[b GO AWAY THIS IS FOR MY OWN PURPOSE! I only created this to test my pictures and their sizes and fonts as well as write posts when I'm too excited to wait for my turn. Nothing of what I post here would be guaranteed to show up in the Rps that the post was intended for. Everything here is experimental and perhaps full of RP spoilers.]
[http://i557.photobucket.com/albums/ss12/Spottedwolf-star-kit/48e68b24-8c29-4e31-ac0a-5c7a3a5bf06e_zpsxw2u3215.jpg Artgem Asian Girl w/ Headphones]
[http://i557.photobucket.com/albums/ss12/Spottedwolf-star-kit/6578b65a-efa3-480c-b1f0-237838db7a39_zpsbuogpdut.jpg Sensual white-haired Elf Pic Orpheelin]
[http://i557.photobucket.com/albums/ss12/Spottedwolf-star-kit/e3279850-9a13-40db-a20d-41072a41d0df_zps449509e3.png Nilin Standing Pic]
[http://i557.photobucket.com/albums/ss12/Spottedwolf-star-kit/c085174b-6f85-4ac2-982f-f0b9aa9075c2_zpsdaeaee97.jpg RL Vera Pic]
[http://i557.photobucket.com/albums/ss12/Spottedwolf-star-kit/5bb8f946-abff-48e4-8d8a-b27b3a45b716_zps2de6eb98.jpg Fav Princess Mononoke Pic]
[http://i557.photobucket.com/albums/ss12/Spottedwolf-star-kit/bb23c70b-de3e-4730-b9f7-ba889cbb8cf1_zps464c6cb7.jpg Black and White Short-Hair Girl Pic]
[http://i557.photobucket.com/albums/ss12/Spottedwolf-star-kit/e3cb77b0-b527-4eb9-ace6-91ae625fa583_zpsdf091044.jpg White Wolf Anthro]
[http://i557.photobucket.com/albums/ss12/Spottedwolf-star-kit/a328113c-0e79-4d92-8722-fccd8477220a_zpsd72ca1e9.jpg Knight Char Picture]
[http://i557.photobucket.com/albums/ss12/Spottedwolf-star-kit/65ae7459-cc40-44c4-a1fd-b7438017a0f6_zpsfbe94228.jpg Remember Me Bora Character]
[http://i557.photobucket.com/albums/ss12/Spottedwolf-star-kit/BadAss4.jpg Anime Tess]
[http://i557.photobucket.com/albums/ss12/Spottedwolf-star-kit/Mercedes2.jpg Anime Mercedes]
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"I thought I smelled a cat. How nice to meet one in person."
Jayne had figured she'd run into some of the worse subjects in the lab, but coming face-to-face with this man was giving her the heebie-jeebies, "[b Uhh . . . yeah. I've never seen a cat before either??]" It helped when the other girl also seems to be uncomfortable around this subject, who happens to smell like blood. Jayne wasn't so sure if she should try to kill it like a bad spider or avoid it like the creepy friend in your high school friend group. She obviously wasn't sure what to do because she had no preference for murder, nor went to high school.
The footsteps grew closer and Jayne wonders if she should book it immediately with her new friends who are escaping too.
"I'm pretty sure it's this way but, the main entrance should have some kind of reinforced blast door. I can't get through that, not without a lot of time. There will probably be a few more guards posted in a checkpoint there too." the other girl begins to stumble along the corridor at an agonizing slowness.
"[b Come on, I think I can get through it]," she says, "[b No time to figure it out now!]" Jayne reaches down and grabs the scruff of the cat with an iron grip and then pulls the girl to her by the arm and loops her arm around the girl's waist, "[b Hope you're not uncomfortable. But desperate times calls for desperate measures!]" and hauls her over her shoulder with ease. Then Jayne turns around and reaches for the newly-arrived Niner but shrinks her hand away when she sees his unsettling grin,
"[b Uhh maybe you can help yourself. I can uhh tell you'd be great at covering our backs!]" Jayne whips around and then speeds down the hallway, flying rather than running. Before long, the blast doors come into view--as well as a group of armored men with guns--and Jayne bursts through them with both other beings in tow right before they open fire, "[b Excuse me pardon me!!]" she screams at them.
Jayne reaches the parking lot and, in her combined wonder at seeing such an openness for the first time in her life as well as an terrible anxiety to escape, is about to fly as far away as possible when she sees a helicopter to her right, with guards jumping out and aiming their guns at her.
"[b Get on the ground!]"
She freezes, afraid that they'll shoot and hit her if she moves, and afraid to submit after making it so far. Behind them, the guards from the inside also run out into the parking lot. Gunshots.
Amaranth didn't have the privilege of sitting in a transport near her other similar-leveled comrades. A consequence of almost being late. Nonetheless, she could have made her way to the location on her own accord, traversing the earth and treading very carefully on the border between the mortal world and the underworld. But, like what happened in the meeting room, Anton had requested that Amaranth spent more time in-person with the team . . . which includes [i everybody.] But she can tell that not everybody wants to spend time with her.
She sits at the very end of the transport, buckled into the wall. Her hands are rested calmly on her knees. Ugly, dark, human hands. She can tell that the soldier across from her is holding a rosary in his hand, casting strange looks at her every several minutes. She doesn't care and she looks back down at her hands. They say God made man of the same image as God. Or something like that. It was a strange kind of blasphemy to be a human hell hound. Lord Azhram is especially vocal about it.
When they land, Amaranth hops off with two legs. Typically, she would have ambled along in dog form, cherishing in the attention of pets, treats, and chuckles she gained from other people. However, a dark cloud is cast over her demeanor. No smiles, sarcastic remarks, or dog forms. Just a bad mood. To top it off, she feels like she is being watched.
She walks towards where Stefano and Anton are talking in low voices. Feeling annoyed that she is being left out, Amaranth walks closer and just begins to pick up Stefano's concern,
"...not dying to a Prometheus Protocol order. While I'll do my best to make sure no one dies, missions can go sideways quickly. I'm trying to find an escape plan in case we need to extract before they drop Prometheus Protocol on this place."
She approaches them with her arms crossed, "[b It sounds like this mission doesn't sit very well with multiples of us. Even the vampire. I wonder why.]" Amaranth looks into the direction of the town afflicted with the miasma, "[b I can certainly tell you that it isn't demonic, or from the underworld. But don't expect me to be a part of the dive team heading into the church.]"
Contrary to popular belief, churches and places of worship had no adverse affects on Amaranth. But in a strange way, she respects that they're there, and wouldn't go out of her way to disgrace the spaces with her hellishness. An odd dynamic, between heaven and hell.
"[b Also, I feel like I'm being watched. I'm going to go a bit ways out from camp to get a closer look. Don't worry, I won't violate any protocol.]" After all, reconnaissance has been one of her best talents.
Amaranth gives them a nod and backs away into the shadows of the trees. Blink. She feels the earth underneath her paws. Only Stefano and Anton could see the true beast that appeared to all others as a black dog. The hell hound merges with the shadows and then travels through the trees, casting dark shapes of a creature that moves across the grass. It didn't take long for her to near the large smoky bubble. She stopped and emerged from the trees.
It is dense. Gray. She can barely see past the last of the tree trunks to the other side. The feeling of being watched is stronger now and her fur begins to stand on end. Amaranth bares her teeth and growls, looking around her but there was nothing.
[i Psyche, Are you human? Or just a robot?]
[i My friend, I am neither human nor robot, and both human and robot. I am more robot than a robot]
[i And, though it may not appear so, being more than robot has taught me what it means to be more human than human.]
siergsper gsertn v[seroijtg[sero jt
slrithgsr;th mgsrttusrthgutiph nsm
siirughn bspri ngpsrthgwsr
She remembered the festivities vividly. Music played obnoxiously by youthful souls and then followed by gallons of festival food ranging from categories involving fusion, deep-fried, traditional, and all of it thrown together. Lyman couldn’t remember the last time she danced herself sore but every time one band or performer transitioned to the next, she always found a way to move along with it, both thoughtful and not thoughtful. Conscious of the way her body moved but not caring of the way it looked, jazz, modern and something close to the earth. Partially hoping hat Vylum was watching, but also knowing that it would hardly be the case as they should be busy with the other warmongers. She remembered the festivities vividly, but it was only because it was contrasted with the dark [i news].
Lyman was coming from a press conference dealing with the [i news] and she couldn’t get it out of her head how [i unhappy] she was. Unhappiness beyond anxiety, sadness, and frustration. She knew to her core that Vylum would have no part in Neknem’s murder, so that she wasn’t anxious, had no personal tie to Neknem, so that she wasn’t sad, and understood why Neknem’s followers would blame them, so that she wasn’t frustrated. If anyone had asked Lyman what her current mood was, she was unhappy and unhappy because the reporters, Neknem’s followers, and law enforcement wouldn’t believe her word alone.
So Lyman Qorinto decided to buy the flowers herself. She could have asked her assistants to do it but she wanted to take care of this on her own, and she even did the research for it. In she would typically stride, with her colorful vibrant red romper, touched with a golden and red half-scarf half-sash and white headscarf, absolutely noticeable by the public because she was proud, but today, she wore dark greys and blues, with no flowing component and no lavish appeal. It was because today, that type of attention would not be the best idea.
“Flowers? For your man?” one of the female employees smiled.
“[i Flowers. They are hardly limited to a singular gender, wouldn’t you think?].” She said softly and smiled back. She started to walk towards the back, “[i I’m picking up an order.]”
Lyman soon returned from the back, holding her little gift, and approached the exit of the shop, where the same female employee was now spraying the flowers on display outside.
“Found what you were looking for?” she asked.
“Yes,” Lyman held the little vase of purple irises to her chest, “Hope.”
She paused outside of Vylum’s front door, holding the little vase of irises with one hand, knocked on it several times, “[i Vylum?]” Lyman asked with a low and gentle tone. The warmonger can imagine the amount of duress Vylum is being placed in right now and she is acutely aware of some extremist ways a few of the vengeful Neknem followers may interpret his death. At the same time, who would ever kill a god? And what could ever prompt them to do so? There was only one other god left and he is left in a very vulnerable state. That knowledge in the back of her mind, in the deep recess of her thought, with her aversion to bluntness, and behind all optimism, love, and positivity, is what scares her the most.
Smutty and gray were the colors of the tiles on the mall floor, quite similarly to the financial quality of the local neighborhood. As she didn’t complain that the mall was long overdue for an upgrade, Erin also didn’t complain when little Chloe wanted to go inside Claire’s to look around, and even smiled when the girl gleefully bounded into her favorite store. But as she stepped over the boundary separating the feminine form the reality, her right leg seemed to scorch in the pink light. On the other hand, six-year- old Chloe, wearing frilled, pink shirt, and a polka-dotted dress over glittery orange leggings, glowed in the atmosphere and ran straight to the revolving shelves of makeup products.
Erin paused by the shelf that was stocked with earrings, clamp-able and non-clamp-able ones. She touched a dangly one with synthetic green feathers hanging off it. An employee, very pretty with wavy brown hair over her right shoulder and a face expertly touched by subtle cosmetics, approached Erin from behind carrying a box,
“Hello! Welcome to Claire’s. Is there anything I can help you today?” She smiled.
“No, I’m good.” Erin politely smiled back.
“Okay! If you need anything, I’ll be around.” The woman responded and carried the box over to the wall that was abundant of colorful scarves, evidently with the intention of restocking them.
Erin sighed and looked to see if Chloe was finished browsing, but when she saw the little girl currently very fixated on trying to distinguish between two identical nail polish colors, she resolved that she would be in Claire’s for a while. She glanced at the female employee at the shelf of scarves and was acutely conscious of the contrast between the two of them. What made Erin feel uncomfortable could be a combination of multiple things. Perhaps Erin was wearing the same, worn-out Converse shoes for five years straight, or that her jeans were un-aesthetically ripping at the knees. Maybe the words on their brother’s black basketball sweater that she wore were cracked and flaking away, or that Erin hasn’t showered within the past twenty-four hours.
In an alternate reality, the rest of her body would have scorched away under the sunlight of the fluorescent light bulbs above her, tinted by the pink color scheme of the store.
“Erin, I’m ready.”
Erin turned around and looked down to see Chloe holding a large case of nail polish that contained every color of every spectrum of colors that both appeared and wouldn’t appear within the perception of the human eye. In fact, Chloe happened to be holding two of them, one hidden under the other.
“How much is it?” asked Erin.
“This one is thirty-five, this one is forty dollars.” She said, indicating to each one respectively.
Erin crouched to Chloe’s eye level, “They’re a little too expensive, Chloe, can you go find something else? Maybe put one case away?”
“Okay.” Chloe turned around and walked to put one of the cases back, then she returned to Erin and handed Erin the other case, the forty-dollar one.
“Actually, maybe you can find something else. Like one or two nail polish bottles. Remember what mom told us about money?”
Her little sister’s face fell and she miserably turned around, “Fine, I don’t need to get anything then.” And returned the second case of nail polish to its origin. When she came back, Erin took Chloe’s hand.
“Are you sure?” Erin looked down.
“Well, are you hungry?” Erin asked.
“Why don’t we go to Dairy Queen and I’ll get you a cotton candy blizzard?”
Erin led Chloe out the store. The female employee, arranging the scarves, turned around and waved at them, “Thank you, have a good day!”
Erin ignored her and the two of them crossed back into the world of the old mall. In the alternate universe, her body began to heal itself, patching back together the holes scored by the toxic conditions of Claire’s. When they stepped onto the escalator, heading to Dairy Queen on the second floor, Chloe tugged on Erin’s arm once.
“Does mom know we’re here?”
“No, she doesn’t,”
"Where do you think Hawthorn and Delacroix could have gone? Perhaps we should check the brotherhood hideout here."
Ai hopped off of her horse and walked to Amir, feeling uneasy. Although most of her foreign face was obscured from the public, she could tell that the three of them turned a great number of heads that happened to be passing by. If they were trying to be discreet, it might not work very well.
She walked back to Natalya and looked at her foot, "[b This hurt much?]"
They also badly needed a doctor.
When Natalya replied, Ai felt a tap on her shoulder. She whirled around and saw a young boy, merely a few years her junior, dressed in peasant rags behind her. The strange part was that he didn't seem like a peasant as his hair was brushed, his face was clean and he didn't seem to hold himself like a poor person. She recoiled.
"Nothing is true." he said in Arabic.
Ai narrowed her eyes. Several days ago, she would have responded in code . . . however within the recent hours that have passed, Ai had learned that certain allegiances don't hold true anymore.
"I understand why you may feel hesitant. Betrayal lurks at every corner and you are in enemy territory. Master Fong, Master Ageyava and . . ." he peered to the side to see Amir splashing his face with water in the fountain, "and Master Vestergaard. My name is Shihaab Toure and I am an acolyte of the Brotherhood. Every neighboring Brotherhood had received messages of what had occurred. I'm only shamed that your trips to Masyaf have ended this way. Anyhow, please come with me. We have healers that you will need . . ." He beckoned for them to follow.
Ai didn't mentioned that they needed healers but judging from her the dry blood on her persona, Natalya's wrapped up foot and Amir's burnt face, they hardly looked healthy. Behold. Master Assassins.
She wasn't sure if the Shihaab was safe to follow, and looked to Natalya and Amir for an answer
[center [pic http://i557.photobucket.com/albums/ss12/Spottedwolf-star-kit/5458750e-ebc8-47f8-abd2-305205e71fc7_zpsruqtokq7.jpg]]
[center [size24 In the bookkeeping office . . .]]
"We all have heard about the attack in Masyaf and we are so sorry. We were worried what had become of such great Master Assassins in the ambush and are glad you had turned up here. Our spies in the city have helped us locate you and your friends. Yes, the other three assassins are still alive and they are here. You will meet them again when we go to the Brotherhood of Damascus. Before we leave, we must wait for the other Master to return."
As he spoke, he kept his head bowed to the ground. Then the acolyte stood up, "If you see that I am afraid, it is not because I am waiting to attack you . . . I am just afraid you will attack me." he gave a half smile, "We have all heard of you and your friends reputations . . ."
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