WRITING Yerp. Read if you want.

Discussion in 'SHOWCASING' started by Vex Inertia, Jul 22, 2016.


    Paileyra leaned against a wall in the town square, smoking a cigarette. She inhaled deeply and exhaled a large plume of smoke. She was wearing a black trench coat, with its hood pulled over her head. The only other clothing visible was the pair of ugly boots that were on her feet. She was never one to get into fashion. Blending in well, no one seemed to pay her any attention, which was just the way she liked it. Pai took drag, after drag, until her cigarette was down to the filter and she flicked it into the street with her middle finger. Her eyes were fixated on the building across the street, and a grin came to her face when a tall, fat man walked out.
    “Norman Baker. Right on time buddy.” She said in a whisper aloud.
    When the man, Norman, started walking down the sidewalk, she too began to walk in the same direction. She was following him and he was none the wiser. Paileyra crossed the busy intersection, and was on his trail for what seemed like forever before he finally stopped, and went inside of another building. This was apparently where he lived, as there were only apartments inside. After following him in, she watched as he entered room ‘1 C’ on the first floor. Her right hand went to her waistband, and she withdrew an ancient Glock 19 semi-automatic pistol. Then, she knocked. Instead of asking who was at the door, Norman simply opened it halfway.
    “How’s it going, Norman?” she said with an obviously fake smile.
    “Do I know you?” He asked wearily.
    Paileyra lifted the gun and pointed it directly at his face, only an inch away.
    “Sure ya’ do. Why don’t you invite me in?”
    “P-please miss, I don’t h-have any money.” Norman said, already showing his true colors while complying with the demands and opening the door.
    As Paileyra walked forward, he walked back. His place was pretty small, evident by only a few steps being taken and they were already in the living room. There were pictures on the walls, the furniture was half decent, with a holographic T.V on in the background. Paileyra barely noticed any of those things though, being only concerned with what she came here for.
    “Sit down, Norman.”
    “Take whatever you want and go! Just don’t shoot me, please!” he begged as he sat down on a black, leather love seat.
    ‘Tch. Fuckin’ coward.’ She thought.
    “Tell me what I want to know, and you might just survive this little situation we have on our hands. Understand…?”
    “But I don’t know anything! I’m a bank teller for Christ sake!” he replied.
    Paileyra cocked back her pistol with her left hand, pressing it against his right kneecap soon after.
    “How about this, for every lie you tell me, you get a bullet wherever I choose. I don’t have time for your games, Mister Black. That is what you prefer to be called, right?” she questioned.
    “I don’t know who M----“before Norman could finish his sentence, he heard a sharp bang. It echoed throughout the room, and even caused a ringing sensation in his ears. Then followed the immense pain coursing throughout his leg, and a scream. His scream. Norman had just been shot in the knee-cap, like she promised.
    “Shut the fuck up, or the next one is in your head.” Said Paileyra, raising the gun and now pressing it in between his eyes.
    Normans screams turned into muffled cries, accompanied by tears.
    “A... select few of my clients know me by that name.” He admitted.
    “And I assume you have a list of these clients?”
    Paileyra moved the gun from his head, to Mister Blacks other leg.
    “A-Alright! Yes…it’s…. on my phone.” He said.
    “Give it to me. Now.”
    Mister Black reluctantly dug into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, handing it to her after.
    “That has everything…names, appointments, known addresses. Everything you could possibly want to know is in there. Now please, I need to go to a hospital!”
    “Unfortunately, Mister Black, you’ll be going straight to the morgue.”
    “No, please! I answered your questions, and gave you everything you wanted! You sa---!”
    “I said maybe.”
    Paileyra lifted her gun to his head one last time, and before he could swat it away, she pulled the trigger, sending the bastard into the next life with a bang. Literally. Mister Black was dead. She knew the police would be arriving any second due to all the commotion, and gunshots, so she didn’t waste any time getting the hell out of that apartment. She was walking down the sidewalk when they finally arrived, peering down into her hand, at the dead man’s mobile device.
    Norman Baker, or Mister Black rather, was no ordinary bank teller like he wanted Paileyra to initially believe. He was, in fact, one of the most popular and successful connects for the modern day slave trade. She had been tracking him for months, but every time she nearly had him he would change locations. Sometimes he would leave the planet entirely, going to one of mankind’s many colonies in the vastness of space. Pai had been planning on killing him from the very beginning. His cowardly behavior only made it easier. With him dead, she very well may have just saved many lives, or at the least bought them more time before they were shipped off, never to be seen again.
    Pai had her suspicions that there was something greater going on here, but she didn’t exactly know what. This had all started after her little sister, Sasha, was kidnapped two years ago. Her family paid the ransom against the advisement of police, but Sasha was murdered shortly after they received the money. The kidnappers videotaped the entire ordeal, and sent it to her parent’s home as if laughing at their pain. The only lead Paileyra had in finding out just who these murderers were, was their opening statement on the murder tape. “We are ‘The Black Hand.”
    ‘Maybe I should’ve gotten the fucking passcode before I killed that son of a bitch.’ Thought Paileyra.
    Try as she might, Pai didn’t know the passcode for the phone, and she couldn’t risk getting locked out permanently. Or worse, the data being wiped. Luckily she knew just who could hack the security software in no time. Eight-bit. He was a hacker of immense skill, and the one she went to whenever she needed things done that were too technical or advanced for her technology wise. She stuffed the mobile into one of her pockets, walking back the several blocks she had come. There was a Banshee XL7 motorcycle leaning against the side of an abandoned building, or her ‘baby’ as she so often called it. She hopped on, threw on her helmet, and screeched off onto the streets of New Brooklyn.
    Paileyra swerved in and out of traffic, violating damn near every law of the road known to man. Drivers honked and yelled, but she paid them no mind. She wasn’t the most considerate person in the world, after all.
    “Cori, dial Eight-Bit.” She said out loud into her Bluetooth, wireless headset.
    “Dialing Eight-Bit…” replied a male, clearly synthetic voice.
    The phone rang, rang, and then rang again before someone answered.
    “Yo Pai...!” Greeted a raspy, adolescent sounding voice.
    “Hey, Eight-Bit.”
    “Haven’t heard from you in a few weeks. You alright?” He asked.
    “Yea’, no need to worry about me. I need a favor.” She replied.
    “Sure. What d’ ya need?”
    “A few things. I’d rather talk in person. Are you still in Old Jersey...?”
    “Yup, I am indeed. You know the spot.”
    “Gotcha. I’ll see you soon.”
    “Alright, see ya then Pai.”
    The two never said anything too revealing, only vague terms that wouldn’t be specific enough for the government, or anyone else that may be listening in to their conversations to use against them. They also used code words and phrases to mix things up even more. For instance, ‘A few weeks’ meant a few hours.
    She picked up even more speed when she reached the suburbs and country side of Old Jersey. It took her about an hour and a half to arrive at her destination, which would’ve taken an average person over three hours’ travel. Taking off her helmet she placed it on the seat of the motorcycle, and gazed upon a two story house. It was located in the center of an upper-middle class neighborhood, and had two cars in the driveway that looked brand new. One red, the other silver. Pai didn’t care too much to admire the architecture any longer, and thus made her way up the winding concrete and to the door. Before she even knocked it flung open, a young man with a wide smile standing behind it.
    He had unkempt, dirty blonde hair, big brown eyes, and was very skinny. Scrawny even. He was wearing a shirt that said ‘NERD’ in bold red, with black and white striped pajamas. Eight-Bit.
    “Pai! C’mon in.” he said immediately.
    Paileyra smiled and followed him in, Eight-Bit shutting and locking the door after she entered.
    “When I didn’t hear from after you were in New Brooklyn for so long, I thought something may have gone wrong.” He said as they walked up a tall set of stairs.
    “Nah, the mother-fucker must’ve taken some overtime at the bank. I was waiting for him to come outside.” She replied.
    “Oh, well that’s good then. I’ve been stalking channel five, and they reported that Norman Banks, a senior bank teller, is no longer in the world of the living. Cause: Bullet to the head.”
    “Leaving him alive after seeing me would’ve been a major mistake. Besides, scum like him deserve just what he received.
    I was able to get his phone, which I’m certain has everything we need in regards to his contacts and stash houses.”
    By the time she finished her sentence the two were in what she knew was Eight-Bits bedroom. It was a decent sized room, with a king sized bed, multiple computers/T.Vs, and a variety of nerd propaganda from superheroes to comic-book posters.
    “I agree completely. Now, what exactly did you need my help with?” Eight-Bit sitting at his small desk, while Paileyra sat on the edge of his bed.
    “His phone, it’s locked with some high-tech encryption software. If I had stayed and tried to get the passcode out of ‘em, I’d either be dead or in cuffs right now.”
    “Yeah, fuck that. Give it here.” Replied Eight-Bit.
    Paileyra removed the phone from her pants pocket, and put it in the hand of her friend. Eight-Bit took the phone, spun around in his chair to face the desk and immediately began tinkering with it. After a few minutes he finally spoke up.
    “This is some high level stuff, military grade. Luckily my skills are at just as high of a level.” A small beeping noise was heard shortly after.
    “We’re in. I’m going to connect it to my CPU, that’ll disable any tracking, and it’ll download everything to make going through this a lot easier.”
    “Do what you do best, Bit. I want it all.” Said Paileyra.
    Eight-Bit did just as he said, Paileyra still wondering how in the world he moved his fingers so fast on that keyboard.
    “First, I want the name or alias’ of his connections. Buyers, and sellers.” She added.
    “Alright. Here we go.” He replied, and began clicking/typing away.
    Suddenly numerous pictures appeared on his large, pre-historic monitor. Beside them were names. The first one had a picture of a man that looked to be of Indian decent, with a beard, sunglasses, and a blue turban atop his head. The words ‘Ishmael’ displayed in bright green letters. There was a problem.
    “Shit. I guess I couldn’t expect him to make things too easy…” Sighed Paileyra.
    There were names, and numbers, but other than guilt by association Paileyra had no other way of knowing if or how the people listed were connected in the grand scheme of things.
    “Run the first image through every known database you can think of.” She said.
    “On it, if he so much as ran a red light, we’ll know about it soon enough.”
    Pictures of different men flashed rapidly on the screen, the words ‘F.B.I’ database at the top of it. Then it stopped, and sure enough this ‘Ishmael’ character was highlighted red. Only instead of Ishmael, it read:
  2. On this night in The Leaf Village there was a fierce storm, rain poured down while lightning struck and thunder boomed in the atmosphere. The weather however, played no part in Jayce’s decision to move forward with his plans. He approached the entrance to Konoha with his features concealed under a long, black, hooded trench coat. Three guards stood idly by a large wooden gate, wearing the standard green vested attire of Leaf Shinobi. He didn’t say a word, not even after one of the guards stepped forward and ordered him to cease further movement.
    “Fire release: Great Fireball justu!” He said finally.
    Jayce could feel his chakra changing within his body, essentially converting into fire. He opened his mouth and out came a large plume of flames. Combining this technique with his second nature element, wind, the fire moved at incredible speed. It was too quick for two of the shinobi to avoid, apparent when they were consumed completely by the blast. Seconds later when the fire was gone and the smoke cleared, their charred bodies lay on the ground motionless.
    The third Leaf ninja panicked, scrambling to unsheathe his sword from his hip, but he was too slow. Before he knew it Jayce was upon him and the curved, jagged blade of a concealed sword was in the shinobi’s belly. Jayce watched the twisted expressions of pain and horror on the dying man’s face with little care. He knew this was the only way to get what he desired, what he needed.
    Jayce managed to kill the guards without setting off any alarms, which was a good thing indeed. He needed this to go as smoothly as possible. Behind those walls was an Uchiha, a real, live Uchiha. The last known member of that forsaken clan had died over sixty years ago, that was until Jayce learned of the Leaf Villages secret. They had found a baby boy about twelve years ago, with Uchiha blood running through his veins. And Jayce wanted those powerful, legendary eyes.
    While he didn’t directly set off any alarms, he knew the sound from his fire technique would likely cause other Leaf ninja to come and investigate. So, he entered the village before that happened. It had been so long since he’s been here, to the hidden leaf.

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  3. Tony Stark, billionare, playboy...and best of all, Iron Man. He had everything any man, or human being for that matter, could ever want and or hope for. Though to be honest, all he wanted was to save the galaxy from itself. Literally. The galaxies were folding. A group of the worst, most dangerous beings in the known cosmos banded together; and with their combined might were going to wipe the slate clean. Every planet, every organism, and molecule would be utterly obliterated from existence. This wasn't some run of the mill blow up a city deal, this was cataclysmic in every sense of the word.
    He stood ontop of a skyscraper, overlooking New York City. It was so beautiful. How could anyone, good or evil want to dismantle the very essence of life. He would never understand. A second later, a synthetic voice sounded through his ear-bud.
    "Good evening, Stark. I have some information you may be interested in." the voice was female, with a light british accent.
    "Go ahead, Des. And please, no games. A man running naked down the street wielding a foam Thor hammer is NOT something I'm interested in."
    Setting: Gremora. A moderate sized town off the coast of the coast of the Jonis sea. It is a generally middle to lower class town, with only one noble family residing within it. It has rocky dirt roads, many of them lined with homeless beggars. The Eluvian Army has an outpost here, about fifty, or so of their soldiers regulary patrolling, and enforcing order. The most popular establishment is a tavern/saloon named 'The Drunken Dragon'. Nearly every night of the week it is packed with drunks, prostitutes, and soldiers. Gremora survives off of it's fishing trade, offering the finest salmon south of the Drex border.
    Paileyra arrived at the residence of Raikenzu just as the sun began to rise, giving the land a pleasant yellowish orange glow. She barely made it on time, after the incident that happened less than an hour ago. Most of it was a blur, but she vividly remembered the feeling of her sword tearing through the flesh of dozens, maybe a hundred Driads. There were still dabs of blood on her face, and random spots of her body. The dirt road broke off into a winding concrete path, in which she eagerly walked upon, before knocking on the dark, wooden door. Almost immediately it swung open.
    "Paileyra, I presume?" said a young Dark Elf..
    The young male had light blue skin, and long, upper back length black hair. His features were soft, yet still strongly masculine. Many females thought of him as handsome.
    "Yes, I am here to see Sir. Raikenzu. He's expecting me."
    "No problem, c'mon in."
    The Dark Elf opened the door wide, and stepped aside. Paileyra didn't hesitate in entering. Her eyes gazed around her new surroundings. She wondered what his house would look like inside, and she had to admit she wasn't unimpressed. There were amazing paintings lining the walls, most depicting battles between man, and monster. The floor was marble, and there were bright candles giving the inside a good amount of light.
    "Follow me, the General is expecting you. My name is Trian." said the Dark Elf.
    She followed Trian down the hallway, passing several open rooms decorated with expensive furniture, and more paintings.