Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Ryex, Nov 19, 2010.

  1. Chapter 1: Celleri

    (((OOC) read the prologue and the below post for the initial setting))

    Alexander Corbal surveyed the scene on the streets below through hands cupped into binoculars, His Artist powers warping the air encompassed by them into light bending lenses. He could have done the same without his hands there, but the lenses were harder to make when they were tiny and right next to one’s eyes. So instead he made them larger, moved them out from his eyes and used his hands to limit his view and get rid of the disorienting effect of seeing two different distances at once.

    Jack lay dead in the street two blocks away, Killed by the manifestation of his insanity driven paranoia. It was a loss for his crew but hardly an unbearable one. Jack had been the senior officer in charge of making sure the crew stayed in shape. It was in important position but one that could easily be filled by another.

    It was an annoying and somewhat depressing event for a crew member to go critical. It was a constant reminder of his own eventual fate and then there was the sad necessity to make sure the damage the individual caused was not too great. Hence his presence on the planet; He had intended to stop here and then go down to the surface in the morning and look for skilled deep space pilots. But Jack had gone critical in the middle of the night and Alex had been forced to follow him to the surface.

    Turning away from the edge of the building Alex sank to his haunches on the gravel that was strewn across the top of the Hotel’s service roof. The building was the tallest in Celleri, the Baymore hotel, and had offered the perfect vantage point for tracking Jack in his wild rooftop chance. it wasn't like it had been hard to find where he had gone, Celleri only had one city on the surface and thus only one space port. any other habited location was a mining out post of some sort. “So will that be my fate?” Alex thought to himself thinking of what he had seen bellow.

    “Unlikely, Jack had a paranoid personality before he went insane. He was practically looking around corner for pursuers and potential threats when you met him,” the voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Alex didn’t jump though he was used to it by now. “I wouldn’t worry about it anyway, you’re an inordinately strong artist and you probably won’t go completely insane for another fifteen years at least.” This time the sound seemed to come from his right; a misty form coalesced from the air as Alex turned his head to look at Randal,

    “So says the manifestation of my own insanity.” The tall, dark, mysterious, and ruggedly handsome man that now sat on his hunches beside him was named Randal. The somewhat misty form, decked out in a black waist-length coat and black T-shirt paired with dark brown denim pants and black combat boots, was indeed a manifestation of Alex’s insanity, the only one as far as he knew, but insane was insane as far as Alex was concerned. But that didn’t mean he didn’t talk to Randal. Since his appearance about six years ago Randal had taken on the role of spirit guide and conscious, offering nothing but good advice and console. Like always Randal was right, there was not much use worrying about his fate of insanity or how it would manifest itself. Randle may be a manifestation of insanity but he existed solely in Alex’s head, and would likely stay that way for a goodly number of years yet. It was when he forgot that Randal wasn’t real that he had to worry. “But your right, time to get back to business” rising to his feet Alexander Corbal took a step toward the roof access door signaling the others on the roof to follow him. Closing the roof access door behind them the misty form visible only to Alex faded like smoke into the night air.

    The five others that had been on the roof with him followed Alex down the narrow service hallway which lead to an equally narrow staircase that lead into the much more spacious halls below the penthouse suit. The others had been mostly been silent since he had told them to report to the shuttle bay for transport to the surface. they were all junior members of the crew so it was not surprising that they didn’t feel too comfortable accompanying their captain on what would seem to be an important mission.

    “Captain, may I ask why you asked us to come with you?” one of the more out spoken ones said.

    “Because, I wanted you to know what your fate was; It’s is the fate of every artist after all. And unless you avoid the artist community altogether you will see it happen again before you die. I wanted you to be prepared for it.” It was a sad but necessary truth for all Artists, one that had to be meat head on and overcome. None of these five were over 19 but all of them needed to know what was waiting for them. “Now then, the rest of the night is yours but I want you all back at the shuttle port and ready to leave by 9:00 tomorrow morning that’s when our return flight is scheduled and if you miss it you will have to use your own money to get back to the ship. the five teens and young adults practically jumped at the opportunity to be on their own and were out of his site within ten seconds of the announcement.

    Making his way down to the hotel bar Alex set his mind to the next task on hand, finding a skilled deep space pilot. One who would attempt flight through an area of space riddled with gravity wells. Not an easy task as it turned out. He had been through 16 different solar systems following information that lead to the next solar system and the next each time hoping that the trail would lead him to a pilot of enough skill to fly through one of the many areas in the galaxy that were unexplored.

    On the elevator ride down Alex was alone and took the opportunity to change his clothes. Well perhaps “alter” is a better word. The clothing he was wearing was a nanopolymer polymorphic fabric, capable of altering its shape texture and color at a moment’s notice. The technology had been around for 100’s of years but it hadn’t been cheep to begin with and it never did get much cheaper. As a result not many people knew about it and were often freaked out if they saw it in action. The fabric was mostly restricted to the wealthy until they could come up with a cheaper way to make it. Tapping a small unnoticeable depression in his waistband the fabric on his left arm morphed into a screen. Controlling the screen with his fingers he selected his more casual surface clothes. In moments his standard ship suite had become button down shirt and over coat and black slacks, all in a near perfect imitation of woven cotton with the added bonus that it didn’t stain like the real thing would. Taking a quick look in the mirror ceiling, placed to relieve claustrophobia, reviled a tall high class with slightly curly ear length dark brown hair and a short beard growing on his chin. A respectable figure. Stepping out of the elevator in the lobby Alexander Corbal crossed the hall into the bar and began chasseing information through the upper class snobs that occupied it.
  2. <style type="text/css">p { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }</style> Greg Richardson hadn't seen his father in a long time. He remembered the last time he had seen him, when he first started manifesting his powers. His father wasn't a violent man, but the beating he had given Greg that night because he couldn't comprehend what was happening to his son had been enough for Greg to pack some clothes and run. That was twelve years ago, which made it all the more strange that he had received a message from his father asking him to come to Celleri.

    Greg wasn't paying attention to where he was going, but the shout of “artist!” from several blocks away made him stop in his tracks. Law enforcement would soon be all over the streets; he had to find a place to lay low. But first he had to get some distance from the commotion down the street. He turned quickly. Suddenly pain coursed through his leg, causing him to fall over.

    “Watch where you're going” said the man towering over him. He got up slowly, careful not to put any weight on his left leg. He nodded at the man, showing that he acknowledged him, before slowly limping away. The pain was too much to bear. He hated using his artist powers, but he had to this time. Carefully he thought about a leg brace supported his leg, and then it was there. It didn't completely get rid of the pain, but at least it allowed him to walk without much discomfort.

    “Hey, how come you stopped limping? You some sort of artist?”. He had completely forgotten about the man that had knocked him over. While it would be simple enough to make the man disappear from existence, Greg didn't like acting directly on others; they might be wearing an AATFL and that just complicated things. Still walking away from the man, Greg started manifesting his illusion.

    “Timmy! Get out of the street!” yelled a woman's voice. The man turned his attention from Greg to the street behind him. On the street a little boy was playing with a ball, oblivious to the bus barrelling towards him. Without thinking, the man ran for the boy. He lunged, grabbing air. The boy was gone, and the bus was still coming. The man could only stare as the bus rushed towards him, disappearing a moment before hitting him. He looked around; the man in the brown cloak with the limp was gone.

    Greg smiled. That illusion never failed. He hurried down the alley, mindful to keep up the illusion of a wall at its entrance. He needed a drink badly. As he exited the alley, he looked around. The Baymore hotel. They would have a bar. He took a quick peek behind him to make sure he wasn't being followed. Satisfied, he crossed the street and entered the hotel.
  3. As the seed hit the dirt on the side of the road a light leaning on the cane he held pushed it firmly into the soil. He walked through the city with his head down in loose pants and a hooded jacket with the hood pulled up as far over his face as it could go. He was hunched over, putting most of his weight on the cane thought he didn't need it, his left arm inside his jacket dropping a seed here and there as he moved along. A brief look would make him appear to be a feeble elder man hobbling through town and his short stature aided the disguise. It paid to be cautious because at age nineteen he was already a wanted terrorist. If caught they'd either just shoot him on sight or quickly hang in a public execution to put the populace of planets at ease. He'd returned four cities on four different planets back to their natural state. In one crushing wave on these cities a myriad of dangerous plants had sprang up in an instant, spewing venomous spores and corroding buildings to rubble. Each city had been a masterpiece of natures wrath. Each city had filled him with pure explicity rapturous joy to watch crumble.

    But this, this new city, this city would truly be a monument to his crusade. These seeds would strike fear into the very heart of those who sought to punish him for something out of his control. It would show the galaxy what happens when you rob a boy of his father. Yes, this new plant was a thing of beauty. The poor colony ship he had smuggled himself onto that stumbled upon this organism was a paltry sacrifice to what this city would be. The plant was carnivorous, actively so, it couldn't move from its roots but its multiple heads could reach and strike at a distance. Bearing a paralysis secretion in its 'fangs' and a incredibly strong acid that would dissolve a man into a pasty goo in just a matter of moments than transfer that goo into its sustenance. It grew on average to nine feet tall, of course these ones would be much larger than average, estimating around thirteen to fourteen feet tall with six to eight heads able to reach triple that distance. They would strike at any heat signature they saw and within moments this cities population will be reduced to a fraction of its current. In a week a quarter of the city had been planted with this wonderous plant.

    Course it had been rather slow goings. First he had to walk the city for a few days and find the prime spots for planting for the most carnage possible. He had to walk like a crippled old man to keep his identity hidden and with little money he had to either sneak out of town and grow quick provisions or steal them. But now all that was left to do was plant and plant some more. In another week or so he figured he'd have the city planted enough to grow. As the people took shelter in their homes he'd release the combination of fungi and lichen that would release spores that would latch themselves onto the various buildings. The fungi was strong and would grow on anything making it able to absorb the nutrients of wood used for houses, rapidly decaying them and causing the structures to stumble. Than as the evacuation process begun he'd blend in with the mass panicked idiots and slip aboard another ship, steal it (of course nobody on his ship would survive) and crash it onto a out back planet until he could hitch a ride to another city.

    This planet was such an excellent target for its one space port. Crippling this city would cripple the entire planet and cause rioting and looting and all sorts of catastrophic reactions in the populace. Oh yes, this would be his version of Mozarts great symphony. Where Mozart became famous his infamy would grow even larger. The entire galaxy would soon fear his name and planets would slip into panic at the thought of him being somewhere on their home world. Causing rippling effects that would bring down the tyrannical dictatorship known as a government to the human race.

    Or, at least, that was the plan. For now he hobbled along, dropping a seed here and there and pushing it ever so gently into the ground with his cane. He was nearly completely oblivious to the world around him, so caught up in his current process, that it took a moment for the scream of 'artist' to really penetrate into his mind. For a split second he thought the jig was up and was about to expedite his current plan. Just as quickly he realized the yelling was for some other poor soul and not at him. Poor bastard, he remembered the first time someone pointed a spiteful finger at him and screamed that word like it was blasphemous. His hand clenched tightly onto his cane at the memory. Still, good idea to take a pause in planting and slip off the streets till the commotion settles. Without thinking he slipped into the nearest public door and without looking around knew he stepped into the wrong f'in place.

    "Shit." He muttered very quietly under his breath. As he scanned the room without lifting his head too much and noticed he was in a hotel full of upper class citizens. Definitely not his current disguises sort of people. 'Alright, just breathe and get a room and just act naturally.' He told himself as he made his way towards the hotel keeper. He limped past the entry way to the bar and as he approached the counter he did a bad impression of a bad cough and tried to make his voice as old as possible, "How much for a room?" When the lady gave him the amount he cursed internally. 'Now I'm going to be completely broke.' He pulled what money he had from inside his jacket and placed it on the counter as the lady handed him the room key. He headed towards the elevator and prepared to hide in his new room until he could continue his work.​
  4. [COLOR="#orange"]"HA! you won't find a pilot like that just sitting around mate."[/COLOR] the bar tender slammed the pint Temdeainen Ale down on the counter and slid it over to him. [COLOR="#orange"] "Pilots like that are already employed or in a military. in fact almost all pilots like that are government trained. you won't find one around here"[/COLOR]

    Just like that a trail he had been following for five mouths went cold. Alex wanted to punch something, he wanted to punch something and watch it crumble into dust from the destructive force. it was critical that he got through that area of space and a skilled pilot was the only way.

    out of the corner of his eye Alex caught something, a flash of some sort, was it blue? He turned his head. but did not find what he expected. a multitude of thin silvery blue lines floated through the air, spreading out through the bar and extending out through the walls to what seems like every where in the city. of course he couldn't see them passed the walls of the bar but there was something about them that expressed great length. No one else in the room was able to see them though, the skill that allowed him to was one that manifested itself after time and training and grew with the strength of an artist. Alex spun on his bar stool scanning the room to see if he could spot the source, those lines connected an artist to a creation he was maintaining and any artist that was maintaining creations all over the city was strong. Possibly as strong as Alex himself, any artist that strong he needed to know about.

    There, he spotted the source, a hooded figure with a cane was walking toward the elevator in the lobby, all those lines sprang from him. a sense of dread filled Alex what ever this Artist was up to it was bad, and Alex needed to know what it was, and maybe least put a stop to it. fishing his ID card from his pocket Alex passed it over the display on the counter to pay his tab and got up leaving his ale unfinished. dodging his way though the bar keeping his eyes locked on the hooded figure. as he exited the bar he dashed across the lobby shouting as casually as he could "hold the elevator please!"
  5. Kyra looked around the bar, her soda in one hand. "Can't believe they think I'm 19 years old... Don't help that I don't have a ID..." She thought bitterly. One of her many maifestations, a small white cat, sat on her shoulders, purring. Suddenly, she heard someone cry out and looked. She saw two figures in an elevator. Her eyes landed on a ship captain. She had a sudden flashback and blinked. "I-it couldn't be.... B-brother?" She closed her eyes and flipped up the hood on her jacket. She set the drink down and took a deep breath.

    "Shiroi... Go see what that's about..." Kyra commanded the cat. The small cat jumped off her shoulders and ran into the elevator with the hooded figure. Kyra sighed and played with the straw in her drink. "It couldn't be him... He looks nothing like Brother... But... people can get their faces change now nowadays right? What if..." Her thought seem to ramble on. She shakily took another drink and waited for her cat to return.
  6. Stepping into the elevator he immediately pressed the button for his floor and begin to repeatedly press the close door button. Those things never react as fast as you want so he continued to press it multiple times. As the man shouting for him to hold the elevator he simply pressed it faster and the door started to slide shut. It was nothing against the gentleman but it was the simple rule taught him as a child, don't talk to strangers. Especially don't talk to strangers when you're in the process of bringing ruin to a city. The less people he had interactions with the lower his odds of being revealed before he was completely ready.

    Leaning more on his cane he tried to shift the backpack that formed his hunched back into a more comfortable position. As the man drew closer he muttered to himself, "Close. Close. Close. Close. Cat." Wait a second - cat? Right as the door was nearing closed a cat bolted into the elevator triggering the sensor on the door and causing to re-open. 'Crap, stupid feline.' He thought to himself, 'What kind of cat takes a ride on an elevator?' Good question he thought. It was extremely odd for a cat to hitch ride on an elevator he figured they were more of a stair creature. Looking down at the cat he muttered under his breath, "I'm watching you buddy." As the man stopped closer he shifted back to his old man voice, "Sorry about that youngun, hard of hearing and by the time I figured out what ya said I wasn't sure which button stopped the doors. Lucky for you this cat came along." Just stay calm and cool. Ride the elevator up to the seventh floor and just walk away. Just keep it together for seven floors.​
  7. "Nothing to worry about, friend" Alex said as he crossed the threshold of the elevator, seeing that the seven was back lit Alex reached over and tapped the ten. he didn't want the guy to think was was following him just yet and getting off after him would allow him to stay with him. as the door's the elevator slid closed he gave the old man a closer look and was surprised at what he saw, this man was not old at all. Sure he had the stature of an ageing man but that was easily faked. the tell tails signs of ageing skin was not visible on what little skin he could see, in fact the skin looked youthful. and the man's voice sounded off for an old man too.

    "Now then enough games, your an artist, your maintaining creations all over the city, and your act at an old man is horrible. what are you up too?"
  8. Shiroi, the cat, rubbed against the old man, trying to get him to pick her up. She mewled and meowed at the two men. Kyra sat, tapping her foot. "Wait, I'll play the part of a worried cat owner! That way I can really see if that's him!" she thought, running up the stairs. "Shiroi! Oh Shiroi, where'd you go?" She ran up a bit until the eleavator door opened.

    (Sorry it's so short...)
  9. Greg was almost knocked over by a man rushing out of the bar. "What's his hurry?", he thought. Carefully looking around the bar, Greg picked out the darkest corner and sat down. He needed some time to think about what to do next. He focused on three familiar faces, and suddenly, there they were sitting in the booth next to him.

    "Long time, old friend." said Kara, one of the manifestations. James and Jill, the other two manifestations, simply nodded at Greg in recognition.

    "I'm not sure what to do. I got a letter from my father to come to Celleri, but I haven't spoken to him since I ran. I'm not even sure how he found me." Greg said, nervously tapping his fingers on the table. It had been two years since he had manifested his imaginary friends to give him advice. It was oddly comforting to know that they would always be there for him, even if they weren't strictly real.

    "I know you want to see your father, after the way you left things, but you need to get off this planet, now. It isn't safe here."

    "Don't be ridiculous James, he isn't safe anywhere, not with his condition. He can't keep running away from his problems his whole life, he has to make a stand somewhere otherwise he'll be running forever."

    Greg stood up and went to the bar to grab some drinks. His manifestations usually argued for hours, rarely giving ground to one another. It was always up to him to make a decision. But which should it be, stay here, or run? When Greg returned to the booth, the manifestations were gone, his choice made. He needed to find a way off this planet.
  10. Kyra picked up her cat and ran back into the bar. She panted slightly as her cat disappeared. "Nice work, Shiroi..." she muttered before siting back at her table. She felt a scratch on her leg and looked down. The one animal she hoped to see, Kurai, a black husky.

    "Woof woof!" Kurai barked loudly, waging her tail. Kyra had to smile. One of her memories was of her brother and two dogs, Kurai and Kuro. They were one of her only "connections" to her brother, even if they weren't real.

    "Hey, girl... Where's Kuro? You seen him at all today?" She scratched the dog behind her ear and watched her thump her tail against the floor. Kyra put on her sunglasses and acted blind. She set a harness on Kurai, who was used to this. She ordered another soda and relaxed a bit. Suddenly a black lab tackled her and assaulted her face with licks.

    "Kuro! Get off, ya moron!" She gently pushed the dog off her and smiled. She loved her dogs and all of her manifestation as if they were her actual pets. They could help her with her life-long mission of finding her memories and brother.
  11. It was the day after when Garet had used the formula on himself and still couldn’t believe what had happened. Sitting at the bar with his first un-opened bottle of beer he just sat and stared. “How could this have happened…” as he continued few things happening here and there. Many of these people he had never met before and they all seemed to have stared at him from time to time. Ignoring all the odd looks he had been getting he just continued to sit and think. An hour had passed by and saw a cat walking passed him, followed by two other strange men he had never met before. “Must be heading for the elevator…”

    Finally two hours of sitting and doing nothing he had gotten up and walked out leaving a tip for the bar tender. Garet headed for the elevator, exiting the building and heading down to a secluded area by a pond.

    Once Garet had arrived he started to play around with the water a little “Heh I wasted twelve years of my life trying to invent a cure for this and not a single one worked. Well at the very least I now have something to remember that there is no cure for this damn thing.” Making twirls with his fingers the water followed as well. Having messed with the water for about twenty minutes Garet decided to head back home, crossing that same cat he had seen back in the bar.
  12. Kyra had left the bar and was wandering the streets, aimlessly. Kuro and Kurai had disappeared some time after she left the bar and she was a bit lonely. She walked around until she saw the wolf man she heard rumors about. He looked kinda sad and she kinda knew why. Kyra touched the large intricate scar that ran down from her grey eye and smiled sadly. "Heh... I've had this scar forever and I can't remember a damn thing..." She walked past the intresting man and sighed sadly. "Maybe everything will look up from here on..."
  13. Having seen this cat for a second time maybe was a sign of something, he wasn’t exactly sure what though. He stood staring down at the cat for a second or two then sat down by her and began to make idle chat. Thinking that he could talk to animals now like some kind of super hero from a comic book. “Hey little one my name is Garet… I saw you down at the bar a while ago.” He looked back at the pond and began to smile, his eyes half open. “This is stupid I know I won’t be able to understand you, but I just want to talk to some life form.” He dug a little hole in the ground, using his finger he lifted a little stream of water and placed it into the hole.
    “there you go, look kind of thirsty.” He laughed a little bit and started to talk with the cat. “I was human once, looking back on my life I wish I hadn’t wasted twelve years of my life on inventing a cure for this mutation...”

    a long pause filled the air and a small breeze came by. “Funny I never talked to anyone about that secret, I am sure even if I told one human they would think of me as another freak…” Garet decided to stay by the cat till either she left or he wanted to get something to eat.
  14. Shiroi, the cat meowed happily and drank. She lapped at the water and purred. "This man is nice... Mistress would like him!" she thought, looking at the man. "He is cursed like her... Maybe they're related...?" Shiroi, rubbed against him, smiling as best a cat could.

    Kyra looked at the man, who was giving water to her cat, Shiroi. "Huh...? Shiroi? What are you doing?" She walked over and smiled at the man. "Sorry about her... She's roams around alot..." She picked up the cat and turned to leave. "Oh, and by the way, I don't think you're a freak, you're just like me..." She smiled and started walked away, humming to herself.
  15. Six floors, six floors would've been freedom. Was that too much to ask? Evidently so. Hralag looked up at the lights signaling they were at the second floor. How did this man know what he was? Not only did he see through his disguise but he knew what he really was. Maybe he was bluffing, a random guess by a random officer of some sort. 'Maybe I could just hit him in the nuts with my cane and run like hell.' He thought to himself. No, that probably wouldn't work because of the damn security camera in this elevator. 'Well, I have two options. Tell the man the truth or lie like hell.' But Hralag knew he wasn't a good liar, that's why he kept his contacts on the cities he worked to return to nature to a minimum.

    He couldn't just tell this man what he was up too. He couldn't tell him he was planning on destroying the city by the end of next week. If the man got a good look at his face he might recognize him from wanted ads and bounty hunter postings. He'd just have to stall him for six floors than move out of the elevator and run like hell. Lock himself up in his room, sneak out the window and disappear back into the city. He couldn't be caught now, not now, he was so close. If worst came to be he'd just expedite the plan. Unfortunately that wouldn't guarantee destruction of the entire city, only a good part.

    In the end, the best response he could come up, slipped out in an uneasy questioning manner, "Um, no?"​
  16. Garet feels the cat rub against him and pets her a little. He continues to watch the pond as time passes by, he zones out a little but is alerted by a sound. It was a young lady shorter and judging by her looks she was younger. The women spoke and as soon as she was done she walked away. “Uh wait, ah!” tripping and staggering to stand up “what? Where did she go? And what did she mean by like me?” Garet alone again had just stood there for a few seconds staring dead a head the way the lady had walked off. “… Ah well maybe I will see her again” silence had filled the air but soon after a growl let out. It was Garets stomach, holing his stomach from the pain of hunger he began to walk back into the city.

    It was about five o’clock when he made it to a near by eating establishment. Just before he walked in a boy and his mother walked out. The boy asking his mother “Mommy are artists dangerous?” the mother stopped “Well Keith all artists are bad people, I hear they go insane after a while. So what ever you do don’t go near anyone who might be an artist.” Garet walked in quickly before he could hear another word, while inside he looked in his pocket to see how much he had. “Hmm 30 dollars…” Displeased by what he had walked down to McDan’s for a quick burger.

    Waiting in line he had seen one of his old friends from high school, Lucas Heming. Garet approached Lucas “Well if it isn’t Lucas Heming.”
    “I know that voice!” he turned around “Long time… no see? The hell happened to you?”
    “Long story Lucas why don’t we get something to eat and we can talk.” Both getting their meals headed to a table to eat and have the long conversation. “Alright where to begin… Well this is what happened” after about an hour of talking and eating Garet had finished his story. “Alright so in a nutshell you were testing a medicine for twelve years and this last attempt had this permanent effect of genetically altering parts of your DNA or what not?”
    “Yeah kind of hard to believe but that’s what happened, it isn’t actually half bad I feel warm rather than cold all the time.” Smiling Garet stood up and threw out his garbage “Sorry that I can’t stay here any longer Lucas I have to go.”
    “Well it was nice seeing you again Garet I should be heading back as well.” Saying their last farewells the both of them parted ways from the food court. Garet had begun walking home un-knowingly something big is about to unfold

    It took him a while but Garte finally made it home. He pulled out his keys opened the door, turned around and saw Lucas at the edge of his walkway. “Lucas what are you doing it’s late. Go back to your own home.”
    “Garet we’re friends aren’t we? Why don’t you let me in?” Lucas said in a voice that had sent chills down Garets spine. “No not now I need to sleep and…”
    “Hey! Don’t think I don’t know… You’re an artist ah, heh, he, ha, haaa” Garet was shocked that Lucas knew his secret. “If I turn you into the police I can get a big reward.”
    “What the... Lucas what’s wrong with you?” Lucas pulled out a Knife with the words carved into the handle ‘Kill the Artists’. “Lucas what… Don’t come near here you are tress passing!” Lucas ignoring any and everything that Garet said just continued to advance.

    Garet shut and locked the door, Lucas knocked on the door “Come on Garet time is wasting I want your blood, the sweet blood of and artist like you.” Garet jumped out a window and began to run through the city “Where the hell are you going, I thought we were friends Garet!” the words echoed through out the city and Garet just continued to run.
  17. Kyra stopped back at her warehouse and picked up a few things. "Maybe I should get a job... I need a bit of money..." She sat on her bed and looked through a newspaper for some job openings. After a few mintues of searching, she layed down and sighed. "Nothing... Absolutely nothing... Just great..." She got up and popped her back. "Looks like I gotta get out to find a job... Oh joy..."

    Kyra hummed and walked around the town. "I wonder why people hate Artists? I mean we're not that bad..." she thought as she sighed. She wondered if she'd ever see that man again... "He was interesting, to say the least..." She giggled and skipped a bit. She walked into a bar and got a job as a bartender. She loved working with food and drinks so this was a perfect job for her. She walked out of the bar with her new uniform; a black short skirt, a white button shirt, and red tie. "Maybe I could wear a cute cat headband with it..." She thought before running into someone familiar...
  18. It hasn’t been long since the chase between Garet and Lucas began, Garet thinking to him self was wondering what made Lucas want him dead. He continued another good five or ten minutes of running where he had lost him but didn’t want to take the chances of him catching up. Garet charged into the hotel up the stairs to the floor with the bar. He accidentally crashed into a women who must have been lost in thought. “Ah jeez that hurt” he stood up and held out his hand to help the women he had collided with. “I’m sorry madam, are you alright?”

    Garet soon realized it was the girl he had met back at the pond “Ah it’s you! I’m sorry but I’m in a tight situation here and well…”
    “I know your in here Garet!” the voice echoed down the halls “God damn it doesn’t he ever give up… Listen madam either you can stay here or you can help me escape this mad man who I used to know, and before you answer remember if you help me out you might be targeted as well."
  19. Kyra looked at the man and smiled. "I'll gladly help ya out! Kuro! Kurai!" Like shadows, both dogs appeared at her side, growling and snarling. "You got this, you two?" Kuro nugded her and barked. Kurai only nodded. "Then go... Be careful..." Both dogs charged at the mad man and brought him down. Grabbing the man at the pond, she pulled him up. "Come on, you can hide at my place... Let's move before they kill him..." She grabbed his hand and ran out the back exit.

    Kyra knew all the back alleys by heart and twisted and turned through them with practiced ease. "Left here... Right... Straight... One more left..." she thought, pulling the man behind her. She smiled as he stumbled a bit. "Just like I am..." She leaped over a large fence, rolled and got back up. She opened a small gate and let him in. "This is my front gate. Not much, eh?" She smirked and walked to the large warehouse.
  20. Garet happy from her offer smiled back “Sorry that I can’t…” before he could finish he was being pulled out of the bar and out the back entrance of the hotel. Tired from the last chase he asked to where he was going. As he was being pulled he was wondering where he was at, he had never been down these allies. Before he knew it Garet was at the gate of a house. “So this is your house huh… well I’m sorry for getting you dragged into all of this” they walked inside and Garet began explaining everything. “Alright well let me begin with introduction, my name is Garet Nobelman. I used to be a scientist for developing a cure for a mutation in the human body. I had been studying and testing various combinations but all failed. As you can see this final attempt had backfired and altered some of my genetic codes... And the man you had attacked was my former friend Lucas Heming; the reason he wanted to kill me was… well was because I am what’s called an artist, I’m sure you’ve herd of them before.”

    Taking a breath or two he opened up his wallet and had forgotten the he only had 30 dollars but now down to 15 dollars from the meal. “Ah man I don’t have enough money for a ship ride off this planet… Excuse me uh… sorry I had forgotten to ask what your name was.”