Karma

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by ~Nora.Inu~, Apr 30, 2012.

  1. Sedric Reddins looked out his window of his brand new, and very pricey, apartment. It had come fully furnished with lavish furniture. He glanced back around his apartment, enjoying the sight. Moving away from the window and over to the couch, he checked the security cameras, which he now controlled, just to see in anyone suspicious had entered in the last five minutes. When he figured he was green for go, he shut off his control and moved to viewing his bank account. He had it set up under a fake name, one of many, and currently had a massive amount of money in it. He probably would have drawn suspicion, but he deposited the money at separate times. Right about now, some lard ass rich bastard, as he would have put in his own words, was wondering where his money was. Sedric smirked at the idea, then shut down his computer, going into the kitchen and getting a yogurt out of fridge. He turned on his radio, brushing his dark, chocolate brown hair out of his bright green eyes. He chuckled when he heard the radio host talking about thongs. Slacker and Steve certainly had interesting OPP's sent in.

    As he paced around his apartment, checking to make sure his security system was in place, he continuously glanced at the window, as if expecting the magnificent view of the whole east side of town to change. It never did though, much to the con's dismay.
     
  2. Lance checked the apartment number again and again. He had done background checks, school records, demographics, everything. From what he had gathered, Sedric Reddins was just your ordinary paranoid thief. High SAT scores suggested that the guy was a subtle genius of sorts, not unlike himself. He was terribly gifted like that, which may have been the reason why he got into the assassination business in the first place.

    People and their interactions with others were simple to him, a mathematical equation that hardly ever strayed outside a set of variables. Subtle variants such as body language, the way someone's eyes shifted when they were nervous, the childhood experiences, genetics, the quick swipe of a tongue across the lips to say that they were still thinking. Everything was part of a larger equation, and fear narrowed that equation. When people were cornered, they often became stunned, frozen in place as surely as if they had become a statue themselves.

    Today, to Lance, opening the apartment door with a credit card was just another day, as simple as an old man opening his shop for anxious customers. It was force of habit, his life. His large, meaty hands opened the door, the knob cool to his touch. The door creaked, as all newly installed doors do. The stained pseudo-oriental carpet muffled the heavy drop of weight from his boots to the floor and also masked the creaking and complaining of the older wooden floors. This place had history, and now, Lance was about to make more of it. This place would be famous for what happened here. Lance was a professional, and he was going to make Sedric's death look like a freak accident. The more insane the story, the more likely the cops were to ignore it. From Sedric's history, a drug overdose was not uncommon. Paranoia and drugs went hand in hand.

    Lance stopped dead in his tracks, noticing a camera out of the corner of his eye. Playing the part, Lance purposefully dropped a ring of keys, the sound making a heavier 'thud' on the ground than his boots. He groaned and stooped down to pick up the keys, taking into account the layout. There were three cameras on this level, and the mailbox had listed his Mr. Reddins to be on the upper floor. Lance immediately found the elevator and walked into the grungy death machine. If there was anything that he hated most in the world, it was elevators. Unreliable and dangerous, he hadn't been able to get the scene from Mission Impossible out of his head since he was a kid. Movies had ruined his opinion on this invention forever. But, none the less, he pressed the button for the floor directly below Mr. Reddin's room. The elevator doors closed, and he put his hands in his pockets, staring at his own reflection in the mirrored ceiling. The music was worse than elevator music, a white noise from the radio being broken that caught short snips of a radio station for too short of seconds. The elevator rattled and groaned, intensifying Lance's fear of elevators, as it came to a stop to his floor.
     
  3. Sedric watched out the window until he got an odd feeling in his stomach. He ignored it, changing his clothes and cleaning up his previous snack. Finally he gave in, booting up the computer. The Window's 7 icon appeared and he drummed his fingers, mentally urging the machine to go faster. He sighed once everything was loaded, then took over the buildings server. He searched on all the cameras until he came to the one in the elevator. He got up, pulling out many files, all with pictures and short bios of all tenants living in the same building. He scanned the mans face as best he could from the angle his camera was at, looking through all the pictures.
    "He's new," Sedric mumbled, turning the camera to see what floor he was going to. It was directly under where Sedric was. He thought over all possible conclusions. The brown haired man finally decided it would be best for him to leave his room for now, just in case. Then, after some more careful consideration, he decided to stall the elevators. He carefully waited a moment, finally stalling the doors when the man reached his floor.

    After easing his worries for at least a few minutes, he collected his laptop, spare cash, ate an other yogurt, and then slipped on his shoes.
    "Probably nothing, but I don't really want to die today," he mumbled, knowing he was a bit overly paranoid, but he couldn't change that fact. It kept him safe, especially in his... "line of work". He quickly left, locking the door behind him and walking down the hallway to a vacant suite, unlocking the door with the key he had stolen, then walking in and proceeding to lock the numerous locks he had put on the door.
     
  4. There was movement above him. His target was on the move, so therefore, so was Lance. Lance had officially lost the luxury of making it seem like an accident.
    "Son of a..." he hissed, bolting to the stairs.
    Lance hadn't brought a gun because he disliked them. They were so impersonal and the target was often splattered across a wall if he shot them wrong. All he had today was a rope and a pointy knife to work with. His legs burned from the sudden movement. He was like a mouse dashing across an open floor to get to a good stash of food. He climbed up the stairs, his boots making too much noise, but he didn't draw his weapon yet. There was a slight, very slight chance, that his target was just going out to get some lunch or something. As he rounded the top of the stairs, he saw his target. A spoon hug out of his mouth as he ate the yogurt in one hand, a set of keys in the other. He was fiddling with the lock of another room.

    'This guy rented out two rooms? I don't remember seeing his name twice on the mailboxes... Wow, he's paranoid!
    ' Lance thought to himself.

    "Hey! Hold on a second! Are you the landlord here?" Lance pretended to be out of breath as he called to the target, playing the part nicely, "I saw your...." gasp, wheeze, "Sign in the paper..." Gasp Gasp Gasp, "Which apartment is available?"

    'That's right, Lance, play the part of a disorganized slob. Make him believe you.
    ' he thought to himself, slyly, his thoughts not showing up on his face.

    All this man would see was a hard-working American, down on his luck. Lance had made sure of that. He stained some of his oldest pairs of jeans with oil and torn them up a bit. His stained wife beater underneath his sawdust-covered flannel button down shirt was the epitome of the American man. At this moment, he wasn't Lance at all, but your ordinary John Doe American, or if they asked, Neal Armstrong. He would explain that it was a stupid occurrence. His mother had mixed alcohol with morphine, and it had all went downhill from there with his name. Neal's step-father was a carpenter. His real father left him before he was born. His sister was a mute. He was going through his first divorce.... Yadda Yadda Yadda. Weaving a story from nothing was nothing. It was luring his prey into a secluded spot that he was more concerned about. It was the middle of the day, timed to be around lunchtime to make it seem like Neal had even less time than he claimed. Perfect planning, perfect timing.
     
  5. Sedric had the door halfway shut, ready to slam it if need be. The man was able to explain everything, even why he hadn't been seen around here, by Sedric had a bad feeling. He eyed the man up and down, remaining silent for a while. He took the spoon out of his mouth and tossed it behind him carelessly, along with the yogurt cup, which he would clean up later.
    "Sorry, wrong person. Go away," he said curtly, then proceeded to shut the door and lock it. All that could be heard was the sound of at least ten large locks clicked shut all the way up the door, leaving Sedric trapped, but feeling safe, inside. He backed away from the door, collecting a large wad of cash from in the closet, which he stuffed into his bag. Then he quietly opened the window, looked around, then went back out to the fire escape, moving silently but quickly down the stairs.
     
  6. Lance dropped to the floor, peeking underneath the door. Seeing the man's feet under the door, he watched as the man moved towards the window.
    "Hell to the no...." Lance whispered to himself as he launched himself up from the floor and running towards the stairs. Fuck the elevator, he had to get moving! He pulled out the knife on his belt and dashed down a few flights of stairs. His meal ticket was getting away... He bumped into the landlord on the way out, cursing.
    'There goes my cover story.' he thought to himself
     
  7. Sedric rushed down the metal stairs, not bothering to be quiet. The man was out to kill, he was certain of it. He was certain of this a lot of times, but now he was absolute. He pushed down the ladder, practically sliding down as he finally got to the alley way. He ran out to the side walk, looking both ways, dashing across the street, then away from the building, constantly checking behind him as he dodged the people.
     
  8. Lance stepped outside, stopping only for a moment to gain his bearings in this insane place. He wasn't on the fire escape any more, as Lance had hoped, so Lance had to actually pay attention to his surroundings. So far, he had been kind, gentle, lazy even. But no more. He couldn't lose this target, he refused. Closing his eyes for only a moment, his fingers loosened on his knife. All at once, it was as if the world stood still. Every smell, sound, and feeling heightened to the point of insanity. An overwhelming feeling, so close to panic that it was a wonder he didn't go into a killing spree. The smell of perspiration swam in the air, choking out any pleasant smells. Lance's knife slipped again, the hilt on his fingertips. People were upset somewhere close, the voice of an upset woman who had been pushed rang in his ears like an annoying fly. That is where he started.

    Lance opened his eyes, now completely covered by his pupil. He grabbed his knife, ready to be the best mugger this world has ever known. He stepped again, this time, a calm front long gone. He opened his shirt in the hot day, pretty girls casting dirty glances between fear and adoration his way. But that didn't matter, didn't even register to him at this time. They were on a different level than him, a different species, until he had completed his job.

    At the thought of what he was about to do, he became excited, almost to a sexual point. The thought of how his knife would cut so easily past clothes, flesh, and bone without discrimination was intoxicating. A swirl of hungry emotions caught in his eyes. The young people of this city would mistake it as a man eager for a piece of ass. But the older people on the street, who had been around gangs at the wrong time before recognized it as that sickly sweet madness you could only achieve with a hidden weapon. Either party knew to get out of his way, and that this was not going to end well.
     
  9. Sedric only ran, his heart pounding as he raced down the street, passing block after block. He had to get away. He was sweating only slightly at this point as he checked back. No sign of his assailant. Maybe he could slow down just a little... No. Not yet. He had to get more distance. He swallowed hard as he raced off, finally rushing into a fairly empty coffee shop. He took only a few seconds to catch his breath before going to the back room, out the back door, ignoring the shouts he received from the workers. He found himself in an alleyway, looking around he found another fire escape. Over the years, he had learned that city roofs, being as close together as they were, and fire escapes were your friends. They could save your life.

    He jumped up, gripping the ladder and pulling it down. He climbed up quickly, running up the stairs and to the roof. Once he was safely behind a metal object, he took a moment to breath. Just a single moment though, before he was up on his feet again, going back and getting a running start so he could jump to the next roof. Here, the ledges were higher, and he gripped one, his body hitting the brick.
    "Shit!" he yelped as he tugged himself up, hiding behind the high ledge. He felt safer here, but the man was probably still searching for him.
     
  10. Lance scanned the area, moving with the crowd to avoid attention. His gait was heavy though, and the excitement of the chase couldn't be masked under his creepy smile. He hadn't been challenged like this in quite some time. It was enthralling. His sanity teetered on the brink, ready to cut people out of his way instead of push them, just for the ecstasy of a kill. But no, he had to kill only one to feel that. He saw something out of the ordinary, a man scrambling up a fire escape. Not just any man, his man. He slipped out a throwing knife and threw it directly at little Sedric. All he needed was a cut, that sweet smell of blood to follow, to taste. He didn't wait for the blade to hit, he simply started shoving people out of the way, eager to catch his pretty little bird between his claws.

    "You've given me something to look forward to, my little bird," he said to himself, a crazed laugh behind every word.
     
  11. Sedric heard the knife and moved just in time, the blade only just cutting his arm. He looked over, seeing his assailant. Time to get a move on. He jumped to his feet and looked for a good place to jump. Once he found it, he was on the next roof in no time, scrambling. Going from roof to roof was difficult, and it was safer before. However, now that the man found him, he had to get to the ground with all the civilians. The man wouldn't dare attack there, or he would risk to many witnesses and a lot of 911 calls. Sedric found another fire escape and it was like a blessing from god to see that they alley way wasn't a dead end. He jumped down three stairs at a time, landing on the ground in a minute flat, then running out to the street. When he was mixed in a large crowd of people, he ducked his head down slightly to hide among the tall people, hoping he wouldn't be as easily spotted.
     
  12. Lance knew that he had him when he dropped back into the crowd.
    'the fool thinks I won't kill him in public... There's a lot of people here, Sedric...'
    Lance quickened his pace, not bothering to be polite any more. As he got closer, Lance became more and more cautious though. Five steps away... Four steps.... Three... Two... Lance's arm shot out, grabbing the man's arm. Lance was no longer in the mood for a chase, but his knife had been lost to the city, so he would have to do this another way. Lance yanked the boy back, despite how he struggled. Lance's scent was overpowering, the smell of spicy, overused cologne poured out from within his skin. Lance's arm wrapped around the boy's neck, easily mistaken for brotherly love on the street, pulling the boy too close to his broad chest. Lance's intense heartbeat could be felt through the fabric, through muscle, and through bone; the cadence of the chase coming to a close was unmistakable. Lance's hot breath echoed in the boy's ear as he spoke.

    "Hold still or I will sink a knife into your gut and you'll be picking up your intestines from the ground," he bluffed.
     
  13. Sedric yelped as he was pulled back. He scratched and clawed at the man's arm with his untrimmed, jagged nails that he had bitten down. He struggled relentlessly, desperately trying to break free off the assassins vice like grip. He could hear the heart beat, and it seemed like his own hearts rapid beating could not drown out the man's.

    The next words that were spoken echoed in his ear, making him stop and get dragged along. The man said it in such a violent way, that Sedric had the feeling he was lying through his teeth, but he couldn't take that chance. He looked around, quickly analyzing his surrounding so he could run at his next chance. This man was incredibly violent, and the fact that he hadn't given up the chase proved he would not make it a slow death.
     
  14. Lance spun Sedric around, guiding him to a cafe, of all places. He knocked a 40 year old man out of the way on his way in. The cafe was covered in art neuvo. The whole global warming thing advertised on every bottle. Lance didn't care much for the look, but the coffee here was nice. He shoved the boy into a booth.

    "Shut up and stay down until a waiter comes over. You've pissed me off enough, but..." Lance growled as he sat down, combing his fingers through his hair, "What was it that gave me away? Was it the boots? It was the boots, wasn't it?"
     
  15. Sedric sat obediently at the table. He immediately surveyed his surroundings, finding every exit and knowing who and where they sat. Just a little paranoid, and his senses were heightened as he looked for any opportunity to get out of there. He help his bag close to him.
    "No, it wasn't your boots. It's the fact that I'm not an ignorant fool. Firstly, and most importantly, my picture is no where on any bill boards or anything. Secondly, the landlord doesn't live there. He has a mansion in Dove Valley Estates. Thirdly, you walked right to elevator. You knew where you were going and what you were after, you didn't stop to talk to the man at the front desk. Even if you were there visiting friends or family, you still would have stopped to make sure you're address was right or something, but you didn't want the attention drawn to yourself. This isn't my first time, you know. I noticed all the stupid little mistakes you made," he explained as if it where the most obvious thing in the entire world.
     
  16. Lance didn't miss a beat, "So that means that you've tapped into the security systems there. You're a paranoid little bugger, aren't you?"
    Lance leaned forward, his fingers crossed, and hummed into his hands, "Which means that you've stashed a good amount of money you stole from my client between that bag and your apartments which I have seen previously. Gathering it would be as simple as picking up toys after a child."

    Lance grabbed the wrist of a waiter and yanked the server towards himself, "Two cups of coffee, please. Do hurry... I'm a little impatient today."
     
  17. Sedric rolled his eyes.
    "Sorry about my friend, he's just mad because his girlfriend screwed him with a strap on and no lube," he said, glaring pointedly at Lance. He waited for the waiter to leave.
    "I'll bet ten to one you'll never find where I stashed my money. Ever," he said, obviously confident in where he hide it.
    "But, I will give you a hint. I didn't stash it at the apartment, either one. Cross my heart," he said, making a small X over his heart.
    "And why in the hell are you buying me coffee? Do you get how incredibly annoying and stupid you are? Honestly, if you're going to kill me, just do it. Every second you waist is an other second I get to plan my escape, and I guarantee you won't catch me after that," he said, his irritation, annoyance, and confidence was so potent in the air, it could be felt from outside.
     
  18. Lance took Sedric's head in one hand and slammed it down onto the table for his first comment. He made sure not to hit his nose, to avoid causing a scene just yet. It didn't do anything except make Sedric aware of his situation. The waiter dropped the coffees on to the floor and darted away, clearly unsure about Lance's attitude.

    He must be new... Lance thought to himself as another handsome waiter swept the coffee onto the table.

    Eric was a handsome fellow. Lance had talked to him before though, and he knew that he was a little empty between the ears. Too simple for his taste, even if the man did have pretty brown eyes.

    "I am not so sure if killing you is in my best interest at the moment. My employer is willing to pay me well, but I have a feeling that what you have to offer is a little more promising. And besides, I know the people here. They usually appreciate my business." he leaned in to whisper to Sedric, "I tip well."

    Lance leaned back in the booth, enjoying his coffee, "Not that you have any reason to trust me, but... I do believe that you should trade money for your life. I'm not above bribes, you know."

    A pretty blonde stepped up to the table and gave Lance a sweet smile, "Lance! How are you? How's Vince?"

    "He's all right, or he was until last week. He got a bad fever. Nice shoes by the way! But Gina, can this wait until after I'm done with my client? It's a matter of life and death, deadlines.... You know," Lance said, his body language saying that he was completely un-attracted to the beautiful blonde, "Could you bring me some half and half though? The dairy is gonna kill me someday, but I would like to put it off."

    "Sure thing Lance, but who's the cutie?" Gina nearly giggled.

    "Purely business, Gina, but he's most certainly a catch don't ya think? And smart too," Lance played the part of a gossiping friend well, like all of the other roles he was good at.
     
  19. Sedric's eye twitched violently. He was obviously irked at the situation. He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He desperately tried to keep the irritation off his face, literally having to bite him tongue not to say anything. He took some deep breaths and listened to the two talk and chatter about useless nonsense. He had a feeling Lance was only trying to make him feel safe, then drag him into an alleyway and slit his throat. He had to think.

    A) give Lance, whom he saw as an ignoramus, some of his money and then bail as soon as he could
    B) Bail and hope for the best.
    C) try to get arrested here on the spot.

    No, C was not a good plan.
     
  20. Lance picked up his coffee and sipped idly, crossing his legs like a gentleman.

    "I have no problem killing you, Sedric. I'm sure that my employer is willing to part with a few money caches if he can't find them, but there's the thing... I do this for a living, and YOU! OH! You have dug yourself into a hole, my good friend! You stole from one of the richest men in the world and you think he's just gonna let you get away with it," he chuckled as he sipped his coffee again, "No, no, no! He's going to slice you up into so many pieces that he's convinced it makes a stack of human-skin money. I've done it before. Doesn't work out as well as you think. The pieces stick together and slide... It's a big mess."

    He poured some sugar into his drink, "So we have to figure out how to make either me or the big guy kill you. Rather, I should say 'convince me.'"

    He waited a moment, obviously excited by the way that he smiled. It was a fraction of a moment that his demeanor changed. Sedric wasn't that bad looking. Lance could see the way Sedric's bright green eyes swept around the cafe, intelligently not paying attention to Lance's banter and focusing on a way out. Sedric's dark brown hair seemed to frame those eyes better than a picture frame. The slow way Sedric breathed, obviously already weighing his options. Lance wasn't sure if it was life or death that he was more interested in at this moment. Both sounded delicious enough to eat.