Civilian
STATUS : OFFLINE
POSTS : 16
YEN : 0
PLAYED BY : Dylan
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Post by Mika on Nov 20, 2016 7:37:14 GMT -5
| "I live, so that I might improve. I improve, so that I might live." |
”What lingers in the dark...to make us fear it so? Men? Monsters? Or is there nothing. Nothing but what we let escape our heads...”
[Roppongi - Club Tobu - 8:56pm]
Hah hah hah hah The cold evening air was biting. Sinking its teeth in his lungs. Ripping the breath right from the flesh. Every step and movement pained. As if the frigid teeth somehow sank throughout him. Slicing deep into the muscle. Chilling the bones. Hahhahhahhehhah His suffering a mixture of genuine agony and imagined torment. Where his body was succumbing to exhaustion, his mind was falling prey to fear. Coursing his wearied ligaments with the adrenaline he needed.
To keep running in spite of the difficulty. Hah...hah...huck “Oh f***. This is so bad.” Pants threatening to turn to coughs. His thought pouring from him in uncontrolled fashion. All composure thrown away a few blocks back. Now. Sweat dotting his forehead. Drool glistening on his slacked lips. Mika was in no condition to keep up appearances. In fact! This situation would benefit him greatly to have no appearance at all. The young man needed to disappear. To fade in the shadows of the nigjt. Lest he be found by the lurking monsters.
”I got...I gotta hide. Somewhere.” Speaking outloud to help calm his thoughts. Failing. ”F***. Where can I even go?”
Mika’s troubles had started long before. After all, he had been running for quite some time now. Trying to flee the Yakuza. Or, at least, some men willing to say they were Yakuza. Ir would seem he had made an enemy of them. Though, in retrospect, he could not discern how or why. Perhaps it something to do with dumpster diving on their property? Maybe they didn’t take kindly to people snooping in their personals. Even if it was only for a free meal. And maybe some illegal, untraceable supplies of discarded opiates. They did seem rather surprised by his mere presence. Then when he refused to say he was, well, that really seemed to set them off.
Mika didn’t choose to stick around to resolve the misunderstanding. Once he saw the flicker of light on their knives, he kindly excused himself. Moving faster than he had in years. Spurred on through the crowded sidewalks by the stalking presence of death itself. Rufusing to look back. Not even sure when he first lost them, if he did at all. Just kept running regardless. Making his way far outside the seeder streets of Roppongi. Getting into the more colorful entertainment district before he realizing how far he had truly gone. Only now starting to give out. Limbs drowning in lactic acid. Dragging him down with every new step. Once again, forcing him to consider an alternative means of sanctuary. Namely. A place to lay low, and wait for his face to be forgotten.
Ducking into the next alleyway, Mika found a moment to fill his lungs competely. Squating behind some vending machines. Trying to keep as much of himself out of their radiating light as he could. Curling himself into the smallest ball he could against them and the wall behind him. Alredy starting to shiver...as the winter air set to finishing what it started. See. Mika wasn’t well dressed for the season. Rather than heavy snow boots, he only had some old sneakers. Which neither helped him keep warm or be sneaky. As for pants, some once comfy sweat pants stretched poorly along his lithe legs. The over stretched edges tied shut around his ankles by his excess shoelaces. Not doing as much to seal in the heat as one would hope. Fortunately, he did have a jacket.
It was thick and appropriate, but it was also quite old. Older than his kickers. Every hole patched with duct tape; which was honestly harder to find than the jacket! If it weren’t for that lovely article of attire, he might have frozen to death a few weeks ago. Beneath it was only a tank top, after all. Lastly. Keeping his ears from getting frostbite. A thick wool beanie. So fluffy and full that he actually had a hard time hearing with it pulled over his ears. Probably why he didn’t hear those gangbangers sneaking up on...they were in dress shoes. Why the hell were they sneaky?!” One last, firey exclamation before he tucked in his arms. Squeezing his torso through the jacket’s padding. Trying to convince himself he didn’t need to unzip it to “cool off”. That the burning from the muscle acid wouldn’t be discernable from the burn of hypothermia. That discomfort didn’t trump living to see the morning sun.
Dropping his head down, breathing down into the collar of his coat. Recycling the heat that was trying to escape his worked up body. Doing eberything to not close his eyes. Falling asleep was a no-no. Not at night. Not in this weather. ”Don’t worry about it. The problem at hand. Focus on that.” The new effort to retain consciousness. Pep talks! ”You ran…”, some mental calculations of counted streets and steps, ”Woah. 1.6 kilometers. You go, boss.” Feeling his extremeties start to shake. Feeling anxious as he pondered if it was fatigue or the chill. ”Yeah. You’re a champ. Got away. No one tailing you. Now you get to sit back, and relax…”
Then, just as he started to believe his own lies. Guuuuhoooorruk Mika’s stomach made his whole body vibrate with its hungry call. As if a tiger had possesed his belly. Issuing forth a growl known by all men to cause spine tingling fear. Certainly, it did this much for Mika. The sound was a foreboding of yet another brand of death. One that might not be strong enough to get him tonight, but certainly wouldn’t mind helping the freezing air with its plans. ”...” Yeah, he ran out of self inspiration. Or...stuttered on it for a bit. Distracted by the glow of the vending machines’ internal lighting. The dim glow guiding his eyes. Forcing him to focus on the contents inside. Behind a thick sheet of industrial plastic. Something he couln’t cut or bash his way through. Not in his current state.
Doing his best to stand...Mika resolved to get back up and keep moving. There was something especially painful about the idea of dying cold and hungry next to a box of food. Instead, he hoped to find his way inside a warm, unguarded building. Hell, maybe a soup kitchen. His mind finally plagued by enough troubles to begin forgetting he was being chased before. Dulling his sensitivity to the truth...that he could still be. That there might be eyes on him already. Watching. Assessing. Finding him a match for suitable prey.
A monster in the dark. With fangs ready to bear.
Tag(s): Vivienne Sasaki <¤> Word Count: 1,200 <¤> Notes: Homeless in the winter sucks.
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Storm Rider
STATUS : OFFLINE
POSTS : 54
YEN : 33,500
PLAYED BY : Vy
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Post by Vivienne Sasaki on Nov 20, 2016 9:13:13 GMT -5
| if you freely can give something, it means you have freedom |
Not all her jobs were glorious. But that was mostly her own fault for not having any standards and not turning down ANY jobs. Alright, there had been the occasional, look for pochy, which ended with the parents paying her off because pochy ran in front of a car and to make Vy stop, but anything else she had pretty much gotten done. It was important that she did after all. Only this way she would be able to carve her path in to the world. She knew it could only happen at the cost of other´s paths that would be plastered upon.
And today it was another one of those pochy jobs. A dog needed to be found and killed or taken back to it´s owner. Quite literal owner, for some reasons she had gotten too much informations about this. Having sat there for nearly an hour and listening to the debtor rant about what asshole the target was. Having been shown what was basically a slavery contract between the debtor and the other party and also seen the sign, written in blood. In the underground that contract was as legally binding as something ominous as a favor had value.
And that, plus a nice sum of money, was what she would be getting out of it. The money upfront the favor for whenever. Having left a half hour later, satisfied with the outcome, she had changed her clothes for the dire conditions, long thick stockings, a christmas themed maid outfit with a fitting and fancy maid cap in red, black and green, earmuffs included and a long and colorful scarf. Looking ready to bring someone a veeeery fun christmas present. Her A-T´s had been outfitted with an outer hull of wool and thick cloth to keep her feet warm and easily changeable if red liquid should splatter over it.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she looked good enough to go out and dine with a minister. Instead she would hunt down a dog. It seemed kind of like a waste, but a job was a job and her maid blood would rather burst out of her than if she would let a job not happen. "Tsk." She clucked her tongue and raced through the city. She had only seen a somewhat dirty copy of a picture of the man, slightly burned and other not very hygienic things seeming to have been around it.
But it was enough to find a homeless person. Most of them looked quite unique, trying to stand out more than even the fashionista to make more money and make sure they were left alone by other homeless. And so she found her target, just five hours after she had started searching, having taken at least a few days into account. Seems like her luck was exceptionally high. And his exceptionally low. No surprise really. And what a scumbag this one seemed to be, leaving his family in debt, his dying grandmother with a several million yen one and his already dead father ten million.
A sum no normal person could pay off, much less a dead one. Which is why she would try to bring him in alive. Working was more punishment for these people than actual death. Did not mean she could not have her fun. A cruel smile playing on her full lips, steam slowly rising as she let out a single chuckle and stepped down hard to get her A-T´s to work. An audible sound as well as the reason her fang missed. Sliding slightly in the snow, her fang veered of course too. Instead of a finger of the man, the vending machine split open and cans of warm soup and coffee rolled all over, basically streaming out of it.
"Please Master, stand still for a moment longer. I will only take a few finger before I bring you back with me, honored guest." Vy requested sarcastically and slowly started to skate toward her target. Maybe he would even listen to her and just wait. What did he even have to live for after all? Nothing. Just his own worthless life.
tag(s) : Mika --- words: some --- notes: run as if you wear A-T
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Civilian
STATUS : OFFLINE
POSTS : 16
YEN : 0
PLAYED BY : Dylan
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Post by Mika on Nov 21, 2016 7:14:09 GMT -5
| "I live, so that I might improve. I improve, so that I might live." |
”That was it. Calling down from the sky. The sound of an angel. Bueaitful and terrible.”
Mika’s eyes turned up to the black of the sky. The dounds pf the heavenly gears whilring in his mind. The grinding of metal and plastic. A melody written in the dissonance of friction. AirTreks. Their sound was unmistakeable. Stirring shivers far more powerful than the cold. Curiosity soon sated as his eyes rose to a young lady. A stranger of fair appearance. An angel? One of mercy...or maybe something worse? How delightful it would be if the hand of death chose to soar on wheels instead of wings. Though, this angel did appear substantial. Physical and mortal both, if not a bit unnatural. Her impeccable taste certainly a welcome, but not so typical style. Hah, not an angel. An elf! Perfect for this season. Certainly a much more welcome guest. Mika could definitely go for a gift right about now. Even something as simple as spare change. Enough to buy so ething warm from the machine that lit their rendevouz. Certainly he had been good this following year. Releatively speaking.
Unfortunately, the bad must have out weighed the virtue. No matter his intentions or hopes, Mika’s karma was obviously in the red. Something he did had set him back. Now it was time for fate, agent of the universe’s equilibrium, to set the balance. For no sooner did his eyes lock with hers. The fading glow of his own, smoothered by the icy blue of hers. Quelling in him any warmth he had remaining. Dawning comprehension leading him to throw up his arms. Desperate to block his chest and face with the more expendable flesh. Failing to get his hands higher than his belly before the vending maching folded. A nasty tear of deadly pressure ripping through metal and confections like they were flesh.
The liquid contents of the vendors suddenly erupting. A gush like that of blood. Spraying fresh, all across the snowy ground. Staining the already dirty slush. Mika included. Yet, not doing the job half as well as he did. I, there is denying it. Doesn’t matter if it is unflattering or detrimental to his charms. The fact that a sturdy built machine was just turned to a shredded pile of scrap. The fact that it could have just as easily have been his own innards. Mika’s life so delicately gripped in the maw of a predator. Continuing only by its mercy. Terror filled him, and expelled. He soiled his undergarments and recycled sweatpants. Pissing himself in the lesser discussed, instinctual response. Fight, flight, and fright.
Fortunately, the almost childish response was the least of his worries. Being a bit dirty? Being a bit humiliated? He’d been homeless for years now. These were inescapeable facts of his unfortunate lifestyle. What was worse was this woman. Why had she threarened him so? What was her purpose? Was...was she after him? Him specifically? ”Y-yakuza?” Mika whispered to himself. Most likely going unheard by his assailant. Falling to his ass as he spoke. The backside of his britches made equally wet by the snow. Not that he noticed. No, he was too busy trying to slide and crawl away from her. Knowing full well that distance was moot at this point. Unable to overwrite hundreds of thousands of years of genetic coding. Desperately trying to survive. Even if there is no where to run. Even if it only makes it easier for him to be dispatched. The whole while, his eyes never parting from her own.
The light of neon from the busy street beyond. It reflected off of his stare. Keeping his worried expression plainly visible as shadows enveloped him. The further he retreated into the alleyway, the more less the light could reach him. The less hope he had for escape. Survival. Only when everything seemed over did she start to speak. The minutes that felt as though they would never end, revealed to only be seconds. His adrenaline skyrocketed by his anxiety. Making it hard to hear what she was saying over the heartbeat that thumped in his ears. "Please Master, stand still for a moment longer. I will only take a few finger before I bring you back with me, honored guest." Mika whinced. Clenching his fists as if to hide his fingers. Finishing ehat he started before. Pulling his arms up to pointlessly shield his face and vitals. The way she addrssed him. That title. As though his life and well being were but a game to her. The joke that was certain demise. Worse than twisting a kniffe. Or so he thought...until she actually began to approach. Brandishing her skates, instead of a blade. Fangs ready to carve off bits of his flesh.
”How...how did you do that?”
Hoping that the question would spur the sort of hesitation that it normally did; Mika parted his guarded arms. After all this time. Only when she started to approach. Moving from where she stood at the mouth of the slim alley. Did it reveal that his eyes had not be transfixed on her. Instead. This entire time. He was enthralled by the food dispencers. He was definitely scared of her. But he was mesmerized by the destruction her skates could wreak. The sheer force of the blow. The almost impossible source of energy. How did she build the necessary potential enrgy in such short movements? It was amazing! ”I have never seen AT’s used like that. That’s what did it, yes? Did the yakuza weaponize your skates. It is amazing.” The way he spoke, he was a fan of her. The tone was so awstruck. Had the fright knocked some sense out of him? Certainly she had not hit him yet, so she wasn’t to blame.
However, if she kept approaching him...she would find his questions doubling in pace. ”Are you with the yakuza, or just hired help?Is this about the dumpster?I was just looking for some food." Glancing to the mess of food and beverage now wasting away on the filty ground. Stomach audibpy growling at the notion of such squander. "F***...all that food.Gone.Wait, CAREFUL!Don’t run your skates through the soda.Forzen corn syrup can bond as tightly as aeronautical-grade adhesives!” Why the hell did he do that? Uuuhg, he just couldn’t hold back. As soon as the thought occured to him, Mika blurted it out. Even if it didn’t serve his best interests for her skates to remain in working condition. Impetuous idiot. By now he had his hand out as if to caution her. Or more accurately, to beg her to stop. Not to get any closer to him. ”Wait. Just...”
”Wait.” Another, more sincere pause. Thoughts trying to gather behind his fearful expression. ”I’d rather you kill me from there...than be drug back as someone’s prisoner. Their property.” With how labored his breathes were, it was obvious he was scared of both prospects. Yet, still he made his request. Even if it was to be ignored.
Tag(s): Vivienne Sasaki <¤> Word Count: 1,125 <¤> Notes: All that food...wasted!
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