Bloody waved goodbye as she picked the receive and began dialing the next number on her list. She only had two or three left to take care of before she could begin to close up shop. The next few calls went almost the same as the first one as she promised to get the job done the moment they had returned to the Clock Tower. There wasn't much she could do as it was a family emergency. Finally finishing all the calls she needed to make round three o'clock, she pressed a button underneath her desk that opened up the wall opposite her closet. Inside was a room filled to the brim with all kinds of bladed weapons. The walls were practically covered with the stuff. She grabbed many knives and began stowing them into her assassin's robe. Even with all the weapons she had begun sticking into her robe, there was no sound when she moved. Only a very slight rustling sound.
Then in the middle of the room sat a scimitar. It was seemingly the prize of the collection of weapons and she took it with it in the sheath. She took off the cloak that she had on to strap on the scimitar and she strapped it on in such a way that when she put the cloak back on the scimitar would still be concealed. She then walked back to her desk and hit the button underneath again to close the wall. She then turned on the speaker for Constantine's room, "Oi Constantine! You got two more hours before we have to hit the road! After that I'm closing up shop! I'd hate to leave you here stranded for the next three-four days!" she said to him through the speaker with a smile on her face.
Posted: Sun Jun 08, 2014 5:03 pm
Amaroq K
Darkerdemons
A spark went up at the sound of Bloody’s voice crackling on the intercom and then another, forcing the Constantine to set the soldering tool aside while his project finished with the mini fireworks display. The inventor cursed as he examined the device on the table, noting the scorch marks beneath which miniscule damages could be hiding. He glared at the speaker. Without music, everyone’s voice seemed grating. Two hours? It was bad enough he wasn’t allowed to work with music; now, he was being rushed? Did they assume he was such a genius that he just pulled weapons out of his a**?
Constantine depressed the button to the intercom.
“If I’m not ready in two hours, Senhora and the doutur should just go on ahead without me. I'll catch up as soon as I can.”
He’d be better for it, too. From what he gathered from Bloody and the doctor, it seemed like they were gearing up for war. If an opportunity to stay alive presented itself, he’d take it. Besides, it wasn’t as if he lived in the Clocktower; he’d consider their absence as his holiday. Maybe he’d have an opportunity to finish up those personal projects at home.
~*~
Just as it was with the front door, it was a while before anyone answered this one; but, instead of a cautious gaze, there came the pitched whine of a plasma-gun charging up for a blast. The barrel of pistol slid out from the crack, rested on top of Quentin’s head, and pushed the droid down (which Quentin allowed without the slightest protest) until Alex’s face came into full view. The glittering, gray eyes, on the other side, narrowed into slits.
“You’re not Micah.”
Soft and cracked from fatigue, the voice didn’t belong to the hard gaze on the other side of the door; though it did mirror every ounce of speculation. Just as the old man had done, the eyes flicked a quick glance at the white box in Alex’s hands, then at Quentin (whom, at the moment, seemed to take the pistol on his head as a gesture of endearment and nuzzled it with obvious affection). Eyes resting on Alex again, the individual on the other side seemed to gauge the butler’s presence before stepping back and opening the door further.
The gun’s owner looked out of place among the rot and ruin. With her doll-like structure, the woman was obviously meant for women’s finery instead of the dusty trousers and stained tank that hugged her curves, and she would've been pretty had it not been for her sickly pallor and the dark circles beneath her eyes; a cameo fixed to a black velveteen ribbon encircled the middle of her slender neck. And those large, doey eyes hinted at a past riddled with secrets, the kind of secrets that would hardened anyone's outward appearance. Though her eyes peered through a veil of coppery-rose tresses, her aim was a steady as her hand.
With the pistol, the woman gestured for Alex and Quentin to enter.
“Close the door behind you and place the box on the drawer. Then I want you turn and place your hands on the wall with your legs spread apart.”
Bloody heard what he said and realized that Constantine would rather not got at all if he had the choice. She let her finger hover above the button for the intercom as she thought about what this could mean to her. She realized that she wanted Constantine and the doctor there to serve a point. That point was that she was no longer a part of her father's organization. Only a part of the family and absolutely nothing more. This seemed to lighten the burden on her heart and soul as she pressed the button for intercom. "I need you with me Constantine. The point I'll be trying to make won't be as strong without you. The reason why I want you and the Doc to go with you are because I need my father to know that I'm not who I used to be anymore," she said to him as if to try and encourage him, "That I am a person that is a leader. Not just any leader. The leader of the best damn assassins' organization the world has ever seen. Not having you the will be like missing my right arm. Can't be missing an arm now can I?" She paused as she began thinking of what else to say. She nodded her head slowly before she finished with, "I can at least promise that I'll make sure you come out of this alive. My father will at least leave my comrades alone. Nothing will happen to you or the doctor. That much I can promise." She left it at that as she took her finger off the intercom button and plopped back down into her chair. She wondered what he would do now. That was the most she admitted to caring for her comrades that stuck with her in the Clock Tower.
Posted: Thu Jun 12, 2014 12:05 am
Thornwick
Alex's expression hardened. The butler contemplated tossing the parcel in Trikks' face before attempting to disarm her. After a tense moment of staring at the bold (and very attractive) woman, Alex finally gave a terse nod. Throwing the box at her would messy the contents. The tiramisu would still taste fine, but attempting to eat a pile of mush sometimes provoked a gag reflex. Besides, he had his orders and the truth was, he and Trikks were strangers. Accepting food from strangers was not a good habit to get into.
Entering the room slowly so as not to set off its alert occupant, Alex placed the box on the drawer as requested. He then walked away from the drawer, put his hands on the opposite wall, and stood with his feet shoulder-width apart.
"Master Zedd would like your opinion on the tiramisu. I do have other tasks to complete today, so I'd rather not spend more time here than necessary - those are his orders too."
Quentin zipped past her and took a sudden interest in her unmade bed.
“I know how Zedd operates, so I’m quite aware of your orders.” Trikks stepped toward the butler. “But Zedd knows how I operate and, like you, I have my orders.” With her grip still firm on the gun, she patted him down with her free hand--feeling his pockets and around his belt-line for any concealed weapons. Finding no cause for alarm there, her hand started moving down past his waist to inspect his legs. “Zedd has this bad habit of neglecting to inform me of any changes to his employment roster. Why do you suppose that is?” She didn’t expect him to answer, or know the answer, for that matter.
After clearing both legs, Trikks threw a quick glance at the back of Alex’s head, trying to decide what to do with him. This one was different from the two previous men Zedd had in his employment; she’d caught the dangerous glint in his eyes before he’d complied with her demands. She couldn’t blame him, though: she’d react the same way if someone held a gun to her face and expected her to listen to instruction. Stepping away, she picked the white box off the drawer and held it out to him.
“I don’t eat until you eat.”
*||*
Sighing, Constantine shook his head and pressed the intercom button.
“With all due respect, Senhora, you shouldn’t be making promises that only God has control of.”
He released the button and ran his hand through his dark curls, his mind a maelstrom of thoughts. Bloody’s urgent instruction from that morning, Dr. Dalphina’s cryptic tidbit of information, all the rush to move out: this was all crazy. He took up a contract with the Clock Tower to invent things, not kill people with them. A little voice in his head spoke as his eyes drifted to the device on the table: All you’ve created, since taking up with the Bloody Rose, are things meant for no other purpose than killing. Your hands are just as bloody as hers. He squeezed his eyes shut, mentally kicking himself for making that hasty decision all those years ago. Why didn’t he just walk the other way that day?
Constantine reached for the button again, ready to submit his verbal resignation, but hesitated. Bloody sounded sincere when she said she needed him for this meeting, and she’d always had been sincere; she’d always meant what she said. He sighed again, giving himself another mental kick for the words leaving his mouth: “I’m assuming that, like your right arm, you wouldn’t want me at this little reunion of yours, unprepared. Give me four hours… then I’ll go with you.”
Posted: Sun Jun 15, 2014 2:47 pm
Darkerdemons
Amaroq K
((Announcement: Some of you may be eager to move on, but I regret to inform you that there will be a delay in the second chapter, as I will be closing the forum down for renovations as soon as the first chapter is concluded. The reasons behind this decision are: 1) To improve your RP'ing experience, 2) To better my DM/GM abilities, and 3) To map out the next plot points in the next chapter.
I can't say how long the forum will be closed for role-playing, but during that time the OOC will remain open for chatting and all that other fun stuff.
What you can expect after the renovations are complete:
--Spiffy minor details about the RP, which includes a selected track for its theme song.
--A detailed foundation for the beginning of our story (I realize now that the existing one a little vague).
--An updated character skeleton: you will have to fill out it out and resubmit your character(s) profiles. Now's a good time to develop those histories, personas, and abilities.
--An update on the setting, including a list of places the cast may visit, with points of interest.
--An updated casting list that involves less scrolling and more clicking.
Bloody sighed with relief and nearly shouted for joy. She couldn't believe that she had managed to convince Constantine to go. He had been reluctant to join the business in the first place. The killing never really appealed to him to say the least. The fact that he had stayed this long was a miracle in and of itself. She had been saved by his inventions more than one time in the period that he had joined the organization. She took in a deep breath through her nose and then breathed it out through her nose slowly. She had been agitated all day thanks to the appearance of her past. A little bit more relaxed than she was before she pressed the intercom button. "You got it, You should know by now that I don't make promises that I don't intend to keep," she said into the intercom, "That being said, I'm pretty sure we'll only have to talk, stay for a day or two, and then head home," she finished as she took her finger off the button.
Posted: Sun Jun 15, 2014 4:34 pm
Darkerdemons
Amaroq K
((Announcement: Regarding the abilities portion of the new character skeleton's: DO NOT come in with OP (overpowered) characters; this also applies to their weapons. Like the story-line, your characters abilities should be developed overtime. More details on this to come.))
Jaw clenching, Alex stared at the wall as if willing to drill a hole in it instead if resting his hands on it. Instead, he reflected on Trikks' comment about the changes in employment. Matching her words with those of Cookie’s and the rumours he heard prior to applying to the position, he wondered if the previous butlers felt Zedd’s expectations were too much and handed in their notices. He didn’t recall seeing ‘able to dodge bullets’ or ‘previous combat training preferred’ in the job description in the paper. ‘Poison testing’ and ‘undergoing pat downs’ wasn’t in the description either. Based on his mood this morning, Zedd probably didn’t want to bother with searching for another butler. Alex didn’t want to search for another job either. He meant what he said to Cookie; he enjoyed working for Zedd.
Alex lowered his hands and turned to face Trikks. After stepping towards her and accepting the box, he unwrapped the ribbon – which was placed on the dresser – and opened the box. A small wooden spoon rested inside the box. Alex used the spoon to section off a small portion of the tiramisu, but returned the utensil to the box and gingerly popped the small piece in his mouth with his fingers. Licking his fingers clean, Alex then offered the box back to Trikks.
“It tastes fine,” was his only comment on the dessert.
-|-
Rose waited in Zen’s office until the owner finally opened the door and walked in.
“Good afternoon, Rae. I received notice that you were here, but I apologize, I was caught up in a discussion. Have you heard of The Ivory Dahlia?”
“Good afternoon, Zen. I get the flowers for my office from them. They have a good selection and are wise enough to recommend something that isn’t too overpowering for my patients.”
“Two charming workers from the shoppe dropped in for an early morning drink, judging by their words, I’d take a guess that they were the head florist and her assistant.”
“You’ve met Marie and Petra, then?”
“Indeed.”
“Petra always seemed free-spirited enough, but I wouldn’t have thought it of Marie.”
“I imagine she was keeping Miss Petra company.”
“That’s a possibility,” Rose admitted. She then steered the topic in the direction of the reason she’d come. “The Tower will be vacant for a few days. I realize you don’t usually go near the Tower, but I was wondering if you could keep an eye on the place while we’re gone.”
“I imagine the rumors around it would keep people from prying.”
Rose chuckled.
“Even so.”
Zen bowed.
“It will be done. In the meantime can I tempt you to a small drink?”
“I don’t usually take an afternoon drink.”
“You’re usually working in the afternoon – or else eating a simple lunch,” Zen noted. Raising an eyebrow at the android, Rose then smiled.
“I can stay for one quick drink.”
Posted: Mon Jun 16, 2014 5:21 pm
Darkerdemons
Amaroq K
Seconds passed after Alex had deemed the cake fit for consumption, but Trikks kept the gun on him nonetheless. In spite of the butler’s willingness to taste the cake, she wasn’t about to let her guard down just because it tasted “fine”. Silent, Trikks checked for irregularities in his breathing, studied his pupils for dilation, and swept his features for the slightest film of sweat; certain symptoms of poisoning took time to surface while others were immediate. When he didn’t collapse into a fit of seizures, she slipped the safety back into place, and the pistol’s whine turned into a dull hum as it powered down. Tucking the firearm into the back of her trousers, Trikks took the box back from Alex.
Trikks crossed the room and seated herself on the windowsill, resting her back against the frame as she opened box and retrieved the spoon. She closed her eyes at the first bite. The instant the morsel touched her palette, the tension visibly melted off her body, exposing just how fatigued she truly was. Then her eyebrows knit together, as if a memory came unbidden, and tear budded in the outer corner of her eye, threatening to spill over. Lips trembling, she set the spoon down, wiping the tear away with a shaky hand. A ragged breath left her.
Just then, a small tinkling of glass broke the silence and Trikks’ eyes popped open. Realizing that she wasn’t alone, she turned her attention to her bed, where Quentin hovered while turning a small, glass object over in his prongs. Her nostalgia left her, that instant.
“Put that down!”
Startled by her heated tone, the little droid released the object. It fell, bouncing off the mattress and hitting the floor, where it shattered into hundreds of pieces. Eyelids drooped with worry, Quentin drifted toward the glittering mess, but Trikks stopped him before he could place his bronzed appendage on a single shard: “Don’t touch it.” Quentin looked up at her and was met with a sharp look of disapproval. Thoroughly rebuked, the robotic scarab rejoined Alex, hovering just behind him in an attempt to avoid Trikks’ gaze.
Giving a small shake of her head, Trikks tore her attention away from the glass remnants and looked out the dingy window. Her eyes narrowed at the street below. “You came here by bike, didn’t you.”
*||*
“Obrigado, Senhora. I’ll let you know when I’ve finished.”
Constantine released the button and turned toward his work station. With that matter settled, maybe he’d be able to get some real work done. Who knows? If left alone, uninterrupted, he might even finish before the four hour window closed. Slipping a pair of magnifying goggles over his eyes, the inventor took up the soldering tool once more.
Noticing Trikks’ change in demeanor with her bite of tiramisu, Alex’s eyebrows lifted. The moment of ease vanished the moment Quentin disturbed the peace. Alex massaged his brow with one hand after Quentin shattered the glass ornament. Although one could blame the droid’s imperfect system, any human might’ve responded to Trikks’ sudden outburst in much the same way.
“Yes. And I’ll be able to leave once you tell me your opinion on the cake.” He hoped that frown of hers didn’t suggest that her actions to ensure her personal safety took too much time. Was the bike now being stolen or trashed? Theft being more likely since it would be worth more in one piece. He lowered his hand. “So…?” he asked expectantly.
Posted: Mon Jun 16, 2014 11:40 pm
Darkerdemons
"I'll take you back."
Closing the box, Trikks wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and that moment of vulnerability vanished when she rose off the windowsill.
Crossing the room, she avoided the shards and approached the molding footboard, where she’d carelessly discarded her duster coat. She slipped the coat on, concealing her feminine form beneath the beaten fabric, then started on her boots. A minute after her boots were secured, Trikks located her pistol holster beneath her pillow and marched toward for the closet. There was only one item inside: it’s metal construct suggested a vehicle of sort (a chassis, an engine, wide tire treading along the outside)--collapsible, like the bike, but much bigger. Trikks hefted the thing out of the closet with ease, then turned toward Alex.
Bloody breathed a sigh of relief now that her mechanic and inventor was going to come with them. She wanted to make a statement to her father, just in case her building one of the best assassination organizations the world had ever seen hadn't already made her point. She then went back to her hidden armory and picked up two bracelets that were a little bulky. They could have even been called armor except they were capable of firing thin, but tough knives. This let her be a little more choosy when actually throwing knives. Instead of having to rely on them and her close combat skills. It was gas powered and made little noise. They could hold up to eight of the little knives at a time and could be reloaded in a similar fashion to guns. She pulled up her sleeves and strapped them on, making sure that the part that fired the knives was above the top of her hand. Along with the hidden invisible string that fired the mechanism on her ring finger. All she had to do was make a fist and it would fire. She could even hold it down to fire in rapid succession. This invention of Constantine's was one of her favorites. She had forgotten what he had called it.
Posted: Sun Jun 22, 2014 9:10 pm
Thornwick
Alex intended to decline Trikks’ offer. Her words and her attitude didn’t make it sound like an offer though – it was more like a statement of fact. He didn’t fancy finding his way back to the bakery relying solely on Quentin anyways. The butler opened the door and stepped back into the hallway. Predicting that Trikks would have him lead the way down the stairs as well, Alex made his way back to the first floor once again. The box he’d arrived with was already gone. The treats it contained were presumably safely stored elsewhere if not being enjoyed by some of the other residents. After checking over his shoulder for Quentin, Alex opened the front door. Squinting as the bright sunlight hit his eyes, Alex blinked a few times before shifting his gaze to where his bike used to be.
Sure enough, there was no trace of the bicycle he’d arrived on. Nor was there any trace of the one who took it. A grim smile grew on Alex’s lips. Perhaps he should’ve asked to bring the bike inside the building. A little extra dirt on the floor wouldn’t be noticed. Besides, Trikks kept her mode of transportation in her room. The butler headed down the steps and then turned to see if Trikks was out yet. If he remained in Zedd’s service long enough to return to this place, he noted he would ask to keep the bike inside. The only problem then was: how trustworthy were the residents?
Not far behind him, Trikks stepped around Alex and set her burden down onto the street. She took a step back, producing a small remote, and aimed it at the unidentified object. With the push of a button, the misshapen pile of metal started to expand in a series hisses, its metal pieces sliding and locking into place like the pieces of a puzzle. In time, the tangle of metal and gears turned into a sleek, bronze wheel that stood a foot-and-a-half taller than its owner, encompassing a body commonly seen on motorcycles. The last piece slid into place, signaling that the transformation was complete. The afternoon sun glinted off the monowheel, causing it to glitter like a giant wedding band; compared to its surroundings, it was well-maintained and cared for. Trikks stepped off the sidewalk and swung her leg over seat. She settled in, slipping a pair of goggles over her eyes before looking over at Alex. With a c**k of her head, she indicated the side-car over to her right.
