|
|
Post by DanteMGalileo on Nov 24, 2010 21:36:11 GMT -5
Void City. A modern city on the Dimensional Island, floating in the void between the dimensions, above a vast void that leads to nowhere apparently. It's closest comparisons on Earth would be modern Boston or New York City. Why am I using "modern" to describe these three cities?
To a newcomer in this area, neither Void City, Boston, nor New York City would be "modern" to him. By contrast, they'd all look rather strange and... not modern.
--
"Ouch... what a rather undignified way for me to land... This is not how a gentleman should behave..." came a somewhat muffled-sounding voice. It was in-between a child's voice and that of a man's, and it spoke with a distinctly English accent. A sort of wincing sound came from that same voice.
"There are better places that I could have landed in, that I am sure... This is disgusting..."
There was the sound of banging at the top of a dumpster in an alleyway, the source of the punches obviously coming from within the container. After it became obvious that the retched thing wasn't going to open to fists, the pounding stopped.
"... Well, this appears to be a bit of a situation I am in..."
There was then a loud banging sound as the top of the dumpster was blown off. A hand emerged, holding a polished revolver, still smoking. A somewhat short figure climbed out of the container.
He had brown hair worn in a ponytail over his shoulder, an average complexion, and a mature face. He wore a large red coat with gold pauldrons, two black belts across his torso, secured with a silver buckle, a white undershirt, white pants held up by a black belt, and dark gray boots. There was a sheathe containing a rapier attached to his coat, with a holster for a revolver on its opposite side.
He currently had his eyes closed, as he dusted himself off and composed himself. He was also covered in garbage for the dumpster, and seemingly trying to clean himself off. Wringing one of his wrists, he sighed to himself.
"I have noticed as of late that in America, the Englishman always suffers, why is that?"
|
|
|
|
Post by mugenginga on Nov 25, 2010 3:45:41 GMT -5
(OOC: Vincent only works if it's night, so I'm gonna call it that for plot purposes since you didn't specify. XD)
Vincent hadn't been out of his house in several days. To be truthful, leaving was almost never a necessity for him. His apartment had a rat "problem", and so he remained fed. His internet was reliable so he could work, and his bills could be paid online. However, he had to leave every once in a while or people would begin to wonder. So every few nights he would leave.
He wasn't sure why he had taken his sword, concealed in a case for an instrument. He'd lived long enough to not ignore those gut feelinsg when they came, and that feeling was that he needed to take his sword. He could train in the back alleys, he hadn't spent a good outdoors training session in over a year. He knew the alleys near his apartment extremely well, so it was a quick walk that lead him to an area he knew not even the homeless would find him in. His senses were tuned enough he wouldn't have to deal with anything more problematic than homeless.
Vincent was preparing to scare a few rats out of the places he had long learned they like to hide when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He had the sword out of the instrument case with a pop. That feeling was not that of mundane things, thousands of years of being a less than mundane thing oneself tended to teach one lessons. However, his vision swam with an expanding blackness before even his preternatural speed could react further...
-----
It would seem there was some sort of paranormal anomoly about the dumpster of all things. Because a black hole of nothing suddenly shot open above it, about as wide as your standard door. It really was just a black... nothing. Vincent was dumped out into the thankfully now open trash and hit with enough force to kick up several pieces of lighter trash. Of probably more noticable to the man outside was that the humanoid figure that had been dumped out of the now closed portal hit with enough force to dent the bottom of the dumpster.
It was only a few seconds before Vincent was kicking the trash off the top of himself and lifting his head out of the top of the dumpster, looking rather disorganized but none the worse for wear given how he'd landed. He put one hand on the top edge of the dumpster and was preparing to launch himself out of it when he took note of the unusually dressed man standing outside, his vision allowing him perfect sight due to his true race.
Without a word he carefully climbed out of the dumpster, using the trash as a sort of stepping stone before swinging his legs over and guiding himself down carefully. In his right hand was his sword, which looked to be an overly fancy wooden blade with a hilt of far more value. He picked a bit of trash out of his hair and brushed off his shoulders. It was after he made himself only slightly more presentable that he spoke to the man.
"Who are you?"
|
|
|
|
Post by tsifan on Nov 25, 2010 15:30:35 GMT -5
Ganistez had heard a bit of commotion in this area, which was really odd as it was often found to be abandoned in his thought process. He probably should've been looking for Elane at the time, but being odd that girl was it was possible she was wandering unusual places again screaming about things. All the more he needed ot worry about, but back to investigation.
As said earlier, this place was supposed to be practically abandoned. So why were there people wandering? He was on the roof to approaching in a crouching position looking over the roof. His purple eyes gazing over the situation.
He saw banging at the garbage bin, but the gun shot had startled him as he had a bit of a flinch collasping back onto the roof grasping a tile. Gunfire was quite an odd thing to see out of the dumpster. He was unaware of the individual falling down as the tile he was grasping onto appeared to be a bit loose, and only when he noticed this it then-
CRACK[/b]
Surprised he began to slide off the roof, attempting ot grip at another tile to no avail as he fell off the roof, and grasped the rain drainage pipe, but even that out of the rust and disrepair began to bend creaking.
Snap[/b]
The rusty screws went flying, and he too followed down. Comforting his fall was apparently a pile of trash as he looked around a bit dazed by what just happened. The smell was absolutely horrid, and not to mention the sight in the place he was. He only slowly got up his back temporarily hurting as he grasped the edge of the dumpster and pushed himself up and out of the dumpster in a leap.
His feet hitting the floor some trash fell off his shoulder, and onto the ground. He may not have known it, but there was a slice of old cheese stuck on his left shoulder as apparently a rat scurried up his leg and side up there to eat it occupying itself. Not like Ganistez cared, but he looked to the other two that appeared to be at the scene before himself.
Both smelling as bad as he at the time. He looked over the other's garments, and took thoughts of his own. They seemed to wear more formal clothes than he is wearing right now as that would be his brown vest, jeans, boots, and gloves practically. At least his bandana reduced the rancid smell flying about too, but still the oddity of the other men were quite.... well odd. brushing his white hair out of his only visible left eye, his mask not really being able to be seen with a piece of pizza clinging onto it he spoke.
"Odd"
The rat eating the cheeze off his shoulder only then retreated from finishing it and starting on the pizza on the mask.
|
|
|
|
Post by DanteMGalileo on Nov 25, 2010 20:36:43 GMT -5
"... Hmm?!"
The brown-haired teenager's head made a sudden turn behind him at the sound of an unknown voice, judging it to be an adult male by its tone and pitch. His eyes had opened, and if one could see them, they would be a dark shade of brown, almost black. Unadjusted to the darkness of the night, all he could make out was a tall figure.
... There was no one else in this alleyway. So, whoever he was, he had to had been the source of the voice.
He turned the rest of his body to face the older man, placing his revolver in its holster, but also placing one hand on his sheathed rapier. He would rather not use up any more bullets, and one could never be uncertain.
The teenager's dark eyes narrowed.
"Is it not polite to tell your own name before you ask another his?"
|
|
|
|
Post by mugenginga on Nov 25, 2010 20:53:24 GMT -5
Vincent had still been crawling out of the dumpster when the teenager gave his initial reaction. Even then, there was a long pause as he was eyed carefully. He made no indication he noticed it as he picked the larger pieces of trash off, although he was aware the dark brown eyed fellow had put a hand on his sword. Vincent noted that everything about the man fit for a historical recreationist... early 1900s if he wasn't mistaken, around the time he'd come to the United States. But the way he stood... that wasn't the stance of a mere actor.
He was willing to answer the simple enough question of the man with the slight English accent when the sense that he was being watched became overwhelming. He was in the middle of a turn when he heard a loud noise and his cautious spin became much more fluid, if a little fast. His eyes narrowed as he saw the short young man sliding down, and his pose relaxed as the figure took a flying crash into the dumpster. Vincent only had a very slight wince in reaction to the impact, but he was pretty sure there would be no significant injuries.
Vincent's assumption was confirmed as the young man climbed out of the dumpster and a rat climbed onto his shoulder. His back was to Percy as he finally spoke. While the new arrival's katana (and mask, on that note) seemed odd, he had a feeling everyone here would seem odd to everyone. And this wasn't the alley he'd been in before, so something quite unusual was going on.
"Vincent," came his reply to Percy's question. A single word and no more.
|
|
|
|
Post by DanteMGalileo on Nov 26, 2010 17:31:39 GMT -5
"..."
Percy's lone reaction initially was to simply glance at the older male- who was named Vincent, apparently- as if judging him to be a threat or not. His eyes were still not adjusted to the night (Damn it, what is it with my body's tendency to be slow?), though he was able to make out the form of what appeared to be a sword, judging from its shape to be of an older design than his rapier.
And people say my weapons are anachronistic, he thought to himself. Now he was debating whether or not to say his own name.
... Well, since Vincent had introduced himself, it would only be polite to respond in kind.
"Percival Worchester," came the unusually-dressed teenager's response.
|
|
|
|
Post by tsifan on Nov 26, 2010 22:36:03 GMT -5
Ganistez caught little of the conversation if any at all, but even then he could recognize that as a name. Oddity flying around, there was no harm in introducing right? Maybe.
"Ganistez"
The only needed to be said really, further details he could fear for his identity sometimes. These strange people looked rather suspicious to him, but was the feeling mutual? With any thoughts the rat seemed to grow a bit in size as it was licking its paws of the remnants of what pizza had been consumed by it's small mouth. Scurrying down it settled itself back onto Ganistez's shoulder in a lazing fashion. The Moonlight grew only stronger for a moment's time as his masked gleamed lightly showing the mask of a mouse, although still having bits of pizza on it. The light died down shortly after. MAybe that light could've helped the sight of those not used to the dark? Wasn't up to him, he was quite used to it. The smell of the dumpster did grow to be rather.... sickening as he took a few steps back creating light rustling noises due to the bottom of his boots. Farther from Percy and closer to Vincent. They smelled bad too, but so did he himself as well as mainly Percy. Come to think of it, he didn't really trust either of them, but he'd have to make due. After all. they could help him find Elane.
|
|
|
|
Post by mugenginga on Nov 26, 2010 22:43:13 GMT -5
Vincent looked towards the man with his mask as he approached closer. He didn't seem to care beyond the notice. The two had given names, which was all he had given them. He had hoped for a slightly more elaborate response. He gave a nod towards both of them as they introduced himself. He'd seen Percy as he was climbing out of the dumpster, so it was quite likely he'd seen him land... he wasn't raising a fuss about a hit that should have at least injured him, though.
"I should be going," Vincent said. He turned towards the exit of the alley. He seemed inclined to leave without further explanation unless someone stopped him.
|
|
|
|
Post by DanteMGalileo on Nov 26, 2010 22:56:02 GMT -5
"... Good night to you, then," was Percy's response to Vincent, with a slight nod.. He'll admit, okay, that was awkward. The ground had supposedly caved on him, and he finds himself in a trash container (that he had to waste a bullet trying to get out). He figured, oh well, there had to be some sort of explanation behind it.
His eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness of this back alley. It was clearer to him now. It was a rather disgusting place, full of trash, and stuff he would rather not know of.
He had not acknowledged Ganistez yet, deeming him not worthy of his attention. He'll admit that his outfit was rather unusual (at least what could be made out), but then again, he was the one who dressed like somebody fresh out of the colonial period.
Percy took a few steps forward, wanting to find his way back to the base he called home, to report his mission a disgraceful failure.
The teenager was obviously unaware that he was not in his own world anymore.
|
|
|
|
Post by tsifan on Nov 26, 2010 23:49:39 GMT -5
Leaving? It appeared these two did not know each other at all then. Regardless little of that had to do with him anymore, as they showed no interest in to what he was looking for. Let alone even bothering to have an reason. He actually saw more reason to leave at the time as he looked over to the side. A Ladder, for an apartment. Placed oddly conveniently, but still usable he hopped and latched himself onto the metal bars construction gripping with his gloves and swung himself upwards. His little fat pet clung onto his shoulder as he made his movements and he began to climb up.
These two didn't appear to know Elane period, or willing to converse with him. So why should he favor them with speech?
|
|
|
|
Post by DanteMGalileo on Nov 27, 2010 8:31:17 GMT -5
(OOC: Italicized text- Noir speaking French.)
"The king's will has led me here, it seems... I'm bored... oh so very bored... no humans and spill out red blood..."
This came from a rather deep-sounding voice, in French no less. Yes, it would appear as though Percy had not been the only one from his world to have been spit out on the Dimensional Island. The voice's source was a fairly short man, with a pair of what looked like makeshift sunglasses, an off-white shirt, a dark brown vest and pants, and black shoes and gloves. He had slicked-back black hair, with a stubborn strand sticking up.
This was Noir, the eldest of the three 'demon brothers', also known as the one person Percy does not want to see in a dark alleyway, or anywhere at all for that matter.
Noir's keen senses overheard a conversation... With the infectee's name mentioned. He smirked.
"Well well, it appears as though the king was right! As always!!"
--
Percy was currently trying to make his way through the dark streets, eyes more adjusted to the night by this point. It would appear as though he was rather tense, his muscles somewhat stiff and a hand ready to draw his rapier. His eyes were steadily widening.
He was starting to draw a conclusion. And the conclusion was 'This is not home!!'.
The teenager was just seconds short of having a full-blown freakout.
|
|
|
|
Post by mugenginga on Nov 27, 2010 20:02:42 GMT -5
(OOC: Are we using language barrier in this plot? I've found that it is more fun then auto-translating and less confusing. I don't know about Ganistez, but Vincent would understand French. XD
I'm assuming Noir isn't revealing himself. With three demons, you might have to end up pulling them all out for the three of us. XD)
This isn't where I vanished at.
It was a calm thought from Vincent, more an observation than anything else. He remembered the black space swallow him up and he'd been alive long enough and seen enough things to not just brush it away. After all, he was the sort of thing most people tried to brush away. And it was easy enough... it wasn't as if a storyteller had managed to get the curse right yet.
Vincent knew it was a city, and a large one given the alleys. Cities often had a lot in common, after all. A rat froze up near him, which Vincent gave a dull look at before it ran off. Rats were one of those things they had in common, but there was no interest in feeding until he got a better handle on his situation. Somehow he had shown up in a place he hadn't been before... meaning someone or something was on the move.
|
|
|
|
Post by tsifan on Nov 27, 2010 21:00:34 GMT -5
His gloved hands finally reaching the edge of the building he pulled himself up. He stood up at the edge of the building, his little companion on top of his head looking at the direction he was. There was a strong and full moon tonight it seemed, and all the better to see in with those dark clouds passing by to cover the light filtering through the ozone.
He leaped off the cement of the edge of the building and dead-on in the center of it. He sighed at the aching of his wrist, but at least it wasn't his sword hand, Gripping at the end of his leather glove he pulled the brown thing up and looked over his hand... er paw. No visible damage at all, but that was good as he slid the glove back on and walked over to the other side of the edge of the building. Gazing over the buildings and looking at the streets he could see a few dim lights, but not much. Most of this area seemed abandoned, but all the more reason to check around the place for the girl he was looking for.
Stepping onto the edge of the building, he pushed force into it and leapt. Mid-air if one was in an alleyway they could see him, but he landed on the other side of the building. He appeared to have not hurt anything more than his wrist, guess he could still travel fast. He heard his little companion squeaking and looking at the other direction, and he turned around.
|
|
|
|
Post by DanteMGalileo on Nov 27, 2010 21:57:22 GMT -5
"This... this has to be a dream...!! Hahahahaha...!! Any minute now, I will wake up back at base...!!! Hahaha... haha... ha... ha... ha...," Percy laughed to himself, trying to reassure himself and delay his inevitable freakout. There was no way this could be real!
I mean, really, who drives automobiles that much or collects trash in a strange container?! He laughed to himself again, a sort of humorless laugh. Hahahaha, yes, this is most definitely a dream!!
Chances were high that people living in this general area were thinking he was insane by now, if his apparel didn't say so already.
The wind kicked up by a passing car blew an old newspaper to Percy's feet. The teenager knelt down, picking up the paper with a gloved hand.
If anything would confirm that this was a dream, it would be this. Percy was currently looking at the front page of this newspaper. ("Strange title.") He scanned the date section at the top. It was obviously 1929-
Percy suddenly dropped the paper, the blood draining from his place, his skin going oddly pale. His two hair antennae in the back twisted themselves into a sort of knot.
"Wait... I'm WHERE...?!"
--
"Hohohoho, it seems he's finally realized it!"
|
|
|
|
Post by mugenginga on Nov 27, 2010 22:24:09 GMT -5
Wind was a fickle thing at times. As soon it had taken the paper from where Percy had dropped it, an unusually warm gust knocked it over the top of a building. It even flew to Noir's left side before plummeting down and getting plastered against the side of the wall, just in front of where Vincent's hand rested.
Vincent gave it a slight glance before his brow knitted in confusion. It threatened to blow away again, but with a grab whose speed was entirely unhuman, Vincent had caught it. He pulled it close and looked at the name and location of printing. Void City wasn't a name he knew about, let alone Dimension Island. He crumpled the paper up and tossed it over his shoulder. It landed in a far less damaged dumpster and he looked up towards the bright moon.
Another city... Vincent looked perplexed and looked behind him, What precisely is going on here...?
|
|
