@pyrogram: I used your violence and insubordination as a launching pad to get it.
Pyrogram making things easier for Closure for months and months to come :D
Pair a' Normals Pawn - An Everafter Location
@closure: Cool points? For what?
But yeah I have some stuff I can do here with Shinji and...
@pyrogram: I thought it would make more sense than introducing
Jumpers =P
@closure@shawn_baptiste: Comfort. The neighborhood gave her a silent sense of comfort. The feeling was almost as spiritual as her visits to New Orleans or Yorubaland. Angel de Lavigne felt the tangible magical energy in the morning breeze that sifted through her long liqourice locks. The morning warmth kept a silent smile on her face and eyes. She came here to complete a simple favor-- One for a close friend, mentor and brother. The task was simple: deliver the Akaitume mask to a man named Emmanuel. Shinji even left her a Polaroid photo of Emmanuel and Shinji together for visual clarity.
The mystical Mask of Akaitume was concealed within her COMME DES GARCON clutch. Shinji briefed her on the possible danger of carrying the artifact and the people she would possibly encounter in pursuit of it, but the reason behind her transferring the item instead of him sent a chill up her neck. Even thinking over it now.
She broke away from the thought and the read the sign: Pair a' Normals Pawn. She sighed and entered the shop ready to get the artifact off her hands.
Welcome, the race of Djinn ;)
About ten minutes of nice, quiet walking later and Blake could see the bar's neon sign down the street clearly in the night; "The End of the Rainbow Pub", multicolored letters shown boldly emblazoned by the darkness surrounding it. What got the wolf running however wasn't the sight, but the yelling and smashing sounds coming straight from the parking lot. It didn't take him long at all to lay his eyes on the strange 'fight' going on; two big thugs were trying to keep hold on a much smaller man- except the man had horns and the lower body of a goat, and was yelling what Blake assumed to be curses in some kind of bastardized Latin. All the while an even shorter, dwarf-like old timer with a beard and a busted nose was yelling some much more more understandable curses. Believable or not, stuff like had become a rather common sight in Everafter.
Letting out an audible sigh as he approached the madness from behind, Blake pushes past the little bearded fellow -who quickly quiets down- and takes a closer look at the fight for a moment. The almost 6'5ft tall thugs still hadn't noticed his arrival, far too busy trying to keep a hold on the extremely willful Satyr who was currently atop a car and throwing a steady stream of drunken kicks and punches upon the duo whenever they stepped close enough... "Alright, that's enough!" Blake yells; bringing the action to an immediate stop with his loud, almost bestial voice.
"Oh, um, hello there sheri-" One of the giants start to say only to get interrupted by a cheap shot to his throat by the goatman, barking and seemingly ready to throw a counter strike until the skin-clad wolf takes a step forward... making him take a step back. Raising his eyes to the familiar man atop the car, the Satyr slowly gets out of a fighting position and eventually steps down, his hooves clicking on the asphalt. "Smart thinking, Homer." Blake says to the younger supernatural, taking drag of his cigarette before turning to the bearded old man behind him.
"So what's the story this time Connor?" The little old man hesitantly stepped up to the wolf, his green outfit now showing brightly in the light and his flustered features being shown off more openly in the light. "Sheri- Mr. Dedrick, I'm not sure who called you but they were wasting your time." Connor said in a polite, but nervous, Irish accent; his tone hiding a small dash of weaselness beneath it. Kneeling down a little bit to meet the dwarf face-to-face, the wolf puffs a thin cloud of smoke in his face before replying.
"I'll decide what is and isn't a waste of my time, Connor, so I'll ask again: what was going on here?" The leprechaun backs away fearfully upon seeing the wolf's eyes through the smoke... the noxious cloud revealing they're animalistic nature for a moment before dissipating. "A-alright sheriff, I didn't mean to offend of course!" Connor mutters out slightly frantically as he tries to recall the series of events and... modify them, only a little bit.
"That horned vagabond over there, he was causing a ruckus in my establishment! When I asked him to leave he hit me with a bloody haymaker!" The old man pointed at the young Satyr standing away from them, and sure enough Blake could smell the old man's blood on his knuckles. "Alright, that's one part of the story down; but there is still the matter of what you're boys were trying to do with him out here. Why didn't you just throw him out and call me?" Turning to take a look at the at the two thugs, he could smell the glamour on them and he silently wondered what was hidden beneath the disguise.
Blake's train of thought was lost when the old leprechaun started talking again with his high-pitched but still ragged voice... the kind of voice that is tortuous for someone with a normal sense of hearing, much moreso for the wolf. "When my bouncers tossed him out he kept coming and trying to rough me up, sheriff! They were just trying to, err, calm him down when you arrived... I didn't feel the need to call you since this was simply an act of drunken anger is all!" Lowering his eyes back onto the Satyr, by the name of Homer, the skin-clad wolf examined him... he wasn't speaking up, but he clearly wasn't agreeing with the Irishman's words; his facial expression, the way he crossed his arms at certain times in Connor's story, even the beat of his heart. Something more was clearly going on here.
"Okay, unless someone wants to debate that tale...?" Dedrick says slowly, obviously giving Homer a chance to tell his side of the story, but just as he expects the young Satyr stays quiet. "Then it seems we're done here. C'mon Homer, your coming with me; and don't make it harder on yourself than it needs to be." The skin-clad wolf says while taking another drag of his cigarette and standing up straight, beckoning for the Satyr to follow. After some moments the willful goatman reluctantly steps up to Blake and silently follows when he starts making his way down the street.
TO BE CONTINUED
@closure said:
"I did the rounds, but I wasn't happy about it." His aggravation can be seen above his forehead by the pulsating motion of an unsteady halo apparition. "We help them live and what do I get? Complaints. Ugh." It's nothing new, his seemingly eternal irritation with their tenants, but to hear his complaints was something that shouldn't be wished upon the worst of enemies. They had a way of making ear's bleed.
"Did I hear that right?" Having entered the shop through a side entrance, which worked as the shop's sole connection to their complex, Manny had not yet noticed the presence of the unforeseen customer (@essence_), though he should have, but instead he cracked up after hearing his brother (@shawn_baptiste) utter the family store's minute made slogan. And although it wasn't the catchiest tune nor the smartest, every time Shawn spoke it with an almost upbeat tone which clashed against his devilish aesthetic, the ability to hold back laughter was nearly impossible.
"Aw. Que lindo!" If Spanish were his native tongue the surprisingly angelic born landlord wouldn't know, but for some time now he had a thing for speaking the language as means of appearing cultured, so he exclaimed with a forced accent before covering his mouth.
"Oh damn!" He mentally forced his halo to evaporate so that his cover could not be blown. With that done, the white tee and skinny jeans wearing paragon of virtue basked in the ambiance of her beauty. "I'm not suppose to be in heaven for another couple of years." He uttered against better judgement. Yet, there was nothing that could be done to stop him, because wheneverthe perpetually angry angel saw women he would immediately transition into a far more playful individual.
"I'm sorry, where are my manners?" Manny smiled, his lean muscle flexing in all the right places as he approached what could be his next romantic venture. "Good morning, sweetheart." Using his height, which he believed withheld an advantage in the game of romance, Emmanuel asked with the deepest of sincerity, "What can a pair of normal guys do for you?"
@valken said:
Welcome, the race of Djinn ;)
Those look cool. Reminds me of D&D.
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