The Golden City

[Samber]

"What do you want Jordan?" Was the response to her wave.

"Now now Javier, just because you're having a bad day doesn't mean you have to take it out on me." He looked at her in the corner of his eye.

"Whatever. What do you need?" Jordan smiled playfully at him.

"Welllllll... I WAS just going to have you take these dishes... But I have a better mission for you!" He rolled his eyes at the statement.

"Just let me take these real quick." He grabbed her plate and left for the kitchen.
She sat patiently for his return and looked around the room. She got a hairtie and put her long red hair into a ponytail. Once in its position she swayed her head back and forth making her hair swing.
She then began tapping on the table in a rythmic beat trying to pass time. She looked over to the fish man, there was now a little girl that accompanied him, she was dressed up in an adorable little dress, Jordan felt like going over there just to pinch her.
Finally Javier returned, he sat himself on the stool next to Jordan and looked at her.

"What do you want?" Jodan looked at him a long while before answering the question.

"Gimme your apron." She finally said.

"My apron? Why?"

"This fellow with the fish behind me has caught my intrest, and i'm trying to lay low."

"Whatever." He took off his apron and handed it to her. "Just give it back to me once your done playing spy." Jordan smiled and quickly put on the black apron. She slowly got up from the barstool and walked over to the man's table.

"Excuse me," She began "I know i'm not your waitress, but I was wondering if you always order fish for breakfast."

 

[GuardianOfHearts]

Rhyme was still sitting on that marble plinth, contemplating her first song when the wind-spirits showed up.

Her messy halo of yellow hair stirred in the sudden breeze, and she raised her head with a simple and expectant smile on her tanned face. The noises the wind Mem had picked up filled her ears, light footsteps and laughter and the call of an owl. Her smile faded, however, at the last sound: a cut-off baby's scream and a woman's shriek, both of which made her wince. Mem seemed to stroke her hair with invisible fingers, as if apologizing for that bit of sorrow she had brought, before flying off down the street.

Someone got doused, Rhyme thought. She couldn't pick up much from what Mem had heard, but she gathered that there had been a death during the night. Murder, sounds like.

"Must be a sign, then," she murmured. "I'll sing somethin' sad." She took a quick glance around the street and saw that it was plentiful in people, and the sun was slanting its bright rays between the yellow-brick buildings. Nodding in satisfaction, Rhyme hopped off the statue and took a few steps closer to the street. She swallowed a few times, mentally shifting her voice into something softer, purer, and implicit of tears.

"Oh gloried road,
through shadows tall
and darkness cold...."

She caught several attentions with those first few lines: the busier passerby glanced her way as they continued walking, though some idler people turned to watch as she sang.

"When Autumn's fell,
and Winter bold,
Oh wanderer on a gloried road,

"When endless black engulfs the skies,
away from despair,
Oh! lost soul,
Set your eyes!"

A few people around her clapped as Rhyme ended the song, or whistled, and two copper marks were tossed her way. She grinned appreciatively and picked them up before any grit-kid snatchers thought to take them for themselves. Marks were Ledonaath's form of currency, coins made of hornwood, which hard as ivory but much more common. They were veined according to how much they were worth: from white to copper to silver to gold.

Rhyme stuck the marks in the pouch around her waist, pondering on whether to continue with another sad song or change the mood.

"How'd you get such a pretty voice?"

The blonde looked up, surprised to find someone addressing her, and confronted a small, black-eyed child looking pleasantly up at her. A girl about eight or seven years of age, she seemed, and well-dressed in a sky-blue frock with a matching ribbon trying up her dark hair. But her white kid slippers were scuffed, and she twisted her feet back and forth, as though uncomfortable in her sleek outfit.

Rhyme smiled and crouched down, the better to be at level with the girl. "The winds taught me. They're my best friends."

"Oh." The girl didn't seem to know what to say to that. "Hey, can you sing a song for my baby brother? It's his birthday today, he's two years old!"

Rhyme stood up as a tall, polished looking woman appeared behind the girl, holding a mop-haired toddler firmly by the hand. "Ellia, what're you doing?"

"This girl's a singer, Momma, didn'chya hear? Can she sing a song for Doran?" Ellia looked back up at Rhyme. "Your last song made some people cry. Do you know any ones that'll make my brother laugh?"

"Aye ... might be I've got a song for ya." She nodded, and chose yet another voice- this time, light, spirited, and quick. It was a silly, nonsense thing she had thought up as a kid, to entertain the younger tots she knew in the slums.

"Have you seen my cat, good sir, come along this way?
A spotted, speckled, pockled cat, prancing through the day?
She whirrs and purrs and leaps along,
She yows and mows and sings a song.
A singing kit with a velvet paw,
A laughing feline with an iron claw.

"Oh have you seen my cat, pray tell?
I know her very well.
Her ears are blue and her eyes are brown,
Her white whiskers droop upside-down.
Her long tail is tufted ever-so fine,
Her dusty coat is striped with lines.

Oh have you seen my cat, dear sir,
You with a spotted, speckled, pockled hat
That whirrs and purrs?"

Little Ellia giggled, and her brother clapped his chubby hands in delight. Their mother clapped her hands once with a tight smile. Rhyme returned the smile, while trying to look as gaunt and malnourished as she could. She didn't want her disapproving stare or her stupid clapping. What she wanted was the flash of a white or copper mark in her hand.

"How sweet. Thank the nice girl and come along. We must be off."

"Thank you," Ellia said obediantly. Rhyme winked at her. She was a good kid, for a richy, and her wasn't her fault her mother was a miserly hag.

The woman took her daughter by the hand and led her off, but Ellia glanced back, and, with a devilish gleam in her black eyes, flipped a coin back at Rhyme, who caught it as they disappeared into the crowd.

She opened up her hand, and laughed. She was holding a silver mark in her palm. What a kid!

 

[BlackmageAp]

Eloc looked up as he finished his fish and wiped his mouth with his napkin, his eyes closed and his voice calm.

"Do you often use the apron of another waitress to get the information that you want on others ma'am?" He slowly put a spoon into his grapefruit, thankful that no juice came out violently. As he ate, he looked up and examined the girl. From the tone in her voice, and her appearance, she looked like the type of girl who certainly would do a lot to get what she wanted, so long as it benefited her.

"Listen, I saw you eying me awhile ago, and you seem like a nice enough person. May I ask what it is that you'd like to know, without causing any sort of ruckus?" He asked as politely as he could, while taking a bit out of his bacon.

 

[Samber]

Jordan smiled at the boy, he was clever and well spoken. That's more than she could say for most on the 12th level.

"There's no fooling you is there boy? You seem to think about things often. Though no, I'm not usually in the habit of being sneaky, though, the guard may say otherwise."
She took off her apron and sat herself in a seat across from the boy's. She looked him in the eye for a few moments, trying to analyze his position.

"I was just curious... I feel rather rude to ask you this but, What is your true race? I can tell you hide your true self from others. Don't worry, most cannot tell, I just have a habit of over analyzing situations. And plus, you seem like you need someone to trust, and i definatly have no reason to tell the world."
She smiled at him weakly, though the night was over, her dreams still haunted her during the hours of day. She grabbed her neckalace and looked at it quickly, she saw her reflection in it, it was distorted though, and she looked funny, it made her chuckle a little.
Jordan looked at the boy once more

"My name is Jordan by the way, what is yours sir?"

 

[Dark Heart 2]

"You, Serena Treybalt, have been charged of an Unliscensed Summoning, going through with Forbidden Rituals, and..."

Renji paused for a moment, still trying to get over the fact that a child had been used for such a barbaric ceremony. Seldom did he show such feelings towards people, or cases for that matter, but anything involving children was something that really tore at his heart. "...and Infantcide. Such heinous crimes are unforgiveable in our fair city, and those who commit to such acts are ultimately paid with the punishment of death."

Renji had dealt with horrific crimes such as this before, however the number was very few. Once he had tried a man for the slaughter of his entire family, and summoned countless demons to assault Ledonaath. While Renji hunted down the man responsible for this, the other Judges took down the other beasts that were roaming the City. This madman was tried the next day, without a jury, without witnesses, it was just between him and the several Judges of the City. The 'trial' barely lasted a few minutes, and then the killer was struck down by Renji's blade in the execution grounds.

There was something that seemed out of place, though. These Demonic Summoning cases were becoming more and more frequent. In the past, these events only happened every now and then, and even if their charges were quite horrible, there would always be an audience for the acusee's trial. These passed few months however... things were much different. Men, as well as women, were being secretly swept away, out of the public's eye of course, into the courthouse, being trialed quickly without notice, sometimes under quite unfair circumstances. In fact, just recently when Renji had requested a jury and audience for the trial from the higher-ups, he was denied. This really struck him as odd, quite odd indeed.

Being a well renowned Judge himself, he heard many peculiar things about both inside the justice system, as well as many rumors about certain 'things' going on in the City. One intriguing piece of information that Renji had received from one of his 'sources', had to do with the many Judges that still remained within the courthouse. Apparently the Judges had been working on something long before Renji had arrived in the City, something quite dark, and for the lack of a better word, evil.

His informant wasn't able to divulge anymore information, but he did let Renji know this. Whatever it was they were up to, because of Renji's recent jailing of previous 'corrupted' Judges, it slowed down their plans a great deal, which is probably why they were so eager to dispose of the troublesome man. Well, whatever those treacherous people were up to, Renji wasn't going to let them get away with it. Not as long as he had the breath to live, and the will to keep going.

Snapping back to reality, Renji continued speaking as if he had not stopped at all. "Though you may be a woman, your punishment will not be any lighter than if a man had done the same thing." Renji looked sternly at the woman, who did not even jump in to defend herself, even if it was in vain. She was... just like the others before her. Trying not to get involved in this person emotionally, Renji skipped to the punishment phase. "Serena, you will be executed tomorrow at dawn, without excuse or exception. Do you have anything to say for yourself in your defence?"

Nothing but silence filled the room of the hardwood courtroom, the rows of empty benches seeming even more eerie than before now. All the strange woman did was continue to stare at the floor, her crossed, her legs placed together, her expression blank. Just like the others...

Having enough of this cold, empty feeling, Renji called this 'trial' to an end. "Guards." Renji yelled out into the hall, however still staying seated in his chair. As the two men entered the room, Renji began giving them instructions on what to do. "Take this woman away and confine her to the basement, and do not let her out under any circumstances. Be sure to check up on her every so often as well... we don't want her doing anything stupid. Be sure to switch shifts with the other guards in the building as well, she's going to be locked down there until dawn tomorrow."

The two bulky men nodded, and carefully escorted the lady out of the room. Surprisingly she was walking with them, and did not have to be carried out like Renji had expected. As she was leaving, Serena slowly twisted her head back to give Renji one last glance... however her face was much different, and although horrific, it did not shock Renji one bit.

Half of her face... was decaying, the other showing a great deal of her bone and flesh, making her look as if she was apart of the undead. However, as Renji blinked his eyes, her appearance returned to it's normal state, and she then turned forwards once again, exiting the room as the guards shut the door behind them.

Resting his head in his hands, Renji shook it, sighing as he sat there in his thoughts of these short few moments he had spent with the woman. She was just like all the others, guilty as charged... but also, there was a small hint of fear in her eyes that didn't seem to come from guilt, but rather from innocence. It's just like what he saw in all those other Demon Summoners, all those people he had executed for doing such a horrible thing. Just like all the others. Why do I feel so guilty about this though, they did do this... didn't they? It's their fault, right?

Standing up, and walking towards the door, Renji spoke his last remaining thoughts out loud. "Whenever I feel guilt, hell usually breaks loose. Guess I better look into this..." And with those last words, Renji left the courtroom and out into the lobby to meet up with Yoroda. If Renji was going to get anywhere with this, starting off with an informative man was the first step. Hopefully he had some answers, otherwise he'd have to completely rely on... her...

 

[BlackmageAp]

Eloc was a little annoyed at first that this girl was calling him 'boy' so much, and also got a bit scared when she mentioned that she knew he wasn't human, but then got a better look at her as she mentioned trust. She seemed sad about something, but he wasn't quite sure what. As she gazed into her necklace, he felt a sense of something pass over him. It was almost as if he could understand part of what she was going through, but he knew that from the look on her face, she'd gone through much more than him.

"My name is Jordan by the way, what is yours sir?"

Eloc finally smiled. He liked that she trusted him with her name, and that she called him sir now. He wiped his face again and set his napkin down, looking her in the eyes now.

"My name is Eloc. It's a pleasure to meet you." He lowered his voice a bit as he finished his bacon. "And you are correct in saying that I'm not truly human. I am of the Blootine race, and I would greatly appreciate you telling no other soul without my permission." He was a tad nervous telling her, but she was right. He definitely could use someone to trust. A friend.

 

[Samber]

Jordan sat patiently for the man to respond, he seemed wary of her, though, she could tell he wanted someone to share his true self with. It seemed as if he were stuck in a shell, able, but unwilling to come out. She felt bad for him somewhat, even though she still didn't know him very well.
After a few moments, he seemed to come out of his metophorical 'shell' and shared his name, and even his true race with her. She smiled, pleased that he seemed to trust her, or perhaps he was just in desperate need of a friend.

"Eloc huh? That's a unique name." She said nicely "Though I've never heard of Blootine, a minority I'm imagining? And perhaps that's the reason you hide yourself." She said in a low voice.

"But in any case its a pleasure to meet you Eloc, and I really do work at this resturant, its just today was my day off," She said happily, "So I wasn't totally lying."

She took off her neckalace and held it in her hand, the stone was cool and smooth to the touch, it soothed Jordan's senses and relaxed her somewhat, for whatever reason, Jordan didn't know. She still wondered what the lady at the stand meant, it confused her a little, but she paid no attention to it.

 

[BlackmageAp]

"Never heard of a Blootine eh? Well, I can't say I blame you, we're not exactly famous around here. I'll show you why."

Eloc smiled as he held out an arm and pulled up the sleeve. He'd never really been able to do this for someone before, but he had practiced quite a bit. He made sure that no one was paying any sort of attention to them, and that he mainly had his back to everyone but Jordon.

"Watch this."

Eloc grew stern as he concentrated on his task. His arm slowly began to grow tiny hairs all over it. As they grew a tad longer, they began to show that besides brown fur, there were red spots as well. His fingers seemed to go into themselves and become very pawlike, while still maintaining a humanish style. He quickly reverted the arm back though, knowing that that alone would be enough. He smiled again and looked up.

"Think of that, all over me. That's what a Blootine is. A sort of a melting pot of Cheetah, Wolf, and fox."

 

[Samber]

"Watch this."

Said Eloc as he pulled up his sleeve. Jordan watched in anticipation, wondering what he was going to do. He seemed wary of his actions, so Jordan immediatly assumed he was showing her a part of what he looked like. Slowly small hairs formed, as well as red spots. His hand slowly turned paw-like.

It facinated Jordan, she had never seen somthing so wonderous, sure she'd seen the other feline type creatures roaming Ledonaath, but Eloc actually had the abillity to hide it.
He quickly pulled up his sleeve and looked at her

"Think of that, all over me. That's what a Blootine is. A sort of a melting pot of Cheetah, Wolf, and fox."

"That's amazing, and very interesting. I'm surprised that i've never heard of Blootine before, you seem to be quite powerful in your own right. Why is it you hide yourself from others? I see nothing wrong with you." Asked Jordan curiously.

 

[BlackmageAp]

"Heh, well, it's our history that most people do not like about us."

He finally had finished all of his meal, and now had his hands together beneath his chin. He was glad that someone new was learning about their legend, but then again, he wasn't too fond of recalling it. He closed his eyes, but still seemed to be looking at Jordan.

"You see, we used to be able to live in harmony with every other race a few hundred years back. We could be in either form, and no one would care. It was supposedly the greatest time in our history in terms of happiness. But you see, we had another side that we didn't like to show, but that comes out anyways sometimes. It can happen in the heat of battle, or if you become too senile to control it, but we have been known to go into what's called a berserker stage. Our power and speed are both remarkable, and normally helps us finish fights very quickly."

He twirled his fork around, wondering about the very form he talked of, and how it felt to be in it. He now had a very stern face on, as he continued.

"There is a cost however. We lose all control of reason. Friends become foes, and in some cases, food targets when their not fast enough to run away. History will tell you of an event that took place around 600 years back that states that a small group of us rampaged the streets in this mode, and basically declared war on all other races but our own. Those that were innocent, we shunned anyways, sometimes killed and beaten. It happens all the time. If certain groups find us..........they won't even leave women and children to live."

As he finished, he took a swig of his water, and wiped his mouth calmly. It was interesting telling his history to someone for the first time, but it almost felt.....relieving.

 

[Samber]

Eloc gave a slight chuckle and began to tell Jordan of their history. Jordan sat attentivaly litsening to his story. He told of the good days, and how slowly his race began to become discriminated due to a usually uncontrolable ability.

It seemed to be frightning, Jordan felt sympathy toward her new friend. She could see how recalling his past hurt, though, she was sure in the end it would make him feel better. She wondered what it would be like, going into one of those rampages, what if, on accident, she killed her parents, or brother? It was more horrifying to her than the true way they died; the plague. She couldn't imagine the amount of guilt that would burden her.

"That's sad." She began to say "Its horrible that you must forever live in concealment from others. It is also sad how others can assume how one person is, due to the race they were born. No one can help their genes..."

She looked at her reflection in the sapphire neckalace, she knew she wasn't a hundred percent human, she knew deep down there was somthing different... She just didn't know what! It tore at her very soul, she never had an opportunity to ask her perents, she never had an opportunity to ask if she was different... She was never able to know.

These dreams she had, she knew it wasn't normal for any old Human to have. She had heard of 'Psychics' before, but her dreams were... Horrifying, dreadful, full of darkness and despair. No normal Human could be capable of such devilish dreams.

 

[Thelonepickle]

Mime woke up with a powerful headache - the kind that would make a full-grown man let out a howl of agony as he cursed himself for going out the night before, except that Mime couldn't howl, didn't drink, and wouldn't blame herself for the things that had happened last night.

She put a grimy hand to her forehead and felt a crusted liquid - probably blood, but it was impossible to tell - and tried to pull herself to her feet. Everything hurt, mostly her head and left leg, but the pain felt mostly muscular; she was probably just sore from running.

Her brilliant eyes blinked several times as they took in her surroundings. There was a bright light shrouding everything, but perhaps that was just because Mime had been used to the dark for so long. Her tattered sleeve followed her arm up to her eyes to shield them from the lights and let her gaze more clearly upon the things around her.

For a second, she was distracted by that sleeve, and she pondered its natural colour for a moment. It may have been red. Now it was hard to tell. Then, she focused on the tasks at hand.

All around her, there were shades of gray and not much else. She tried to force her eyes to recognize shapes, but she was having trouble. She walked a few feet out in front of her and squinted, though it hurt. There were people sleeping underneath publications and near fires long since burnt out, having lived short lives, eating the makeshift kindling they'd been served - anything from trash to skins long since abandoned, depending on the species of whoever started the fire.

There were heaps of garbage near which people had made their homes, in the shade of an old, shabby stone wall. Mime winced as a rat scuttled across the floor, until the tapping of its feet were interrupted by the snapping of a trap. Shortly, she heard the crunching of small bones, and the rat's captor lit a new fire in hopes of making a meal out of his trophy.

The mute girl was suddenly filled with fear for herself and situation, and she swept her cloak of depression around her tighter, trying to find some warmth in it. She hurried back to where she'd awoken, but she was filled with more dismay when she saw the corpse before her.

Had she used this body as a cushion in her sleep? Mime crawled over to the man's scaly face, realizing that she'd fallen to her knees in shock. They were probably bleeding and had already been swollen.

There were knife wounds on his neck, his jugular having been slashed. His nose was broken, his stench was nauseating. Mime held her nose and gripped his shoulder tightly, wondering what to do. Something heavy fell out of her pocket, and she turned around to look.

A small blade? A jagged one. She picked it up. It was significant yet plain. How did she know this blade?

Then it hit her. The dead man before her... She'd killed him! She looked back at his face.

Yellowed eyes stared in the direction of his rough, adamant brow. The hairless man's long, prominent jaw frowned, the skin folding loosely where sentient expression would've taken hold. The grim stare of a corpse.

Mime sniffed, remembering that the man had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He'd grabbed her by the shoulder, and she'd already been running, and that stupid coat, that coat he was wearing, it looked so warm, and she resented him for being warm. She resented him for not being like her.

"Are you lost?"

She tried to compose herself and remain calm, but she couldn't. She gripped the blade in her pocket, gritting her teeth.

"I said, are you lost? Is this where you sleep? You live here?"

This man asked too many questions. What was he? Was he spying? Was he spying for them? Were they onto her again?

"I can't give you any money, but if you'll come with me-"

What was he going on about? Her head hurt, she was in such pain. He wanted her to answer. She bet he didn't sign. She tried to express that she couldn't speak.

"Come on, just follow me-"

It was too risky. She pulled the blade out, watched his eyes widen.

Mime sniffed again, pulling on the new coat she'd earned and felt the holes in the leather, wondering how conspicuous they were. Did they look like they'd been involved in a struggle, this coat and her? Maybe they didn't.

Mime wiped a tear from her face as she realized that the jacket wasn't as warm as she'd thought it would be. She let out a breathy gasp when she realized this man hadn't had any money, when she saw the pictures of his family, some blueprints for some project - a bridge, maybe? - that he was just normal. Not even rich.

The little girl walked through the slums of this city and stared at the forum-like market she was approaching. It was certainly a lot cleaner. She caught her reflection in a puddle and saw just how mangled and awful she looked.

There were leeches on her leg, cleaning her wound, and that was the most sanitary thing about her. Her clothes were drenched in mud, water, blood, and a few other substances she couldn't place.

She attempted to disguise her limp while she made a note of everything on her person. She hadn't lost any belongings. Her instrument was still on her back, and she didn't have any money, but she hadn't had any to begin with, and-

And someone was singing. Someone was singing beautifully, someone...

Mime located the voice. A pretty girl was serenading strangers for a bit of money, and she was trying to look poor but not too poor, and suddenly Mime was angry.

And suddenly, Mime was flying at this girl.

 

[BlackmageAp]

Eloc looked questionably at Jordan. She seemed to be somewhere else as she looked into her necklace. It was a look of confusion to him, like she wanted to know something badly. And somehow, he could tell it wasn't about himself. Curious. Such a very curious girl. He thought to himself as she kept gazing.

"Well then Jordan, as much as I would love to ask a little about yourself, I have another lady I must attend to." As if on cue, Vanessa came up with a look of excitement on her. She looked at Jordan a bit questionably, then back to Eloc.

"Does she tell stories too Eloc?" Eloc looked to Jordan and smiled slightly. He wondered for a moment if she did, but then turned his attention back to Vanessa.

"I don't know Vanessa, cause she's a new friend. Now, are ya ready to help me do some shopping chores?" Vanessa clapped while nodding violently. Eloc took another glance at Jordan, and stroked his chin. He whispered something into Vanessa's ear. Vanessa looked at Jordan for a moment, then nodded to Eloc. She walked over to Jordan and smiled.

"Would you like to join us too mish Jordan?" Eloc chuckled fondly at how cute Vanessa was at these sort of things. He never was one to like seeing people in a down mood, plus he wanted to know more about his new friend.

 

[GuardianOfHearts]

Arrow sat alone in her room, cleaning her sword-staff.

She sat cross-legged on the floor at the foot of her bed, the rod resting in her lap. With a wet cloth she scrubbed at the blood stains which rippled red-brown over the thin silver blades at each end. There was ichor there too, the black blood which the city's shadow-creatures shed, paling to an ashy grey over the hours.

Her long, calloused fingers were damp and chilled, and cool water dripped onto her bare thighs. The soft fabric did its work, and soon the blood had disappeared. Yet still she scrubbed, cleaning away stains long since gone, stains whose memories lingered like black ghosts over her shoulder.

The Raisidhe girl wiped the blade so furiously at one point that the cloth tore along the razor-sharp edge and sliced the skin across her palm. She stared numbly at it as the blood started welling. It dripped onto the blade in big, shiny droplets, and she thought, Oh. I'll have to clean it all over again.

Then Arrow was laughing, she who could never laughed, who would never cry, was doubled over sobbing and shrieking with mirth. She wiped away the tears and then her face was bloody too, the pale skin smeared with red, and she thought, Why not? Why not more blood?

And that only made her laugh harder.

She remembered the little baby who was killed last night, his small throat slit by his own mother, and suddenly there was bile on her tongue. The taste of black magic burned in her throat and turned the her veins into thousands of white hot needles.

She staggered to her feet, dropping her staff without a glance and clutching at her sides, doubled over now from pain and confusion, her thoughts swirling and flitting like gusts of wind, like butterflies, a thousand red butterflies in the room with her, and they were all dripping blood, and she was drowning in it.

The next thing she knew, Arrow was bending over the sink basin and heaving up the contents of her stomach, bile and blood. Her body thus purged and her mind cleared, she wiped at her mouth with a weak and shaking hand and slumped to the floor.

"Not again...."

 

[GuardianOfHearts]

Standing in the bright morning sunshine beside that gryfen statue, Rhyme was surely not expecting to be assaulted.

So she was more than a little surprised when suddenly this tattered grey person from out of nowhere was shoving her, hard. Her mind told her to reach for a knife, but it was all happening too fast, all a confusion of anger and limbs. Instead, she instinctively grabbed on to her attacker as she fell back and collided with the marble plinth.

Rhyme literally saw stars as her head hit the unforgiving stone; bright flashes of color swirling in a dazed world. She slumped down, all music gone from her voice.

"You ... idiot...." she muttered, trying to focus on the grimey person who she had pulled down instead of darkness. She had dark skin, bright green hair, and the angriest yellow eyes she had ever seen.

How funny, Rhyme thought to herself. I started the day with a knock on the head and was worried about blood. Now I'm just worrying that the blood will stop. But a bird had pushed her out of the tree the first time ... right? She blinked and looked at the girl. No, she was a bird too, with thin grey wings and scaly taloned feet, and once again, she was falling.

 

[Tyler Durden]

Throwing the apple core to the ground, Senkei walked down the road leading to the first level. He had spent too much time up so high; the elevation gave him nosebleeds, and every time he started bleeding he ruined a good shirt. He walked along the paved path, his boots making a dull clunking sound as he went. Feeling the pommel of one of his daggers against his heel, he bent down and scratched it. Maddeningly, the more he scratched the more the damn thing irritated him. He would have pulled it out of his boot, but that would draw even more attention- something that someone in his profession didn’t really need.

When he got to a checkpoint manned by two guards, Senkei raised his hands away from his katana and pulled his license to bear arms from his back pocket. Incidentally, the license was a forgery crafted by one of Senkei’s traveling buddies, and it was damned expensive. Senkei doubted if even the commanding officer of the Golden City would be able to tell the writing on the license from his own. That was one of the perks to being a sellsword- you tended to have contacts that could do almost anything for you.

“Hmm…looks real enough. Carry on, sir,” the guard said, spitting the last word. If Senkei remembered correctly, the paid guards of the city had a slight disdain for sellswords. Maybe it was because the mercenaries made more money, or because they had more fun; either way, there was a set prejudice against those that made their living like Senkei did.

Retrieving his license, Senkei nodded his head and wandered back through the gate. When he was out of the guards’ sight, he drew his sword and cut the rope that signaled emergencies in the city. The bell above clanged loudly, the copper vibrating in such a manner that it seemed to be moving in and out of focus. As the guards came running Senkei was a few paces away from the site of the incident, and his katana was already sheathed. There was no evidence that he had been the one to cut the rope, and the guards were stuck trying to find a problem that didn’t exist.

So far, the day was going good. The air was warm but not overly moist, and the sun didn’t threaten to bake anyone’s skin today. There might be a good tan on Senkei before the day was done, but that was okay. After all, he could use a bit of bronze covering. Especially to help with the ladies; there was always a lady willing to bed someone- perhaps for a price, perhaps not. Senkei was eyeing one such lady when someone bumped into him, almost knocking him off balance. A hardened campaigner, Senkei’s wrist shot out and grabbed the one that ran into him, squeezing the young boy’s wrist hard.

As the boy’s blue eyes seemed on the verge of tears, Senkei let up a little bit. Holding his other hand out, he motioned for the body to give Senkei his money pouch back. As the boy did so, Senkei drew him in closer. As he stooped down to the boy’s level, he put his mouth next to the boy’s ear, and asked him an honest question:

“Would you like to earn that money?