Home
SISTER SITES AND DIRECTORIES
Latest topics
Who is online?
In total there are 19 users online :: 0 Registered, 0 Hidden and 19 Guests None
Most users ever online was 168 on Wed May 15, 2019 6:08 am
Statistics
We have 228 registered usersThe newest registered user is Azazel
Our users have posted a total of 5316 messages in 1471 subjects
OUR AFFILIATION BUTTON
AFFILIATES
Dead End Friends [Blank/Lazarus]
2 posters
Deus Mortuus :: THE REAL WORLD :: LONDON
Page 1 of 1
Dead End Friends [Blank/Lazarus]
by Lazarus Carter Tue Jul 16, 2013 10:06 pm
12:03PM
FEBRUARY 5TH, 2012
APARTMENT 13
THIRD FLOOR
135 BRIGHTON ROAD
SOUTH LONDON
Silence came from the bed as it had for hours prior.
Then in that moment, the unkempt, redhead figure, garbed in only his own underwear, stirred atop the covers and unleashed a cry to rival that of a banshee. "NGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH." His head, oh God, his head. The last time Laz remembered having a hangover like this was a couple of months ago, New Year's Day, when he'd woken up in a strange hotel room, the Italian sleeping on - apparently his - couch, with no recollection of coming home, and, a foreign butterfly knife on his nightstand.
It seemed that going down the River Lodge the night before had been... well, as always, a brilliant idea, but one that gave his consciousness no respite, with the dull thud in his ears - one of which still felt blocked, as if it had popped from the pressure of being slept on for nine hours - leading only into a headache to rival all other headaches. Ah, lager. Now he remembered why he cursed every brewer in the world the morning after the night before. "NGHHHH." He persisted. No-one stirred in the other rooms; so either Yuuko felt no sympathy towards him - possible - or she'd gone out to do something 'useful' to avoid exactly this - probable.
It was a further fifteen minutes before Lazarus wrenched himself from the covers and into the main room, looking exactly like he'd been dragged through a hedge backwards. It wasn't long before the stumbling, meandering, zombie-like teen found his way into the kitchen, arms forwards as he squinted out his path beyond, trying not to let the full brunt of daylight hit him yet, and somehow made his way to the kettle, slamming down the switch on the hilt as the water began to slowly - oh so slowly - glow and heat within.
A mug, two spoonfuls of tiny brown granules, and what felt like an eternity's wait later, the kettle began to emit glorious wisps of heated steam, and Lazarus stumbled back over, flicking it off, and poured the boiled water down into his cup with a sigh of relief. The elixir of the gods. The platonic and inanimate love of his life. The bane of those with high blood pressure. Coffee. A drop of cold water to stop him from scalding his tongue when he immediately tried to sip it out of impatience - as he always did - and the mixture was complete. And thus, he organised a coaster on their humble coffee table, set down the mug, and sighed, letting his head fall back against the upper cushion of the couch.
Then came the inevitable reach from the couch towards the TV remote, which was, at first, too far from his seated position to reach, so Lazarus momentarily opened and shut his hand incompetently, hoping some sort of divine intervention would telekinetically move it into his grasp, but there was no such luck. Instead, with another hungover groan, he reached forwards and actually picked it up, fiddling with a few buttons til the screen burst into life. "...kick-off for the match is at four this afternoon at Stamford Bridge, and should prove to be one of the most explosive matches of the season..."
BZZZZZZZZZZZT.
The loud, though-stifled noise of the doorbell struck the entire apartment, and as Lazarus had all-too-well forgotten, was infact piercingly strong, and caused the lesser of will within the domicile to begin writhing in pain upon the floor. However, the redhead's tempered, albeit hungover, attitude simply caused him to spill his boiling coffee mid-drink, jerking forwards from absolute surprise, most of it missing anything important and just landing on the floor, but a large, brown, liquid, steaming droplet landed upon his bare thigh with a nonchalant splat.
The reaction was mostly comical as the teenager opened his mouth and huffed in pain, but knew if he so much as tossed the cup aside it would only prove more catastrophic. A cold hand towel pressed against the burn later, and Laz was stubbornly, and awkwardly, walking in just his boxer shorts towards the door, already scowling as he pulled down the latch and wrenched it open, unleashing a snarl and a glare to rival that of an angry lion. "What?"
FEBRUARY 5TH, 2012
APARTMENT 13
THIRD FLOOR
135 BRIGHTON ROAD
SOUTH LONDON
Silence came from the bed as it had for hours prior.
Then in that moment, the unkempt, redhead figure, garbed in only his own underwear, stirred atop the covers and unleashed a cry to rival that of a banshee. "NGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH." His head, oh God, his head. The last time Laz remembered having a hangover like this was a couple of months ago, New Year's Day, when he'd woken up in a strange hotel room, the Italian sleeping on - apparently his - couch, with no recollection of coming home, and, a foreign butterfly knife on his nightstand.
It seemed that going down the River Lodge the night before had been... well, as always, a brilliant idea, but one that gave his consciousness no respite, with the dull thud in his ears - one of which still felt blocked, as if it had popped from the pressure of being slept on for nine hours - leading only into a headache to rival all other headaches. Ah, lager. Now he remembered why he cursed every brewer in the world the morning after the night before. "NGHHHH." He persisted. No-one stirred in the other rooms; so either Yuuko felt no sympathy towards him - possible - or she'd gone out to do something 'useful' to avoid exactly this - probable.
It was a further fifteen minutes before Lazarus wrenched himself from the covers and into the main room, looking exactly like he'd been dragged through a hedge backwards. It wasn't long before the stumbling, meandering, zombie-like teen found his way into the kitchen, arms forwards as he squinted out his path beyond, trying not to let the full brunt of daylight hit him yet, and somehow made his way to the kettle, slamming down the switch on the hilt as the water began to slowly - oh so slowly - glow and heat within.
A mug, two spoonfuls of tiny brown granules, and what felt like an eternity's wait later, the kettle began to emit glorious wisps of heated steam, and Lazarus stumbled back over, flicking it off, and poured the boiled water down into his cup with a sigh of relief. The elixir of the gods. The platonic and inanimate love of his life. The bane of those with high blood pressure. Coffee. A drop of cold water to stop him from scalding his tongue when he immediately tried to sip it out of impatience - as he always did - and the mixture was complete. And thus, he organised a coaster on their humble coffee table, set down the mug, and sighed, letting his head fall back against the upper cushion of the couch.
Then came the inevitable reach from the couch towards the TV remote, which was, at first, too far from his seated position to reach, so Lazarus momentarily opened and shut his hand incompetently, hoping some sort of divine intervention would telekinetically move it into his grasp, but there was no such luck. Instead, with another hungover groan, he reached forwards and actually picked it up, fiddling with a few buttons til the screen burst into life. "...kick-off for the match is at four this afternoon at Stamford Bridge, and should prove to be one of the most explosive matches of the season..."
BZZZZZZZZZZZT.
The loud, though-stifled noise of the doorbell struck the entire apartment, and as Lazarus had all-too-well forgotten, was infact piercingly strong, and caused the lesser of will within the domicile to begin writhing in pain upon the floor. However, the redhead's tempered, albeit hungover, attitude simply caused him to spill his boiling coffee mid-drink, jerking forwards from absolute surprise, most of it missing anything important and just landing on the floor, but a large, brown, liquid, steaming droplet landed upon his bare thigh with a nonchalant splat.
The reaction was mostly comical as the teenager opened his mouth and huffed in pain, but knew if he so much as tossed the cup aside it would only prove more catastrophic. A cold hand towel pressed against the burn later, and Laz was stubbornly, and awkwardly, walking in just his boxer shorts towards the door, already scowling as he pulled down the latch and wrenched it open, unleashing a snarl and a glare to rival that of an angry lion. "What?"
Lazarus Carter- RISING CRESCENDO
(Founder) - Posts : 979
Join date : 2013-04-18
Age : 28
Location : Washington D.C. or London
Case File
Power Level: 3
Character Faction: Nephilim
Player: Ross -
Re: Dead End Friends [Blank/Lazarus]
by Blank Edwards Tue Jul 16, 2013 10:54 pm
Blank had spent his morning doing some very essential research and had so far come up somewhat short. His father's sources had given him a pretty good list of who was active in the U.K and where (because there weren't many crazy enough to LIVE in London, generally you slept somewhere further away from the tear in case of sleep murder). It seemed that whoever that Japanese girl was allied with was at least somewhat good at covering their tracks since he could find next to no information about them. Which gave him brief pause to smile, that probably meant they could survive pretty well. He'd been pondering rejoining his father's old group, but they were mostly middle aged working class guys in their late forties to early fifties and ever since George died they'd been operating worse and worse. Hunting was fine, tormenting was outside Blank's personal purview. He suspected that "Behemoth" would know them, though their continuing survival meant they hadn't encountered the bi-polar demon. At least she'd SEEMED Bi-polar.
Around 8AM he was doing his daily exercise routine. It took around an hour and it'd be nice to say he played some kickass workout music but he did it in absolute mechanical silence. Unless he was injured or otherwise indisposed he'd done the same series of exercises in scaling quantities since he could physically perform them. His dad had been a bastard but he'd accidentally given his son a mild addiction to physical conditioning. Brief breakfast, scrambled eggs because he hadn't done a complete shop yet. He had yet to wrap his mind around the idea he was staying here for a while so the house was fairly bare, only enough food for the next few meals. He brushed his teeth, made sure his hair was regulation (and yes, that was how he thought, and yes, we realise how disturbing that is). Confirming it was, he checked in his drawer for a better eye-patch. He was wearing a gauze one for sleeping simply because it stayed on easier. Finding a better black one, he looped it over his head in a practiced motion and slipped his mobilephone (pay-as-you-go, easy to dispose of), wallet (non-descript, two different fake IDs in it and forged credit cards) and keys (for the flat and a few 'decoys') into his jacket pocket.
Brighton Road was on the southside, Blank lived in Tottenham Hale so it took him a while to get to the right tube stop. Stepping off the platform and swiping his (also fraudlent) travel card, he began looking for the correct road and ignoring the stares/admirations depending on lifestyle choice he garnered as he went. He was pondering how best to introduce himself, he had a reasonable reputation amongst the Hunters of London but he only knew a few because of his father, which made introductions awkward. He hadn't encountered any in Inferis during his scheduled checks so he wondered if they were still active. Should he start with combat? Demonstrate how useful he'd be? No, that wasn't a socially acceptable action was it... he should hold back on that one. Maybe say his nickname first? Well, he wasn't just going to call himself Edwards, that set the tone wrong, somehow. He didn't enjoy being called Blank but it HAD sort of become his name, and Devil Eye was so much worse. He paused at the door, what was the apartment number? 13, right.
He debated picking the lock, it'd be a good way to get in without giving away his position and possibly-ALLY, jesus christ, Edwards, you want to be friends, stop thinking of Hitman tactics. Pressing his thumb into the buzzer, he left it for a few seconds and withdrew his thumb. He debated what to do next, thumb resting on his chin, he wasn't sure how long to wait. It was midday after all, he could be at work or in Inferis or a number of things. He frowned, maybe this was a fools errand, maybe he should have come back later. But he heard the thump of steps and a rattle of locks before he saw the face of a thoroughly hungover, red-haired man glaring at him with great fury.
"What?"
"Bacon is supposed to fix hangovers"Blank noted, a useful observation at any other time, not fantastic at the moment "Are you a Hunter?" subtext was one of the few social cues Blank COULD handle (sometimes) because Hunters don't often like talking to non-hunters about hunting so it's important they don't catch on. Admittedly, this wasn't subtle but it had deniability. And hopefully the olive green coat, eye-patch and dark trousers didn't look too Rambo/James Bond villain esque that he'd get the door slammed in his face.
Around 8AM he was doing his daily exercise routine. It took around an hour and it'd be nice to say he played some kickass workout music but he did it in absolute mechanical silence. Unless he was injured or otherwise indisposed he'd done the same series of exercises in scaling quantities since he could physically perform them. His dad had been a bastard but he'd accidentally given his son a mild addiction to physical conditioning. Brief breakfast, scrambled eggs because he hadn't done a complete shop yet. He had yet to wrap his mind around the idea he was staying here for a while so the house was fairly bare, only enough food for the next few meals. He brushed his teeth, made sure his hair was regulation (and yes, that was how he thought, and yes, we realise how disturbing that is). Confirming it was, he checked in his drawer for a better eye-patch. He was wearing a gauze one for sleeping simply because it stayed on easier. Finding a better black one, he looped it over his head in a practiced motion and slipped his mobilephone (pay-as-you-go, easy to dispose of), wallet (non-descript, two different fake IDs in it and forged credit cards) and keys (for the flat and a few 'decoys') into his jacket pocket.
Brighton Road was on the southside, Blank lived in Tottenham Hale so it took him a while to get to the right tube stop. Stepping off the platform and swiping his (also fraudlent) travel card, he began looking for the correct road and ignoring the stares/admirations depending on lifestyle choice he garnered as he went. He was pondering how best to introduce himself, he had a reasonable reputation amongst the Hunters of London but he only knew a few because of his father, which made introductions awkward. He hadn't encountered any in Inferis during his scheduled checks so he wondered if they were still active. Should he start with combat? Demonstrate how useful he'd be? No, that wasn't a socially acceptable action was it... he should hold back on that one. Maybe say his nickname first? Well, he wasn't just going to call himself Edwards, that set the tone wrong, somehow. He didn't enjoy being called Blank but it HAD sort of become his name, and Devil Eye was so much worse. He paused at the door, what was the apartment number? 13, right.
He debated picking the lock, it'd be a good way to get in without giving away his position and possibly-ALLY, jesus christ, Edwards, you want to be friends, stop thinking of Hitman tactics. Pressing his thumb into the buzzer, he left it for a few seconds and withdrew his thumb. He debated what to do next, thumb resting on his chin, he wasn't sure how long to wait. It was midday after all, he could be at work or in Inferis or a number of things. He frowned, maybe this was a fools errand, maybe he should have come back later. But he heard the thump of steps and a rattle of locks before he saw the face of a thoroughly hungover, red-haired man glaring at him with great fury.
"What?"
"Bacon is supposed to fix hangovers"Blank noted, a useful observation at any other time, not fantastic at the moment "Are you a Hunter?" subtext was one of the few social cues Blank COULD handle (sometimes) because Hunters don't often like talking to non-hunters about hunting so it's important they don't catch on. Admittedly, this wasn't subtle but it had deniability. And hopefully the olive green coat, eye-patch and dark trousers didn't look too Rambo/James Bond villain esque that he'd get the door slammed in his face.
Blank Edwards- DEVIL'S EYE
- Posts : 44
Join date : 2013-06-30
Location : Fukushima, Japan
Case File
Power Level: 1
Character Faction: Freelance
Player: Breeze
Re: Dead End Friends [Blank/Lazarus]
by Lazarus Carter Wed Jul 17, 2013 2:44 am
"Bacon is supposed to fix hangovers."
Well, no shit. "Yeah, and if you'd like to go down to the store and get me some, that'd be great." The redhead snapped back; in his current state, burnt, hungover, undressed, and unshowered, he'd have to later be forgiven for not being particularly sociable in his current state. "If not, you can get on with it." Irritably, the Hunter finished and scowled at this individual on his doorstep.
It was only then that he took the time to analyse him. A few inches shorter than he, but still dead over six foot; blonde hair, neatly styled - with what was left of it, anyway, as opposed to his scarlet mop - and a build bulkier than his, but he'd wager, more or less as fit. And yet he'd almost ignored the most significant aspect of this particular man's appearance - who in himself couldn't have been much older than the American - which was, infact, a small black patch drawn over the right socket. "Are you a Hunter?"
Lazarus arched an eyebrow and almost felt his heart skip a beat. Sticking his head through the frame, he took a double-take from one side to the other - and, thankfully, it appeared there were no unwitting ears about, no cleaners or such, and the hungover scowl, now aggravated, only increased in intensity. "Are you right in the head?" Came the low growl from his throat; many had often asked the teen himself if he was sane, after performing either particularly daring and/or stupid (usually the latter) acts in general public, but this was something else.
Clearly, this had been the one Yuuko had told him about. Though he had no way of recognition, determining whether he was a Templar or Ritualist simply "investigating"; though the former would be considerably more subtle, and the latter would probably kill him irrespective of his answer. "I mean, what part of you would possibly think, "Let's talk about previously-established underground secrets on this stranger's doorstep!", or "Let's talk about my age-old holy genealogy to someone at random!"" Though, at this point, he imagined he was coming off as slightly paranoid.
Instead, he grumbled, shook his head, and pulled the door slightly wider, gesturing for the coat-clad blonde to enter. Bluntness and brevity with such a surveyed and concerning subject topic weren't going without some chastising. "Yes, I am. Now get in before I change my mind." The teen murmured. If anybody was watching, this whole scene wasn't helping, divulging additional facts to any eavesdropping strangers, but, hey, that can of worms had already been opened anyway.
Once the other youth did enter, he shut the door, bolting the latch back up, and gestured to the coatrack, before promptly weaving past his guest and returning to the table to raise his cup of coffee once more. "Chez Laz." With a liberal sip, he gestured to the place, one-handed. "You met my partner, the little Japanese girl?" Little, but cold and feisty all the same, with a glare that would give a gargoyle a hardon. "I'm Lazarus, either way. And I apologise for that little scene," The teen grumbled with an addendum. "Haven't been back long, trying to stay relatively careful when it comes to strangers."
((EDIT: Derp. Didn't mean to have him say it twice.))
Well, no shit. "Yeah, and if you'd like to go down to the store and get me some, that'd be great." The redhead snapped back; in his current state, burnt, hungover, undressed, and unshowered, he'd have to later be forgiven for not being particularly sociable in his current state. "If not, you can get on with it." Irritably, the Hunter finished and scowled at this individual on his doorstep.
It was only then that he took the time to analyse him. A few inches shorter than he, but still dead over six foot; blonde hair, neatly styled - with what was left of it, anyway, as opposed to his scarlet mop - and a build bulkier than his, but he'd wager, more or less as fit. And yet he'd almost ignored the most significant aspect of this particular man's appearance - who in himself couldn't have been much older than the American - which was, infact, a small black patch drawn over the right socket. "Are you a Hunter?"
Lazarus arched an eyebrow and almost felt his heart skip a beat. Sticking his head through the frame, he took a double-take from one side to the other - and, thankfully, it appeared there were no unwitting ears about, no cleaners or such, and the hungover scowl, now aggravated, only increased in intensity. "Are you right in the head?" Came the low growl from his throat; many had often asked the teen himself if he was sane, after performing either particularly daring and/or stupid (usually the latter) acts in general public, but this was something else.
Clearly, this had been the one Yuuko had told him about. Though he had no way of recognition, determining whether he was a Templar or Ritualist simply "investigating"; though the former would be considerably more subtle, and the latter would probably kill him irrespective of his answer. "I mean, what part of you would possibly think, "Let's talk about previously-established underground secrets on this stranger's doorstep!", or "Let's talk about my age-old holy genealogy to someone at random!"" Though, at this point, he imagined he was coming off as slightly paranoid.
Instead, he grumbled, shook his head, and pulled the door slightly wider, gesturing for the coat-clad blonde to enter. Bluntness and brevity with such a surveyed and concerning subject topic weren't going without some chastising. "Yes, I am. Now get in before I change my mind." The teen murmured. If anybody was watching, this whole scene wasn't helping, divulging additional facts to any eavesdropping strangers, but, hey, that can of worms had already been opened anyway.
Once the other youth did enter, he shut the door, bolting the latch back up, and gestured to the coatrack, before promptly weaving past his guest and returning to the table to raise his cup of coffee once more. "Chez Laz." With a liberal sip, he gestured to the place, one-handed. "You met my partner, the little Japanese girl?" Little, but cold and feisty all the same, with a glare that would give a gargoyle a hardon. "I'm Lazarus, either way. And I apologise for that little scene," The teen grumbled with an addendum. "Haven't been back long, trying to stay relatively careful when it comes to strangers."
((EDIT: Derp. Didn't mean to have him say it twice.))
Last edited by Lazarus Carter on Thu Jul 18, 2013 12:47 am; edited 1 time in total
Lazarus Carter- RISING CRESCENDO
(Founder) - Posts : 979
Join date : 2013-04-18
Age : 28
Location : Washington D.C. or London
Case File
Power Level: 3
Character Faction: Nephilim
Player: Ross -
Re: Dead End Friends [Blank/Lazarus]
by Blank Edwards Wed Jul 17, 2013 3:55 am
It's probably a good thing Laz mentioned the if not since Blank very nearly set off to acquire said bacon before stopping and re-focusing his attention. His question seemed to spark intense paranoia in the red-haired young man and he tilted his head to one side at the question if he was right in the head. In all honesty, he probably wasn't, Uncle regularly said he likely had PTSD as a teenager and he doubted even now that he was properly developed and could be touching on psychopathy, but he felt the question was rhetorical. He seemed upset because of the implication he was asking about his affiliation with the Demon Hunters in broad daylight. He could see why that would upset him but normally someone simply said "Yes, what kind of game are you thinking of?" and you'd subtly mention sulpher or brimstone and you'd retire somewhere else. Still, it answered the question and was faster than Blank trying to subtly word demons into a conversation about fox-hunting.
Following orders to enter the flat (again, it's just how his brain works), Blank found himself standing in the middle of a quite nice apartment. It was definitely nicer than where he was staying, he wondered about the cost idly (while not thinking how he was going to pay for HIS accommodation) and waited to hear what his fellow Demon Hunter had to say. He made an unfortunately genuine note that the flat was called Chez Laz and would forever think of it as such when the red haired man mentioned the Japanese girl. Blank nodded, he had indeed met her, though he wasn't sure he left the best impression (social situations were still tricky for him). Then the redhead introduced himself, Lazarus was a pretty good name. Fitting for a Demon Hunter, at any rate, made a change from Henrys and Oscars. Blank wasn't really sure what to do with the apology though over than flounder mentally for a second before adding
"Not a problem?" the question mark was his genuine uncertainty, was he meant to apologise back first? At least Lazarus didn't seem mad. Blank did at least look pleased and agreeable to Lazarus's statement of policy
"It's a good tactic to have until you get to know some of the Hunters who live around here. Most are pushing 40 or 50 by this point so they aren't terribly useful" Blank wasn't entirely sure how he should introduce himself, he felt like this was an awkward situation to begin with but maybe he should just be honest
"My name's Edwards, I don't really have a first name but my family called me Blank so I guess that's my name now. I'm also a Hunter, as you guessed, recently came out of retirement and I'm trying to band back into a group. I've got about 20 years of experience and I heard about your group through the grape-vine" he didn't like that choice of words, made it sound like everyone was listening. He wasn't really sure WHAT to add to that so wound up standing, somewhat awkwardly, half listening to the TV as he examined the living arrangement. And the smell of coffee...
Following orders to enter the flat (again, it's just how his brain works), Blank found himself standing in the middle of a quite nice apartment. It was definitely nicer than where he was staying, he wondered about the cost idly (while not thinking how he was going to pay for HIS accommodation) and waited to hear what his fellow Demon Hunter had to say. He made an unfortunately genuine note that the flat was called Chez Laz and would forever think of it as such when the red haired man mentioned the Japanese girl. Blank nodded, he had indeed met her, though he wasn't sure he left the best impression (social situations were still tricky for him). Then the redhead introduced himself, Lazarus was a pretty good name. Fitting for a Demon Hunter, at any rate, made a change from Henrys and Oscars. Blank wasn't really sure what to do with the apology though over than flounder mentally for a second before adding
"Not a problem?" the question mark was his genuine uncertainty, was he meant to apologise back first? At least Lazarus didn't seem mad. Blank did at least look pleased and agreeable to Lazarus's statement of policy
"It's a good tactic to have until you get to know some of the Hunters who live around here. Most are pushing 40 or 50 by this point so they aren't terribly useful" Blank wasn't entirely sure how he should introduce himself, he felt like this was an awkward situation to begin with but maybe he should just be honest
"My name's Edwards, I don't really have a first name but my family called me Blank so I guess that's my name now. I'm also a Hunter, as you guessed, recently came out of retirement and I'm trying to band back into a group. I've got about 20 years of experience and I heard about your group through the grape-vine" he didn't like that choice of words, made it sound like everyone was listening. He wasn't really sure WHAT to add to that so wound up standing, somewhat awkwardly, half listening to the TV as he examined the living arrangement. And the smell of coffee...
Blank Edwards- DEVIL'S EYE
- Posts : 44
Join date : 2013-06-30
Location : Fukushima, Japan
Case File
Power Level: 1
Character Faction: Freelance
Player: Breeze
Re: Dead End Friends [Blank/Lazarus]
by Lazarus Carter Thu Jul 18, 2013 4:17 am
"It's a good tactic to have until you get to know some of the Hunters who live around here. Most are pushing 40 or 50 by this point so they aren't terribly useful." Lazarus nodded understandingly. It was, of course, a good tactic; subtlety was key when you belonged to a specific underground subsect of humanity hidden from mainstream knowledge and with the genealogical duty to kill Demons. Yeah, subtlety was key.
Strolling over to the fridge nonchalantly, Laz tugged the door open with a sense of renewed vigour, in spite of his vicious hangover, and removed a can of coke, turning around and tossing it underarm towards the stoic Hunter. "Think fast!" The teen barked in that trademark American accent, grinning all the while as he returned to his coffee, before nodding, calming down, hoping the blonde would catch it, and addressing his earlier point. "Yeah. We know a good few people stateside, formed a little rag-tag party of our own, but over here, no-one." Well, aside from the lawyer girl. But that was... different. The other Nephilim back in DC were all experienced; and even he, a tentative newbie, knew a hell of a lot more than Adelaide.
"My name's Edwards, I don't really have a first name but my family called me Blank so I guess that's my name now." ...Blank? Well, name's a name, moniker's a moniker, alias is an alias... the redhead shrugged in return. "I'm also a Hunter, as you guessed, recently came out of retirement and I'm trying to band back into a group." Now; onto the meat of the matter. Trying to get back into a group? For a retired Hunter he looked fairly... young... the redhead scratched the back of his unkempt mop and let the blonde continue.
"I've got about 20 years of experience and I heard about your group through the grape-vine." ...but that was the part that caught him off-guard. This guy was either lying, a lot older than he looked, or had been involved in some insane shit in his youth. The redhead dropped back the last of his coffee with a wary glance, setting the mug back down on the table, and nodded slowly, trying to mull over these facts. Twenty years of experience made him the most qualified one of them there; and from that gritty, blunt, cold look, Lazarus half-believed him. Survival in Hell from the age of... what, three? Four? That was a camping trip and a half.
"Twenty years is a lot." The redhead remarked bluntly. "You must've started young with your family, then, I guess?" It was a random conversational choice; a lot of Hunters, it seemed, like him, he'd heard, had grown up in weird situations. Orphanages, adoptive parents - like him - even just random Hunters who'd taken kids under their wing. From what he'd heard, it wasn't uncommon for Hunter "families" in existence to keep everything in-house, begin teaching their children at such a young age. Jerome had been one example of that, and apparently, this... "Blank" was another. "And, yeah, I guess you could call hearing it from Yuuko the grapevine..." Pedantry was a fine art, especially that of the hungover.
"I'll get to the point." Laz murmured, moving over to the couch, and heaving up the seat cushion, pulling it out to reveal a small crevice in the actual lining of the sofa's structure itself, a relatively small yet exact square in the fabric. Reaching in with a look of determination, the redhead quickly grasped the object he was looking for, and withdrew it - a rolled-up sheet of paper, about twice the size of standard A4 printer paper, held together with an elastic band and facing inwards.
A few moments later, and the band was off, Laz unrolling the paper and gesturing for Blank to come forwards. The paper itself was a small, glossy map; two large black dots and one red were inscribed, apparently with some form of marker pen upon the surface. The two black dots were located in London and Washington; whilst the red was over Helsinki. "This map documents all the tears that I know about myself. According to the others, there are more, apparently about ten. I've put an ear to the ground, but can't pull up much." Lowering a bare finger to the dot on their current position, he explained. "Black dots show somewhere we've established a presence, or a cell of our original group, and red dots are tears without any members we've officially recruited."
Rolling the map back up, he sighed and continued to explain. "We're called Nephilim," The redhead grinned broadly, still apparently all-too-proud for picking that name proper. "Biblical offspring of Angels and Demons. We figured it was fitting enough." The teen spoke with a shrug before rolling up the paper, wrapping the band back over and tucking it back into the hole cut in the couch fabric, before moving the cushion back over. "I'm gonna personally run the D.C. cell, but my target is to establish a group across several countries, a couple dozen strong. Then we start fighting back."
Shrugging, Lazarus tilted his head. "Probably too ambitious, but I suppose, we've got to be," That signature grin again. "Anyway. I'm heading back to D.C. over the next few weeks, but, first, I want to establish a cell here. We'll remain in contact, all that shit," The teen dismissed the topic with a general handwave. "But if you want in, you're welcome to." Finally, the redhead cocked his head one last time, before explaining the single condition with the offer, with a vindictive smirk.
It was amazing, really; in just a month he'd gone from a traumatised, stressed, insomniac wreck to the makings of... well, what he personally thought was a half-decent leader. Sure, there were probably better people to run shit out there, but, hey, it was his gig now. "I've gotta see what you can do, over there, though." The connotation of the word "there" and the emphasis placed on it should have been all too clear to Blank from the moment it slipped out of the American's lips...
Strolling over to the fridge nonchalantly, Laz tugged the door open with a sense of renewed vigour, in spite of his vicious hangover, and removed a can of coke, turning around and tossing it underarm towards the stoic Hunter. "Think fast!" The teen barked in that trademark American accent, grinning all the while as he returned to his coffee, before nodding, calming down, hoping the blonde would catch it, and addressing his earlier point. "Yeah. We know a good few people stateside, formed a little rag-tag party of our own, but over here, no-one." Well, aside from the lawyer girl. But that was... different. The other Nephilim back in DC were all experienced; and even he, a tentative newbie, knew a hell of a lot more than Adelaide.
"My name's Edwards, I don't really have a first name but my family called me Blank so I guess that's my name now." ...Blank? Well, name's a name, moniker's a moniker, alias is an alias... the redhead shrugged in return. "I'm also a Hunter, as you guessed, recently came out of retirement and I'm trying to band back into a group." Now; onto the meat of the matter. Trying to get back into a group? For a retired Hunter he looked fairly... young... the redhead scratched the back of his unkempt mop and let the blonde continue.
"I've got about 20 years of experience and I heard about your group through the grape-vine." ...but that was the part that caught him off-guard. This guy was either lying, a lot older than he looked, or had been involved in some insane shit in his youth. The redhead dropped back the last of his coffee with a wary glance, setting the mug back down on the table, and nodded slowly, trying to mull over these facts. Twenty years of experience made him the most qualified one of them there; and from that gritty, blunt, cold look, Lazarus half-believed him. Survival in Hell from the age of... what, three? Four? That was a camping trip and a half.
"Twenty years is a lot." The redhead remarked bluntly. "You must've started young with your family, then, I guess?" It was a random conversational choice; a lot of Hunters, it seemed, like him, he'd heard, had grown up in weird situations. Orphanages, adoptive parents - like him - even just random Hunters who'd taken kids under their wing. From what he'd heard, it wasn't uncommon for Hunter "families" in existence to keep everything in-house, begin teaching their children at such a young age. Jerome had been one example of that, and apparently, this... "Blank" was another. "And, yeah, I guess you could call hearing it from Yuuko the grapevine..." Pedantry was a fine art, especially that of the hungover.
"I'll get to the point." Laz murmured, moving over to the couch, and heaving up the seat cushion, pulling it out to reveal a small crevice in the actual lining of the sofa's structure itself, a relatively small yet exact square in the fabric. Reaching in with a look of determination, the redhead quickly grasped the object he was looking for, and withdrew it - a rolled-up sheet of paper, about twice the size of standard A4 printer paper, held together with an elastic band and facing inwards.
A few moments later, and the band was off, Laz unrolling the paper and gesturing for Blank to come forwards. The paper itself was a small, glossy map; two large black dots and one red were inscribed, apparently with some form of marker pen upon the surface. The two black dots were located in London and Washington; whilst the red was over Helsinki. "This map documents all the tears that I know about myself. According to the others, there are more, apparently about ten. I've put an ear to the ground, but can't pull up much." Lowering a bare finger to the dot on their current position, he explained. "Black dots show somewhere we've established a presence, or a cell of our original group, and red dots are tears without any members we've officially recruited."
Rolling the map back up, he sighed and continued to explain. "We're called Nephilim," The redhead grinned broadly, still apparently all-too-proud for picking that name proper. "Biblical offspring of Angels and Demons. We figured it was fitting enough." The teen spoke with a shrug before rolling up the paper, wrapping the band back over and tucking it back into the hole cut in the couch fabric, before moving the cushion back over. "I'm gonna personally run the D.C. cell, but my target is to establish a group across several countries, a couple dozen strong. Then we start fighting back."
Shrugging, Lazarus tilted his head. "Probably too ambitious, but I suppose, we've got to be," That signature grin again. "Anyway. I'm heading back to D.C. over the next few weeks, but, first, I want to establish a cell here. We'll remain in contact, all that shit," The teen dismissed the topic with a general handwave. "But if you want in, you're welcome to." Finally, the redhead cocked his head one last time, before explaining the single condition with the offer, with a vindictive smirk.
It was amazing, really; in just a month he'd gone from a traumatised, stressed, insomniac wreck to the makings of... well, what he personally thought was a half-decent leader. Sure, there were probably better people to run shit out there, but, hey, it was his gig now. "I've gotta see what you can do, over there, though." The connotation of the word "there" and the emphasis placed on it should have been all too clear to Blank from the moment it slipped out of the American's lips...
Lazarus Carter- RISING CRESCENDO
(Founder) - Posts : 979
Join date : 2013-04-18
Age : 28
Location : Washington D.C. or London
Case File
Power Level: 3
Character Faction: Nephilim
Player: Ross -
Re: Dead End Friends [Blank/Lazarus]
by Blank Edwards Thu Jul 18, 2013 1:32 pm
Blank actually fumbled for the can as it was thrown, his depth perception was still it's usual self so he did catch it, albeit with more difficulty than his reflexes should have allowed. He wasn't entirely sure whether it was a good idea to open the drink but it'd be best to show some trust so he popped the tab with a hiss and gave it a quick swig. Bubbly, sugary, not his usual choice of refreshment but it'd have to do, it felt rude to ask for water now. Lazarus said they didn't really know anyone here and Blank could only think that was a good thing. The British groups he knew of were pretty screwed up in their thinking, he was a living example of that, but because of England's tear being where it was, the bulk of Hunters treated it as either a hobby or a dayjob, to his knowledge he was the only one (now Uncle was dead) who treated it like a duty. He had to fight the demons, it was pretty much the only thing he knew HOW to do. And if they were going to recruit people, he was gonna make damn sure he got there before Barlow did, didn't want them getting sucked up by his personality.
Lazarus showed an admirable lack of reaction to Blank's odd life-story, right up until he mentioned how long he'd been hunting which provoked a reaction. Blank kind of shrugged at the question while he considered how best to answer it, should he just tell him the truth? Yeah, may as well
"My mother died shortly after I was born, my father lost his marbles slightly and decided I needed to be trained. The first time I went to Inferis I was three weeks old. I spent the last four years retired because I felt my childhood was enough of a price but recently I got dragged back in. That's about it" he really hated talking, but he especially hated talking about himself. Always felt kind of arrogant, there was no reason Lazarus would care why he'd been trained the way he had. The end result was an above average Hunter but that was about it.
As Lazarus unrolled the map, Blank listened quietly as he listed off the locations they knew and the cells they had established. They still seemed pretty young so Blank could respect how quickly he'd managed to get this all set up, but he may as well be helpful. With his eye shut and his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose Blank dragged the information from his memory and recited
"London, Rome, Barcelona, Irkutsk, Johannesburg, Washington, Hong Kong, Helsinki, Rio de Janeiro and... the last one is allegedly Vatican City but with the Templar it's next to impossible to prove or disprove it" he scratched his head awkwardly, his father had drilled those locations into him a lot when he was growing up and Uncle had taken him to visit them in the past too. Both sides.
He gave Lazarus's plan some consideration before he felt a smile creeping across his face. Establish a networked cell (that was a good idea, that was a REALLY good idea) and then start fighting back. Blank would have gone methodically, eliminating Arch-Demon by Arch-Demon but it'd take higher casualties and they would have noticed the shift in power balance, but attacking each individually? No re-inforcements, assuming they'd even choose to send them, no trouble with attacking spheres miles away just a phonecall and you could have it covered. He liked it. He liked it a lot.
"I think I'm interested, Lazarus. You might be on to something here" he was still young but Blank could tell that Lazarus here already had more dedication than he had while being forced along. It was kind of inspiring. And then came the natural question and Blank's natural answer
"Sure. My evocation is called Devil's Eye. I'll show you, do you want to cross here or somewhere else?" there wasn't even a moment of hesitation, the one eyed hunter simply agreed to the request and showed not a single ounce of fear about traveling into Hell itself for a test. If nothing else, he was clearly damaged.[/color][/color]
Lazarus showed an admirable lack of reaction to Blank's odd life-story, right up until he mentioned how long he'd been hunting which provoked a reaction. Blank kind of shrugged at the question while he considered how best to answer it, should he just tell him the truth? Yeah, may as well
"My mother died shortly after I was born, my father lost his marbles slightly and decided I needed to be trained. The first time I went to Inferis I was three weeks old. I spent the last four years retired because I felt my childhood was enough of a price but recently I got dragged back in. That's about it" he really hated talking, but he especially hated talking about himself. Always felt kind of arrogant, there was no reason Lazarus would care why he'd been trained the way he had. The end result was an above average Hunter but that was about it.
As Lazarus unrolled the map, Blank listened quietly as he listed off the locations they knew and the cells they had established. They still seemed pretty young so Blank could respect how quickly he'd managed to get this all set up, but he may as well be helpful. With his eye shut and his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose Blank dragged the information from his memory and recited
"London, Rome, Barcelona, Irkutsk, Johannesburg, Washington, Hong Kong, Helsinki, Rio de Janeiro and... the last one is allegedly Vatican City but with the Templar it's next to impossible to prove or disprove it" he scratched his head awkwardly, his father had drilled those locations into him a lot when he was growing up and Uncle had taken him to visit them in the past too. Both sides.
He gave Lazarus's plan some consideration before he felt a smile creeping across his face. Establish a networked cell (that was a good idea, that was a REALLY good idea) and then start fighting back. Blank would have gone methodically, eliminating Arch-Demon by Arch-Demon but it'd take higher casualties and they would have noticed the shift in power balance, but attacking each individually? No re-inforcements, assuming they'd even choose to send them, no trouble with attacking spheres miles away just a phonecall and you could have it covered. He liked it. He liked it a lot.
"I think I'm interested, Lazarus. You might be on to something here" he was still young but Blank could tell that Lazarus here already had more dedication than he had while being forced along. It was kind of inspiring. And then came the natural question and Blank's natural answer
"Sure. My evocation is called Devil's Eye. I'll show you, do you want to cross here or somewhere else?" there wasn't even a moment of hesitation, the one eyed hunter simply agreed to the request and showed not a single ounce of fear about traveling into Hell itself for a test. If nothing else, he was clearly damaged.[/color][/color]
Last edited by Blank Edwards on Fri Jul 19, 2013 2:40 pm; edited 1 time in total
Blank Edwards- DEVIL'S EYE
- Posts : 44
Join date : 2013-06-30
Location : Fukushima, Japan
Case File
Power Level: 1
Character Faction: Freelance
Player: Breeze
Re: Dead End Friends [Blank/Lazarus]
by Lazarus Carter Fri Jul 19, 2013 3:49 am
"London, Rome, Barcelona, Irkutsk, Johannesburg, Washington, Hong Kong, Helsinki, Rio de Janeiro and... the last one is allegedly Vatican City but with the Templars it's next to impossible to prove or disprove it." Nodding, Lazarus recounted the ones he didn't have marked down in his head. Rome, Barcelona, Irkutsk - what, was that Russia? - Johannesburg, Hong Kong, Helsinki, Rio, and the Vatican. Rome. For a moment, images of Cael flashed before his eyes again, but all too swiftly he suppressed them; that was a memory of another time, and whether the man had slightly more supernatural duties like he or not was irrelevant; there was always something about the swordsman that had been slightly quirky, but a hunch was a hunch. The redhead simply made a mental note that he'd call his old comrade later.
"I'll write them down later. Thanks." Laz nodded promptly, before continuing, sighing and returning to the still-warm kettle with his used mug, pouring out another teaspoon full of coffee and filling up the cup, this time with half boiled water and half cold, as to make it somewhat more drinkable. Taking another satisfying sip - his hangover dwindling and losing the battle that little bit further with every swig - he set the mug back down and decided it was now time to assemble something of an outfit for the day's activities.
The next response really made him grin half-way through his beeline to his bedroom, gesturing to Blank that he'd only be a moment. "I think I'm interested, Lazarus. You might be on to something here." 'Might be onto something here' was the part that really did it for him. This was ambition - it was a real damn target, but with every prospective member, everybody who joined their "cause", outlandish as it was, everybody who banded together to help, they grew a step closer to the end, another person who could take their share of the weight. And slowly, ever so slowly, the monumental task became gradually closer in their collective field of view.
Walking into the bedroom, he threw open his chest of drawers, snatching a pair of dark, tapered jeans, tossing them behind him nonchalantly and onto his bed, before following them with a pair of socks, fresh boxers, and a t-shirt bearing a blown-up version of the Ziggy Stardust album cover on it. "Now that, my man, is what I like to hear!" The redhead called, still-grinning, through the bedroom door, changing his boxers and strapping on the socks in a matter of moments. It was barely seconds later he was pulling on the jeans til they sat tight around his waist in a more-than-adequate fit, and finally found himself born again in the warm, and surprisingly comfortable clutches of the tee. "All we ask for is devotion, doesn't even matter what. Every little bit helps."
With that, the teen plucked up his white bomber and keys, along with his shitty Blackberry from the dresser, tucking both of them into his pockets and sighing, confronting the blonde with that eternal grin, chucking the jacket haphazardly onto the couch. "Sure. My evocation is called Devil's Eye. I'll show you, do you want to cross here or somewhere else?" Evocation? Singular? For a moment, Laz regarded him with a tilted head and a skewed glance - he'd been in this game less than a month and already had three entirely different examples at his disposal, and Blank only had one for twenty years' experience?
Irrespective, he tried not to be rude, breaking his stance subtly and hoping his would-be comrade didn't pick up on it, nodding. Everyone's Evocations worked differently, he guess. Maybe the guy could do different things with this Devil's Eye, many a use for it - that'd make slightly more sense. Either way, he knocked back the last of his coffee, and shook his head, addressing the question. "Nah, I'll lock up and we'll head into town. There's a little structure-thing a couple blocks away I've been meaning to clear out..."
Excursions into Inferis that he'd used for mainly planning had isolated a few of the more bulky Demon bases around; and whether he had that many Evocations or not, two heads were still better than one, and would give the pair of them a much greater chance of survival on foreign turf - which it was twice-over for Lazarus when it came to combat. "After all, new prospect on the horizon and all, what better an opportunity?" He'd been saving it for a special occasion, rainy day - as odd as it sounded - after all, and this guy, enigmatic and strange as he was, seemed to fit the bill.
Jerking a finger to the door, he gestured for Blank to start off without him, plucking up his Superdry and shrugging it on. "You head out first, I'll lock up and all."
((Just have Blank move down through the building and speak to Laz, so you have something to post, I'll just have Laz finish locking up and walk along with you at your pace with mine. Ask any questions or whatever, we'll move into a separate thread before we cross.))
"I'll write them down later. Thanks." Laz nodded promptly, before continuing, sighing and returning to the still-warm kettle with his used mug, pouring out another teaspoon full of coffee and filling up the cup, this time with half boiled water and half cold, as to make it somewhat more drinkable. Taking another satisfying sip - his hangover dwindling and losing the battle that little bit further with every swig - he set the mug back down and decided it was now time to assemble something of an outfit for the day's activities.
The next response really made him grin half-way through his beeline to his bedroom, gesturing to Blank that he'd only be a moment. "I think I'm interested, Lazarus. You might be on to something here." 'Might be onto something here' was the part that really did it for him. This was ambition - it was a real damn target, but with every prospective member, everybody who joined their "cause", outlandish as it was, everybody who banded together to help, they grew a step closer to the end, another person who could take their share of the weight. And slowly, ever so slowly, the monumental task became gradually closer in their collective field of view.
Walking into the bedroom, he threw open his chest of drawers, snatching a pair of dark, tapered jeans, tossing them behind him nonchalantly and onto his bed, before following them with a pair of socks, fresh boxers, and a t-shirt bearing a blown-up version of the Ziggy Stardust album cover on it. "Now that, my man, is what I like to hear!" The redhead called, still-grinning, through the bedroom door, changing his boxers and strapping on the socks in a matter of moments. It was barely seconds later he was pulling on the jeans til they sat tight around his waist in a more-than-adequate fit, and finally found himself born again in the warm, and surprisingly comfortable clutches of the tee. "All we ask for is devotion, doesn't even matter what. Every little bit helps."
With that, the teen plucked up his white bomber and keys, along with his shitty Blackberry from the dresser, tucking both of them into his pockets and sighing, confronting the blonde with that eternal grin, chucking the jacket haphazardly onto the couch. "Sure. My evocation is called Devil's Eye. I'll show you, do you want to cross here or somewhere else?" Evocation? Singular? For a moment, Laz regarded him with a tilted head and a skewed glance - he'd been in this game less than a month and already had three entirely different examples at his disposal, and Blank only had one for twenty years' experience?
Irrespective, he tried not to be rude, breaking his stance subtly and hoping his would-be comrade didn't pick up on it, nodding. Everyone's Evocations worked differently, he guess. Maybe the guy could do different things with this Devil's Eye, many a use for it - that'd make slightly more sense. Either way, he knocked back the last of his coffee, and shook his head, addressing the question. "Nah, I'll lock up and we'll head into town. There's a little structure-thing a couple blocks away I've been meaning to clear out..."
Excursions into Inferis that he'd used for mainly planning had isolated a few of the more bulky Demon bases around; and whether he had that many Evocations or not, two heads were still better than one, and would give the pair of them a much greater chance of survival on foreign turf - which it was twice-over for Lazarus when it came to combat. "After all, new prospect on the horizon and all, what better an opportunity?" He'd been saving it for a special occasion, rainy day - as odd as it sounded - after all, and this guy, enigmatic and strange as he was, seemed to fit the bill.
Jerking a finger to the door, he gestured for Blank to start off without him, plucking up his Superdry and shrugging it on. "You head out first, I'll lock up and all."
((Just have Blank move down through the building and speak to Laz, so you have something to post, I'll just have Laz finish locking up and walk along with you at your pace with mine. Ask any questions or whatever, we'll move into a separate thread before we cross.))
Lazarus Carter- RISING CRESCENDO
(Founder) - Posts : 979
Join date : 2013-04-18
Age : 28
Location : Washington D.C. or London
Case File
Power Level: 3
Character Faction: Nephilim
Player: Ross -
Re: Dead End Friends [Blank/Lazarus]
by Blank Edwards Fri Jul 19, 2013 2:39 pm
Blank was pleased by Lazarus' response, he seemed to be as enthusiastic as Blank about dealing with the Demons once and for all. He stood pretty much stock still as Lazarus quickly shuffled through his clothes and got dressed, not saying anything or giving a hint of a reaction to the pretty non-standard method of preparation occurring just a few feet away in the bedroom. He did take the time to make sure they'd remembered to switch off the TV, more out of practicality than anything else, it'd just run up Lazarus electricity bill.
Blank did notice, unfortunately, Lazarus taking note he only said evocation but didn't think anything negative of it. If anything, it implied good things if the young Hunter had already mastered more than one, Blank knew his own set of abilities was... idiosyncratic shall we say so they didn't sound great in synopsis. Though he may have to push himself somewhat and attempt his other evocations besides Cannon if he wanted to give Lazarus a good impression of what he could do. He remembered how to do them, it was just whether he had enough Soul Energy to perform them well. He hoped that whatever they found in Inferis might spark someone kind of flashback so he could utilise his abilities properly, but that was probably a long shot. He'd been back a week, nearly, maybe something would just click.
So they were heading for a nest? Blank hadn't actually been to this part of the Necropolis since he got back so he wasn't sure where his new ally meant but it must be somewhere fairly easy if he was planning it as a test. Naturally, this was assumed easiness, you could walk into that weird brothel Love Nest and wind up staring at a naked, fully erect Arch-Demon which would be quite possibly the worst day any Hunter would ever have, but hey, no use being a pessimist. Blank waited outside, idly pondering what kind of conversation he could make on their walk and trying to remember the architecture of the Necropolis in this area while Lazarus locked his door. He was naturally quiet and he'd probably prefer them walking in silence but it might come across as a bit standoffish or like he was upset since they'd only just met. Scraping the barrel of his mind, he managed to find at least one topic of conversation that could be interesting even if they might need to talk in metaphor
"So, when did you start?" his voice, bless him, wasn't that expressive but the intended tone of "When did you start hunting, only we shouldn't say hunting, that'll lead to trouble" would hopefully come across
((OOC: Bit shorter, sorry dood @_@))
Blank did notice, unfortunately, Lazarus taking note he only said evocation but didn't think anything negative of it. If anything, it implied good things if the young Hunter had already mastered more than one, Blank knew his own set of abilities was... idiosyncratic shall we say so they didn't sound great in synopsis. Though he may have to push himself somewhat and attempt his other evocations besides Cannon if he wanted to give Lazarus a good impression of what he could do. He remembered how to do them, it was just whether he had enough Soul Energy to perform them well. He hoped that whatever they found in Inferis might spark someone kind of flashback so he could utilise his abilities properly, but that was probably a long shot. He'd been back a week, nearly, maybe something would just click.
So they were heading for a nest? Blank hadn't actually been to this part of the Necropolis since he got back so he wasn't sure where his new ally meant but it must be somewhere fairly easy if he was planning it as a test. Naturally, this was assumed easiness, you could walk into that weird brothel Love Nest and wind up staring at a naked, fully erect Arch-Demon which would be quite possibly the worst day any Hunter would ever have, but hey, no use being a pessimist. Blank waited outside, idly pondering what kind of conversation he could make on their walk and trying to remember the architecture of the Necropolis in this area while Lazarus locked his door. He was naturally quiet and he'd probably prefer them walking in silence but it might come across as a bit standoffish or like he was upset since they'd only just met. Scraping the barrel of his mind, he managed to find at least one topic of conversation that could be interesting even if they might need to talk in metaphor
"So, when did you start?" his voice, bless him, wasn't that expressive but the intended tone of "When did you start hunting, only we shouldn't say hunting, that'll lead to trouble" would hopefully come across
((OOC: Bit shorter, sorry dood @_@))
Blank Edwards- DEVIL'S EYE
- Posts : 44
Join date : 2013-06-30
Location : Fukushima, Japan
Case File
Power Level: 1
Character Faction: Freelance
Player: Breeze
Re: Dead End Friends [Blank/Lazarus]
by Lazarus Carter Sat Jul 20, 2013 9:53 am
With a dull clunk moments later, the key turned in the door and the lock primed itself before engaging. Wrenching the ring out from within the frame, Lazarus briefly whirled the metal around his finger before pocketing it with a sigh, and began to head down the stairs to follow Blank, when his newfound all-business would-be comrade posed another question. "So, when did you start?" Ah, the ever-valid query: this was going to be a fun one. Twenty years versus a month.
"Beginning of last month," He replied promptly, catching up to the marginally older man and easing up alongside him with a shrug, the pair of them now descending the stairs. "I'm a quick learner, I guess." That; and he'd had the luck to run into tutor after tutor. Picking up with Yuuko was chance enough; but Jinhong after that? And then her twin? It was as if fate had picked him up by the ankles and shaken him for all he had before promptly tossing him into a pile of allies ready to fight back - and thus they did.
"Put this idea together about two weeks ago." He continued to explain; perhaps Blank would be somewhat offset by such ambition so swiftly, but he really didn't mind. "I had big ideas quickly, I guess." Maybe it came with being raised entirely ignorant of his heritage before being thrown head-first as an adult into all this; his reaction to it had been halfway frightened and halfway trying to justify it and chain it down with the team logic he knew so well from his normal experiences, the life he was so more familiar with, but a life he'd always felt a little... disenchanted by.
It wasn't long before Lazarus pushed the door of the Brighton Road apartment block out and the pair spilled out into the busy South London street. It was familiar territory to the crimson-haired Hunter; this was home just as much as Helena had been, back in Montana. And just as much as wherever he'd lived before that been, wherever he'd been conceived. Mentally he went back over things; and consolidated once more that the issue of his adoption... had... never really bothered him, truth be told. It was just something he'd come to deal with.
He hadn't been the progeny of addicts or criminals, and the act of adoption hadn't been a random one of kindness; he'd just simply been moved into the program because his hardworking parents couldn't support him, or didn't want a child, one more child, whatever the reality was - and so he'd been a blessing to the Carter family instead, and their later three children. God; that got him really thinking. How were his parents? The twins, Jen... that was what he meant with all his off-centre musing. How far away this old life felt. Sprinting. Music. Even playing ball, though it'd been a long time before hunting that he'd forgotten about the last one.
Lazarus. The significance was in his name. The man who came back to life. Maybe he resurrected his parents' hopes and dreams in the form of a tiny squealing infant, too, that desire to simply have a child, for Mariah and Isaiah just to bear something they could teach, raise, love... but; here he was getting off-topic. They were beginning to dwindle out here in the less-than-comfortable February breeze. London was never frigid and never sweltering. It seemed to maintain a fairly standard and miserable grey overtone to it for about ten and a half months or the year, the teen had recognised.
The teen jerked a thumb down the road, swiftly wiping those last thoughts from his memory. "Shall we?" Laz jerked a thumb along, and the pair began walking nonchalantly to their destination. As for shooting the shit, he still had a few questions he felt like asking Blank; everywhere from common courtesy and typical interaction through to the intricacies of his being a Hunter. "So you spoke about this 'Devil Eye' thing..." Well, the Evocation was the first thing he wanted to iron out, out of sheer and somewhat morbid curiosity.
With a prod through the air towards the boy's black patch, somewhat tactlessly - the hangover still apparently present - he continued. "I'm guessing it's got something to do with that..." Laz made as a point, before bringing up the final part of the trio of statements: the question to top it all off. "Well... what exactly does it do?"
((Keep shooting the shit a little. We'll get a couple more posts in before we cross, y'know, make sure this is a proper thread and not just some bullshit lead-up. =P))
"Beginning of last month," He replied promptly, catching up to the marginally older man and easing up alongside him with a shrug, the pair of them now descending the stairs. "I'm a quick learner, I guess." That; and he'd had the luck to run into tutor after tutor. Picking up with Yuuko was chance enough; but Jinhong after that? And then her twin? It was as if fate had picked him up by the ankles and shaken him for all he had before promptly tossing him into a pile of allies ready to fight back - and thus they did.
"Put this idea together about two weeks ago." He continued to explain; perhaps Blank would be somewhat offset by such ambition so swiftly, but he really didn't mind. "I had big ideas quickly, I guess." Maybe it came with being raised entirely ignorant of his heritage before being thrown head-first as an adult into all this; his reaction to it had been halfway frightened and halfway trying to justify it and chain it down with the team logic he knew so well from his normal experiences, the life he was so more familiar with, but a life he'd always felt a little... disenchanted by.
It wasn't long before Lazarus pushed the door of the Brighton Road apartment block out and the pair spilled out into the busy South London street. It was familiar territory to the crimson-haired Hunter; this was home just as much as Helena had been, back in Montana. And just as much as wherever he'd lived before that been, wherever he'd been conceived. Mentally he went back over things; and consolidated once more that the issue of his adoption... had... never really bothered him, truth be told. It was just something he'd come to deal with.
He hadn't been the progeny of addicts or criminals, and the act of adoption hadn't been a random one of kindness; he'd just simply been moved into the program because his hardworking parents couldn't support him, or didn't want a child, one more child, whatever the reality was - and so he'd been a blessing to the Carter family instead, and their later three children. God; that got him really thinking. How were his parents? The twins, Jen... that was what he meant with all his off-centre musing. How far away this old life felt. Sprinting. Music. Even playing ball, though it'd been a long time before hunting that he'd forgotten about the last one.
Lazarus. The significance was in his name. The man who came back to life. Maybe he resurrected his parents' hopes and dreams in the form of a tiny squealing infant, too, that desire to simply have a child, for Mariah and Isaiah just to bear something they could teach, raise, love... but; here he was getting off-topic. They were beginning to dwindle out here in the less-than-comfortable February breeze. London was never frigid and never sweltering. It seemed to maintain a fairly standard and miserable grey overtone to it for about ten and a half months or the year, the teen had recognised.
The teen jerked a thumb down the road, swiftly wiping those last thoughts from his memory. "Shall we?" Laz jerked a thumb along, and the pair began walking nonchalantly to their destination. As for shooting the shit, he still had a few questions he felt like asking Blank; everywhere from common courtesy and typical interaction through to the intricacies of his being a Hunter. "So you spoke about this 'Devil Eye' thing..." Well, the Evocation was the first thing he wanted to iron out, out of sheer and somewhat morbid curiosity.
With a prod through the air towards the boy's black patch, somewhat tactlessly - the hangover still apparently present - he continued. "I'm guessing it's got something to do with that..." Laz made as a point, before bringing up the final part of the trio of statements: the question to top it all off. "Well... what exactly does it do?"
((Keep shooting the shit a little. We'll get a couple more posts in before we cross, y'know, make sure this is a proper thread and not just some bullshit lead-up. =P))
Lazarus Carter- RISING CRESCENDO
(Founder) - Posts : 979
Join date : 2013-04-18
Age : 28
Location : Washington D.C. or London
Case File
Power Level: 3
Character Faction: Nephilim
Player: Ross -
Re: Dead End Friends [Blank/Lazarus]
by Blank Edwards Mon Jul 22, 2013 9:11 pm
Perhaps surprisingly, perhaps yet more worryingly, Blank nodded at him saying a month in an approving manner
"That's good, you've done pretty well" the terrifying implications of this could be taken in two ways. 1) he'd done a lot in a short time, so he was a quick learner or 2) Most Hunters were presumed to have died in their first month and simply surviving as long as he had impressed Blank. Statistically, the ability to be a Hunter was fairly well spread out so the fact they were fairly small in number implied this, not to mention the sheer number of Demons who claimed to have killed multiple Hunters. In Blank's eyes, making it past your first week was pretty impressive. Still, from his attitude, there was something about this guy. He seemed to be picking up evocations at a pretty good pace. He seemed to have reacted to the assumption Blank only had one but usually it took at least a month to develop two, if he already had a good deal more than he was getting pretty good pretty fast.
So the whole Nephilim thing had been going for about two weeks? That was also on the impressive side of the fence. Blank had been hunting his whole life but most groups he knew tended to form organically over a couple of months or were orchestrated so members were disposable, Lazarus seemed to be planning it so every member was vital to his plan and he put a good deal of faith in them. Blank kind of liked that mindset, made a nice improvement from "Live or die, as long it doesn't come back to me", but it also highlighted how exceptional this Lazarus guy was. He was coming on leaps and bounds in a matter of weeks, Blank was suitably impressed. He was actually curious to see what evocations he had in Inferis. He was expecting equipment, he seemed like an equipment type to him.
As Lazarus' mind drifted back to his family with vague concern, Blank's thoughts almost parralleled his as he watched the crowds, spotting a father with his son riding his shoulders. Just as Lazarus name represented his parents love and hope, Blank's represented his father's apathy. He started with good intentions but the love that a father felt for his son was simple apathy in the case of George Edwards. His grandmother was the closest thing to a blood relative he'd had, and then Uncle, but his mother died too soon, his father was broken by it. He didn't often wonder what it would have been like had things been different, because of the nature of their lineage he was doomed to experience tragedy eventually. So was Lazarus, probably, eventually a demon would go after what family he had, or so Blank's pessimistic mind believed. Still, he wondered if he would have ended up like the younger man had he been raised by a loving family.
At Lazarus question of movement, Blank nodded, turning to follow his pace and keeping as alert as he could for things happening around him. He noticed Lazarus asking questions and somewhat tactlessly pointing at his eyepatch. Well, it wasn't so much an insult as an accurate guess so for once he kept his cool about the whole thing and replied about it
"Yup" he almost left it at that but spurred on by his desire to, you know, make a GOOD impression, he made himself carry on "My evocations a bit weird, it's a combination of equipment and skill. When I'm in Inferis my eye grows back, like an equipment, but then it lets me utilise abilities like a skill. I have a couple of skills I use through it but in essence it's a single evocation that rotates abilities." Blank had tactfully not mentioned WHICH abilities because if he couldn't perform later he'd just say he was holding them back. Although this did lead to his next batch of questions
"So what are your evocations? You have a few I guess?"
"That's good, you've done pretty well" the terrifying implications of this could be taken in two ways. 1) he'd done a lot in a short time, so he was a quick learner or 2) Most Hunters were presumed to have died in their first month and simply surviving as long as he had impressed Blank. Statistically, the ability to be a Hunter was fairly well spread out so the fact they were fairly small in number implied this, not to mention the sheer number of Demons who claimed to have killed multiple Hunters. In Blank's eyes, making it past your first week was pretty impressive. Still, from his attitude, there was something about this guy. He seemed to be picking up evocations at a pretty good pace. He seemed to have reacted to the assumption Blank only had one but usually it took at least a month to develop two, if he already had a good deal more than he was getting pretty good pretty fast.
So the whole Nephilim thing had been going for about two weeks? That was also on the impressive side of the fence. Blank had been hunting his whole life but most groups he knew tended to form organically over a couple of months or were orchestrated so members were disposable, Lazarus seemed to be planning it so every member was vital to his plan and he put a good deal of faith in them. Blank kind of liked that mindset, made a nice improvement from "Live or die, as long it doesn't come back to me", but it also highlighted how exceptional this Lazarus guy was. He was coming on leaps and bounds in a matter of weeks, Blank was suitably impressed. He was actually curious to see what evocations he had in Inferis. He was expecting equipment, he seemed like an equipment type to him.
As Lazarus' mind drifted back to his family with vague concern, Blank's thoughts almost parralleled his as he watched the crowds, spotting a father with his son riding his shoulders. Just as Lazarus name represented his parents love and hope, Blank's represented his father's apathy. He started with good intentions but the love that a father felt for his son was simple apathy in the case of George Edwards. His grandmother was the closest thing to a blood relative he'd had, and then Uncle, but his mother died too soon, his father was broken by it. He didn't often wonder what it would have been like had things been different, because of the nature of their lineage he was doomed to experience tragedy eventually. So was Lazarus, probably, eventually a demon would go after what family he had, or so Blank's pessimistic mind believed. Still, he wondered if he would have ended up like the younger man had he been raised by a loving family.
At Lazarus question of movement, Blank nodded, turning to follow his pace and keeping as alert as he could for things happening around him. He noticed Lazarus asking questions and somewhat tactlessly pointing at his eyepatch. Well, it wasn't so much an insult as an accurate guess so for once he kept his cool about the whole thing and replied about it
"Yup" he almost left it at that but spurred on by his desire to, you know, make a GOOD impression, he made himself carry on "My evocations a bit weird, it's a combination of equipment and skill. When I'm in Inferis my eye grows back, like an equipment, but then it lets me utilise abilities like a skill. I have a couple of skills I use through it but in essence it's a single evocation that rotates abilities." Blank had tactfully not mentioned WHICH abilities because if he couldn't perform later he'd just say he was holding them back. Although this did lead to his next batch of questions
"So what are your evocations? You have a few I guess?"
Blank Edwards- DEVIL'S EYE
- Posts : 44
Join date : 2013-06-30
Location : Fukushima, Japan
Case File
Power Level: 1
Character Faction: Freelance
Player: Breeze
Re: Dead End Friends [Blank/Lazarus]
by Lazarus Carter Tue Jul 23, 2013 6:18 am
"My evocations a bit weird, it's a combination of equipment and skill. When I'm in Inferis my eye grows back, like an equipment, but then it lets me utilise abilities like a skill. I have a couple of skills I use through it but in essence it's a single evocation that rotates abilities." The red-haired Hunter more than arched an eyebrow. That was... quizzical, to say the very least. Sure; he could conjure weaponry, and apparently generate a number of explosive flashy rings with his voice, and even see sounds as colours; but Hunters regenerating parts of their bodies was not anything he heard of. Though, at the end of the day, Laz supposed, really, Inferis was Inferis: and with the Demon Hunter gene came something different in form of Evocation for everyone.
"Sounds pretty complicated," The teen remarked in rebuttal, drawing up alongside his erstwhile comrade as they walked with a leisurely though driven pace - Blank's stride far more rigid and regimented than his own - towards the destination Laz had mapped out for them. "Though I'm sure the whole thing's lethal enough, eh?" With a knowledgeable grin he exchanged another glance with the one-eyed blonde. It was very much clear that with twenty years of experience this man was no stranger to combat: he would be a living weapon in his own right, and would have seen trauma the likes of which his pitiful month's experience could not so much as compare to.
The next question was one that surprised him a little. "So what are your evocations? You have a few I guess?" He half-wanted to deny Blank of a response and save it all for a great unveiling once they crossed - but that was far from decent of him, especially since his fellow Hunter had given him something of an explanation of his own abilities. So with a grin he scrolled through the arsenal he had at his disposal and took a long intake of breath before beginning to list them. As much as he tried to remain humble concerning Inferis - one of the more innate matters of life - he did at this point in time feel like showcasing his equipment, if only just a little.
"Well," He started, holding up an open, bare hand, and raising his index finger first. "I've got a pair of handguns which are pretty cool, they tend to work fairly well," He explained. Though, to be fair, the criteria for a functional handgun consisted of "makes loud noises" and "kills things". Both of which the Nomads did with exceptional prowess. "Then some weird ability to shout and make these big-ass explosive ring things," That was explaining it really well. Laz tried to make a hollowed-out circle with his hands roughly the size of the discs his Echo Trigger produced. He remembered the instance with the young solicitor and the... bird. Ugh. "A shotgun somewhere up there, too."
Then, finally, came the last one. He scratched his head; having not used it that much at all compared to the Nomads and the Trigger. "Then some earthquake stomp shit." With a vindictive grin he nodded in self-approval. "That one's really good fun." With that, he decided that there was cause for another addendum, letting his mouth hang open a little. The only other person who'd really heard about this was Yuuko; and it wasn't for any sort of shame or feeling as if it were a weakness, just that he hadn't really thought of it. It felt... natural, in Inferis.
"Over there," Laz began again, more slowly and cautious this time. "I see loud sounds as colours," The redhead shrugged, continuing to walk in an awkward silence for a moment, not really sure how else to describe it. "It's weird." Well, that worked, too. "I remember touching on it in an old Psychology class back home. It's called synaesthesia or something, like... a blending of the senses." And now for the significance of the whole explanation. "I'm not that knowledgeable about all my abilities and how they link together, but I think that's where they come from, y'know? Taking and using sound energy, I guess." Well this felt kind of like Buffyspeak.
It wasn't too long before their destination drew up in the distance. Laz took another glance towards the sky; it was closing up just about lunchtime, looked like. Gesturing towards a building that was soon barely a hundred metres or so in front of them and on the pair's right flank, the redhead refrained from pointing, simply subtly bobbing his head towards the structure and keeling off to the terraced street wall about twenty metres away. "That's our target." The teen murmured towards the prospective Nephilim member. "We'll not get too closer, just incase we start to look like sex offenders,"
Lazarus explained by jerking a thumb over his shoulder to a small white plaque that stuck out of the ground reading in bolded black writing: "St. John's School". Primary education. It was a little place; a couple of buildings two or three storey and a playground, a little worn down, and couldn't have realistically been home to over a hundred children. The joyous squeal of frolicking preteens filled the air as the reality truly hit home: barely a short interdimensional jump away, a throng of the universes' most detestable beings had made these very buildings, that very playground, and the entire area itself their home. It made the redhead grimace. And it made him know what had to be done.
"Last walk past, I chalked up at least five perimeter guards, plus what could be around fifteen, twenty lurking inside." So, not exactly slim pickings. "More than enough to go around." As for what they were... "Unfamiliar with the breeds, but it looked like a couple of varying types up there. Stronger ones are probably inside, they tend to keep the scouts in just incase they're lookouts," Why was he explaining Demon group tactics to someone who clearly had a better knowledge of them than he...? Either way, Lazarus shrugged. "Whenever you're ready, we'll cross."
((End the thread with your next post and I'll bring us into Inferis.))
"Sounds pretty complicated," The teen remarked in rebuttal, drawing up alongside his erstwhile comrade as they walked with a leisurely though driven pace - Blank's stride far more rigid and regimented than his own - towards the destination Laz had mapped out for them. "Though I'm sure the whole thing's lethal enough, eh?" With a knowledgeable grin he exchanged another glance with the one-eyed blonde. It was very much clear that with twenty years of experience this man was no stranger to combat: he would be a living weapon in his own right, and would have seen trauma the likes of which his pitiful month's experience could not so much as compare to.
The next question was one that surprised him a little. "So what are your evocations? You have a few I guess?" He half-wanted to deny Blank of a response and save it all for a great unveiling once they crossed - but that was far from decent of him, especially since his fellow Hunter had given him something of an explanation of his own abilities. So with a grin he scrolled through the arsenal he had at his disposal and took a long intake of breath before beginning to list them. As much as he tried to remain humble concerning Inferis - one of the more innate matters of life - he did at this point in time feel like showcasing his equipment, if only just a little.
"Well," He started, holding up an open, bare hand, and raising his index finger first. "I've got a pair of handguns which are pretty cool, they tend to work fairly well," He explained. Though, to be fair, the criteria for a functional handgun consisted of "makes loud noises" and "kills things". Both of which the Nomads did with exceptional prowess. "Then some weird ability to shout and make these big-ass explosive ring things," That was explaining it really well. Laz tried to make a hollowed-out circle with his hands roughly the size of the discs his Echo Trigger produced. He remembered the instance with the young solicitor and the... bird. Ugh. "A shotgun somewhere up there, too."
Then, finally, came the last one. He scratched his head; having not used it that much at all compared to the Nomads and the Trigger. "Then some earthquake stomp shit." With a vindictive grin he nodded in self-approval. "That one's really good fun." With that, he decided that there was cause for another addendum, letting his mouth hang open a little. The only other person who'd really heard about this was Yuuko; and it wasn't for any sort of shame or feeling as if it were a weakness, just that he hadn't really thought of it. It felt... natural, in Inferis.
"Over there," Laz began again, more slowly and cautious this time. "I see loud sounds as colours," The redhead shrugged, continuing to walk in an awkward silence for a moment, not really sure how else to describe it. "It's weird." Well, that worked, too. "I remember touching on it in an old Psychology class back home. It's called synaesthesia or something, like... a blending of the senses." And now for the significance of the whole explanation. "I'm not that knowledgeable about all my abilities and how they link together, but I think that's where they come from, y'know? Taking and using sound energy, I guess." Well this felt kind of like Buffyspeak.
It wasn't too long before their destination drew up in the distance. Laz took another glance towards the sky; it was closing up just about lunchtime, looked like. Gesturing towards a building that was soon barely a hundred metres or so in front of them and on the pair's right flank, the redhead refrained from pointing, simply subtly bobbing his head towards the structure and keeling off to the terraced street wall about twenty metres away. "That's our target." The teen murmured towards the prospective Nephilim member. "We'll not get too closer, just incase we start to look like sex offenders,"
Lazarus explained by jerking a thumb over his shoulder to a small white plaque that stuck out of the ground reading in bolded black writing: "St. John's School". Primary education. It was a little place; a couple of buildings two or three storey and a playground, a little worn down, and couldn't have realistically been home to over a hundred children. The joyous squeal of frolicking preteens filled the air as the reality truly hit home: barely a short interdimensional jump away, a throng of the universes' most detestable beings had made these very buildings, that very playground, and the entire area itself their home. It made the redhead grimace. And it made him know what had to be done.
"Last walk past, I chalked up at least five perimeter guards, plus what could be around fifteen, twenty lurking inside." So, not exactly slim pickings. "More than enough to go around." As for what they were... "Unfamiliar with the breeds, but it looked like a couple of varying types up there. Stronger ones are probably inside, they tend to keep the scouts in just incase they're lookouts," Why was he explaining Demon group tactics to someone who clearly had a better knowledge of them than he...? Either way, Lazarus shrugged. "Whenever you're ready, we'll cross."
((End the thread with your next post and I'll bring us into Inferis.))
Lazarus Carter- RISING CRESCENDO
(Founder) - Posts : 979
Join date : 2013-04-18
Age : 28
Location : Washington D.C. or London
Case File
Power Level: 3
Character Faction: Nephilim
Player: Ross -
Similar topics» Dead or Alive The Walking Dead [jcink, LB]
» Edwards, Blank
» Greetings, my new friends
» Normally Vacant [Avery/Lazarus]
» Eye seeee you [Daciana/Blank]
» Edwards, Blank
» Greetings, my new friends
» Normally Vacant [Avery/Lazarus]
» Eye seeee you [Daciana/Blank]
Deus Mortuus :: THE REAL WORLD :: LONDON
Page 1 of 1
Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
» Dav'Ris: A Fantasy World RP
» Fingers crossed
» Soul Eater DOOD
» Ninpocho Chronicles
» Defiance In Truth [LGBT Community In New York]
» Devil's Dalliance - An Animanga Supernatural RP
» Naruto: Tales of the Shinobi
» Four Beats To Madness