Wandering mind, wandering body... with Screech

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Tsimmu, Jan 6, 2015.

  1. It was another one of those days, the kind that appeared to have no end in sight. Or, nights, was more like it. The insanity was like a far away dream, tickling at the edges of his mind waiting to take hold again. It was harder, now, ever since he had come back to the city, trying to hide his strange appearance took a lot of work and wasn't something he relished. Yet he lingered in this place longer than he should, as though he was waiting for something. This was the same city where he had met his strange fate, leaving him like... this.

    The strange man was simply leaning in an alleyway looking utterly suspicious with his hooded jacket up over his head to put his face into deep shadow. Fortunately odd hair colors were more and more common in this day and age, so the purple hair peaking out from the hood was not unusual. What appeared to be acid washed jeans covered his legs, and some ratty old boots his feet. It was hardly what he considered comfortable, but the more skin he covered, the better. If Ravier did not eat something soon, his mind was going to go on another extended vacation.

    It was as though he had waited too long, let the sanity escape too thoroughly, and now it was more elusive. Or perhaps he just wasn't eating enough. It was hard to tell, as prey was harder to come by now. Still, strange eyes peered out from under the hooded figure, scanning, listening for a heartbeat... or lack thereof. If he did feed again, he wouldn't be able to stay here any longer, he would have to move on. And some part of him did not want to. This city, it had some meaning, something he wasn't quite grasping, and so he was lingering and waiting, waiting too long.

    The night was especially dark due to the cloudiness, and it was spitting rain, making everything just slightly damp. Ravier did not mind the cold or the dark, but he stood there, feeling a little confused and trying to grasp the tendrils of his mind into a cohesive thought. People milled by the alleyway, very few noticing the shadowy figure. Every once in a while someone would flinch as they realized someone was in fact standing there, and they would quickly move on. Ravier did not acknowledge them, or even move. Only a supernatural would notice something odd about the figure, other than the shadiness of his stance and location, but none had come by this night. Perhaps for the best..

    He did not know how long he had been standing, but sunrise was a long way off yet. That much he could discern.
     
  2. The street was fairly narrow, sandwiched between buildings and lined on one side with cars it was bathed in a relaxing orange glow from posts looming high above. In the distance drew the enormous towers of the city, a spectacular view often clouded from with plumes of smog. Tonight however, it was becoming gradually awashed with a warm sour tasting rain that at least began to lift the heat which lingered all day long, offering some relief from the unbearably clammy summer weather.
    Aven had been lying day long in her dark earthly grave she'd squeezed into under one of the local buildings, but following her little crawl out she found the air to be the least bit more breathable. She gave a stretch, and soon found herself squatting beneath a small awning sheltering a boarded doorway while she waited for her brain to finish waking up. Every now and then the girl would jut out her arm to the rain, let a few drops fall on it and rub the dirt away with her other hand like a meager homeless bath. But it was cool and pleasant, and that much she was thankful for. After a while, she stood and dried her wet arms with the hoodie tied around her waist, slipping it on and pulling the hood over as she prepared to enter the rain.

    She let the toe of her boots slap through some of the puddles on the street side as she ambled along, figuring she would be in for a bit of exploration to tarry her boredom before she properly set out for the dinner that would conclude her evening. However, Aven was ignorant of the stares she recieved as the odd persons breezed her by- a purely noxious stench that was only sweetened by the moisture rising in the air. However she was feeling too blithe to give anything or anyone else her attention and continued walking at a nice pace while looking up at the city lights dotting the foggy skyline, as though she were prepared to simply leave the ground behind at any moment. More precisely however, she did not notice the figure looming around the little alleyway and skipped right on by.
     
  3. Ravier was stone still, so it was not surprising that many passed him by unnoticed. However, his brain fired up just a tad as a particularly silent heart wandered past his little alcove. The night was young and there was still potential for others to come, but this one smelled odd, like fresh dirt and something a little stranger, more like decay and very unfamiliar to him. He didn't recognize this particular smell, though it reminded him of what he was seeking.

    Intrigued, he tugged his hood down a little lower over his face and emerged silently from the alleyway. He had to be ever careful in these situations, because the supernatural were not so easily followed or fooled as humans were. Humans, like sheep, could be manipulated and led astray. Supernaturals took more... finesse. Which is probably why Ravier was consistently starving, seeing as 'finesse' was one of his skills most lacking.

    By the time he had resolved to follow, she had moved further away, but he kept a meandering pace, following that unusual smell. A thought crossed his mind, Isn't this how you got into trouble in the first place? How you always do?, but he rarely listened to his own common sense and continued to trail the stranger from a ways back. He could just barely see her figure as she passed under the pooled street lights. It was a casual tailing, mostly born of curiosity, though his hunger peaked with his interest.
     
  4. Aven was of course, oblivious towards being followed- or perhaps it was simply that she refused to be aware of her surroundings. She walked with a very secure and steady pace and turned her eyes up at the next streetlamp as she began to approach, picking up her speed a bit with a little jog.
    It was in this moment she not only misjudged the direction to which she decided she would leap up to the post, which was one of her favorite things to do, but also a little puddle on her path. A puddle, no bigger than perhaps two and a half feet sat just on the inside of the spotlight of the said streetlamp.

    She noted the puddle in the center of the street. She was clearly aware of it's existance. Action flowed through her mind just as happily as it would on screen- her foot dashing through it with animation, sending dirty water flying up as she pressed her foot down and launched herself cooly into the air. So her foot came down at the end of her jog, staring up with a smile which turned upside down as the toe of her boot broke the surface of the water. It sunk, with a huge splash that gushed in all directions as she fell forward rapidly- her palms scraping audibly against the asphault as she attempted to break her fall. By now, both boots were filled with water and wet to the shins and she raised herself up slightly off the ground, sneering and hissing at her blunder.
     
  5. Ravier watched her begin to move faster, wondering if she realized someone was on her tail, before pausing just in time to see her fall. He stared with a bewildered look, though his face was obscured in shadow by his hood, for only a moment before he burst out into a sort of maniacal laughter. He didn't know why exactly, and would hardly have been able to explain it, but the fall had left him so speechless the only answer he had was to laugh at it. What had originally felt like a fairly mysterious and serious hunt had turned into just him watching someone else's clumsiness, which somehow made him feel a bit better.

    Clearly she was not taking the incident well, and realizing that he clammed himself up in quick order after his little outburst, snickering quietly to himself now as he couldn't quite stop himself from laughing just yet. The scene had just pushed some button of his to make him completely lose his earlier concentration. Then again, it was difficult for Ravier to hold concentration at all these days, but perhaps it was even more rare for him to genuinely laugh. Instead of going to offer help or something else along those lines, he simply turned sideways to her as though he hadn't just been snickering about her pain and stood where he was. It was the least casual thing he could have probably done, but Ravier was certainly not one for chivalry of any sort.
     
  6. She flipped over and sat on her bum following her little incident and scooted away from the dirty hell deep puddle, but now aware she was being giggled at. The water instantly put her in the worst of moods, which she was prompt about at least trying to remove from the bottom of her boots by taking them off and flipping them upside down. However, upon seeing the one asshole laughing at her calmly approach and simply stand still chortling at her mistake, she gritted her teeth trying to root her anger instead of violently expressing it.

    "Oh yeah, laugh it up, laugh it up! " She crowed shaking the water out and knocking it against the ground in frustration, but kept her eye on the stranger in front of her from behind her sunglasses. "I suggest you laugh your ass right the fuck away from me." But despite attempting to sound menacing, it only sounded like an empty threat from someone who was reasonably angry.
     
  7. Ravier glanced sideways at her, though she probably couldn't see the actin since he didn't move his head and his face was purposefully covered. Regardless, he was grinning, and did not feel the least bit truly threatened by this creature, whatever she may be. Not necessarily a safe assumption on his part, but he didn't exactly have a history of making good decisions.

    "What, me?" He sounded as innocent as he could manage, which wasn't very. His voice carried a strong cockney accent, but it sounded older than the modern British flavor. "I've no idea what you mean. You must be hearing things, love." He was in a bit of a... provocative mood, as it were, and he wasn't about to let up on giving her a hard time. Again, probably not in his best interest, but he had little interest in himself these days anyway. He wouldn't be out on the street risking his life if he truly thought much about said 'life' in the first place. But, such was his mind.

    Regardless, he wasn't approaching her. Perhaps he really was smart enough to be wary or maybe he was just curious as to what she would do with the continued prodding. Hard to tell.
     
  8. ((woops sorry it was a bit hard for me to tell where he was, forgive me))

    Aven perked up, surprised at the strange dialect, and in that moment she was a little too taken aback to be as angry as she was to start. Following her little tough guy outburst, she squinted from behind her shades stood up a bit unbalanced on her feet. "You think you're such a funny guy..." As she sneered, she ripped the hood off of her head with one hand causing a few fly away hairs to be dragged out into the damp air. It was then that she began stomping her way over to him, her shoes making that all too familiar squishing sound caused by suction against her bare feet. She didn't quite realize how unintimidating she looked in all respects; a tiny girl with a voice of a 40 year old smoker and frail, balsa wood ankles that very well look like they should have snapped from that nasty spill. That was aside from the almost clownish squishing noises she made as she walked. Before she could really come too close however, she slowed down some distance away and turned her head at him in this way and that. There was something about his presence she couldn't put her finger on, but she didn't know quite what it was.
     
  9. "Me, funny?" Though his voice was filled with false surprise, the humor he felt from the situation could still be clearly heard within his voice. More quietly still he added to the end of his words. "I am not the clown here." And though he knew she could probably hear him, as he suspected what she was but was not yet certain of it, he said it anyway. Apparently he had thrown caution to the wayside, and as she drew nearer he turned to face her - challenge accepted.

    But then she paused after her attempted dramatic show of rage. And as she began to study him, so too he studied her, now that her own hood had been thrown back in anger. She looked very frail indeed, with features that weren't quite human, nor quite anything he fully recognized. Her head movements, and indeed the frailty of her body all reminded him of a bird. But Ravier never claimed to know many supernatural races or much about them. So all he could really say was that he knew she wasn't human, but the strange features also made him question his original suspicion. It was easy enough for her to be something he had never heard of. Regardless, he stood his ground, just watching her now, the mirth gone from his body in his slight confusion. The cogs were turning, but not producing much of anything on what he might be looking at.

    He, on the other hand, was a bit of an enigma himself in appearance and attribute. His face was still covered, as he was loath to expose it, and in fact he had done his best these days to start covering up. He wore gloves and a hood to cover every inch of skin as often as possible, though the purple hair stuck out from the hoodie slightly. She may have thrown her own cover off, but he wasn't so ready to do the same.
     
  10. Without causing an air of awkwardness to bubble between them for so long, a lightbulb flickered on in her mind and her mouth popped open and the grin from the side of her mouth burst suddenly into a boisterous gasp of laughter, catching a few drops of rain in her mouth and making the world painfully aware of her beautiful smile. Something about him was standing just on the very tip of her tongue, but it didn't hit her until he stood stagnant in the street facing her. Now, she thought, the only thing missing was a medical mask and perhaps the polite offering of a peace smoke- but it was certainly not something she expected from this stranger.

    "Hey, guy! Isn't it a little hot for gloves? Wow, what a weirdo. Yeah I heard you calling me clown, what, you think I don't have ears asshole?" Then it came to her to begin mocking his accent "OI MATE DIDJA FORGET TA PUT THA TEE ON THE STOVE, TIP TOP CHEERIO-" She announced it in a fashion where people across the world could probably hear, and she did her best to put on a grin and a show, stepping forward with a strut and puffing her chest as though there were something to be seen. He appeared to be tight lipped now, and quite still, although from her stand point there wasn't much else to discern from his appearence other than the fact that he was some young foreign yuppie with frilly colored hair. She was hoping to provoke him into some sort of attack even if she were completely mistaken and he was in fact human after all, but it wasn't the first time she'd mistaken humans for creatures and vice versa. But this one was as strange as the last, and her curiosity was hooked, not knowing much about the 'world' at large even still.