Crooked Street

[Κομμα]

This streets snakes its way from the municipal center all the way to a bright yellow door at the end of Picadilly Way. Some say that it disappears underground after that. The local thugs often break out in turf wars trying to maintain their hold on this mercantile paradise. Despite the exorbitant rents, the prices are a steal. Rare books, bizarre clothing, exotic pets, weaponry - you name it, they have it. Be sure you buy a map along the way; not all shops are located along the streets. Enter a random building and you'll see what we mean.

[Rae]

Hi! Do you want to be my Super Best Friend? the note read. Let's be friends! -Chesty. P.S. I like games. Do you like games? Let's play a game! I'll give you a prize if you beat me, because that's what winners get. Losers bleed a lot and get eaten by worms.

Oh...kay, Marcus thought, staring blankly at the note. And that isn't creepy in the slightest. He wondered who'd found this...this...thing as he dropped the note back in the chest he'd found it in and closed and locked the old, wooden lid. He supposed it was a nice chest, slightly weather-worn, but the wood wasn't warped and the metal it was edged with was untarnished. But it was a chest. A piece of furniture. And this was a game store. Clearly someone needed their head checked...or maybe just their eyes checked.

Marcus straightened up and stretched, his deep violet t-shirt lifting slightly to show his navel. He didn't really care, though, since no snarky comment was directed at him from the doorway. The last few rays of the setting sun fell through the high back windows, casting colourful patterns on the floor and Marcus walked around putting up everything that needed to be put away. One must be helpful to their fellow creatures of darkness...or not.

The shadow man's boots caused slight puffs of dust to raise from the old wooden floors as he stalked towards the back room. He paused in the doorway, golden eyes looking for anything that seemed out of the ordinary...and he wasn't thinking of missing merchandise. See, no one needed the More Games store for the day, so he'd volunteered to watch it for them. And that had gone well...until someone he'd intended to meet later in the day showed up for lunch. In short, doors were locked and clothes got rather scattered around...and Marcus didn't really need that sort of complaining from his ever-so-jealous maker right now. Verin had issues with breaking others toys...not that Reaver could ever be called his toy.

Satisfied that nothing looked out of place, he locked the door and went to lock up the old brass register. Nothin' better than going home at the end of a busy, busy day, he thought dryly. Marcus knew he could have asked his friend to help him, but he was far too--what was Reaver's word, again?--indolent to do that. He could do take care of one little shop on his own; he'd done it hundred of times before. No need to get the kid involved.

Once he felt everything was locked up better than a nun's legs and the lights were turned out, he wandered over to the 'kid' in question. Reaver cut an odd figure in the doorway; him being oddly tall (only a couple inches under Marcus's own 6'9") and lithe. He was stronger than he looked, though. He was faster, too. Marcus was glad he'd talked him into (and, on occassion, out of) a more modern version of his usual white suit. The other man's eyes were closed, his head resting back on the door frame he was leaning against, stray curls of dark hair falling into his face. Anyone else, Marcus would have crept up to and kissed, or done something equally sneaky. But he knew if he tried that with Reaver, he'd end up with a very painful 48 caliber bullet in his brain. Not how he wanted to end his day.

"My dear, dear Marcus," Reaver said slowly, keeping his eyes closed, "I understand you must attend to business, but really"--he gave a slight, extremely soft, chuckle--"couldn't you have had this chap come to speak with you? If this is such the lucrative arrangement you claim it to be, I would think one would be rather more forthcoming on...dividing the spoils."

Marcus shrugged. "He said he was busy," was all the shadow man would say, and, in his opinion, it was all he needed to say.

Blue eyes so dark they looked black opened to watch him a moment. "I do suppose that's as good a reason as any, though he is making himself out to be a rather poor host."

Marcus laughed, locking the door behind them as they left. Night had fallen now, and the shadows were far deeper on the street than Marcus had ever seen other wise. He glanced at Reaver out of the corner of his eye as he checked the time on hsi pocket watch. Reaver, despite looking like any other handsome twenty-something year old, always had shadows around him, though Marcus was sure only he could see them. Maybe it was a reflection of his secrets? Marcus didn't really care; he was like a chocolate you wanted to eat despite knowing the centre was pure poison. "If we're quick about this delivery, we can make it to the theatre in an hour."

"A markedly better option than dealing with this odious man," his companion agreed, before a smug smirk spread across his lips. "Though I really must question your logic in being quick about anything. Far more enjoyable to be as deliciously slow as possible with our pleasures."

Another man would have blushed, but Marcus could only grin and start off down the street.

( Sorry for the ginormous post!)

[Elindë]

He came out of the shop that seemed to him to be his world superimposed here. Apart from its name which he was now commiting to memory; that was definitely not from his world. He threw one of the knives he'd 'bought' up in the air and caught it by it's black handle - black with a delicate spider's web inlayed in silver at the end of the handle. It's twin was still sheathed at his belt. The rest of his outfit was his, though it wasn't as camoflaguing as it used to be. He supposed he should be glad that black and grey no longer hid one in the canopy, and that green and brown were, in that sense the new black. It worked well here though, against grimy bricks and gathering gloom. But no matter. He sheathed the knife, pulled his deep hood as far over his face as it would go, and went exploring.

The street was still thronged even at this hour. Or maybe especially at this hour. Stalls stood infront of the more permanent shops, most of them selling fake goods; leather, vintage wine, drugs even. He could walk past all that with an air of mild curiousity. But one stall he couldn't walk past was one selling coloured glass, claiming it to be jewels.

He moved towards the stall and stood behind a woman handling a 'diamond'. "It's fake, my dear," he told her, eyeing the stall holder as he spoke.

"He doesn't know what he's talking about," the merchant retorted, "of course it's real!"

"And now he's lying. If it was real, you couldn't do this." He took the dimaond from the woman and smashed it on the table."

"You aren't from round here," the merchant croned, "so I shan't kill you this time. But next time, you don't ask funny questions about others, alright."

"I very much doubt you could kill me."

"Challenge accepted."

The merchant leapt over his stall will surprising dexterity but the other was already sprinting down the street. "Coward!" The merchant cried as he followed suit, scaling the wall and running after the grass.

But on the wall, the taller figure stopped and turned round. He saw the merchant running at him, saw him take a gun out of his pocket. Drawing his knives he ran towards him and, before the other could shoot, drew a deep, red cross on his chest. The knives whistled passed each other as they crossed ways. The merchant fell backwards, eyes round with shock, and crashed onto piles of boxes below. He never moved again.

"Self defense," the stranger muttered as a group of burly men gathered round their fallen fellow. They looked up, saw the dark figure on the wall above him and began scaling the wall, promising revenge. Their quarry didn't move for a while. Something clicked in his mind and he smiled, "On second thought; sod self defense." And he led them away from the populous street so he could tackle them in private.

[Rae]

It was around the time Marcus decided he was going to have to take his friend out for Chinese food to see if his author was really correct about Samarkand being the equivalent of Asia when he heard the commotion. Glancing at Reaver, who was leaning on his walking stick with a look of amusement on his face, he realized he wasn't the only one who'd heard it. The shadow man sighed and shook his head. People...always having to cause problems. How odd, though...it didn't sound like a gang war, or even the usual haggling issue.

The shadow man shook his head again and crouched down by a store's foundation. He lifted one of the bricks out and put a small box in after removing an equally small bag from the hide-y hole.

"It's a delight to know certain things are exactly the same in both worlds," Reaver observed dryly, looking down the street as he continued to lean on the walking stick. Lovely thing, the stick. Shiny black wood with a rather large diamond-like gem a top it. Of course...it wasn't a diamond. But, really? Who would ever know an Old Kingdom control crystal in these parts?

"What d'you mean?" Marcus asked, struggling to make the box fit in.

"Oh, simple things," Reaver replied offhandedly. "A lack of vision...petty wars...peasants."

A passerby who'd overheard him gave him a startled, deeply-offended look to which he paid no heed.

Marcus raised his eyebrows as he shoved the box in. "That doesn't sound like the work of...eh...'peasants'." He replaced the brick. "Let's go see what's going on...nothing better to do here right now, anyway."

And. with that, Marcus led them towards the commotion.

[Elindë]

Lovai trotted ahead of Rucran and out into the street. The contrast between it and the back alleys was amazing, though the stall Ruc had cited was standing unmanned. A woman blinked at him and Lovai tried to smile back, but then he noticed the small shards of glass, sone on the table and some on the cobbles by the woman's feet. Glancing back at Rucran and Karimi, Lovai stepped further out into the street and looked to his left.

"What on earth has happened?" he whispered as he saw the swarm of people, a little like ants, around the base of the opposite wall a few hundred yards further down the street.

When no one answered him, he wandered along the street and round the comotion, trying to get a better view of whatever it was in the centre but failing to do so.

[Rae]

Marcus left Reaver walking jauntily behind him to hurry and see what was going on. He was exceedingly curious by nature, everyone was quick to say so, and was known to forget his surrounndings in his excitement...which explained why he didn't see Lovai walking in his direction.

The shadow man crashed into him and stumbled backwards. He blinked, intending to regain some semblance of composure and apologize for not paying attention. Instead, he spotted Lovai and something in his brain clicked...linking him to an elf he'd met in a game, once.

"Hey...have we met?" He tilted his head. "You're an elf right?" The excitement of having crashed into someone he potentially knew made him hyper. Running into old friends was so much fun.

[Elindë]

Lovai whipped round and looked up into the Shadowman's golden eyes and squeaked. He stook of his hat and held it limply by his side; his white hair seemed to glow in the fading light.

"Sorry, I don't recall."

The Elf didn't really want to back away from the tall man but he just had to find out what the commotion was. "Do you know what happened?" He asked as an excuse to go and find out. He turned and pushed through a weak point in the crowd.

The merchant lay on his back, looking surprised up at the sky. His gun lay a short distance away from his hand and had fired its load into the wall. But what held the gaze were the two gashes in his chest, so precise that they were almost beautiful. So deep that the man's innards pretruded through them. Lovai made a winded sound of disgust. He wondered how the small girl Ruc was hopefully still with would react to seeing this, if she did. Lovai wrenched his eyes from the body back to the Shadowman as though he knew the answers to the questions piling into the inquisitive Elf's brain.

[Rae]

"Hmm," Marcus murmured, thinking. Oh, well; he'd figure it out later. He always remembered things in the end. Looking at the body, he tilted his head, and said in a faux-sagely manner, "Obviously, someone had an accidental misunderstanding with a knife."

The shadow man knelt down beside the body, admiring the cuts. The body was not yet cold, he could tell from the quickly fading aura. More to himself than anyone else, he whispered, "Our mysterious killer might be close."

"One would assume so," Reaver agreed, finally catching up to the pair. He neither looked winded nor repulsed by the body. At least this one wasn't in his study this time. Blood stains were so annoying to have the servants get out of the rugs. The former pirate glanced at Lovai and cocked an amused eyebrow at Marcus, "Making friends already, are we, love?"

Marcus gave him a slightly sulky look. "No, I know him. Somehow. Or...I think I do. Somehow."

He turned back to the body, neither knowing nor caring that anyone who didn't know him would think him madder than a hatter.

"Not that I care a jot, but is there anything in particular you're looking for?"

"I'm hungry," Marcus replied after a moment, clearly not listening to his compainion. He looked at Lovai. "So, since I can't remember, who are you?"

[Elindë]

Lovai straightened up and watched Marcus in disbelief. He found himself pointing behind him at the body, "Don't you care? Someone's lying dead with a bleeding x in his chest and you're hungry?" He shook his head. "I do not understand this place."

[Basil]

“Oh there you are!” A voice called out gaily.

A pretty young woman stepped out of the crowd. A soft tinkling followed her every step. It came from the bell attached to an ornate hair pin in her braided chignon. She snaked her arm round Lovai’s and turned to face his companion’s. Her tiny red and gold silk clutch swung from the arm entwined round the young muse's. She gave them a friendly little smile, acting as though they had bumped into each other at a fancy dressed party.

Her pale sage green gown certainly looked out of place in the crowded market place. The trailing lace cuffs, the opened lace collar and the silk ribbons only made it seem even more ridiculous in contrast to the most well-dressed present. Her albino coloring didn’t help either.

“Thank you so much for finding him, Marcus. It was oh so terribly crowded earlier. I really never thought I’d find him again,” she gushed as her eyes flit over to Reaver. “Well you and your charming friend.”

Her blood red eyes wondered to Marcus’ friend once more, briefly. “Definitely one of your most charming of friends. I don’t believe I’ve met him.”

Something told her that this stranger was someone who loved to be complimented. Erin was rather amused. Never had she seen a vainer creature in all of musedom. Looks like her little shopping trip was going to be anything but dull. It isn’t everyday you’d see a peacock. One with a dangerous vibe about him.

With a tinkling laugh, she turned to look at Lovai once more, not wanting to leave him out of the loop. “Do you know him too?”

[Rae]

Marcus was just about to explain to Lovai exactly why he wasn't pertrubed by the body when Erin's voice made him start. He beamed.

"Erin!" the shadow man exclaimed as if it was the best thing to ever occur in the history of occurances. "You're here!"

And, without further ado, he hugged her tightly. He liked hugging Erin; she was cuddly. Not as cuddly as his author, though. He didn't think anyone was more cuddly than her...when she wasn't being a bitch and snapping at everyone. Sometimes writers bit harder than it looked like they could.

Eventually, Marcus let go; still beaming. He was silent a moment, completely blank-minded until he remembered he had yet to introduce his companion. "Oh! This is Reaver. Reaver, Erin."

Reaver took a second to study Erin; his eyes taking her in like connoisseur before a rare painting. While Erin's dress wouldn't have looked very out of place in his world, her colouring was certainly exotic...and he did love the exotic. She held herself like a noble of his world, too, but, given his experiance, he saw what she was. How terribly amusing, he decided, that a common whore could out-class every noblewoman in Millfields. He wondered if she would accept an invitation to one of his parties. He made a note to ask her, if only to cause a scandal and give a metaphorical slap in the face to the women (and their husbands) who would attend.

Realizing that he'd not reacted in all of thirty seconds, he gave her a graceful bow, ignoring the hair falling into his face due to his lack of hat. He made as if to kiss her hand, stopping only a hair's breadth from actally kissing her. He straightened up, patented smirk in place, "A pleasure...." He glanced at Marcus. "And here I was doubting your certitude that there was anything worth rousing my interest in this...sty."

"Which is why people should stop doubting me," Marcus replied solumnly, body forgotten. Today, he decided, was turning out quite well.

[Κομμα]

(Sorry for taking so stupidly long to reply...real-life and a real-life/sinus induced migraine have gotten in the way. Should this continue to happen, much as I hate it, I might have to write my muse off from this particular RP somehow or other ><; I'll try to be a little more punctual in my posting and hope that doesn't end up happening.)

Karimi kept herself quiet. It was better not to interrupt adults when they were talking, especially adults she didn't know, especially ones that she wasn't picking up very good vibes off of. In particular, she shuffled away from the direction of Reaver and Marcus, trying to remain concealed behind Ruc and Lovai, for once quite glad for her short stature. She wasn't sure whether they were bad, but Ruc and Lovai still seemed nicer.

It was too loud here; between the chattering of the crowd around the body and the chattering within their own heads, it was nearly too much to take. She plunged her fingers behind her thick mess of pine-colored hair and into her ears, and was given the slightest bit of relief when this stifled most of the spoken voices she was hearing.

The eight-year-old flinched at the man on the ground a little and looked away; she had seen worse when her daddy's crew would get into fights, especially the one before she had gone to live with with her cousin, but that had been a long time ago now. Aside from the occasional bandit coming into her village and wreaking havoc, violence was at a bare minimum. The thoughts she could hear seeping from other people into her own mind painted her a vivid enough picture of the body, however, that it felt as thought she was still looking at him. She closed her eyes and tried to tune these out by listening specifically for Janx. Ice cream or no ice cream, the sooner she could get out of this place, the happier she would be.

[Elindë]

(Aww, Comma DX I hope you feel better soon; that sounds pretty hellish)

Lovai blinked at Erin and, as he knew nothing of her background, wondered what she was doing here... in such a strange outfit. But he was glad that he knew someone in this strange place from previous visits; he was beginning to wonder if he was in the same realm at all as before.

He closed an eye as Marcus and Reaver's banter floated over him and decided to stay out of it. All things considered he would rather strike up conversation with the body than with either of them, and Erin seemed to be fulfilling their interest at any rate.

A newcomer pressed against his shoulder to look at the body. "Urgh, another one," they said, "there's 3 more in the back alleys, all from the same gang."

Lovai flinched, "Is this a turf war then?" He asked the newcomer.

The woman twitched, surprised at having an audience, "Who's to say? Looks like it from their side though turf wars are generally noisier."

Lovai looked beyond her to Rucran and could just see the strange little girl behind him. She look scared and Lovai felt guilty. If he was feeling uncomfortable then he daren't think how she must me feeling. We should leave whatever this is and find 'Janx' or whatever his name is he thought, though somehow he felt that he at least was already involved in this disturbance.

Shouts from several blocks away came to him; it seemed the chase was going in circles. He could hear men shouting to each other about who would go where and attack when. From the sounds of things they were moving back down the street but then they stopped and ran back the other way, screaming. Mingled with their surprise was another voice which Lovai recognised. He closed his eyes and sighed. Then opened them and suddenly seemed exceeding interested in Marcus, Reaver and Erin.

[Rae]

(D: I hope you feel better soon, Comma. *huglz*)


Keeping a properly blank expression on his face, Marcus took a second to glance at Karimi. He had to admit...kids scared him. Kids were...were...more terrifying than bugs. At least a bug couldn't blow you into an alternate dimension like his kid could. He repressed the urge to shiver.

However, he noticed she seemed to be having an issue with the sounds around them...if her hands over her ears were any indication. Now, he'd had plenty of issues with hearing thoughts (it was how most of hs kind communicated) but he never let anyone hear his thoughts unless there was an emergency. Still...he could only imagine how loud the thoughts around here were...hopefull she couldn't hear lingering thoughts of the dead, too.

'Er...kiddie?' he thought to her. 'Little girl? Don't ya know how to make a wall?' He added the mental image of a large brick wall around his thoughts for good measure, and held back the curious musing of if she were a pirate. How exciting, two pirates meeting in an alleyway...one's a brat and the other's green. Kai would have glared at him.

He turned to the elf who had yet to say his name and said brightly, "I'm starting to think I have no idea who you are. I think the other was blond...er."

If his writer had been there, she would have banged her head on the wall.

[Elindë]

Lovai blinked, wondering how many blonde Elves there were arond here. He would have thought none but then Ruc was almost blonde.

"If you mean Phoenix," Lovai said (it still seemed weird calling Eldu that), "then he's my guardian here... kind of.... ish." And he's currently on a killing spree; what a fantastic role model he is, something at the very back of his subconscious brain thought. His conscious brain metaphorically swallowed and hoped the thought was deep enough for Marcus not to notice; he wasn't a mind reader himself but his latent magic told him than Marcus and Karimi were. "Or rather, I'm his protégé, we aren't related or anything." He exrended a hand, "Wylofain. I do believe Erin called you Marcus?"