Banette
Junior Member
[M:0]
Beware the ADD Hookers!
Posts: 61
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Post by Banette on Apr 25, 2009 11:15:01 GMT -5
Before Silver could reply to all this, he was promptly pushed aside by Paul, nearly knocking his gun from his hand. Fumbling for a grip as quickly as possible, he spun around to demand what exactly was so urgent and that he could have shot someone accidentally if he wasn't so skilled with the weapon, when he saw the beret boy.
"...."
Was he from out of town or something? Seriously- Silver knew for a fact his owns disguise was tacky, and I mean SERIOUSLY tacky, though this nerd blew him out of the water. Who in their right mind wore a beret? Oh oui oui monsieur, un autre baguette s'il vous plait.
Regardless, Frenchboy could still be considered a threat in his eyes. As far as threats went, if Damion was hurt or did and Paul clearly failed, he'd most likely take some damage to his own job for not preventing whatever was coming.
Hence, he kept to where he was, keeping the pistol ready to snipe the beret boy the moment he tried anything while he was distracted by Paul. He trusted his own reaction time, and was an excellent shot, therefore he figured he could deal with the boy as quickly as possible should it come to it.
However, his focus wasn't entirely on the boy as Paul's was, rather, he kept watch unless Frenchboy had any backup to note. While he came alone and appeared pathetic enough, scapegoats typically do, and therefore, he'd shoot his gaze around on his spot in front of the casino. After his second wary inspection of the area, he mentally sighed, his mind whining one thing among all the other quick thoughts and suspicions.
"Well, so much for my break..."
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Post by Lucas on Apr 25, 2009 13:48:41 GMT -5
The startled stop left Lucas in a semi-crouch, papers clutched steadily against his chest as he stared at this impossibly close range at the Brain family heir. Now that he was here... He couldn't blow it. Those two that he was hanging out with had to be part of the family, as well. They had seen his face... and he had seen their guns! Lucas was beginning to rethink just how smart involving himself further than he was ever meant to really was.
Well, the blond heir seemed to enjoy it. His reaction of repeated 'awesome's only widened Lucas's eyes and further expanded his disbelief at the situation. He had just stumbled into the midst of three very possible Brain family members wielding guns and wearing trench coats and rather menacing facial expressions. And then the heir didn't seem to enjoy the fact that it had taken so long for him to speak? What a puzzling kid, not to mention impatient. Lucas couldn't help but furrow his brow and muster a questioning sort of look on his pink features. Then, as quickly as the heir's initial smile faded, it returned, and this time closer than before. Apparently, the toll of the whole situation had rendered Lucas's joints petrified, and he couldn't jerk away even as his nerves jumped all over the place. The... compliment... Lucas had somehow uttered finally seemed to register with the blond, and Lucas found himself slowly nodding, though his eyes strayed as he wondered what kind of drugs this family dealt. "Eh-heh..." he muttered, attempting to keep his smile convincing. He was in dangerous waters now, and the most he could do was make friends with these guys... if these guys had friends. Or at least mutter his apologies and get away while he still could? No, no, Lucas knew that the police force needed dire help in this 'family' business... He knew that they hadn't been able to make much progress. Getting on the inside, perhaps, in this rare chance might be the key to solving this matter. He hadn't been asked to do it, he certainly wasn't trained to do it, but when Lucas saw an opportunity to take matters into his own hands when it came to crime and bad guys, (something Lucas couldn't stand!) he had to take it.
When the heir mentioned his scarf, Lucas stuttered and glanced down at it briefly. Instead of a clear view past his chin to his red-colored accessory, however, there was a hand of brass knuckles. Before Lucas could comprehend just how terrifying this was, he was yanked forward, and he whipped his head up to come face-to-face with, not the blond boy with the image he had become so familiar with, but the purple-haired one that had been standing nearby. The very, very menacing, stone-faced, intimidating one. He gasped from the lack of space now between his scarf and neck; not to mention the lack of space between himself and this very capable man (and by capable, he meant able to rip him into tiny little pieces without a second thought. That's how these mafia people were, weren't they?)
Okay, perhaps he had gone too far. Perhaps he shouldn't have stumbled into their midst in the first place. Perhaps he had gotten much too close to something he should have only gazed at from a safe distance. Lucas's blue eyes flickered in Damion's direction, but invisible strings kept them right on his current threat. However, Lucas did not display a look of complete fear. His initial surprise had been watered down by his own determination, his own morality. Lucas was not an easily-swayed person; even in the face of danger, Lucas was willing to do what he could to make things better. He wouldn't have suggested involving himself in the first place if he didn't trust himself to be tough enough for it. He didn't have a weapon, he didn't have a single advantage over this guy: only the papers sandwiched between his arms and chest, but those were certainly something he didn't need to show members of the Brain family. Thinking quickly, Lucas looked the boy squarely in the eye (who couldn't have been much older than himself) and devised something that might get him over this first hurdle. He didn't want to present himself as a threat, but he did want to keep their interest. "Gosh, behavior like this might suggest you all are up to something..." Lucas said innocently enough with just the right knowledgeable undertone, despite the fact that his neck was currently being wrung. He was thankful for the one comfort he had, nestled in his pocket courtesy of Professor Rowan: it wasn't his pokemon, (as he was certainly not a trainer of any kind) but he had been advised to borrow it whenever he walked the streets of Celadon. That was how terrible this mafia situation was, and that was how much Lucas wanted to put an end to all of it.
Either way, he needed to say something that would keep him with them, as unpleasant as that seemed. He knew the heir more than any of them (which wasn't saying much) so Lucas dared to focus on the blond. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say this guy was your bodyguard or something. But... You don't look like you'd need someone to protect you... You can do that yourself, right? Hmm..." Lucas said thoughtfully, targeting what he had already deduced about the heir. He was a scientist, after all, and he did hold a certain regard for his own judgmental skills. Still, he knew he was taking a big risk, and hopefully he didn't strike any nerves, especially in this guy he was currently at the disposal of. Either way, he'd be able to handle himself. No matter the fear that currently shook his bones, the desire to finally triumph over this mafia business was exceedingly overwhelming.
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Post by nickbo on Apr 25, 2009 16:20:10 GMT -5
The gentle shove back had certainly not seemed wrong at all. In fact, Damion hadn't questioned Paul's actions aside from the quick curious look he shot his bodyguard. If Paul saw it fit to shove him back the blonde certainly wasn't going to complain but it still seemed somewhat bewildering; he had been enjoying a nice conversation with the other! Conversation... Well, that wasn't something he usually participated in, considering the fact that he just didn't have time! Still, it was about scarves so the conversation was at least interesting! Damion still stumbled back too despite the fact it was merely a gentle shove yet despite his clumsiness he still regained his balance, glancing back to...
Well, Paul manhandling the other.
"Paul!"
Despite the fact there was clearly excitement at the boy's fast action there was also confusion in the slight yell. It was so sudden! Of course, Damion didn't mind sudden at all because sudden and fast were good but the other didn't mean harm, right? Paul did look totally BA doing that though but... Well, the conversation had been about scarves! That wasn't interruption-worthy! Glaring his bright orange eyes were slowly focused on his bodyguard 'til the threatened one did in fact start speaking.
They weren't up to something thank you very much! They were being decisively non-diabolical in fact! Damion just wanted to go and see the casino! His mind erratically flickering back to the casino started his whining; he wanted to go into it instead of standing and being all slow! The Poochyena-like noises certainly weren't threatening but perhaps the eighteen year old had discovered that 'threatening' did not work for him. He wanted to go in! When the other continued however Damion begun to feel like... Like he had to be threatening and prove himself.
Pssch! So perhaps Paul was his bodyguard! That didn't matter. It wasn't like he needed a bodyguard and the beret'd boy just wouldn't understand the complexities of such! Maybe the other understood a little though since he had mentioned Damion didn't 'look' like the sort of person who needed protection and the blonde could only agree. Of course he didn't look like such! For some reason he immediately begun to have the urge to prove himself to the dorkily-dressed one. A frustrated look at first spread across his face at first but soon it became excited. A challenge! Restlessness and the desire to prove his worth surfaced.
"I can protect myself!"
Maybe this restlessness caused his thought process to become even more scattered and he almost pounced forward. His hand grasped the wrist of his challenger and he yanked it away, already breaking into a run. He did glance up to Paul and though there was the a large grin on his face could there have been an apologetic look? Then Damion's eyes flickered quickly ahead to the door of the casino as he pulled Lucas ahead with him out of Paul's grip. This was better! He was moving now! Speed! He barely seemed out of breath as he called back, "You said that I could go ahead Paul! You said!" [/b] It was true, he did! ... Somewhat like that, Damion couldn't really remember. He already managed to burst through the doors though, his eyes eagerly flickering over the sights. Well, it wasn't anything particularly new but it still managed to satisfy the mafia heir; the constant flicker of slots, the chime of coins, the movement of people! Everything was moving hence everything was good, right? He still ran forward though, perhaps dragging the other boy unfortunately with him. It wasn't like he had a particular path though and it seemed amazing he was able to navigate through the people at the speed, his trench coat tails fluttering behind him (NICKBO'S TRENCHCOAT FETISH PLZ). Plus all that energy he had pent out from standing outside was being released. There were so many distractions though! It was a miracle, however, that as he advanced that be managed not to notice one thing that would probably distract him the most; the chest slightly revealing outfit of a casino-worker. His eyes had been focused on a particularly fast-moving slot machine and well... It was rather too late to ogle at the outfit avoid. "M-move it!"He still somehow had enough time to yell that out though, despite the fact collision seemed imminent. [/blockquote]
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Post by Wrath on Apr 25, 2009 18:57:41 GMT -5
Paul was in full red-alert mode. It was as if he had some sort of mental proximity sensors around Damion, so that whenever someone came too close to the blond an alarm went off in his head. It didn’t matter that the nerdy looking boy with the beret looked rather harmless. A single-minded desperation to keep Blondie safe took over all the surly teen’s logic. All Paul really realized was that someone was close to Damion, and that meant that this person had the capability to hurt him.
The purple-haired boy heard the gasp the red-scarfed boy uttered as he was yanked forward, and it made a stiff smirk snake across his face. Mild irritation flickered across his face momentarily however, making the smirk waver. Damion had called his name in a generally disapproving manner. Paul hoped the blond would just be a good little puppy boy for a moment, stay exactly where he was, and not interfere.
Paul certainly felt in control of the situation. He had the non-resisting boy in his grip, and Paul was sure Silver was keeping an eye on the surroundings in case this one was nothing but a distraction. All in all, he felt as safe as was possible in that particular setting, surrounded by tourists who could really have been assassins sent by the Rockets, or casinos and hotels that could have held a sniper. Paul needed to get Damion out of there. But first, there was the matter of the boy in his grip.
He was scared, that was for certain. He should have been. Paul would have killed him without a second thought had they been in a less public setting. But the other boy didn’t look fully and completely terrified. Staring threateningly into the boy’s blue eyes, Paul saw the palpable determination there. It didn’t appear to Paul that if he released the nerd from his grip that he would run away screaming like a little bitch. This was decidedly not good. Paul’s violent approach and manhandling hadn’t even frightened the male enough to silence him! All this really worked to dent Paul’s pride. He was talking! And at the words a single, rather crude thought entered Paul’s mind. Oh fuck.
The words were meaningless. Blather. But the obvious knowledge concealed beneath them made yet more alarms go off in Paul’s purple-rimmed head. This nerd fucking knew who they were. Once again, the boy was immeasurably fortunate they were in front of a casino rather than, say, in a dark alley conveniently nearby a fast-flowing river. Paul could so easily have snapped his sorry little neck. He knew exactly how, too…from this position it would have been such an easy matter to—
But killing the boy was not an option. Not here. Not at the moment. Paul moved his head back slightly, shooting Silver an urgent, serious look that should have conveyed how desperately they needed to get the hell out of there. But the nerd. Oh, the fucking nerd! He just didn’t know when to shut the hell up! He addressed Damion this time, and how in the hell had he figured out Paul was his bodyguard? Well, if he thought about it, he supposed it wasn’t exactly too hard to figure out since he was being very protective of the blond. But the way the words were spoken unnerved Paul. It was as if the nerd actually knew how to speak to the blond, how to subtly poke at his pride and how to get him to react. And did the blond ever react.
The bodyguard had his eyes on the red-scarfed male, and he didn’t see as Damion prepared to pounce forwad. All he was aware of was a sudden flash of trenchcoat, green scarf, and blond hair as Damion suddenly appeared next to him, grabbing onto the nerd’s wrist and pulling him out of Paul’s hold.
And then he ran away towards the casino with the suspicious intruder being pulled along. Then Damion grinned back at his bodyguard as if it were all a game, and called out. Without so much as a glance at Silver, Paul was running after him, his face bright red with fury, looking just about completely and utterly ready to take a life. Many lives, in fact.
“BLONDIE, YOU FUCKING IDIOT! GET THE FUCK BACK HERE, NOW! FUCK!”[/b] He roared in a decidedly not-so-subtle way, shoving anyone who came anywhere near getting into his way. He burst through the doors of the casino, eyes scanning desperately for the telltale shock of blond hair of his charge. Spotting Damion ahead, he raced after him, pushing both men and women out of his way with a single-minded fury. He needed to get back to Damion. Without him by his side, Paul felt horrified and strange. And the thought of Blondie getting hurt, and him never having his charge by his side again made Paul’s expression practically insane.
But he was getting closer to the blond, and the horror squeezing his gut began to lessen. As long as he was nearby, everything would be alright. He could always protect the other. That said, he was still pissed. Furious. Damion had run away, and yes he had allowed him to do that technically, but with a suspicious intruder?! Paul’s previous fury returned as he caught up to the boy, turning to look at him.
“DAMION! WHAT THE F— ”[/b] He began to roar, not caring that there were people around. However, at that point he spotted Marge and cut off his sentence, realizing Damion was very likely about to crash into the provocatively dressed female. Well, if it got Damion to stop moving, Paul wasn’t about to complain.
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Sarchu!
Junior Member
[M:0]
PFFFT Sarchu is too cool to be toast!
Posts: 84
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Post by Sarchu! on Apr 26, 2009 8:12:09 GMT -5
[/i] performing here. People were supposed to watch her, although she would much rather everyone turned their heads the other way when she got up on stage. Still, she wasn't watched when she was off-stage, and that almost had her worried... Could someone have caught onto her? Were they following her now, just waiting for her to leave the casino so that they could "take care of her?" Pink eyes widened a bit at this thought, and a quick glance behind her showed her that it was indeed a casino worker that seemed for be watching her. Ohnoohnoohnoohnoohno. Her train of thought suddenly crashed, being taken over by various "oh no's" and other statements of worry. She couldn't think what to do, if there was anything to do at all. What about her training for this mission? Hadn't it told her what to do in a case like this?! It should have, it would have been a lot more useful than other things! Still, the fact remained that she wasn't unable to defend herself, and her instincts took over as she turned around, a determined look in her eyes to stare at the casino worker that had been following her. "Excuse me, I-"[/b] The world might never know what she was about to say, for just as she was saying it and turning her foot twisted on the ground, causing her to fall in a heap of dress and feather, a sharp pain in her ankle and an embarrassed expression on her face. It was obvious this was going to happen eventually; she had accepted the fact that she would fall at least once. But... did it have to be now? When she was confronting someone who might be trying to kill her?! Face almost completely red, she opened her mouth to speak again, but said something completely different from what she had originally intended as she saw a blonde blob running towards the woman. "Look out!"[/b] She called out, seemingly forgetting that she thought her life was in danger from this woman, a confused and slightly alarmed look on her face. It wouldn't do to have everyone on the floor, would it? And she might fall into her as he fell into her and it would be a big mess. It would draw attention to her, which she was told not to do... and quite frankly didn't want anyway.[/ul] ooc: eilyhi bad&short i have to go do stuff for my dad's birthday, sorryyyy. D: <3
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Post by pineappleluff on Apr 26, 2009 14:27:00 GMT -5
This was ridiculous! Pure blasphemy as far as Cynthia was concerned. She was a high up official of the police! Not technically leader, but she was up there!
So why on earth was she driving an ice cream truck? Cynthia had very little patience in general, much less with small children (Except Bugsy, though he's a preteen. Not a small child or teenager. Which was why Cynthia loved adored him so much.
But somehow she was now driving an ice cream truck around in the most obnoxious outfit, possibly designed in the exact opposite of Cynthia's style. If that wasn't enough all of her wonderful blond hair was somehow stuffed under a short black wig that itched like no other. Sadly, that was the only thing that she wore that was black, but certainly not the only article that was short. A bubble gum pink t-shirt a size to small (The color attracted young girls, the size attracted teenage boys ) with a happy little ice cream man on front and a pink skirt. Not a knee length skirt either, it was practically a mini skirt.
Cynthia must've been very, very drunk when she had agreed to this. Damn alcohol. Thankfully she had been able to at least chose the shoes, either more pink in heels, or white tennis shoes. I'll let you guess that one. She hadn't even gotten to wear her lumbreon pins because they were to obvious. But she would do this for the sake of the mission, though behind the fake smile as ice cream melted over her knuckles she was plotting her revenge. Oh it would be a sweet as the vomit inducing treats surrounding her.
As she drove on, truck bleating out off key, upbeat music she carefully lowered her foot on the acceleration, barely avoiding the temptation to floor it and be done with it. But no, she had to cruise around at 3 miles per hour, listening to the same melody loop over and over. It would be imprinted on her mind for the rest of her life, she just knew it.
Rounding a corner achingly slowly she saw a building that immediately upped her pulse ever-so-slightly. Sunset Station. Giovanni's basically favorite casino. She recalled they probably had an agent or so working under cover there, but could not resist the urge to do something dangerous, to at least get her mind off this horrendous vehicle. Pulling up toward the entrance of the building she turned off the engine, popping her head out the window, looking for any potential customers.
She flipped on the music again and waited, looking the exact opposite of how she felt. Perky. Cynthia never knew she could pull perky off so well, but she'd managed so far.
((Haha, laaaammmee. Now...interaction with Cynthia? Or maybe I'll send her in the building somehow. xP ))
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breloom
Full Member
Wild SHOJOSPRIT appeared!
Posts: 193
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Post by breloom on Apr 26, 2009 18:30:14 GMT -5
Thorton Nejiki found this utterly pointless.
He still had a week before anything remotely interesting was going to happen to the city of Celadon. So why was he even here?
He couldn’t reflect on the full stupidity of the situation, however, simply due to the fact that between all of the screaming drunken people, loud music, and flashing lights, the right-hand man to the Family Head Palmer could hardly hear himself think… and when Thorton couldn’t hear himself think, he was practically useless. Had he been a bit stronger… or taller… or more interesting in any way, he would have gotten a lower spot in the roster.
But at least, with a lower spot in the roster, people would pay attention to him.
The teenager just so happened to be the annoyed evil lion who says ‘baka bakka’ (literally, ‘I am surrounded by idiots’) to his hyenas. He was also one of the few people in the family who actually had any brains. Due to him being the annoyed evil lion saying ‘baka bakka’ to his hyenas, as well as one of the few people in the family who had any brains, Thorton had successfully landed himself the position of ‘Consigliore’.
Whatever that meant.
So what was the theoretical irritated lion, who happened to be lacking in the hyena department, doing standing around inside a Rocket nightclub? Well, Thorton happened to be the representative of the Brain (ha ha) family. This led him to be, of course, dragged to Kanto to deal with the whole ‘truce’ façade (not to mention the fact that Palmer was incapable of doing anything without him stepping in and pointing out numerous errors)…
Wait, he thought suddenly. What am I doing loitering in here?
Suddenly panicked, the teenager was jolted out of his thoughts at the much more dangerous situation at hand: those these innocent people may not recognize him on sight, some other residents of the Sunset Station casino certainly would. Jolted back into motion by this unpleasant thought, Thorton ducked downwards despite his short stature in the first place. Weaving through the crowd of people, the boy nearly made his way out of the casino.
My use of the word ‘nearly’ suggests that something must have blocked his exit – say, for example, an extremely unpleasant purple-haired bodyguard being rammed in the stomach by Thorton’s bird-hair?
Uh, yeah. That’s what happened.
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Mim
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Secret project say whaaaat?
Posts: 203
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Post by Mim on Apr 26, 2009 18:33:12 GMT -5
Ah, she'd been noticed, how delightful~
Marge's eyes flitted nonchalantly to her left as the dancer looked back a quick moment, pleased smile growing on her face. What with the girl's behavior, it seemed she wasn't very used to a casino environment. Otherwise she wouldn't have looked so nervous when faced with a person following her; Marge herself had been followed a few times, albeit by gamblers of the opposite gender. (Incendie had taken care of them. Marge's reputation had risen a little as well, since the casino had suffered no damage from the Will-O-Wisp the Ninetales had concentrated on the manhoes people asking for another game.)
So this girl was either a new dancer or something else, Marge reasoned as she stepped neatly around an abandoned drink. Not that she really cared about the other person's real occupation. Hell, Marge had a job at the Casino and that was that, or at least what made her world turn. Still, it was her break time and she didn't feel like hitting the bar just yet (she had another few shifts to go and didn't want to blow her rigged winning streak). That said, the dealer shifted her card belt back into place from its tilted position and continued following the dancer at a steady pace and distance.
Then the girl turned around, said something and fell over. Marge let her smile flash larger a moment before her expression smoothed over, eyebrow raised as she looked down at the other. Poor thing, the heels were obviously killing her. "Not so easy wearing those, hm?" She nodded quickly at Maylene's shoes before the pink-haired girl's next words caught her ear. Look out? For what?
A storm of words strong enough to cow an Exploud (if Exploud could understand "fuck" repeated enough times to traumatize a preschooler) alerted Marge to what was worth looking out for, and the casino worker turned just in time to have somethingone plow full force into her. Some blond-haired boy; Marge let out a "Watch it," and got one palm between her and the boy before the collision could actually push Marge to the ground or something. Amber eyes narrowed slightly at the boy's face, she stepped back a bit before crossing her arms and balancing her weight into a heavier no-you're-not-getting-me-to-fall-over position. For some reason this kid looked familiar, but the wild hair and trench coat weren't ringing a bell in her head yet. While wondering in the back of her head where she'd seen him before, Marge glanced quickly at the boy shoving through the crowd up toward the blond and spoke. "What's the rush, kid? The Station's up all night."
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Post by havoc on Apr 28, 2009 11:02:51 GMT -5
Dawn made her way through the almost packed casino, sometimes having to squeeze past overly drunken and adrenaline-fuelled people, to try and get to the center of the place. After all, where best to start looking around than from the heart of this bustling place.
Her attention was, however, overtaken by a series of quickly unfolding events. Something made her turn her head to one side slightly, just in time to see a rather flamboyantly dressed dancer turn and fall to the ground, clearly having injured herself in some fashion on those impractical heels she was wearing. The dancer was obviously new to this, as Dawn doubted a pro would have fallen so spectacularly with a simple turn to the side, and she wondered how come the clearly untrained dancer was trying to make her way across the casino floor, and more importantly, what had made her turn from her desired path.
This all registered within seconds, and Dawn’s feet had already started moving towards the fallen woman before her mind had finished processing those facts. Just as she was about to reach the performer, her approach was hampered by something blond shooting past, which then collided with what seemed to be a dealer. Clearly, the woman could be taken for nothing else but that, as her clothing also seemed to emphasize. Well, the crash didn’t develop spectacularly, with no-one falling to the ground, so she focused back on the artiste. She seemed like the one who needed more help right now than the two people who had collided. They could deal on their own.
Dawn bent down to the dancer.
“Hey, are you alright? Heels are deadly things…”
Yes, it was ludicrous to come gallivanting over to help someone you didn’t know, but that was Dawn for you. She couldn’t simply stand back and watch as someone got hurt. So her strange twisted sense of goodwill had made her come over to try and help before she had even realized she was doing so. And that made no utter sense. Her fumbled words didn’t help anything at all, and she simply hoped the performer would understand that she wasn’t trying to be pretentious or anything, but simply trying to help her fellow human being.
“Um…can you get up?” she asked. Stupid question really, but you know, you asked out of politeness. Unless there was actually something wrong, in which case the polite phrase actually did some use…
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Post by Dragon on Apr 28, 2009 15:02:22 GMT -5
[The commotion was enough to draw a careful eye, each relative figure making his or her way through a sea of frustrated patrons in the distance suddenly under diligent watch. Currently, position was incredibly accurate for such observations, eyepiece tenderly brought towards the retina even as lips were whetted in curious anticipation.] "..." [The rifle sat so tenderly upon the shoulders, sleek and positioned to drop any threat in the blink of an eye. Scope was focused and re-focused quickly before the entire scene came into view.] "There you are. Now let's see..." [Breath hitched upon a very familiar figure, blond and currently out in the open. Quickly, the scope was forced into a panoramic motion.] "...c'mon c'mon...how many of you fuckers?...he can't be alone. [Focus came upon a surly figure swearing and staring at the heir from a few meters off. Lips curled a bit before moving on and...holy shit. He was here, too? Boss would have to know about this. Scope zoomed back in and focused on the blond, eyebrow raised at the figure being gripped. Another one? No records on this guy.] "...shit." [Sniper rifle set off carefully to the side with the support gently tucked under one arm, communications were opened from the press of a button attached to a collar-affixed device.]
---
"But I insist. Your next drink is on the house." A hospitable smirk was presented as the man addressed stood, offering to shake Giovanni's hand and expressing his gratitude before turning back towards the dealer, signaling for another invite into the game before sitting down. It was one of his many duties while staying within the Casino -- they weren't called VIPs for nothing. It was usually the simplest gesture that would have certain travelers always returning through his doors, and a good entrepreneur always knows how to properly utilize the 'tools of the trade.'
"Sir. It's an emergency." [Rifle is once again mounted with finesse, eyepiece raised and scope re-focused.]
Brows flattening in disappointment, the Syndicate Leader meandered a bit away from his current position at the high-roller tables to touch his ear once, gently speaking to himself through the crowds. "Report."
"The heir is here...both of them. Two bodies close by. I have a clear shot on one. Orders? [Cross hair carefully held on the figure swearing and caught up in his own worries, finger tapping the trigger.]
Both of them? Well then...this would be quite the opportunity. "Keep the targets in your sight. Where are they?"
"Restaurant district, Boss." [Finger releases the trigger and continues to follow given orders.]
"Excellent." Another tap on his ear and Giovanni was striding casually in the proper direction, Persian allowing a moment to finish licking at her forepaw before finding the motivation to follow along. No need to resort to assassination so soon, especially with such a...special guest within the visiting party.
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Post by nickbo on May 2, 2009 4:37:23 GMT -5
Well, she shoved back.
Damion was relieved it didn't end up in some sort of mass collision. Well, freakishly relieved. He didn't want to crash into some random chest lady and most probably end up on the floor; who wanted to be there anyway? He didn't want to be on the floor in a Casino. He practically tripped over his feet though as he stumbled back, glancing up towards the lady and... Well... Getting slightly distracted one might say.
By that it meant his gaze wasn't entirely on her face.
What? Her outfit was distracting! He was merely observing first!; if she was going to expose herself shamelessly of course he was going to look quickly! Look quickly, however, seemed to becoming slightly difficult for the eighteen year old. There was nothing wrong with him looking if she chose to present herself like that, pssch. He even forgot the presence of the bodyguard that had been belting out words colourful enough to paint a rainbow behind him though that was partly because the other quietened. It was certainly nice to have a small amount of time to look when Paul wasn't shouting obscenities anyway (though actually the violent yells of his bodyguard tended to comfort him, even when directed at him).
Oh, she started speaking.
The words immediately jerked his gaze up with a slight yelp at the fact he realized that, yes, she could speak and voice her opinion, despite the fact she had even spoken before. She also, however, questioned the most bizarre things. 'What's the rush?' What kind of inquiry of that; Damion wasn't in a rush but instead he was being rational; perfectly rational since it made sense to run!
"There was no rush; why were you walking in the first place!?"
His impatient tone rung throughout the statement and he stamped his foot slightly yet that only managed to emphasize his slight immaturity. Well, to him it didn't matter that the station was up all night and to him that was just an excuse to be slow! Speed, however, was even pushed out of his head as his eyes wandered down her outfit. It was distracting, okay? His short attention span clearly became some sort of horrible victim to her clothing (or lack of such). ooc/ whatevers okay ;o;
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Post by Wrath on May 5, 2009 17:16:33 GMT -5
Damion was ahead. He was getting closer. He was almost to him. Nothing could have stopped him from reaching the blond. But then, something hit his stomach. He gave a grunt of pain and surprise folding forward slightly and clutching a brassknuckled hand to his abdomen. It was all but painless really. Just unexpected. Nothing Paul couldn’t deal with. He straightened up almost immediately, glaring at the humanoid form below him. Whoever had knocked into him had ended up on his backside. All the better for a decisive kick to the head in Paul’s opinion. This idiot was keeping him from Damion! He lifted his foot to kick him, planning to move past him the moment that task was accomplished, but he paused, his foot lifted a little in the air. He set the leg down and gave a growl in the back of his throat. What. In. the. Hell. Was another Brain doing here? Well, Paul wasn’t about to keep the question to himself. He didn’t know, and Thorton, the useless little brainiac, probably did. Unless the madness that usually comes with genius had finally set in and he was wandering the streets thinking he was a Lickitung, Paul thought almost hopefully, giving a mocking smirk at the amusing idea.
“The hell’re you doin’ here? Thorton, watch where the hell you’re going, dumbass! Now get outta my damn way!”[/b] Without really waiting for a reply to his partially rhetorical question, Paul sidestepped the roadblock and continued his violent approach toward Damion.
Then very suddenly, Paul realized he was back by Damion’s side. And instantly everything seemed a little better. Of course the bodyguard didn’t let his relief show through the furious and downright bestial expression on his face. There were people fucking everywhere in here! And sure, the bodyguard would have guessed this to be the case, and normally would have dealt with it calmly, but at the moment he was on full alert after what had happened outside with beret boy. Thinking of the red-capped male made him eye his surroundings, seeking him out. He noticed with both relief and suspicion that he was nowhere to be found. Maybe Paul had made more of an impression on him then he had initially believed. Well, that was one down-- Paul’s eyes returned to Damion and they hardened and narrowed --and one to go. He moved closer to the boy, standing behind him and to the side so he could almost mutter directly into the other’s ear.
“For Mew’s fucking Darkraidamned sake, what in the hell do you think you’re fucking doing?” he hissed, his voice low but overflowing with malice. Just because he cared more for the boy than he could say didn’t mean he couldn’t be malicious toward him. How else was he supposed to discipline the foolish, wayward kid? The urge to simply grab Damion and pull him against his will out of the casino and run until they were safely back at the Brain compound was overwhelming. But if there were spies or assassins here, leading them directly to the Brains was not an intelligent course of action. And despite his gangster-esque choice of clothes and his brusque way of acting, Paul really was intelligent. Even if he didn’t choose to share his thoughts, they were there in his mind. Ready to be implemented at any given moment. However the sudden change of setting from the cool night air and the general darkness broken only by flashing lights to this, loud, bright, and stuffy casino was a shock to his senses. It was difficult to plan an escape route when you were also looking around for anything suspicious, flinching inwardly at the noise of slot machines, and—What was this chest doing here?
Okay, so perhaps Paul’s focused mode had gotten distracted when his eyes had trailed around the room, and past the woman whom Damion had bumped into, only to return right back to her. Well, not quite to her face, really. More to a certain part of her anatomy. It caught his eye before he could stop it and, well, if she was going about flaunting it, then he shouldn’t fell bad for loo--! SHIT! This was not the time to be ogling the chests of random women in casinos. A light flush entered his bronzed cheeks, however, it was hardly noticeable. At least, Paul hoped it wasn’t noticeable. He looked her briefly up and down. She appeared to be a dealer. She was dressed as one, that was for certain. Except her clothes…well, Paul was sure she was a hit with the male denizens of this little corner of hell.
Paul’s face was taut, his tired, somewhat bloodshot eyes making his appearance just that much more insane. He offered the woman a scathing half smirk, stepping to the side before sweeping in front of Damion and positioning himself between the two.
“Fuck off, bitch. We ain’t here to talk to some slutty card dealer,” He snapped disdainfully, lifting his chin and glaring at her a moment before looking back at Damion. His face lost the smirk when he eyed the other boy, but definitely not the anger. “Let’s go, Blondie. Now.”[/b] He ordered darkly. It wasn’t often he gave Damion a command of any sort, but this was a serious situation and Paul was pissed. He hoped that the blond would obey him. Because if he didn’t, Paul would have to go with the forcefully pulling Damion the hell out of there plan. And that might have been a bit more of a hassle.
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Mim
Full Member
[M:0]
Secret project say whaaaat?
Posts: 203
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Post by Mim on May 16, 2009 17:46:29 GMT -5
Cute kid. Somewhat perverse, but that may have been her fault. Still, he looked to be in that wonderfully ambivalent stage of life. Marge was tempted to lean over just for the hell of it, drop her cards and see what he did when she went to pick them up. Considering the jittery air that surrounded the boy, though, she supposed he might have just shot further into the casino and led the storm of cuss words following him around in a nice game of Distract-Marge's-Customers-And-Reduce-Her-Income. Scarf Boy said something, drawing her eyes up from the identifying scrap of fabric that had gotten the kid his dubbing. No rush, and why was she walking? The dealer really did lean forward then, a bit of a toothy smirk showing. "Hun, people in here only run if they're trying to get out of whatever debts they've gotten themselves into. You want attention, you can keep tearing along." Attention; now why did she feel like that was something this kid should have been avoiding? She folded her arms, then straightened before adjusting her posture with a small movement. The source of prior Exploud-worthy swear words showed up then, something Marge raised her eyebrows at. At least he had some sort of volume control, proven by whatever that raspy hissing was supposed to be. (More cuss words, actually. She got that much from his expression.) The woman let them be, turning her head a quick moment as a clattering rush of casino tokens distracted her. Dammit, one of the slot games had out-rigged itself and surrendered a good amount of cash. Ah, well. It secured a few hours more of playing for whoever the lucky hell it was, hopefully enough to deposit the coins right back into the house's profits. Oh, he was the Brain heir, that was why attention should have been sliding off the kid like water off a Psyduck. (When working at a gambling house you caught on to who was what and how they looked and such. Only some of such gossip was reliable, but those parts were what Marge remembered the most.) At least, the purple-haired boy was supposed to be keeping attention off of him, an objective ruined by their loud - and in a casino, that word was rarely used - entrance. She assumed he was a bodyguard, anyways, what with the Luxray vision and Arbok-esque expression currently being employed. Like the dancer Marge had been watching, the older teenager seemed out of place in the boisterous atmosphere swamping Sunset Station. So anyways, back to the HEY THIS KID'S THE BRAIN HEIR thing. Marge just barely managed to cover the flash of understanding that blinked through her mind with a quickly raised hand. As she brushed dark bangs back into their place between (not in) her eyes she let the dark-haired boy unload some more profanity. The arm still wrapped around her lower torso slid back to its natural position, hand propping itself on her hip. It was going to take a lot more than insults to get Marge out of their way. She had a physical advantage, after all. Of course, this was an interesting way to spend her break, since usually she just watched the general chaos in the casino. Thus the dealer tilted her head a bit and replied quite casually, silkily even. "No way to get yourself a good reputation here, hun. Though," and she turned to slink back to her table, a few last words escaping over her shoulder, "I'm sure you have the Brains to get out of the riskier situations." With that bit of tantalizing bait left in the air she flipped her hair behind a shoulder and headed for her work table. Ooc. YAY FOR REVIVED FORFUNS? ;
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breloom
Full Member
Wild SHOJOSPRIT appeared!
Posts: 193
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Post by breloom on May 16, 2009 18:51:46 GMT -5
“The hell’re you doin’ here? Thorton, watch where the hell you’re going, dumbass! Now get outta my damn way!” Paul screeched.
Thorton had, as expected, ended up with his back to the carpeted, spectricolor floor. Thus accomplished, Paul felt the need to very nearly kick him in the jaw before realizing what a stupid move that would have been - who in their right mind (not saying Paul was in his right mind, but...) would kick anyone on their side, much less someone in Thorton's position?
Paul probably would have found great pleasure in kicking him in the jaw, actually.
Realizing this with a start, Thorton's mind quickly set to work devising a plan to escape Paul's clutches. It needn't have bothered, however; Paul practically hopped over his body and began charging at full speed back into the mess of people.
"Probably lost Damion,"[/color] grunted Thorton wearily as he got up. "Not surprised."
With this thought, he shook his head (not too violently, so as not to further disrupt his already-destroyed bird!hair)and attempted to ignore the mass of people who had been attracted by Paul's barfing of rainbows. Strolling away calmly as if he had no involvement in the spectacle, Thorton brushed some of the dirt off of his outfit (honestly, that floor had more dirt than fibers) as he looked around the packed casino, searching for Damion.
Paul was probably too busy thinking up curses in different languages to bother doing his job.
Finally, Thorton caught sight of the blond-haired youth that was the heir to the Brains, Damion Kurotsugu. He was talking to a brown-haired dealer before Paul called the aforementioned dealer ‘slutty’ and demanded Damion get out. Shaking his head, Thorton passed behind the new ruckus and slid into one of the seats that stood stationary in front of their own special slot machine.
Mhm, he had a fake ID. Your point?
In any case, Thorton sat down on the stool and simply examined the machine for a few minutes. There had to be some way to get past this thing; besides, he was running low on both funding and volumes of manga for when things got too slow around here. After scrutinizing it for a few seconds and ignoring the confused glances of half-conscious gamblers, Thorton finally did something and began to play. He was pretty sure he had this figured out.
The machine was barfing up coins in a matter of minutes. Thorton merely smiled and continued the game.
OutOFCtrl; Aren't I so smart? ;O
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