The Bullets May Singe Your Skin, and The Boarders May Fall

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Dip, May 26, 2014.

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  1. It wasn't uncommon for it to be raining. It was refreshing, yes, but it made business slow. Slow business was bad for running businessmen, to tell you the truth. Currently, the fast paced businessman was whistling in the rain, on his way to his shop. How he found himself in the situation-- the one with the wetness and the thunder claps-- was a mystery, but how he planned to get himself out was an easy solution.

    The man walked towards a run-down old shop, and pulled out a set of keys. Now, I don't know about you, but unless you couldn't tell, the businessman was in charge of this business. The business was cleverly named, aswell. The name of the shop on 3366 Order Avenue was cleverly called The Stumble In.

    The reason the name was so clever to the businessman was that people would quite literally stumble in with their problems. Let it be, 'My wife wants a divorce!' or, 'My husband put a hex on me!' or, the ever revolting, 'I want so-and-so to be my wife, but so-and-so doesn't love me!'. You see, the business man was a very peculiar one. He ran a magic shop, and practiced magic terribly. He was skilled in the arts of summoning and witchery, and that's why his middle name is (cleverly named) Salem.

    Aedian Salem Anderson walked into the doors of The Stumble In one rainy Saturday night, and he wasn't all too happy about the rainy part. The man cleared his red hair from his freckled face, and closed the door. Aedian sighed, and swished his fingers, muttering something under his breath.

    In a flash, almost as flashy as the lightning, the candles in the store flickered on, and the sign in the front of the shop flipped from 'Closed' to 'Open'. Just like that! The man groaned, because he absolutely hated his job, and he sat down behind the desk. The businessman rubbed his temples, his eyes, pulled up a sleeve of his, looked at his watch, pushed the sleeve down, and thought faintly that his pants were indeed chafing him.

    Aedian rested his head on the desk, and groaned. He hated his job so much. No because he didn't enjoy it, no, it was just the people. Oh, the God-Forsaken people! Aedian angrily changed his pants, and his shirt. He was now wearing a simple pair of black pants, a black beanie and a green sweater. He looked like a chump, sure, but atleast he didn't have to wear a 'witches' hat. He only wore one to control his curly red mop.

    It wasn't long after he was dressed again that the loud pecking began to sound on his window. He looked over, and saw that it was a simple crow. But not just any simple crow, it was his simple crow. He cracked a smile, and went over to let the wet bird in. The crow was larger than a simple crow should be, and in it's beak held a wonderful golden necklace.

    Obviously stolen, but that isn't important now.

    Aedian tucked the necklace in the desk pocket, and the simple crow found it's perch. The Stumble In was officially open for business, but no one was headed there anytime soon. Maybe it was because the shop was like one from those old horror movies-- hanging plants, odd things lost to the earth, and even more. It gave off this aura that you weren't suppose to be there, and really, you weren't.

    He made sure that it looked like it, too, because he didn't want people inside. It was a very peculiar predicament, sure, but it somehow drew more people in than it did repel them. Aedian lit a cigarette, and spread it's ashes near the corner of his desk. To, you know, repel them further.

    The ginger pulled the cigarette from his mouth, and rested his head on the desk, and groaned even louder, this time. He hated his job so damn much. He was ready to give up for the day, and close the joint, but...

    That's when he walked in.
  2. Wow what a day. Amacus wished he could say falling out of a third-story window was an unusual occurence for him but if he did he would be lying through his teeth and the day wasnt even over yet. Sitting across from him was his suspect, the man who had thrown him from the third-story window. A balding, hulking mass of muscle that was so clearly not human it hurt Amacus to think that the real humans actually couldn't tell the difference. But his suspect was subject to human law and by human law crashing through an apartment complex threatening every tenant in the building and breaking five doors down (not to mention throwing a police officer out of a window) was definitely a chargeable offence. So here Amacus was, terrified that the man would hulk out and destroy his way out of the cell they were holding him in while trying to persuade the drunken buffoon that a night in the cells would do him no harm.

    Eventually after a very tense interview which seemed to draw an audience from all his police coworkers, he actually managed to get the man peacefully off to the cells. After that he wasnt his problem. Now he could follow the advice of everyone he had seen that day and go home. He looked a bloody mess and he was pretty sure he still had bits of glass still embedded in his forehead. Getting that out was going to be painful. So with a heavy sigh and a long stretch he grabbed his trenchcoat and ducked out of the police station and onto the street, shielding his eyes against the afternoon sunlight.

    He had refused all medical assistance people offered him since he was pretty sure any normal human should be pretty darn beaten up after taking such a fall and it would do no good for some nurse to dose him up with tranquilisers and push him over into Wolf form in the middle of a hospital bay. As he walked down the street people stopped to stare at his battered face and bloodied nose while giving him a very wide birth and whispering to eachother in low, worried voices. Amacus just sighed heavily and lit another cigarette, it was going to be one of those days.

    Really in all honesty he shouldn't complain. Today the sun was shining, his bones were all still intact and none of his organs were missing or on fire. On average this day was in the top 500 of good days he'd had. But then again, he had no one in particular to share the day with. In the past he'd had friendships, brothers in arms whom he trusted more than anyone and would have died for if he could. Now the day just seemed... empty. Where was the meaning to any of this. With this sombre mood he padded down the street in the vague direction of home.

    In the end he just wanted to get out of the sun, it was a complete accident that he even ended up in the little shop. He noted the dark and foreboding exterior and could smell the faint aroma of cigarette smoke coming from inside so he'd at least feel comfortable. And so with only a vague understanding of what the shop was, he dove through the door and into the darkened and ominous room. Really he'd seen worse looking places but it felt as though this was purposefully made clutter and repulsiveness. Even so, he felt much more comfortable in this space than outside and his eyes wandered over the area until they alighted upon a figure standing behind a counter. In a sudden second, his heart gave a strange lurch and he got the intense urge to rush up and touch him. He stared for a few moments before shaking his head quickly and giving a brief half-grin and nodding politely to the stranger.
  3. Aedian looked at the stranger, and sighed. Great, another night helping another kook. Of course, Aedian was the King of Kooks, but he hated helping crazy people. He inhaled the smoke, and blew it out as he talked. "Hello and welcome to The Stumble In my name is Aedian Anderson I will be your guide through the wonders and the magic that is The Other Side please sit down and I'll get you started."

    Aedian amazingly said the entire thing in one breath, and without a pause. Or any expression. He got used to saying it over and over and over again, and it was a chore all of the time. He looked at the man, and saw that he was just standing there. He sighed, and groaned into his hands. "Look, fella, do you want something or not? I'm no insomniac, but I've been awake for days and I'd really like it if I could get to sleep. Relatively soon. Now, sit in that chair," He motioned to a chair in front of a table, with a bowl and a few candles on it, along with a deck of cards, "and we can both get this over with as soon as possible."

    The strange, bloody man sat down. Finally. Aedian put his cigarette in his mouth, and noticed that the stranger had one, too. "Hey, put that out. We're in a business establishment. Do you know how bad those things are for you?" Some people can be so inconsiderate. He inhaled the cancer stick, placed the ashes on a corner of the desk, and grabbed a piece of paper he kept on the front desk.

    "Here is our prices. We have six dollars for a palm reading, five for a tarot reading, three and a quarter for a tea-leaf reading, but because I'm nice, and I'm required by the state to be nice to my customers, I'll make you a deal." He's making the deal mostly because the man was looking at him weird, and he was covered in blood and bits of glass. "If you get a palm reading, right now, I'll throw in a visit to the scrying bowl to let you look in the past, or the future." He said, pulling away the paper.

    "If I were you, and thankfully I'm not, I'd go with the past reading. You might not like what you get if you look in the future, but all it does is show you an important event in the past that will happen sometime in the present." He explained, between hits of the cigarette, and shuffling of his tarot cards. "So," He started up again, "what'll it be?"
  4. To be honest the whole section of time from when Amacus had entered the store to now as he sat in the chair with this rude and strange man in front of him, had been a big blur. Except for the bit where he was told to put out his cigarette, that bit he got and had taken actions against.

    "Hey, put that out. We're in a business establishment. Do you know how bad those things are for you?" The kid had said that, just as he took a particularly long draw on his own, it had almost brought a sly grin to Amacus's face. The kid had balls for sure. But Amacus was an Alpha by nature and a challenge was a challenge. "No worse for me than not having them." He'd said as he also took another draw from his fag, staring this newcomer straight in the eye with an unwavering confidence.

    That look seemed to make the right impression since the Kid's attitude became almost accomodating, even if Amacus had never had any intention of involving himself in magic in the first place. Still now that he was here, feeling nostalgic and sombre and generally miserable, fortune telling seemed like as good an idea as any. Maybe he would see some people he missed.

    As the hard sell jargon came to an end Amacus took another pull from his cigarette before taking it from his mouth and blowing a cloud into the rafters while one hand came up to smudge away a trail of blood running down his nose.

    "Alright kid, I've got nothing better to do." He held out his palm. "Palm reading and Past Scrying it is."
  5. Aedian didn't like this guy. He wanted him out of his shop as soon as possible. This guy was a total nut-case, and to be frank, he kinda scared him. Only slightly. Very slightly. Aedian put some ash on the palm of the man's hand, and spread it around. He mostly did this because he was too lazy to collect the ink, and he really wanted to just get this guy's hand dirty. Once he did that, he used one hand to hold the palm up, and the other to softly trace over the lines of his hand.

    Well, it was obvious that he had a Spade-Shaped hand. It's one an inventor, or a writer... some kind of do-it yourself person... It's the kind of qualities that type of person would posses. This guy must have manual dexterity like a bastard! "You must be some sort of detective, or something..." He muttered softly. Oh, those folk were bad for business. They kept him up at night. He continued with the reading, looking at his hand intently. As he continued to look, he also noticed some very interesting things about the life line. It's tripled in places, and deeper than he had ever seen. It seemed to go down, down, almost completely, to no end! Aedian whistled softly.

    "You're going to live a very long time." Great, immortal detectives? That's the last thing he needed. Aedian noticed that there were plenty of chains and breaks, and even islands on the man's hand. A chained line indicates various health problems, both physical and emotional. Many people with allergies have such a line as well. A break represents a sudden change in life style, an accident or an illness, and an island represents a very emotional time in the person's life. He didn't say anything.

    Aedian rattled on, and spoke of his findings as he found them, and boy did he find a lot of them!He moved onto the head line, and noticed that they were joined from the very start. If a Head Line and Life Line are joined at the beginning, this indicates that the person has a strong sense of mind generally rules over their body. They also look at childhood with a cautious and fearful outlook. It's doubled, so he must have strong mental abilities. How very peculiar...

    Now, for the last line Aedian was to look for-- the heart line. That line extends boldly across the entire palm. Well, this person clearly was a freak. This person tends to look for those whose status rises above their own, and has great respect for them. But, wow, there were a lot of islands. Those, to Aedian, clearly said that he had a terrible past with relationships. Maybe even some depression? As he continued to look, he saw that he also carried lots of breaks in his lines. Emotional loss may be symbolized by a broken line, as well as a line with small lines crossing through it. Such losses include deaths and the end of relationships.

    This guy was pathetic.

    Once he was done, he put out his cigarette on the edge of the table, and stood up. "Let me grab the scrying bowl," He sighed, and went into one of the back rooms.
  6. Amacus' face remained a calm mask of mild interest as he watched this fellow work. He definately knew what he was doing, this was no scam operation, this guy was an actual magic adept. It put a brief quirk of a smile to the corner of his mouth. At least he wasnt completely alone in this town. All the other supernatural beings around seemed to have it seriously out for him. The wolf paid little attention to his palm and was more intent upon this Kid's face. He wore alot of his thoughts in his expressions and as he read Amacus' life he really showed what he thought about every aspect of it. In truth Amacus was quite surprised he was letting the guy do this. Normally he would have been wary to even let himself be touched but... there was something about this one. He just didnt want to stop staring at him. Perhaps it was that Amacus found him handsome? Urgh no stop thinking like that. He shook his head to dispell the unwanted thinking and tried to concentrate.

    "You must be some sort of detective, or something..." This brought a brief grin to Amacus' face. "That about covers it.." He sensed a tone of annoyance and distrust laced into the man's words. Well that was no surprise. Few people liked detectives.

    "You're going to live a very long time." This did surprise him. "I've already done that.." He murmered this more to himself than his reader. Hadn't his time run out yet?

    He rattled on a while longer about bad health and life changes which merely ellicited a shrug from Amacus. He knew all this stuff already and he didnt have much incentive to relive it through a medium, although he felt like the man said less than he saw. He also spoke of a fear of his childhood... well you got that right at least. He didn't think he'd ever not been afraid as a child. At some point the Kid made a face, as though he didn't think much of Amacus, and spoke of various losses and depression that he'd possibly. This actually made Amacus chuckle in a slightly humourless and long-suffering way. Bad at relationships? You could say that again. He probably looked pretty frickin pathetic.

    "Let me grab the scrying bowl," Amacus nodded distractedly, thinking about the various things said. This really hadnt helped his melancholic mindset at all.
  7. Aedian was wary of the man when he opened the door and exited the front entrance for a moment. Once he collected what he needed for the scrying, he went back, to see the man in the same exact place as before. Perfect. Aedian placed the large bowl infront of him, and walked near one of the counters. While Aedian was busy mixing spices, the pathetic fellow at the table had time to look at the bowl. The bowl was black, and made from some form of tree-bark, but it must have been lost to the earth long ago. It seems almost as if the bowl was passed down from generation to generation.

    "Basil," Aedian yelled for his pet, and the crow flapped over to him. Aedian gave him the mixture of spices and herbs, and the crow happily took the small concoction in his beak. Once the bird had it, the helper quickly scurried to the bowl. It dropped the spices in, caw'd at the man, wondered if it could get away with pecking at his fingers, and waddled off to the other side of the table. Aedian came over towards the table, with a large picture of water in his hands. Now, Aedian wasn't one to show off, but he was one to make a scene. What he did now really caused one.

    Aedian began pouring the water. Not even half way in the process of it, he let go of the handle, and decided to light a cigarette. Now, this caused the glass to suspend in mid-air, and Aedian to have free-will of his hands. He lit the cigarette, sucked in some smoke, put some ash into the water, and grabbed the empty glass, all without skipping a beat! Aedian put the glass on the floor, and centered the bowl in the middle of the table. Usually, it would take days to perfect the waters for scrying, but Aedian developed a way to make it seemingly perfect almost instantly.

    Aedian shoved one of his hands under the table, and used the other hand to hover above the bowl. Now, it was an awkward position, but it worked for what he was doing. In one hand, he summoned a little flame. In the other, he conjured a small flurry. This method gave it both a frozen and a burnt look to the water-- almost as if it was oily. It took seconds, but when Aedian pulled back his hand, he cursed loudly, and dropped his cigarette on the table.

    "SON of a BITCH!" He looked at his hands, and saw what he usually did. The one he held under the table was burnt, while the one he held above the bowl was frozen almost solid! God, he hated summonable magic. He groaned, walked towards the counter, and pulled out a large medical wrap for his burnt hand, and he stuck his cold one under the fosset for a few seconds. After he got some mobility from his cold hand, he walked over towards the man.

    "Alright, okay, now, I need you to completely relax, or else you're just going to... well, I don't know what you might do, but I can tell you, it won't be pretty. Just, close your eyes, and take a deep breath, and focus on... Well, something. Anything. Just completely blank out and focus on something." Aedian said, with a sigh. He picked up the cigarette, and blew smoke into the man's face. Huh, he didn't even flinch. Aedian placed his cigarette between his lips and stood behind the man. He slowly pushed his head in the water, and once his face was completely submerged, he leaned in and whispered, "Open your eyes,"

    Now that THAT was done, this guy was about useless for something near an hour or two. Aedian tussled the man's hair, pulled out his wallet, and stole all of the noticeable bills, along with a few cigarettes. He tucked the wallet back, and attempted to play Solitaire with a deck of Tarot cards. While Aedian played and shuffled with his Tarot cards, the pathetic man with very interesting hands was cheek deep in the luke-warm water. The very pathetic man saw things that would make any man shutter.

    It was 1865 near Farmville, Virginia. Robert E. Lee's army was retreating from the Richmond to Petersburg line. The Union General Philip Sheridan cut off and beat back about a quarter of Lee's army. Eight Confederate generals surrendered, and 7,700 men were lost, and of those men was one named Donavin 'Donny' Melto, or simply, Private Melto.
    The scene was set up like this; shooters in the battle-field, the wounded in the farmhouse beside them, and the privates guarding their territories. The Private shot his gun, watched a comrade fall, and simply took his gun and continued. The spoils were to the victor, but Donavin didn't make it to see Lee surrendering three days later.
    The scene shifts, and he's alive again. Inside a room, with a bunkmate-- who happened to be Amacus at the time. Donavin and his green eyes shine, because he obviously has the upper hand in this poker game. Donny throws in the rest of his pack of cigarettes for the bet, and lays out a royal flush. He throws his head back and laughs loudly, his freckled cheeks parting way to see his church-cemetery teeth.
    Even further back, now. It was 1861, and they meet at the loading docks. The ginger sees Amacus, and shakes his hand.
    "Oh, what a strong grip!" He chuckled, looking at the man with a smile, as if there wasn't a war that they had to fight. "I can tell that we're going to be friends."
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