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Gladis

The Crystal Hunt

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Gladis

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The artificial sun was slowly beginning to set, bathing the godforsaken dump not even really worthy of the name ’city’ in a golden light. As the golden light became dimmer, the thousands of stars formerly hidden by the illusion of a gray sky would finally show themselves once more, creating a truly otherworldly picture. Andrew had always thought this time of day to be the most beautiful one. Or at least the closest to beauty he would get in this sort of world.

 

Breathing a deep sigh as he leaned against the gray cement wall, the blond dropped his gaze to the watch on his wrist. He had intensionally placed it over his cp tattoo in order to conceal how much he actually did possess. Amongst lower ranking citizens it had become a common technique. If they didn’t openly display how much time they had left, people were less likely to challenge them. Why exactly Andrew wasn’t entirely sure, but he supposed it may have to do with the mentality of the humanoid mind. If someone had a really low number displayed on their wrist, people were more likely to take them lightly and challenge them in order to easily gain more time. If the number was high enough to make them a threat, arrogant bastards would challenge them merely to get a kick out of beating down their bride. If they like Andre, kept it concealed, however; even if he were challenged he could more smoothly decide on a prize fatal to neither side. Well, at least not to himself. The challenger would have no right to argue, since they didn’t actually know how many cp Andrew possessed; and he wasn’t really obligated to tell them, either.

 

”Better get going, then,” the blonde youth mused as he stomped out the cigarette he’d just dropped to the ground. The setting sun meant that Blue Jack would get bussy soon enough. Whereas day time was usually quite dull, with only few visitors dropping in and out occasionally; the evenings tended to be more eventful. Although Andrew had considered hiring staff to help him out on numerous occasions, so far he hadn’t had much luck in finding a suitable candidate. Drawing a deep sigh, the blond male headed back inside.

 

✬ ✬ ✬

 

The sound of the store bell echoed through the bar.

 

Andrew glanced up from behind the bar counter, his lips quirking into a smile as a familiar face sat himself down on one of the red chairs, looking disgruntled as always. ”Good afternoon, sunshine,” Andrew greeted, blue orbs sparkling with mischief. He knew he was teasing his customer, but he couldn’t help it.

 

As usual the comment on Seiichi’s default expression earned Andrew a disgruntled snort, his tail twitching irritably. ”You shouldn’t be smiling like that. Makes you look like a fucking idiot,” the snow leopard muttered sullenly.

 

”Someone’s got to smile. If it ain’t you, I might as well,” Andrew finished wiping the glass he was holding, placing it under the counter before turning his attention to Seiichi once more. ”The usual, I’ll assume?” he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

 

”Hm,” that in Seiichi’s world was a solid answer.

 

Luckily Andrew had long since learned how to deal with Seiichi’s attitude and simply smiled, reaching for the vodka bottle. ”That will be 420 cp, then” Andrew said, extending his gloved hand towards the snow leopard. Something large was placed in his hand. It was cold and hard. Unlike Andrew’s, the surface was rough and almost unpleasant to the touch. The crystal itself was a icy blue, extremely reminiscent of Seiichi’s eyes. Crystals tended to be like that; almost acting like a representative for their owner.

 

Andrew and Seiichi both kept a close eye on the snow leopards cp timer. Once it reached the agreed sum, Seiichi readily removed it from Andrew’s grasp, once again slipping it around his neck before hiding it in the inside of his thick leather jacket. Like many others, he had attached it to a fairly strong looking iron chain.

 

Without further ado Andrew got to his task. From the corner of his eyes he could see more costumers dropping in through the door. It seemed rush hour had started.

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sVerrine

The sound of the loud banter pierced Klaus' sensitive ears as he approached languidly the bar. After spending 600 CP on a delicious meal of seared beef fillet, a few glasses of cognac seemed perfect for ending a long, strenuous day.

Klaus pushed the door open and glanced around with eyes that held nothing but boredom. He was looking for fun, but nothing seemed to be entertaining enough for his taste. With dismay, he let out a silent sigh and directed his attention to the barman.

 

A peculiar glint pervaded his eyes when he spotted the lithe blond man. Smirking, he walked assertively towards the bar, trying to catch the male's attention.

 

'Seems like coming to this bar was a good idea after all.'

 

He took a sit and glanced at the wide variety of bottles filling the shelfs. His eyes widen in surprise when he saw a particular bottle of brandy.

 

"A glass of brandy." Klaus spoke casually as his eyes never left the stacked shelfs. "It fits perfectly with my shitty day."

 

Then his eyes returned to their initial spot, checking discretely the barman.

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Gladis

@sVerrine

 

"A glass of brandy.It fits perfectly with my shitty day."

The blond bartender placed down the vodka cocktail before Seiichi as he heard the voice of another costumer. This one was a new face – though certainly not one he minded. Considering the kind of place he’d been locked into, the number of handsome faces was surprisingly large. Not that Andrew minded being surrounded by sexy men. Quite on the contrary – he was enjoying himself quite a bit.

 

”Coming right up,” he replied, slender fingers wrapping around the very brandy bottle Andrew had noticed Klaus looking at earlier. The young bartender was observant like that. He kept a good eye on his costumers actions, trying to please them to the best of his abilities. His life depended on it, after all. ”As for a shitty day – it happens to us all. If you want to talk about it I’m all ears,” Next he grabbed a moderately sized glass, plopped in a few ice cubes before adding the brandy and gently pushing it over to the costumer. His hands had worked swiftly and skillfully.

 

”240 cp,” Andrew said pleasantly, placing his open gloved hand next to the glass on the counter.

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Senketsu

Sounds of someone getting the the crap beaten out of them echo throughout an alley way. [Mordecai]:"All you..*hits man* had to do..*hits man*..was pay back..*hits man*..what you borrowed". Mordecai pulls out his cigarettes and lights one. [Man]:"P-please I don't have it!" [Mordecai]:"Really...huh? you know I'd respect that, if I couldn't see for myself that you do in fact have it, not only that you have nearly triple what of what you borrowed. So tell me did you hit your head or are you just stupid? No really I'd love to know, because you seem to have forgotten about this". He holds up the mans wrist and points to Cp tattoo.[Mordecai]:" You know, I am a rather understanding person but, God I hate liars." [Man]:"Huhaha*coughs*haha well shit looks like I couldn't pull a fast one over on you now could I?" Mordecai laughs at the man as he puts his cigarette out. [Mordecai]:"Don't feel to bad no one has been able to". Then Mordecai looks at the man with a serious look on his face. [Mordecai]:"Now, I think that was a long enough wait". He then begins to rip the man's clothes off as if he is looking for something.[Mordecai]:"Ah, there it is". Taped to the mans back was his crystal. Mordecai rips the crystal off the mans back and begins taking his Cps. The Man laughs as he sees his Cp number go down rapidly. Mordecai smirks at the man. [Mordecai]:"Don't worry, I'll leave you a week" [Man]:"fuck you, you crazy bastard." Mordecai smiles at the man then pulls out a knife. [Mordecai]:"Well since I'm a crazy bastard you get nothing". After draining all of the mans Cps Mordecai cuts the mans throat. Blood splatters across Mordecai's face and shirt. He wipes the blood from his face then lights a cigarette [Mordecai]:"Tch, you ruined my new shirt. He sighs as he looks at the man. [Mordecai]:"Well thanks for the extra Cps, I think I'll go get a drink on your dime hahahaha". Mordecai walks down the alley and on to a main street. [Mordecai]:"Hmmm where to go..Hmmm..Oh I know Drew's place is near by". Mordecai continues to walk toward Blue Jack. He arrives at Blue Jack and meets Erik at the entrance then they walk through the door.[Mordecai]:"Drew..buddy long time no see!" He walks over to Andrew at the bar.

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XiuLin

[Erik] Had come down to the meeting spot at Blue Jack. He manages to give him an playful wink before they both entered one after the other. He dodges and chuckles at the shattering of an broken glass. "Holy shit the mortars are flying again?!" His husky voice said in surprised amusement from being obliviously worn out due to moaning and or smoking. But he was back at Blue Jack and He says close by Mordecai and an distance away from the bar keep at all times. Just with his intro back after about and week away from the bar, he had quite the pleasing experience. But the whispers and gossip hasn't died down yet, nor the cat calls from the other men around the bar. "Will you feed me master? I've been kinda busy today for you." He said winking and quickly placing an kiss on Mordecai's cheek.

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andredmcampos

[Daisuke] entered the bar with a grin on his face. That day had been quite a... busy one, with three clients requesting his "services" all at once. Nothing he had not dealt with before, but that led to a problem. "Too fucking many" he said, as he lifted his wristband to check on the number. If he kept on accepting clients like that he would rise to expert in no time "and that", he thought, "would be attracting too much attention". There were quite a few different strategies on CP collection, but Daisuke was one of the few ones that did not want to increase his rank. See, Strugglers would be challenging each other all the time, too afraid to challenge people above them, Rookies and Deadmans would be challenged by higher rankers looking for an easy prey, Experts and Masters were challenged by people looking for jackpots and true challenges, leaving the Challenger Rank at a somewhat grey zone with almolst no challenges whatsoever.

 

And Daisuke liked things that way. He was not a challenger by merit of challenge, but rather by selling his services, wich allowed him to live a quite confortable and tranquil life, and that's how he wished things to keep on going. Tha being said, he would probably have to refuse any more customers on that day, or maybe accept customers that offer something other then CP.

 

Halfway to the bartender, a hand touched Daisuke's butt. He looked to the side, caressing the hand:

 

--Sorry, honey. Closed for the day.

 

The big guy let a sad groan escape his mouth ad Daisuke crossed the bar. He could feel the eyes on him. Most of them were eyes that greeded him, that wanted him, that had already consumed his services, and he like that. A few of them, however, were eyes that knew his true self and despised him for the crimes that got him there. Those he did not like. Those he would be much happier if they were dead.

 

--Andrew, darling, I'm in dire need of something cold and with a reasonable ammount of alcohol. Got anything for me? - he got a few strange looks on the 'darling' from people that didn't know him. It's not like he had anything with Andrew, he was like that to pratically everyone.

 

Well, Daisuke had plenty of CP to spend, being just done with a job. He waited for the blond guy to pay attention to him. Seldom would he live his house with his cristal, but he made sure to be safe when he did. His cristal was stored inside a false bottom to an inside pocket, stored inside a impact-resistant case that could only be opened with a password. It was not practical, but it was safe. Daisuke liked "safe".

 

--So - he said, as he noticed Andrew aproaching him - busy day?

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AlphaZero

Astor Michaelis eyed his half-empty glass of orange juice. One glass of it had cost him 200 cp; a bit pricey to say the least for some juice. Despite being in a bar, he always came just for the kiddie drinks. He wasn't old enough to buy alcohol, nor did he ever want to. He didn't know if there was a law for underage drinking here, but there was no need to know. He never had an interest in being an inebriate.

 

The Blue Jack was quiet and without much people; the busiest hour of the day hadn't started yet. It was Astor's best environment because of its lack of social situations. He was sitting in a dark corner, as usual. He glanced at the bartender behind the counter—blonde hair and blue eyes. The blonde was skilled at what he knew, his every move was made with precision towards the delicate drinks he handled.

 

Astor's thoughts were interrupted as the doorbell chimed indicating someone had entered. He observed as the Verdant said something inaudible and the Dorn's mouth moved soon afterwards. The Verdant took out his crystal and his life began draining literally right before his eyes. He had given part of his life away for a drink, just like Astor did. Astor began contemplating his situation at hand. He didn't have a job, and it seemed like having one was a convenient. He would be gaining part of his life back, even when he lost some. He began thinking about all the possible jobs he would be able to preform well in.

 

Killing, cooking, cleaning...

 

Astor's mouth met nothing but glass. Looking from the glass on his mouth to the emptiness of it, the red-eyed man thought about whether he should leave or get more. He decided on the latter; he could always get back the cp later. The moment the young man had stood up, the doorbell rang once again. Letting out a slight inner sigh, he realized that rush hour had began. He decided to wait until the bartender was finished with his new customers. He had nothing else to do today besides kill time.

 

I need to go grocery shopping for dinner.

 

There was that.

 

Half an hour had gone by since Astor had began waiting. He looked up from his book of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet slightly hoping that everyone had left the bartender. That wasn't the case. With a final last decision, he placed his book back into his pocket, grabbed his empty glass, and walked briskly to the man.

 

He positioned himself neatly before the counter and with a monotonous voice, relayed his order.

 

"Orange juice."

 

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sVerrine

"240 cp."

 

Klaus grabbed the glass, his eyes darting upwards as he placed his hand parallel with the bartender's, just a few inches apart. The number of required cps transferred in no time. Without retreating his hand, the man brought the glass closer, let the brandy's fragrance penetrate his nostrils and gave a jovial smile.

 

"Perfect." He then sipped from his glass, getting a feeling of pure contempt from the taste.

 

And while Klaus was trying to get a chance to win the blond over, the bar's door was forcefully opened and in a fleeting instant, the blond's hand retracted and a glass went flying a few inches near his face. The brunet's eyes had gone wide open as the sudden movement took him by surprise. Seeing the barman's range he glanced curiously at the door only two see two men, sticking intimately close to each other while approaching assertively.

 

"Drew..buddy long time no see!" One of them spoke in a loud voice. "Come on are you still mad at me for stealing your little Erik?"

 

Klaus rolled his eyes with disappointment. 'Great, a love quarrel. I have such a terrible luck these days.'The brunet decided to ignore the whole bunch and instead turned his gaze around the bar in a weak hope that there might still be something there for him to catch that night.

A petite young man, with brunet hair like him and unusual crimson eyes was getting close to the bar. Klaus watched him attentively as he quietly ordered a glass of orange juice.

 

'A minor?' Klaus furrowed his brows. 'Well, why not?' He embraced the thought and leaned on the counter in the man's direction, thinking of a way of getting his attention. He glanced around him and spotted effortlessly a book half-visible, nearly falling from the man's pocket. Klaus recognized instantly the title and smiled victoriously.

 

"Hello there." Klaus greeted. "In case you didn't, you should try Hamlet. It is by far Shakespeare's masterpiece." He offered a practiced smile and awaited for the man's answer.

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AlphaZero

"Hello there. In case you didn't, you should try Hamlet. It is by far Shakespeare's masterpiece."

 

Astor scrutinized the man leaning before the counter, awaiting his answer. The man's eyes were sharp and his hair was tied back into a tail. His smile was bright, but seemingly practiced. The smaller man turned his body around, glass cup in hand, to respond. His body's movements caused the book in his pocket to stumble out onto the ground.

 

As his body bent to the ground, his eyes subconsciously moved to meet a pair of peculiar grey eyes. The person standing before him was attractive, to say the least. Astor's stoic expression left much to the imagination. It was always hard to tell what he was thinking.

 

A pair of wandering hands slid past his bottom as the petite man stood back up.

 

Astor simply stared at the gruff man who had walked past by unknowingly and continued with his inscrutable eyeing. The hulk's hearty laugh turned meek and he left, feeling uncomfortable. He turned his attention back to the person still waiting for him.

 

Astor nodded in his direction, implying his answer. Despite that, he felt it rude not to voice out a reply.

 

"I have. It's good literature."

 

"So... busy day?" A man with red hair had begun talking to the bartender. Astor's orange juice would have to wait.

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Gladis

Andrew's lips curled into a slight smile at Klaus' words. It was always pleasant to see costumers enjoy themselves... though it seemed the costumers attention soon drifted as he turned to another costumer.

 

Right then, the bell announcing new visitors sounded through the bar.

 

Two sluts in the same place and all eyes are staring in either this or that way. Wonderful. Rejoice, gentlemen. Andrew couldn't help but sarcastically think this to himself as he saw first Erik enter, soon followed by Daisuke. Now, with Erik here that meant Mordecai also had to be... ah yes. There he was. The punk was headed straight towards the bar, followed by Erik as though the blonde were some kind of lost puppy. Not quite sure what to think of the entire spectacle, he simply flashed the two a business like smile.

 

"Drew..buddy long time no see!"

 

"And again with that awful pet name," he shook his head slightly. Although he would't have minded chatting, but there were other people needing his attention as well. Namely, Daisuke. Unless they intended to order something, Andrew had more important things to do – especially due to the bar being this busy. Perhaps he really should try to find someone trustworthy enough to work for him... but who? Although knowing a lot of people, Andrew wasn't quite sure he wanted any of them under him.

"Andrew, darling, I'm in dire need of something cold and with a reasonable ammount of alcohol. Got anything for me?"

 

"Coming right up," he mused, moments later letting a glass with a freshly mixed drink slide across the bar desk surface, "there you go. That'll be 300 cp..." barely had he uttered those words when he'd already gotten a new order. Orange juice? Well, it wasn't exactly a surprise, he supposed. Sometimes even minors would come visiting the Blue Jack and then he'd always make sure to have something ready for them. Even people of age would sometimes order something non alcoholic.

 

"So, busy day?"

 

"Not more so than usual," said Andrew as he poured some orange juice into a glass and slid it over to the black haired youth. "That'll be 150 cp," he announced calmly.

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sVerrine

Klaus piercing eyes followed the swift movements of the man who bent to grab the fallen book. He scrutinized the short exchange between him and the vulgar pervert in order to evaluate his chances of heading to a hotel later that evening. He was mildly disappointed to see that there wasn't much to read in the man's reaction, although he sensed a slight discomfort, but one that he wasn't ready to bet on.

 

"I have, it's good literature."

Klaus remained optimistic in his demeanor seeing that the man was at least willing to answer his question and not treat him with indifference.

"Well, it's a rarity to see people with a decent education around here. Usually it's the sturdy brainless perverted type that frequents the bars." Klaus flattered, but without speaking lies as he genuinely believed the words he had spoken. He wondered where to head this conversation as he sipped from the glass of liquor.

 

"So, what are your sins?" He inquired, deciding to settle for the usual banter. "I can tell from the swift, silent way you move that you are not the usual fellow."

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AlphaZero
"Well, it's a rarity to see people with a decent education around here. Usually it's the sturdy, brainless, perverted type that frequents the bars."

 

How true that was. Astor was quite surprised at how many men had tried to grope him ever since he'd come to like coming to the Blue Jack. It had lessened as the days continued. Astor had never reacted the way they had wanted him to, which probably got them bored. Because of the lack of education here, Astor had no companions. There was no logical reason for him to try to speak intelligently to someone who didn't even know the meaning to the word 'stupidity.'

 

Did he care? Not really.

 

"So, what are your sins? I can tell from the swift, silent way you move that you are not the usual fellow."

 

He wasn't wrong. Astor wasn't the 'usual' fellow, but more like a rarity that failed in his duty. Now, he has to suffer the consequences.

 

"Assassination and mass murder.", he said nonchalantly, as if it was as easy as making boiled water.

 

Astor was curious about this person. He didn't seem ignorant and surprisingly, the young male was able to keep a conversation with him without feeling the need to take out his gun.

 

"What did you do?", he asked in return.

 

"That'll be 150 cp."

 

The sudden voice coming from his left caused his attention to be drifted towards the male speaking.

 

Huh. He had payed 200 cp for his other glass around half an hour ago. Whatever, better for him. Astor turned towards the awaiting bartender and moved his hands towards his neck, grabbing the transparent string attached to his crystal hiding beneath the shirt collar. It did seem like it was an extremely bad placement choice, but hiding things in plain sight was considered the best technique into keeping things hidden. He was an assassin after all, or at least he used to be. He pulled it forward and waited for his cp to be drained.

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andredmcampos
"there you go. That'll be 300 cp..."

 

Daisuke knew that, if he was willing, he could just as well make a quick drama and get someone to pay for him. It would, in fact, not be the first time he 'seduced' someone in that aspect. But he did not have the disposition or will to do that right now, so he just went ahead and opened the fake bottom of his intern pocket. The dark purple crystal was emitting it's regular shadowy shine. Daisuke had no idea if what some people said about your crystal reflecting your personality was true or not, but he could see some aspects of himself in that tone. Well, that aside, he handled his crystal to the bartender so he could take the 300 CP.

 

Daisuke pulled up his sleeve to check on his CPs. He still got plenty. "On the verge, again" he thought to himself. Often, Daisuke would get too close to "Expert" Rank to be safe, so he had to find a way to reduce his CPs to get back on what he called "the safe zone" again.

 

As Daisuke was waiting for the proper ammount of CPs to be drained, he decided to pay attention on the conversation happening next to him.

 

Person A:"Well, it's a rarity to see people with a decent education around here. Usually it's the sturdy, brainless, perverted type that frequents the bars."

Person A:"So, what are your sins? I can tell from the swift, silent way you move that you are not the usual fellow."

Person B:"Assassination and mass murder."

Person B:"What did you do?"

 

Daisuke took back his Crystal as the bartender gave it back to him and put it back in his hidden pocket. He then walked the few steps separating him from the two guys chatting with his cup on hand, having a strange smile showing on his face. Interrupting their conversation, he proceeded to say:

 

--You guys would be a lot safer if You walked around with a coat illustrated with a target and a "Please challenge me" sign. The noise in the place might cover up your conversation from most people, but there are some here that excel at spionage, and then there are people that are close to you and can hear you even if they do not wish to. Therefore, presenting yourself to people as a tempting target might not be the best of strategies.

 

He was saying that, but he knew as well that even by doing that people could look at him and imagine that he could be a tempting target since he noticed that much. Then again, there were more then a few people owing him favors that he could run to in case a fight breaks up. The first guy was right, most of the people in the bar were of the "Sturdy, Brainless, Perverted" profile, but that was a great thing for a manwhore. In case the both of them took offense in his warning, they seemed to be just as good at fighting as him, The smallest one seemed to have a small body with few muscles, wich meant no brawling skills at all, the higher one was too thin to be able to braw properly, also, allthough he did have some muscles, they seemed to be just for show. Daisuke himself was no brawler either, but he got that covered from at least three tables on that very bar. "Sturdy, Brainless, Perverted". "Yea", he thought, "but I learned to use them very well, thank You".

 

"They seem interesting", he thought, "might as well keep them on my radar".

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~*~FaLlEn*SnOw~*~

Nyx was, to say simply, pissed. But then again, there wasn't a time when he wasn't annoyed, angry, or some other negative emotion. Well, actually there was. When he was by himself and didn't have to deal with idiots. Or had his hands on something electronic with a hard drive for a main brain.

 

His tail twitches back and forth as he stared into the bar area, his ears pressed back against his skull, and his fur like hair bristled with annoyance. Why was he pissed? He was angry....with himself. He'd decided he needed a break, a change of pace from the usual staying in his room locked away by himself, staring at glowing screens of dozens of different electronic devices.

 

But now that he stood there, he realized he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. Nyx was terrible at communicating with others, his social skills were literally at level zero. And as his slitted neon green/yellow eyes scanned the room, and saw the many conversations going on, he began to wonder why he'd even left his room. Left his house. Well, apartment.

 

Nyx forces himself to move forward, his nerves on edge. Now, if this were a place filled with high tech equipment...he'd be just fine. Another step further, and he allows the door to close behind him. His hands were curled tightly at his sides, though one moves up to tug at the furred collar of his jacket, moving it ever so slightly, so it brushed the bottom of his face.

 

"Why I bothered coming out...I have no fucking clue...I should leave while I'm ahead..." He murmurs this, as he carefully steps further forward. What was he supposed to do in situations like this?

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sVerrine
"Assassination and mass murder."

 

Klaus noticed the detachment naturally accompanying the response the man offered without a second thought. The fact that the other was a killer didn't bother him. They all were. But the way he regarded his actions stirred Klaus deep inside. He couldn't decide if he was bothered, by the fact alone, or curious to find out more. Either way, the feeling was the source of his present excitement.

 

"What did you do?"

 

Klaus opened his lips to answer, but another man decided to join their conversation.

 

"You guys would be a lot safer if You walked around with a coat illustrated with a target and a "Please challenge me" sign. The noise in the place might cover up your conversation from most people, but there are some here that excel at spionage, and then there are people that are close to you and can hear you even if they do not wish to. Therefore, presenting yourself to people as a tempting target might not be the best of strategies. "

Klaus' eyes narrowed as the man insistently continued his speech. He rapidly grew bored with the man's words and his flippant manner when expressing them.

 

"How kind of you to show such deep concern for strangers." Klaus stated him a hint of sarcasm. "But it's unnecessary, really. " Klaus continued with an apparent blase attitude, but his piercing glare never left the intruder's side. Instinctively, he felt there was something about this man that bothered him, put he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

 

"Isn't that so?" Klaus shifted his gaze as he addressed to his juice-drinking companion. He secretly wished for the man to also be bothered by the other's presence and to want to return to their private conversation.

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Tacita_Virtus

Sitting quietly by himself in a corner, a glass of alcohol held between his hands, Romano Giovanni might as well have been invisible. Despite his presence there, not a single person had noticed him. And to be honest, that was how he preferred it. Close enough to hear the conversations, but distanced and hidden so as not to be spotted. Besides, even if he had been seen, Romano was confident no one would say anything, he was rather plain looking. Even his clothing was plain, a blue uniform, his old police outfit, just without the badge and patches on the sleeves. All he retained from his past occupation was the clothing on his back, a few pieces of his equipment, and his handgun.

 

So, saying this much, he wasn't one to bring much attention to himself. The only thing about him that was unique were his eyes.

 

A stormy grey blue, a mix of emotion. Seemingly on the verge of breaking internally, clouds rolling in over the edge of the sea, threatening to turn into a hurricane. All his thoughts, all his secrets, everything he hid, could be reached within the door that his eyes provided.

 

The conversations around him were varied, but as he heard one certain person tossing the words 'mass murder' around as if it meant nothing, he turns his head ever so slightly, glancing at the one who had said it. As he sat there, his gaze locked on the individual, his grip upon his glass tightens.

 

"Murder...yeah, I know what it's like..."

 

Muttering this quietly to himself, turning his gaze away, the word continued to ring in his ears, reverberating in his head like someone had brought a pair of cymbals together right next to him. His hand squeezes harder, and without realizing it, the cup shatters, his drink sloshing onto his gloved hand, snapping him from his reverie.

 

Looking down, he stares at his alcohol covered hand, seeing that a piece of glass had pierced into his palm, blood now dripping down the sharp edge to the table, and mixing in with the liquid he'd been drinking. Sighing, he frowns, disappointed at the loss of his beverage, more than the fact he had glass stuck in his hand. Without even thinking, he plucks the glass from his hand, tossing it onto the table.

 

"Ouch..."

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AlphaZero
"You guys would be a lot safer if You walked around with a coat illustrated with a target and a "Please challenge me" sign. The noise in the place might cover up your conversation from most people, but there are some here that excel at spionage, and then there are people that are close to you and can hear you even if they do not wish to. Therefore, presenting yourself to people as a tempting target might not be the best of strategies. "

 

"How kind of you to show such deep concern for strangers, but it's unnecessary, really. Isn't that so?"

 

Astor, despite not having his gaze on the conversation between the two males besides him, could sense the annoyance and caution in the man he was speaking to before, and the interest the other male's tone seem to show. The hand on his crystal seemingly began to forget about its purpose from before, which was to pay for his orange juice and dropped back to his side, and his attention was averted from the blond bartender's to the stormy, grey eyes awaiting his answer.

 

"Yes, I agree. I have no need for unnecessary concern." The concern he had needed died a year ago along with his work.

 

As Astor reminded himself to watch out for his cup, his left hand moved to the transparent necklace on his neck and placed it back into the dark crevices of his onyx, collared shirt, once again hiding it from view. He began to look between the two men, his red eyes moving from side to side, and stopped at the new appearance of the person that seemingly loved to give advises to random strangers, as Pony had said.

 

That nickname seemed to fit him, the pony tail he worked is what gave Astor the name. Was it rude? Yes. Was it convenient? Yes. It was a replacement for not knowing Pony's name.

 

As his silent gaze locked onto the individual before him, the man's red hair reminded him of a time when a certain someone had commented on his devil's eyes, so it was called by said person. Once, long ago when he was at the age ten, one of Astor's family friend had bluntly told him that his gaze could make anyone sweat from just the pressure that the boy embedded into his red blood eyes, and told him to stop doing that.

 

He never could.

 

"Some human beings aren't scared enough to be rational," Astor said in a nonchalant tone. The reply was meant to be one of logic, because what he said was right. He wasn't scared enough of this prison to want to take such precise caution. It was a waste of time. In fact, his days at Junketsu were pretty relaxing, despite the killings that he made here and there.

 

He was sure that the male with the same colored eyes that Astor possessed, would deem him as being rude for suggesting that he was a chicken like many others have done whenever he told them what he thought, but he wasn't doing that in the least. Again, logic took over his sensitivity.

 

The bar door chimed, revealing a Verdant with bright emerald eyes, and once again, red hair. From the looks of it—Astor noticed—the guy did not want to be here. Astor stared at the individual for some time before trying get back to the main situation at hand, paying for his orange juice. Everything was a distraction at this point. Before he could make it the counter however, a loud sound resounded towards his ears, enough to make him stop his hand that was reaching for his crystal in midair.

 

A policeman had crushed his glass of alcohol, and to make it even more interesting, pulled a glass shard sheathed deep within his palm and threw it on the table. It was as if he felt no pain and from the looks of his expression, felt more remorse for wasting his drink than the pain from the injury. The blood began to drip slowly down his palm and onto the table, coloring it with the darkest red he knew. The glass laid in pieces beyond repair.

 

Mr. Policeman was going to have to pay for that.

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Gladis

Seated in the back of the bar was a young man, appearing to be in his mid twenties. His peculiar magenta eyes were focused on the glass of wine between his palms, a look of discontentment drawn across his features. Why? Because this wine was far from the quality he had gotten used to in recent years. It was too bitter and definitely hadn't been allowed to sit long enough to reach it's full potential. Nevertheless, he never once uttered these thoughts out loud. He wasn't here to draw attention to himself, after all, but rather to keep an eye on that one Verdantian soldier. Somewhat famous for attracting trouble to himself, Seiichi had managed to get himself on Vincent's 'watch list' quite soon after joining them at Junketsu City. Since his face wasn't exactly unknown among the prisoners, sending Isaiah was rather risky. Yet as long as he made sure to dress like most people in this district, and didn't make too much of a nuisance, it would be fine. It wasn't like Seiichi wasn't aware of that he was being watched, after all.

 

Breathing a soft sigh, the young adult downed the rest of his wine, just about to get up when a rather quiet 'ouch' reached his ears. He shifted his gaze to the young police man also sitting rather secluded from the rest, the view of his bleeding hands causing a rather strange look to flash across his face. Almost as though it were a mixture of amusement and pity. Mr. Giovanni was, for the most part, a good guy and not exactly what Vincent would consider a threat. In all honesty, he appreciated the fact that people like him existed in a place such as this.

 

Isaiah almost felt inclined to at least see if he was alright – yet before he had time to act and much to his surprise, Seiichi of all people beat him to it. Without breathing even a single word, the white haired Verdant offered the young policeman a cloth to do something about his bleeding hands.

 

Isaiah's gaze rather curiously traveled to the bartender, who seemed way too busy catering to his costumers to even notice the broken glass. How would he react? Demand replacement? CP? Challenge him? As far as Isaiah had understood, the young blond wasn't really that kind of person. He seemed, despite how dislikable that quality of his was; rather laid back. At least it also meant that he was calm and less likely to stir up trouble. At least so Isaiah hoped.

 

Shaking his head, the young man stifled a yawn. It seemed like this would be an eventless evening after all.

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Ariesa

Claude came out of the bathroom, his dark hair a mess. The raven locks covering one of his blue eyes as he took out a cigarette and a lighter. Lighting the caner stick and putting it between his pale lips. Taking a puff of the harmful smokes. A few drops of a ruby red liquid dripping from his fingertips, and he quickly wiped it off on his black jeans. He didn't mean for the mess to get on him, oh well. A man came out of the bathroom as well on shaky feet. A drunk look on his face. He looked at the man, smiling brightly from ear to ear at how the guy looked like a mess. Clothes ripped up, marks all over his body, he couldn't even get his breathing in check. "Well," Claude began. "Thanks for playing with me again."

 

But before he could walk away, the man grabbed his wrist. Something flashed in his eyes from being grabbed so suddenly, though the emotion quickly disappeared. He looked over at his companion, smile still in place has he raised an eyebrow in question. "When...When will I get to see you again?" The male wanted to roll his eyes at his toy's stupidity. Great, the other became attached. Mask still in place, he answered in a light tone, "Whenever you're needed again."

 

Trying, once again to walk away from the man, the grip on his wrist tightened. Keeping him in pace once again. This was annoying him. But he's a God, Gods don't have any need for such irrelevant things. "And when will that be?" This man was desperate, Claude had to give him that. "Who knows, it depends really." After a few seconds, the man let go of his wrist with hesitation. Leaving he bar with wobbly steps as he did so.

 

Claude took another puff from his cancer stick as his smile vanished into thin air.

 

He looked around the bar, examining the people who accompany it. The male was disappointed to see that none of his pawns interested him today. Taking another puff of his cigarette, he strolled over towards the bar. Siting down and resting his arms on the counter.

 

Claude has been in this prison for almost a year now, killing and using the ones who will benefit in this hell. Though it was his hell, a place that keeps him on his toes. It excites him, even the people who lived here. They become so trusting as soon as you show some kindness or empathy. Or even the tiniest of interest. But for the past day, he's become bored with his humans. He didn't know why, but, nothing really excites him anymore besides the killing. Which he was afraid will bore him soon as well. He looked over when he saw someone hurt themselves. Hands bleeding from broken glass. How clumsy. He waved the blonde bartender down.

 

"Balkan 176 Proof Vodka," he said in a low tone. Staring off into space as he took the cancer stick out of his mouth and put it out against the counter. The sound of it sizzling and the chatter in the bar annoying him, but he pushed the feeling back. Straightening up his back as he glanced over at the people having a conversation next him. Two of them seemed kind of annoyed by the third company. Seems logical to him.

 

And yet, Claude was still not entertained. But he listened to their talk despite that.

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Tacita_Virtus

For the shortest time, Romano remained as he was, staring at the spot upon the table, blood continuing to trail down his hand, mixing in with the drink that was now dripping to the floor. His eyes however averted from the mess when a hand reaches out to him, holding a cloth, as if offering it for his injury. Looking from the hand holding the cloth, upward, his eyes land upon a white haired Verdant. It seemed as if Romano was going to either say something, or refuse the gesture, but after a moment he cautiously reaches out and takes the cloth.

 

"Thank you."

 

His voice was quiet, soft, hiding the raging sea of emotion inside of him, deterring away the pain he almost felt in his hand. Ever since that day, Romano had been numbed, keeping his feelings locked inside. Sensing nothing, reverting deep within himself, appearing as nothing more than an empty shell, the only sign that he was still alive being his eyes. It was apparent that Romano preferred to be silent, not talking.

 

Pulling off his glove, he pressed the cloth to his hand, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. Once done, he pulls a roll of medical bandage from one of his pockets, and wraps it tightly around the wound, tying it off with a knot. He'd noticed, that, unfortunately for him, breaking the glass had gained him some looks, which wasn't what he wanted, not in the least.

 

Standing, placing his torn glove in his pocket along with the extra medical bandages, he gathers up the pieces of glass, and thanks the Verdant again, before reluctantly walking over to the main bar, waiting for the bartender to serve a customer, now within arms length of the individual who'd been talking about murder as if it was a pass time, or something more like a hobby. Once the tender, a blonde, was finished, he speaks up, placing the glass upon the counter.

 

"I apologize for breaking one of your glasses. If you wish, I'll replace it, or pay you in CP. It was never my intention to ruin your property."

 

His voice had a rather interesting accent to it, making it another reason why Romano did not like talking very much. The whole while he felt a pair of eyes upon him, and he looks around carefully, spotting someone with rather uniquely colored magenta eyes, quickly turning away. He focuses once more upon the bartender, reaching into a specially placed pocket, ready to pull out his crystal if he was asked to pay. Romano hated bringing attention to himself, so standing there was starting to make him a bit nervous.

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Bishie

Chop. Chop.

 

The sound was an eerie echo throughout the dimly lit, meager kitchen. To the outside ear, it would have been enough to send a fierce shiver down the spine, but to Sebastian, it sounded like home. The rhythmic slicing of the knife through large chunks of meat was entrancing to him, captivating him, and each time the blade slid down to hit the wooden board, his grin widened even further, bringing tiny dimples to his pale, ageless face.

 

Tonight, he wouldn't just eat; he would eat like a king. A practiced hand reached up to slide the meat across the board and into an empty container, and he set his knife down to move it to the freezer. The air hit his face with a bitter chill, making his ears twitch and lie back against dark, raven-colored hair, and he set the meat inside to join the rest. Calculating eyes measured the amount that he had within seconds, before narrowing with the slightest hint of satisfaction. It was nearly a weeks savings; tens of thousands of CP worth of body parts, all prepared and frozen nicely just for one late dinner that he would be having tonight.

 

You see, it was a special occasion, and one that he sacrificed his time for every year. It was almost like a celebration, one that he had in remembrance of the life and death of his mother. For without her, he wouldn't be here, and without her, he wouldn't be doing what he was doing. The men that he sliced into little pieces probably weren't so thrilled, but it's not like he ever stopped to ask for the opinion of mere animals. The cow that you slaughter you do without regrets, without hesitation, just to feed off of and to sell. But there is one difference between a simple cow, and human beings:

 

The cow is innocent.

 

And with that thought, Sebastian shut the door of his freezer, and locked it up tight.

 


He hated the streets. He hated how dirty they were, how disgusting and polluted they were, and most of all, he hated the people. He hated when passing bodies brushed against his sides, pushing and shoving, even if there was more than enough room to go around. Sebastian always felt terribly sick during his walk to and from wherever he needed to go, but there wasn't much travel options for him to choose from, especially not in this godforsaken dump they called a city.

 

He always tried to stick to the shadows, and take the path less traveled by. Despite that, there was never a time without anyone seeming to recognize him, and stare at him with a scared, spiteful look. Those were the people who knew, and chose to judge him without even having spoken to or interacted with him. Not like Sebastian would ever want to, anyway-- but as much as he'd rather avoid them, he made a mental note to track them down later and find out where they got their information from.

 

The last thing he wanted was to be caught by surprise. He needed to understand all of his enemies; all of their thoughts, actions and movements. Being caught by surprise is being caught without a plan, so he had to stay one step ahead of the rest at all times. If that meant being on guard twenty-four seven, then so be it. There were too many eyes on him to relax for even a moment, and the second he did would be the second he lost his crystal.

 

Self-consciously, his hand curled around the maroon colored object deep in the pocket of his sweatshirt. He felt it's smooth complexion without stopping to wonder what it all meant. He was only aware of how much CP he had left, putting him just at the edge of Challenger and Expert, and how much he was losing as the days passed by. That's all that truly mattered. He needed to stay alive. He had to stay alive. His survival instincts were stronger than the rest of the animals in this city, and it's what was going to keep him on his feet. They haven't failed him once.

 

Faintly, he recalled his mother, and the way her organs tasted after the time they had spent cooking out in the sun.

 

His lips quirked. Tonight was a night of celebration. He, at the very least, deserved a half decent glass of wine, and he knew just the right place to buy one. While Sebastian was never one for bars, considering how crowded and exposed they made him feel, he couldn't find better drinks any other place. It was well worth the risk he took going, and he had already decided long beforehand that he would stop by at the Blue Jack before dinner.

 

As the distance narrowed between him and the bar, he caught sight of just how many people there were. It was almost enough to make him turn and walk all the way back. The bar was filled to the brim with criminals; most likely, they were currently at the peak of rush hour, and everyone was crowding around and trying to get their drinks. He recognized very few of the men loitering outside, smoking cigarettes and littering burning ashes upon the ground, and the cannibal barely paid them a single glance as he made his way past. Fortunately for them, they kept to their own business, talking quietly amongst themselves, and Sebastian was allowed to make it through the doors without conflict.

 

The thought of germs having been rubbed off on his hands made him immediately dispose of his gloves in the nearby trash can, and he pulled on new ones from his pocket quickly. Sebastian tried not to care that the bell and his actions were bringing unwanted attention to him, and he only stopped for a moment to look around. There was a single red chair open at the front bar, but the current crowd surrounding it made the thought of sitting there even more distasteful than it already was. Hovering awkwardly, he was well aware of how much time he was wasting, and he couldn't help but wish that there was a way to get his drink and leave without having to interact with a single soul at this bar.

 

If only. He sighed quietly to himself, deciding to just suck it up for once; he moved to stand at the very edge of the bar, a group of dangerous looking four-year-olds sitting directly beside him. The tip of his tail flicked back and forth with irritation, and as soon as there was a break in the loud conversation, gave the bartender his order.

 

"I'll take the finest glass of wine you have, and make it quick."

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~*~FaLlEn*SnOw~*~

Despite being quiet, someone spots him, and he freezes, just for a moment, before slinking forward again, not bothering to stop by the bar. He just wanted to be alone, but was forcing himself to do this. A sigh of annoyance escapes his lips, his ears flicking back at the sound of glass breaking, but says nothing of it, nor shows any sign of recognition to the noise. Instead, he moves on, sitting in a chair in a corner, which was shaded, and stares out at the scene in front of him.

 

Crossing his legs beneath him, his eyes were captured by the sight of white, and he looks over, seeing a Verdant with long white hair, handing a cloth to what appeared to be a police guy. Nothing much was said between the two, and Nyx looks away, as more people came in, one coming from a room with another, looking as if something had gone on between them, another coming in from the door he just entered, acting as if germs were going to kill him.

 

This place just kept getting weirder and weirder, and he sighs. The police guy gets up, and walks to the bar, and with his excellent hearing, he was able to pick up everything that was said, making him sneer in disgust. Do-gooders. Even in a hell hole like this, there were those few who were like that guy. Soft, putty like, and plain annoying. It got to him, but he never let it show. None of these guys were anything like what he was into. Which was electronics.

 

However, despite himself thinking that, his eyes kept reverting to the white hair of that Verdant. Nyx didn't admit it, but second to the color red, the color white was something he liked. The purity, the gentle cleanliness of it. It reminded him of snow, or the favorite white flowers his mother grew in a garden where he'd grown up. "This is stupid...this fucking sucks...I don't even know why...I even came here. Maybe it would be best if I just went back home and got back to work on that order..."

 

For the right price, and if given the equipment to do so, Nyx was sometimes willing to make things for other players. He had to gain CP somehow right? He knew there were other ways of going around and getting them, but he'd rather get the crystal doing what he enjoyed, rather than fighting pointlessly. Not that he didn't mind a fight here and there, he'd just rather not risk his life.

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AlphaZero

"Balkan 176I apologize for breaking one of your glasses. If you wishwine you have, and make it quick."

 

Astor, was in a definite predicament. Too much orders were coming in, too many people were crowding around him, it was getting too hot with the carbon dioxide in the air, everything happening around the counter at this point got in the way of him paying for his orange juice, which then got in the way of him leaving, which then got in the way of his grocery shopping time, which then got in the way of his eating time; the list went on and on and on.

 

The frustration growing deep within his mind did not show in his facial expressions, nor did it show in his body movements. What Astor did show, was a neutral expression staring at his drink that had been left untouched for a while—which most likely would have gone lukewarm by now—and making it seem as if he wanted to burn holes into it with just his red eyes. He contemplated just taking the thing and then paying for it later, but disregarded the idea just a few seconds later. Just taking it would cause him meaningless trouble, even if the tender did seem like he wouldn't bat an eye towards a drink borrower.

 

Astor then took his eyes off the drink and looked about at his surroundings. One man had his hair mushed up and his fly down, the same policeman who had broken the glass was within arms length of himself asking for forgiveness, and a new one had appeared smelling like he bathed himself in blood and slept with decaying human flesh daily. The smell would usually leave most people feel sick to their stomachs, but because Astor was an experienced elimination savant, the smell didn't seem to faze him in the least.

 

The seat Astor had occupied earlier was now surrounded by heavily drunk, horny men. Going there for some peace and quiet was out of the question. Every booth that came into his view was preoccupied in one way or another. One place in the back of the bar however, held only one pair of magenta eyes. Maybe... just maybe, he could go there, ask to sit, wait until the people around the counter left, then finally be able to pay for the juice, then escort himself out. Sure he was considered a criminal, but in his lists of 'bad' deeds, being a person that didn't pay for his juice after he ordered it was not one of the items.

 

Before he left, something came over him however. He felt the need to make comments towards the people around him. There was a certain elegance in the way that these men held themselves, and he wanted to make contact with them before leaving.

 

Turning to the right of him, he glanced at the bloody hand bandaged by a cloth and spoke in a low voice slightly laced with a small amount of amusement.

 

"Be careful next time, Mr. Policeman. Broken glass hurts."

 

Turning to the left of him, he spoke in the same tone to the darkly clad Verdant, still laced with the same amount of humor.

 

"You reek of blood, though the scent does fit you well."

 

He then began to walk around the blood-scented Verdant and to the person that had ordered a Balkan 176... something. His eyes glanced down at the lock still unlocked by its key, the zipper, then looked back up to its oblivious owner.

 

"Your fly is down."

 

Yes, what he did just then was most likely considered weird, but really, who was he to care? Junketsu was a prison filled with criminals with abnormalities. Astor was just another one of those criminals. Amusement slightly overwhelmed his mind as he sauntered over—leaving his juice behind—to the the male that looked as if he was the optimum of sophistication, the one sitting alone in the back of the bar holding a glass of wine and sporting a look of slight discontentment for some unknown reason. The man seemed rather bored actually, and it seemed as if the situation was in Astor's favor. Being bored might mean that he wouldn't mind a little quiet company, which means the other male would be able to grab a seat.

 

Reaching his destination to the table in the back of the bar, he eyed the other chair located across the occupied one.

 

"May I sit here?"

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Ariesa

Claude looked around the bar, watching the criminals chatter loudly and flirt in a none subtle. He sighed. Well, they were his humans. Boring, but, still his toys. His eyes drifted to a guy that walked towards him, making small talk. He's never seen this toy before, then again, this jail was huge. He has yet to see all of his pawns, and this guy seems to be one of them. Before he could start his game of lies, he was taken aback but what the man said. Now wasn't he a blunt one. But it did irritate him, and again, he squished the irrelevant feeling down. Giving the stranger a sheepish look before zipping up his pants. Running his fingers through his curly black hair.

 

When the guy was gone, however, the sheepish look vanished from his face. Being replaced a look of pure boredom and borderline murderous. Though he was quick to hide it with a roll of his eyes, taking out another cigarette and lighting it. He was starting to notice how such irrelevant things such as emotions were starting to surface more and more.

 

He took a puff from the cancer stick, eyes looking up at the ceiling. Maybe he should kill again and stop this boredom. That's a thought, or mess with one of these humans in this bar. That appealed to him more.

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