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Sanctum Aeternam::The Prince of Atlanta::IV. Enter the Keymaster, with Wisdom
Clortho
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In new york, atop the long condemned schandor hotel, Clortho was deep in meditation. Flanked by two stone demonhounds, he comuned with the will of GOZER. His mantra begain again, as a storm brewed in the night. He was seated on the edge, facing the selinium piller that had long been the center of his personal sanctuary.
"I stand in the eternal service of GOZER, GOZER the GOZARIAN, GOZER the TRAVELLER, GOZER the DESTRUCTOR. May the eternal WILL of GOZER clear away the evil of the world, and consecrate it in his name, that the WORD of GOZER be made clear to the frail mind of this form. This form, which houses that which I am, VINCE CLORTHO, keymaster of GOZER...."
a sharp bolt of lightening struck the center piller, and Clortho's eyes snapped open. Within Clortho's mind, words echoed, words in acient sumerian.
"Are you certain, my lord GOZER?"
more words.
"Very well, my lord GOZER. May your WILL be done."
several days later....
He emerged from a private railway car, garbed in his typical black, and covered with the image of a young dilitant, into the train station in Atlanta. Georgia, of all places why Georgia? He thought absently, as the train pulled away. The things I bear for the WILL of GOZER
After the quick use of a payphone, to make reservations at a local hotel, and a call to a taxi company, to arrange a ride, Clortho stepped out of the station, and glanced across the street. How odd, two bus stops side by side. Whoever thought that up was probably insane. Garbed in a black bodysuit, and sitting, looking rather perturbed, at one of the stops was a familiar, and quite attractive, young woman.
The taxi won't be here for another fifteen minutes. Might as well go renew aquaintences. He crossed the street, still wearing his dilitant image. Clortho aproches her, keeping a safe distance, and leaning against the metal frame of the bus stop.
"You are Theda?"
Edited by: NeuroMortis at: 8/14/01 4:50:06 pm
Theda
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Faint music from tiny headphones dangling from her ears:
"...so you think you can stone me
and spit into my eye?
So you think you can love me
and leave me to diiiie?
Ohhhh baby
Can't do this to me baby
Just gotta get out
Just gotta get right outta here.."
The perturbed look seems, in actuality, to be simply immersion into the music...there! The index finger on her right hand taps on every other downbeat!
The cord extends into a duffel bag, which her right arm rests upon. And just above her wrists and neckline, the tiny teeth of a zipper can be seen, as though this bodysuit were not the entirety of the 'esoteric' outfit...
..and she seems not to notice the new figure at all, continuing to stare off into the down the road in anticipation...
Edited by Theda at: 7/31/00 4:47:34 am
Clortho
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Clortho frowns, then smiles, beneath the image. If I know Theda....He raises his hand, preforms the Gozerite cross, and intones.
"May GOZER smile upon you."
he pauses for an instant, as the blessing has the expected effect.
Edited by Clortho at: 7/30/00 12:17:19 am
Theda
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Originally attempting to ignore the onlooker, used to the effects of her choice of garmentry, the blessing sees her clutch her duffelbag with both hands, snap her head about (a headphone popping loose and dangling), to confront the gentleman before her.
"...ohhhh no..."
The Freak.
" Lenin in his Mother's Sunday Dress, WHAT the hell do YOU want?!?"
Clortho
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Clortho nods to himself at the confirmation.
"Come now, Theda. No reason to let an unpleasent first impression become bad blood. I had my reasons, and you had yours, it's past. All in all, I'm glad you proved not to be HER."
He speaks the word distastefully, as though spiting something foul from his mouth.
"I was called here on bussiness. Imagine if you will, my suprise,"
Clortho gestures lazily at the train station across the street.
"at exiting yon station, only to find YOU here, in this suburb of the SLOR."
Clortho glances down the street, keeping a watch for his cab.
"It seems GOZER has conspired to throw us together again, colleage. I can't say I'm the happier for it, but I'm at least being civil. If you have not yet made arrangements for your stay, I'd be willing to extend the courtecy of puting mine at your disposal."
Edited by Clortho at: 7/30/00 1:05:26 am
Theda
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Pause.
Utterly devoid of expression, she looks down the street again.
"...to liiiive foreverrrr
Who wannts
to liiiive
Foreverrrrr....?"
The earpiece dangling free dangles upon her chest, hypnotic for more than one reason--
"...there's no chance for us
it's all decided for us
this world has only one sweet moment
set aside for uuuuus..."
"Ok, seriously, that's just wrong," she yanks the other 'phone out, stuffing the cords in her overstuffed bag.
Runs hands through raven hair, down over her face, pausing there, the lower eyelids pulled down by the weight of her hands as she observes 'New Improved Clortho.'
"Are you out of---"
MINUTEST of pauses to rephrase.
"Are you serious? You think I'm gonna (hands raise to form the universal sign for 'quote') "Team Up" with you because GOZER made you trot on over and pull your funky little mojo--not that the mojo is really all that bad, but I'm usually a bit more participatory and there's a REASON for that--and that's supposed to make me behave like most of the cornerwalkers who probably sit right HERE and spread for guys who don't know how to TALK to their wives let alone give them any sort of pleasure?
I got news for you--last time we met, I went out and spent THREE WEEKS on working on a LOCK to put on your little GATE that you have nasty habit of opening without invitation, and NO it's NOT (quotes again) " THE Gate," I didn't lie to you, I'm NOT freakin' Sigourney Weaver. And your little joy-buzzer only worked a little bit this time, so don't feel like I'm gonna smoke a cigarette with you, because a.) I don't smoke and b.) I didn't ASK."
Calmly shakes her hair out. Catches a mosquito mid-flight and tosses it away. Looks for the bus.
"I don't wanna seem like an itch-bay but folks who live in the movies and threaten to chainsaw people's faces off don't exactly impress me as the type I'd like to 'accept courtesy' at their disposal...are there any buses in this city, or does everyone travel like parameciums and just wait for the mosquitos to come along and pick them up?"
Edited by Theda at: 7/31/00 4:49:28 am
Clortho
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"As a matter of...."
Clortho pauses as he realizes that he would be the last one she would accept FACT from.
"all...."
Clortho pauses again as he realizes that he neither wants, nor is capable, of telling all.
"okay, TRUTH told,"
He pauses in satisfaction at having found one that works.
"I'm only acting on instructions. GOZER told me to come by train, GOZER told me to reserve two hotel rooms, and GOZER told me to offer one to the first person I saw upon exiting the station. Which,"
he leans forward slightly, as his tone changes to something a little less neutral, and a little more hostile.
"as you can likely envision, was very difficult to do in ancient sumerian."
He straightens up and returns to a more cordial tone.
"So you have two choices. You can either continue to wait for your bus, and get the vitae sucked out of you by the local soon-to-be-ghouled mosquito population.... -or- You can come with me, in the cab that I requested, which is just turning the corner now. You take the luxery suite that I had intended to use, and I make use of the economy room. We part ways in the lobby, and hopefully don't see each other for the rest of our respective stays. Your decision."
Clortho adopts a somewhat taller stance, and walks to the curb, as his taxi pulls up along the other side of the street. He turns back, glancing at her for a moment.
"I'd like you to cosider something."
Clortho lets that sink in.
"Remember, the FIRST time you ignored me, I caught your attention with a chainsaw. This, the SECOND time you've ignored me, I took pains to respond with something somewhat less dangerous, and that I KNOW you enjoy to a degree. I'd have thought that would be enough to make my good intentions clear."
Clortho returns to his facing and begins to cross, somewhat wary of the nonexistant oncoming traffic (being a new york native, streets with few cars being somehow WRONG.)
Edited by Clortho at: 7/30/00 2:24:11 pm
Theda
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Watching the source of useless vitae stroll awkwardly off...
"...always the crazies."
As he crosses, she returns to her music, fishing out the headphones, and her eyes stray to the schedule posted in the small plastic frame. Eyes narrowing, she digs further into the seemingly bottomless duffelbag, removing the cheap convenience-store watch. Back to the schedule.
Her head frozen, eyes flick to the wacko entering the cab, looking behind him up the road to ensure the door won't be taken off by the invisible cars he must be seeing--
She crams the watch, headphones back into the bag, zipping it quickly shut, springingto her feet and is halfway across the road when the sole vehicle that IS making its way down the street slams on its brakes with a squeal and horn.
She takes no notice.
"Hey--" searching for a name. "--GOZERBOY."
The driver of the halted Beemer has inhaled to shout choice words--and swallows the thought as he regards the shapely obstacle before him, heading for the cab.
Prentiss Shakes is a fast talking shyster who makes his money exploiting the stupid, weak and corrupt.
And most ladies dressed like that are at least two out of the three.
So it's no surprise when he leans forward, yelling out the passenger window:
"Yo, catwoman. Think that cab's got air conditioning?"
Clortho
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Clortho makes his way to the cab driver, and passes a few words to him before Theda's words reach him.
"I've got some luggage, so if you could pop the, excuse me."
He turns, calmly, having half expected as such. She had, after all, only had two options.
"Maybe now you'll trust a New Yorker's instincts when it comes to crossing a street. You where saying?"
Edited by Clortho at: 7/30/00 3:22:17 pm
Theda
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Two voices reach her at once.
She pivots sharply, her forward momentum taking her a few more steps as she slows, backwards.
Considering.
"Hey," Smiling, Shakes turns on the charm honed sharp as thousandfold Samurai steel. He pats the leather headrest of the passenger seat. Innocently, "...it's paid for."
A shrug.
"Come to think of it, EVERYTHING is paid for, wherever I go---it's the strangest thing."
Another shrug: It's up to you...
To Clortho, eyes still on the vehicle, softly:
"...not my type...but if you know how to drive..., you'd save on cab fare."
Edited by Theda at: 7/30/00 4:47:37 pm
Clortho
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Clortho shrugs slightly.
"I do. As I said, I'm acting under HIS instructions. He seems to want me to pay through the nose."
He extends a hand, somewhat unsure of what to do with it. I know I'm going to either be waving goodbye, or opening the door for her in a few seconds, might as well be prepared.
"I supose I can get a rental tomorrow. Both ways are free to you, Theda. One has ermin carpeting, a fireplace, indoor hot tub, and coplimentary minibar at the end of it. I'm not so sure about the other. Even if I could, I wouldn't press you into this. It is your choice,"
Edited by Clortho at: 7/30/00 9:17:25 pm
Siegfried Von Hauten
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The cab driver, a bulky and obviously non-native Georgian (Hispanic perhaps), places his one hand on the passenger's headrest, and pivots around. He pauses for a moment, uncertain of the coming events, but he seems patient; A virtue not oft seen in the bustling city of New York. The street nearly reaks of humidity: Without a second glance, one can see the steam rising off of the ebony surface, the sewer grates, and the exhaust pipes of what cars do traverse this road. People bustle around, inconspicious, a few couples dotted here and there talking amongst themselves. There are a few buildings around here that tower over most, but, for the most part, the buildings are double-floored at best, the archatecture remaniscent of the 60s. Some factories spew out their contents through gigantic pipes leading up from their brick structure, others have stopped for the night. There is a small gang across the street, harassing passerbyers with loud and lewd remarks and gestures in thick, native Georgian accents. This is the part of town that parents tell their kids to stay out of at night; an unfortunate turn of events, seeing that the train station is so close by. But civilization spurns civilization, and where there is civilization, there are dregs. A wind blows, but it doesn't help the matter: It simply draws more heat and humidity, causing many-a-head of a hair to fill with unwanted moisture. (Theda might be regretting her choice of clothing, as it no-doubt has gotten sticky and chaifi
Siegfried Von Hauten
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ooc/It cut off my description. Oh well, here's the rest. /ooc
Dark clouds loom overhead, and as if the humditiy weren't enough, they threaten to bring down torrents of rain. But, then again, they may help the matter. There is a bar next to the train station and across from the cab which bustles with activity, the low rumble of the base can be heard from inside of apparently loud (but muffled) music. There are also a few makeshift "appartments" (which, if one were so inclined, could be likened to slums) on the same side as the parked cab. If one were to travel farther uptown, the scenery would change dramatically, as the wealthier commertial and residential district would slowly overtake the industrial sector. The swealtering countryside awaits furthur travels elsewhere, which can almost be percieved beyond the smog and factory buildi
Wisdom
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Summer in Atlanta, out of school. Beautiful thing, like an oil painting, or a ballerina's lithe movements, or the first touch of a new lover.
Mike Wisdom, or Wisdom to everybody who's know him for more than the requisite five minutes, tooled his motorcycle down the local "strip". A jumbling of strip clubs, porno theaters, by-the-hour motels. Cheap sex vied with the humidity for being the top oppressive feature in the night air. Wisdom’s Georgia Tech letterman’s jacket flapped in the breeze, brightly colored patches proclaimed him a football player, though his build would have put the lie to that proclamation. A caduceus hung from an earring in his left ear, jangling quietly against the helmet.
Wisdom always preferred night...summer night to be exact. It had all the benefits of the day, namely it wasn't cold. It had all the benefits of the night, namely the atmosphere. Summer nights in a city seemed much like the nights from a Fox TV show. A set with a black velvet backdrop, making everything vivid, all the colors bright. Nights in the country seemed like a Stephen King movie, bleeding the color from the surrounding environment.
As he rode, he felt the rush of warm air over his skin, like the breath of Wendy when she held him close before she died. Wisdom never truly felt she was gone. The sense of loss had never come over him. Not even when he had spread her ashes.
Wisdom's Grandmother had died when he was 7. A kindly old woman, too nice to be considered fat. At her funeral, Wisdom had felt the loss of her, as if her spirit were ripped from him. Wendy didn't feel that way.
She was still with him, the rushing warm air over his skin.
Wisdom wasn't out riding for pleasure, though it was quite pleasurable. He wasn't riding for a specific destination, though he had a goal. He was on the road for knowledge. A knowledge of the others out there.
Wendy had said there were others before she died. She said other groups were fighting in the War. A war he was a soldier in without fully understanding the cause. A war he chose not to fight.
But there were those others out there, ones like him. And there were others out there that were very unlike him. Wisdom was looking for a vampire.
He didn't truly see the flickerbuzzhum of the gaudy neon lights. Girls Girls Girls, XXX All Day All the Time, Rooms Daily Weekly Monthly, and the plaintive Jesus Saves on the occaisional mission.
He saw the pulsing lifeweb of mortality around him. He saw the darkling crackle of that mortality, and morality, fading. And he was looking for one thing, the intersection of those two patterns in some balance, moving lifedeath.
He did have a purpose beyond finding the repositories of life and entropy. There was a man out there...a very bad man. Wisdom’s goal was to remove that badness and restore balance to Atlanta. Wendy would have approved of that, and Wisdom wasn't ready to begin disappointing his mentor, his lover, his friend.
Edited by Wisdom at: 7/31/00 3:57:27 am
Clortho
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Clortho checks his watch, and beneath the image his eyes go wide. She always did have a way of doing that to me.
"But make it quickly. I have things to which I must attend. I cannot waste much more time."
Wisdom
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Wisdom rode, eyes notseeing, flickering over the patterns around him. It was difficult at times, and caused some measure of a headache, the maintenence of a 360 degree radarsweep highlighting life and entropic patterns.
He cruised on further uptown, and neared the slums. The strip in Atlanta stuck out from the slums like a boil on the ass of the city. Bright lights became fewer and dimmer.
As he neared the Cemetary, he paused. He liked the aura of peace he felt on the edge of the Shadowlands, something seductive about the finality called to him.
He stopped the Harley and got off, tasting the night air where mortality now vied with humidity. A thin sheen of glistening sweat covered his brow. Riding is not effortless, despite the appearance. Wisdom could barely sense the veil between the land of the quick and the land of the dead.
After absorbing the night, he threw one leg astride the hawg and prepared to take off again when his headachey senses alerted him to not one, but two anomolies...entropylife in physical forms and matching the pattern he theorized would be personified in a vampire.
So taken aback at this, he forgot to breathe. Here was the seductive grail he had been questing for. Here was what he wanted. He turned his bike's handlebars so the headlight illuminated the man and woman by the taxi and pondered his next move.
"Wendy, it looks like I have found the promised land...so to speak. Now if only the natives don't kill me."
Edited by Wisdom at: 7/31/00 3:58:38 am
Theda
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Beemerboy observes the two--under his breath:
"C'mon babe, dump the schmuck. He's taking a CAB."
Then, aloud.
"C'mon babe, dump the schmuck. He's taking a CAB!"
Her head turns slowly to Clortho, mouthing "OOOOooooooo", then whistling between her teeth.
"Be afraid. Be very afraid."
She saunters to the passenger door, leaning forward, regretting not wearing the electric blue minidress that turns her sandwich into a grandwich when she leans forward like she's doing now.
"You gonna open the door like a gentleman?"
Snapping off the urge to tell her to get in the expletiving car, he simply chuckles and reaches forward, and she grabs his arm, yanking him from his seat, his belt catching and ripping his $700 Armani shirt, she turns his wrist palm up--in the wrong direction.
He is at her disposal.
"I'll ask you a simple question. If I go with you, would you consider that getting lucky?"
He's about to yell and she tugs ever-so-slightly, sparks flying in his vision as his body attempts to compensate and finds a new leather seat in his way. And the automatic stickshift. And a steering wheel. And a seat belt.
"Look at me."
He does.
"What do you want? Hmm?"
She places the twisting wreck of his hand on her chest.
"This? This is good?"
He's about to speak when she tweaks him again.
" OWWWMOTHERF--"
Her other hand flicks out, tapping his Adam's apple and effectively silencing him, save for the short, choked barks he vomits. She cocks her head slightly, blowing an errant lock of hair from her left eye.
"Give me your other hand."
He's about to become obscene. Tweak. The other hand is offered. It is placed, uncrimped, upon the other side of her chest.
"There. Better?"
Eyes filled with rage, he grips violently--but the surface of the material, coupled with the sweat his body produces under the duress, and the humidity, and his hand snaps shut without purchase like a foiled crab.
Theda regards him, shaking her head slightly.
"No," Softly. "I don't like it rough."
His wrist snaps. Twice.
"...and my name isn't 'catwoman.'"
A finger. Two.
"...and you WILL get lucky tonight."
Three. Four.
"...because I'm not going to give you what you deserve."
The thumb. Twice.
His mouth foaming now, gasping for air, his body contorted horribly and of its own accord as it tries to escape the pain, Prentiss Shakes is no longer the hotshot.
"First you run 'em down, then you pick 'em up."
Her free hand snaps off the right hand mirror.
"Then you pin 'em down, then you fill 'em up. Is that about right?"
She holds the mirror in front of his face.
"You a hotshot? Big guy? I bet you're a... lawyer, right? You drive the Official Badass Attorneymobile, don't you? Look. Look at yourself. Look."
He looks. While he does so, she turns to Clortho. Mouthing, overenunciating: ALMOST.
Back to whimperman:
"See, you're not so big. You're just like everyone else. You just have a bunch of paper that lets you put more useless things in the box you hide in at night. Okay? Look at me."
Rearview tossed in back seat. He looks.
"I hate this town. So far, the people here suck. Everyone I've met. Do me a favor--stay here, so when someone decides to wipe it off the face of the map, you'll go with it."
She releases him.
"And you've got a cell phone, so I know you can drive one handed. TTFN."
And with that, she returns, picking up her duffel bag, chucking it in the backseat of the cab, climbing in after it. She shuts the door behind, looking out at Clortho while reaching around behind her back.
"Take the front--I gotta change..."
She turns, digging in the everfull duffelbag...and without missing a beat, to the driver:
"We draw attention to ourselves because you can't keep your eyes on the road and it will not be a good night for you..."
Edited by Theda at: 7/31/00 2:24:46 pm
Wisdom
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Wisdom watched the exchange, noting clinically, the damage done to the man's hand, and running through a list of treatment procedures.
Then the two vampires, entropylife embodied, got into the cab. Wisdom considered briefly, then put on his helmet, preparing to follow them, mentally kicking common sense to the curb.
Siegfried Von Hauten
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The cab driver watches, his eyes widenning the smallest bit. He is jaded, but not so that the course of events doesn't make him weak in the stomach in the slightest bit. As Theda speaks to him, he flinches, and returns to the steering wheel.
"Where to?" The words come out in a Hispanic accent, confirming any suspicions on his ethnicity.
The small gang across the street has caught full attention while watching the girl humiliate and nearly incapitate the man in the beamer. They laugh and cheer Theda on. One of them begins to walk over to the cab, a big grin spread across his face.
The man in the beamer curses angrily and watches Theda, a timid expression. He winces as he positions his arm, and cries out as he rests it as gently as he can on the windowsil. He then slams on the gas-petal and floors it out of the area, probably to the nearest hospital, not heeding Theda in the slightest. He doesn't look back.
Theda
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Noting the approaching homey without a glance, peeling the upper half of her 'sun-suit' down, dousing herself liberally about her exposed chest with powder, then rolling on the electric blue tank top of the usual material that stops at her midriff and tuck-and-tug-and-push-and-done--all within a practiced matter of moments.
"Are we going to sit here and entertain the locals or what?"
She disappears from view of the rear-view, on her back, and behind the seat the obvious conclusion of the process takes place just as smoothly, the facsimile of 'biking shorts' in place without a hitch as a small cloud of baby powder fills the back of the cab. She pops back into view, several bobby pins held tightly between clenched teeth.
"You want me to fmack you or what? You need permiffion to GO?"
The bobby pins plucked 1-2-3-4-5, popped into key positions as she winds her hair atop her head. As she places it, her head dips out of sight once again, then arises--adorned with a wig to match the color of her outfit perfectly, cut stylishly just above the neckline, framing her features exquisitely, if not radically.
She shakes her head violently, assured it will not lose it's mooring, and zips her bag shut.
The whole process: 87 seconds.
Edited by Theda at: 7/31/00 5:52:20 pm
Siegfried Von Hauten
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Approaching at about the time when Theda removes her top, the gang-member's grin nearly splits his face. He looks back over his shoulder, and the rest of the gang cheers him on. A swagger in his step, he approaches the window.
As he comes into light, one can see his features are not that much older than Theda's apparent age. He looks like the youngest of the group, or at least from what one can see of them. He leans in, close to the rear view window, and belts out, loud enough to be heard through it, in a loud Georgian accent:
"You think you're tough s--t? Come on baby, lets go.. I can take you all... night... long."
The man-boy stresses his last three words with lewd hip gestures, and a laughter eminates from the gang as they watch in the distance.
The taxi driver sits, timid, and looks towards Theda, not sure whether to be afraid for her, or afraid OF her.
Wisdom
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Wisdom watched from his bike. He saw the unlifeentropy form of the woman get into the car and go through motions he could only assume were those of changing clothes.
Before she finished dressing, one of the gang members detached himself from the knot of those like him.
'Hmm...braver than the usual "cowardly, superstitous lot", aren't they Wendy?' Again, that warm breath caressing his face.
Wrapping his fingers into the flow of time around him, Wisdom sought to speed up the flexweavegive of temporal energies around him while popping some amphetimine pills from his pocket. Comfortable with the results, Wisdom's bike took off. As it did so, he hooked into the pattern of his own life form, toughening it. 'Amazing how tough a leather jacket is, ain't it? And a great thing I wore a vest.' Suddenly, the letterman's jacket transformed becoming a thick stereotypical jacket, and Wisdom felt the heavyness of a Kevlar vest encasing his frame.
He rushed his bike almost straight at the taxi, then weaved it to the right...the action seeming childishly slow to his accellerated perspective.
"Get out of here now lady. I'll hold them off." Wisdom fought to speak slowly, allowing his audience to hear his words at normal speed. He turned to face his opponents, shaking under his helmet and new-found leathers. And the warm breeze of the Atlanta night continued to hold him in it's embrace. Wendy approved.
Edited by Wisdom at: 7/31/00 7:37:30 pm
Clortho
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Before Theda begins her, as stated, task of changing, Clortho glances through the window, an obscure smile on his face.
"Nicely done. Good to know you haven't lost your edge."
Clortho straightens up, and walks toward the trunk. Though GOZER only knows why I'd be pleased by the fact.... He raps the trunk sharply, signeling the driver to open it. He continues his circle to the curb, where his two bags are waiting. He loads them in, pausing a moment to open one. He removes a worn sports bottle, and closes it. it seals with a hiss, and he slams the trunk shut. After a quick swig of chilled vitae from the bottle, he makes his way around to the front, and enters.
"I beleive you know the destination. Now, hit it! The meter's running."
Clortho's eyes flash red for a split second.
"ye-ye-yehes si-si-sir, m-m-mr. Sch-Sch-schandor!"
The onlookers had never seen a cab leave tire marks on the road before. The cab squelled that cry all too familiar to a new york ear, as it wore it's tires down to slicks, caught by the brake being aplied at the same time as the gas. It halts as Clortho reaches for the key, and calmly extracts it from the ignition.
Edited by Clortho at: 7/31/00 9:23:59 pm
Siegfried Von Hauten
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He takes in his figure, a quick glance surmizing him. Finally, he relaxes and grins confidently again, looking back at the others who watch transfixedly as the events unfold.
"You ruined my fun, prick."
And, without another word, the man-boy strikes forward at Wisdom with a balled fist.
Theda
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"It must be something in the water here. It's gotta be something in the water. EVERYBODY is a TOTAL IDIOT."
Taking in the driver, the homeboy outside, the dude on the bike--
"Who the hell is this?"
Edited by Theda at: 7/31/00 10:51:15 pm
Wisdom
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"Ma'amNahInntZatlyThaTimeFuhInruducsions."
Wisdom's words blurred together as he moved to dodge the blow. His movements were quick but undisciplined.
"ButAhDoBelieveTheseGentlemenAhrIntentAhnDoingYuhselfBahdilyHahrm."
Wisdom sprang from his bike, after taking the time to put down the kickstand, and was weaving among them.
"MuhNaimzWizdum. MaikulWizdum. ARealPleasuhTuhMaikYuhrAquaintence."
Theda
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Brushes a lock of blue hair from her cheek.
"Did everyone go Malk all of a sudden...or is it just me?"
Siegfried Von Hauten
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It seems that the stranger moves with speed faster than his reflexes. He looks towards the rest of the gang again for encouragement, but sees only bewildered silence. He himself falls silent, and steps back.
"Damn boy, you got some MOVES."
He watches Wisdom warily, and then breaks into smile.
"It's all good, right?"
He eyes the rest of the group with a poorly-concealed nervous glance and a shattered ego.
Wisdom
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Wisdom caught the woman vampire's words on the edge of his consciousness the gangbanger was his immediate concern. He started imitating every martial arts movie he's ever seen. Sometimes good excuses present themselves.
"Drunken Monkey Kung Fu, Gangyboy. Or is that Drunken Monkey, you fool?"
Still whirling.
"I don't know about 'Malk' but I think our no-so-friendly neighberhood menace is learning that there is no shame when you're outmatched."
Dashing between the ganger and the exotic woman, Wisdom plants himself, assuming the best fighting stance he can muster. Imitating the Matrix, he beckons the ganger with one hand.
"Azzzzzaaaahhh!," is his mock kiai.
Clortho
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Clortho looks through the windows at the scene of combat, and his face, even through the mask, contorts into a visage filled with loathing.
"That embodies everything I hate about the human race. It is clear now,as ever, why this world must be destroyed."
Clortho pulls his eyes from the sight, and places his left hand on the cabdriver's neck. as the cabbie looks to him with fright, he turns the cabbie's face into the wheel well, at the pedels. He gestures at the cabbie's left foot, which is still flooring the brake in terror.
"That,"
Clortho jabs one finger at the cabbie's left foot, the cabbie shys away, as though it where a claw.
"I beleive, is the brake. And that,"
he jabs his finger at the other foot, and the cabbie shys away again, somewhat less agressively.
"is the gas. Do you think you can keep that straight?"
"N-N-Nho s-s-sir m-m-mr. Sch-Sch-Schandor."
Clortho sighs at this, and speaks wearily.
"Fine then."
He calmly unbuckles the cabbie's seatbelt, and wrests him across the front seat. He slams the cabbie's head soundly against the plexiglass once, and slides over to the wheel.
"I'll drive."
Theda
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Observing the back of the hack’s head striking the Plexiglas shield, eyes narrowing, a few disconcerted blinks.
“Let me see if I can get this right…instead of driving a nice, dark, comfortable, probably fast and very good looking sports car, we’re going to choose a smelly, dusty, old and very public bright yellow vehicle that has numbers on the side.”
Nods.
“Ok. But wait, there’s more! You ALSO get a DRIVER who JUST GOT TO THE CITY, who hears a voice in his head from a science fiction comedy MOVIE and actually OBEYS it.”
Opens duffelbag. Digs a moment.
“And, if you act fast, we’ll throw in a superhero,” glancing out at the back of the man in the leather jacket. “who’s hopped up on speed and sounds like Forrest Gump.”
Places headphones in ears.
“’Go to Atlanta, Theda. You’ll like it there. They’ve got the Olym-piiics, they’ve got pea-nuuuts, they’ve got country muuu-siiic, and the CITY, OH, my GOSH, it’s BYOOtiful at night…”
Turns the volume up, depressing the Extended Dynamic Bass Sound button:
”Steve walks warily down the street with his brim pulled way down low
Aint no sound but the sound of his feet, machine guns ready to go
Are you ready, HEY, are you ready for this
Are you hanging on the edge of your seat
Outta the doorway the bullets rip, repeating to the sound of he beat, look out!
(thump thump thump)
Another one bites the dust…”
Glancing out he window again, she sighs. To herself:
“ Kine……Gee, what a challenge.”
Edited by Theda at: 8/1/00 1:46:16 pm
Siegfried Von Hauten
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He takes in the scene.
..
..
He pauses. A small smile creeps up onto his face.
And then the loudest obscenity you have ever heard bellows from deep inside of him.
"S--------------------t, boy. You f--ked in the head!"
The gangmember laughs, keeling over. He can barely speak between gasping for air, he is laughing so hard.
"Damn, boy...!"
He turns around, his laughing subsided into small chuckles. The rest of the gang watches him with amused smiles on their faces. He shouts across, boldly, in a seeming disrespect for authority figures.
"No luck. Lets just go shoot up."
Another voice returns.
"We all out."
The gangmember frowns, his hands creasing his denim-jacket. He rubs a dirty hand across his nose, and then shrugs.
"Shit. Aight, lets go see Yallin then."
Theda
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The back door of the cab stands open.
The woman in blue, shouldering a duffelbag, headphones in ears and Discman in hand, screaming, kicks the door closed.
“Whattayamean, ‘no?!?’ EVERYBODY knows where to get a DIME! LOOK!! LOOK AT THIS!!”
A fistful of cash is brandished in before the passenger window.
“But hey, you don’t take CASH in AMERICA, that’s fine with me. You wanna go back to your Seven Eleven and pull SLURPEES all your life, HEY, have a Boutros Boutros Ghali day!”
Another kick. The door caves in.
“But I’m gonna find SOMEONE who’s got CO-HONEES enough to SCORE, hear me, hay-say?”
She spins, blowing hair out of her eye, starts walking and realizes she’s being observed.
“Asshead piece of…. what?!?”
To the gawpers.
“You want an AUTOGRAPH or something?”
Edited by Theda at: 8/1/00 5:18:06 pm
Wisdom
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The ganger, satisfied at what he felt was a partial victory, headed off with his gang. Two steps later, he dropped to the ground, holding his abdomen. A moan, like that of a wounded yak, escaped his lips. His face was paler than the two unliving people behind him. Seconds later, the air was filled with the stench of human waste.
Wisdom leaned over the fetal-balled-up kid, as he writhed in pain.
"I guess you should watch what you eat. Burritos are bad for you after a nice full pipe of crack, aren't they?"
A wicked smile nearly split Wisdom's face it two. Wisdom thought to himself, 'Questioning this guy should be easy now.'
He looked up at the group of slightly nauseous of gangerboys and his already wide, malicious grin was even wider.
"Now, who want's burritos?", he asked, laughing gently.
Edited by Wisdom at: 8/1/00 6:38:19 pm
Clortho
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At the name Yallin, Clortho's mask flickers. That name, GOZER's comand... I obey. He restores his control, exits the cab calmly, and looks to the boy. He tucks the cab keys into his pocket, and aproches the ganger.
The boy colapses in pain (ala wisdom). Clortho stands over the ailing figure. Weak of spirit, weak of flesh. The boy moans. Clortho sighs inwardly. This world has no hope of ever being redeemed.
"You will tell me of this Yallin."
Siegfried Von Hauten
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It was all going so good.
He looked like quite the badass, impressing his friends... and then...
His stomach realed. He grimaced and moaned as he felt his bowels unable to contain their contents.
His face contorts as he feels his pants dampen and then flood. Red rushes to his face, and he collapses, stomach up, his fetal position giving way to a position of utter defeat.
"Shheeeeeeit man..."
That is all that can escape his lips. He looks up at Wisdom as he crouches over him, his grin broad and devilish. Another wave overtakes him... He can feel his pants soak through with vile material that he would rather not consider at the moment. At that point, Clortho approachs him. This can't be happening, it's like a bad dream... He looks over to the gang for support. Nothing. Again, he returns his gaze to the man, whose profile highlights the rays of the moon between the various and billowy clouds in the sky that threaten a downpour of rain. For a brief instant he considers not saying anything. He quickly reconsiders this.
"Yo.. Man... he's just one of the ... uggh.." Another wave overtakes him, and he spasms as more excriment than he knew existed in his body is purged. "He deals- high level shit too. Gives me my stuff and I give it on, y'know?"
The man-boy's face contorts, and he tries to stand up, but another wave of nausea and bowel pains take him over again.
He looks over for help from the rest of the gang.
They are nowhere to be found.
Clortho
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Clortho tilts his head for a moment, considering the wretch. He then squats down to the boy's level and closes his hand about the back of the boy's head, drawing it to his mouth. He wispers in the boy's ear.
"You have given me an awnser. I am well pleased with this, and those that please me please GOZER. Because this pleases me, I'm going to do you a favor. I'm going to let you live in that hideous pussbag you call a body,"
Clortho removes his hand, and stands.
"and I'm going to let you finish your existance as the utter and complete subcreature you are. And when GOZER comes, he will show you mercy."
Clortho walks back to the cab, extracting a highway map from beneath his mask. He calmly sets the map beside him, and pulls out the keys.
The engine sputters to life, and Clortho rolls down his window. He pokes his head out the window, and calls to the night, knowing full well who would overhear.
"IF anyone would care to come along, you have precisely two minutes before this care moves."
Theda
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She crouches bear to him, making sure her assets are fully disposed to his view. Whispering:
"I am sooo sorry this happened...I don't know who--or why you had to get involved. The jerk in the car had it coming, but you--"
She takes his hand. Even lower, whispering:
"I'm only with these guys because I told them I knew where to get a fix--and I'm new here, and I got no place to go--"
She weeps.
"Please, I know this sucks, I know you don't know me, I know I'm probably just another skank to you, but I got a little girl--I gotta get home--and these guys're looking to dump in a really big way with the locals and I swe-he-hear, I d-don't know where they can go and they're crazy..."
She puts her face on his shoulder.
"I'm so sorry...please...just tell me who I can talk to, where I can go, who I can see...anyone--please...they'll kill me...please..."
She lifts her eyes, face streaked with tears...and meets his gaze with all her ability to bend a human heart to the needs that prevail...
(From the squeeze bottle she's palmed and utilized when she hid her face...)
Edited by Theda at: 8/2/00 12:40:20 am
Siegfried Von Hauten
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his confidence is shot, and he looks at Theda, a bewildered expression on his face. He shuffles upward, the large quantities of crap in his pants sloshing about in a rather disgusting manner, he immediately regrets it. He looks at Theda, pausing for a moment.
"Damn, it's alright... Hey," smiles conspiratorially, "wanna go somewhere more private? I can take good care of ya."
He stands up, and shit dribbles down his pant leg, causing him to squint. A line of obscenities emit from his throat, and he looks at Theda, his face turning beat red.
Theda
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She smile/chokes, glancing terrfied over her shoulder. Looks back to the stricken warrior, brushing sweat-slick hair from his forehead, wincing with him as he attempts to sit but cannot due to agony. She sobs, wiping her nose.
"I--I can't right now...they--"
The engine growls out of the silence, consuming the earspace.
Quote:
"IF anyone would care to come along, you have precisely two minutes before this care moves."
Sobbing outwardly.
"ohmiGodmybaby"
She darts her eyes to the cab, to the man in leather, to the gangsta. Frantic whisper:
"Pleasepleasepleasetellmewhere- here--"
A familiar consistency pressed into his palm.
"It's a Cee--it's all I got on me, but I-I can find more. PLease, just tell me who to see, even just a corner, even just someone who knows someone--"
Doubled over in grief.
"...pleeeease..."
The horn honks, startling another rictus of agony from her piteous-perfect face...
Siegfried Von Hauten
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He nods, the last of the s--t dribbling out of his pants.
"Listen, hey... Stop that.." He moves to comfort Theda, but stops short: He doesn't think his "mojo" is very effective with remnants of crap dribbling from his pant-leg. So instead...
"Hey, if you want, I can take you to Yallin later, after I change my .. uh.. pants. We can chill some time, right? Here..." He ruffles through his pant-o-crap, and removes a crap-covered wallet. (Evidently it soaked through.) He quickly pulls out a note with a scribbled address on it. It is to a Mariot in Uptown Atlanta.
"This is where he is, aight? And... Uh.. My number's on the bottom, so when I get a new shipment, we can chill, right? And I'll give you some free."
The gangmember smiles; he is not unattractive, but the current circumstance puts him very low on the social totem-poll. He begins to grow anxious, as the crap congeals in little blots in his pantleg. Secretly, he hopes that this little meeting ends soon, so he can slowly repair his very, VERY damaged reputation with the street level thugs.
Wisdom
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Wisdom looked on, slightly confused. He knew the woman was a vampire. He was pretty sure that vampires didn't have babies. However, here she was, giving a pretty good show, and her cleavage was giving him a great show.
He shrugged and put on his helmet, throwing one leg astride his bike, resolving to follow the two undeads. The Rick Moranis throwback seemed to recognize the name Yallin. Hopefully, he would be able to follow them and find out more information.
Watching her, the felt there was more than one reason.
'Hmmmmm,' he thought. 'I wonder if vampires ever get horny.'
Theda
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Sobs choke in her throat.
"Oh...oh...ohmiGod!"
She clutches the note, gripping his hand.
"I...I... thank you...thank you!"
The horn blares. She starts, straightening herself out, wiping her eyes.
"I won't forget--you've saved my daughter--I...I won't forget you!"
She moves as if to go, then returns, kissing his forehead. Then turns, collecting her bag, and heads off to the cab, which swallows her.
Settling in. To Clortho:
"Kiss a guy covered in his own sludge and he'll give you the world. Typical."
The address is tossed into the front of the cab.
"Marriott. 7th Avenue. Go."
And she removes a bottle of Jessica McClintock and spray her face, drowning out the smell of a desperate man's spoor.
Siegfried Von Hauten
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ooc/Perhaps a new thread would be good, since everyones heading into another area. /ooc
Clortho
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Clortho brought the back of his hand down on the cabbie's skull for the third time. Stay under, damn it! what I wouldn't give for a good ether rag right about now. As the cabbie flailed about in his renewed decent into uncontiousness, he -AGAIN- smacked the horn.
Theda entered as the cabbie went under again.
Clortho hits the gas, and the car speeds off reasonably fast, even as Clortho shakes open the atlanta map, places it on the cabbie's immobile stomach, and traces his intended path with one hand, while guiding the cab with the other. A sarcastic grin crosses his face, as his image shifts slightly, to that of an older chauffer.
"As you wish, Madame."
Edited by Clortho at: 8/2/00 1:29:19 am
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