Lutin Cartel
Established
Roleplay posts: 39
Physical Description: Elin: http://i.imgur.com/GcvE4CS.png
Jimmie Eclair: http://i.imgur.com/F0dlyzr.jpg
Registered: Dec 11, 2015 14:21:53 GMT -8
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Post by Lutin Cartel on Feb 24, 2016 19:11:39 GMT -8
One of the cartel's many safehouses in Bayonne, this one is hidden in the basement of a candy shop.
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Lutin Cartel
Established
Roleplay posts: 39
Physical Description: Elin: http://i.imgur.com/GcvE4CS.png
Jimmie Eclair: http://i.imgur.com/F0dlyzr.jpg
Registered: Dec 11, 2015 14:21:53 GMT -8
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Post by Lutin Cartel on Feb 24, 2016 19:15:35 GMT -8
Maes would wake up chained to a chair, in a dark basement. The chair is steel, with shackles built in. It's clear that this chair has been used to restrain people before. Elin sits in front of him, sucking on a lollypop. "Oh, you're awake. Listen, nothing personal, alright? I actually wanted to help you, in the beginning. I told my higher-ups who you were looking for, and...well..." She gestures helplessly towards his shackles, still sucking on the candy. "No hard feelings, alright?"
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Maes
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: 23
Physical Description: Maes is human, and stands at five feet and eight inches, all parts frail and spindly. His skin is a shade of alabaster so pale that dark veins and bright arteries can be seen beneath, sometimes appearing to crawl beneath the flesh of their own volition. His eyes seem the color of a worn road stone, grey and lifeless. Lusterless black hair, several inches too long, dangles from his white scalp in uneven cuts. Despite his graven appearance, no mark of exertion, be it sweat or road-dust, seem to settle on him.
...
Clothes and Equipment: Dark, frayed robes hang from Maes's gaunt frame, as though someone had thrown a bed linen over a wrought iron fence. A jagged looking medallion of opaque white crystal clings to the dark cloth as though the chain on which it dangles is only decoration. In stark contrast, his boots look nearly immaculate, evidence perhaps of a past life of luxury, or merely an opportune acquisition from one who enjoyed it.
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Registered: Feb 20, 2016 17:23:10 GMT -8
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Post by Maes on Feb 24, 2016 19:26:21 GMT -8
Maes struggled momentarily against the shackles. No, he had to remain calm. Everything was blurry. The voice was still invading his thoughts, but it was more of a muffled mumble now. We need to ascertain our situation, he thought. Wait, we?
He looked up at who he assumed was Elin. "You work for him?" The words felt weird coming from his lips. Almost like they were as alien as the rambling voice. He wanted to leap out of the chair and remove the skin of her face with his hands. Patience, he thought. I must have patience. I must have patience. He repeated it like a mantra while his vision cleared.
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The Godmother
Committed
Roleplay posts: 60
Age: 38
Physical Description: The Godmother is tall and lithe with red hair and a pretty face; a beauty in every sense of the word. She has a very persuasive smile, and is never seen frowning. The constant use of pure fairy dust has made her look fairly young for her age.
Clothes and Equipment: Extremely fancy clothing, imported all the way from Katashima. The Godmother carries a long, thin knife (poisoned) and a pouch of fairy dust wherever she goes.
Registered: Dec 5, 2015 10:11:14 GMT -8
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Post by The Godmother on Feb 24, 2016 19:36:01 GMT -8
Elin is about to answer, but a tall woman in a tight dress steps out of the darkness and places a hand on her shoulder. The woman smiles, and jerks her head towards the door. Elin nods and leaves, waving to Maes before she goes. The tall woman with the red hair sits down in the now-empty chair.
"Elin does not work for our mutual friend, Mr. Maes. She works for me, as does Mr. Redegar. As it stands, I cannot allow you to kill him. He is such a valuable asset, after all."
Her voice is silky smooth, and strangely calming. She seems to sparkle in the darkness, somehow.
"So, Mr. Maes. Let's talk. I don't suppose you'd like to leave town and never return?"
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Maes
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: 23
Physical Description: Maes is human, and stands at five feet and eight inches, all parts frail and spindly. His skin is a shade of alabaster so pale that dark veins and bright arteries can be seen beneath, sometimes appearing to crawl beneath the flesh of their own volition. His eyes seem the color of a worn road stone, grey and lifeless. Lusterless black hair, several inches too long, dangles from his white scalp in uneven cuts. Despite his graven appearance, no mark of exertion, be it sweat or road-dust, seem to settle on him.
...
Clothes and Equipment: Dark, frayed robes hang from Maes's gaunt frame, as though someone had thrown a bed linen over a wrought iron fence. A jagged looking medallion of opaque white crystal clings to the dark cloth as though the chain on which it dangles is only decoration. In stark contrast, his boots look nearly immaculate, evidence perhaps of a past life of luxury, or merely an opportune acquisition from one who enjoyed it.
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Registered: Feb 20, 2016 17:23:10 GMT -8
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Post by Maes on Feb 24, 2016 19:46:43 GMT -8
Maes doesn't answer at first. I must have patience.He repeats it over and over. The voice is getting louder again. Almost as if it's moving toward the surface of some lake of gelatin.
"I will leave your town after Redagar dies by my hand." The words come out evenly, clearly, and without emphasis or drama. "If you want me to leave before that, send him away and I will kill him there instead."
He was dimly aware of a numbness spreading from his hands and feet. He repeated it again. I must have patience.
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The Godmother
Committed
Roleplay posts: 60
Age: 38
Physical Description: The Godmother is tall and lithe with red hair and a pretty face; a beauty in every sense of the word. She has a very persuasive smile, and is never seen frowning. The constant use of pure fairy dust has made her look fairly young for her age.
Clothes and Equipment: Extremely fancy clothing, imported all the way from Katashima. The Godmother carries a long, thin knife (poisoned) and a pouch of fairy dust wherever she goes.
Registered: Dec 5, 2015 10:11:14 GMT -8
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Post by The Godmother on Feb 24, 2016 20:21:00 GMT -8
"Mm hmm. I figured as much."
The godmother leans back in her chair, crossing her legs casually.
"Alright, Mr. Maes. The issue is this. Mr. Redagar is a very strong asset. He helps me get things done, wihen I need things done. If I let you go, you will try and kill him. You may very well succeed, and then I will be put a man. Do you understand?"
She stretches, smiling.
"However...if you can prove yourself a more useful man, and you agree to work with me, then I won't be out a man! I'll break even! So how about that, hmm? You prove yourself, agree to work for me, and you can murder him all you like. Sounds good?"
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Maes
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: 23
Physical Description: Maes is human, and stands at five feet and eight inches, all parts frail and spindly. His skin is a shade of alabaster so pale that dark veins and bright arteries can be seen beneath, sometimes appearing to crawl beneath the flesh of their own volition. His eyes seem the color of a worn road stone, grey and lifeless. Lusterless black hair, several inches too long, dangles from his white scalp in uneven cuts. Despite his graven appearance, no mark of exertion, be it sweat or road-dust, seem to settle on him.
...
Clothes and Equipment: Dark, frayed robes hang from Maes's gaunt frame, as though someone had thrown a bed linen over a wrought iron fence. A jagged looking medallion of opaque white crystal clings to the dark cloth as though the chain on which it dangles is only decoration. In stark contrast, his boots look nearly immaculate, evidence perhaps of a past life of luxury, or merely an opportune acquisition from one who enjoyed it.
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Registered: Feb 20, 2016 17:23:10 GMT -8
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Post by Maes on Feb 24, 2016 20:40:28 GMT -8
The numbness in his arms and legs started to fade. A viable, if unexpected option had been presented. The voice reversed direction and started to subside.
"Prove myself? In what way? I won't be a murderer for hire."
Maes didn't wait for her answer. "You bring him here. You let me kill him. I'll work with you."
"And you wouldn't break even. I'm ten times more powerful than a lowlife cutthroat murderer."
He let his last statement sink in, staring into her eyes, unblinking.
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The Godmother
Committed
Roleplay posts: 60
Age: 38
Physical Description: The Godmother is tall and lithe with red hair and a pretty face; a beauty in every sense of the word. She has a very persuasive smile, and is never seen frowning. The constant use of pure fairy dust has made her look fairly young for her age.
Clothes and Equipment: Extremely fancy clothing, imported all the way from Katashima. The Godmother carries a long, thin knife (poisoned) and a pouch of fairy dust wherever she goes.
Registered: Dec 5, 2015 10:11:14 GMT -8
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Post by The Godmother on Feb 24, 2016 20:53:57 GMT -8
"You won't be a murderer for money, but you will for free?"
The Godmother smiles.
"I won't bring him here. Go and get him yourself. That should be proof enough, don't you think?"
Reaching into her pocket, she pulls out a small pen.
"As for your contract...it's simple. You sign on the dotted line, and you're mine. Another toy to play with. How's that sound, hmm? Sign the contract, and it's Redagar open season."
She produces a long contract, written on parchment.
"Written up by my lawyer."
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Maes
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: 23
Physical Description: Maes is human, and stands at five feet and eight inches, all parts frail and spindly. His skin is a shade of alabaster so pale that dark veins and bright arteries can be seen beneath, sometimes appearing to crawl beneath the flesh of their own volition. His eyes seem the color of a worn road stone, grey and lifeless. Lusterless black hair, several inches too long, dangles from his white scalp in uneven cuts. Despite his graven appearance, no mark of exertion, be it sweat or road-dust, seem to settle on him.
...
Clothes and Equipment: Dark, frayed robes hang from Maes's gaunt frame, as though someone had thrown a bed linen over a wrought iron fence. A jagged looking medallion of opaque white crystal clings to the dark cloth as though the chain on which it dangles is only decoration. In stark contrast, his boots look nearly immaculate, evidence perhaps of a past life of luxury, or merely an opportune acquisition from one who enjoyed it.
...
Registered: Feb 20, 2016 17:23:10 GMT -8
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Post by Maes on Feb 25, 2016 14:37:55 GMT -8
The voice was back. The anger came with it. Maes could feel his hands and feet numbing again. It didn't feel like it was related to the drug now. The voice kept repeating the same words. "Rektos mygar fiernam. Rektos mygar fiernam." Over and over.
The Godmother would start to see an eerie green glow in Maes's eyes that spread slowly through his veins like green wine spilled under his skin. His visage would become more and more preternaturally horrifying.
Maes found himself mouthing the words in his mind. "Rektos mygar fiernam. Rektos mygar fiernam." Some unfamiliar heat was building in his abdomen. "Rektos mygar fiernam."
Finally he gave voice to the words, shouting so loudly he surprised himself. "Rektos mygar fiernam!" His arms and legs flew from the now liquified shackles, sending bits of molten metal flying. The smell of burning flesh was only a moment behind, but he did not feel it. In fact he couldn't feel much of anything except anger and desperation.
A sight now probably more horrifying than anything the Godmother had witnessed, Maes stood up from the chair. The green wine beneath his skin spilled out like vapor onto the floor, making a smoky pool. "Drumen quantin portas," he heard himself saying and he sank slowly into the floor.
Seconds later he was gone, the only sign he'd been there a bit of singed flesh on the remains of the chairs shackles.
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The Godmother
Committed
Roleplay posts: 60
Age: 38
Physical Description: The Godmother is tall and lithe with red hair and a pretty face; a beauty in every sense of the word. She has a very persuasive smile, and is never seen frowning. The constant use of pure fairy dust has made her look fairly young for her age.
Clothes and Equipment: Extremely fancy clothing, imported all the way from Katashima. The Godmother carries a long, thin knife (poisoned) and a pouch of fairy dust wherever she goes.
Registered: Dec 5, 2015 10:11:14 GMT -8
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Post by The Godmother on Feb 25, 2016 14:40:12 GMT -8
"Huh?"
The godmother leaps back, away from the dissolving man. She quickly checks her arms and lets, making sure she hasn't been singed.
"Well, that's not very nice. That chair cost money."
Pouting indignantly, she turns and leaves the room.
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