D
Desaecula
Guest
Original poster
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Ex=Pyre was the newest Metal-techno group on the scene. For the past six months their lead singer, E.Z. (short for Ezekiel) had been swooning one venue boss after another setting up meeting for their manager to get them 'in' at the best joints on the east coast. It was working. And THAT was the problem. See, E.Z. had a secret. Though he loved to sing, and his band mates and him made SWEET music…he had a job long before this. A job that was VERY well paying, and just dangerous enough to be worth it. E.Z. was a treasure hunter of sorts, and his assassin-like skills were the stuff of a legend named the SILVER SHADOW.
It was late, or should I say EARLY on a Sunday morning, E.Z. was enjoying a drink ( water and lemon juice) after the long concert and was waiting for the others to pack up and get the equipment in the van. They did so, and E.Z. was left there to give the manager a ride home on his bike.
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"Why is it always me who gets stuck with miss sunshine?" he sighed, rubbing an ice cube on the back of his neck gently. The tingling sensation sent over his body was exactly the release he needed to get that pumping bass out of his eardrums. He wore a long flowing white trench coat with a hood and rave-style clothes beneath it with his trademark medieval mid calf boots.
"She better hurry up and get the cash for the night from that prick, or I'm leaving without her." He said aloud, pulling out a throat drop from his coat and rattling his motorcycle keys out of the same pocket.
Ex=Pyre was the newest Metal-techno group on the scene. For the past six months their lead singer, E.Z. (short for Ezekiel) had been swooning one venue boss after another setting up meeting for their manager to get them 'in' at the best joints on the east coast. It was working. And THAT was the problem. See, E.Z. had a secret. Though he loved to sing, and his band mates and him made SWEET music…he had a job long before this. A job that was VERY well paying, and just dangerous enough to be worth it. E.Z. was a treasure hunter of sorts, and his assassin-like skills were the stuff of a legend named the SILVER SHADOW.
It was late, or should I say EARLY on a Sunday morning, E.Z. was enjoying a drink ( water and lemon juice) after the long concert and was waiting for the others to pack up and get the equipment in the van. They did so, and E.Z. was left there to give the manager a ride home on his bike.
<o:p> </o:p>
"Why is it always me who gets stuck with miss sunshine?" he sighed, rubbing an ice cube on the back of his neck gently. The tingling sensation sent over his body was exactly the release he needed to get that pumping bass out of his eardrums. He wore a long flowing white trench coat with a hood and rave-style clothes beneath it with his trademark medieval mid calf boots.
"She better hurry up and get the cash for the night from that prick, or I'm leaving without her." He said aloud, pulling out a throat drop from his coat and rattling his motorcycle keys out of the same pocket.