap pulsed faintly, then twisted suddenly, somehow flowing into the space next to the drunk girl without ever moving. Its form dissolved, becoming an amorphous cloud that quickly resolved itself into a man wearing a black medieval riding coat. He glanced around for a moment and his clothing morphed into dark jeans, a black T-shirt, and a trench coat.

    "I hate to agree with Maurius, Lydia, but you're scaring your 'master,'" he said, managing a disdainful drawl on the word "master." He looked down at Fei. "Fei Yen," he said in a slightly more cheerful voice. "A pleasure to meet you."
     
  11. Luther's sword disappeared rather quickly, replaced by another girl.

    Unlike her sister, this one stood straight in front of her master. She held her hands folded over one another in front of her, not wanting to abandon politeness.
    "Hello, master..."
     
  12. "Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap, holy crap"

    At first blood rushed to Patrick's face. A girl was holding him! A girl! HIM! And she...She had kissed him all over his face too! What should he do!? Should he turn around and greet her? maybe kiss her back? Or perhaps that would be seen as taking advantage...maybe he should keep his distance for now? She looked lovely, but....why was she wearing armor? Wait...She had said something. Something about being trapped. Something about Patrick being a hero. She knew his name! How!?

    As realization dawned on him all color drained from his face, making it as white as it had been red before. He must be going insane, there could be no other explanation, he must have finally gone off the deep end. His loneliness and hero complex had finally caught up to him, or maybe he had fallen and bumped his head earlier?

    Then another thought came to him. Of course!

    Patrick sighed of relief when he remembered the book he had been reading. Obviously he had fallen asleep while reading it, and had placed himself in the role of the hero trying to rescue the maiden from captivity. This was clearly the good part of the story, where he had finally rescued the damsel in distress and shared a good time with his companions before the book ended.

    Yes, the more he thought about it, the more it seemed that this was one of those lucid dreams, and he could do anything he wanted, with little to no consequence. Anything!

    With a silly grin Patrick turned toward the 'damsel' and wrapped his arms around her neck. Almost not believing how great this dream turned out to be, he gently leaned in to kiss her....
     
  13. One moment she was holding the sword, the next it was gone ...

    And then people appeared out of seemingly nowhere and someone was talking about being "set free" and calling out her "brothers and sisters" ...

    Fei put a hand to her head and let out a deep breath. "I picked the wrong day to decide to drink," she muttered to herself. She turned to look for the bottle--not even having noticed the cloud the sword had dissolved into--until--

    "I hate to agree with Maurius, Lydia, but you're scaring your 'master. Fei Yen. A pleasure to meet you."

    The voice came a little too close to comfort, causing Fei to do something she rarely did and didn't like to do; she jumped. She hadn't moved but when she turned and found a guy in black right beside her, she shied away a step and a half.

    "Personal space, buddy," Fei said. Her foot nudged the bottle of alcohol but she forgot all about it. Instead, she looked up at the guy and raised an eyebrow. Wait, he'd used her name but she'd never met him before ... had she? "... Who the hell are you?"
     
  14. Not against starting it in Hyland myself
     
  15. "Very well, Luther. Yet your expression tells me you do not quite grasp what is happening here."

    "Luther, we are weapons. We were made to unfailingly carry out the will of our wielders, be it as their blades and fists or as their aides. We were made to serve our masters unquestioningly, in whatever they would ask us to do. I am to be your slave and your partner, aiding you in whatever you may undertake and unfailingly submitting to your will."

    "Also, can I please call you master? Pretty please?"
     

  16. "Could you tell me where I am?"

    "wha-what do you mean? you don't know where you are?"

    Patrick thought about this for a moment. He never had someone ask where they were in his dreams before. If anyone ever asked where they were, it was him. Could it be that he had still lost his mind?

    The girl hadn't protested against the kiss, so there was still something to be said for the dream theory. On the other hand, she did seem confused, and had certain expectations towards Patrick people in dreams usually never had.
    Another thing occurred to him as his mind caught up with what she had said.

    "Master? but...I was your hero, how can I be your master? does that mean you are a slave? And...what did you expect me to be like? How did you know to have expectations?"

    Patrick suddenly let go of her, as if burned. This was all too weird, and it didn't go quite as he wanted to. His headache, which had subsided for a while, started to push against his temples again as he tried to make sense of this...weird dream. Turning red once more at the mere notion that it could be real. He looked at the girl in front of him, ignoring the other apparitions for now.

    "W-we are in Detroit, Michigan. Were...in the States, of course." With a deep breath Patrick tried to calm himself. Obviously she was lost, and he had to help her, as his parents had taught him.

    "...Th-this...This isn't really a dream...is it?"
     
  17. Detorqueo glanced at Fei's antics in quiet amusement. He was certain he'd never had so skittish a Wielder before. He turned to face her full-on with a quick pivoting motion.

    "Fei Yen Valeria Talbot," he drawled, "I am Detorqueo, and I am, and will likely be for the foreseeable future, your blade. And, should you wish it, your companion."

    Offering no further explanation - if she was too dense to figure it out, then so be it - he turned back to watch Lydia and her master. The man was as clueless as his own Wielder, and Lydia wasn't helping matters. Clearing his throat, Detorqueo addressed the man - Patrick.

    "No. It is most certainly not a dream. The calm before the storm, perhaps." One quick stride and he was standing directly next to the Patrick. He reached up and grabbed the man's hair, yanking his head down so that he could look the taller man in the eye. "I'm rather fond of my sister," he said conversationally, a savage, inhuman snarl hidden behind the thin veneer of his words.

    Threat - or perhaps it was advice - delivered, Detorqueo ambled back to where he'd left Fei, snagging her bottle of alcohol casually and taking a swig. He looked briefly at it, mumbled something that might well have been "I'm partial to rum, but this'll do," and took up a position just behind Fei's right shoulder. Whether she liked it or not.
     
  18. It took Fei a few minutes to realize Detorqueo had stolen her bottle. She was still in shock about ... everything, not to mention him walking over to that guy, Patrick, and threatening him. Not that she minded him breaking up the "love fest" he and the girl were having. She could do without the romantic crap.

    Fei crossed her arms. She'd already realized she wasn't as drunk as she'd first thought but now ... now she had to contend with a headache shoving itself through her light headedness. Ah, the joys of living. How the hell was she kidding, she could use another drink.

    That was when Fei finally looked around and turned to find Detorqueo with it. "If you'd be so kind ..." she muttered, reaching for the bottle. She would've told him to go buy his own had it not been for the fact that she was pretty damn sure a living sword did not have cash on him.
     
  19. What in the world was going on...?

    Skye was, at this point, totally bewildered. She did, however, know two things: one, people were appearing out of nowhere, dressed in weird clothing and two, she was pretty damn sure she wanted nothing to do with this weird party. Maybe they were shooting some kind of movie? Like those elaborate pranks? She hadn't ever aspired to be on television anyway.

    Turning ‘round, she started to slip away. Back to sanity, back to somewhere normal again.
     
  20. [size=-2]

    Marius rolled his eyes. Just what he needed, to be stuck with a maladjusted human female who was too poor at adapting to try to grasp the situation. Following the girl with a grim look on his dace, he felt the inescapable tug. He was stuck with her all right.

    "I really have no desire to explain this to you, but I'm bound to follow you. Stay with the group and understand or be stuck in this and never have a clue. You're not getting out of it either way, princess, might as well stick with the chatty blades and hope they decide that you're worth helping out."

    Working with people who simply refused to adjust annoyed him. What a miserable assassin she would be, so stubborn and narrowminded. An assassin needed to be calculating, analytic. He could not respect her, notnow anyway.
    [/size]