|
Post by victoria on Sept 26, 2009 13:44:04 GMT -5
Mana walked into the ghetto, wearing running sneakers, a pair of black cargo pants, and a gray form-fitting cotton hoodie. On her back was a hard-shelled small backpack, a thin cable stretching from it into her hoodie and up to her ears, where classical music blasted into her ears. Today's playlist included choir music by Mozart, and performances by the Britannian Symphony... since it was the easiest music to get. She'd much rather hear the German Orchestra, but getting such music was rather difficult at the time.
Mana did a few quick stretches, ignoring the pedestrians as they looked at her kinda funny. She tied her hair back in a ponytail, raising her hoodie up and putting on wrap-around sunglasses. She began to walk, heading into an alley and looking around calmly. She took a deep breath and then broke into a run. She ran straight to a corner of the alley and jumped, kicking off the wall and turning mid-air, grabbing onto the railing of a fire escape. She redirected the momentum of the downward pull of gravity to her legs, kicking off the edge of the fire escape platform and leaping up to the railing of the platform above. There she kicked off again, this time landing on the platform itself and running up the stairs. She reached the highest section, summer-saulting onto the roof of the building and breaking into a run again. She reached the edge of the building, leaping to the next rooftop of the next building, landing with a roll...
This was Mana's favorite type of exercise... parkour. She had picked up on this trend back in EU, and found it not only addicting and exhilarating, but incredibly convenient in situations that required her to escape pursuit. She loved practicing it whenever she had down-time, and by now she had become quite skilled at it.
|
|
|
Post by victoria on Sept 28, 2009 0:20:22 GMT -5
After a few hours of running and acrobatics Mana was done for the day. She landed in an alley, taking a few deep breaths. She did a few stretches, taking her earphones off and slipping them into her backpack. She took off the backpack and the hoodie, revealing a burnt-orange tank top. She shoved the hoodie back into her backpack and slipped it back onto her shoulder, walking out of the alley while lighting a cigarette. Exercise always cleared her mind... not like she couldn't clear it by meditating, but she much rather stay in shape while focusing. Mana had already fanned the flames by planting the bombs in Clovisland. Now she had to plan the next piece of her symphony. Right now her main issue was deciding weather to plant more bombs, or weather to begin her work as an anonymous informant.
Mana made her way to a small family restaurant, getting a bottle of water and a rice roll. She made her way to a table in a corner, back against a wall, so she could see the entire room. Mana kept thinking of her plots. She was very familiar with the Britannian army and their reactions. The Black Knights, however... all she knew was what she had read in history books, and she knew better than to believe everything she read in history books. All that information was edited, altered, and idealized by whomever was victorious, whomever published it. The Black Knights... it wasn't the fact they were self-righteous, but the fact they were so powerful that made them so unique. Of course, that was 100 years ago. Who knows how they were now. The easiest road would be to plant another bomb somewhere more strategic. Ashford academy came to mind... but getting through would prove difficult, even for Mana. No... she needed to find a way to leak information to Britannia now. They were the ones she knew how to manipulate the best.
|
|
|
Post by vierre on Sept 28, 2009 16:43:04 GMT -5
((I am biting off way too many threads to chew >< Oh well!))
Vierre lifted the large ceramic mug to his lips, sipping the dark coffee slowly. Wispy tendrils rose from the liquid, dancing with the cool ambient air then dissipating into nothingness. Dressed in his civilian clothes, he had been enjoying a day away from his Black Knight responsibilities, and away from the exuberance of some of his more eager subordinates. He was more than pleased to have such dedicated and hard working men and women in the First Division, but sometimes even they could wear out their normally equally zealous captain. Sometimes the man known for leaping first and finding a suitable landing later needed some time off.
From his circular table near the back of the restaurant, he could look out the large portrait window at the front of the restaurant and the main door, as people walked in and out. The day light outside glistened with an overpowering intensity compared to the dimmer lighting of the restaurant interior. A woman dressed in an orange tank top stopped outside the restaurant. Vierre watched her take the cigarette dangling from her lips and extinguish it. The bell on the door jingled as it swung open, and she stepped in. The breeze from outside slipped in, swirling at the entrance. From behind his mug of coffee, he continued to examine her. She wasn’t Japanese, and looked to be either EU or Britannian-born, like himself. She also appeared to have just come from a workout. An idle thought ran through Vierre’s mind as he, without intending to, began piecing the minor observations together. Perhaps it wasn’t possible to truly take a day off.
The woman stood out in the small family restaurant, probably as much as Vierre stood out. He looked away as she passed his table and took a seat in a nearby corner table to his side, placing her back to the wall. Vierre hid a smirk with another sip of coffee. She was either fiercely private or someone who needed complete control of a situation—to keep an eye on her entire surroundings. Maybe both.
Vierre lowered his mug delicately back onto the wooden table. The table wobbled slightly on uneven legs, knocking against the floor with a flat thud. “Those things will kill you, you know,” he said abruptly, calling from his table to hers. He was letting his thoughts vocally escape now, without any apparent shame. He did not turn to face her though, and simply continued to look straight ahead towards the front of the restaurant. He took another short sip then continued. “Cigarettes I mean. I can only imagine that following a workout with a smoke must be counterproductive. Or at the very least a contradiction.” And that was why the woman had caught his interest. She seemed like she might be a fascinating contradiction.
|
|
|
Post by victoria on Sept 28, 2009 18:30:33 GMT -5
"In this day and age cigarettes should be the least of your health concerns." Mana said a bit absently, taking a drink of her water, "And as a matter of fact smoking opens the alveoli in the lungs, making for a momentary increase on the intake of oxygen. Ironic as it may be that this effect was intentionally meant so the lungs will also absorb more of the chemicals in the cigarette and perpetuate an addiction to them." she laughs, "but now I'm just splitting hairs..." Usually going into one of her rants was enough to make people stop talking to her. She had glanced at Vierre on her way in, reason why she didn't look at him while talking. Instead she focused on her water and rice roll.
|
|
|
Post by vierre on Sept 28, 2009 19:25:03 GMT -5
“Hmph.” Vierred laughed quietly. A rant did little to deter him. If anything, it only encouraged him. Inhibition wasn’t much of a factor when something piqued his interest. “I’m no doctor. Just a simple trader of small foreign goods. Souvenirs and treasured trinkets, if you will,” he lied entirely conscious of the fact that the care and quality spoken by the threads and stitching in his pressed shirt and dress pants, both expertly tailored to his tall frame, said otherwise. He was curious if she would notice, and if so, if she would call his bluff. “I will have to take your honest word for it, though the cynic in me is not surprised. Still, cultivating a chemical addiction seems like a poor trade off for some short term increase in… oxygen intake.” The mug rose to his lips for a drink, emptying it as the waitress came by to offer a refill of coffee. Vierre finally looked at the woman again, turning his head only part way towards her. “But I suppose you may be right. This day and age… startingly identical to the previous day and the previous age. It is dangerous, isn’t it? War time often does not discriminate. Blind like love, hmm? One wonders if love is but another kind of war.” Another clockwork sip of coffee. With his perfect deadpan delivery, it was hard for others to determine whether or not Vierre believed the apparent non-sequitur nonsense that came out of his own mouth. Of course, as a high ranking officer among the Black Knights, his words were laced with double meanings for himself. For the average citizen, however, talk about the current events regarding the conflicts around the world was not uncommon.
|
|
|
Post by victoria on Sept 28, 2009 19:38:13 GMT -5
"If one is to look at history, then by all means mankind itself is defined by war. I wouldn't be surprised if love itself was another form of war... it seems everything else in human nature is strife and battle anyway. Greed is the only thing that drives the individual." Mana took another drink of her water, having finished her rice roll, "Of course, what would I know. I've never experienced love, nor do I wish to." she shrugged faintly. Mana looked about the shop, just a casual look about, before finally commenting again, "For a 'simple trader' you surely have good taste in clothing. I suppose foreign goods seek a good prize in today's market." she chuckled.
|
|
|
Post by vierre on Sept 28, 2009 23:18:29 GMT -5
Vierre listened to the woman with a thoughtful ear. He had no argument against what she was saying, and in fact had to agree that war was an unfortunate major driving force for humankind throughout history. Even so, he didn’t think he would have laid out the truth quite so cynically. He hummed softly to himself for a second then remained quiet for another lingering moment. He tapped his finger against the table slowly, the knocking punctuating the stillness. “Oh? What a shame. You seem too young to be so jaded and weary of this world,” he said plainly, stating a neutral observation rather than passing any kind of judgment. “Is it greed that drives you as well then? What is it that satisfies your greed?”
Vierre cast the woman an enigmatic grin, seemingly pleased that she was bold enough to voice her suspicions about his claims. “Ah thank you. You flatter me. It has been a few good weeks of sales,” he said vaguely, with a shrug and a tilted head. His grin remained and he gave a subtle nod as if to congratulate the woman, though made no effort to provide the truth or even hint at it, and instead left it as an unanswered and open question.
|
|
|
Post by victoria on Sept 28, 2009 23:33:54 GMT -5
Mana laughed, "Young? I feel ancient." she shook her head. "And yes, greed does drive me, just like any other human animal. My greed, my selfish desire, is to keep running from the past. Of course, as any philosopher would know, that is impossible. The past will always haunt the present." she drank the last of her water. Mana brushed a few lose strands of her black hair that had fallen over her face, tucking them behind her ear, "I didn't mean to flatter... but you're welcome I suppose." she shot a grin of her own in return, "It's good to know you're doing well. I guess the Britannians must have plenty of money to splurge." she couldn't help but roll her eyes at the Britannian snobbish ways. It was so easy to pretend everything is alright when you're the one crushing others. Mana could care less about cruelty, but she did hate snobs... with a passion.
|
|
|
Post by vierre on Oct 2, 2009 23:47:02 GMT -5
Ancient? Vierre placed the coffee mug gently down onto the table. What an odd way to think. There was no doubt that this woman was unusual. Perhaps even eccentric in a decisively low key manner. He crossed one leg over the other and leaned back against his chair, as she admitted to her greed.
“Running from the past?” Vierre echoed the woman’s words. “You’re right, the past haunts us. But how do you escape something that is a part of you. I am the opposite. I too am running, but I instead run for my past.” This was perhaps the first truth he had spoken about himself in the entire conversation.
With another sideways glance, Vierre caught the woman’s grin. The sudden expression seemed to be in stark contrast to her previous aloofness. He liked this. She was human after all, and that meant she was complete with the intriguing blessing of human flaws and vices. He also caught the slight roll of her eyes too when she mentioned Britannians. “Not all Britannians are terrible people,” he put a hand to his mouth as if to silence himself. “I know, an awfully bold statement to utter in such a neighbourhood. Who knows, I may be speaking to a Black Knight for all I know, hmm?”
|
|
|
Post by victoria on Oct 5, 2009 19:12:44 GMT -5
"Run for your past?... Would that imply that you live in the past? Isn't that as unhealthy as running away from it?" she chuckled softly. She broke out laughing as Vierre suggested she might be a Black Knight, "Oh? Well, maybe I am. Though I don't see why would they hire someone like me. I'm too lazy." of course, she was lying, but lying was something she was very good at, "Of course, for all I know, you are in the Black Knights yourself." she chuckled, leaning her head on her hand as she turned her head to look at him with a sly almost flirtatious smile, "A fine young man like yourself, in such good shape. Mmm..." she chuckled softly, shaking her head and leaning back on her chair with a sigh, "But that'd be ridiculous. No Black Knight would claim that not all Britannians are terrible. Which, for the record, I never said all were bad... just the nobility." she smiled.
Mana did have her opinions about people, and what she said about the Britannians was true... however, nothing had ever stopped her from killing a good soul before, if it was necessary. It is amazing what you can do when you don't have a conscience.
|
|
|
Post by vierre on Oct 6, 2009 19:10:28 GMT -5
“Oh, but I never said it was unhealthy,” remarked Vierre. “Simply that, as you said, it is an impossible feat. Unless you are, of course, a woman of miracles. Do you make the impossible possible? He smiled slightly, an understated expression. “I don’t mean to imply anything though. I live in the now. I just happen to be fond of several things in the past that I would very much like to be in the now as well, with me.” That was the simplest way he could put it he thought. It would have been foolish of him to expect that things would be the same. Relentless change could not be avoided, but he had not spoken to his sister in several months now, and his brother for far longer. He needed to pay a long overdue visit to the tiny fragment of the Holy Empire of Britannia that he called home. After all, it wasn’t something out of the realm of possibility. As far as the Britannian government and authorities knew, Vierre DeMara was simply discharged from the military, not captain of the Black Knight’s First Division.
When the woman broke into laughter, Vierre chuckled to himself as well. And as she turned her head towards him with that sly smile, he lifted his mug again hiding the lower portion of his face with a sip. He made eye contact with her through the rising steam of the tea, his look composed and calculated. Taking the mug away from his lips, he smiled again, this time more apparent and openly confident.
“Yes, how impossible that would be! What would an honest tradesman know of guns and rifles, eh? I would surely be lost. So what does that make us then, hmm? Just a couple of nobodies in a restaurant I suppose.”
Vierre was right. This woman was indeed interesting. Her opinion on the Britannian nobility wasn’t uncommon, but judging from some of her other more cryptic statements previously, there was a mystery to her that spoke of a more enthralling tale.
“I stand corrected. It is the evil of Britannian aristocracy then.”
|
|
|
Post by victoria on Oct 7, 2009 17:22:28 GMT -5
Mana chuckled, "Sounds like the perfect cover for a Black Knight." she teased, smirking at him. "But yes, I would certainly say we are just that... a couple of nobodies in a restaurant. I'd dare say you are more of a somebody than me... owning a store. Hah! I wish I had that much dedication." she shook her head at herself, laughing softly. Of course, when she teased about being a Black Knight she was just being playful. She knew not to judge a book by it's cover, and for all she knew Vierre was indeed a Black Knight, but she had no reason to believe such. Shopkeeper or not she did find him rather pleasing to talk to. The fact he was good looking was just a plus.
"So may I be as bold as to ask for your name?" she turned her whole body to face Vierre, using her body language to show interest in him. She knew better than to become enthralled by someone... not to mention such a task would take quite a bit of time, but she did like to mingle with others every now and then. It defeated the monotony of working alone.
|
|
|
Post by maximillion on Oct 10, 2009 10:15:48 GMT -5
OOC:( Short, simple lazy post. >_> Excuse any errors, bad grammar, or parts that make no sense. It has been a long time since I wrote anything. Also, I hope my presence in this topic is welcomed, as I did not asked before entering. If there is a problem with me being here, feel free to say so and I will leave, delete my post Ect.)
IC:
Somewhere in the Saitama Gettô, foot steps echoed with a loudening thud and ever growing pound. It was an unusual day, mostly because of the storm that seemed to pop up out of nowhere. Droplets of cold water littered the streets and building tops with a harsh, relentless rain. It did not let up, not even for a brief moment. One could say that the weather was becoming dark as black, or that the sky was crying out for something. Certainly not the most desirable of occurrences, that much was for sure. Such a maddening downpour, the wet from above was enough to soak through the clothes, the body, and then some. Nature yielded to no one, that much was for sure. Despite the rain, thunder and lightning, and even the massive black clouds overhead, someone was still walking in the streets. That someone was a man who could be no older than his late twenties.
Ignoring the rain completely, the enigmatic figure walked into an alleyway behind some shady character. His long, black trench coat fluttering freely in the air as if caught in a gentle breeze. Plain black pants covered his lower half while a black shirt with a curious red red line insignia fit neatly unto the upper. Twin black gloves exactly the same as each other covered both his hands. And on his feet were black military combat boots with rubber soles. Of all that could be said about this character, the only word that would really fit him to a tee was "suspicious". Everything about this person was suspicious. The man had spoken with the shady character...and moments later, without a sound, pulled a knife from his pocket stabbing the shady man several times. Indeed, one would have to have exception knowledge of the human body to stab a human being as many times as he did and still not kill them. Somehow, someway, there was not a single speck of blood to be found.
Maximillion then carried the unconscious body up a fire-escape, darting up the stairs, and unto the building roof. He quickly chucked the shady man off of the roof and into the nearby trash can below. As if by cowincedence, it just so happened that the trash was to be picked up today, but as a matter of fact that, too, had been planned. In any event, no one would tie him back to the killing. The deceased was a criminal who was wanted for illegal gathering anyways, not someone anybody would miss. For Maximillion, death was an everyday indulgence, one that he quite enjoyed very much.
He hurried down to the street and began to walk, deciding to get refreshments at a nearby family restaurant. Soon, he stood outside the door, and with a light push, opened it and entered. Though it was certain that he'd stand out among anyone in the restaurant, the reason being simple. There was not a thing about him that was ordinary, his facial features made the man extremely handsome. Running a hand through his hair, pulling it back over his head, as it had been wetted down by the rain. The man took a casually took a seat, ordering a drink and some food. Although making no apparent motion to such, he listened and watched the man and women's movements and words. For now, he would just observe them.
|
|
|
Post by vierre on Oct 10, 2009 23:26:49 GMT -5
“Hmm… the perfect cover? I suppose maybe?” Vierre put an index finger to his lips as if thinking, then shrugged innocently. “Perhaps I am just as bad with covers as I am with a rifle,” he commented casually, pushing his now empty mug a few inches away.
In his peripheral vision he could see her shifting her body to face him, leaning forward slightly, her mannerisms open. He chuckled inwardly, having to admit to himself that it was hard for him not to look back at her constantly. “That certainly may be considered bold. But you are certainly welcome to be as bold as you wish. It saves me the trouble of having to ask for your name first, after all. My name is Vierre Renault,” he offered without missing a beat. “And your name? If I may be slightly less bold and ask you in return. Following your lead of course.” He grinned, but shifted his eyes towards the restaurant’s main entrance. A conspicuous man stood momentarily outside, before making an entrance into the restaurant interior.
Vierre traced the man’s movements and actions with his eyes with no apparent attempt to mask his focus, before looking back to the woman. No doubt she had noticed him as well. It was hard not too.
|
|
|
Post by majesticarchfiend on Oct 13, 2009 13:55:43 GMT -5
After the attack in Shinjuku, Kazuki had thought it best to quietly make his way fifteen miles south to the Saitama ghetto. He had stopped to buy a cheap, tan raincoat before catching a cab, and having paid the driver and left, was now making his way on foot. He lit a cigarette as he walked, stopping across the street from a neat family restaurant.
As he stood there smoking, he found his mind wandering, thinking of his brother in prison, and of Ayame, who was at that moment nearly seven hundred miles away, somewhere in Fukuoka. He wondered if she would ever travel to Tokyo - they hadn't spoken since Kaite'd been incarcerated... Stubbing his cigarette, he tossed the butt into a nearby waste bin before crossing the street and entering the restaurant, where he ordered a sandwich and some coffee. Once he had that, he sat in a corner booth and began to eat.
|
|