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Post by Kukuiru on Apr 12, 2010 18:39:04 GMT
Waiting outside the bar's dark, hulking building, sensitive ears listen to the pounding of the beat. His heart seems to thump to the rhythm, jumping in his ears to the secret dance of fear - Fear that he will never admit. Sylver's one green eye peers out at the landscape. He's not supposed to be here. He's waiting for his brother, and expecting to be approached by drunken idiots in the meantime. Or others. Outlaws. Against the black of the wall, his silver-blonde hair stands out like a beacon, one glittering eye calling like a gem. His face is a mass of scars, his right eye missing behind an eyepatch; ugly he may be, but dumb he is not. He knows it's just a matter of time before somebody comes closer, investigates his reasonably expensive clothes. That's why he has the very expensive knife in his belt.
Just hop straight in, but give a reasonable description of your character in the post.
Rules: - Standard rules, obviously. No god modes, no power playing. - Keep the swearing & rating down as low as possible. No cussing every word, but you're allowed to use a curse from time to time. - Expect violence/fights to spring out at some point. Consider the setting. - Please use good grammar/spelling. - Posts over three sentences, please.
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Post by Venn on Apr 12, 2010 20:53:49 GMT
"Screw this, I'm out of here." Shoving the door open with an air of pure malice, Laika ejects herself from the mass of drunken, sweaty men and women alike who's only goals seem to be smothering the others around them with their body heat and awkward dancing. Her upper lip is curled into an irritated snarl, and golden eyes glare into the cool night air. So much for that.
What she failed to understand is why on Earth someone could enjoy being in there. Was it a human thing? It seemed like it... oh well. Now, no one could say she didn't give it a shot, right? Turning sharply, her white-blonde hair flipping over her shoulder as a result, she spots the other. Standing there, casually examining the other, she fails to give the expected reaction of someone. She does not jump. Her heart does not race. She is unfazed by him, and all his scarred glory.
Seeing as she figures it wouldn't be the smartest tactic to approach him, and yet not wanting to leave without some sort of introduction, she bobs her head down to inspect the contents of her purse, rummaging furiously through it for her cigarettes. Where were the damn things? She knew she had packed them before leaving the apartment. Closing pale fingers around the pack, she pulls it from the little leather purse and closes her lips round a cigarette, pulling it out with her mouth and promptly lighting it with the lighter she has since pulled from her pocket. Blinking with a sudden idea, she turns her golden orbs up to the man. Stretching her arm towards him, she holds out the cigarettes. "Would you like one?"
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Post by Kukuiru on Apr 12, 2010 21:04:50 GMT
Sylver's pale eyebrow lifts almost past his hairline when the door is forced open by a young... Well, he's assuming she's a woman. The way things work around here, though, he wouldn't be suprised if she was a male dragon. One eye flickers up and down her shape, assessing the danger and reaction; well, she's not afraid of him. That doesn't bode well, since the few actual humans that survived this far, were usually terrified of everything.
The strong draft of sweaty, hot air from inside the club curls his lip, as he tries to drive the scent out of his nose. He can't smell her, which means she's wearing the currently fashionable perfume of other peoples' sweat and he wishes he could at least catch a whiff of her personal oder. That would determine her species. The golden eyes set in the female's face definitely hint that she's not human, whispering danger in his mind. As one of the few humans left in the area, he has to be careful. Even if he's got added bonuses to his humanity.
Finally, he decides to reply, gruff voice kept low to avoid attracting attention of any other apart from the one he's addressing.
"It's a disgusting habit. It won't kill you as quick as the customers of the bar, though."
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Post by Venn on Apr 12, 2010 23:31:04 GMT
A seemingly causal grin, with an undertone of cheekiness, graces Laika's face. "Well, taking into consideration no one in that place is going to be able to kill me... I'd be willing to bet that it at least has a shot... suit yourself, anyway," her feminine, and also quite snarky, voice rings out in crystal clear clarity.
Stuffing the pack into her pocket with the lighter, she raises the lit cigarette to her lips and inhales in an almost graceful manner. Curls of smoke escape the corners of her lips and she eyes the other with an almost... bored look, her face near expressionless, otherwise.
The wheels of her mind are turning by now, behind that pretty face of hers. She could tell he was human... more or less. He was a strong, smart one.. but still human. He had been out in the night air long enough for her to tell. She, however, had the advantage here and she knew it: He couldn't tell what she was.
The stench of those vulgar creatures she had left behind to bask in their obnoxious music had rubbed off on her. The mask of nothingness melts away into a wide grin, baring her surprisingly pearly teeth, regardless of her habit of filling her lungs with smoke.
Due to the small trickles of light slicing through the darkness, it becomes apparent that her eyes obtain an almost feline quality to them... the reason being both out of color and the fact her pupils are not perfectly round, like your average human.
Exhaling smoke slowly and deliberately, she lowers the cigarette slightly. "What's your name?"
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Post by Kukuiru on Apr 13, 2010 0:16:19 GMT
Sylver's expression doesn't change as she speaks, but he does lift his head slightly. The idea of those... idiots not being able to kill her, is certainly interesting. He was right then, she's not a human. That's pretty normal for around here, so it's not like his hopes were suddenly crushed.
He just leans against the wall, watching her carefully as she shoves the cigarettes back into her pocket and cups her hand around one of the "death sticks". He dislikes the smell of them, his lip staying curled because of it, preventing it from entering his nose. That means he can't scent her species, either, but he's not so worried. He has back up, for in case things go wrong. She doesn't know that they're being watched... Or they probably are, if the others haven't gone to get smashed at the bar.
"The name's not Sylver, but that's what you can call me. What do you go by?"
His voice is as gruff, and as growly as ever, his wary green eye fixed on her face and his hand within easy reach of his belt, where the knife rests soothingly against his hip. Hopefully he won't need it.
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Post by Venn on Apr 13, 2010 0:33:18 GMT
Tilting her head in a bird-like way, she grins at him curiously. "Hello, then, Sylver. My name is Laika. Laika Garuda," she responds in a sickeningly sweet tone. It surprises even herself that she dare give her first and last name to this... stranger, but it's too late now.
Upon inhaling from her cigarette once more, she lets her eyes stray to his hip, and an absent smile crosses her face once more. He's armed. This means he has a reason to be... curiosity may have killed the cat, but it said nothing of the gryphon. Not even a whisper.
"Is there any particular reason you're armed, Sylver? These morons are too tipsy to walk in a straight line, let alone throw a good punch." Her question is broken slightly by her chuckles of vague amusement. "And, I... I certainly have no intent on pulling any funny business..."
Flicking her cigarette off somewhere into the crushing darkness, she releases the last of the smoke through her nostrils, the wisps rising up like tendrils. "Anyway... what brings you 'round here? You don't look like you're much of a party person," her voice is light... but it's quite clear she's genuinely curious and that it's a serious question that demands an answer.
She was uneasy now. She had given him both names, somehow, and she knew he was armed. Therefore, there were two possibilities: He was weaker than presumed or he merely had a valid reason to be armed in public. But, she dare not show this wave of unease that had washed over her. It was probably nothing anyway... she had no intentions of starting a fight, and if he did, she was sure she could win it.
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Post by Kukuiru on Apr 13, 2010 0:43:23 GMT
Sylver's head pricks up as she actually gives him both her names, and he can see the suprise flicker in her own eyes. She didn't mean to do that, and it puts him at ease slightly. If she makes mistakes as easily as that, he's in no danger. Besides, there's a faint rustling from the tree line not far away; it's probably somebody he knows, who won't reveal themselves until he leaves.
"They may appear drunk, and they may appear human, but they're neither. If they wanted to kill me, they could with a flick. You're observant, at least, unlike them."
Following the light from the cigarette into the darkness, he shifts slightly, lowering his other foot to the ground instead of resting it against the wall. He's not sure what he's going to do, but for now he's fine to just stay here, and talk to her. She seems friendly enough, in a weird way.
"I'm here on business. I was supposed to be... dealing with somebody, this night. It appears they are not going to be coming here after all."
A rougish smile sent in her direction indicates that perhaps the "business", wasn't exactly pleasant, nor legal. In fact, the business partner would probably be sent off in a box.
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Post by Venn on Apr 13, 2010 0:52:56 GMT
In an attempt to brush off her foolishness, she returns his smile with a forced one of her own. "Oh, I see... business... I get it," and she did indeed. "I'm also aware that they are not human... if they were human, they'd be much worse. What, with puking up their innards, attempting to get into everyone's pants, and speaking with slurs that force you to actually focus on what they're trying to say to understand. As if I need to waste my time on that. No, they're not quite at that point... yet."
Blinking blankly and peering out into the darkness at something off in the distance, she appears to be in an almost dream-like state for an instant... zoning out and distancing self from the world to the extreme happens to be a genetic thing in her family.
Snapping back into reality, and not wanting the conversation to die down, she turns her, still somewhat distant looking, gaze back to him. "As for myself... I'm here merely to prove to someone else I can focus on other things than working. That I do get out a little. I'm afraid I'm not doing a particularly good job of that," she confesses with a slightly sheepish grin. "But whatever. Who could blame me? I wish someone would explain how all of that is 'fun'."
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Post by Kukuiru on Apr 13, 2010 1:11:53 GMT
Sylver absently nods, folding his arms in front of his chest to show that he's a little more trusting. His hands are still quite close to the knife however, since he's not stupid. Even the most friendly stranger can turn out to be dangerous in this area, and that's how he got most of his scars, not from his job.
"Generally the idea of fun involves a great deal of alcohol and rutting against another humanoid creature, for them. I don't find it the most amusing ideal. I'd rather pick up a good book, to be honest."
He says this with a musing look on his face, though with his scars and rugged looks he doesn't exactly seem like the type to appreciate fine literature. He seems more like the kind of man who thinks books are for burning when he runs out of fuel. Odd how looks can be decieving.
"Who're you trying to prove yourself to? The only person I'll ever bother trying to prove myself to is my brother."
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Post by Venn on Apr 13, 2010 1:32:43 GMT
Laika's face lights up at the mention of "good book". Her mother being an author and her father being a literature junkie has definitely left an impression upon her personality. "I agree whole-heartedly."
Seeing as her father wouldn't appear one to enjoy a book and a quiet place alone, she's unfazed by his... confession of sorts. But onto the next subject... Laika's expression dims slightly at the question, unease once again settling over her mind like a fine mist. However, after quickly, but thoroughly, reading his body language, she decides to just give him an answer rather than leaving him completely in the dark... figuratively speaking, obviously.
"My..."
It suddenly occured to her that she had no idea what he was to her. He was more than a friend, for sure... but, would it be inaccurate and a case of jumping the gun to refer to him as her own? She wasn't entirely sure, in all honesty, and it was plain upon her face seeing as she was no longer bothered with hiding her emotions from this man, at this point.
"My friend. He claims I don't get out, but he himself locks away from the world. He's sullen and moody and a general twat in most cases... but I care enough to take his challenge," she replies, finally, with a gentle shrug of her slender shoulders.
She became aware of the stabs at her stomach. Her friend. She had called him "a friend" in the end... and it was somehow unsatisfactory.
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Post by Kukuiru on Apr 13, 2010 1:41:15 GMT
"Join the club. My brother's the biggest twat you'll ever meet."
He means it, too. But the look on his face speaks of so much more, because he's dropped the completely emotionless look for a second, the thought of his brother the only thing which will change his expression, as ever. He doesn't seem suprised at the mention of her friend, since most people in Ra-Divide aren't exactly "couple" types. They're more the type for endless flings, or friends with benefits.
"Nobody understands the need to prove themselves. Least of all those who don't have to prove themselves to anybody. Maybe you should challenge him to do something."
He seems uneasy all of a sudden. A waft of scent from the forest has brought the smell of his brother, and the full moon hangs heavy in the sky. He doesn't know what's going on anymore... Why the other "business partner" didn't show up has been preying on his mind. Could the plot have been discovered?
"Have you seen a large man, white hair, red eyes? Or a small, black haired man with red eyes. The former's a friend, the latter's the man I was supposed to be dealing with tonight."
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Post by Venn on Apr 13, 2010 1:55:37 GMT
Laika nods, understanding what he means when he says that nobody understands. "I agree on that, too... I feel a need... no, I have a need to prove myself to not only my friend, but to my family it seems as well. Though, each for different reasons... and believe me, I have plenty of challenges in store for him."
Blinking, she attempts to answer the other's question; her mind picks through the night's events, attempting to match a face to the ones he is describing... to no avail. Not much, anyway. She had seen a possibility earlier in the evening.
"Well, I'm not sure. I may have. I saw a fairly large man with white hair, but hey. Only from the back. I can't be sure of who it was. I mean, could have been anyone, you know? Hell, my father's tall with white hair, too," she answers in a cool manner, her eyes flickering with mild humor. She had sensed the other's unease... she's merely trying to help it out a bit.
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Post by Kukuiru on Apr 13, 2010 2:03:00 GMT
Sylver nods to her as she carries on speaking, and looks around, glancing at the door to the club. Perhaps it's worth venturing inside after all, though the scents and sweat will more than likely make him sick as a dog later in the night; he hates the scent of dragons, and the other various disgusting creatures that dance to the beat of Anona's Bar.
"Do you want to come back inside? I'll buy you a drink."
It's rather obvious he's not interested in anything other than an excuse, and perhaps continued conversation. The looks he give her aren't loaded with attraction, like any other sane male... In fact, he looks at her as he would a rather interesting tree. Quite entertaining to look at, but a tree nonetheless. He's probably considering using her as cover at the moment, since humans rarely enter the bar unless with a "master" or "owner".
"I'd like to check if he's there. If he was more than seven feet tall, then it's the guy that I was looking for. At the very least, you get a free drink and I promise to protect you from the heaving masses of sex maniacs?"
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Post by Venn on Apr 13, 2010 2:15:47 GMT
"The answer to the question do I want to go back inside is no. I do not... but I will. Why? Because you're right. A free drink, protection from sex addicts, though that's unecessary... and that you seem dead set on finding him and it would be cruelty to let you venture into the depths of that layer of Hell alone," her voice has a slight undertone of bitter humor, but she grins regardless.
She can see that he's not interested in her in that manner... which is good, because nor is she. She has enough problems on her plate, the last thing she would need is a love triangle. No, she's quite alright without that. With a sigh, she turns with mock hesitation and lets out an overly exaggerated groan. "If I perish due to heat stroke, I blame you. Just a warning."
With a deep breath, she manages to shove the door open to have her ears instantly assaulted by the throbbing bass and screeching techno sound effects. Gritting her teeth, she endures the discomfort it causes and takes a few steps inside, though not straying too far as not to lose Sylver.
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Post by Kukuiru on Apr 13, 2010 2:27:09 GMT
Sylver nods gratefully as she claims she will follow him, though he's not too impressed with the idea of being pitied for having to venture back into the club. As she shoves the door open, he follows, his ears hurting with the beat of the club's taste in music. He can't immediately pick anybody out, so he leads her slowly towards the bar, yelling over the music.
"That's fine with me. Just so long as I don't have to pay for the funeral! What do you want to drink?"
When he reaches the bar, he flags the barwoman over, a young fox-like lady with a black mohawk atop her head, and odd-coloured eyes, one blue, one green. She grins at him saucily, and awaits his order, as he leans against the bar, scanning the place with his one, intense eye. Still, he can't see the usual white head sticking out of the crowd, and growls under his breath, wishing for once his friend would get his ass in gear.
"One water and.... Laika?"
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