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"Scan the landing areas one last time. I will suffer no surprises in our docking of the ship." Cannoness Dahlya Krieg's voice carried across the entire bridge with ease. She stands calmly, her powered armor covered with purity seals and various emblems telling the tale of her many heroic deeds. Her left hand rested comfortably on the gilded storm bolter strapped to her side, her right hand fingering a chain of prayer beads crafted from pure obsidian. "Ma'am, scanning complete. No lifesigns detected at any of the proposed docking sites. No energy signatures or suspicious tech either. Any of these four zones will be suitable for an insertion." Battle sister Vorria answered from the navigations station where she overlooked the technicians work. Vorria was Dahlya's Celestian Superior. Over the last few years she had shown remarkable potential, so Dahlya had taken to personally train the warrior for the duties required of a Cannoness. "Good. Prepare your Celestians and the Repentia. We will enter the third docking zone, it's closer to the bridge. Destroy zones two and four, destroy three after we are clear. After taking control of the ship we shall exit zone one." She turned around sharply, her vividly red cape billowing behind her as she moved. "Mistress? May I ask why we don't simply perform an extraction from our docking site?" Vorria asked, careful not to sound disobedient or doubtful of her superiors decision. "Because Vorria. Zone one is very near the secure cargo hold. And the Administratum will be anxious to know if any Imperial treasures or artifacts are aboard. A waste of our time, but less paperwork when this is over if we check for them." With that Dahlya exited the bridge and made her way to her personal chambers. Once there she sealed the door behind her. She went to a knee and pulled a small wrapped package from under her own rack. The Cannoness immediately felt a surge of emotion as she held the package. Anger, joy, lust, pride, sorrow all flooded her mind as she pulled the wrappings from a small metallic disc. On the disc was an image no mortal could create, a face in the grips of every emotion the human mind could comprehend. Around the face was several glyphs that she had yet to translate, if anyone knew she had this, and Inquisitor would be dragging her away very quickly. Dahlya sighed, she regretted the moment she ever touched the thing, but she relished the sensations it allowed her to experience. Her faith, her path she willingly chose had no room for such things. Only devotion should live within her heart, she had been waiting for a chance to be rid of it, convincing herself that it was too risky to throw it out. "Immortal Emperor. Give me strength and purge these impure thoughts from my mind. And forgive my weakness." She re wrapped the damnable artifact, and made her way to the docking bay. Once out of her room, her face became once again an image of strength. No matter her feelings, her sisters would see only the might of Adeptas Sororitas.

The void between star systems is not so peaceful a place as one might be lead to believe. Particularly not in the Delta Segmentium, where the contortions of The Warp throughout the sector was subtle, enigmatic and malign. It was not prone to violent warp storms, but rather sudden shifts and changes that would astonish and confuse even experienced Navigators, as the light of the Astronomicon is bent, shadowed and twisted to throw ships from their course, or bring them to impossible destinations in no conceivable manner of time. Thus the emergence of a vast space hulk into real space from its cloying reaches is not a rare occurrence, as the bending of time and space contort and wreak havoc upon those pour souls lost in the Immaterium. This hulk showed no signs of habitation to those Adeptus Mechanicus logicians examining it's emerging signatures, it certainly did not seem to be under any kind of propulsion and had no signs of infestation by orks, or worse nightmares. Thus, when it was identified that a large section belonging to the hulk had once been what was clearly an Imperial vessel of great size and power, twisted into the massive wreckage a priority alert to standing forces was issued by the Adeptus Administratum that the hulk be seized in the name of the Emperor, that it might yield perhaps some lost secrets for the glory of the Imperium of Man. The random emergence and entering of the Warp by space hulks is well documented throughout the Imperium, and little concern was given to the circumstance of this particular hulk. No thought was given that this hulk might have some purpose, some sinister motive, some intended ill to those servants of mankind who would so brazenly brave it's depths . . .

"Fan out sisters. Five meter spread. No sound." Dahlya commanded, and her sisters obeyed. With ruthless precision Vorria and her Celestian moved to cover every entrance to the hanger that was now their docking bay. Their massive power armor moved with the same agility and grace as their own bodies, they were angels of war. Behind her fourteen sisters Repentia stood ready. Their bare skin already glistened with sweat, it was hot on the hulk, and humid. An oddity, but the hulk itself was a monument to impossibility. Dozens if not hundreds of ships, satellites, and stations all twisted together into a floating amalgam of horror. Dahlya had seen before the things that lurked within the walls of a hulk. Things beyond imagination, things that could shake the faith of even the hardiest priest. Dahlya held her custom Storm Bolter with one hand, up next to her shoulder so she could fire immediately. Her standard issue power sword hung from her right hand. And Grimfate, her own personal weapon. An Eviscerator type chain sword like the Repentia carry, only hers was crafted on Mars itself. It was a chain weapon and a power weapon at the same time, the fury of it's motor drowned even the most demonic roars, and it's teeth could rend even Ceramite. It hung from a harness on her back. "Cannoness. Only one path is usable. It leads away from the bridge, however Sister Idanni carries the Multi-melta. If the schematic holds to this corridor.." The battle sister pointed to a hologram of the ships original layout. "Then we can cut our way up to the bridge level and go straight into the command deck from this bulkhead." "Excellent work. Make it happen sister. Take point Repentia!" The sisters Repentia started moving quickly. They were hindered only with their Eviscerators. So they covered ground quickly, and if any threats met them during their course, then there was nothing better for them to meet than the Repentia. Fanatical, fearless, and without any mercy or restraint. "This is Dahlya Krieg to the Revenant Dawn. We are en route to the command deck. Commence destruction of docking zones in five seconds." "Copy that sister. May the Emperor guide you." With that Dahlya followed after the Repentia, Vorria right behind her. "May he guide us all." She said as the Revenant Dawn poured destruction into the Hulk. Leaving only molten slag to tell of her passing.

As the warrior maidens of the Ecclesiarchy readied for the search and reclamation of what had once been the Imperial BattleshipPraetorianthey could be secure in that their sensors had indeed picked up no life readings or telltale signs of ambush as they prepared their final docking sequence. There were not many forces in the galaxy who could foresee what was in store for them in fact, as their ship docked a strange artifact began to glow to life in one of the upper gun decks of what had once been a proud warship of the Imperial Navy. Now however it had been melded and bonded to a great deal of debris till it was only part of the greater space hulk, and its mass had merged with more than just Imperial Craft. Like an expanding splinter, the remnants of what had once been a great warp gate, now equally twisted by the haphazard whims of Chaos it had once again found it's connection to it's brother gates, the great network that had once been the circulatory system that had preserved the greatest empire the galaxy had ever seen. The Webway. One of the greatest triumphs and curses ever to be born by the Eldar. Created in their golden age it allowed effortless, secure travel across the galaxy through the Warp. With their fall however, it was like a malignant tumor, and many a lesser race and malign entity had sought to use it for their own nefarious purposes. The Eldar themselves no longer truly controlled it, nor knew the complete extent of it, but they more than any other race could use it to their greatest advantage. And now, it was their dark kin who had found this long forgotten entrance, hidden amongst this innocuous space hulk, the perfect trap for any prey they should choose to capture and enslave. The gate rippled and pulsed, tearing out into real space as the Dark Eldar raiding party began to pour out, into the upper decks deep in the reaches of the hulk, still just barely a whisper in the Warp, but already a more immediate threat to the Sisters who even now were beginning the exploration of the supposedly deserted ship.

Dahlya stood motionless as Sister Idanni sliced through the durasteel bulkhead with ease. Her the beam of heat from her multi-melta carved the ceiling into molten slag. Dahlya, Vorria, and every other sister with a line of fire aimed their bolters at the soon to be opening. And after thirty seconds of blinding light and intense heat, a portion of the bulkhead fell onto the floor. They all waited, motionless and silent. Then after ten seconds of silence Vorria moved ahead, careful not to step on the still molten metal she surveyed the entrance. With a tap on her holo-scanner she got a 3-d rendering of the corridor above. "Cannoness. The route so far holds true to the original schematics. The next floor we should be able to reach through this shaft right here, but the shaft is damaged. The Repentia will have little difficulty scaling it, but anyone in power armor will take some time to rig up an ascension harness. Or we can cut our way through the ceiling again and take the risk of damaging vital bridge systems." Dahlya sighed. Those were only half the difficulties between the decisions. "Not only that. But if we cut through, we will alert any threat that may be inside the bridge, giving them a full ninety seconds to prepare an ambush. If we scale the shaft we will have surprise, but no viable exit strategy." She considered the options. Their mission was to take the bridge and secure the Hulk. Exit wasn't an option anyways. Plus, the risk of damaging the vital systems and walking into an ambush was far too great to take that path. "We scale the shaft. Repentia! Take point!" Again the barely clothed soldiers moved ahead with speed and agility. Slinging their massive blades over their backs as they used each other as human ladders to climb through the opening. Her unit was through and reached the shaft in barely four minutes. They were making excellent time. "Alright sisters. Prepare ascension harnesses, I want half the squad up with each trip. Repentia! Scale the shaft and secure us a landing. If you meet resistance then hold your ground and kill as many as you can. Death is your fate, death is your gift. We will be with you soon. Until then, may the emperor guide you." She watched the Repentia until they were out of her sight. Then she turned to Vorria and the Celestian. The moment she turned she felt a pang of some unknown sensation. She felt a sudden heat in her abdomen and without a doubt knew it came from the accursed artifact. Heat flooded down from her stomach to her thighs, and everywhere in between. Without betraying her cold demeanor she whispered a prayer, focusing her mind and blocking the sensation out. As soon as she had a chance, she would be rid of the thing.

As the Sisters began their ascent up towards the command deck of the ship, the raiding party was making preparations of it's own. Kaltus emerged from the Webway's entrance only a few seconds after the first of his raiders, but already they were busying themselves fanning out to scout out the corridors they had prearranged their ambushes for. This had all been set up by the Archon and his Haemonculi as a trap to lure any mon-keigh foolish enough to spring it, and now it was Kaltus as Dracon of Kabal Scerree, to be sure it was a fruitful endeavor. They had explored most of the decks and had a good layout of the hulk before coaxing it into position to emerge from the Warp, and he had made personally sure that each of his raiders knew which ambush routes they were responsible for. Behind Kaltus now emerged his retinue of incubi, loyal and voracious killers who served as his personal guard and strikers, and behind them Haemonculus Tseeran, and a cadre of his choice Grotesques. Kaltus sighed from inside his helmet, as their was no love lost between Tseeran and himself, even by the standards of Dark Eldar within the same Kabal. He was an effective tormentor and useful yes, but had no mind for military matters and found the favor of the Archon in the entertainment he provided. A sudden tremor however distracted Kaltus form his musings of the failures of their Lord Archon and he immediately turned to his incubi. "Report!" He demanded as the display from his helmet lit up indicating the direction of the explosion, and route to the hulk's entrance. "Dracon, the mon-keigh have begun boarding the ship and have destroyed the entrance at the lower gun decks." His incubi responded, and Kaltus grinned. "The vermin have cut off their only escape route and even now advance into our web . . . ", Tseeran said, rubbing his hands maniacally as he turned towards Kaltus who nodded politely in response. "We shall allow them to advance, up to the third tier before the trap is sprung." He said, making it clear that he would be giving the orders here, "The mandrakes will surround them, while you take the wyches and their beasts to cut off their escape." Then turning to his incubi and raiders he nodded. "Then, we shall have them." There were cackles and howls of approval from his forces as they immediately spread out, moving silently and swiftly down the corridors of the hulk into two separate forces, adjusting as the Sister's penetrated deeper into their own demise.

The mistress does not command. Her duty is to ensure the Repentia follow commands. So long as they do their duties, the Mistress remains silent. Ohkorra Veshyr had remained silent until the shadows began to move. Without the Cannoness she was all that kept the Repentia from losing their minds and bodies to madness. She had fought this foe before. She was a veteran of nearly sixty battles, to look at her you would see a striking woman, who's face held both youth and experience as well as scars. You would not know that thirty five years of her life had been dedicated to the penance of the fallen. She knew well this foe's tactics, to move with the darkness, to be the darkness, to make fear a weapon and cut deep with it's edge. "SISTERS! TEAR THEM DOWN! KEEP YOUR BACKS TO EACH OTHER!" She lashed out into the moving shadows with her bladed whips, feeling the bite of flesh as she carved flesh from bone. "FALTER NOT SISTERS! DEATH IS YOURS TO GIVE IN THE NAME OF THE EMPEROR!" Her fanatical devotion had earned her many a honour throughout her career. It also carried the Repentia far beyond their capacity. But slowly they were overrun. The dark fiends that assaulted them were too numerous, and the Repentia could not use their Eviscerators too their full potential in these tight spaces. Eventually even Ohkorra was overrun, her whips torn from her hands, they wanted her alive, for she was not killed. Instead as she fought them off with her armored hands they tore into her suit, slowly damaging the circuits until the motors slowed and the power died. She could do nothing but swear and bide her time as she was drug off into the darkness with her repentia. She would wait, she would find time, and she would strike.

Melting their way through the shaft was a move unexpected by Kaltus, and thus the arrival of the Repentia on the upper level, already securing fighting space along the corridor while still Tseeran rounded the Battle Sisters to cut off any escape. They're rapid advance down the tunnels would have easily made for a much more difficult situation in running down and surrounding pockets of resistance, a laborious and potentially costly effort on his part, were it not for the Mandrakes. Maneuvering through the cramped, ill-lit corridors and even crawlspaces of the hulk was a task perfectly suited for the deranged creatures. No longer truly Eldar, they were more like the warp beasts of the wyches, useful so long as they could be controlled. And with the promise of slaughter and captives, it was not difficult to bait them into surrounding and delaying any unforeseen advances by the mon-keigh. As the Repentia squad advanced, it was to utter silence within the corridors of the hulk, the shadowy passages and bulk heads taking on a malevolent atmosphere more like a dark wilderness than the sterile halls of a ship. They could take heart and faith that the Emperor watched over them, that the feeling of being watched, of being baited by foes unseen, predators just out of sight was a trick of the mind, a flaw in their focus to be redeemed when truly they faced their foes. But their fears were not so unfounded as might be believed. As they crossed through an intersection of passageways, the two Repentia furthest in back seemed to be suddenly enveloped in shadow as an ear splitting howl erupted from deep within the darkness of the passage in front of them. The Mandrakes sprang from every corner of darkness, their flesh blending with the shadows with a fluid naturalism no technology could replicate. Their needle teeth and elongated claws were the stuff of nightmares, and demons of the Warp to which they had long been exposed and the attacked with a growing frenzy as the scent of flesh and spilled blood drove them wild. The were surrounding and amongst the Repentia in a swirling melee, even as their Eviscerators roared to life, mangling and cleaving through their bodies with ease, but it mattered not to the loathsome, twisted creatures. They were numerous and agile where the Repentia were ungainly with their massive weapons and though many fell beneath the whirring teeth, it was inevitable that others were subdued, dragged off into the darkness by the hissing, screeching warp-spawn.

Ohkorra cursed quietly to herself as she watched her Repentia reduced to husks by the xeno's torturous weapons. One by one they fell and were dragged off, until she was dragged along. Her armor kept her prisoner enough, they must have decided not to waste their devices on her immobile form. She had an idea of what was coming, and she would keep her calm. The only reason dark eldar take prisoners is for slaves or for pleasure before disposal. Twice before she'd been subjected to the dark vices of the xenos, each one she'd bided her time until she could call the wrath of the emperor upon them. This time would be no different. Her only failure was her inability to inform the Cannoness of their fate. They were taken." Dahlya surveyed the landing at the top of the shaft. The base area was untouched, empty, but only meters ahead the halls were scarred by fresh battle. Massive gouges showed where eviscerators had dragged across walls, scorches showed where Ohkorra's power whips had burned, and numerous smaller gouges gave light to smaller, much more sinister weapons. "Genestealers?" Vorria asked. "No. Genestealers claws leave distinct marks, gouges, tears, they would not have stopped with the Repentia. They would have swarmed us in the shaft as well. No....this is Eldar. Dark or otherwise, I cannot say. But look at how fine the cuts are, only Eldar weaponry can cut through metal while being that thin." This did not bode well. She would assume the Repentia dead, she would assume the Mistress Ohkorra was alive until she saw the body. That woman was invincible. For now, it was her and the Celestians. "Do we pursue?" Vorria asked, a hint of worry in her voice. "We do not. The Repentia are likely dead or incapacitated, so they have met their desired end or will do so soon. Ohkorra will not die so easily, and would not want us to follow her. She will reach us again. We continue the mission." She started to take a step when another pang of heat from the talisman hit her, it took all her will to keep from doubling over. Normally it emitted a myriad fog of emotion, now it was concentrating on pleasure. Maybe it was trying to tell her something....all the more reason to be rid of it. She forced herself into motion, silent prayers and focus eventually drowned out the talismans effect. Within moments they reached the blast door to the command room. "Open it." "Yes Cannoness." Sister Myreya moved to the control console and began restoring it's power. Within a minute, the doors began to slide open. All celestians trained their weapons on the growing entrance. Idanni and her Multi-melta, Myreya, Sassia, and Keira with their Twin-linked bolters, Freya with her hand flamers, and Vorria with her heavy bolter.

The Mandrakes were many things, but they were not perfect. They were talented, patient, methodical hunters yes, but they were not terribly efficient. It took great lengths to be sure they did not devour their prey on the spot, and Kaltus knew no threat, no promise, nothing that would motivate them to go about their work as efficiently, cleanly or nearly as quietly as he should like; ashe would kill. They had overwhelmed the Repentia, yes, but they had made a terribly bloody mess doing it, and their raucous howls and the sounds of gore and slaughter echoed through the halls of the hulk alerting anyone who cared to listen that blood had been spilled within the decks of the hulk for the first time in perhaps a millennium. And blood spilled would call for yet more blood still. Kaltus knew as his scouts relayed that the Mandrakes had met resistance, that their prey would be similarly alerted, and he was pleased. He was pleased because the purpose of the Mandrakes was yet twofold: they were advanced scouts for her and his Raiders, but they were also bait in and of themselves. Already their battle had bought time for Tseeran and the wyches to maneuver behind the mon-keigh, and they would be much more delicate in their pursuit and the eventual ambush, waiting until the time was right and their doom assured. The mon-keigh would be drawn to the sounds and scene of battle like daemons to the pyre, and then it would be too late. But for a number of the Repentia, including Mistress Ohkorra Veshyr, it was too late already. The Mandrakes had them in their clutches and were it not for Kaltus's explicit orders, they might have met a grisly fate at the fangs and claws of the cannibalistic fiends. No, their fate was reserved for much darker, more twisted fiends yet, and as the raiders pried the remaining Repentia from their clutches, the beasts howled with a desperation that might yet soon be matched by those who were so recently their prisoners. The armored Eldar relieved them of their weapons, and finding the Repentia still violent and fanatical even under threat of violence were liberal with their use of agonizers and their own neuro-decimators, rendering even the most fervent of Repentia into mewling heaps as their senses overloaded, rending their perceptions between intense pleasure and pain as they were dragged off. Slave-nets kept them subdued as they were brought back towards the Dark Eldar field base, and Mistress Veshyr could see the foul xenos as they readied for their ambush, her armor keeping her immobilized without need for their torturous tools. At least, for the moment.

Ohkorra was herded along with the surviving Repentia into a hastily erected corral of fine, mono-filament mesh, sharper than any razor wire, but for now it mattered little as her armor still kept her immobile and the Repentia were still rendered mostly nonsensical from the xenos neuro-weapons. From her position she could see as a particularly skeletal Eldar, clad in dark robes, with foul intentions in his eyes, perused over them, before being approached by a more heavily armored Eldar, the raiding party's commander. Harsh words were briefly exchanged between the two before they both stalked off, the Haemonculus with a final glance backward before they both disappeared down separate corridors, leaving the battle sisters with only a token guard for now. Before the doors were even half-way open, the plasma charges that had been attached to the other end of the door erupted in gouts of white hot energy, blasting the hatch the rest of the way open, and burning or blinding anyone standing too close or unlucky enough to be looking directly at the blast without flare compensation. Even as the smoke from the blast cleared, more smoke, unnatural warp spawned smoke poured out of the command deck filling the corridor with a fine mist that seemed prickly about the skin, even as the fire fight erupted. Dark Eldar shredder fire poured out of the hatchway; a bright hail of splinters that forced the Sororitas into the cover of the corridor's hatch combing. No enemies yet presented themselves, but suddenly, out of the dark and smoke of the entrance, a metallic monstrosity glided effortlessly out of the hall. Cramped in the tight corridors, the Talos presented an easy target, but it's blades and stinger were already bright with eldritch technology, and it waded through the fog towards the battle sisters with the baleful aura of any demon. The construct was not their only worry however, as the dissonant, baying sounds of warp beasts and the battle cries of the wyches reached their ears, rapidly approaching the corridors they had just vacated, having circled around them to close the trap which the mon-keigh had been so kind to spring.

Earth. Oh how lovely it was. He truly loved it. 70% water. Great place for an Undatian like himself. He just loved everything about Earth. As long as he kept his shirt on, no one ever noticed him. Well, that was a lie. He was noticed. He made himself noticed. He just was never too noticed that it made people think he was something he was not. He so loved that he was able to have that. He got to swim, and since Earth made those neat shirts that covered up the torso, but could still absorb water, he was even better off. Sure, he got strange looks when he did not come up from the water for ... hours, but hey! He still had far too much fun. He just loved being able to swim here. It was a good vacation. What was better was the house he was staying at was so close to the ocean! It made everything thousands of times better than it had been. He truly was thinking about moving here. Well, not by choice. His ship broke. Very, very broken. He had intended to come to Earth, but not so soon, and not as fast as his ship was hurling toward the earth. That was bad. Now, his ship was broken. He was pretty sure someone was after him, and oh! He needed to get parts. That were only on his planet. That was such a dandy little thing. He did not like that he was forced to be here, but he really was beginning to accept that fact. Gladly accept it too. Sure, Earthians were not as accepting as his home planet, but they truly were gorgeous to watch. Especially on the beach. Oooo. Such gorgeous beings! Walking through the halls of his housing, Turtle was going to go ... somewhere that he forgot. And how? By walking by the room right next to his. Some gorgeous suit-clad male bent over? Oh yes. He was stopping to check that out. Blatantly too. Subtle was never really in the boy's dictionary. His head lightly tilted to the side, eyes traveling along the gorgeous rump in the air. Definitely a delicious specimen. That really was nice. Very, Very nice. That just added to the list of why he loved this place. Moving over to the doorway, he rested against the doorframe, his arms loosely crossed over his torso. He looked over at the man a little bit more before lightly clearing his throat. "Hello, there. New here, I take it?" He asked, a warm smile pulling o his lips as he looked over the man once more. His eyes stayed with the other and his fingers lightly tapped on his sides, just utterly happy to have walked down the hall now. Yep. He definitely could get used to this place even more if he got to see him every day. Though, there was definitely something different about him. Honestly? He could not care less about that. If he was this gorgeous just behind him, then how could he not enjoy being here?

Well, it was a good run while it lasted. Like always, he was torn away from his companions for one reason or another- and as always, it was his fault. Sure, Donna was safe and sound at home, but at the price of her memories and the self-confidence she had gained during her journeys. The TARDIS felt rather empty, now that it was occupied by only one person, but maybe traveling alone would be good for him. He had managed it during the lowest point of his life. Maybe another Rose would come along eventually to pick him back up on his feet if he didn??t do so soon enough. A quick trip to the planet Xarbulas would clear his mind a bit. He was all set to do so, but then he heard his screwdriver make an odd noise- one he hadn??t heard in a while. It was a faint beeping noise- a homing device. He had set it long ago to detect individuals or small groups of aliens that were on a planet that wasn??t their own- it was his own way of trying to find if any of his own kin had survived the Time War, as low as those chances were. Unfortunately, he knew that this was not tracking down a Time Lord, since it would have beeped at a different tone and rate. Still, it worried him faintly. Usually these were the most dangerous on Earth, since small groups were easier to slip through security nets and cause trouble that wouldn??t be noticed until it was too late. Well, looks like Xarbulas was going to have to wait. Beaming at the thought of adventure, he packed a large suitcase full of clothes, gadgets, and whatever he could fit inside and made his way out to mingle with the humans again. Oh, wait? he needed money. Stupid currency. He backtracked to a room deep within the TARDIS and began to rummage through all sorts of drawers until he found one marked, ??England- 1990-2057??. Inside was the proper currency he needed and he stuffed his pockets and bag full of it. He wanted to make sure he had enough and he didn??t want to make more trips to the TARDIS than necessary, just in case this alien wasn??t very friendly and followed him to his last link to Gallifrey. He withdrew his screwdriver and toyed with it to lock on to this one life form and, after wandering through the streets like a lost fool, came across a lodging house. Oh, this was going to be fun. It had been a while since he posed as a human- well, without rearranging his entire genetic make-up, that is. The Doctor headed to the door and knocked. A friendly-looking couple answered. After a half hour??s worth of chatting and charm, the Doctor was given a key and a room to the house. According to his sonic, the other being was right down the hall from his room. He switched off the homing device and entered his new quarters and left the door open as he unpacked, just in case the person happened to pass by.

John? How boring. The shorter male pouted just a bit at his name. He did not seem like a 'John' to him. Maybe a Paul or a David ... but John? It was just so ordinary and boring. The name definitely did not fit the other. He truly was tempted to give him a new name, but figured that it was a little too soon in their friendship to do such a thing. Oh yes. He was going to make him his friend. Why? because friends spent time together. Spending time together meant getting closer and getting closer potentially meant sex! Oh how sex with him would be just lovely. Toned body. Tall, lean... Lovely hair. His mossy-green eyes traveled along the other's spiky hair for a few moments before realizing his hand was being shaken and a question asked. "Ah. Name. Turtle." He stated, giving him a shining little smile. His five foot four form barely stood up to the other, not that it mattered. His height never mattered. Only made things better. "Sorry for the zoning out. I haven't really made any acquaintances yet." He admitted and shrugged his shoulders a little bit more. "You are new to town, right?" he asked, perking up even more and his eyes sparkled with his utter enjoyment. "How about I treat you to dinner, hm? Show you some sights. The ocean is beautiful!" He would love an excuse to go near the water again, and going there with this cutie? That would make his life so much better.

It didn??t take too long for the Doctor to unpack. There really wasn??t much that needed care for. Most of his clothes were folded and tucked into the drawers within minutes. Any gadgets he didn??t need prying eyes to see were thrown haphazardly in the bottom drawer of his dresser. Everything else that wasn??t clothes or secret stuff was littered on top of his dresser- which included his tooth brush, an empty notebook, a comb, and the farewell card Wilfred had made him. It was a nice thing for him to do, and keeping cards that meant something close by seemed like a human thing to do, so it helped him with his cover. While he had been unpacking, he managed to find his favorite pair of glasses- oh, he had been looking for those for a while. Good thing he managed to toss them in to his suitcase in his packing frenzy. Rather pleased at the surprise, he put them on. He had just been hanging up the last of his jackets in the closet when he heard Turtle step in and the Doctor could easily sense that this guy wasn??t entirely human. He spun around, cautious at first but by the looks of it, the other didn??t look too keen on attacking just yet. In fact, he was even kind enough to start a conversation. For now, he had to act as human as possible. ??Oh, hello there!? Without sparing a second, he approached the other and then took one of Turtle's hands into his own and shook it enthusiastically. ??I??m John? and you are??

Turtle smiled. Lovely. He agreed. That made everything so much better. He perked up a little bit more, his body straightening as he looked over the man in front of him once more. Oh yes. He wondered if the newcomer would be offended or put off if he clung to him and hung all over the other like no tomorrow. It would be far too easy to do. He wanted to play with him! In more than one way. Patience was definitely not a virtue, but he would try to contain himself from pouncing the gorgeous being in front of him. "Great! Do you not like to eat anything?" he asked, not sure about the other's preference. He wanted to know before he decided where to drag him off to. He twirled the keys in his hand for a few moments. He turned on his heel and skipped over to the door. Closing his, he locked it and then jogged back over to the man. His arm wrapped around the other's elbow and he tugged him against his side lightly. He straightened his form and just beamed all the more excitedly as he looked up at him. He really was going to have fun with his new neighbor. As for the question of time, he gave a nonchalant little shrug of his shoulders while walking. "A few months. Three I think?" he turned to look at him, making his way down the hall and through the house to head on out into the crisp, clean, open air. So much fun! He smiled a little bit more, really happy right now.

Okay, so John was a bit of a boring name, but it helped out the Doctor in situation like these. If someone ever wanted to do a background check on him, well... good luck trying to figure out which 'John Smith' in the database he was. Besides, with a name like 'Turtle', most other names were painfully bland. He probably wouldn't care if Turtle ended up giving him a nickname. It wouldn't be the first time someone did that to him and besides, it's not like he was incredibly attached to a name that wasn't his, anyway. Hell, even 'Doctor' wasn't his real name but at least liked it a lot. "Turtle, huh? Well, it's a pleasure to meet you," he responded. So far, the guy didn't really look like a threat. Maybe he was one of the rare few (okay, not so rare since there would be millions of aliens that would come here that meant no harm, but that was further in the future) that came to Earth or was stuck here and meant to live a normal life on this planet. The welcoming attitude and kindness was a bit surprising, since a lot of the aliens he had come across lately were more than willing to lop his head off. However, he wasn't going to complain. Right now, it seemed that Turtle was being genuine with his help and the guy seemed pretty eager to go out and about, too. "That actually sounds like a good idea. Thank you," he responded. He finally released the other hand so he could slip both of his into his pockets. "You've been living here a while, I assume?"

He did not like pears? Well then, that was interesting, wasn't it? Personally, Turtle did not mind them. Maybe not his most favorite fruit, but he still liked it if he had nothing else to eat. He would not mind them. BUT! He kept that in mind. And considering there was nowhere that would force him to eat a pear, he would just take him to a simple little cafe with good sandwiches and some nice drinks. He was sure he could make the other love the little cafe he had grown to enjoy. Besides, lovely views there. And not just of the water. Turtle turned his attention once more to the man while he made his way through the streets. Where? "Um... Pretty far away. I doubt you've heard of it. Just one of those strange little places no one ever thinks about." He batted off the question with a little bat of his hand in the air. Now! To change the topic. "So, why aren't you married?" he asked, holding up the man's hand that his arm was latch on to and showing the lack of ring on his finger. And yes, deep down he was praying for the answer to be 'because i like men'. If not, then he was fair game. Even if he had a girlfriend, that was so very not important to him. If he could persuade him, he would not stop himself from having his way with him. Dating someone was so boring and he did not care if the other was taken. That would not make a difference at all. Hell, it would make things more challenging! If he was free, oooh, then that would make the rest of this man's stay here just so much more interesting.

"Pears. I can't stand pears," the Doctor answered immediately. Oh, it was such a foul fruit. He remembered how Martha hadn't been able to stop him from eating one back when he was configured into a human and he couldn't get the taste out of his mouth for weeks, no matter how hard he brushed and gargled. It stuck with him and just rubbed him the wrong way. Kind of like trying to get a dog to eat a pickle. One whiff and they turned tail. He was a bit confused by the other's touchyness, though he just attributed it to a species-sort of thing. He couldn't tell what planet Turtle was from just yet, so all the possibilities were still there. At least it was a friendly culture trait. He hated it when he had to go against traditions because he wanted to keep all his organs. Besides, the guy looked thrilled to be hanging out, and the Doctor loved it when people were happy, human or not. Three. Okay, so that was enough time to either become accustomed to human life or find a way to destroy it. Either way, the Doctor would have to stick around for a while to find out. He was going to grab his keys and make sure he had everything in order, but Turtle was already heading out and the Doctor wasn't going to cause a fuss. "That's cool. Where'd you live beforehand? I travel a lot, myself."

Goodie! No one then. That made everything better. His eyes kept to the other, eyes staying with his features while he debated. He seemed like he needed something. When was the last time that the other had any action whatsoever? By the way he seemed to be acting, it had to have been years. Probably quite a bit, huh? He just wanted to attack him right here and now. Sure, he could not do that, but he wanted to. Okay, no. He would. He did not care who saw, but was pretty sure that the other may not want to play again if he just took what he wanted, made sure he was pleased, and then just refused to let him go. That seemed a tad stalkerish. "Whoever said I didn't live in a city?" He did. It was just under water. And not on this planet. Not that the cutie needed to know that. At all. Not now. Smiling warmly as he made his way to the little cafe, he let his hand slide to the other's hand. Oh yea. his own little version of claiming the man. Like Hell he would let some trampish waitress try and get with HIS man. Well, not his yet, but definitely was going to get there. He would woo him some how or another. He refused to let him go. Leading the way to the table, he sat down and straightened up just a bit more, smiling cheerfully as he looked up at the other man, just so very happy at the moment. "It's really delicious here! Simple, but still yummy."

Over the years, he had come across many planets and many foods and he had learned how to cope with eating food he didn't like- food that probably would turn most people's stomachs. However, for some reason, pears just stuck with him. All the other foods he could wash away with a drink that he liked and the taste would be gone within a few minutes. Pears, on the other hand, were persistent little bastards. And if any of his companions needed their pear fix, he'd ask them to eat them in one of the rooms he usually never went in because the smell of pear lingered, too. The Doctor tried not to chuckle at the response- of course, if he was human, he wouldn't know where Turtle came from, but that was far from the case. Instead, he gave a small grin and answered, "you'd be surprised. I've traveled a lot. But that's nice- growing up away from a big city. Keeps you humble." The bluntness of the next question caught him off guard and he stuttered for a few moments before finally being able to form complete sentences like a big boy. "I come and go a lot, Turtle, it wouldn't be fair to my spouse to drag 'em along so I can do as I please," he answered. Of course, the TARDIS was rather roomy and could support twenty families and more if he so wished it, but he didn't want to settle down again. As much as he would have loved to have a family, he knew it couldn't happen when he was the last of his kind.

Turtle happily sat down, turning to the waiter and ordering his food happily. He then turned to look at the man in front of him. He was not letting that go, huh? Sure, he was so, so very interesting. He knew he was, but that did not mean he wanted to play twenty questions. He did with some girl one time a few weeks ago and wound up screaming at the end and leaving. The woman was nuts. They were not things that he ever wanted to guess just what they were. Creepy. And for him to say that, that meant that it was definitely bad. Looking up at the man, he grinned a little bit more. "If I tell you, will you stop playing with me ... Doctor?" he asked, smirking as he soon held up the lovely little sonic screwdriver this man was known for. He looked over the thing in his hand and pouted a little bit more. "You know. I knew there was something different about you, John, but I had no idea it was to this extent." He smiled a little more, twirling the screwdriver a bit more before he clenched it into his palm. Okay. So he had a horrible habit of taking things. When he was clinging to him, he felt it in his pocket, and wanted to see what was poking him. It did not feel like a pen, and it wasn't! It took all of ten seconds to put the pieces together. This was definitely a lovely surprise. Keeping the object close to his form so that the other could not get it back all that easily. his eyes went back to the man. "I'm from Undate. Ever been there? Well, I doubt under water.. unless you've been there recently. We've actually invented things for humans and the like to breathe under there for a while. I think th most was a day." He shrugged a bit more and then lifted his eyes to the gorgeous being in front of him, smirking more. "Last I knew, you seemed to look more like Dracula. Definitely not ... like this." Ah. He was so, so, SO very pleasantly surprised. honestly, he was trying to not just pounce the man across from him.

Oh, now Turtle was practically screaming that he was from an alien city. Of course, had the Doctor been human, he wouldn't have thought twice about it at all. Okay, so Turtle was from a city from another planet. Gee, that narrowed it down. He couldn't even tell for sure if this was Turtle's real form until he sonicked him, but he wasn't going to whip out his screwdriver and scan the guy. Now,thatwas stalkerish. The Doctor opened his mouth and closed it a few times when Turtle held his hand, not quite sure how to respond to this. He hadn't had any human or alien break his personal bubble like that so quickly- okay, it definitely had to be a cultural thing for Turtle and because he didn't want to offend the guy, he said nothing. Besides, certain cultures in Earth had people hold hands as a sign of friendship. And the guy looked so happy, how could he ruin that? The Doctor managed a smile. "I'm sure it is- and I'm starving." And that was the truth. It had been a bit since he last ate. "What was your home city called?"

Awe. The cute little doctor was all fidgetty! Turtle was not mean. He had no plans on keeping it for more than a few more minutes. He jsut wanted to play with it a little. Yes, he wanted to set it on one of the numbers and just send it flying to see what it would do, but he did not really want to get hurt or make a ruckus. he wanted to be incognito. No attention drawn to them. Doctor was cute. he was not going to let him get away with being seen by others. Bad enough the waitress was checking him out. Honestly, that woman was lucky Turtle did not piss on him to claim him as his own. that would just be so wrong. Looking over at him once more, he smiled. He was too cute! Far too cute. "Really? You definitely should. It's a lot of fun." He shrugged his shoulders a little bit. Sure, he did not really want to go back there any time soon. There were numerous reasons he was out on his own and traveling the stars, but the doctor did not need to know that. That would just spoil the whole fun of getting to know him! He wanted to truly know him a little bit more. On quite a more personal level. Pushing those thoughts aside, the younger, shorter male, lifted his mossy-green eyes to the man's. He then looked at the screwdriver then once more to the other. He grinned with a devious glint in his eyes. "You may." he began, almost handing him the object, but quickly pulled it back and to his chest. "For a price." he smirked and leaned toward the other, gripping the sonic against his abdomen now. "I want a kiss in exchange. Not a pansy little peck, either. Not quite make-out, I don't need tongue ... And if it's good enough, I'll return your toy." Oh yes. He was evil in his own little way.

If the Doctor had been being too persistent, he didn't notice. After all, once he was set on trying to figure something out, he found it a bit difficult to let go. When the waitress came over, he ordered himself a grilled cheese sandwich and a soda. He loved sandwiches. He crossed one leg over another and twiddled his thumbs together idly, just for the sake of having something to do with his hands. He was actually enjoying himself more than he thought he would- after all, he was pretty bad with the whole 'sit down and take things at a human pace' sort of deal. And then things took a turn to the unexpected. Up until now, the Doctor had a blissfully peaceful expression on his face, but it instantly hardened into a wary look when Turtle addressed him as 'Doctor', and when he saw his beloved screwdriver in the other's hands, he quickly patted himself down to make sure that- yes, he really had been pickpocketed. Dammit. His eyes followed his screwdriver like a puppy awaiting its treat, but he knew better than to reach out over the table and cause a scene. He was sure he was able to get his tool back peacefully. Besides, the Undate weren't particularly famous for causing havoc on the Earth- there was no point when they could inhabit the oceans with little disturbance. "I've heard of it- might have passed by it a time or two but never actually stepped foot," he answered, shifting a little in his seat now that he was down one screwdriver. "Which regeneration was that? First? No, that was too long ago. fifth, maybe? I quite like my current one," he rambled, but finally got down to the point. "Can I just have my screwdriver back, please? I'd appreciate it a lot."

Turtle was enjoying this far too much. He honestly was. He would probably have some higher being punish him for it, but that could be thought about at a later date. Right now, the utter enjoyment he was having by playing with the Doctor just made him giddy. Yes. Stopping at earth was so very much the best thing he could have done. Okay, the best thing that could have happened to him. Not only did he get to meet the doctor, but he got to get a kiss from him too! That just made everything so very right in his world. For now. He would accept a mere kiss for now. Though, slightly wondered if he could have managed something more than just a kiss for the man's screwdriver back. Probably. Looking at the pointed finger, a raven brow lifted in question. "Aww." he pouted, but easily leaned up and into the other's lips. Nice, soft lips. One point for him! Sadly, the other points came rapidly. The kiss was nice. He would not have stopped traffic for it, but it was still very nice. He did not want it to end. It had to. he knew it did. That still did not mean that he wanted it to. Hell, he could have kept going for quite a while more. To the younger one's perks, he had actually kissed very well. Okay, better than that. He was phenomenal at kissing. He knew he was too, and that only made him want to kiss more. He had skills, and while most of them were not used, he did make sure that the man could potentially be itching for more. Grinning as he pulled back, he giggled while placing the thing into the other's hand. He did not mind giving him the other's prize. "It may not mean anything between us ... But the others around us probably think differently." he glanced to an old couple that was currently staring at them, but just shrugged it off. He had better things to do: Like play with his doctor! Yes. His. HIS! Pushing that aside for now, his eyes turned back to him and he beamed while leaning toward him once more. "It makes me wonder what else I can get you to do, though." he admitted, eyes traveling along the other's form. "I'm pretty positive you can kiss better than that. You're no fun when stressing over tools." He stuck his tongue out before shrugging. "Still good considering."

At first, the Doctor had been worried that Turtle was going to use the screwdriver to pull nasty pranks on humans and cause a fuss, but now he was slowly starting to realize that the guy was just doing it to fool around- just a bit of harmless fun. And the Doctor really wouldn't have minded harmless fun had it not been one of the most important things to him that was taken. The only thing worse he could have done was taken the TARDIS. He drummed the tabletop with his fingers and held his chin in the palm of his other hand, obviously a bit distressed by this. "I'll consider it, next time I want to go deep sea diving. Have to reprogram my ship to make sure she's able to go down that deep," he responded. Now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure if he ever took the TARDIS underwater. However, she had braved black holes and suns, so going underwater couldn't be too bad of a jump. He extended his hand when Turtle began to hand the screwdriver over, but frowned when it was pulled back again. He shifted a little bit and a bit of color rose to his cheeks. Boy, this guy was pushing his luck. But a kiss wasn't too bad- it wasn't like this would be the first time he kissed a stranger. Besides, it was better than waiting around for him to get bored and hand it back. He huffed and pointed a finger at Turtle. "This means nothing," he warned, then carefully reached his hand to cup Turtle's chin and tilt his face up a bit so he could press their lips together. He kissed him gently- sort of like a good-night kiss after a first date- and then pulled back after a few moments. "Screwdriver."

Turtle arched a brow at the man's babbling. Why was he starting to tell him about the reasons there could be no relationship between them? Age? honestly, that was part of his problem? Sigh. The man did not know Undatians very well, now did he? While they were not as special as the Time Lords with their whole changing faces and the complete and utter never changing, they were not humans. They did not grow old. They tended to stay the same for hundreds of years, then when their time on this universe was over, they would just slowly float away into the water. "You know, Doctor, your age is not an issue. Sure, I'm a lot younger than you. I realize this. But! In retrospect of how old an average Undate lives ... Well, I think it would not be an issue in the long run of things. It's just be like an Earth person being with someone ten years older." he shrugged and then took up his chicken, pesto, peppers, and cheese grilled sandwich. Ah. It's delicious stuff! He took a bite of it and then looked back to the man in front of him. "And what's to say it'll last? You don't know until you try. You could manage to loooooove me." Yep, it amused him so very much at the thought of being with the man. How could it not? It would just be so very lovely. Definitely something interesting. With a shrug of his shoulders, and after eating a bit more of his sandwich, he turned his attention to the male once more. "AND! Who says I would want a relationship? Friends, sure. But friends can have benefits." He smirked at the last bit, taking a bite of some more of the food. He was now just testing the other. He doubted the man had a friends with benefit with anyone before, so it would be interesting to know how he felt about it. Of course, if he did not like the idea, then he would just have to woo him into wanting a relationship. That was that.

Now, Turtle seemed like a nice, entertaining fellow but the Doctor could already tell that the guy was going to be a bit of a handful. Not like it was necessarily a bad thing, but he just knew he'd have to keep a closer eye on some things. Namely, his screwdriver. At least now it was back with its proper owner. The Doctor put it back in his coat pocket, except rather than having it at the top like usual, he shoveled it deep down, somewhere between the fold-up tent and the flashlight. Turtle may have been pleased that he kissed the Doctor, but he was far from the first and far from the last. The Doctor had a bit of a habit of kissing people- mostly his companions but every now and again, he'd meet a nice girl or bloke that were looking for a kiss and got one. The Doctor frowned a bit when he glanced over at the couple that was now staring at them. Great. Well, not like it mattered too much. It wasn't like he was planning on having a life here or continuing to pose as Turtle's boyfriend. Hell, once they left this cafe, he'd probably never see the two again anyway, so what did it matter? "You're not getting any more out of me," he said stubbornly, pointing a finger at Turtle. "It's just that one kiss and that's it. I'm too old for you, anyway- and I don't age." He continued to go through his usual laundry list of why any sort of relationship wouldn't work out until their food arrived not much longer after.

Did the Doctor honestly think that would deter him? He got into enough trouble on his own. Having to get into trouble with someone he could potentially fall for was definitely something he would not mind. Adventure was fun! He was not as fragile as a normal human was. This man only really ever had humans as his companions. Undatians were strong. Sure, their weak point was the gills. They were sensitive to the touch - and hurt like no tomorrow if injured at just the right angle - and he would need to have water and swim every so often, but any danger that could happen would not be as easy to harm as it would him. He sighed softly and shook his head a little bit. "Glad that it's not your style." Since, admittedly, it was not his. Yes. He had a fling here and there, but that did not mean he did not care for the other person. There were circumstances that surrounded those sort of occasions. Typically, the little alien at least tried to make anything more than just friendly benefits. He loved to have sex, but he tried to not just do it with a pretty face. He tried to have morals. Thing being, it just did not work out all the time. If he had enough attraction to someone for him to want to sleep with them, then there was something about that person that got him intrigued enough to do that. Whether a connection with the other, or wanting to have a relationship. Whatever it was, there was always something. Looking up at the other, he leaned toward the other and smiled just a little bit more. "Doctor, you will not get rid of me that easily." He stated, a pleasant smile tracing along his soft pink lips. "Danger? That's the best you have to scare me off with? I have no family or friends for them to be endangered. So, it would just be me, and I do a well enough job on my own of getting into trouble. It's just so much more fun with a friend. Don't you agree? You cannot tell me that you are not lonely right now. Without your little companions to stick with you. Without them to help you problem solve and get out of trouble. Yes, yes, they have gotten into trouble because of you, but that was their choice, and I am positive you can ask every single person you have ever had, and they would not regret it." he stuck his tongue out at him before going back to his sandwich with a shrug. "I'm staying by your side."

Okay, so he did know that Turtle wasn't a human and his usual 'this won't work out' speech wouldn't have the same effect, but he had been hoping it was enough to deter him from pursuing him any further. He was sure that Turtle was a nice guy and would make someone happy, but as much as the Doctor was a romantic at heart, he knew he couldn't have any sort of relationship. Even being friends with someone endangered them, as he found out time and time again. "It's not just age," he responded. He took a moment to have a bite of his sandwich and calm his nerves a bit. Usually any advances made on him were subtle- maybe a sudden kiss, but no more and they would learn to move on rather quickly. Turtle was persistent. "I'm dangerous. Every day I risk my life and death isn't the worst thing that happened to my friends." He usually was a bit stubborn to letting people back in to his life after losing a companion. He washed down his bite with a sip of soda and shook his head at the other. "I don't think any less of people who have friends 'with benefits', but it's not my style." Call him old-fashioned, but he believed most levels of intimacy should be shared with only one person, and only if he intended to be with that one person for a very, very long time.

Turtle listened to the man, arching a brow in question of what he was babbling about. He got it. The man did not want a broken heart. To endanger people. blahdy blah blah blaaah. He did not care. What this man did not realize was that Turtle was stubborn. He was not going to just say 'oh okay. you're right' and let himself be dropped off at his planet. To be honest, he was lonely. He was very, very lonely. The one friend he had left abandoned him. Left him. Told him to never contact him ever again. And then what happens? he dies. That stupid man had to go off and die. The one and only friend he honestly truly ever had ... just dies. He could not stand it. That was what started his whole trip, and he was not going to go back. "I'm--" The boy suddenly stopped, eyes going wide as he spotted quite the muscle-man coming around the corner. His breath caught in his throat and he remained frozen for a few moments. "oh look! Lunch is over!" He hopped up from the table, shoving a few bills under his plate before he took a hold of the Doctor's hand once more. "I know you don't want to be stuck with me, but ... you're going to since Kujo over there saw you" he gave a little wave of his fingers to the angry man that was soon stomping to them. "Yea. We're leaving now." With that, he yanked the doctor to his feet and was soon leaping over the fence the separated the little tables from the street. He made sure he had a strong grip on the other, not really wanting to let the other alien get a hold of him.

The Doctor was pretty good at hiding his emotions when he wanted to. Sure, he'd let out his fits of anger when an offender crossed the line or let a tear shed when no one was looking, but Turtle was pouring salt into an open wound with the 'lonely' comment. After all, it had been less than a day since he had parted ways with Donna. What a wonderful, wonderful woman she was and even though there was nothing romantic between them, it tore him to pieces knowing all the great, courageous, and spectacular things she did.... and she wasn't allowed to remember, or else it'd kill her. And she did it all to save him. At least Martha had been allowed to live safe and sound- a normal life without any sort of disturbance. However, he had endangered her entire family when he picked her up and the suffering they endured during the year that never was... well, it was unspeakable. And the worst part was, they were one of the few who remembered it, so they couldn't even share their pain with their friends and neighbors. All they had were the memories and their small family to speak of it with. Rose had it the worst, though. Left alone in an alternate universe. Sure, she had her mom, dad, ex, and baby brother... but it still wasn't her home. Oh, how he cried whenever he was alone. He managed to rectify it- at least she had him... his other 'him', but the Doctor missed her dearly. "Lonely or not, I'm not willing to put another person at risk because of me," he said. "At most, I'll take you back to your home planet if you'd like- any time you want, I'll take you there. But I can't keep you with me, whether you have family or not." It killed him to say this because he really did want someone at his side, but- he couldn't stand watching more of his friends come and go by his hand. "Because in the end, I break all my friends' hearts. And they break mine."

Turtle was quickly running beside the other. His shorter legs doing a pretty good job of keeping up with the man. He followed him through every side street and made sure to not lose him. Hey! At least there was something to do now, right? He knew that this could end horribly, but it got them off the topic from before. That was always fun! He was going to stop the argument, just not give up though. He could not do that. He would just stop talking about it. Let the other sizzle a bit about all the things that went on beforehand. Turtle was different, though. Obviously. Turning to the man at the question, he shrugged his shoulders a bit. "Nothing. Just witnessed him murdering my best friend, why?" He looked up at the taller man while rushing down the other street once more. "He's the reason I'm here."

Once Turtle opened his mouth again, the Doctor was prepared to go to the next step and use his angry voice. He didn't like using his angry voice, but he needed time alone to think things over if Turtle was really set on coming. The Doctor didn't want to make a rash decision and end up regretting it later. He didn't want to hurt Turtle's feelings by making him stay here or at his home planet, but what if the guy really didn't understand just exactly what he was getting himself in to. However, they didn't exactly have much time on their hands now that big bad was coming after them. At first, he was a bit confused when Turtle quickly stood up and tugged at him to go, but then he saw the oncoming danger and, to be honest, was damn glad that there was something to do now. Without needing to be told twice, he quickly caught up with the other. Okay, so he didn't know the area too well, but he knew where the TARDIS was and that was more or less a safe house. The other alien could knock and attack it all he wanted, but it was an impenetrable fortress and would buy them enough time to come up with a way to get rid of it. Abruptly, he tugged Turtle and began to run off in the direction that the TARDIS was parked. "What'd you do to piss it off?"

Why was this man questioning him so much? He knew that they were better than pestering about sex and whatnot, but it did not make him any happier to answer the questions about his friend. He knew that his friend was a little extensive in the punishment, but he was a hurting father. His daughter was the only one he had. The only reminiscent of his one and only true love. It was sad, but Drake was not one to just let things slide without a care. He justified his actions, and while he did not support the action of death, he knew his friend and that the other deserved far worse than that. Looking up at the doctor once more, he blushed faintly and his hands rested on the bottom of his shirt, fidgeting with the fabric for a little bit more. He remained silent for a while, not sure if he honestly wanted to tell the man. His eyes lifted to him with a bit of interest, staring at him before he sighed heavily. "The man's son ... raped his daughter. It was very bad. And too many horrible things happened to her after that, but ... Drake does not take well to his loved ones being abused in any manner, especially his daughter. She's his only one and from his only love and so he could not let the man who hurt her daughter get away with it." He shook his head a little bit and looked up at him once more." I know it is not the best solution, but he was in pain. Could you let your daughter's rapist live?"

For once, an alien wasn't chasing him down... only chasing the guy next to him. Well, granted, he'd be guilty by association and get attacked anyway but at least it wasn't his fault this time. That was a plus. As he ran, he fumbled in his pocket to find the key to the TARDIS and, once he fished it out, held it tightly in his hand until they came to the familiar, blue box. Oh, how he loved that ship. He unlocked the doors, opened them, and then tugged Turtle inside with him before shutting and bolting the doors. For a few moments, the Doctor put his hands on his head and breathed deeply to make his hearts return to their normal pace, and then he looked back at the other alien. He put his hands on Turtle's shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Why did he kill your best friend?" There were more questions to come- he'd by sympathetic for the kid later. "What did you do to him to retaliate, how did you end up landing here, and has he found you between that day and today?"

Why was this man questioning him so much? He knew that they were better than pestering about sex and whatnot, but it did not make him any happier to answer the questions about his friend. He knew that his friend was a little extensive in the punishment, but he was a hurting father. His daughter was the only one he had. The only reminiscent of his one and only true love. It was sad, but Drake was not one to just let things slide without a care. He justified his actions, and while he did not support the action of death, he knew his friend and that the other deserved far worse than that. Looking up at the doctor once more, he blushed faintly and his hands rested on the bottom of his shirt, fidgeting with the fabric for a little bit more. He remained silent for a while, not sure if he honestly wanted to tell the man. His eyes lifted to him with a bit of interest, staring at him before he sighed heavily. "The man's son ... raped his daughter. It was very bad. And too many horrible things happened to her after that, but ... Drake does not take well to his loved ones being abused in any manner, especially his daughter. She's his only one and from his only love and so he could not let the man who hurt her daughter get away with it." He shook his head a little bit and looked up at him once more." I know it is not the best solution, but he was in pain. Could you let your daughter's rapist live?"

Sometimes, the Doctor would be a little more wary of who he let in to his TARDIS but for now, it didn't matter. What mattered right now was that he and Turtle were safe until they were able to come up with a plan of attack. However, what he wanted to know was whether or not Turtle was innocent of any wrongdoing... which, from what he was gathered, probably was the truth. After all, Turtle was a lot less menacing than what was currently chasing him, even though looks can be deceiving. "Why did he hurt your friend's daugh- oh, it's a moot point, nevermind that... actually, yes, why did his son hurt your friend's daughter?" Right now, the Doctor was going to have to punish their pursuer accordingly- he was guilty of murdering the friend, yes, but if he could justify it for his son being wrongly accused or having a reason to attack, then maybe the Doctor would be more merciful. Even though an eye for an eye wasn't right, that didn't mean that the Doctor had to be ruthless in punishment. Everyone deserved a second chance.

It was rather ironic that the Doctor got a bit bothered when people badgered him with questions- especially when he was thinking... but as soon as he needed things answered, it was perfectly okay for him to go rambling on and on until the other person's ear was half chewed off by the time he was through with them. That, and he was impatient. Very impatient. Sure, if he knew that something took a long time, he'd be able to sit around and wait but he definitely would not like it. At least Turtle was giving him answers now. His face dropped a little when he heard the answer, though. In his opinion, rape was just as bad as death- even worse, in a way. And as a father and a grandfather, he knew he would have been blinded with anger, too. He wouldn't have killed a man for it, but he would make sure that the offender would regret it. Regret it a lot. However, he didn't show how the little fire in his stomach was turning him. Instead, he flashed a grin. "Well that makes this very, very easy," he stated as he stepped back. He gave Turtle a pat on the shoulder- a silent thank you for his cooperation. He glanced around the TARDIS, trying to think of a suitable transportation device that could carry two or three people. Maybe he could reprogram the TARDIS and use a bit of her energy to create a portkey-like device. "The daughter- what was her name?"

THE JOKER His eyes peered up at her as she walked by, but quickly turned away once she realized where in the small room he was. As the guards ran down the rules and regulations one last time for her he started to whistle as he laid down body outstretched. It wasnt until she took a seat next to him did he start to acknowledge her. Harellen Quinzel. He whispered softly taking the time to elongate each letter as if just saying her name gave him some sort of pleasure. In all of Gotham the Joker was one of the only villains that all of the citizens both feared and where attracted to. Books had been written about him in a attempt to dissect his psyche and come up with some excuse as to why he was this way, and some of them where actually good reads, but even better kindling. Its not that he mind the publicity knowing his name was on the tongue of every citizen brought a smile to his face at night. Rarely did he ever deny an interview finding a small amount of pleasure with toying with the interviewer twisting his words and making the entire process fruitless for them. It also warmed the old crusty crevices of his heart to be able to tell an uppity guard that he would kill them the next night even though he was locked up and be able to upheld his promise, because he was a man of his words, or at lest the ones he liked. At first he had an entire plan set out to ruin the poor girls life, but after finding out her name he decided on doing something a little bit different this time. Ya, know! as if coming to a great realization he sprung up on his cot quickly catching the attention of the on looking guards. If you where to rework it a bit and you get Harley Quinn, like the classic clown character, Harlequin, the very spirit of fun and Frivolity! chuckling softly at his realization he took the time to drink in her looks. He watched her carefully like a little boy eager to open up his Christmas gift. Now thats a name you can trust! Standing up he started to wonder around the room circling her as she continued to speak. Well then just tell me where to begin Harley purposely he used the nice name he gave her making it obvious that he did so. Jumping onto the coat from the side he returned to his resting position. I got all the time in the world to kill!

HARLEEN QUINZEL He was a mad man. He was insane. He was a creature void of any humane emotion and numb to the line of right and wrong. Her supervisor told her not to do it. Her colleagues warned her that it wouldn't be a good idea. She needed to do this though. To think of all recognition she would receive from this assignment. How much better and more intelligent she was than all of them. her professors would applaud her and her colleagues would be amazed. Taking on the criminal known as The Joker was major step in her career. She had spent year ins grad school for an assignment like this and it would be foolish to pass it by now. Harleen had did her research on him. He was responsible for several homicides, countless robberies and with a myriad of attempts on the mayor of Gotham Citiy's Mayor. He did all that and much more with a smile on his face. She remembered the pictures she'd seen of him. That tortured grin against a pale face, eyes black and empty. She wondered what could drive a man like that. If a man is what you called him. He was something else all together. She needed this opportunity to find out just what mad that man tick and her opportunity was now. Pulling up to the Arkham asylum in her coupe classic. Harleen glanced at herself in the rear view mirror. Her blue eyes bright with determinative aptitude as she brushed her lose strands of blonde hair back behind her ears. Pushing her glasses up along the bridge of her nose she got out the car. Her heels clicked against the pavement as she made her way up to the security desk to check in. Showing the man her i.d. he let her enter through the steely gate and it was there that she would be escorted in the building. She was join by another man and all three would enter the long hall. This is where the held the most dangerous of criminals. Clayface, Two Face, The Puppet Master this place was for the maniacs and crazies all together. They shouted out her through the thick glass, impenetrable as it was she still could help but feel a little vulnerable. Like they could break right when they felt ready to. Composing herself she kept her eyes straight to look ahead. Finally they stopped at the door. Beyond it would be her prize. The chance to get inside the Joker's head. Something no one had done before, well except maybe the Bat , but no one normal like her. One guard open the door and she walked in. The door closing behind her she looked around the room. There was no hint of individualism in here. The wall were just walls as much as the ceiling and floor were just ceiling and floor. However there on the cot next to the right wall she saw him. "Hello, I am Dr. Harleen Quinzel" She said taking her place in chair next to him. She looked up at the camera's in the room and she could hear the guards cackling about something out side. "If you would Mr. J, I would like to begin your first session" She said in her Boston accent.

THE JOKER My father hit me a lot. He started off his voice much more serious then it ever was before. You see when he went off to war my mother was pregnant with me and decided that it was best not to tell him. So when he came back he was surprised by a two year old son and one thing my father hates more then anything else is surprises. As he spoke he continually moved his hands adding some visuals to his story. It seemed whenever I did something wrong he would hit me and even when I didnt BAM he would still hit me. Sitting up on the cot he remained hunched over as he spoke. I would try to impress him by doing some of the jokes I heard him listening to on his records, but he would just yell at me for touching them and hit me again. The hardest times where when him and my mother would argue with each other, cause he would hurt her and no matter how hard I would try he would just use his anger on me. I still remember the blood in my mouth. I thought that by making him laugh I would get him to be happier, but it seemed that only after drinking and beating me would he be really happy. Yet, that was my first lesson, not everyone gets the joke. My dad didnt get nor does batman! just saying his name seemed to make the joker cringe slightly. They are both the same just muscular self righteous men who just cant get the pun. Looking over at her his eyes slightly closed almost as if looking for sympathy. But your not like that right?

HARLEEN QUINZEL She was already amused with him and began to study everything by just watching him waltz about the room. His motions were quick. It was like she waiting for him to pull out something crazy to out her with, but that wasn't the case.He called her Harley Quinn and amazingly she found herself chuckling. Never before thinking of her name like that. He was like a child in a way and she felt somewhat sorry for him the poor thing. Reaching into her bag she pulled out a file. Every crime he committed was written on this paper and yet no one knew anything of his past. "I want to talk to you about your childhood. Your mother, your father and brothers and sisters." It was how these sessions usually started by getting to know the patient on a personal level. The idea was to treat them like the most fragile things in the world. She couldn't help but to smile a bit as pushed her glasses back up along the bridge of her nose. Taking a pen out the pocket of he skirt she crossed her legs and began to jot down a few things. " Just tell me a little about yourself."

THE JOKER "I don't know.." he whispered softly sitting back and rubbing his chin in contemplation. Actually.. Yeah! Now that I think of it. As if he was putting the pieces together in his mind he walked back and forth pacing at he spoke. I mean all I want to do is make people smile, but the both of them just punish me for it. So I try harder and harder, but no matter what I do at every turn I am faced with the cold harsh stern glare of disapproval. Sitting back down as if surprised by this revelation he looked up to her in confusion. But what do I do? No matter how hard I try for a better life the big man keeps putting me down. A red light started to go off showing the end of their session. What we are over already? Joker wondered as he saw the guards approached putting his hands into shackles. It had already been discussed that the session would be short, due to the types of criminals in the prison. As it stood it was already risky having him outside of his jail. Well we will just have to continue some other time. With that they took him off leaving her in an empty room the door open for her to leave at any time. In her car rested a vase holding a single rose with a note saying, Come Back Soon there was no signature or anything else, but it was clear who it could be from.

HARLEEN QUINZEL Child abuse? The Joker was a victim of child abuse? She jotted these things down on her notepad as he spoke to her about his father. He sounded like-no he was an asshole. How could someone treat their own child like that? She pursed her red lips together in concentration Slicking back a lose strand of blonde hair. Ok so the abuse was one thing and apparently he always had a sense humor since then. It just developed into something more serious. They way he presented his jokes now were more than social stigma that developed in the mind of an abuse child. Poor thing. She looked at him when he asked her if she was like that. Her blue eyes bright and curious. "No, it's terrible that your father would do those things to you. It would make anyone angry. " That was truth no doubt. Harley needed to know more about him. " The way you relate your father to your involvement with Batman, do you think of them the same?" She looked at him. It was like watching a child watch his favorite puppy get run over by a truck, and then came the rain, yet the child was still out there watching the dead puppy get washed away, completely away. She was feeling sympathetic, but had to remember to be professional.

The Joker At the next meeting she was left in the large interview room by herself for quiet some time as the guards seemed to have issues getting the Joker. Alone she was able to think over the week and the strange things that seemed to happen to her. She seemed to always find herself around a small gang of thugs who whenever someone accosted her would come to her rescue. Yes, they werent the smartest, but they did do one thing write and that was beating up people. Quickly she started to see a change in her office as more of her peers paid respect to her offering her tickets to concerts or invitations to parties that she never got before. Hell all in all this had been one fantastic week for Harley. I am sorry miss, but he is demanding that you two do the interview in his own ceil. It seems that ever since you came along he hasnt really been acting up lately and the chief want to keep it that way, but there will be safe risk. We are doing a search of his room and if everything comes up clean we will put you in and you two can have your session. As he spoke he was actually pleading her to go along with it. The Joker had been well know for injuring a guard every other day, but now not one. It was a good thing and he didnt want to lose it.

HARLEEN QUINZEL Was time up already? She didn't notice but their session was up. She felt a wave of overwhelming emotion take her over. Could they have been wrong about The Joker all along? He was just a poor abused child inside trying to make people laugh, but no one would give him a shot. Just a punch in the face, cuffed and thrown into a cell. "I'll be back next week" She said as the guards took him away. She didn't want him to go. She wasn't read. Just when they were getting somewhere. Walking back to her car her mind was racing. If only she had been allowed more time with him. Really getting to know your patient was her goal. Firth thing in the morning she would ask her supervisor for more access and longer sessions. How else would she reach her goal of getting inside The Joker's head? Unlocking her car she hopped in and to her surprise she found red rose sitting in a vase. There was note on it saying three simple words that placed a smile on her face. It only took her moments to realize who the gift was from and then her eyes widened in shock. How did he? She got out of the car and looked around the empty parking lot. There was no one out here . Getting back into her car she took off and drove home.

I am sorry to inform you all be I may not be posting for a while.. (I had to move to the big apple and I thought I would have my lab-top but thing arrived broke so I have no way to get a computer really.) I will return I just dont know when. If you want you may use any of the progress we have done in our rps with others. Well, until I get my computer back or buy a new one, peace out. "Well they can be nice to me when they want to" he whispered softly. Laying on his small coat he staired at the wall of his jail cell. Spinning around he sat up before huching over to face her. "Plus i dont want us to get desturbed." It took him a few minutes before he spoke again just watching her as she walked. "I thought we should do something a little different. I mean you know so much about me but i have no idea about who you are. So what about today you let me ask you the question. Please?" he askedk her his eyes pleading her.

Harleen Quinzel Well wasn't this a surprise. She had never gotten so many good reviews from her colleagues. Thinking back to last week she still had the rose and vase and even kept the note. Wondering if he wrote it himself. It would of been awfully nice if he did. For some reason it was like her life had improved since her first meeting with Mr. J. That's what she called him (in her head anyway). Nodding to the guard as he ranted on about something she was in complete accord with it. "That's perfectly fine with me." She couldn't wait to see him. It was almost going to the fair for the first time. You knew what was going to be there ,but you didn't really know what to expect. As the guard escorted her down the hall she couldn't help but notice how the other criminals were quiet. No one shouting disturbing or rude remarks to her, whistling or hooting. She arched an eyebrow in curiosity. They stopped right in front of his cell. The door being opened for her as she walked in with a very bright smile on her face. She really began to think just how much influence The Joker really had if could makes requests like this. Her chair was already placed next to his bed as if it had been waiting on her. "I've heard you made a few requests, I'm surprised really." She took her seat and placed her bad down on the ground next to her. "Ready to begin?" Harleen Quinzel Well wasn't this a surprise. She had never gotten so many good reviews from her colleagues. Thinking back to last week she still had the rose and vase and even kept the note. Wondering if he wrote it himself. It would of been awfully nice if he did. For some reason it was like her life had improved since her first meeting with Mr. J. That's what she called him (in her head anyway). Nodding to the guard as he ranted on about something she was in complete accord with it. "That's perfectly fine with me." She couldn't wait to see him. It was almost going to the fair for the first time. You knew what was going to be there ,but you didn't really know what to expect. As the guard escorted her down the hall she couldn't help but notice how the other criminals were quiet. No one shouting disturbing or rude remarks to her, whistling or hooting. She arched an eyebrow in curiosity. They stopped right in front of his cell. The door being opened for her as she walked in with a very bright smile on her face. She really began to think just how much influence The Joker really had if could makes requests like this. Her chair was already placed next to his bed as if it had been waiting on her. "I've heard you made a few requests, I'm surprised really." She took her seat and placed her bad down on the ground next to her. "Ready to begin?"

Kaia adjusted the glasses that had sunk to the bridge of her nose. Her short black hair framed her face in a cute way, just showing enough to entice, but hiding some of her features from view. Her dark eyes looked out across the grass that led right up to the gate that led into Saffron City. She could see the skyscrapers and buildings so close, but blocked off by the hills and stone that ran around the city. She'd not been home for so long. She was excited to see her friend, Sonata, who had wanted to become a Pokegirl breeder when Kaia had left so long ago. She blushed as she found herself straightening her outfit, a short skirt and a long-sleeved sweater to keep out the chill of winter. Her legs were kept warm with the thermal hosiery that she wore, and her neck and chin was warmed with the orange striped scarf. She felt a cool breeze brush past and she shivered, but only for a moment. Her thoughts quickly went back to the friend she hadn't seen in so long. Her hand went to one of the balls at her belt, which she took and tossed, pressing the button before letting it fly. A flash of light and Eevee, her pokegirl stood there. The girl had long ears that came from the mussed and matching brown hair that hung thick in the way of her own glasses. She wore a tan scarf and a brown and white shirt, a skirt and stockings finishing the ensemble, her thick bushy tail sticking out from the hem of the skirt. She looked like her owner, if nothing else, then in clothes, though they weren't exactly alike. "I want you to meet Sonata, Eve," she said as they went through the doorway of the gate, "She's gorgeous and I think I want her to work with you to breed. I think I want to get you mating with another Eevee sometime soon." The pokegirl nodded, the blood rising in her cheeks as her hands unconsciously dropped to the bulge that was hidden beneath the loose folds of her long skirt.

Sonata patted her cheeks and took a deep breath in front of the mirror. Okay this is it. After all the training and preparation she was finally going to head out into the world. She adjusted her white tank top, and tightened the belt on her white cargo pants. She did not want them falling down, due to some unusual extremities, it would be embarrassing on a completely insane level. Out of insecurity she patted herself, feeling the long thick bulge beneath her pants. Yup, it was still there. She wouldn't mind...if she thought people were more understanding. But she would probably be labeled a freak for having a penis, and a sizable one at that. "Oh come on! No one knows so stop worrying!" She sighed, it was a pain to. She was by any standards gorgeous, long shiny white hair, firm, shapely breasts, perfect ass and legs. And an eleven inch long dick. Perfect. Oh well. Eventually she might build up the courage to tell someone, maybe her trainer friend perhaps. It had been years since she'd seen her, since she'd gone off to become a Pokegirl trainer. Ever since then Sonata had been training to become a breeder, so maybe she could at least help her friend in some way. "Okay, Okay. Almost time to meet her at the gates!" She grabbed her backpack and her headphones, slipping them around her neck and the backpack over her shoulders then headed off. As she walked to the agreed meeting place she mused over what her friend would look like. She herself had changed quite a bit since they split off, she tried to imagine the girl all busty and hot like her. Somehow it wouldn't take, she imagined her a little more gothic, or alternative style. Though she had to stop visualizing as her member was beginning to respond. It was okay, her baggy cargo pants hid it unless she got a full on erection. She breathed deep and cleaned up her thoughts. Enough of that. She was almost there.

Kaia was surprised at the sudden appearance of the friend she hadn't seen in so long. She went with the embrace, pulling the pokemon breeder in close, noticing how much she had filled out. "My god, Sonata, look at your boobs!" she said quietly so as not to attract too much attention, "You look like a Miltank!" She giggled and stepped back so that Eve could step up. "This is Eve, my Eevee. She's a bit shy, so don't expect her to talk alot, but she's a very good girl. She's actually one of the reasons I'm back here." Eve curtsied slightly for Sonata then shook her hand. She smiled up at her, the tail flicking back and forth like a dog's tail. She found the breeder attractive as well, and immediately turned a crimson shade as her hands dropped to the front of her skirt and she took a step back to hide behind Kaia. The dark haired girl giggled again and looked up at Sonata. "I've found a Pokegirl to breed, Sonata, and I was hoping that you could help me train her for it. I know you've always wanted to be a breeder and I thought that I could help you by bringing your first trainee."

Sonata stopped dead when she rounded the corner and slid back behind it. Kaia, her friend, was coming through the gate to the city. She wasn't sure why, but she wanted to see the girl first, before they met. Kaia had grown as much as she had, accept where she became tall and busty, Kaia had become quite cute in an alternative sort of way. The scarf, her short black hair, and those glasses. She still wore those same glasses... Alright Sonata, you can do this. She put on her best smile and came around the corner. "Kaia! Do you recognize me? It's been too long!" She came up to the smaller girl quickly and gave her a big hug. She couldn't help but note Kaia's smaller, but firm breasts. Then she pulled away and turned to the Pokegirl standing next to her friend. "And is this one of yours? An Evee! Hello Evee, I am Sonata!" She held out her hand to the Pokegirl. Unlike some trainers, she couldn't look at Pokegirls as just tools, they were intelligent and had emotions. So couldn't help but treat them as a fellow human, in most respects anyways. Though this Evee was gorgeous, her big bushy tail was so adorable! She was trying hard to suppress a stiffening erection at the mere sight of the Pokegirl.

Sasuke had kept his mouth shut about this whole ordeal, Neji had to wear a dress and he was sure that was humiliating enough, he didn't need to add to it with any snarky comments. Now, if it were Naruto that had to do it then it would be free game, but as it were, he respected Neji enough not to torment him. It was a little confusing for him though, their plan didn't seem to be all that well thought out to be honest, the two of them trying to infiltrate a gang by posing as a couple looking for a good time really didn't seem like a well thought out plan, more like a last minute back up. Without a word, Sasuke had walked beside Neji as they got closer to the town, and couldn't help but give him side long glances. Thy Hyuuga actually lookedreallygood in that outfit, not that he would say that out loud. Neji just had the body figure to fit in the dress, and the long, brown hair added to the effect, not to mention pretty lips... those thoughts were shaken from the Uchiha's head, he didn't need to start thinking that way, not now. The Uchiha glanced up from the other's side and hip to look him in the eyes. Haunting they were, white with an almost purple undertone and a distinct lack of pupils. "That's probably for the best," he agreed with a slight nod and turned his eyes forward again in hopes to not make the other any more uncomfortable then he believed he was. "Our objective is to find a member of the gang, and persuade him or her to spend some time alone with us, at this point we must find a way to get him or her to give us information, most likely with bribes of joining the gang ourselves," 'or with the prospect of sex,' he added a little bitterly.

Neji sighed inwardly as he walked besides his 'partner' for this mission. He had been sent with one Uchiha Sasuke on a long term mission in a country far from their home. It had taken over 3 weeks just to travel to this place, and once they had gotten close things had started to get a little....strange. The mission had called for a pair...well....a couple, a male and female couple, unfortunately there had been no suitable Kunoichi available, and so....well here they were. The two of them were to infiltrate a large gang involved in anything and everything. Drug trafficking, prostitution, slavery, anything and everything, and they were growing all the time, even starting to encroach into the fire country and Konoha itself. They were to find out whatever they could about this gang, and apparently this town was one of their operation hubs. Neji smoothed down the sides of his dress slowly, not looking at Sasuke walking beside him as they neared their destination. Outwardly, Neji was displaying an attitude of anger and hatred at having to do this, deep down however he loved it....truth be told Neji had many articles of womens clothing at home that he loved to wear, he'd even borrowed Hinata's clothing from time to time, the thrill of it appealed so much to him, though it had always been in private, he'd never dressed like this before around other people. Still, it was for the mission, and of the two of them Neji was most definately the one who looked most like a girl. So here he was, wearing a long dress, even the bra and panties to accompany it, the bra padded to give him the appearance of a developing chest. "So..." It was the first time Neji had spoken since he had put on the clothing. His voice was somewhat feminine to further enhance the disguise....honestly he'd practised that voice for a long time now when examining himself infront of the mirror. "We should go over our story and our objectives one more time....don't you think?"

Sasuke nodded in agreement, but looked down curiously as his hand was taken. He gave a soft sigh and laced his fingers with the Hyuuga. The people that held his hands now and days were the girls that obsessed over him, and their hands were always sweaty, and he really detested them for getting so close. But with Neji, be it because of the mission or some other reason, he felt no urge to rip his hand away and glare. "The first thing we should do is book a hotel room, we don't know how long this will last and it wouldn't look good for us to be sleeping on the outskirts of the town." Seeing as he was the 'man' at this point, he gently guided Neji into the town, keeping the other close to him to look protective of his girlfriend. "And you should probably come up with a different name." They came across a fairly nice looking hotel, not five star and fancy, but not a roach infested mess of gross. Sasuke lead Neji inside and paid for their stay for the night and took the keys and stuffed them in his pocket.

Neji became aware of Sasuke examining him, but tried to ignore it. It was only natural the other boy would be a tad curious after all, especially about the reason Neji made such a convincing girl. Neji wasn't about to admit it was because he'd had a lot of practice though. "Yeah....we need to find a member of their gang with some kind of authority and lure him away....try to get some information from him, try to convince him we can be useful...once we infiltrate them we can find out where their base of operations is and infiltrate it to get the information we need....then burn the place to the ground to set them back....I just hope we don't have to resort to offering....those kind of services...." It sounded simple enough in theory, but unfortunately plans had a nasty habit of going very wrong very fast, that was why the two of them had been chosen for this mission. In their age group they were pretty much the two most reliable, not to mention the most subtle. After all, Naruto would've charged in all guns blazing, Chouji would've stuck out like a sore thumb, Lee wouldn't have been able to contain himself and Shikamaru almost certainly would've refused on the grounds that going so far would be too much hassle. The two of them were approaching the entrance to the town, Neji smoothing his dress one more time, before slowly holding out his hand. "We need to make it convincing that we're a couple so..." He hesitated for a moment, before quickly taking Sasuke's hand in his own. Despite his secret hobby of crossdressing Neji had never really though about relationships with other men before...so holding Sasuke's hand whilst they walked wasn't easy to do, at least not convincingly, but he buried whatever feelings of discomfort he had and just managed a soft smile as they began to come into view of other people. They only had one chance to make their first impression look convincing after all.

Sasuke had taken his partner's advice and gotten a room with one bed. If worse came to worst, he could sleep on the couch and if anybody asked they had fight. He was stupid and called his girlfriend 'fat' or something of the sort. Or they could share a bed, which ever Neji was comfortable with. "Alright Hinata, let's go," he agreed with a nod, feeling strange saying Hinata's name when it was directed at Neji. He made his way up the stairs and found there room. He opened the door with the key and stepped it. The room wasn't amazing, but it was better then it could be. It was better then a rat infested roach motel. "Would you like to take a shower first, Hinata-chan," he cooed. No he wasn't teasing, but he would have to get used to calling him that, plus if someonewasspying, it wouldn't do good to have them hear Sasuke call his girlfriend a guys name, or acting different towards 'her.'

Neji was slightly surprised at how easily Sasuke adjusted to their holding of hands, as if it almost felt natural. Still, there wasn't time to be confused, Neji just nodding slightly as he moved closer to Sasuke, allowing him to give the illusion of protecting his girlfriend....even though this 'girlfriend' was more than capable of protecting 'herself' if the need arose. "Yeah....we should get just one room....with one bed...otherwise it might make people suspicious..." Of course Neji realised that would mean them only having one bed, and more than likely having to share it. They couldn't risk one of them sleeping on the floor incase of any kind of spying that might be going on. "Ah...yeah...a name....I never thought much about that..." Neji slowly glanced away, thinking for a few moments. "I guess....I can just use Hinata....it's the only name that comes to mind..." At least it would be easy to remember aswell, making it much less likely that either of them might forget it. "Alright...we should go up to the room....probably get changed out of our 'travelling clothes' then head into town...try and find someone and arrange a meeting..."

Off in a clearing near the woods a war party was put together. With a large central bone fire the smoke bellowed high into the air and the heat was enough to keep even a warrior in Northrend warm. A Tauren warrior who had just come of age and whose father had allowed him to go moved over to a set of drums and started to play on them a tribal war song of Valor and passion. Soon two Orcs join in on the song and a troll shaman even added his own twist two the beautiful drumming music that filled the war camp with happy times as they prepared and partied. The Tauren warrior started to wonder if he would be able to meet a woman that he would not scare and they all seemed to slow the song some and yet it still held enough might to keep the dancing and party going without dragging down the mood though his had begun to shift. He didnt care and when one of his friends came he slipped out and switched places with him. Well at least I will be able to go into battle with my friends finally. He had grown tired of listening to their tails of glory and honor for the Horde. He had always been told to continue his journey grow stronger but now was his chance that great moment he had been waiting for and yet he was sad. Grabbing the nearest mug he could and walked to the edge of the clearing and sat by a tree and softly drank to the glory. He tried to remember the wise words of Cairen but was unable to remember his great wisdom at this moment.

Atya sighed deeply, boredom was getting all to common for her these days. She casually swept the silk curtains of her sedan chair aside and looked out into the deep forest in which her caravan traveled. Again she sighed with no-one but her fathers clockwork golems who carried the chair to hear her. She wished something would happen. Constantly moving, from town to town, following her fathers work, never having time to make friends or....find a man. She trailed her hand down her exposed abdomen, due to the heat she only wore a fine silk halter top, embroidered in gold. And from her hips hung a calf length split skirt of matching silk. She couldn't help but daydream, she was nineteen and she still had yet to feel a mans touch. She had long since dropped dreams of a gentleman lover to take her virginity. Lately she dreamed of a rough warrior. Bulging in muscle and brimming with masculinity. To take her over and over until she couldn't think straight. She trailed her hand up to her soft, pert breasts. But she ended up cursing in anger. She hated this life! She hated her father and his stupid golems! She needed to live and feel and experience the world! And experience the men in it... Another sigh escaped her soft, puffy lips. Alas....no such possibility was in sight. At this rate, she would be stuck as her fathers little girl until she was an old woman.

Sitting there for some time he heard the sounds of the music and it started to lift his spirits. Many things had crossed his mind maybe he would rape some of the alliance as he went through that way at least he would have a womans touch. Caerin had taught him too well though on to many occasions that you should not force anything on anyone. And he sighed and knew he should just go in there do as he was told and head home. Mind wondering onto other things and onto possibly sleeping with one of those young Dranei, and wondering if she would be able to even fit his cock in her mouth or even take his load. His cock was starting to grow hard at the fantasy. Hearing the sounds behind the tree he stood and thought about alerting the others. Then thought about that again if he caught and ended a scouting party on his own he could prove to them that he should have been here with them long and that he truly was a strong warrior for the horde. Taking and turning he looked around the corner just as the young beautiful Drainei had come around the corner of the tree and smiled at her, hearing the query of the young woman he offered his rather large mug of ale. Sure join us it would be great fun to have a woman here. He said to her and his hand came around as large as it was and grabbed her ass running his hand along her tail and smiled. He was showing how hard he was as his loincloth was lifted some and twitching his tail was flicking back and forth in his excitement maybe he would be able to find out just how a Dranei felt and be able to live out his fantasies.

Atya slowly leaned forward. She could swear she was hearing music. She parted her curtains and peeked out, her deep blue-violet skin flawless in the broken sunlight. Indeed, she was hearing music, a powerful tribal beat. Her tail began to twitch as the heavy drums and fast paced flute captured her mind, refusing to let it go. She turned her glowing eyes to her fathers Golems. She had to get away, wherever that music took her, she didn't care, it was better than this. She thought hard for several minutes, then began preparing a minor spell. "Alla saf negone!" She thrust her hand out the opposite side of her sedan chair and created an illusion. A large beast, stomping around and challenging the caravan. Without a pause the Golems set down her chair and charged off to battle it. She then created a second illusion of herself in the chair and bolted off towards the music. Her Draenei legs carried her swiftly through the underbrush, she took care not to hurt herself, but she moved as quickly as she could. She smiled and couldn't help but giggle as she felt so alive. She was away from her fathers clutches and making her own way. She had no idea what she would do, only that she would make the decision herself. She continued to move, following the music until she started hearing voices and seeing the flames of campfire. A camp? She was curious as to who. She slowed down and approached carefully, then gasped when the camp came into full view. She hid behind a tree and peeked out. It was a Horde camp. Filled with all her deepest fantasies. There were orcs, shirtless, wearing only loincloths, their thick muscles bulging and dancing around, drinking some drink and being rowdy. Sinewy Trolls moved about, some dancing, some making the music, their lithe, corded muscles made them look like vipers, ready to uncoil and strike. Lastly the Tauren. Massive beasts like she'd never seen, walking walls of muscle and power, occasionally one would move in such a way his skimpy loincloth would move to reveal a cock like she never even dreamed about. She was getting hot, and blushing, it was like her inner fantasies came to life with this Horde. But...she held no alliance to their enemy, still...how would they receive her? She didn't want to die...she didn't see any other women, perhaps they would enjoy her company? What man would refuse an eager young woman such as herself? Perhaps she was being naive, perhaps just stupid, but she had to try. She took a deep breath and gingerly approached a Tauren sitting alone... "Um...excuse me? This looks like quite...quite the party...could I...could I join you and your friends?"

Another eventful night, huh. This new voice came from another row of lockers opposite Damien. Standing there was a man not much taller than himself with shaggy dark blonde hair still damp from the shower he'd just taken. Tired dark eyes appraised the other briefly before looking away again. It just gets better and better. Currently, he was dressed only from the waist down and the standard Repo uniform could be seen peeking out f a worn brown duffel bag that sat on the bench behind him. The man was obviously strong, however he was more well defined than muscular. As he turned away to reach into his locker it could be seen that his entire right arm was missing completely. Ezra had lost his arm in an accident almost four years ago. Then he'd been working as a freelance artist and a talented one at that. The loss of his dominant arm put an end to what initially looked like a bright career. It killed him. Art was Ezra's passion, his livelihood. Having grown up in the slums and received no formal education, the young man had hoped his artistic skills could pave the road for a better life. Without the means to put those skills to use it felt like a light had gone out. When Geneco developed Synthelimbs it seemed like a godsend. They not only looked real, but through advances in neurosurgery doctors could reattach the nerves that allowed the prosthetic to feel and function like a normal part of the body. Advertised the next step in medicine, each prosthetic was carefully designed to fit the individual. They were detachable and bar-coded like the organ transplants. It was in signing up for one of these limbs that Ezra made his first mistake. The procedure was ridiculously expensive, he was poor and unemployed. Not a good match. But he was bound and determined and so it came to be that he found himself working for Geneco alongside his friend Damien. Withdrawing from the locker, Ezra sat down with the damning limb in hand. The arm was perfect, unscathed in contrast to the rest of the man's body which was, in short, not. Reposession was not a job that came without its risks, targets fought back, often violently. That night in fact, Ezra had earned himself a few bruised ribs and a black eye while retrieving a liver from a man twice his size. Quietly and without any ceremony he began to reattach the limp prosthetic to his shoulder. At the juncture of both his shoulder and the arm, were light metallic structures similar in makeup to a ball and socket joint. Joining them was almost like plugging prongs into an outlet. Once connected there was a crackling static-like noise and Ezra was wiggling his fingers and bending his elbow to test. He'd long since learned to ignore the discomfort of his nerves being constantly attached and taken apart. You look exhausted, he commented, rolling his shoulder before pulling a thin grey shirt over his head. I'd suggest taking the day off but...You know. He forced a smile and gathered his things. After each beginning their employment at Geneco the two had grown more and more distant. Even now it felt slightly awkward to address the man who'd once been his closest friend. Like Damien, Ezra did not have the luxury of being able to head home just yet. He still had a meeting with one of the Largos about their new ad campaign and after that.... Well he preferred not to think about the parties until the time came. Part of his contract was that he helped the family with whatever design ideas the had for Geneco. More than once he'd been tasked with finding a new look for some advertisement or holoboard commercial, because it was less expensive than hiring a licensed designer. That was what his talent was reduced to until the debt was paid off. Sometimes he had to wonder if it was worth all the trouble.

The city is diseased. Everything about the culture and the people is coated in enough rot to make doctors quail at the idea of doing anything about it. That is why everything is glossed up and made to look so pretty, because rot is perfectly okay if no one sees it. Yet sometimes the corruption drives people out to reclaim the small, pristine wonders of the world. That is why Damien was running after the single mother through back alleys and drug addled hookers desperately seeking some kind of release. Damien was not visibly troubled thanks to his mask, a generic model of the Repoman that had been handed out after that notorious backfire of one of the surgical soldiers years back. His suit was impressive and it didn't let any of the filth he walked on into it, boots crunching over empty zydrate bottles like they were nothing and pushing past rusted metal and broken glass to allow him a quicker path than the woman who had to focus on not dying thanks to the environment on her hunted run. It was both the suit and the environment that ended the hunt early with Damien's prey stepping on the glass seal of a syringe and the glass embedding itself in her foot. Damien caught up to her and placed his large bag of warrior-surgery tools down as he began to prepare himself for the work. "Please no! I just don't have the money! Johnny had to get a replacement knee! I will have the payment, I promise! Please! PLEASE DON'T DO THIS!" Damien used to feel sorry for people, and in a way he still did. Yet he still pulled out the scalpel and slammed the woman's head against the wall as he pressed the knife to her face. Well, it technically wasn't HER face anymore, but one of the grand "Pavi Brand Fetish-Skintastic Masques" that were so in vogue. Of course, hers was the previous popular model that were filling the vats of synthskin that reworked the masks into the newer model. It showed she really wasn't an addict and perhaps she just had fallen on bad luck. Still, he had a job. The masks had been made to be removed with simple surgical skill as those who followed the eponymous maker of the masks switched their faces out almost as much as he did. This is what happened when medicine was almost as much fashion as a life saving operation. The face ripped off with a sicking sound along the lines of wet cloth being ripped in half and was drowned out by the pained scream from the woman. Damien placed the face in a bag and looked down at the woman weeping tears and blood. There was a chance she could survive, one of the rare ones who could survive a visit from a repoman. She most likely wouldn't. The place was filthy. She was covered in grime and now her body was exposed. Damien turned and walked off, leaving the woman to writhe in the alley and howl with impotent pain. He had long since learned how to drown out the cries. His feet took him to a tall and imposing building, his special repoman key giving him access to the special employee entrance of his kind. He stood in silence as the elevator music, a bastardization techno remix of the final Blind Mag performance, played. He stepped off and went to the returns office, placing the face down on the table in front of a slightly overweight woman who was busy playing with her fiberoptic hair, changing the color from brown to purple. "Ah, Damien, good job. Such skill. And such a shame too, she only had two payments left on it. Ah well." She tapped into the computer, her fingernails clacking against keys as a little chit of paper printed out, "Here is your commission slip, don't spend it all in one place." Damien took the paper and walked away, his mask hiding his hatred for the woman. She was the niece, grandniece?, of the people who had supplied his medical school payments and ended up forcing him to work in this job. He walked into the employee locker rooms and dropped his bag with a crash. Work was done for the day. With the helmet off Damien looked a lot less imposing. His skin was nearly albino white thanks to a case of vitiligo that he had inherited from some great-grand relative way back in his past. He could easily have any type of melanin injected into his skin and thus emulate any race but he knew better than to try that path. His eyes were a dull brown which further hindered attempts at figuring out his natural race, as was the brown hair that hung limply in his eyes. As the suit cum armor came off he didn't seem like the typical repoman recruit. His muscle had been built up solely on the past two years hunting down organs and parts in the streets. He had been a simple man hoping to become a doctor. He placed those thoughts away as he hung his suit up in the washing department and began to clean off his helmet. He sat down on a bolted down bench and looked at his reflection in the helmet and wondered for the nth time how it had all come to this. Still, there was always the upside. He WAS a doctor. This was a side job that paid off his debts interest free, unlike the rest of his work. He opened his locker up and placed the bag inside it before noticing the single vial of zydrate he had left in the top where he placed his helmet. He briefly thought about taking it now but remembered the "party" he had to go to and thought better of it. He just needed a nice shower and maybe a good meal.

Ezra smiled tightly and nodded back as e slammed the door to his locker shut. He had to admire how the doctor tried to keep things cordial in light of their situations. "That sounds nice Damien. I'll call you sometime." An empty promise. He never called anyone. The truth was, doing this job had changed Ezra. He'd become withdrawn where as he'd once been friendly and outgoing. Meeting new people had been exciting, but now there was no telling when he'd run into a target in a shop or on the street. There was no point in getting close to someone you might have to kill later. This revelation made any kind of interaction outside of work very unappealing, Most of Ezra's spare time was spent painting and tinkering with his arm. It was impossible for him to look at a person as anything other than a victim or a monster; no gray area existed. Except for Damien. Damien teetered on the line separating black from white, because Ezra knew him. He knew the other wasn't like the Largos. He didn't enjoy killing or preforming fatal surgeries for audiences too jaded to appreciate simple pleasures. He was just another guy who'd fallen on bad times with only one way out. Geneco. After a few minutes passed Ezra followed his friend's path to the elevator, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Repo lockers were located six stories beneath Geneco headquarters. Far enough that the modern day bogeymen were out of sight and out of mind. People weren't supposed to think about what they could lose whenever they looked at the monolithic structure. They were supposed to see possibilities. Leaning against the cold metal wall, the blonde pressed the button for his floor. Entertainment and Advertising were thirty seven stories up. That would give Ezra plenty of time to work out what to do about Damien. The doors slid shut and he pulled a small notebook from his bag, flipping past opera set designs and costumes for Mag til he found a blank page. When would he be available? ...Tomorrow? No, tomorrow was the party, he didn't like to socialize after those. The day after he had three marks overdue for payment and Thursday they were launching a new line of face implants. ...Friday could work. Ezra tapped the pen on the notebook and chewed at his lower lip nervously. It had been so long. What would they even talk about? He could always ask Damien to pose for him again. He hadn't done any portraits in a while. The thought brought a faint smile to his lips. The other had been so fidgety the first time he'd been asked to pose, he'd found it immensely funny then. Perhaps this was a good idea after all. A polite ding announced to Ezra he'd reached his destination. He sighed and closed the book. Pavi was waiting, Amber too if she saw fit to show up this time. Personally he hoped she didn't. He could only design so many clothes for her, only paint her so many times before the so called "Face of Geneco" began to make him sick. Though she wasn't much worse than he creep of a brother. At least he didn't have to deal with Luigi in all of this. The man was a psychopath.

Damien smiled at Ezra. He remembered when they were younger and had had more fun. They had been pretty odd together, especially that time Ezra had traded him a Blind Mag first edition cd to pose nude for a few sketches for a week. They had been teens and Damien had almost thought it was going to lead to some odd pornographic story but Ezra had just needed to work on his art. Nothing had come of it. He also remembered the accident and wishing so badly that he was a doctor so he could perform the operation. He had been as shocked as Ezra to find his "coworker" in the Warrior Surgeon ranks. He had thought they would get to see more of each other, yet they had just grown apart. Perhaps it had been because of what they knew each other did. Perhaps it was because both of them were "honored guests" at the parties. Ezra was used to make sure Damien's surgery was "aesthetically pleasing" and made sure that he took no liberties with the corpses and victims for the guests. Perhaps it was just hard to look someone in the eye that you knew knew your own dark secrets. It could also be the fact that neither of them had much free time at all thanks to their debts. "I have to prepare for the party tomorrow. I...I think you'll be there too. You know, if we ever get some time off we should hang out again. Did you hear they rebuilt that old golf and arcade place we used to hang out at? New owners but I bet it has some of the old nostalgia." Of course they hadn't gone to that since they were both in their teens. The place had been shut down when the owner killed his wife who had been supplying the young kids with illegal zydrate. He had gone to jail, the place foreclosed, and there was nothing left. Damien still felt awkward. He walked by Ezra, his own clothes now missing as he decided on a shower. He was lucky in that he had never gotten as roughed up as Ezra, so far. He had a few scars of course, everyone in their line of work did after two weeks, but his body looked more whole. He also had no surgical marks at all. He was one of the rare few people who had never gone under the knife. He had his own tonsils, he had his wisdom teeth, he had everything. He just had never decided to get anything. "I-I guess I'll see you later, okay pal?" This was another reason he hated the people he owed money. He and Ezra used to be the best of friends. Sure they were the odd couple, but they still had each other. Now, with those debauched parties and over worked hours, they almost never got to see one another outside repo work or preparing for the "parties." The both could obviously use someone to talk to now. The job didn't come with a counselor, which made turn over more profitable.

As he pressed the button a holographic image of Ezra flickered to life, directly followed by a recording. The artist's voice was a little distorted by the machine and sounded as if he wasn't quite sure what to say. "Ah.... Hi, Damien? It's Ez...obviously.... Uh, I was just... I wanted to call and see if you were going to be busy on.... Friday? Yes, it was Friday. You said that we should hang out again, so...yeah. That's why I'm leaving this message, I guess." The slowly rotating image flickered as a cough interrupted Ezra's awkward spiel. "Right.... So, ah get back to me when you can. I'll see you." With that, the recording ended and the hologram disappeared. Back at his own apartment, the man in question was getting ready for bed after a night that had already gone on too long. The dwelling was small and crowded. It probably hadn't been clean since he moved in, if even then. Books and papers were littered everywhere. Painted canvases covered in dust leaned against the walls. Art supplies turned up in the oddest of places; tubes of paint under an end table, brushes in coffee mugs, even a few palate knives in with what little silverware he owned. The sink was full of dirty dishes and boxes from precooked dinners were spilling out of the trash receptacles. If Damien did agree to come over, Ezra was going to have a lot of cleaning to do. For now he didn't trouble himself and picked his way across the maze of trash and spots of paint to his bed which was really just an old double mattress on the floor. The sheets were the last thing he remembered actually going out and spending money on since the surgery. Paints and food didn't count since those were essentials. Vaguely he could recall going into a store and picking out a sturdy set of blue sheets. The clerk had gone on and on about how good for the skin the new synthetic thread count was, but he wasn't really listening. He'd just wanted something of his own, something he paid for that was just for him and no one else. In a way those sheets were the only things that really, truly belonged to him at this point. Ezra dropped heavily onto the mattress and let his eyes finally slide shut. It felt amazing to be able to just lie there and not have to think or speak. Too soon, it would be time to get up again and go to work. At least now he had something to look forward to. Within seconds he'd drifted off to sleep, prosthetic fingers curled tightly around the blankets.

Damien gave Ezra a generic kind smile, one of the ones he saved for the people he actually knew. Then it was straight into the shower. He turned the water on as hot as he could as if he could boil away the memories he had. He scrubbed himself while trying to forget about the day's work. At least he was finished for the next two days. The bosses never gave him a job on the day of a party just in case he would lose his "artistic edge" that made him so popular. His shower ended after he cleared his mind and he walked out, waving to one of the other repomen. His white skin was now an unhealthy looking red from the steaming shower. He grimaced a little as he grabbed his surgical outfit and his pay chit and walked out. He could wear enough that no one would notice until his body cooled down. It was one of the benefits of being a doctor. With little fanfare he inserted the pay chit and watched as his massive debt was taken down by two hundred and fifty dollars. Lovely. The face that, when new, had cost 250,000 had netted him around one percent of that. He sighed and walked by the pay machine while slipping on his surgical mask and head covering. His outfit was a lovely white and he had blue gloves that gleamed with the latex shine they had. He took the elevator to his correct floor and signed in. A nurse ran up to him and handed him a patient chart. A Ms. Espanoza had been admitted after someone had ripped her face off it seemed. Damien gave a wide eyed look at the chart and walked in on the same woman he had just cut up less than an hour ago sitting in bed with blood running into her and a rep talking about how synthskin faces were so much more affordable and cheap now and that if she'd just sign on the dotted line that she could go home interest free for six months. Damien felt his heart dropping as the woman signed the contract for the newer face even when she could have gotten another model for a quarter of the price. And he knew he shouldn't say a thing or it would be added to his debt. He gave up and walked to the medical center and grabbed a zydrate gun and vial and placed it against his neck, the click releasing the calming drug into his system. He felt the numbness and apathy spread through his system as he released what could almost be judged an orgasmic sigh. He tossed the gun down and then left a nurse's glove on it to implicate her. He walked back into the room and pulled his mask down, knowing the woman wouldn't recognize him, "Hello my dear, let us get you your new face!" It was several blissfully uncaring hours later when the drug wore off. Damien was a good surgeon, good enough that zydrate just took the edge off his own feelings. He had put several people back together today, and had operated on some man with enough money that he bothered to spend it on flesh pockets in his abdomen to carry his wallet and watch around in because some man on a soap opera had gotten the surgery. Looking back on it it was just sick and wasteful. He stumbled home and tried to focus on the good he had done. It was what made him feel better about himself. He unlocked the apartment and jolted in to fall on the couch. He rubbed his head and looked at his answering machine. Surprisingly there was a message for him. He reached over and pressed it, wondering who still cared enough to call him.

Ezra's face was blank as he moved to stand beside Damien and stare down at the corpse. He hated this part. It was bad enough to take lives indiscriminately on behalf of the company, but to further desecrate them like this... It took getting used to and even after all this time he still wasn't there. But that didn't mean he would do his job. "The body is well sculpted and almost immaculate. I think it would be best to focus on the face. Shave away the rest of it so that it's flat." Fitting. It's not as if these bodies had identities anymore after all. Their faces made no difference to the customers. In a sense, there was a kind of sick humor in it that maybe the others would fail to recognize, maybe they wouldn't even see the jab Ezra was making at them. His mouth quirked a bit and then settled back into a stony line. Just another canvas, that's all it was. "Don't leave any defining features. We'll remove the hair too." He circled around to the other side, lifting the body's arm and examining its hand with a detached interest. Perfect. Smooth, unblemished.Without warning he tightened his grip and broke each one of the fingers before repeating the process on the other hand. What did it matter what skills any of them had if in the end they'd only be taken advantage of? It didn't need talents, a sense of self. It was a corpse. A toy. Silently Ezra stepped back and tried to ignore the sickness rising in his stomach. "It's still not enough. We should paint him read or something. But don't cut him anymore." The others didn't matter. They'd slice gaudy designs into the flesh, remove a few hearts and strategically arrange the other organs. Holidays were the worst. Even he'd been given a tacky costume to wear and his only job during the party was to stand off to the side and observe. The main details were similar to Damien's, but without the medical gear. The main differences were the black fishnet sleeves and a red leather collar was wrapped round his neck just a notch too tight. He'd have fix it later, they were on a time crunch now.

Damien was pretty shocked, he had never expected Ezra to call. He had wanted to hang out but since the man had shown little initiative he always figured Ezra didn't want to do anything. Now he had to let him know that he was still interested. He called Ezra back but found the line going to the answering machine and he stumbled a bit, "Hey Ez, it's Damien. I'd love to get together on Friday. That would be perfect. If you want we could go to a bar or something...I have some extra cash saved up for a night out, I bet we could split some drinks or something. If you want. Give me a call back, okay?" The next day was the party. The majority of the day was normal, minor surgeries and checking up on patients, at least one he had put in the place. He had been called in somewhat early by those throwing the party, they had a new gimmick. He was met by a rather normal looking man who had a book and held it up, "Sis wants this done to the living meat. Get it done before the surgery. They are in the back next to the freezer. They are knocked out now but get to it. Chop chop." The man was an adopted relative of the family, one of those used by the near matron of the house. The surgery to be performed was a splicing of the vocal chords to produce music and brilliant song the more the victims were hurt. Damien gave a low whimper as he walked to the three patients, two girls and one boy around the ages of twenty, and began to work. The people were completely unresponsive as he snipped and chipped at their bodies, leaving the vocal chords mangled into a thing of horrendous beauty. It was a real monument to his skills that he could even do this, especially after just reading about it. Yet Damien was nothing if not a good surgeon, and it only took one hour per person to get the surgery done right. He would be brought his "special" surgical jacket and be forced to dress in it. This time, for the Valentine's Day Special, he had a bright red and black latex man thong that was visible from an open red and white rubber surgical jacket. His surgical mask was done in the shape of a heart with the arrow that kept it attached to his face. Even his scalpel was in the shape of an arrow to keep in theme with this wicked degradation of Valentine's Day. A new face came in with Ezra and motioned towards them, "People will be arriving in a few hours. Get the corpses ready first and then just add a few holes to the live ones. I think the people are going to want to add their own flair to it. Ezra, make sure everything says Valentine's Day, okay? Damien, baby, the Marquis just LOVED the corpse vaginas you crafted on the corpses last time, do that again for him, okay? And make sure the male corpses can hold an erection that won't break under...hmmm...Mr. And Mrs. Adlestein...take the...five hundred and sixty pounds, okay? It would have been somewhat embarrassing last time if they weren't drunk. Okay boys, now get to wooooooooo~ooooooooooork!" Damien looked up at Ezra and looked like he was grimacing. He hated these outfits he was made to wear, he hated defiling corpses, and he hated his bosses. He took out the first corpse, a rather beautiful man except for the place where his face was skinless from trailing on the road after his motorcycle accident. Damien looked up at Ezra one time and decided it was better to start now than get penalized, "W-what should I do to this one?" He looked forward to starting on the live patients with a morbid paradox of great proportions. He disliked that part of the job the most yet it was also when he allowed himself to become emotionally deadened by the zydrate he got special order from Ms. Sweet. They had been something of an item before, though never as much as the tabloids had suggested. She had taken a shine to him because he was the only person she had ever met that didn't have any surgery done to him. The infatuation had lasted almost three days but she liked him enough to send him free zydrate still, plus he offered her a free surgical hand for her addiction. It was a mutual "friendship" that didn't have that messy necessity of talking to one another except on the rare blemish on their relationship.

Ezra hung back from the crowd, watching with apathetic disapproval. It was this that he hated above all. These people were the monsters. Their appetites for the depraved and dissolute were insatiable. And society accepted them without question. It disgusted him to the very core of his being, because he knew these people saw nothing wrong with what they were doing. When the victims screams for mercy turned to song, they laughed in delight at the craftsmanship. No mercy, no hesitation. Keeping to his darkened corner so as to avoid the festivities, the man hoped that perhaps tonight no one would bother him. The holidays always brought out the worst in the guests. More than once someone had tried to purchase him, or mistaken him for a live toy. He wasted no time in setting them straight, but having to do so was an annoyance. So he did his best to stay out of the way and wait until the night was over. Did Damien ever have to deal with this? Hed have to ask him. It wasnt long after Gigaslut6niner arrived that The Largo brothers followed. Amber was no doubt too busy getting her zydrate fix or some new surgery to show up. Even if it wasnt for the right reasons, Ezra appreciated her for that. Pavi skipped off to investigate a neglected woman whose skin had been peeled back to reveal her ribcage and beneath that, a still beating heart. Meanwhile Luigi made his way to stand beside Gigaslut and pull her into a violent embrace. The pair of them were known to often take part in relations privately and publicly that most involved with Luigi Largo could not survive. They tolerated one another to an almost alarming point. More than tolerated. And somehow, neither of them was dead. His lip curled in revulsion and he dropped his gaze to the floor, but only for a short time. Hed learned from many times attending these parties that to keep ones eyes lowered indicated a sort of submission and would give the wrong impression. The last thing Ezra needed was some forty something soccer mom with a dom complex asking if he was available. Deceptively beautiful music swirled around the room, filling the air with the dying cries of those still living. They faded only to be replaced by new voices that begged for mercy and received none. One day he'd burn this place to the ground along with everyone in it. When he could afford to live on his own time, paint what the wanted to paint, be content that he wasn't going to return home each night with blood on his hands. Ezra allowed himself a small smile at the fantasy. How beautiful it would be to see these people suffer, to hear their agonized screams for help as the flesh melted away. All their painstaking effort in maintaining a perfect appearance for nothing. Because what good were all their expensive surgeries when they were dying? He folded his arms across his chest and scanned the crowd for the one person he had any interest in looking at. It was unhealthy to dwell on such ideas anyway. If he continued to harbor that kind of violent resentment he'd be no better than the people who employed him. Ezra's gaze finally found Damien amidst the crowd and he relaxed a little. His friend always did manage to have that calming effect on him even when they weren't speaking. Awkwardly the artist tried to adjust the uncomfortable codpiece he's been suckered into wearing. Overall the entire get-up was very uncomfortable not to mention revealing. There wasn't much to be ashamed of considering the state of dress some of the guests arrived in, but he felt nervous all the same. Why did he even need to be hear for this? His part was done.

Damien did as Ezra requested, though he added the love holes to the people, crafting false vaginas and penises as he worked. He removed facial features but on several of the corpses he had to expose the heart for special fetishes that would be required. They worked and made the "artistic improvements" for over two hours, leaving only a few minutes for the live victims. This really mattered very little as the people who were invited liked to do their own ministrations to the live ones. The male was injected with a powerful viagra-like stimulator that would keep him hard no matter how much blood he lost or what pain he went through. The women were injected with an aphrodisiac that would keep their vaginas moist and ready for the fucking. Right after he injected the drugs Damien ejected the small canister and popped in his final case of zydrate. It was time for the blissful drug-addled oblivion that allowed him to get through all this work. "Well, it's about to start, Ezra. I guess I'll wake up somewhere at home." He placed the injector to his neck and pressed, letting out a minor sigh of relief as the drug rushed into his system. Luckily the parties were far enough apart that he had yet to reach an addiction to the drug that so many people had found. The work he did was just too horrendous for him to work with normally. The three live people were woken up and their gurneys wheeled into the center of the huge room. It was decorated with lavish ornamentation and had two large spiral staircases leading up to what could be thought of as the VIP room that overlooked the grand ballroom. It was almost the size of half a football field, with the various corpses placed at different intervals and angles in the room. There were places for food and several servants were running about. People with make up came out and primped up the corpses and added different types of lubricants to both corpse genitalia and the live people. Different sexual devices were arranged at strategic locations; from the simple dildo to odd things that looked more akin to power tools than anything that would stimulate a sexual need. Damien vaguely heard the guests milling outside as he walked over to the first live woman and tapped her stomach. He made an incision on her stomach, a very bland love hole, and took up arrow-shaft shaped clamps to cut off arteries and veins that he snipped. The woman awoke and began what should have been a howl of pain. The surgery to the vocal chords came to light then: she sung a beautiful melody. He cut again and the song grew even more delightful as he worked, his mind fogged enough that he just heard the song and didn't think of it. The throats were set in such a way that the more agony inflicted on the person the greater their cries would turn to singing. From low pop music sounds to the greatest opera singers known to the world. Of course, the last breath would sound the sweetest, Damien had done excellent work. He just didn't want to think of that now. The woman was left with a few love holes in her, enough for people to poke and prod and even place drinks in should they want. Her whimpers of pain were transmuted into light blasts of musical prowess as Damien began work on the male. The viagra had worked and he was sporting a huge erection, it even lasted as the first cut was placed on his side. More clamps, more screaming. Damien left two marks on him and went to the final girl, slicing places on her breasts for people to violate thanks to their size. It would be quite popular. It was time for the people to enter. Men and women of all shapes and sizes, but generally just one income bracket, came through the doors. Many crowded around what appeared to be the favorite corpse or went to check out the live ones. No one touched yet, that would be a terrible idea. Instead, they milled about and shared food and swapped stories about submissives or the latest kink described on the blog of the woman who ran this. It was said she had been funding leper porn in some far off country with all sorts of disturbing action sequences. Then the woman of the hour entered. In her earlier life she was known as Lucretzia Giovanni, one of the Giovannis who had a connection with the Largos. Her great grandmother had slept with Rotti Largo when he was a young child, her mother when he was closer to her age, and Lucretzia had done it just because it was a habit. But, where the Largos worked with organs and doctors the Giovanni managed business and the repomen. Well, they had when dear Amber decided to expand the organization. Of course, good Lucretzia didn't work much with that business, her drive was sex. Sex was power and she was nothing if not ruthless. That is why she had shed her given name when she came to power. There was no Lucretzia Giovanni anymore, there was just Gigaslutsix9er. She had tan skin from her Italian heritage and wore her black hair up in a bun. Her dress was a black rubber mockery of Victorian style and showed off her back. Her back had various scars and staples in it to hold the skin together, a surreptitious "L" shape to one of the scars. No other "flaws" touched her body and her face was completely beautiful in the way a predatory animal was. Her eyes were a green that bordered on toxic while her lips pursed with a special black lipstick for the engagement. Her bracelets trailed off into slender silver chains that wrapped around the necks and arms of slaves who followed her, two of them holding what looked like a grand trophy filled with feces behind them. Her nails were lacquered with black and brass hook paintings on them. She looked every bit the impressive royal with all the sadism of Elizabeth Bathory coursing through her. "Ladies and Gentlemen, Whores and Sluts all! Welcome to the Valentine's Day Special of Gigaslutsix9er!" She yelled, her hands held up for emphasis. She allowed the crowd to clap and whistle before she silenced them, "I have invited only the most debauched and degenerate of those who follow me. Those of you who impress me with you dedication to true depravity! Remember, my flock, sex is everything, and I am sex!" There were more cheers as the rest of the Giovanni motley arrived. Her oldest brother was followed by a pack of genetically and surgically altered men and women who looked like the old trope of "furry." He had a lust for anthropomorphic animals and paid his sex partners vast amounts of money to be transformed into their shapes. Of course, he was also extremely jealous and if any of them dared like anyone better than himself, well, his sister had ways. He was Niccolo Giovanni, and he had ceded his title of the family to his eldest sister instead of ceding his balls. He got a good stipend and got to exercise his fetishes, so he was pleased. The third eldest of the current Giovanni generation, Catarina Giovanni, was dressed like a cyber-punk princess. Her hair oscillated between colors that were patently unnatural and her eyes were modular pieces designed specifically for her. Today they were spinning images of sapphire hue. Her clothing consisted of wires glued to the skin that barely covered her body, leaving more flesh exposed than anything. She had a small battery pack that sent electrical charges through the wires so she could get her fix. Her boots were made of panda fur and her gloves were each made from the skin of their dear departed father who she had fucked to death so the kids could ascend the throne. Thus she had gotten dibs on his remains. The youngest Giovanni was rather bland compared to them all. He had black hair and olive skin and his eyes were a bit tamer than his sisters. He wore a general business suit and black gloves so he wouldn't have to touch anyone here. He was Antonio Giovanni and he was rather disdainful of all this. Personally he liked to fuck his corpses in private and not share with anyone. Still, he needed to show up. Damien had settled to the back as soon as Gigaslutsix9er showed up. He said nothing as she spoke and a servant placed wires on the living party favors, "Now, let the night begin! WE SHALL SHOW THE WORLD THE TRUE MEANING OF KINK!" With that a switch was thrown and the three people were electrocuted mildly, their songs reaching the crowd who oohed and aahed with delight. The party began.

Ezra blinked in surprise when Damien dropped into the chair beside him and smiled up through a zydrate induced haze. They never made contact with one another at these parties, always keeping to some designated spot for the rest of the evening until it was time to go. The artist thanked his lucky stars that he wasn't part of the clean up crew, that would have just been too much. As he looked down at his friend and listened to the almost childlike way he spoke, it struck him that he'd never seen Damien act this way at the benefits before. He seemed almost cheerful. It was kind of amusing. This would be the first time they'd ever really talked on the job before. Perhaps it was something they should try more often, since it made a welcome distraction from the chaos going on around them. "I'm always here", Ezra pointed out patiently, well aware of Damien's habit. How could he be not when he saw him taking vials from his locker after a job? To be fair, he couldn't blame the doctor for wanting some way to separate himself from his work. He personally had never experienced the drug's affects, not even in surgery, when they had replaced the bones in his shoulder with metal alloy needed to connect the new arm. The pain had been unlike any he'd ever known, but Ezra had point blank refused to be put under. He'd seen what happened to zydrate addicts on the streets where he lived and he was not going to end up like that. As a result, the joints still ached at times and occasionally woke him from a sound sleep, but it was worth it to know he wasn't selling his belongings to satisfy an addiction. Of course he'd never mention any of this to Damien who he worried might take it as an insult. "We just never talked before, that's all. So which lady off-" Luigi's voice rose suddenly, calling attention away from the seedlings of their conversation. By now, he was through fucking Gigaslut6niner and was currently engaged in what looked to be a shouting match between him and Pavi. The younger of the pair was grabbing his crotch and making some lewd comment that caused Luigi to bellow and slam his fist into the face of a GENtern who'd made the mistake of standing too close. Ezra snorted and turned away again. Those two were positively absurd. Once his attention was back on Damien, the blonde could feel a fresh heat rising in face. Earlier, when they'd been preparing the bodies, he hadn't really gotten a good look at the costume his friend was wearing. Like his own, very little was left to the imagination and he couldn't help but not that the other truly did have a very attractive body. He'd seen Damien naked before, but it had been so long ago. At this stage in his life Ezra determined he had no business reacting to partial nudity like this when it was something that surrounded him even at this very minute. Looking at the doctor this way made him very aware of his own state of dress and he cursed whoever had been chosen to design the costumes for tonight. The worst part was, that because he lacked any kind of shirt, the juncture between his clavicle and prosthetic was clearly visible. It was a little thing, but it made Ezra feel more self conscious that he was used too. "I can't believe you get to wear a jacket, man. I'm freezing my ass off in here."

Gigaslut6niner didn't much mind when Luigi came up to her. She also didn't mind getting slapped and having him reveal her breasts to the entire crowd. He knew not to ruin the outfit, which was what truly mattered in all things. She absolutely loved when he smashed her face into a table and held her down, his other hand ripping her panties low. It was ecstatic. She was not always dominant, of course, but she was very selective to whom she submitted to. Not to say she never dominated Luigi, it was just rather fun to swap up every time. She gave the most wonderful moan when he slashed across her back with the knife, her blood beading up with the shallow cut. He was a filthy tease to start things out with. The bastard. Her legs felt the draft of air and she was vaguely aware of her disgusting sycophants running to gather up vials of her blood. The piteous wretches would do anything to get a piece of her. She snapped her fingers and the two slaves with the giant cup of feces ran up, the young lady speaking up first. "We have the personal scat cup of the Mistress herself, just filled before the party!" That sent a clamor of miserable bastards after the poor slave, knocking the unaccustomed one over as the pro just moved out of the way. The one being trampled would likely die, or at least be maimed. Nothing big, she had just been a pretty face. Nothing great. The sex went harder and she felt her flesh part at the first REAL cut. There was that odd sensation of a cold burn that just grew sharper as the copper scent hit her nose. The blood was warm on her flesh, something she almost never noticed as she focused on the cuts themselves. "DO IT AGAIN! I AM YOUR WHORE! I AM YOUR SLUT! OWN ME! OWN ME!" She cried and bucked, feeling full even as she bled out. Luigi was good, she wouldn't die. But she would enjoy it. Damien had been left all alone as the stampede for the fecal matter of the hostess had drawn so many people away. He looked up in a haze wondering where that nice lady he had been talking to had made it to. He was a bit slow, his head turning this way and that as if he was in water before catching sight of Ezra. He knew that man! His coat billowed behind him and showed off his nipples thanks to how loose it was when he walked. He skipped when he was cut in front of by an excited person who decided to get his hooks into a free corpse before falling. Damien looked more surprised than hurt, his eyes dilated as he searched around for where his legs had gone. In a few moments he was up, dusting himself off from muscle memory as he tried to cut through the haze in his memory. He had been walking for some type of reason, he just couldn't fathom it for now. Then Ezra hit his field of view and he decided to go talk to him. Ezra was a nice guy after all. He managed to make it this time, the dusty haze of his trip making his movements a little shaky. "Ezra, hey. I am glad you are here. I don't know many people here. I was talking to a nice lady though, said she'd color all my skin purple for free. I didn't know they had body painters here." He was lucky, in a way, that he had remembered that woman wanting to beat him bruised was in his mind as a body painter. He draped an arm around a chair and sat down, looking rather cute. At least as cute as a zydrate addled vitilligo suffering doctor could.

Ezra blinked in mild surprise when he found his friend's coat draped around his shoulders. He hardly had time to mutter a thank you before someone called for Damien's attention. Wrapping the long coat a little tighter around his body, the man rose to his feet and returned to the spot where he'd been standing before. His eyes remained on the doctor as he jogged off to attend to whoever needed him. It had been a while since he really looked at Damien and he'd forgotten how attractive the other man was. Ezra had never really thought of himself as gay. Woman tended to be the main source of his interest most of the time. However that didn't stop him from admiring his friend from time to time, not that he'd ever let on. This time he didn't draw much attention and it wasn't long before the festivities wound down. As people trailed out of the room, he finally let himself relax a little. Now was the time when maintenance took care of the bodies and cleaned up what other messes had been left behind in the guests' enthusiasm. A small break room was provided for others like Damien and Ezra, and that's where he was headed now. He'd have a little something to drink to dull the memories of the evening's events and wait until it was time to go home. Lucky it wouldn't be long now, his arm was beginning to ache. The break room wasn't well furnished by the standard the visitors were held to. All the furniture was old, and there were stains on the couch cushion. The garish red paint on the walls was peeling and the floor looked as though it hadn't seen a good cleaning in months. None of this bothered Ezra. He'd seen and lived in far worse. With a wide yawn the artist dropped onto a vacant love seat and closed his eyes. Damien would no doubt be along shortly and they could discuss their plans for the next day. Since the doctor would still be a little high on the zydrate, he'd probably be more honest about what he wanted to do. So thoroughly exhausted, Ezra didn't hear the footsteps entering the room until their owner was practically standing over him. Opening one eye in irritation, he glanced up to see who'd interrupted his thoughts. Sneering down at him was one of the other designers he worked with at the parties. Harold? Henry? Something like that. The younger man had been one of the interns most likely to earn a permanent position before Ezra had been hired. the never talked, but Ezra wasn't foolish enough to believe he was in the other's good graces. "You really must be more full of yourself than I thought" Harold/Henry snorted while the other gazed up at him boredly. "Just lying around like you own the place. Anyone else would be scared to even blink on a night like this." Ezra rolled his eyes. Was that all? This was, what... The second time this guy had ever approached him of his own volition? It was like being back in high school. "Maybe you didn't notice, but everyone just left to eat. What do I have to worry about? Why don't you just take a load off over there and quit bothering me." He let his eye slide closed again and missed the look of fury that washed over his colleague's face. "Don't fucking brush me off Valens! Chirst... I'm so sick of your shit. We all are. You have more to worry about than you think." That last statement confused him a little and he opened his eyes just in time to see the other man pulling a switchblade out of his pocket. Shit. Ezra watched the kid closely, tense. The other made no move to attack him yet, perhaps he was just trying to intimidate? "Do you know how hard the rest of us had to work to even get into this joint as a fucking janitor?" Harold/Henry's fingers curled around the weapon. "It's not like your ideas are any better than ours. No way. I here they got you workin' up at Geneco advertising too. How many cocks did you have to suck to get that job, huh? some uneducated shit like you." Ezra's eyes flashed from the man to the door and back again. This guy was all talk.He'd just let him run at the mouth and wait for an opportunity. Still the words were getting to him. The second he got a chance he was going to beat the living crap out of this asshole.

Damien was oblivious to most of what was going on, which was lucky in its own way. He looked up at the two brothers having a scuffle and then winced, "Maybe she needs help. He is always so crude. I'm glad I never have to work on him." He didn't move to go up and help the woman; no amount of drugs could persuade him to do that and still keep him even barely lucid. He watched as the woman fell to the floor and rolled about. She would probably not die but she might re-decide her career. Gigaslut6niner was bleeding rather profusely and had a doctor come out and start stitching her up with brass thread. She gave the most disturbing moans as her flesh was forcibly knit back in proper placement. She gripped the edge of the table in sheer ecstasy as it happened, her knees going weak slightly. Many people crowded around and others dabbed up drops of blood with handkerchiefs and other unmentionables to try and sell later or even as a souvenir of the nights revels. They were ignored by the lady of the evening as she felt the multifaceted stings of the needle and pleasured herself to it, delighting the crowd on the floor that was not in the throes of necrophilia. The chaste looking brother of the Giovanni line looked at his sister once and shook his head, turning his attention to a dead boy of around nineteen years old. He gently rubbed his still face and gave a light sigh. They were so much more beautiful when they had died. None of those tricky emotions to play with, no fear they were going to find someone else and run away, and there was no need to take care of them. Maybe it was an egotistical selfishness or the ultimate fear of betrayal but Antonio just couldn't stay away from his precious corpses. He unzipped his pants and grabbed some of the nearby lube, readying himself. Damien turned to Ezra when he spoke and looked extremely concerned, "You should have told me earlier. Here." He stood up and pulled his fetish coat off and wrapped it around Ezra, hoping that it would warm him up, "There. That should be better. It's not good if you get sick. Then Friday might get canceled. I've missed being with you for so long." The drug was loosening his tongue, but Damien was still a good friend. He patted Ezra on the shoulder and then heard "Doctor!" coming from somewhere. Clad now in boots, a surgical mask, and a thong Damien grabbed his doctor's supplies and dashed off to where he was called to. He got more looks now, even if most of the people were more interested in the party favors. Still, Damien and Ezra weren't technically off limits, the mistress just didn't like them being toyed with. Damien almost deftly countered touches to his body as if he was some acrobatic germaphobe and all these people were just tainted beyond reasoning. Soon the party came towards a culmination, leading up to the grand feast. All sorts of random items were brought out, and the supposedly "delectable" items of cooked human flesh. It was still a minor taboo at least and these people did love shattering them all to hell. Damien and Ezra and others would be left while people shuffled off to dine.

Ezra had been so engaged in figuring out how he was going to get out of his current predicament he almost didn't notice Damien's entry. A cool relief swept over him for he knew it would only take a word to get Harold/Henry to disperse with his threats and scamper off. He wouldn't want to risk getting reported and probably wasn't violent at heart. It was all very well to intimidate but it was rare for someone like him to actually follow through? A different matter altogether. However it seemed that just having a quick word with his would -be assailant was not Damien's preferred course of action. In a flurry of motion the doctor had launched himself drunkenly at the younger man, the tools of his trade glinting in the room's sick yellow lighting. Harold's cry of shock at the needle embedded in his arm soon became a pain filled shriek when the scalpel blade slashed across his face. The second the knife had been removed from his immediate vicinity, the blonde rolled off the couch and hurried into the midst of the fight. Damien's clumsy brutality, and Harold's panicked efforts to escape kept him from getting into the thick of it, which was probably for the best as he wasn't quite sure who to side with. Even like this his friend had a clear advantage. Not being nearly as incapacitated as Damien, the terrified man dashed out of the room, clutching his face and shouting promises of retribution that Ezra didn't hear. He made no effort to stop him and instead knelt on he bloodstained carpet beside the other man. "No, I'm fine. I don't think he would of actually tried anything. You shouldn't have fucked him up so bad." Of course given the opportunity, Ezra would have turned that asshole black and blue for the things he said, but that was before Damien took a hack at his face. "You ever thing maybe this zydrate thing's getting a bit out of control?" he asked gently as he peeled off the coat and returned it to its rightful owner.

Damien was actually helping clean up a little as the party dwindled. He also went over to the final surviving member of the choir he had set up and mercifully killed her as swiftly as he could with a stab to the heart. He liked to imagine he could see some amount of happiness in her eyes but deep down he knew he was deluding himself. She would have been happy if he had never touched her, if she had never been captured. While he might have given her a small mercy it was nothing compared to what he could have done if he had only freed her instead of allowing her to be a plaything of these people. He groaned and held his head as the thoughts of guilt raced in his mind. The zydrate was wearing off and his jovial attitude was fading. In another hour he'd be at home curled up into a ball as he shivered himself to sleep. He touched his shoulder and realized he didn't have his coat on. He thought back with some difficulty and remembered he gave it to Ezra because his friend had been so cold. He looked about the party floor and saw no Ezra so he figured checking out the 'waiting room' might be his best bet. He fetched his doctor's bag as he knew he had to return them to Gigaslut6niner or else he would end up in a world of crap. He wandered towards the waiting room as he avoided the puddles of blood, semen, and less palatable items that sometimes defied description and even reality. He poked his head into the room to see a confrontation between Ezra and some minor artist who was mostly used to scout locations for good people to pick up and abuse. Damien fought the fuzziness in his head as he strained to listen into the conversation. There was jealousy, yes, but he could not figure out over what. This artist was yelling at his friend for some reason, some jealous and as far as he could tell petty reason. Damien didn't much care for how the man was spouting off nonsense as if Ezra himself personally set up his position and kept other people from it. Then came the switchblade. Damien was already hidden enough that he couldn't be noticed but now he definitely didn't want to be seen so he ducked back outside fully. He opened his doctor's bag and searched carefully for what he needed. He pulled out a syringe and a scalpel and readied both of them like some kind of macabre warrior before he burst into the room. Of course bursting would be a very friendly descriptor. Damien fell in like some kind of drunken sailor and jammed the needle into the mans arm so hard that the needle splintered off before the full syringe was emptied into him. Of course that didn't matter as the numbing agent was exceptionally powerful and given to him in case any of the lovely patients of his matron decided to try and escape from their imprisonment. Damien fell onto the table and propped himself up with the arm holding the broken syringe and swiped the scalpel fiercely across Harold/Henry's face. The wicked arc sliced through skin and even bone as it finished its descent, leaving no sign for a second. Then a vivid red line appeared and the artist's eye oozed the viscous fluid inside as it started splitting apart. Damien watched as the artist started screaming. He gave a little sneer and slashed at the artist again, this time over extending himself in his stupor as his slash missed and he fell on the floor. The artist ran out of the waiting room, leaving Damien with the time to turn around and look up at Ezra, "So...hey...I need my coat back. And are you okay? I didn't want him to hurt you. You're my only friend here."

By the time Friday rolled around Ezra was more than ready for a break. The Largos had been running him ragged with this new ad campaign and on top of that the Repo excursions that followed were getting more and more brutal. Time really was money and he couldn't afford the time it took to be neat. It was ten o clock in the morning and he was now staring uncertainly at the phone, willing it to ring so he wouldn't have to make the call. What if Damien wasn't interested anymore? He'd been awfully high that other night.. Sighing he ran a hand through unkempt blond hair and abandoned the phone to return to the kitchen. The stove was gathering dust from months and months of neglect, and wrappers were scattered across the floor. Ezra stood up on his toes to reach into an already open cabinet and remove a dehydrated dinner box. He lived off these more often than taking the time to make actual food. Cooking took too long and he wasn't all that skilled at it. Boxed meals and bags of chips were much easier to deal with. Crossing back to the phone with a jerky strip dangling from the side of his mouth, the artist eyed the device with heavy disapproval before he picked it up and punched in Damien's number.Come on and suck it up.You won't know if you don't fucking ask.

Damien slowly got to his feet with help from Ezra and took his coat. He dusted himself off in a rather knee jerk reaction as the floor had no dust or dirt and anything that this party might leave as refuse would need a scalding bath and sanitizer to properly get off of one's body. He looked at Ezra and seemed to get very serious for a second, his eyes focusing completely on his artistic friend. Then the mood disappeared and he replaced the scalpel back into his bag. The syringe was expendable as he was help if anyone should get out of hand. "You are so cute when you worry, Ezra. I am glad he didn't hurt you. I just look forward to Friday now! Really, I do!" He laughed jovially and moved forward, kissing the artist on the forehead, "You did so well today, even if you were cold. I do hope my jacket helped. And the zydrate is fiiiiiiiiine. You don't have to worry about a thing!" Of course if he had been more lucid the needle wouldn't have broken and he would have just had to threaten the other artist. As it was this was mildly more than he had intended to do. He gave a final little wave and took his jacket and supplies as he left the room. He would turn in everything he had been given to the servant who was making this party go off without a hitch. She took the items and handed Damien his clothing back; it was a bit of a failsafe that kept the people in the party. If they ran off they'd have no clothing besides very unstable and unprotected party clothing that would get them noticed and killed by the dangerous people of the street. Damien wouldn't see Ezra again that night, his zydrate rush having worn off and his memory of kissing Ezra on the forehead flooding back to him. He had realized he liked his friend in a sexual way after posing naked for him, perhaps a few months after that. Really he was the only person he had formed any real strong bond with. His mom hadn't approved of his "slumming it" with his friend but she had also cut him off from their money as soon as he turned down being his father's successor in the business. He was still too embarrassed as he got home to call Ezra and apologize, and he was too embarrassed to see if they were still on for the next day. He went to bed worried, hoping he hadn't fucked over everything.

Well that had certainly been easier than he anticipated. Damien had been so eager, he just let him do all the talking until they agreed on a time and disconnected. Placing the phone back in its cradle, Ezra finished his breakfast and returned to the kitchen area, where he made a halfhearted attempt to clean before giving up and going to get dressed. It wasnt as if hed invited his friend over. No one was going to see the mess but him. Once more he glanced at the clock and realized that nine was still quite a ways off. He felt unusually fidgety, uncertain of what to do with himself. A shower wouldnt be out of the question but it was so early, it seemed like it might be better to wait. He could always practice his painting. That was what he used to fill his spare time with, but after a number of less than desirable results Ezras motivation had dwindled. Pulling on some old work clothes, he flexed his mechanical fingers and stared at the empty easel at the other end of the apartment. Stacked behind it it were rows and rows of failed projects. Months worth of his effort to adjust to the artificial limb that replaced the original. He pursed his lips and approached it like one might a potentially dangerous animal. Even after all this time he could still feel a hint of that old spark that had driven him to pursue art, to spend endless late nights devoted to his craft and come away covered in paint and sweat with a sense of pride and satisfaction nothing else could provide. Another look at the clock. He had a little over ten hours before hed see Damien. Ezra took a deep breath and began uncapping his paints. Eight and a half hours later, the man had transformed a blank canvas into a burning abstract of a cityscape, not quite finsished and not quite dreadful. In fact, Ezra felt rather pleased with the results. His nails were caked with dried oils and his hair was a stringy, sweaty mess, but for the first time in many months he felt like hed accomplished something. He was reluctant to turn in his brush in favor of a quick shower, hiowever the prospect of seeing Damien was enough to fuel him into taking a break.

Damien was getting ready for work, his actual and legitimate work, when the phone rang. He walked over and picked it up almost last minute because his pants weren't fully on, "Hello, Damien Kumar speaking." He was elated to hear the voice of his friend. Or who he hoped was his friend. He was also delighted that the first few words were not "I AM SUING YOU FOR SEXUAL HARASSMENT!" It was great. "Of course we are still on! I was sort of worried you might not want to get out. I am sorry, I get very bizarre on zydrate sometimes. I didn't want you to think I was a hardcore psychopath...as much as you can say someone in our profession isn't. It's just a job, right? One that has no choice to it." There was humor to that but it was a bitter and sour type, one where they would both laugh awkwardly while desperately thinking of something nice to say to lighten their spirits if just so they didn't dive into the moral quandaries in their own heads. Damien thought and brought up what to do, "I have to work a bit late, but meet me at the Golden Light Pub. It is on the corner of Write and Cornerstone Street. I should be there around nine tonight if everything goes well. If not, well, perhaps around ten. I cannot wait to see you there." He hung up the phone after all the talk and wondered if he came off like some pedantic boy with a crush. He hoped he hadn't. He finished getting ready and walked out the door, his hat hiding his skin from the sun. Not that the smog and muck of the city let much sun in, but there was enough that the albino felt uncomfortable. He dashed to his car and slid in, driving off to the doctors office. He parked in his much too special spot and went into a special elevator that led to a special hallway. "Special" was how he saw it as no patients were allowed back here. Doctors needed to feel important, what with how much they were needed by people clamoring for surgery faster and faster and the special additions being grasped at like water by a woman who had been crawling through the desert. He checked his chart and smiled under a mask he had applied before he walked out of his "special" hallway. Surgeries that were life saving, not unnecessary developments for disgusting people. Perhaps today would be a good day.

Aiden was not quite sure what he was seeing before his eyes, as he stepped forth from the greens and the brush, slowly out into the clearing, towards the strange creature that his senses had ensnared. His bow upon his back, but his gloved hand upon the hilt of his short blade, the deep-haired half-elf moved with the silence of a pure blood. Emerald eyes accessed the form of the blond being pondering near the water, and at first he was convinced that he had stumbled upon a glorifying female of great beauty. With hair of silken gold being taken away occasionally by the breeze, delicately pointed ears, and such beautiful and seemingly untouchable flesh, this creature made it to where Aiden was almost lost for not only words but for breath. Instead of crouching down while he proceeded forward, as though to hide from this male, this brother in blood perhaps, he became erect and confident in his actions. The slightly darker man rested his gaze in silence, and would await the youth to acknowledge his presence, as opposed to possibly frightening such a fragile creature.

Virgin, Feminine Elf Prince needs older Elf/Man to learn from. Aithin is a beautiful, feminine Elven Prince of the Wood, much reminiscent of a younger Legolas (from Lord of the Rings). He has golden, flowing hair down to his mid-back, a fair complexion, full red lips, and a soft, delicate figure. He is a glowing, innocent youth, completely devoid of all sexual knowledge. The young elf seems almost untouchable, like a young god. He appears to be around 16/17 in human years, while he is about 700 years old in elven years A great pair for him would be either an adult Elf or Man, a newcomer to Rivendell. Must be a dominant character, yet gentle and willing to teach Aithin the meaning of sexuality in a kind way. Aithin will react strangely at first, but he will crave more eventually, as he has never ever felt as wonderful as his partner will make him feel. Aithin strode down the grassy hill and sat down at the edge of the large, rocky pond, teasing his toes across the rippling, clear water. He wore a simple, small pair of thin cloth shorts to remain decent, but nothing else touched his willowy, feminine body besides the long, flowing waves of honey blonde hair that cascaded down his delicate back. The beautiful youth sighed through his cherry lips and pulled all of his hair forward, enjoying midday as the sun kissed his virgin flesh. His father, Elendil had been throwing many magnificent parties lately, full of music, dancing and merrymaking on the account of Aithin's brother's return from the far off city of Gondor, where he had had dangerous business to attend. After a light lunch of elvish bread, apples, and singing, the young elf had retired to the pondside for a quiet contimplation of all the newcomers. There were elves here that had travelled from Mirkwood and from Lothlorien, and even some men, all to rejoice something that Aithin did not fully understand yet. His father told him that he would know in time, but that he should not burden himself with such things until he had enjoyed all of his naive youth. There came a sudden rustle from within the trees behind Aithin, but he was so entranced by his own thoughts and daydreaming, that he did not hear. The eyes of a traveler took in the beautiful, whimsical creature before him, and stepped forward curiously...

He too had almost become just as lost within his own thoughts, though they were more curiosities than day dreams. Who was this male, and how come he had never seen him before? Aiden was a welcome sight among the woods and the creatures of the trees alike, and he had heard no whispered rumors of someone new or unusual wandering around through the brush. Therefore, that would have to mean that this being was not something foreign at all, but rather simply an oversight by him and his fellows. He remained in his place, allowing the sun that happened to slip past the tree tops to kiss his flesh as his ears filtered out the various sounds of the environment around him. The very spirits graced him with silent secrets even as his emerald gaze remained on the youth. The half-elven male indeed went from hostile to pleasant within a few moments, allowing his hands to rest at his sides as opposed to upon his weapon. Once the other male began to speak, he would shake his head with care, correcting him without saying a word at all. "I never have been one for immense gatherings," he began, especially considering that he was indeed what one would refer to as a half-breed. He was a servant of the forest, despite coming from a mixed heritage of both human and elven blood. Such an aspect seldom phased the elder. While the stranger seemed to blush beautifully, he felt a calming smile dance across his features, before he would give a short bow. "I am called Aiden."

Aithin, lost in thought, soon became aware of his daydreaming. His eyes refocused upon the glimmering sheets of water laid out before him, and he let out a relaxed sigh as he stretched his arms up towards the blue sky, then let them sink back down. He began to hum gently, brushing a small green bug from his shoulder, when his senses were caressed ever so slightly by a feeling that he was not alone. Yet, he had heard nothing. The young elf furrowed his brow and twisted his back to gaze behind himself, and was surprised to find a being of his own kind standing quite confidently in the clearing just before the woods grew close. The being had pointed ears much like his own, yet there was something different about him. He was not so very narrow like most elves were, thought not quite as thick as a man. 'Perhaps...no..he could not be a half breed like my mother..?' thought the blonde haired elf, his mind fumbling with different, seemingly urgent questions. This newcomer was rather striking as well, and Aithin found himself blushing uncontrollably. "H-Hello Sir." he spoke quietly, cocking his head slightly. "You are..probably here to see my father. He is..up with t-the party." Aithin pointed up towards the back entrance to Rivendell, smiling and trying to avoid scanning the stranger's every limb. Somehow, something was happening to the youth. He didn't know what, but it was strange, and he didn't welcome it.

As sapphire eyes continued to meet emerald, Aiden had a feeling that the two of them were succumbing to the same sort of inward curiosity about one another without actually ever admitting to a thing. Though he still looked quite youthful, he could actually be aged at around 210 years. He had surpassed the typical 'minimum life expectancy' of his half-elven breed, and still had a good, lengthy while before he would end up falling into the grip of old age. He had smooth, though chiseled and etched out features, and lengthy onyx-black hair that remained free behind his back. "Your acknowledgment is well met. The name typically means 'young fire'. I suppose, it must have been an inward observation, as opposed to outward, for I am as tranquil as the very breeze much of the time," Aiden admitted, before nodding to his statement. "I understand your learned approach to that sort of matter. Sometimes, it is nice for one to just strip themselves of society's trappings, including figurehead titles. Though, I admit, such beauty is very befitting of a youthful, exuberant prince." His gaze narrowed in curiosity when the other extended a graceful hand, as though beckoning him to come forward and accept his gently-presented invitation to take a swim. It was not his title that made him a bit apprehensive, but his own child-like actions that caught him slightly off guard. However, he decided to humor him, since he was indeed in need of a little restful recreation. Therefore, he moved himself slowly down into a crouching position, showing him he still meant no harm as he lowered the long bow and quiver from his back, trying not to let his eyes examine the un-gilded youth as he almost seemed to walk upon the blue-hued water.

Aithin nodded in response, not one for large gatherings himself. He noticed that the elf had slowly softened his approachful ways. Perhaps he felt that the youth were a subject of interest, and not of concern. Aithin's sparkling blue eyes remained upon the other's face, taking in every curve and shadow. He continued to blush when the stranger bowed and introduced himself as Aiden. 'Aiden...' the youth thought, rolling the name over in his head. "A pleasant name you have." Aithin smiled, getting to his feet and pushing a stray lock of silken gold behind his pointed ear. "I am Aithin, son of Elendil, and the youngest Prince of Rivendell. But please, do not take differently to me because of my name. I regard my status as nothing more than a written statement." His lithe body quivered ever so gently under the eyes of this newcomer. How strangely entrancing he was... "You look tired Aiden, you must have traveled a fair distance. Would you care to join me for an afternoon swim?' he offered kindly, automatically reaching a hand out to touch the other's, then pulling it back with a strange embaressment. The youth smiled nervously, backing up slowly until his feet starting to enter the water, beckoning the stranger to come nearer. He had never felt this nervous around another of his kind, why now? It was perfectly natural for elves to swim around in very little together; why did Aithin feel differently about this? It was almost like this so called "Aiden" seemed too majestic to exist..

"Whether prince or commoner, a man should always carry some sort of weapon with him. Unless, of course, there's more to you than your delicate appearance seems to imply." And by 'delicate' he meant too beautiful, perhaps, to even be true, but that was a fact he needed to begin to overlook. "Not all siren songs are deadly. I simply speak the truth, reputation aside." As Aithin continued to move himself into the water, he proceeded to remove more of his now cumbersome clothing. His lithe fingers worked easily at unfastening the clasp of the cloak about his neck and shoulders, allowing it to fall to the ground with a sort of silent grace, before he would begin to loosen up the deep, almost bark-hued leather armor that he wore above a dark, forest-colored shirt, which was taken off not long afterward. He revealed even more, slightly sun-kissed and smooth flesh, finally sitting down in order to rid himself of his boots. Once he had finished removing clothing, weapon, and armor alike, he had left himself in what appeared to only be a loose set of greenish slacks that covered him from his waist down to his strengthened legs. Slowly and calmly, he rose to his feet and strode forward, perhaps gracing the other with the sight of smoothed over, half-elven flesh. A slight smile would appear upon his features as he would walk into the cooling waters; his locks instantly fanning out around him as he went inward deeper and further still.

"Thank you.." Aithin spoke gently, smiling at the friendly compliment. He slowly began to wade into the sparkling, clear water, sucking in a breath as it's coolness climbed the length of his doe-like legs, past his silken undergarment, and teased just beneath his navel. "Your words are like a song M'Lord. It pleases me to hear them.." the youth sighed, going limp and letting himself fall backward gracefully into the pool. His body was refreshed immediately, and he soon resurfaced, smoothing his long hair back and eyeing the newcomer with curiosity yet again. Droplets of dew trickled to rest on his soft lips, some continuing down his slender neck and shoulders. He did very much resemble a young deer, slender and delicately strong in the limbs, with all the grace of the gentlest soul. "I see that you come equipped with a bow. I have always desired to carry one myself.." Aithin reached upward towards the lowest branch of a tree that cast a shadow and cool shade over the water, plucking a single flowering bud and stroking it's lavander petals.

He began to ponder whether or not he would be able to supply the youthful elf with a bow suitable to his liking if ever they were to meet again. Of course, if his father saw such a prize, and he was as strict as Aithin suggested? Well, he was not so willing to have his head on his elder's chopping block. Especially, when it came to light that it was not only from someone who had joined his son in a bout of swimming, but a man who only expressed half of his elven heritage. Of course, now that Aiden knew about this prince, this delicate flower, he had a feeling that keeping him protected from harm wouldn't be much of an issue. He knew many fellows, of course, and could personally keep him out of danger's path if he ever had to himself. Aiden, the silent guardian. He liked that idea. As the youth turned himself away within the water, Aiden couldn't help but feel a bit more estranged. Delicate, yes. Beautiful, very much so. Cat's grace and eagle's splendor? Undoubtedly. But a virgin? The elder male hadn't considered the option until a few moments ago. His gentle cheeks flushed with the color of soft, silken rose petals. Of course, Aiden did not think of himself as a token at all. It wasn't that he was hard up on himself or anything. He simply never had a reason to think on it. He was revered for his beauty because of his deep, jewel-like eyes, and his silken locks, but he was also looked down upon because his blood was considered to be stained or tainted. He would outlive a human, though pale in comparison to his pointy-eared counterparts. It was an interesting life to live, but one that came with many questions, most of which would go unanswered even throughout the duration of his lengthy livelihood. "Please, speak your mind to me. If I have done something to frighten or alarm you, I will surely correct my actions."

"Ah yes.." the youth sighed. "There has been bow training on my part, but I have yet to carry one...I have only ever faced danger twice, and ever since my father has become very strict on my whereabouts and knoweledge." As soon as Aiden's graceful fingers touched the clasp of his cloak, the young Prince turned aside and drew a lock of his hair forward, focusing hard on twisting it back and forth. He could see the elder elf undressing in the corner of his eye, and felt his heart flutter. Aithin exhaled long and deep, lifting a hand to press cool water over his warm face. "I feel so warm...m-my breath." Aithin spoke out loud, touching his throat and moving over slightly into more shaded waters. Arousal and even attraction was a thing most foreign to the elf, for his kind reached the age of that sort of knowledge much later than any other being, as they were such long lived creatures. It would be a few more years before his father would be forced to have a long and confusing conversation with him. Finally, he turned at the sound of Aiden entering the water. The elf's hair, so much darker than his own, and even more so when wet, was curious to the youth. It was indeed easy on the eyes. He could not help but gaze at the being's body; it was graceful like his own, yet not quite as delicate. He posessed the strength and whimsy of a young buck, masculine, yet beautiful like a young willow. "M-M'Lord..." the Prince stuttered, then realizing his loss for words and turning away again. 'I am a terrible host..' he scorned himself mentally. 'Why would I have nothing to say..?'

text here . And don't worry. I gathered that.]] As Aiden observed the youth with calm eyes, he couldn't help but notice one thing in particular. He seemed to be Aithin's unintentional undoing. Kindly and curiously, the prince had invited him to join him for a swim. However, he was new to the sights and feelings that Aiden had presented to him by simply plunging the two of them into a slightly inevitable situation. While Aithin attempted to stumble around for the right words to say, Aiden thought on his toes. His hands were soft; fingertips and palms un-calloused by arduous labor, or even heavy training. Pristine, indeed, there was no doubt about that. It was almost nice to feel such a touch against his own flesh. It was oddly calming, and he began to grow curious about how such a caress would feel upon his own body. When Aithin's grasp fell out of his own, and he attempted to regain some sort of confidence, Aiden found himself reaching forward despite the youth's explanation, retrieving his hands without a second thought. He held one of them carefully within his own, simply allowing him to feel his touch and his warmth, while he placed the other up against his chest, just above where his heart would beat. "Whatever you may be feeling, I doubt it is any sort of sickness, but observe for yourself that the two of us are one in the same. Therefore, whatever you might be experiencing right now, is as natural as what is all around us."

Not sure how to use italics here) 'Speak, you fool! Speak to him, make him feel welcome here, as your father has always taught you!' the elf cursed within his head. His mind was a flurry of strange and new feelings. He could tell that the half elf was pondering his appearance and reaction as well. 'I hope I don't seem uninviting..' "Oh..n-no M'Lord Aiden." the youth began at once. "You have done nothing wrong!" He turned and, thinking nothing of it, reached out and grasped the newcomer's hands, holding them gently in his own. "I assure you, there is nothing..." Aithin trailed off, looking up and sinking deeper and deeper into the emerald eyes that seem to swirl like beautiful twin mists. "...nothing to..correct." He drew a brave breath into his chest. "You are a guest here, I want you to feel welcome. It is a day for merrymaking and song. I..." The Prince's hands slipped away, and he turned his head to the side, feeling warmth creep once more into his face. 'He is so very beautiful...he...he makes me feel things in so many different places..my face..my mind...my hands...my..' The youth shook away the invading thought, feeling even more strange. "I'm very sorry Sir, but I feel strange. I know not of the feelings in which I experiance...I must be...ill." Aithin's eyes glanced at the older elf's hands, wispy and strong, then to his smooth stomach, then lower... 'NO! Why would I dare think of such things!' Yet again, the youth gulped and rid his mind of the creeping thought.

The sentiments were mutual when it came to the subtle sensuality of this entire moment. Once he had the prince's hands within his own, or even up against him, the worry of having his head taken away by an angry eleven king soon dimmed. Now, the inner flame that he seemed to possess seemed to come out more and more. He refused to have the youth frighten away from him, however, but at the same time he wished to help him with whatever he might just be feeling. It seemed like his gesture had spoken volumes, not only to him, but to the youthful prince. This was good, and he was glad he did it. He had taken his own first steps towards building a fragile tension between the two of them, and at this rate he wished to try and reinforce even his slightest efforts. He was not thinking of what this could lead to, if anything at all, but Aiden did know that this was a moment he would not soon forget. While Aithin grew closer to him, attracted like a moth to a flame, Aiden allowed him to lace their fingers together before he would wrap one of his strong arms around the other. Carefully and concisely, his remaining hand would travel down the start of Aithin's jawbone, and would not stop its slow decent until his fingertips reached his chin. He would press two of his digits to the underside of his chin, and raise his head up in order to let their gazes meet one another as he listened. "Now, what do you feel?" Aiden questioned, before making time slow once more, pressing a caring kiss to the male's tender lips.

Aiden's hands seemed to reach for his own in a motion slower than any he had seen. The world had seemingly begun to turn lazily, like he had all the time in the world to experiance those few seconds. The youth's heart skipped a beat as they came in contact. Despite the cool water, the fingers that took his own were warm, inviting like the cozy inside of his own home on a winter's evening. Aithin's breathing pace quickened ever so slightly, his crystaline eyes wide and unblinking. He could barely believe his own eyes and senses as the second warm hand took his and placed it comfortably over the elf's chest. The feel of his heart, beating, beating like that of any other living being was a comfort to the young Prince. Yes, he was beautiful and new, but he was just an elf, like Aithin. "I-I..." Aithin began, cherry lips trembling. Hushing himself, he drew forward ever so slightly, turning his head to rest his cheek just below the elder elf's collarbone. His own chest, dewy and cool, pressed lightly against Aiden's, allowing a new level of bonding to begin knitting itself a delicate bridge. "I..I hear you.." the youth whispered, listening to the gentle rythmic thumping. He closed his eyes and pressed even closer against the warmth, intertwining his fingers in the other's hand. He felt so wonderful, so plainly....good.

Aiden could somewhat imagine what was going through the young prince's head right now. They had already more than established the fact that he was untainted, and virgin in more ways than one, but now his senses must have been simply going through overload. There Aiden stood, perhaps flawlessly, bare-chested in the glistening water and warming sunlight. If Aithin was even the slightest bit attracted to the male, or even curious of what the other could have to offer him (in any way, really) then his body would react quite effortlessly to it. Though, Aiden had to quietly ponder. Had the youth had this problem with any other male before? Or was it him alone that seemed to effect this male of such godly perfection with his silken voice and defined looks alone? When their lips pressed together, and Aithin voiced his initial reaction to it, Aiden was almost certain that something about him had set the boy's senses simply alight with desire, or at least distinct arousal. The prince's lips alone were tantalizing to him as well, but he knew (better) how to hold his own when it came to situations such as these. If not, he'd have been lying with almost every single, ensnaring being that crossed his highly-traveled path. His suspicions were confirmed even further when Aithin turned away to hide his almost painfully obvious need. The pain in his stomach, the 'sickness' he thought he had. Aiden shook his head, walking up slowly behind the youth. If ever there was a stupid move he had made during the duration of his life? This would certainly be one of them. Titles aside, pretty much everything tossed out of his mind within moments, Aiden wrapped one of his arms back around the youth's waist before bringing them flush together again. Aithin's dewdrop-covered back felt cool and welcome against his heated, sun-bathed chest, but it was his next gesture that may cost him whatever they might have gained here. "Allow me, to aid you with your pain, and perhaps teach you of what you feel, young Aithin," Aiden assured the prince gentle within his ear, before his free hand reached around and pressed firmly onto where the boy was undoubtedly aching the most. He knew he would probably jump, or try to shy away, but he tried to convince him that all would be well, as gentle fingertips began to stroke Aithin's hidden length through the concealing cloth.

The feeling that was growing deep in Aithin's belly was new and...slightly painful. Was this what human's meant when they spoke of "butterflies in one's stomach"? He let out a small, unavoidable gasp as the half elf drew him closer and touched his fair face gently. He could feel the gentle ripple of muscle in Aiden's graceful, welcoming arm, and it aroused feelings inside of him that dwelled even lower than his stomach, which frightened him a little. The Prince's eyes widened even more, if that was possible, as Aiden's lips neared his own. 'What is he doing..?' The youth had only ever seen a mouth to mouth kiss a few times, but this was very different. A quiet, throaty sound escaped him as their mouths met. Emotion racked Aithin's body, making him shudder in heated passion of which was so foreign to him. He could feel this man, hear him, taste him; it was overwhelming. He tasted of grass, smoke, and tea, and it was wonderful.. The youth jumped and broke the delicious kiss, suddenly quite aware of a stiff and uncomfortable feeling beneath the water. He gasped upon looking down, shoving both hands hastily between his slender thighs and turning his back to Aiden shamefully. A deep pink crept up along the ridges of his cheekbones. "I-I'm sorry." he apologized, his body quivering as he attempted to hide certain proof of his excitement. "I know not of what is happening to me.." Nothing had ever affected him in this certain way, no. He turned back halfway, his eyes still averted away from the firy emeralds in embaressment. His nerves of the fingers that covered the front of his cloth undergarment twitched with nervousness, appling more pressure and causing a sharp groan to escape his virgin lips. The elf's mouth hung open, eyes wide. "What has happened...what must I do?" Aithin whimpered, concerned and amazed at his body's sudden reaction. "I ache like an old wound...in such strange places. Do I need healing?" the youth questioned the half elf desperately. As every moment passed, the Prince felt a growing, gnawing urge to apply more pressure to that certain area, but he didn't dare do so. What a strange act that would be!

The elder enjoyed the feeling of this Aithin, this lovely youth, pressed up against his form. It was as though they had known each other for so much longer than just a few (though significant) moments in time. This simple gesture alone made him feel such strength and empowerment, though not in the way one might typically think. He felt as though this male and him had shared a unique and unbreakable bond, as though he was Aithin's guardian and companion. It was not about mere arousal, but something far more than skin deep. He uttered calming, soothing words to the other, letting his warmth envelope him as their endeavor continued on. Aiden kissed the tip of the youth's beautifully crafted and pointed ear, caressing him effectively through the cloth keeping him covered, shifting their bodies closer together so the other would find release from the pain that he sought. As his fingers would travel along Aithin's aching form, Aiden's head would comfortingly nuzzle against the writhing youth. Such gentle pleas and cries, his purity practically dripping past his lips. It was all quite an enticing situation, though one Aiden would probably have to keep very much to himself. "Aithin," he whispered, kissing his ear yet again, even when the prince began to shift his hips forward, and he began to succumb to one of pain's greatest pleasures. He held onto him strongly, unwavering, not letting the youth fall due to weakness into the cooling water. He was so fragile, but there was not a thing in the world wrong with that right now. Like a father cradling his child, attempting to rid him of his falling tears, Aiden waited until Aithin's arousal began to show signs of fading away before he would turn the other around within his arms. "It's alright," he assured, shushing his gentle whimpers and pleasure-filled protests; Aithin's tantalizing moan still caressing his senses as he held him still within the water. He would pet those lovely blond locks, and kiss his forehead with care, allowing Aithin to feel his warmth, and the beating of his heart.

Aithin felt the arousal sear a path from his groin directly up to his navel as the half elf gripped him around the waist to pull him back against his own body. "You're warm M'lord- the youth began shakily, then jumping as he felt Aiden's fingers snake down beneath his own that were submersed in water. He gasped and automatically pulled forward, stunned by the action, but soon remained calmer as the handsome being held him still against his chest and hushed him gently, whispering kind words against his pointed ear. "A-Oh....I-I..." However, Aithin was at a loss for words. He tensed and let his head fall back into the crook of Aiden's shoulder as those long fingers continued their wonderful dance. 'I...cannot believe this...it is more spectacular than anything I have ever experianced..please forgive me, Ada..' The youth placed his own hand over the traveler's, making sure that it did not stray away from him and, quite unintentionally, began to move his hips back and forth beneath the talented ministrations in a very untalented, virginal way. All he new is that whatever this was he never wanted it to stop. "Mmm...M-My...L-Lord..." he whispered, his breath hitching with a small, sparratic buck of his hips. He let his neck go limp, nuzzling the bridge of his nose into the hollow just below Aiden's chiseled jaw bone. The youth was beginning to pant gently, silken hairs sticking to his forehead, his tender cherry lips parted and emitting sudden groans and whimpers. He had never felt so strange, embarassed, and wonderful in his life. "I..I don't...t-think I can go on M'Lord...something's happening!" the young Prince gasped, fighting through the overbearing pleasure. He felt something strange below the half elf's hand..a welling sensation..a building sensation... It was starting to feel way...too...good. 'Oh please...let this last forever...' But Aithin was young, and so was his body, and just as soon as it had begun, it had ended. The Prince nuzzled his face into the crook of Aiden's collarbone, letting out a loud, muffled cry of disbelief and wiggling frantically in his arms. His heels dug into the sand beneath them, his toes curled, his stomach clenched, and his knees grew weak and began to shake under his weight. He squeezed his eyes shut and released a high pitched moan, arching his slim back and squeezing his eyes shut. He was so frightened, and so glorified. It was as if he had seen the Elven Gods themselves... "Aiden!" he whimpered, eyes gazing up lazily into the heavens.

It had been a good while since Aiden had felt the same sort of sensual embrace that Aithin had just endured so perfectly. Here they were, in the middle of a deep wood, alone enough to where only the trees and the soothing water could keep their secrets safe from those who may wish to harm such a precious thing. His arms adjusted themselves around Aithin, strong hands becoming comfortable beneath the affectionate prince as he held him out of the water. Aiden closed his own eyes and basked silently in the moment. He allowed the breeze to gently cool off their warm, blanketed skin. He nuzzled his head up against the youth's, and became quiet in order to memorize the entire picture without interruption; the young blond in his arms, the sensations he had just felt, the feelings that Aiden himself yearned to feel again some day. It was all quite calming, and the half-elf doubted that either of them truly wanted it to end. Aithin's warming breaths against his neck brought him back to reality, especially when he began to speak again not long afterwards. The elder shook his head, laughing gently at the prince's question. "Indeed. After all, what just happened was a part of how you were created some time ago. Come, now. The sun is beginning to sink in the sky, and I've no doubt that you have to return home soon." He began to walk slowly through the water, still holding Aithin, bringing them both back to the shore with ease. Without saying so, Aiden knew that he too would probably have to go as well.

As the Prince's body began to relax, he felt an almost magical sleepiness take over his limbs. He was so...at peace now...so exhausted...so relaxed. The aching down below had seized, and he felt new and refreshed as ever. He let himself be turned around and embraced limply by Aiden, comforted by his arms. He wrapped his own arms around the traveler's neck, nuzzling his cheek into his collarbone once more and lifting his legs up to wrap them around Aiden's waist gently. The elf was as light as he looked. He listened closely to the beating heart that thumped beneath his ear, noticing that it too had quickened slightly. The youth panted calmly, his now warmer chest rising and falling against the other, and his breath hot and sensual against Aiden's neck. "T-Thank you... M'Lord...Aiden.." the Prince corrected himself, snuggling closer and enjoying basking in his post ecstacy. He wiggled his toes and was about to ask the man up to Rivendell, but instead was overcome with a question. "Aiden...something happened just now...something I could not control.." he whispered, red cheeked, as if someone might hear. "I'm afraid I might have..c-contaminated the pool. Is that..." stuttered Aithin, reffering back to the half elf's past words, "...n-natural..?"

Well, Aiden believed that was an appropriate way to explain the answer to his question. Sure, there were a million other ways he could have responded to the prince's musing, but Aiden was quite sure his reply would suffice until he was prepared to learn and understand further. He wasn't quite sure how the 'birds and the bees' talk went when you were of pure elven blood, but he could swear on his life that Aithin had never heard it in his life. Or perhaps even seen some of the finer examples among his own people. Less startled by the strangely preformed kiss and more by the fact that Aithin wished him to run off to meet his father, Aiden attempted to protest. Being among a prince and his elders was almost a mortifying thought to the half-elf, especially once they realized he was far from their kin. It was even worse that Aiden hadn't even had the chance to re-dress before he was being torn through the forest more effortlessly than what should have been possible. The elder urged Aithin's name; attempted to break him free of his stride, but he seemed deaf to even the strongest of voices. Before he would even have time to improvise and make a break for it, they were back into his town, within the vast courtyard where the youth's father stood only a short distance from the hesitant and moist Aiden. His head lowered, veiling the sides of his face in dark, lengthy black locks as he would show respect for the obviously venerable male before him. Whether Aiden appreciated it or not, he was now stuck in a position where he had to pay his dues and walk on pins and needles in fear for his own livelihood. Especially, with the lord's son so very nearby, poorly attempting to hide his infatuation with the stranger at his hand. "I am Aiden, fair Lord," he began. There was no fancy name or flashy title, for he served none but himself and the nature that surrounded him. "Indeed. The young prince is quite the tour guide of such beautiful surroundings. His generosity unerringly mirrors the manor of such a fine upbringing." Flattery, he hoped, would help to lessen that harsh gaze just a bit.

Oh....I see.." the youth replied quietly, pondering the answer he had been given, then deciding to give it up. Aithin relished the feeling of the sun caressing his back and those comforting arms wrapped around him as he was carried to shore. As soon as they reached the grassy water's edge, the Prince jumped down. "Leave your things things here, I will send a guard down to pick them up for you when we return!" Aithin spoke happily, hesitating a moment before leaning forward and kissing the man quickly and rather sloppily on the mouth. 'I hope I did that right...' He grabbed his hand, that oh so glorious hand, and began to run with him up the narrow road that lead to the back entrance of Rivendell. The Prince ran with all of the grace and endearing style of a long legged young doe, tripping slightly here and there while laughing musically at the whole situation. Aithin had a serious case of the giggles. "Come, come...my father will be delighted to see you!" The two finally came to a halt at the entrance to the furthest courtyard, where his father Elendil was speaking softly to a woodland guard, also blonde. "Ah, my son! I was just enlightening this guard on where he might find you, I needed you home now, for a very special guest has just arrived- and who might this be?" Lord Elendil spoke, his hair dark and straight. He bore a silver headdress and a pair of very severe eyes. "Another guest for our halls?" "Yes Ada. Elon, please go fetch his things from the poolside and bring them for safe keeping." The guard nodded and set off. Lord Elendil gazed harshly, yet not unfriendly like, into the eyes of the stranger. Yet, it did not once cross his mind how strange it was for them to be brand new friends, and quite damp in not much clothing. "I see my son has shown you the beauty of our refreshing waters?"

Aiden could agree with the words that this lord said, even though he had only known his son for a short period of time. He was gentle and beautiful, indeed, though the half-elf was not so certain about his bravery as of yet. The type of courage that Elendil spoke of could come in various forms. Of course, if bringing a complete and soaking wet stranger home to his father's kingdom wasn't worth some sort of merit, than Aiden wasn't quite sure what else would be. Aiden responded to Elendil's stern gaze by becoming erect in his place once more and returning it like the man that he was; strong, honest, and faithful unlike no other of his kind. The onyx-haired male did note that Elendil referred to those within his kingdom as 'my' people, and Aiden had no doubt that he meant the elves of his blood and clan. A half-blood would never be truly accepted amongst such walls, and Aiden knew this well. However, were Elendil to deny any creature of any creed lodging within his halls? Some would consider that an unwise, unfair, and possibly even unjust move by a king that was supposedly the direct opposite, and an elven one at that. He thanked the lord, though, despite whatever sort of hidden agenda that may have been behind his actions. Aiden would take the king at face value, since he did not truly know how long or short his stay in this new city would be for him, or whether the young prince's infatuation would ever wear off when it came to the elder half-elf. Following the son, which was still clinging comfortably to his arm, Aiden remained silent for now, inwardly curious and wondering what he was to make of this entirely unique predicament.

"Your words are kind...yes, I would expect nothing less from my son, he is a gentle creature..far more beautiful than any maiden found in the land of Men...and bravest of Princes." Lord Elendil sighed, looking upon his heir not with boastfullness, but an entranced paternal love. Aithin was indeed his pride and joy. "Well now, Aiden of roads long traveled," The Elven Lord spoke, his dark eys piercing the other's once more as he noticed his ranger like qualities. "Allow my son to refresh your clothing and show you to the halls of my people, where we will continue the celebration of the return of Prince Haldir, Aithin's eldest sibling. It will be fitting for you to stay as well, for we always have room, and it would be my pleasure to see you rested in Rivendell." The elf turned away with a short bow, hands clasped together at his middle, and glided away through the grass without waiting for a reply. When you stayed in Rivendell, you stayed the night, ate and drink till you were content; Elendil insisted this, and while he was being friendly, there was a silent hint of, "You WILL accept my invitation into my home. The dark haired elf had a very sensitive grasp on people's personalities, and he was not easily fooled. So far, he very much liked Aiden; he was warm, kind, and charming. "Come M'Lord Aiden, let me show you where we keep the spare tunics." The Prince smiled after waving goodbye to his father. "I think you will find them very, very comfortable." He hugged Aiden's bare arm and rested his chin upon his shoulder, his long lashed eyes wide with joy. Sounds of choral singing and flute music sounded quietly from the East Hall of Rivendell...

Aiden remained silent, allowing his eyes to do the talking for him as he marvled at the various sights around him. This place was beautiful, he would have to admit that. The very essence of nature seemed to be present within every place and sight they had passed. The spirits practically danced across the waters, and sung among the leaves of the unique and vibrant trees. Everything was so intricate, without being gaudy or unnecessarily overdone. The city was relatively open and free, allowing both people in passing and the environment to travel through the halls unhindered at practically any time one could imagine. The half-elf was surprised to see the young prince finding such fine clothing for him, but he did not refuse his gestures. He only breathed in baited, curious breaths when Aithin touched him with such careful hands, and attempted to keep his mind away from longing to feel more. His fingertips against his sun-kissed flesh made his gaze lower, and caused his lips to part gently. The soft sensations were welcome, but soon they would come to an end. "Quite nicely. Perhaps, perfectly," Aiden finally found to say before he was handed a pair of just as nicely made leggings. As the boy walked away and turned himself about, beginning to dress himself, the elder male turned off to the side and allowed his eyes to wander elsewhere before he would begin removing his moist clothing. He shifted out of the clothe easily, revealing strong, smoothed out legs, and of course the most delicate parts of his body that made up his lower half. He rubbed tiredly at his eyes while he eased the clean leggings on, and then sat himself down in order to begin lacing up his own boots once more.

"It's just past my brother's quarters.." Aiden spoke, tugging the guest past small trickling waterfalls, winding trees of brown and white bark, and elegantly carved statues of the mystical Elven figures. Grass, elegantly scattered leaves, and packed, soft dirt covered most of the way. Rivendell was aglow with golden, autumn like colors. Soon enough, they entered a small room with a few candle holders, chairs, and very large wardrobe carved intricately in a silvery brown wood. The room was of course, complete with glassless windows, some curtained, some not, like every other room or hall in Rivendell. The breeze and the leaves could flow freely in at any time. "Here." the boy began, opening the wardrobe by the coppery handles and searching for a moment "This one will probably do.." The Prince withdrew a long sleeved tunic and leggings made of a fine, thin cloth, along with Aiden's own pair of boots, which had been wiped down of all dust and dirt. He then drew close to Aiden and slipped the tunic onto his arms and over his slender, muscular shoulders, fingers brushing gently over his collarbone. The boy's eye lingered on his chest, almost as if he were in a trance. "It seems to...fit nicely." The youth pulled the shirt forward and hooked it closed all the way down to Aiden's stomach, his eyes then lingering on the slightly damp pants that he wore. For the first time in his life, he wondered what this being would look like without them. "Here!" Aithin said suddenly, smiling nervously and handing him the leggings. He then turned his back to Aiden and began to pull on his own tunic, swallowing the frog in his throat and combing his fingers through his long hair

Terribly conflicted, though attempting not to show it in the least, Aiden finished replacing his boots before running sturdy fingers through his lengthy (and finally drying) hair. Here he was, completely unsupervised, re-dressing with one of the most stunningly beautiful creatures he had ever seen in all his life. And a prince, besides! To rest amongst his elaborate halls was an honor enough, but to have him next to Aiden upon his awakening to a welcome morning sun? It would not only be a privilege to the elder half-elf, but it would be something that he could find himself treasuring forever. Aithin's stuttering was adoring to him. He was curious about him, and especially his body, but yet he was oh so shy and precious like a porcelain doll. Oh, how he longed to become the essence that flowed within his veins, that drove his very being, and inspired his articulate movements. Great comforts indeed, Aiden thought to himself, emerald becoming lost in a sea of pure sapphire again as Aithin greeted him with an added flare and formality. His touch warmed his skin like a soothing fire, his lips soft like satin, and the finest of golden threads upon his head reminding him of the rarest of silks. It seemed that the thoughts of a crowded celebration had disappeared from both their minds as Aithin came crashing down onto his lips like a glorious falling star; presenting him soon after with an opportunity to get a deeper taste of such a sweet, tantalizing prince. Hearing no footsteps, unaware that any were even nearby the location of the two, Aiden succumbed to this heavenly sinful corruption without restrain. His arms snaked around the youth's slender back, embracing close, while his deep hues disappeared beneath a veil of dark lashes. Parted lips would invite Aiden's tongue to slip out and gently caress Aithin's gentle month, before moving in deeper. A groan of contentment left the elder when he managed to brush the elf's tongue, indicating that he too was finding subtle enjoyment their moment of togetherness.

When the Prince had finally slipped into his tunic, free of both leggings and shoes (his father had accepted his light, nymph like style by now) he had to discipline his mind in a most unruly manner in order to keep his eyes away from Aiden's undressing form. However, at one point, he just managed to catch a glimpse of the unsheathing of the half elf's gloriously toned leg, and quickly turned his back on him completely. He waited for a moment, listening to the rustling of cloth and lace, then turned, finally, to meet his image. He was very pleased with what he saw. "Oh M'Lord...I-I must say, it does suit you very well indeed." the youth smiled, slender, bare legs trembling ever so slightly. He swallowed and stepped forward, placing both hands upon Aiden's shoulders in a kind of elvish handshake/greeting type advance. Aithin sucked in a breath, "Welcome to my homeland, Aiden of the Wood. I'm sure that you will find great comforts here.." His voice trailed off slowly as he spoke, and he found himself getting utterly lost, once again, in those piercing green eyes. No footsteps echoed around the outside of the storeroom as Aithin grew closer, eyes now fixed a little beneath those glowing orbs. "Let us..make our way to..the..the dining halls to..attend the c-celebration M'Lord.." The youth blinked lazily, seeming to fall forward slowly, like he were swimming through a dream, and came crashing down upon the half elf's lips with an unexpected force. He fisted both hands in the front of his newly adorned tunic with a gentle caress and drew his lips back a barely detectable length, then kissed the man again, this time with his mouth open rather wide. His tongue hung back in it's place timidly; he was afraid of pushing it.. All he knew is that he wanted his mouth on Aiden's.

Aithin was his polar opposite in many senses. His flesh was cool to his warm, his hair shining of pure sun rays, while Aiden's reflected the darkness of the night sky. Aiden was less seemingly innocent, while the young prince was pristine in more ways than he perhaps should have been at his ripe and ready for picking age. Like the forbidden, succulent fruit that rested untouched upon the blessed tree; Aithin was playing the part of a far too alluring tease. Aiden wished to be the first and only one to take a bite of such fragile flesh. However, such innocence was also beginning to drive Aiden's entire being mad. That exuberant voice sounded yet again within his ears as their kiss would break away as effortlessly as it was started. He had left Aithin breathless, and yet the youth still insisted on pulling away from him; leaving him out in the cold when it came to his own needs and feelings. For now, Aiden would remain patient and pleased by Aithin's presence alone, but this was not a game he wished to play forever. Much was on the line for the both of them, and Aiden was not a man to lose without a fight. The half-elf nodded his head in understanding, uttering 'yes, my prince' before following him less than eagerly from the room. He too was good at hiding the evidence of his feelings. Therefore, he put in a placid air, and trailed his untouchable virgin through the halls of his people.

The arms that swirled around the Prince's body to pull him closer were most welcome in his mind. All he could think about was how wonderful it felt to make contact with this man; his warmth, his beating heart. He was soft, yet strong. Smooth as silk was his skin, yet hard as wood were the toned muscles that lay, calm underneath. Something inside Aithin had urged him to do this; a soundless voice that mainly spoke from places often ignored. He found himself slowly sucking the life out of the man, kissing and tasting and whimpering into his hot, yet refreshing mouth. His hips were gradually pressing harder and harder into the one's before him, a feeling growing in stomach that was frighteningly like the one before. It was so, very good... "Mm..mn-Aiden!" the youth gasped through their lips, breaking the kiss and wiping the wetness from his mouth to his sleeve in a very boyish way. "We musn't...we must go to the hall, like my Ada wishes of us.." Aithin caught his breath and reached down quickly, adjusted his cloth tunic in a flash (to make sure no evidence was evident), blushed gently, and nodded for Aiden to follow him from the room. Apparently that "reaction" was going to start coming easier and easier...what a pain indeed.

Aiden was beginning to believe that Aithin was much like the main character of some estranged book, where a man was not only 'himself' but another on an entirely (and perhaps more interestingly) persona when a different sort of light was shed upon him. Such thoughts ebbed from the half-elf's mind when he was greeted by so many like-minded, beautifully designed creatures. Surely, they could not all think that he was a pure blooded being like them. His eyes reflected his more elegant elven heritage, but the color of his skin and the deepness of his hair gave away that he was also human. Yet, he was called friend. Together, they partook in drink sweeter than wine, that left the taste of sun-touched nectar upon Aiden's lips. As Aithin would sing so sweetly, with a truly blessed voice, his companion would become engrossed in a crowd full of interested onlookers, and perhaps more so. The women were flattering. Really they were, but Aiden always had a way of giving a female the subtle charms she wished in passing, without ever letting on that he didn't quite fall in that direction. Being within the arms of a flower did little to stir his senses. Not truly. Without warning, Aiden found himself practically jerked away from the crowd of more than curious elven-folk of the female persuasion; his presence brought back to Aithin with nothing more than a silent glance and a quiet nod. Such visions of living art seemed to pass quickly by his line of sight as the prince showed Aiden where he would be resting. His touches had begun to feel numb upon his body, his words resounding slowly within his mind. The half-elf appreciated the youth's kindness, but as soon as his worn eyes glimpsed the gentle bed resting within the dim room, he couldn't help but have a sit. However, this gesture turned into a half-lay soon after, and what might have started out as a sort of 'testing the bed' notion, ended in the strong Aiden drifting into a slightly uncomfortable sleep against the soft piece of furniture. Oh, how undisturbed he looked resting beneath a veil of onyx, still fully clothed, and so very tired from the day's events.

Aithin seemed to return to his normal, naive self once they had entered the Great Elven Halls. He introduced Aiden to everyone he knew, and didn't know, and they responded with glorious warmth and affection, patting his shoulders and taking his hands in their's. "Welcome friend...welcome." the Rivendell elves spoke, offering them both food and drink, and the gayest of entertainment ( After the party, when the lights were dimmed and the clouds overhead had disappeared, Aithin found his way back to his friend, who had been swept off by a small group of eager young maidens, and took his arm posessively. "Aithin, has he ever bonded before?" one of them whispered in his ear. He replied with a sharp, "No!", and tugged Aiden away in disbelief. "Bonding" was the ultimate level of relationships between elves, and something that often took place after marriage. Aithin knew of it simply as, "the way in which elflings appear on the earth". "Now M'Lord, now that we have escaped your.." the youth grumbled. "curious onlookers, shall we retire you to your bed?" He lead his friend from the halls and along a winding, leaf covered path, all the way up to a large cluster of small, open huts. Some were on the ground, and some were in the lighted trees. Aithin decided to put the newcomer in a branch dwelling one. "Here M'Lord..a perfect place to turn in from a long journey." the Prince smiled as they entered, "The bath houses are just down the trail to the left if you like, by the little statues." Aithin placed a gentle hand on Aiden's shoulder. "I hope you enjoyed tonight my friend. Tomorrow should be a peaceful and well rested day."

"The bed is very comfortable I assure you....and the....also the....if you need...always there...late sometimes...so it doesn't really...over there is the...so anyway..I'll be..west wing...." Aithin spoke, sentence after sentence after detail after explanation, until he noticed that Aiden had fallen asleep in the chair halfway through his speech. The man looked strong, graceful, and at peace when he slept, like that of an long maned onyx wolf. The position in which he slept in however, looked very uncomfortable and odd, and the young Prince waited a moment before taking his arms and helping him to the bed where he collapsed, drowsy and quite unaware of his surroundings. Aithin placed a soft pillow beneath his head and removed his boots quietly, noticing as a small smile crept up the edge of the traveler's sleeping mouth. It was calming to see a being in such an exhausted bliss. "Goodnight my friend." the young Prince whispered, and doubting that Aiden would remember this, leaned forward and kissed his forehead with all the gentleness one would use with a small child. He touched his face softly, tracing the outline of his cheekbone and admiring his unusual beauty, then left with a crisp silence and a flicker of silver. Aithin retired to his own chamber in the West Wing, stripping himself of all clothing and pulling a few silken sheets over his tired form. He turned to his side, eyes half lidded, and thought of his new friend. A smile kissed his pink lips, and he fell asleep with a satisfied exhale.

The city was never dark enough at this point. There was always a light source, whether it was the light-rail as it slid smoothly past or the numerous neon lights. The constant glow of red eyes through out the city kept the warning. "We Keep You Safe", they said silently. The robots never spoke, not to anyone. That was one of the reasons she now hated the city she was raised in. Mina could no longer recognize any of it. The school that she attended when she was young, the old market that she stopped at on her way home, the once battered but beautiful home she grew up in. All of them were gone thanks to the man who sat happily in the tower. Her friends had tried to convince her that what she wanted to do was foolish. They had heard rumors about what happened to the people who spoke out against their new leader. In her eyes, he was nothing more than a greedy child, playing his hand at god. Mina's mind continued to race as she made the slow descent down the stairs of her apartment complex, her pale hands pulling her jacket collar up to shield her from the cold that seemed to be penetrating her very bones. As her foot hit the bottom platform, her eyes scanned the street before her, searching for the distinguishable glare of the red eyes. A deep sigh of relief left her when she found none. The idea had first come to her in the form men in the bar she worked at. They spoke of how the city used to be, pining for it like a child to a lost puppy. It made her sick. These men had spent most of their lives in the mines, working for a living. Now, they had no choice but to sit by and watch as machines did the work. The young woman's stride seemed much longer and faster than normal. She wanted to get it over with. The gun in the pocket of her coat would do her no good against the massive metal that would no doubt be greeting her at the door. It would, however, do her plenty of good against the man at the top of the tower. By the time she reached the base of the tower, her hands would not stop shaking. Her eyes grew wide at the pure height, and her breath was heavy from the distance and speed at which she traveled. Mina had no time to stop for a breath of air. Moving swiftly past the security bots, she tried to look as normal as possible, trying to slip in as though she was supposed to be here. Her movement was quickly halted by a large pile of metal that suddenly stood in front of her. Her eyes grew wide as her feet were suddenly moved out from under her and she was grabbed brutally by a pair of shiny steel hands. "Let me go! I've done nothing. I'm simply here to look around!" The woman's voice rang out but was heard by nothing human. The feet marched heavily to the elevator, she was allowed to stand but not allowed to leave. As they reached the top floor, Mina's hand slipped into her jacket, securing her hand on the grip of the gun. The robot that grabbed her approached the door and pounded heavily. Upon getting no answer, the robot slowly opened the door. Pushed forward, she found herself in the wolf's den. Her pulled herself up right, her feet moving almost unconsciously to the space in front of the desk. As she viewed the man sleeping on his desk, she began to second guess her actions, until she thought about the reason she had come to this position. Her hand came out of her pocket quickly, the gun seeming to fire on it's own. What she didn't see or think of was the three robots still positioned around her. The last thing she remembered was a sharp blow to the back of her head and a stabbing pain in her lower back. A knife that she hadn't seen on one of the robots. One that had not been used in several years.

"Out! OUT! GODDAMNIT GET OUT!" The machines moved at the sound of their master's voice, unkindly ejecting the petitioners. Unkindly enough to break a bone or two, by the sounds of the caterwauling as the doors shut behind them. Albert Wily sat back in his desk and looked around. His office was plenty opulent, but he felt something of a fool for just now realizing that wealth and power came with a price. Who would have thought that 'Rule' and 'Administrate' were synonymous? Not this scientist. Not his brainless steel servants. Something was going to have to be done about that... Wily turned to his computer, booting up a succession of engineering programs. His anger with the series of factory workers and factory owners and humans rights activists and other rabble that polluted his days became the seed of an idea. Wouldn't it be fun to use THEM to shore up the materials shortage they complained of? After all, the human body was just a machine... Why not turn them into LITERAL machines, fit only to serve him, as they rightly should? Hours blew past. Nothing relating to the work of the city was done. The work of robotics advanced significantly in that time, however. The guards stood watch impassively, their single red optic gliding back and forth, back and forth. Wily was deaf to the world, once again utterly lost in his work. He called a neurologist at one point for clarification on nerve cells. When the man complained that it was 3 AM, Wily threatened to have him killed. When the call ended, his reverie broke momentarily. I used to be so GOOD with the peons. This stress is doing nothing good for me. Must find a solution soon. For the moment, alcohol was a sufficient solution. Wily pulled a brandy bottle out of a desk drawer, intending a short break. Five drinks later, he was very unconscious.

The hospital was colder than normal. Not that she would be able to tell the difference, she had never been in a hospital before. The only things she could tell when she came to was that those robots were still there. She had no idea where she was currently laying. All she knew was the fact that she didn't feel any pain. Perhaps she had died and heaven had robots too. Had he managed to reach the heavens with his evil? She wasn't sure anymore. Mina tried to sit up but found herself incapable. Looking down at her body, she found herself bound to the hospital bed by several straps. She could lift her head just enough to seehimjust outside the door speaking with what was obviously a doctor. Laying her head back down, she stilled her heart. She hadn't died. She was still stuck in this living hell that this man had created. No. He wasn't a man, she reminded herself, he was a monster. A charming, attractive monster that had the entire city in a choke hold that no one in the city was willing to break because of fear. Mina opened her mouth to speak, but the only thing that managed to leave her was a slight rasp. "Hello? Please, I don't want to be alone in here. Someone? Anyone?" Her words were barely loud enough for her to hear, she was almost entirely certain that no one outside of that door could hear her. Almost as though commanded, one of the nearby machines turned abruptly, marching its way out the glass doors and stood nearby Wily, as though to retrieve him. A sudden burst of fear spread through her body as she realized what the machine was doing. She didn't want that man any closer to her. She began to strain against the restraints that held her in place. She suddenly found her voice as she struggled. "Let me out of here!" her voice seemed to carry a lot further than before. She continued her struggle until she felt something in her back tear, a wave of pain seemed to hit her out of nowhere, stopping her movements in their tracks. She felt something vaguely wet and warm begin to pool under her and felt the heat begin to drain out of her body. One of the robots had stabbed her. She must have broken the stitches.

The gunshot was only just loud enough to wake Wily from his stupor. The crack of wood splintering by his head as the bullet went wide was the first sound he consciously recognized. A jumble of images flew at him - The Snipers standing in defense formation, shields forward, except for his prototype, which was holding a bloodied knife. The burnt hole in his desk. And in front of his desk, a crumpled figure. He ran around the desk, managing to minimize stumbling, and got a clearer look at the situation. As soon as he was fully cognizant, Wily was only able to laugh. Once again, God had provided. As always. Whether it be his innate brilliance, that delightful patsy Light, or now, a giftwrapped test subject for his new model, God always paved the way with gold for Albert Wily. "Lock down Abel General Hospital, and take her there. I want her stabilized and kept sedated until I arrive." He sat down again, barely noticing as the robots drug off their parcel. Wily was more annoyed with the burrhole in his desk. Maybe it should be left there, a reminder of failures before. No, best not to plant any ideas. He fired off a request to Maintenance, highlighting the bullet damage and bloodstains, before he turned back to his computer. He quickly cleaned up some details of the project and dropped it onto disk, packing up to go as quickly as he could. Sleep could wait. Work was more fun anyway!

The door opened slowly, silently gliding on well-oiled hinges. There was a faint snap as he flicked the lights on, even this small movement carrying a measure of theatrics. Wily felt good again, he felt in control, and he felt ready to handle anything. This was excellent! "Ah, stupid girl. First you injure yourself trying to injure me, and now you do it again, and why? Simply because you can? Be still." The bed raised on hydraulics, and turned ninety degrees to allow access to her back. A 'sewing machine' quickly resealed the wound and the bed settled back into it's customary position. Wily ran his fingers over a line of syringes sitting on a tray, clearly in her view. They were each different sizes, and filled with different quantities of fluid, indicating different drugs in each. And something else... Wily picked up the object. A wallet. Her wallet. He removed her ID with a flourish. "Mina Porter, 21, from Complex E. You, dear girl, are about to die!" He produced his pocket computer, and showed her the screen. It contained her government records. The cursor flashed patiently over a field marked 'Status:'. Wily pressed a button. The field filled in the word 'Deceased'. "Now, let's see! How did you die? Were you hit by a car? No, too pedestrian, haha, if you'll pardon the pun. Perhaps there was an accident at your work? Although, a materials outlet is a relatively non-hazardous job. Perhaps you're simply as inept at your real job as you are when you moonlight as an assassin? I suppose you could have been a victim of street crime. Raped repeatedly, throat slit... Tsk tsk, it's dangerous to walk the streets alone at night. We'll need more patrols. And a curfew!" Wily laughed outloud, and filled in the latter story. As he calmed, he grinned down at her, and spoke again. "But we need a body, don't we? Let's see, Mina. Who's going to die for your crusade? Family, friends? No matter, I'll figure that out later. I just want to be sure that you get the point. You see, you lashed out at me, and simply made me stronger. I no longer have to deal with the whining masses, for my own security. And now, anyone wandering the night can be incarcerated before they become troublesome. Do you understand, Ms. Porter? You chose the wrong side, and you lost badly. I would ask you to pick better next time, but the glory of it is, you won't have a choice!" With that, he snatched up one of the syringes and jabbed it into her arm, not bothering to find a vein. He depressed the plunger, causing a painful bubble in her flesh, full of adrenaline. As the epinephrine flooded her system, Wily proceeded to jab her again, and again, and again, each time adding a new ingredient to the chemical cocktail, with her serving as the glass it was mixed in. None of them were sedatives. None of them were painkillers. None of them were anesthetic.

Name: Seung Min Cho English name: Sylar Race: Korean/Japanese Age: 24 Height: 5'8" Personality: Egotistical, a bit cocky, bitchy from time to time, mellow, relaxed and reserved. Doesn't get angry easily, but once he is, watch out. The boy has a temper and a violent streak. Likes: Tattoos, art, architecture, traveling, fashion and his mother's cooking, rough sex. Dislikes: Public restrooms, the smell of bananas, mochi, drugs. Piercings: Naval, 11 in each ear, eyebrow, tongue, nose, left nipple, lip. Tattoos: For being a tattoo artist, Seung Min has very few tattoos. He has a line of stars running from his shoulder up his neck to the area just behind his ear, a large old compass on his side pointing east, a Buddhist scripture written in Korean on the back of his arm and a keyhole on his left ankle. I don't remember much before moving to America. I don't even remember the plane ride here. I didn't even know what Korea looked like until we returned there when I was 12 for my grandmother's funeral. Who I didn't know, by the way. But what I do remember was the first day the store opened, and I remember Augustus. He showed up about the second week I was here. I came home with my father during lunch and he was there with his mom, and my mom introduced us. I don't know how the two of those understood one another. My mother hardly knew a lick of English, and although Mrs. Alistaire thought she could speak korean, her speaking was like nails on a chalkboard, even to my small ears. I often made fun of her, I'll admit it. It was too funny not to. Is it possible to forget her son punching me? No. He spent a large portion of my childhood beating up on me... but that all changed once I got into school, and other kids started picking on me. Since then, he's been attached to me. I don't know why he felt like he needed to protect me when he chose to beat me up. My mother said it was like big brother syndrome, that no one else could touch me but him. But he's the one who calms me down when Aleksandra pushes me to the breaking point; he's the one that makes me laugh; he knows everything about me. I probably would have killed someone sooner if it hadn't been for him.

My name? It's Augustus Alistaire, I'm 24 year of age, I stand at around 6'1 and I'm around 170, mostly musical, and I'm a native of the great streets of Brooklyn New-york. I've lived in the same run down neighborhood since I was 4 years old. I gotten myself in to trouble, I'll admit, but in general I've kinda tried to keep my head down and get my shit taken care of. Miny? Oh man, we've been together since we were like... 4? 5? Pft, he moved in to the house across the and he couldn't speak a spit of English. Fuck, it was annoying. The first day I met him was like two weeks after he had moved in, he was the weirdest thing, he looked completely different then anyone I had ever met he sounded different and he couldn't speak to me. Well, needless to say, I wasn't all to fond of the fucker when I first met him. But my mom made me go across the street and say hello.. Well it didn't go so well in truth... I now know "Anyounghaseyo" isn't nearly as insulting as it sounds and punching the new kid in the face ends up getting you in a lot of trouble. I tried to avoid him as much as possible but my fucking mother was had been hell bent on teaching his mother English. So, low and behold, I found my ass planted in the living room arm chair staring at a kid I couldn't speak to 4 days out of the week. Well, as time went by Seung Min became more adapt to the streets of New york and he leaned enough English for me to tolerate him and we kinda became hip buddy ya know? We lived across the street from each other, we were always around each other, what was I suppose to do? Let the kid fend for himself? I think not. Boy did I get in to a lot of fights for that kid. The seat in the principle office has an imprint that matches my ass and most of the reasons were becasue people decided to fuck with him... Right now I work in a bar down town and I cover commission piercings down in Seung Min's parlor for side cash. I live in a decent sized apartment and I'm trying to keep my head above water each and every day. In truth most of my time is spent with Seung Min and the people we hang around, we don't do much other then bull shit and go to work, it's not thing extravagant but fuck... its a life right?

Seung Min simply wasn't sure what had started Augustus' obsession with tattoos. Growing up, the boy had watched animations, he'd been into designing and art, and it wasn't until their last year of high school that he'd decided what he wanted to do as a career. That's when he had bought his very first gun and ink, and stupidly without practice, Augustus had allowed him to ink him. What was supposed to be a simple chinese character had turned into something someone thought a 5 year old drew on his body. He'd fixed it soon enough though, covering it up with a different design while apologizing profusely for his mistake. He had always agreed to tattoo anything Agustus wanted and that was because Augustus was both his best friend, and he liked his work. At first, he'd hated the fact that it hurt Augustus. He had been slow and had to concentrate deeply, but these days he worked quicker, he knew how to handle the sensitive skin. Today was no different. When his friend had walked in, he'd got to work and carefully placed the tattoos, joking with him while he did it, but once it got down to actually using the needle, the jokes had stopped. The asian never spoke when he was tattooing, even to customers, unless he was pulled away to do so. The twitch made him look up at his friend and grin just a little, but he looked back down. "I told you it would hurt," he said softly, in accented english that he'd never been able to overcome. He had tried, and when he concentrated hard enough, he could speak perfectly well. With Augustus, he didn't have to concentrate. He didn't even have to speak in english sometimes especially when he was angry at him for whatever reason. Augustus could certainly understand swearing in insults thanks to the years he had to practice his listening. "Hey Chris," he said off handedly, not taking a second to look at his boss while he colored in the stars and bent his head in further to concentrate. Well, that is, usually he concentrated on what he was doing. But he couldn't help thinking about the fight he and Aleksandra had the night before. They had screamed and yelled, and she had even hit him. Seung Min, although he hadn't hit her, had grabbed her and pushed he against the wall, and things had escalated from there until she had locked herself in the bedroom and left him out of his own room to sleep on the couch. He paid for the apartment! She didn't even have a job, and with his suspicion that she was cheating (which he hadn't told Augustus about, otherwise he'd just have more bad things to say about her), he was faster to lose his temper these days. The fighting had gotten worse over small things that he wasn't aware of that would even start a fight. Asking about dinner, about her day, about a bill it always turned into a fight. He jumped a little as he heard Augustus' voice, his hand pulled back from his face and he glared up at him. "Ya! I'm not sloppy, and my name is Seung Min. Or Sylar! Aish, you're just a whiney cry baby. Get over it, 'cause no one is gonna be as cheap as I am for you and make it look at good." He went back to work, this time intentionally making it hurt before he eased up and continued. "I'm almost done," he said softly while he worked, crooking his head in even closer to his waistline to check that his lines were even on the other one, going back to the outline on his other hip bone. "Do you have work tonight? This is gonna rub really bad in jeans"

The faint buzz of the tattoo gun hummed in Augustus's ears as the familiar sting of needles driving in to his flesh set in to his defined hip bone. He let out a small sigh as the constant sting slowly subsided and eventually numbed allowing him to set comfortably in the parlor chair as his friend continued the portrait on his body that he had long time been working on. Their goal: Cover every last section of flesh, outside of his face and hands, with ink. They had managed to cover most of his entire upper half of his body with various displays of the others imagination; different splashes of color, inks intertwining- mixing to lavish decorations all construed with in the workings of the small Asians mind. They had now begun to carve a path down the side of his body, starting with a set of large paralleled stars on the top his pelvis, each one connected with the the word "Imprints" in large beautiful script. He let out another long winded sigh, his hip twitched a bit as the needled ran over a sensitive spot. His eyes flickered opened to look up to that soft featured face twisted slightly in concentration as he worked. He calmed again, watching the man scalped his body in to the depiction that he saw fit. Augustus pondered on that thought for a moment, asking himself why he had dedicated his body to another mans trade. He settled with a simple shake of the head, pushing the thought aside figuring it was a question to think upon on another day. With that his eyes flickered to the office door as it opened and Chris exited stopping to look down to the two, a smirk settled on his bawd freshwater. "You're in here again boy?" He spoke in a raspy tone and a boorish chuckle fallowed. "I'll be damned if I can go with out seeing you for a full week, has your other tattoo even begun to heal yet?" He smiled a bit giving a slightly awkward shrug do to his positioning in the chair. "I pay right?" He said with a sarcastic draw lingering in his voice. "Yeah kid, but what happened when you run of of skin to ink over eh? At this rate you'll be covered by the end of the year easy." Augustus frowned at the thought of not being able to be tattooed by Sylar any more, they thought in of itself set very sour on the red heads shoulders. He shrugged again, not being able to find a sufficient answer or rather not wanting to find one. He didn't like the idea of not being able to be worked on by Skylar any longer, they had been working on the canvas that was his body since the tiny Asian had gotten his license and they had been planning out the designs together since they were 17. That's far too many years dedicated to the project to even begin to think about it ending. But fact was fact and they had been chipping away at the canvas bit by bit, even more so this past few mouths. "We'll cut me open and he can tattoo on my intestines." He answered sarcastically. "Brutal." Chris answered before walking over to a empty chair near by where he flopped down, his leg hanging over the chair's arm. As the thought continued to roll around in his head the soothing sensation of the needles diving shallowly in to his skin became an annoying raw feeling that made him uneasy. "Ah fuck Minny, watch that shit." He said resisting the urge to jerk away. "You're getting sloppy." He said wit a bit of a smirk as his amber eyes directed up to his friend. "Do I have to find another artist to take your place?" He teased light heartily "If this shit scabs your out of a job." He smiled a bit as he relaxed in to the chair agian sudying the smaller man's face notting on the tention held in his neck shoulders and the way he was holding he jaw. "Hey Miny, you okay? You seem kind of out of it today, we can Finnish the tattoo another day if your not up to it."

"You should wear pajama pants to work," he said softly. Normally he would have grinned at his own suggestion, but he was too concentrated his work. Maybe it was a sign of him being a good artist, but Seung Min had never been good at concentrating on one thing. He could hardly translate between his parents and other people. Not because he was stupid, that wasn't it at all. He was quite clever, who else could fluently speak three languages and be stupid? He had street smarts, but he had never been a multi tasked simply because it wasn't how his brain worked, and it often made the things he made much better, much prettier. "You're gonna rub it raw and make it bleed if you don't" And as he said it, he leaned back and turned off the gun, wheeling himself away on his little stool as he took care of the needle and got the gauze and suran wrap to come back and take care of it. He gently took care of it, tilting his head just a little while he leaned over him, and then he was finished. The design wasn't difficult, so it wasn't hard and hand't taken much time. Tossing his hair out of his face, he got up and went to the sterilize station to sterilize his gun and his needle. "I'll stop by, but not for the brunette," he said, turning his head to look over his shoulder at his friend and put the things away. "Come on, man, you know I have Aleksandra. Don't be like that - she's going to nursing school and we're going to get a new place together. I told you this a hundred times, but it takes time." Seung Min was paying for her school. Or at least he thought so. He gave her the money she told him she needed for books and the tuition prices. And he wrote the checks. It was something he didn't tell Augustus, because if he had well, his friend would have blown a gasket. The asian was easy to take advantage of, simply because he was too trusting of others. Especially girls that were suppose to love him. She still technically lived at home, but six nights out of the week, she stayed with him, slept in his bed and ate his food he gave her everything she wanted and more, and still he was treating him this way. Maybe he just liked being punished, like hurting. Wasn't there a medical term for that? In any case, he sat down next to his friend and checked how he had bandaged up the tattoos, and then he sat back. "Why do you hate her so much? Seriously dude, you have to stop saying things like that. I'll go home and change and meet you at the bar, okay? I get off in like an hour, anyway. Besides, that girl talks to you and tells you that stuff 'cause she wants to go out with you, not an asian guy like me. White girls don't like asian guys, not in New York." Unless you're a cold hearted bitch using one.

Augustus smirked at the slightly frustrated way the man above him retorted. It was almost predictable in a way, he shot back a quick insult, corrected his own taunting and all in all avoided the question he had asked before he went back to work. Augustus narrowed his eyes a bit wondering what the male had been hiding but he didn't have much time to think about it before he felt a sharp throb radiating from his hip bone. Gritting his teeth a bit he shot a glare up to the Sylar and seethed in a low tone "Mother fucker." through his teeth. His eyes flickered darkly as he took in a short breath controlling his muscle as well as the slight burn of anger that grew in his stomach. "Lay off that." He said, the usual cheery demeanor melting away and promptly replaced with a more calloused side of him clearly understanding the fact that the act was done to display an annoyance rather then done accidentally. There were times where he would allow the smaller male to take out his frustrations upon his body using the tattoo gun as his tool. This was clearly not one of them, partucularly becasue he had no idea why the male seemed to be so tense. He kept a warning eye on his friend as the pain slowly eased up showing him that the action wasn't the slightest bit appreciated. As the question came his slight anger slowly died down. He closed his eyes again and relaxing his body back on to the chair. "Yeah, but I have a pair of slow riding jeans in the car." He explained. "They should come up right below the star, with any hope. I'll change before I leave." Another sigh blew past his lips as he thought. "You gonna stop by the bar tonight? Keep me company, there has been this sexy brunette that's been coming by lately. Says shes new to the city..." He mused as he spoke, knowing that the other would catch on to what he was insinuating soon enough. Augustus had been on a 8 months escapade replace the bitch that Sylar was currently with. He couldn't stand her, he really couldn't. Her general ora just pissed him off. He didn't like the way the girl talked to Sylar, she didn't like the way she always pointed out the flaws in everything he did, or the way she was always bitching about what Sylar couldn't provide for her even though everything the bitch had was giving to he by his friend, right down to the 600 dollar pumps on her feet. She used him all the time and Augustus couldn't stand her for it. "She's looking for someone to show her around. I'd do it myself but... well... she's not necessarily my type. But shes a cutie, aworkingcutie at that."

"Sure, she could have a part time job, but it's better if she focuses and gets it finished. It's good that she's going to school, it's more than both of us did. We're working out asses off now but she will too, and her education will be worth it. And she's young, she'd only nineteen. Just give her time, Augustus." He leaned over his drawing table, turning on the light to work on a design someone had asked him to work on for his appointment later this week, pulling out his pencil to begin another careful line, but he stopped drawing to look away and listen to their conversation. Okay, sure. She was incredibly hard to get along with. Most of the time she wasn't home when Augustus was over. In truth, she hated the fact that he had such a good friend that was given more than she was. She knew that if it was a choice between her and Augustus, the choice would be him. She had tried to make him chose before, and he told her she could get the fuck out and be sure to lock the door behind her. Seung Min liked her, he cared about her a lot, but he cared about Augustus, his best friend, a lot more. Hearing that she had been so angry that he was there, hearing that she had taken his key away without asking him made his blood boil. He stopped moving completely, forgetting that he needed to breath for a second before he turned his head away, shut off the light and grabbed his jacket. "She took your key?" Augustus was right it was time that she learned her place; she'd gone way too far this time.. "That's your fucking key," he said in Korean, too angry to think in Korean, while he reached for his phone and left the parlor. "You'll get your key back tonight." And with that, he was gone, getting into his small car parked on the curb in his spot and taking off without another word. He made his own hours, he rented his spot from Chris anyway, and with it being so late now, Chris probably wouldn't mind him leaving early. Pushing his key into the lock once he got home, he pushed the door open forcefully and shut it behind him. "Aleksandra!" he called out, dropping his bag and his jacket, quickly kicking his shoes off by the door and walking in. He heard her somewhere in the apartment, the t.v. was still on in the living room with he bags at the coffee table where she supposedly did her homework everyday. He never saw it. "Aleksandra!" he yelled again, going back into the bedroom to see her standing in the bathroom doing her hair. "You just got in the shower?" "Oh, hey baby," she said, turning with the curling iron in her hand to put it down and walk to the door connecting the bedroom and bathroom. "One of my classes were canceled so I came home and showered, I had a P.E. class today." Well, he wasn't about to argue with that. She could sense he was on edge anyway, being slightly out of breath, his words more accented than usual, his whole body hard. "Augustus' key you took it from him?" The stood there for a second, her mouth opening to speak before she closed it. Even if she picked her words carefully here, she knew he'd be pissed anyway. "I was in the shower and he just came in without any warning. What if he had let other people in or came in when I was getting dressed, Sylar?" "It's his his fucking key! He had key before you! This is my house, not your house. You live here, but it not your house!" He should have been more careful with his rods, thought them through more carefully, because it was always the first thing she attacked. When he got emotional, when he had to think fast, he spoke to fast to make sure his words were organized right or he used the right tense. Sure, he'd grown up most of his life in America, but his first language was Korean, and he spoke it more than he did english what with his parents being at home and Korean T.V. was watched more than American. "You always take his side! He could have done something while he was here!" "No! He is my best friend, and he is GAY, Aleksandra. You are stupid, fucking stupid, to sit there and say he would have done something." "So what, I'm STUPID now?! Is that what you're paying for, for me to be stupid?" "No, I'm paying for something else to go into your head other than fucking air!" She had gotten closer the more they talked, and they were hardly two feet apart now. She was glaring at him, practically livid with anger as much as he was. "You are such a fucking piece of shit boyfriend." At that, he snorted. "I pay for everything. You go if you want, no one else is going to pay for your school and your clothes and give you a roof over your head. You are like baby and you're nineteen. Grow up and get a job and start paying the bills, then you make decision about who gets key. But this is my house. Give me his key. Right now!" "No! If I'm here, he can't just have key!" "It's not your choice, give me the key! You can go either way!" And with that, she spit in his face, which made him grab her and push her up against the wall, lifting his hand to hit her. She flinched, turning her head away, but he didn't hit her. His sense had kicked in just before that. He pulled away and pushed her again, leaving the room to go to the living room and go through her bag. "You won't give me the key? I'll give him yours." "Maybe you should just fuck him then - it's the only thing you don't do you fag!" He threw the bag back at her, which made her cry out when it hit her, taking his house key off the ring and throwing them on the table. "Maybe you're right. Bet he'd do better than just lay and fake orgasms. Maybe you should go to one of those boys in your phone you flirt with. Get the fuck out!" "Trust me, I'm going!" He wasn't sure if she was leaving. Maybe she was getting her things, maybe not. He slammed the door behind him to the bathroom to get in the shower and put something on for the club - a pair of blue skinny jeans and a ripped shirt with a vest on top of it, gelling his hair a bit after he straightened it, and then he grabbed his leather jacket in order to leave. When he did, he saw her sitting on the couch, curled in the corner and watching him carefully, before he closed the door behind him and got into his car to grab a bite, and then go the bar. It was only seven thirty when he got there, but when he sat down, he was pissed off like always after he had a fight with her. "I got your key," he said to Augustus once he came to see what he wanted to have to drink, putting it on the bar in front of him and sliding it across with one finger.

Augustus shook his head at the comment about wearing Pajama pants to his job, almost cringing at the thought of what Sally would do if he had dared to even think about doing something like that. Sally was a rather strict individual when it came to the work place. You had to fit the scene that the bar appealed to to even be let behind the counter to work, which was New york underground Street fashion. Anything else equaled a lost day of work and a lecture on how you needed to take the job more seriously or it would lead to your dismissal and Augustus, in truth, couldn't afford either. Unlike his friend he made just enough money to get by every month. Sure, he was paid well but with the money he sent home to his mother, the tattoos, what he put away for security, and the rest of his living expenses it seemed like he was always just making it by. Risking a reduction of hours was a lot more painful then risking a raw tattoo. He laid still as the flesh was cleaned and bandaged up not bothering to check it trusting the others work he sat up, wincing a bit at the irritated feeling that radiated across the top layer of flesh stretched across his pelvis. He rolled his eyes as his friend began to defend the girl -again-, letting out a sigh he began to tap his foot irritably against the tile flooring, almost waiting for him to quit speaking. He let out a sigh "Just because shes going to school doesn't mean shes not a bitch my friend." He said in a jesting tone though the stone look to his expression showed quite clearly that he wasn't much kidding all at. "Yeah, it takes time for her to get her shit together and I understand that... but how much time is it going to take her to realizes shes not a fucking princess and live down here with the rest of us eh? She treats everyone like shit, you know she flipped out on me the other day for being in your house while no one was there?" "Really?" Chris chimed in fro behind the counter clearly taking side with Augustus. "Yeah! Because I fucking went in to the fridge and got something to eat." Augustus exclaimed twisting in the chair to look to Chris."She was like bla bla bla, you have no right to be in here. Bla bla bla. Then she went on to say how I was liable to fuck something up in the house and the she took my fucking key. Took MY fucking key." Augustus's words were riddled with an annoyed laughter though it didn't settled much of the rage towards the idea that was lingering in his stomach. "How's get get it?" "I took it off my ring and handed it to her..." He explained as he pushed himself off of the seat with a bit of a stretch "I figured if I was meant to have a key to his pad I'd get it back soon enough." His dark eyes directed over to Sylar slyly as he raised an eyebrow. "That was two weeks ago." He said a-matter-of-factly before he reached in to his pocket and pulled out his wallet walking over to the counter pulling out the due payment placing it on the counter as well as a generous tip -as he had always done- "But yeah, I could give a damn how she treats me shes not mine. But I don't like the fact that she treats you like a fucking ATM or anything else about her for that matter. But hey, what I do I know eh? I gotta change and get going, my shift starts early today."

What Aleksandra had said was quite true. In a lot of way, Seung Min looked gay, but part of that way due to his culture. Although he had grown up in America, was used to the way Americans were, he couldn't help but feel the constant influence from Korea. He'd traveled there with his family, had gone to visit his family on his own, and he had grown up watching Korean movies in a Korean household that ate Korean food. Not that he didn't like America he loved America. He loved the food and the kindness of the people that were so much different than his own. But he couldn't help but relate to his roots more than what he'd been raised in. And so the boy looked gay, metrosexual, whatever you wanted to call it. It was probably one of the reasons he and Augustus got along, really.. they were rather alike in a lot of ways. His hair was always washed, he sometimes wore makeup out, his hair was meticulously sculpted, his clothes were carefully picked and he looked damn good. "Hey fag," he said jokingly with a grin on his face. He hated it when Augustus treated him like that, or called him anything effeminate. Perhaps it was because of his insecurities, really insecurities that he didn't like to think about but Aleksandra brought up in fights, about fucking his best friend or his sexuality. That was, however, a conversation for another time probably, when the topic was brought up. Otherwise, he didn't want to think about it. He looked at the girl walking past him, turning his body to slide between her and other people. She smiled, and he smiled back politely, but he was at the bar in a second to sit there and gently knock on the counter. he wasn't happy his whole body language screamed it even more so than it had in the parlor. His neck was tense, his jaw tightly clenched, and finally he let out a sigh and leaned forward on his elbows towards Augustus, though he kept his eyes down casted on the bar in front of him. "Just shut up and take it," he grumbled softly, pushing back away from the bar. "It's your key. You think I would just give it to you and let her take it after telling me? No way. I can't believe you would think like that. You were around before her. What is that saying? 'Bros before hoes' or something." He grinned a little and looked towards the people at the other end of the bar, coming in for their after dinner drinks or drinks before the real parties began, and then at the bar again. He didn't want to answer his question. He did know, though, that if he didn't answer the question laid out in front of him, Augustus would get angry. Finally, he signed again and pointed towards one of the glasses. "Can I get a vodka tonic?" Right now, it would have been nice to have a drink and calm down a little. It's what he needed after a day like today. "How are your new designs doing? Rubbing at all?" Okay, so he was avoiding it. But let him get there. As there was silence between them, Seung Min took a few peanuts to put his attention on other things, and then his mouth opened to speak. "She told me I either give you back the key and she leaves, or you don't have a key. I took the key and gave it to you. I guess you were right all along, you know. I should have left her back when all the shit started and the mood fucking swings. I paid for everything and what did she do? Nothing at all. She just take money and asks for more money. I don't know why I took it for so long. And if she is gone when i go back, goodbye. Really. I'll be glad." He let out an exhausted sigh and put his hands on either side of his neck, hiding the stars before leaning back again and taking them away to look up at him. "I'm sorry. For the way I've been for the last almost... year. I wasn't a good friend to you."

Augustus' brows raised at the sound of Sylar's voice and he turned to look at the brooding Asian noting how thoroughly aggravated the smaller male had seemed by the fact that the key had been taken from him. He didn't quite have time to translate exactly what he had said but he could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn't all to happy. at the second comment he went to speak again "No, man, I don't really ca..." But before he could finish the man was heading towards the door "Sylar. Seung Min." Again he went ignored "Minnie don't trip on it man, I was just talking is all." The door closed and he knew there was no stopping the agreement that was undeniably brewing. "Fuuuuck." He said looking over to Chis who simply shrugged and turned to continue on with his own business. Augustus let out a sigh and shook his head looking to the door again "I'm so sick of that bitch." He stated again, not quite caring if Chris cared or not. "He's completely changed since he got with her." "Aw, don't do that, Si isn't treating you any different then what he always has... from what I can see that is." "No, not like that. He just seems so pissed off all the time now, so stressed about bills and trivial things that he has never even thought about before. Always checking the time and shit, it's like he's under constant fucking pressure to be something completely different then what he is. It just sucks to see you know?" "Yeah. I get it. But what are you gonna do eh? Doesn't seem like he's gonna get rid of her any time soon. I'd say just keep your head down and stay out of it." "How can I stay out of it? He's fucking miserable and he's too thick headed to admit it." "Yeah, but again... what are you gonna do?" The smooth sound of a simple trance track looped in Agustus' ear's as he walked up and down the bar lazily tending to each order placed. It was still early so the bar was relatively empty outside of a few regulars who had begun to mingle amongst themselves. August bobbed his head loosely to the bass-line his red hair swooshing to his movements as he walked around. He was dressed in a rather simple yet oddly flamboyant out fit which consisted of a pair of black skinny jeans that cut off extremely low on his hips and a black button up shirt that flared at the button due to the last button being intentionally left open showing off the sculpted structure of his lower abdomen. It was out fits like these that showed just how scroungy the man was, despite how tall and strong he was. "Hey Auggie. How are you doing tonight?" He heard a voice call from the other side of the bar. He smiled as he brushed his hair from his face. "Start us off with a few temples dalin." "I'm fabulous as always." He said in a higher tone then he usually spoke but a slight twang to his voice. "And how bout yourself? Here to catch yourself a man again." He laughed as he went to work preparing the drinks. "God knows I am." There was a distinct difference between Augustus and Auggie. One was who he was and one was a work persona for the sake of tips and customer service. Augustus was someone you just didn't really want to fuck with, he was a goof ball sure, but there was something about him that said "Don't Fuck With Me." While Auggie was a tease to the mass amounts of people that came in to the bar, both male and female. He had a rather homosexual appeal to him, the way he swung his hips and held his postures and his choice in words that gave gays that came in to the bar the green light to flirt with him. While at the same time there was a strength and boldness to him that made the females there tilt their heads and ask weather or not he was really gay or if he was just kinda... metro. Either way it worked to his advantage and he surly used that in order to rake in more tips. Call it fake if you want to, Augustine didn't care... it worked. The woman laughed "You know it, always on the look out right?" "You know it." He retorted handing the women their drinks "There you go honey. Enjoy." His eyes turned to the door as it opened he made a face as Sylar walked through looking as pissed off as ever. He sighed a bit as he watched the man approach him. "Hey Dolly." he said as he walked over to him leaning forward on the bar. "How are things?" As the kay was given to him he let out a sigh. "Thank you. it wasn't that big of a deal, I had figured you had already known about it which is why I said anything at all. I wasn't all to pissed off about it just kinda bothered. If she doesn't want me to have a key then I wont.. I can't guarantee to will keep me out of the house but I can promise not to go through the front door again if that would make you feel any better." He said jokingly as he looked over his friend seeing that the tension in his body had doubled since the last time he had seen him not and hour again. "You okay kid?

That was the weird thing about Augustus, wasn't it? Augustus could call him Minnie, he could call him shortie or gook, but the second Seung Min tried to joke around and call him a name, it was he who was in the wrong. He saw the frown on his friends face, and considering the bar mood he was already in, it just pissed him off more. He couldn't really help the fact that he had a temper. Having a bad day didn't make things any easier, nor did the fight he had already. Never had he really used those words in a demeaning way... he couldn't even really remember the last time they had gotten into a fight, simply because the understood each other so well after all these years. So while his eyes watched Augustus move back to show him the tattoos, he looked without saying a word, then turned his head away to drink what was in his glass a little. He was brooding. Or pouting, one or the other. He'd come all the way here, only to be treated coldly by Augustus while he flirted with girls on the other side of the bar. It was his job. He knew it was his job, after all, but that didn't mean he liked it at all. Everyone in town called him Auggie, acted a if they were better friends with him than he was, but who had been there at every break up? Who had been there at every single birthday party and every other important thing Augustus had? Yep, one person: Seung Min. But he always seemed to be so easily irritated by him, calling him names and purposefully annoying him. That was all fine and good now that he had kicked his girlfriend out for his friend, who was simply ignoring him now. He was so... nice to everyone but him. Why? Why couldn't Augustus just act to friendly around him, too? That's what he really wanted, you see. He really just wanted to be with Augustus and be happy, like he used to be. "I don't want to deal with girls for a while. We all thought Aleksandra was awesome in the beginning, and now look at her. Even you hate her. At least if I'm single, I'll be able to save some money rather than working my ass off in overtime to pay for everything - the apartment, the bills, the groceries, her tuition, books, whatever the fuck she wanted. For now, being single and horny is fine." He stood up from the bar stool and put a few bills down from his wallet onto the counter. Augustus had said things were on the house, but he would have rather paid so Augustus didn't have to. Plus, he felt like his friend was more pissed off at him rather than happy to see him with his attitude. "I'm going to get out of here," he said, drinking the last of his drink and setting it back down and rubbing his face to recollect himself. He was agitated, that was obvious, maybe rather upset, but he didn't say anything. "I just wanted to bring it by." He pointed to the key and then gathered his jacket to put it back on and go. He didn't want to go home... but he didn't really have any other friends beside Augusutus. Ever since he was young, he was content with everything as long as he had his best friend beside him, and that was still how things were. "See you around," he said with a shrug, but he stopped for a second to turn back around and point at his hips. "Be sure to put ointment on those; don't sleep with pants on or you'll... agitate the skin." And with that, he was walking through the bar again, sliding past people in order to just drive somewhere, anywhere but here.

Augustus frowned a bit as the slanderous term used as a greeting and he eyed the raven haired male sitting on the other side of the counter from him. Hadn't the male already been in such a fowl mood he probably would have corrected the statement. He didn't like the term "fag" not even when being used in a joking manner. In his eyes he wasn't a "Fag" or a "Queer" Or anything like that he just so happened to like men. He understood that in Korea it was looked down on and he understood that Sylar wasn't really looking down on him for being gay but that didn't make it any less irritating. He smirked none the less not wanting to pollute already rough waters. He sighed a bit shaking his head as the male continued to speak no inertly liking his aggressive tone. "What was I suppose to think? She took the key and I didn't get it back... well till now. I figured you knew but you didnt want to argue about it so you kinda just let it go. i mean, I wouldn't blame you if you had. Which is why I didn't push the subject." He explained as he went to cleaning glasses, waiting for his question to be answered though he could easily tell that it was being avoided. He nodded as the order was placed and he skillfully went to preparing the drink. "It's doing alright." He said as he stepped back from the counter. "See, these things dont touch the tattoo at all." He said as he cocked his hip showing just how low the pants rode on his hips. He mixed the tonic water and vodka together with a shake of his wrist before poring in to the glass and sliding it across the bar to his friend. "On me dalin." He said in a low tone before he turned his attention to a group of females on the other side of the bar waving him down. "Hold on." He said walking to the group. "Hey Auggie, can we one Alien Urine, After glow and an Berry blister." A brunette asked as she swayed to the beat of the song. "Sure thing, how are you ladies tonight. Out a little early wouldn't you say?" He said as he began to rim a few glasses with lime and sugar. "Yeah, we are showing a new friend around she should be coming pretty soon. You know shes single." "Sexy little brunet? Eyebrow periling, about 5'6, cute Californian accent?" "Yeah, is she here already?" "No, she was in here the other night though." He said casually as he poured the first dink sliding it across the bar. There was a pause in conversation as the woman eyed him a questioning grin slathered on her face. Augustus narrowed his eyes a bit "Oh no, no no no." He stared with a laugh. "You're barking up the wrooong tree dalin I don't even swing that way." The woman gasped in an exasperated manner her eyes bulging a bit "Don't tell me that Auggie, don't break my heart." Augustus laughed with a shrug as he finished off the last drink. "Fraid so, I'm as gay as gay could be, never even been with a female." He said a-matter-of-factly smiling off to the side. "But, I'll keep a look out for a match kay? We'll find her someone right quick in a hurry." With this he collected the money and with a wink walked back over to his friend. He leaned forward on the bar his seriousness returning as he did so. He looked over his friend as the silence lingered still. He blinked a few times as Sylar began speaking again. He listened nodded slightly as he spoke. He couldn't help but feel slightly agitated by the ultimatum but he more so felt bad for Sylar, why did he let this woman treat him so badly. "Woah, so you actually told her to leave? " He said with a smile, tiling his chin down slightly as he spoke. It wasn't that he was happy to see that Sylar's in a bad relationship so much as he was glad to see it was ending. He knew that the two of them had been at each others throats for a few months now but this was the first time he had... well told her to leave. "Normally I'd say go for the girl because I've always been for you having a girl even if she dosen't like me personally. Because at the end of the day I know I'll always be around even if I can't be around. But she doesnt make you happy why be around that?" He asked in a frustrated tone. "It's not even a matter of you treating me any differently because you haven't. But more so the way you've been treating yourself. I've never been one to sit back and let someone treat you like shit and you shouldn't either... I hope, you mean it. But well... I've heard it before." He said with a shrug. Ill believe it when I see it and when I see it well find you some other gorgeous beauty to replace that bitch okay? He smiled boldly looking in to the familiar eyes of his friend. See, the best thing about having me as your gay bar tending friend is that I make and brilliant wing man. He said giving another laugh.

Yeah, Seung Min was not a happy boy; and yeah, he was ignoring Augustus. His lithe little body slid in between the dancers and drinkers at the bar, hoping that Augustus' job would drag him back to the bar rather than allow him to follow... and with how busy it was getting, that should have been the case. But he was still there, calling out to him while he waved him off and continued out the door to the alley, where he ran his hands back through his hair with frustration. "Fuck off!" He yelled at him as he grabbed his wrist, trying to pull it away while his friend dragged him in closer with his arm around him. It wasn't like he needed to leave, Augustus would never tell him to do such a thing, but he just didn't want to be here anymore. He didn't want to see his best friend flirting with everyone and trying to hook him up with just anyone. That wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want him to look at him like all he was in for was some cute girl, because less that a year ago, Aleksandra had been the same. He didn't want just anyone, he wanted a specific person that he had already denied himelf for a long time for a lot of reasons. "I'm not throwing a fucking tantrum, you prick! I'm trying to go... to go somewhere else! All right? I wasn't going to go home, because I didn't want to see her. Is that fucking okay with you Augustus? Because you can never let me just do what I want, it always has to be okay with you, and it's bullshit!" He pushed him then, looking at the money that was thrown back at him, and he grabbed it before it could go anywhere else. It only made everything worse. Right now, he could care less what Augustus thought of him, could care less if he disappeared in his life... it was just how self distructive he was feeling. "You know what Augustus? I don't fucking need you! I don't need you or your help picking up the fucking pieces, so just go fuck yourself!" He wanted to punch something, to lash out at anything, because it just felt like everything was crumbling around him. He had tried to make things better between him and the one person that mattered, but now everything just seemed to be falling apart. What had he done wrong? As if to prove his point, he pulled out his own key ring and pulled off the key to hi sfriend's home quickly, throwing it on the ground and just standing there to glae at him. He didn't move a muscle, didn't even dare twitch. If Augustus wanted to hit him, then fine. But he had already said he didn't want to be the one to help him anymore. So fine. "You wanna know the one fuck up thing? I stayed in America all those years ago because of you, 'cause I didn't want to leave you here. Because you were my best friend. But I should have gone. Fuck this, and fuck you, Augustus! Just fuck you!"

Augustus looked up as the bills were laid on the table a slight frown setacross his feathers but before he could respond the male was off. He let out a sigh before he set down the glass he had in his had and walked around the bar starting after his small friend. "You shouldn't leave. If you leave now you'll end up right back at home arguing with that bitch again." He said as he began walking behind Sylar, his hands tucked in his pockets holding the bills there as he fallowed. "Si." He said as he realized he was being ignored. He cut through the crowed fallowing close behind his friend until he found himself walking out side. He gave a glance back to the bar and he made a face knowing that he had left the bar unattended and would probobly get flack for it as soon as Akabane noticed. He gave an annoyed look over to the bar and then with a groan he started after his friend figuring the risk to be better then ignoring his friend. Besides, he was already pissed off he was bound to get in trouble already. Picking up his strides a bit he grabbed Sylar by the wrist pulling hims around to look at him. "What the fuck is your problem? You don't have to leave, you just got here." He let Skylar's wrist go and glared at the smaller male in front of him. "I know you're pissed off right now but coming to my work and throwing one of your fucking fits isn't going to fly here. I haven't done anything to you. It's not my fault you can't keep your bitch in line Sylar so don't come around just to piss me off alright." He forced the bills against the males chest and glared at him. "You don't turn down free drinks ass hole, it's rude. Now, you can get your ass back in the bar and have a good time or you can let the bitch control you -again- and leave but if you do you can know that I'm not there to help piece shit back together when it falls apart."

He had turned to go finally, and he kept walking even as Augustus spoke. He turned back around sharply though, his eyes livid as he walked back towards him. "Oh yeah, Augustus, because that sounds so like me! Yeah, I picked the bitch over you, because in every fight, I always took her side. Are you fucking stupid? I took your side, always! When she yelled at you when I was home about food, I told her to shut up because I paid for it, when she complained about you making the house dirty, I defended you and said the shit wasn't yours! I've always defended you against her, and now fucking what? Oh, that's right, I picked her, and I came to end things for her. That sounds so like me!" His voice had raised in pitch a bit, and it was that moment when his voice had gone higher than usual that he realized he was crying. The dam had finally burst and the tears were falling, and he let out an angry sound as he turned back around to go, stopping for just a second when the next words cut through him like a knife. Maybe he'd been expecting Augustus to say no, to stop it and try to calm him down like he usually did, but here he was, agreeing with him. He stopped moving, stopped talking and just... watched him, and his face paled a little as he felt his heart jump up into his throat and twist. "I'm glad that it was always me who gave a damn and needed you then, because you're right. You don't need me." He was still crying, a little harder this time, and the features on his face had changed from angry and hard to sheer pain as it coarse through him, and then he was gone. He didn't walk, he flat out dashed to get away. He couldn't breath, and his legs shook so much he was sure they'd give out. And they did, eventually, when he got right next to his car in the parking garage, where he scrambled to unlock the door. And once inside, he let it out: he screamed, he kicked, he punched, and once he was completely exhausted, he leaned forward against the wheel and sobbed. Seung Min didn't usually cry. He was an emotional fellow, but more than not he just got angry. He didn't really get to the point where he had to cry. So while he sat there and cried, he felt so emotionally drained that he could hardly grasp the fact that he was in a place where people could see him, and that he shouldn't be driving. Eventually, when he got too tired and the sobs stopped, he sat back and stared out the window in front of him, and then reached to turn on the engine. It was almost a mechanical movement, seeing as he did it without much thought, and he slowly backed up and drove. Driving was one thing that calmed Seung Min. The other was smoking pot. He'd given up the latter a few years back when he decided he shouldn't get himself into trouble. So now, he just drove. He wasn't aware of his speed or which direction he was going until he realized he was driving further north than necessary... and he'd been driving for longer than he had thought. He turned around then, and returned to home, where he parked the car in the garage and got out slowly. At least if Aleksandra was still around, she'd be sleeping. Using his body to open the door quietly, he slid into the apartment and shut it behind him, making sure that he had locked the door behind him and he went to the kitchen for a glass of water. Nothing really felt out of the ordinary... and because of that he couldn't tell if Aleksandra was really around. He leaned against the counter and drank, then looked over his shoulder to the TV that she had left on. Shutting it off with the remote on the counter, he set his glass of water down next to a pack of smokes. It wasn't his brand. Aleksandra didn't smoke. And Augustus stayed far away from the brand because it 'tasted like charcoal was burning' in his lungs. Picking up the cigarettes, he looked them over and opened them to see several missing, and it was funny because the house didn't smell like smoke. So it hadn't been Aleksandra. Who was smoking? His head turned as he heard the sound of the washing machine flick to a new cycle, and he went to look inside. Sheets. It wasn't that abnormal, they both liked sleeping on clean sheets, but hadn't they just but new sheets on the bed a few nights ago? He could have sworn... yeah, he was positive they had. He turned his head to look towards the bedroom and walked towards it slowly, opening the door to see her walk towards the bed with a towel around her, leaning down to pick an article of her clothes from the ground. "What are you doing here still?" He looked at him and jumped suddenly, fixing the towel around her. "I can't leave until the morning. There's aren't any buses going, so I have to call to get someone to pick me up in the morning." "Why are you washing the sheets?" She went stiff for a second before shrugging her shoulders, trying to pass it off as just being annoyed by his questions. "Just did it to give myself something to do. Can't you just leave me alone?" "No, I told you to get out. Who did you have over here already and why couldn't they have come and got you? You had time tonight. So leave." "No one was over. I don't know what you're talking about." "Don't lie, I saw the cigarettes on the counter." Instead of answering, she just scoffed and went to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. But without a lock, she was screwed. He entered behind her as she shut the door to the shower and stood under the spray. He shoved it against the glass and stared hard at her. "Who do these belong to?" "Shut up, don't start shit. I'm out of here in the morning - those are probably Augustus'. Leave me alone, Sylar." "Liar! Just fucking tell the truth, who the fuck was here!" "They're Augustus', okay?! He was here and left them!" "Bullshit, fucking bullshit, it's not his brand!" He left the bathroom for just a second and came back with her phone, which made her open to door to grab at it. He turned his back while he looked for the last call, which was to... a man. She grabbed his hair and he threw the phone down, grabbing her arm to wrench it away. "Give that back, Sylar! Keep your fucking hands off of me!" "Who the fuck is Ri...Richard? Why did he call you three times?" "Give it to me! Sylar!" She was screaming at him and pushing, hitting him while he picked it up to look at the screen again. But he didn't let go, he simply grabbed her hand with his free one and looked into her text messages, trying to read them as she squirmed, and that's when he saw it. 'All right, I'll come over. I knew you'd call again, so that makes me happy. I loved the last time we were together.' "What the fuck...?" "Sylar!" "Are you fucking someone else?" "Sylar give it to me!" "ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION!" He threw the phone on the ground, hearing it crack under the effort. "How could I not when I'm dating someone like you! You a piece of shit and you can't fuck to save yo-" Seung Min had really never gone as far as seeing red before. But he did. The anger and hatred boiled up inside of him, and before he knew what he was doing, she was on the floor beneath him, with his hands wrapped around her throat, her face a purple color before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her body went completely limp. He was suddenly aware of the fact he was breathing harshly, his brows furrowed while he glared down at her, and he let go as the water sprayed onto his back. He stared down at her body in shock, hardly able to believe was he had done, and he shook her. "Aleksandra!" He cried out, and he seemed to crack at that moment. He was sobbing, gasping for air while he backed up out of the shower quickly and stared, rocking back and forth as he cried, and then he pulled his knees up, hiding his face in his knees while he moved back and forth, back and forth, and then moved to the toilet to vomit up his dinner. What had he done?

Augustus eyes focused in on the ground beside hims as Sylar's temper flared out to him once -again-. He had grown used to the smaller males temper in truth, generally speaking he was a rather laid back person but when he was on edge he seemed to be easily pushed to snapping. Augustus knew better then to fallow him out to the ally, and he knew better then to speak his mind when Sylar was upset... but at the same time... why was he always the one who had to bite his tongue? Nonetheless he was kicking himself in the head as the man in front of him continued to scream at him, forcing him in to an uncomfortable place in his mind. "I just didn't" He was cut off again. "If you were going." Again his words were cut short and he settled on the idea of just keeping quite until Sylar flared himself out. His hand clench shut as he was shoved and his own temper almost got the best of him, but rather he kept his eyes focused sorely on the ground beside him counting the pebbles in the street in order to keep himself from firing back: Twice as hard mind you. But as the key was thrown on the ground his eyes narrowed and he looked to the mans face, pausing for a moment as his rage grew steadily. Was he seriously casting him out? Just like that? After all the shit he went through all of his goddamn life he was trowing him aside? Like he was nothing? A dark chuckle emitted from his throat and echoed darkly in the shadows of the ally. "You're serious? Best friend? Tsk. You know what? I- I have a little bit more respect for you to just toss my problems with you out in the air because I'm pissed off at someone else. I don't believe in scapegoating. But if I weren't at work right now I'd sock you clean in the mouth for the amount of disrespect your showing me by running your fucking mouth. I'm at work, as I just fucking said, this is not the place for one of your tantrums. Grow the fuck up." He bent down and picked the key out of the gravel and slid it in his pocket before he shook his head. "But hey if this, our friendship, isn't working for you anymore then far be it for me to try and hold on to something that's been there since your ass showed up in America. If you wanna burn your bridges, be my guest. But I'll be damned if I'm going to help your ass build them back up again and I'll bedamnedif I'm going to stand here and let you take your frustrations out on me. So there will be no taking this type of shit back, because you've never broken off our friendship before. I bet that you didn't even argue with your girl, I bet that this was the plan all along. She made you choose and well, badda-bing I'm out in the cold. Here's to you kid! And 20 fucking years servitude, saving you're ass when you talked yourself in to much trouble. You want this to end? Peace. Go, run back to your bitch or go to Korea where they won't accept your ass anyway because you grew up in the states. Go be alone for the rest of your fucking life, I don't care. But, I would like to point out that I, I have been standing on my own two feet for a long ass time. I know who I count on when shit gets bad... you on the other hand? You had better be careful who you cut out of your life." With this Augustus turned on his heels and started to walk back to the bar, his teeth grinding as he tried to push the thought of what just happened in to the back of his mind. Eh, after a few drinks he wouldn't care much anyway...

He was sitting next to the sink, huddled up with his hands over his ears, sobbing and talking quickly in Korean. "I didn't mean to do this... oh god, why didn't she just go? How could I do this...?" His eyes nervously went to her body, waitin for her to wake up as the water poured over her torso and waist, wishing that he could turn back time and restart everything that had happened that day, but he couldn't. So his gaze adverted and he sobbed, rocking himself back and forth. Sooner or later, he was going to have to call the police and tell them what he had done. He was going to have to fess up to everything, and he'd go to prison. There was no way around any of that. And he probably shouldn't have jumped so quickly to conclusions, but he had been right. He had pushed, he'd been on the verge all night, and coming home had been a horrible idea after being angry with Aleksandra and fighting with Augustine, who he was sure he'd never see again. He couldn't call to beg him for his help, he couldn't apologize because he was at work anyway... what had he done? He needed someone right now, and if it had been Augustine, then everything would have been okay. Everything was okay when Augustine was around, because Augustine made things right even when he thought things impossible. His entire body tensed and he jumped as he felt Augustine touch him, his dark eyes wide and frightened. He struggled for a second to push him away, thinking that the person must have been the authorities or someone else, but the more Augustine spoke, the more he called, and his face contorted as he felt heavier sobs leave his lips and shook his body completely. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... I didn't... mean to... I... I don't know what I did... I just... they're going to kill me for this," he whispered as he friend wrapped his arms around him, and the small man couldn't help but lean into his touch as he picked him up and carried him into the living room and sat. What were they supposed to do, and why was Augustine even here now? They had fought, he had said he didn't want him around anymore because he fucked everything up... And here he was, fucking up everything else again because of his temper.

The majority of Sylars words went right over Augustus head as he continued to walk back down the ally back to the entrance of the bar. That was, until Sylar's voice reached that awkward pitch that he recognized simply because of the rarity of it. Despite how angry he was and how much he wanted to just go back in to the bar and ignore Sylar all together he just couldn't leave the man crying in the ally... he had known him to long, he cared to much about him to just leave him like that. He let out a sigh as his strides slowed and he turned to look back at the man but before he could say anything Sylar sped passed him. "Sylar, wait." He said trying to grab his arm to try and stop him but he just rushed forward ignoring him again. "Sylar!" Before he could even realize it the male was past the point of chasing. Normally he would hunt him down but hewasat work. As much as he wanted to try and make amends, to try and fix this, he couldn't... not right now anyway. Running a hand over the back of his head he cursed to himself and looked up to the night sky giving out a tired sigh before he continued on back in to the bar. His demeanor had melted in to a mix of sheer annoyance and guilt. This was the problem with their friendship, every time they fought Sylar could flare out freely but every time he shot back,hewas the big bad wolf. The rest of the night went by rather slowly, Augustus found himself in a numbed middle ground as he walked around the bar severing out drinks and pretty much ignoring any banter that had come his way. He wasn't in the mood to play friendly with a bunch of strangers; he had other shit to worry about. He could swear with every drink he served the clocked tick backwards and with ever lost minuet that uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach grew a little stronger; no matter what he tried to focus on his mind kept switching to Sylar and where he was. He wouldn't go back home, not at the risk of being pester by his girl, would he? And if didn't go home where did he go? Another bar? No, that would be to public... he'd end up in another made Augustus feel even worse, if he did go pick a fight with a stronger he probably ended up getting his ass kicked. Not to say that Sylar couldn't handle his own but bar fighter were never fair and well... he wasn't there to protect him. But Sylar was smarter then that, he wouldn't just go and pick a fight. No, that would be a bit too rash, even for him. Maybe he just went out driving? He did that when he was up set... but he was drinking before he left and he was pretty upset... driving was probably more dangerous then anything. It wasn't until he heard Akabane's voice call his name did he realize that he had been cleaning the same glass for a good ten minuets. He blinked a few time and set the glass down to look over to his boss who was standing next to him with a questioning look on his face. "You okay?" "Not really, no. I think I'm going to clock out early Ace, I'm feeling pretty shitty." He lied running a hand through his hair. Akabane sighed a bit before giving a nod and gesturing for him to go. "You look it, take off you only have like an hour in your shift anyway. You're not much good to me when youre like this. Go get some rest." Augustus nodded giving half a smile and he quickly clocked out, practically running out the door and to his car. Augustus chewed at his bottom lip as he sped down the back roads of the city in search of his friends home. He made it to the home in what seemed to be a quarter of the time. Pulling in to the drive way he jumped out of his car and looked around letting out a relived sigh as his eyes landed on Sylars car. Part of him felt out right silly for the panic and just wanted to get back in the car and go home but for some reason his nerves hadn't quite settled yet. The air seemed to be thicker then usual, uncomfortable, almost eerie. He looked around for a moment, frowning up to the sky as he tried to figure out why it felt so different here and he made his way to Sylar's apartment knocking as he reached the door. There was no answer. Wanting to leave but not wanting to turn away he knocked again, and again, and one last time before he remembered that his key had been returned to him that night... which ironically was the start of their argument. He reached in to his pocket and let himself in, sliding in and closing the door behind him. At first glance everything seemed normal; in fact he wasn't even sure if anyone was really there. But as he ventured further in to the apartment the hairs on the back of his neck seemed to stand on end and that feeling in the pit of his stomach grew to what resembled pain. He jumped a bit as the panicked sound of Sylars voice reached his ears. He frowned a bit and paused trying to make out what he was saying but the more he listened the less he could understand until he just sounded like the muffled cries of his friend. There was no way he was still crying, right? Augustus let but a sigh and walked to his friends room knocking as he stepped in. "Miny?' He said as he looked around the door he was greeted by humidity and Sylars cries and he felt his stomach twist will guilt. "Sylar?" He called as he walked through the room it wasn't until he reached the brink of the bathroom did he realize exactly what had happened. His eyes widened as he looked down on his friend soaking wet and sobbing next to his girlfriends unconscious body. His breath caught in his throat with shock as he stared down at them for a long moment blinking a few times before he came back in to reality. His mind swirled a bit and in truth... he wanted to run. He wanted to get as far away from Sylar as he possibly could, for the first time in his life he was truly scared of the smaller male and what he might do to him. He wanted to leave Sylar where he was but he couldn't he just... couldn't. Slowly he stepped in to the bathroom, his feet turning to led as he inched his way in to the bathroom assessing the risk. "Sylar?" He asked shakily as he reached the shower, shutting off the spray once he got close enough. Eying his friend he leaned down to the girl and placed two fingers on her neck checking her pulse, he pulled away quickly once he realized that she was indeed dead. He looked over the body to see the harsh bruising forming around her throat and his paled face turned to Sylar. He took a moment to collect his thoughts. "Sylar, it okay. I'll fix this." He said under his breath as he slowly inched towards his friend. "Just calm down." He reached out for the man in front of him pulling him in to his arms he picked him up and carried him out of the bathroom away from the body. He carried Seung Min out in to the living room where he sat on the couch and cradled his sobbing friend in his arms as he tried to think of what their next move would be. "I'll fix this." He cooed over and over again hugging the man closer to his body as he thought. "I'll fix this."

Augustus looked nervously around the living room as he held the smaller man in his arms rocking him slowly as he sobbed. He really didn't hear what the man had said, no, he was far to busy putting together a plan. There was a way out of every situation you just had to be smart enough to find it and the more Augustus thought the easier it was to contrasting this plan. You see, if they hid the body there is always a chance that someone would find it but if the body was missing completely... there was no way to tell if there was a crime committed. Augustus blinked for a moment as his thoughts halted. "We need to go talk to Papa." He said in a hushed tone as he brought a hand up to smooth back the mans dark hair. "I'll fix this Sylar, just calm down and listen to me. She left, when you told her to leave this afternoon, you came to the bar and we were there till my shift was over, we left an hour early becasue I wasn't feeling well and we came here to grab you and change of clothes and we went over to my Mama's home. Do you understand?"

Cholla Springs, a beautiful piece of desert and a perfect spot to hide. There was the gorge near by that could be used to silently slip through someones sight if need be and then there was the hills near Hangman's peak that could be managed and used as a perfect snipering range. Ashley Hayes lay out in the open behind a rock, blood trickling down her right arm as she clenched her shoulder tightly. The hungarian half-breed she had been riding was not to far from her, shot dead from right underneath her. Her labored breathing caused her to choke on the air, her lungs begging to have it as she shook behind a large boulder. "Come on out Ash. We just want to talk," a voice slurred as Ashley picked her head up to see if she could get a glimpse of who spoke. Although she already knew who the voice belonged to. Joseph Cross, a member of the gang she used to run with. Of course that was about a year or so ago, she couldn't remember. All she could remember was the memory of being betrayed by her right hand man, James Butcher. She growled at the thought of the man before she pulled out her Bolt-action Repeater. She held it close to her chest and took a deep breath. She picked herself up and leaned against the boulder, sticking her head out a little to captuer a glimps of Joseph. "Thats bullshit Joe and you know it. I know James sent you out after me to finish the job that he couldn't. Now do yourself a favor and walk away Joseph. I don't want to have to kill you," she shouted from her position. She hoped he would do as she said and leave. She closed her emerald eyes before quickly standing to her feet. A few seconds, and she shot the nearest man she could see. The man fell to the floor with a hard thud and a short scream. She could feel a few of the bullets maiming her dark brown hair as it fluttered behind her. "That was uncalled for Ash. You used to be one of us. You used to lead us, and now it's your time to follow our new leader," Joseph shouted, reloading the volcanic pistol he held in his hands. Ashley merely chuckled in response. She was the original leader of the Butcher gang, although when she ran it, it was called the Hues gang, out of respect of the former leader, Johnathan Hues. He was a good man that got caught and was hung. "And now you have crossed me, shot me, and then left me to die. How would you react if yourloyalfollowers did that to you?" She put an emphasis on loyal. It was true. When James became her right hand man, he slowly started to change. Before it was just about the train robberies, bank heists, and the looting. Then it shifted to murder and raping innocent young girls, and Ashley wouldn't stand for that. And for that, James Butcher shot her, leaving her in Hangman's Peak to die. Fortunately for her, she didn't. She panted heavily now as the sweat seemed more like rainfall to her eyes. The liquid that managed to squeeze it's way through her eyelids burned her eyes. She quickly wiped it away with the white shirt she was currently wearing and cursed to herself. She needed to end this quickly, and so far, there were no solutions. She reloaded her Repeater and took a blind shot over the boulder, managing to strike another person. Whether he was dead or not didn't matter to her so long as he was hit. After a few minutes that seemed like hours, four men lay dead, and left six standing. Ashley was down to only two bullets. She grunted as more waves of bullets flew past her, taking chunks of the rock with it. She could hear some of the men starting to move closer, and she was going to take them with her. She stood to fire at the two men, and actually aiming for Joseph, hoping to take him with her.

Mid summer in New Austin, everyone had two words to describe it, hot, and dangerous. You see, the local gangs around New Austin seem to become more erratic, more vicious in the hot months of mid summer. They tended to rob, murder and steal at a rate higher than any other time. For most people, it's a time to stay on your guard, to be wary and prepared for the worst. However, for Jayden Williams, full-time bounty hunter. It was the best time of the year, wanted posters hung on every street with rewards in the hundreds. It was a financial boon for 34 year old Jayden, and he was happy to partake in this vast opportunity for money. Jayden had been a bounty hunter for many years. To him, it was the best job in the world. He could kill people, show the general populous he's more skilled and more dangerous than the bandits he put in jail. All the while he can sleep soundly at night knowing that he's doing a good deed, and helping the world be a better place. Not that he much cared for the romantic ideals of the sheriffs he hands the bounties over to. He mostly got into this for the money, and the fact that with his background and skills, he wouldn't be good at anything else. Jayden sat at the edge of the bar in Armadillo, his deep hazel eyes staring at a bounty posting he recently took. It was the leader of a gang that has been particularly notorious. The Butcher gang, with it's leader, James Butcher. Quite an appropriate name for a man who makes a living killing people and terrorizing entire towns daily. Reward of 1,200 American dollars alive, with 900 dollars dead, as offered by the federal government themselves. That was the largest sum of money Jayden had ever seen for a bounty, the biggest gang leader he'd taken on prior was John Delrey, a man who got Jayden 340 dollars, and that was no easy feat. Now this... How terrible, how large must this man's following be to earn him such an impossibly high bounty? What crimes must he and his gang committed? These thoughts however were superfluous to him now, he wanted that money, he wanted to retire on that money. Maybe get himself a piece of land out in the wilderness, settle down and put down his rifle. He let out a sigh and took a large swig from the whiskey bottle he'd been slowly drinking for a time now, helped steel his nerves. He knew he couldn't tackle that guy alone, he had to get some help, but from who? Who would be daft enough to attempt to take down the biggest gang in the west down? Jayden finished off his bottle, letting out a sharp breath of air once it had gone down and he stood up. Donning his black felt cowboy hat. Jayden stood at six feet, four inches tall, he had medium long dark brown hair. He wore a long old duster coat that probably has seen more battles and gunfights than he ever has or will. Concealed inside it was a Schofield revolver sheathed comfortably within it's holster, his all-time favorite weapon. At his back was slung a Winchester Repeater, and at his left hip he had a sawed-off shotgun within a custom made holster. Jayden left the bar, folding the poster and stashing it in the pocket on the inside of his duster. He mounted his horse, an American Standard-bred he acquired through a rancher that was going to put him down just because he had a pretty bad sprain. Jayden bought him from the rancher and mended the horse's leg. Ever since he has been a very trusted and intelligent steed. Jayden decided to go hunting for some food, he hadn't eaten all day which was quite a while considering the sun was slowly falling from the sky. He spurred his mount into motion, urging him to go at a fast pace, he needed to finish hunting before the sun went down. He rode out into Cholla Springs, hoping to find a few deer. However what he found was not what he expected. As he rode he could hear gunshots in the distance, his curiosity got the better of him and he rode in the direction of the shots fired, it couldn't be a hunter, there were too many shots, it sounded like a fight was going on. He stopped at the bottom of a hill and dismounted. Whatever was going on it was happening just over this ridge. He ascended the hill and laid down flat at the top. He saw a shootout between a woman and six men, with four other men on the ground presumably dead. The men attacking the woman were obviously bandits. He drew his revolver and prepared to help the woman in distress, even though she seemed to be doing just fine from where he was sitting.

Ashley stood almost petrified and excited at the same time. She had stood quickly enough to spot another man coming down the hill behind Joseph and the other remaining men. She thought it was a hallucination brought on by exhaustion and blood loss from a new wound that hit her side. Fortunately it wouldn't be fatal or even close to it. She quickly pulled the trigger to her Repeater, catching her former brother-in-arms and Joseph by surprise. She managed a quick and painless kill towards Brian, someone of low rank in her previous leadership whom she thought of as a brother. He wasn't the brightest of the bunch, but he made good with his weapons. Joseph however wasn't so lucky. "Damn it, I missed my mark," she slurred out as she felt her legs go from underneath her. Joseph lay crying on the floor and clenching his right shoulder. Blood spurted from the wound and seemed to partially paralyze him. She let out an almost psychotic laugh and found strength in her legs once again. She staggered towards Joseph, taking a slow step each time, before she stood next to the stranger that had appeared and helped her. "Thank you mister. Joseph Cross, if he's got a bounty on his head, you can have him and deal with him. Just make sure he winds up dead one way or another," she addressed the stranger. She turned to glance at him, take in the kind of person he might be. He didn't seem much older than her, perhaps maybe two years older if not three. She was only twenty-nine and had never married nor been with a man. She stuck out her hand in a friendly gesture, hoping he would return it before she spoke. "The name is Ashley. Ashley Hayes at your service. This here Joe, as you know, is part of Butcher's gang. Did he make you his right hand or his left hand huh Joe? " She spat at the man who lay whimpering on the floor. He just flicked her off, which was a bad move for him. With a quick flick of her wrist, she pulled a large thick bladed knife out and managed to slice the finger clean to the bone. Another blood curdling cry errupted from Joseph as he tried to stop the bleeding. "Who might you be mister?" she finally asked, wiping the blood off of her knife on her khaki pants. She had never seen him before, or maybe she had never taken the time to actually look around at the towns she and her former gang raided back then. Even now though she still traveled the country. Which reminded her. She needs a new horse.

Jayden listened as the woman and the man whom was obvious to be the leader of this posse. His eyebrow raised up at the mention of James, she couldn't mean James Butcher could she? He took a closer look at the posse she defended herself from, they did look like Butcher's men. He shuffled these thoughts away from his mind however, right now a woman was in danger and outnumbered. He shuffled himself as far to the left on the hill as he could, hoping to take the gang members by surprise. He stood up and slid down the hill as discreetly as possible, with his Schofield revolver in hand he approached the men from behind, he hoped that the men in front of him were indeed part of Butcher's gang, perhaps he could beat some information out of him. First things first however, he had to take the leader of this posse alive. He hunched down at the bottom of the hill and slowly moved forward. Unfortunately as one of the gang members turned to spit he spotted Jayden and he spun around to face him. Jayden lifted his revolver and stood up, with one well placed shot he struck the man just above his right eye. He fell to the ground, instantly dead. The others took notice of their comrade's death and turned to face Jayden. "Shit!" He said before he opened fire on the next member in line, taking two shots, both hitting him in his chest, as he expended those two shots he pulled out his sawed off shotgun with his left and with one crack of thunder took out another man, using up both barrels in his haste. He bolted as fast as he could to the side, lucky enough to dodge a few shots made by the remaining three men. As he moved to the side he fired off the remaining contents of his pistol, hitting another gang member, one landed in his hip, another in his stomach, and the last caught him in the throat. As the two remaining men turned to kill Jayden blood shot from two well-placed shots and they both fell to the ground. Jayden stopped moving, his heart racing as he looked over to the woman who's rifle barrel was smoking.

Ashley merely stood where she was and took a deep breath. It seemed breathing was becoming a bit of a problem. Maybe it was all the excitement or perhaps the adrenaline dying down in her. She watched the man hogtie Joseph and list off the charges he would be held accountable. She never knew the gang would go that far, but then again, James did have a rather absurd last name. "Yep. I know I don't look like much now, but you should have seen me in my prime," she nearly boasted. Who would have known that she would be talking so formally with a bounty hunter no less. She straightened herself out and dusted off any remaining debris that stuck to her clothing before turning to Jayden. She raised an eyebrow at the man. "I suppose you want a little more than just that," she stated before she sighed. "It wasn't always the Butcher gang. We were known as the Hues Gang. I am sure someone like yourself had heard of a gang robbing trains and cities and taking from the rich to sustain themselves," she began. It wasn't something she liked to do, talk about her past with unknown people. For all she knew she probably had a bounty as well. This man would probably take her in as well. "James Butcher was my right hand man till the bastard shot me and left me to die. The gang had gotten out of control with him second in command. They began raping women and killing innocent people. Our gang had never been like that and so I tried 'reasoning' with James," she finished. Anger glowed in her eyes as she tightened her fist. She wanted nothing more than revenge on the man she once thought of as a brother. "I'd give anything to kill that bastard," she stated, venom spewing from every word.

Jayden holstered both of his spent weapons and he wiped the sweat from his brow. That was a close one, if the girl hadn't been there he probably wouldn't be walking right now. He stepped up to the man whimpering from his wound. He stood over him and he did recognize him now. He'd seen his face in some wanted posters he was too busy to pick up, a price of 300 dollars alive, quite the prize for someone who was now crying over a survivable wound. He looked over at the woman who had saved his life, or had he saved her? Whatever to call it he was glad she was a good shot. He tipped his hat to the ladt, putting on a crooked half-smile as he said in his low, slightly haggard voice "Your very welcome Miss..." He cocked an eyebrow as she cut off the man's finger, unnecessary to him, but not only did the man deserve that, it seemed like the two had plenty of history to justify it. He looked down at the man, a slightly bigger smile on his face as he let out a long whistle. "Joeseph Cross huh?...five counts or robery, seven counts of assault, and over twenty counts of murder... Among countless other despicable acts on humanity... You've got quite the bounty on your head mister, let's say we go for a little ride." He chuckled a bit and pulled out a line of rope, as he approached the man he reached for his gun with his uninjured arm. Jayden stomped on his hand with his large boot, a small snap was heard and the man cried out in pain once more before he was forcibly hogtied. Jayden stood up once his mark was all neatly wrapped up and he turned back to the woman speaking to him. "Pleasure to meet you Miss Hayes... Names Jayden Williams, I'm a bounty hunter..." He paused for a moment before asking. "I overheard you two talking... You used to be the leader of the Butcher gang?" He looked over the girl, she didn't have the look of a notorious murderer about her.

Ashley raised an eyebrow at his offer. Sure, she would like nothing more than to take revenge on her former brothers-in-arms, but would that really be satisfying and fulfill the empty hole that dug deeper within her heart of hatred? She shifted her weight to one leg, allowing her free hand to rub her chin in thought. This could be a great gift in disguise. She would be getting help in return for her cooperation. She turned and smiled at Jayden. "I accept your offer Mr. Williams. I shall help you take down my old gang. Resources tell me they have grown quite a bit, no doubt from empty promises on James' side," she mused out. The last newspaper stated that the gang was currently stationed near Fort Mercer. She had taken the time to scout the area before she was spotted. That's wear Joseph came in, chasing her down to finish her off. No doubt they would have moved by now. James was never one to stay in one spot for too long. "I will do this on one condition. I get to kill him after you recieve compensation for taking him in "alive", and there will be no interference from anyone," she made an emphasis on his current status. She would allow Jayden to take James alive to the authorities, but she had her own plans for him. She smiled at the thought and turned to glance at Jayden. Her eyes danced with mischief as her mind wandered off into it's dark corner. "I will meet up with you in Armadillo. I need a new steed," she stated, remembering her fallen Half-breed. She sighed and heaved her shoulders. That horse had been with her ever since Johnathan ran the gang. It was old and already knocking on deaths door, but she loved that horse. Perhaps she could capture a Kentucky Saddler in this area since they were known to be plentiful. With that in mind, she took off on foot towards a direction she hoped would lead her to a herd.

Jayden listened to the girl speak, he recognized the Hues gang. They were once one of the more wanted gangs out there, mostly because they were pretty anti-government and were a real thorn in the federal government's side as a lot of the trains they stole from were owned by the government. However they were told the Hues gang was taken out, another lie on the government's list of falsehoods. Jayden could hardly believe that the leader of a formerly notorious gang was right in front of him, and as far as he knew no one would pay anything to have her. He mentally shrugged, settling with the 300 dollars the man at his feet promised him from the local sheriff. Then as she spoke her last sentence Jayden got an idea. It sounded like this girl knew a lot of the people in the Butcher gang, perhaps even some of the higher ranking people. She could really be a big help to him. A smirk danced on his lips as he thought of the poetry of the whole idea, a former gang leader taking revenge on her former gang. He brought his hand to his mouth and he gave a two loud whistles of different tones, the tones he taught his horse meant for him to come. Sure enough his trusted horse galloped over the hill towards Jayden. As he did Jayden bent down and picked up the injured man at his feet and hefted him over to his horse, putting him over the horse's hind end and securing him there like a package that needed transport. Once he was done he turned to Ashley and said as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it up, taking a short puff before he removed it. "Well Miss Hayes... I myself have a little business with James butcher" He reached into his duster pocket and pulled out a piece of folded up paper with his bounty on it. "I'm hoping to retire on the money his murdering ass will get me... and I could certainly use the help." He took another long drag of his cigarette, careful not to blow it in her face.

Ashley lay crouched behind a thorn bush. Her instincts were right about the rumors of the herd being located just behind Cholla Springs, nearing Hangman's Peak. As she tried to single out a particular horse, the sound of slow-paced footsteps filled her ears. She turned to spot a man riding a Kentucky Saddler and behind him was non other than a Hungarian Half-breed. Her eyes sparkled with a thought, and she hurried to him. "Mister, Mister please wait," she called out to him. It startled the man as he came to an abrupt stop and looked in all directions to find the source of the voice. Ashley caught up to him and smiled, hoping to fool the man into a false sense of security. "Please, how much for the horse. I'd be willing to pay anything for him," she pleaded falsely. The man rubbed the back of his neck, not really wanting to sell the newly caught horse. It would mean he would have to go back to Mexico and try breaking another one, or in his case, steal it. "Give me $750 for it and you can have him," he spoke. That wasn't too bad. Normally the deed to a horse like that was around $1500 or so. Not really feeling like stealing the horse when she had the money on her, she paid the man, took the horses reigns, and climbed bare back on him. "Take care ma'am," the man tilted his hat and stirred his horse foreward. Ashley smiled, glad to have another half-breed in her ownership. Although she would have to buy a saddle for him now, she was happy to have another horse. She guided the horse towards Armadillo, and in an hour or so, she made it to town. She glanced around the bustling little town, watching as people crossed the road and mingled with one another. She looked around for Jayden and had not spotted him yet until she saw the black horse hitched near the bar. She smiled and rode towards the little shack of a bar and walked inside. She spotted him near the bar and walked up, slipping into the chair next to him and folded her arms in front of her. "So, what's the plan going to be like," she questioned as she ordered a glass of water, not really in the mood for something strong.

Jayden got a slight smile as she accepted his offer, glad he wouldn't bet tackling the biggest gang the west has seen in years alone. He knew it was a fools errand, his chances were virtually non-existent, but now, with another person backing him up, his chances have increased just enough. However he would need a lot more help if he ever dreamed of taking the Butcher gang out. He searched his memories, he knew of a few people who may be able to help. Those thoughts however were for a different time, right now, he needed to get Joesph Cross to the sheriff's before some of his buddies show up. He finished off his cigarette as she took off in the opposite direction of where he was headed. He flicked it away and took a moment to re-load his revolver and shotgun, just in case. He mounted his steed and urged him onward at the fastest the black stallion could go. He arrived in Armadillo not too long afterwards, he slowed down to a trot as he rode through the walls of houses and stores. The man slung across the horses hind end pulled stares from many passerby, people who either know who he is, or what he is. Jayden strode up to the sheriff's office, Marshal Leigh Johnson was taking a smoke out in front of the office at the time. He saw Jayden, and knowing him for other bounties he threw him a friendly greeting. "Jayden!... glad to see you again partner, looks like you caught yourself another one?" He said as he walked up to Jayden, flicking away his spent cigar. Jayden dismounted and pulled the man off his horse and let him fall to the ground. "Yes sir... This ones quite a catch too" Jayden said as he pushed the man on his back with a foot to show his face to the Marshal. "Damn son, Joesph Cross huh?... Quite a catch indeed, Come on inside and we'll get you your money... Jonah! Eli! Show this murdering bastard to his cell please" the marshal said as he turned away from the tied up man and walked inside. Jayden followed him as the hillbilly Jonah, and his fellow deputy Eli came out to drag the man inside. After Jayden got his money he headed to the bar to wait for his partner in bounty hunting to show.

Ashley took a sip of the water that was guided to her by the bartender. She listened to Jayden's speech, chuckling when he mentioned James' small army. Truth be told, he did amass a small army and they all acted as personal body guards to James. She placed the bottle back down and turned to face Jayden. She stared at him a bit, studying his face to see if there was any thing that might give her a heads up of his true intentions. She didn't trust people so easily and she wasn't about to trust this bounty hunter, no matter if they were partners out for the same person. "I suppose you are right about that. As for Leo, yeah I am familiar with that whore as well. He'd do anything to please James,anything. From what resources have told me, he is holed up in Benedict Point. There is a mine down there that he uses to transport some of the ammunition and weapons to wherever James is located," she briefly stated. She fiddled with the glass bottle and stared back at the cup. She searched her memory for anything that might be useful. Leonard was a weird, but very intelligent man. He could weasel his way out or in any situation, and that's why James had trusted him. Plus the man was obviously attached to James in one way or another. "He's not the only one that's got resources in high places," she mused, taking a large gulp of the clear liquid before setting the glass down. "But first thing is first. Leonard Laney needs to be dealt with swiftly. If left alive, more than likely he'll inform Butcher of our plans and we'll be slaughtered before the calvery could arrive," she added on. She stood from her barstool and winked at Jayden. She stepped back and dusted off the torn and blood covered shirt she was still wearing. "But first a gal's gotta freshen up. Covered in blood isn't exactly fashionable for one such as I. We will go meet one of yourfriendsand see if we can conjur up a plan that will not fail," she spoke clearly and in almost a demanding way. "I will meet you at by the sheriff's office in thirty minutes. I need to send out a message to anaccompliceof mine. He'll be able to tell me where Leonard is currently hiding. Sometimes he likes to visit the whores of Thieves Landing, even if he's a bit messed up in the head," she waved Jayden off as she left.

Jayden cast off about a dozen or so requests from the local whore in the bar of Armadillo. He was never in to that sort of thing, he believed that sex needed to have at least a little love to make it worthwhile. He sat at the bar just quietly drinking from a whiskey bottle, it was regular sort of ritual for him, after he had caught a bounty he would go right to the bar and drink, not until he was on the floor drunk. Just enough drunk to stave off the memories of his past he didn't want to be brought back up. As Jayden drank slowly, waiting for the girl he'd met earlier to show, he began to wonder who in his list of old friends could he call upon? Jayden had a great many people he does buisness with. He couldn't really call them friends, for most of them are either people who owe him money, people that are alive because of Jayden, or people he used to know from a long time ago, too far back than he was drunk enough to think of. He saw Ashley in the coner of his eye, slipping into a bar chair next to him. He pushed away his bottle, feeling if he drank any more he might start slurring his words a little. He reached up and scratched his bearded chin as he went through a list of people's names and faces in his mind, a few stuck out. "Well... It won't do us any good to just run in there guns ablazing. From what I hear, James Butcher has done enough looting, robbing and killing to have amassed his own small army. Complete with gatling guns and cannons. It won't take a genius to know we would get killed before we even got to James." He paused for a moment to pull out a little notebook from his duster pocket, in in was all the names of people he knew and could be of use to him and all the places they normally are. "We need to take out as many of James' higher ranking men as we can if we ever want a chance at him, and I know some people who can help use out with that." "I know of one guy, Leonard Laney, you might know him, he acts as sort of an information broker for James. This guy has a lot of friends in places all over, even some in the government. Laney informs Jason of all the high priced pockets, all the trains stuffed with money or government munitions... If we take this guy out first, James is gonna have a hard time getting any new hardware and cash to fuel his little army, making our job just a bit easier." He said while looking over at Ashley, a slight smirk on his face as was his trademark.

Ashley smiled as she passed on the message. It wasn't long before she found the tailor and found a new suit. It was a dark brown vest with a lighter shade of brown long sleeved shirt. A typical bounty hunter outfit. She laughed at the irony when she had purchased it. She had purchased a bandolier to hold more ammo and hung it over her shoulders. Her pants were now black jeans and they fit perfectly on her, giving her enough room to move and yet comfortable to wear. She pulled back her hair into a loose ponytail, allowing some of her hair to frame her face before placing the Bolt-Action Rifle in it's holster on her back. She grabbed the Carbine Repeater and placed it in the holster that was attached to her horse. She stroked his fur and smiled. This had to be a blessing in disguise. Here she was with a bounty hunter hunting down her former gang. She chuckled at the thought before she walked into the gunsmith. She purchased more ammo, she didn't want to be caught without it again, and also some for Jayden. She knew he had a Winchester so she bought some ammo to keep him loaded. It wasn't like they were just killing two men. No, it was more like massacring an army. She hoised the Rolling block rifle to her other shoulder so that she had both rifles secured. Besides, you can never have to much ammo, not in this country. After placing the ammo in the necessary compartments, she placed the spare ammo to the side in a pack that laid on her waist. She exited the building and called for her horse. She led him to the Sheriff's office and spotted Jayden standing near the building. She spotted him placing something in his duster coat and raised an eyebrow. She walked beside him and gave him a questioning look. She glanced around, perhaps he had met with someone while she was gone. "What have you there Mr. Williams? A new bounty?" she questioned while folding her arms across her chest. "I don't know if we have the time for new ones Mr. Williams," she spoke as she turned around and mounted her horse. She reared it towards Benedict Point and smiled. "Shall we go or is there anything else you need to get? My informant will send me details once we reach Mercer Station. He will be sending the information out that way. It's a bit of a ride, but it's real close to Benedict Point," she stated as she waited for Jayden. Perhaps it wouldn't be too bad to befriend this bounty hunter. Even if he was a chilvarous man, it was refreshing having a companion who wouldn't try to kill her, or at least that's the impression she recieved as she had studied him.

Jayden sighed as she spoke of Benedict point. He remembered the last time he went there. A different gang was holed up inside, he and two of his closest friends went to take down the Steven's gang. Little did they know that they had a generous storage of dynamite. Caused a lot of trouble for the three of them. Even caused Jim Harold, a man Jayden was thinking of contacting, to lose his right arm. His firing arm, he spends most of his time as a drunk in various parts of the world. A great bounty hunter turned worthless drunk at the throw of a stick. Jayden's thoughts disappeared as she continued, and Jayden listened intently, if he was going to take down Benedict point he would need some new hardware, preferably something ranged. He stood up as he did and he put his hat back on which had been lying on the table next to his whiskey. He straightened it on his head and nodded at her. "Meet you there Miss Hayes" He said with a touch of formality, he had a bit of chivalrous personality when it came to women. However this girl seemed like she could cure him of that. Jayden walked out of the bar and they parted ways. Jayden headed straight for the gun shop. He entered and was greeted by John the shopkeep, they both had a mutual friendship as John normally provided Jayden with plenty of ammo and was even the one who sold Jayden his Schofield. Jayden greeted him back and got right to buisness "I need something that can take a man down from over 100 meters, can you help me?" The man behind the counter bit his upper lips and held up a finger, disappearing into the back of his shop. He returned with a Rolling block rifle. Jayden let out a low whistle, he expected a bolt action rifle or something used for hunting. This was a military grade sniper rifle. "Damn John... Whered you?... Never mind, how much do you want?" He knew better than to ask where John get his merchandise, he just knew it wasn't exactly legal however. John put on a smile and said "Give me 200 and it's yours" Jayden's jaw tightened at that price, he had 350 to his name at the moment, and he needed ammo. After a bit of consideration he shrugged and agreed to the price, also purchasing plenty of rifle ammo for Ashley's rifle as well as a few shells for his shotgun and a few boxes of Revolver ammo. He also gave his Winchester to John, not having room for it at the moment he told him to hold onto it for now, Jayden trusted him enough for that. He left satisfied, now only having 50 dollars however gave him a little remorse. He headed for the sheriff's office to wait for his new partner to arrive to meet him. He also decided to check the bounty board, the price on Jame's head may have gone up since the one he'd gotten before was almost a year old. What he saw blew his mind, the price had jumped to 3,000 alive, 1,800 dead. He was a public enemy, the government were desperate to take this man down. Jayden had never grinned so much in his life as he took the postr and folded it away in his duster.

Ashley smiled towards Jayden before kicking her horse to match Jayden's American Standard-Bred. She lingered behind him, just a bit, and took notice to her surroundings. The sun was still high in the sky, and there was a gentle breeze. It was calming in a sense that frightened her for some reason. Whenever it was calm and gentle, there was usually a gang somewhere around to take that serenity away from you and throw you into a state of fear and anguish. She knew personally as she had done it many times before on would be government officials transporting large sums of cash to the bank in Blackwater. "So, Jayden," she began before pausing. "If you don't mind me calling you that, what exactly made you decide to become a bounty hunter? I am pretty sure a young boy dreams of more exciting things than killing outlaws and making money off of them," she continued, picking up her pace so that she was an inch behind him and staring at the back of his head. She didn't decide to just become a criminal. Rather, she was born into it. "My mother was a working woman who traveled with a gang. She had me during her times so I guess you can say I am the bastard daughter of an outlaw. Sounds exciting doesn't it. She died before I turned eight and I was taken in by Johnathan Hues. I grew up apart of his gang, and when he died, I inherited it. We weren't killers you know. We did what the government couldn't and provided for those who were in need," she spoke a little. In order to trust someone, you must first learn about them, right? And right now Ashley needed to know she could trust this man. If she couldn't, she would leave him the first chance she had and she didn't want to have to do that. This was her first real chance at something and she didn't want to waste it so hastily. She kept her gaze fixated to her surroundings. Something seemed off to her and she liked to follow her gut instincts. "I think we should stop here for a few, and let the horses rest. We've been riding them pretty good," she spoke as she rubbed the thick neck of her stallion. Splotches of grey fused with the white fur of the horse signaled he was tiring and if he didn't rest soon, she would have worked him to death. They had closed in upon Repentance Rock and it had a wonderful view of the plains. It was perfect for her to scout and see if they were being followed. If anything, it was just her paranoia playing tricks on her. She seriously hoped she was just paranoid.

Jayden looked up as he could hear Ashley's voice and he got a bit of a surprise when he saw her. She cleaned up well, very well. He never noticed her face before because of her hair in a mess and her cloths were splattered with blood. She was, actually rather beautiful, something he didn't expect to see after what he'd seen her do. A beautiful woman who knew how to kick some ass and wouldn't take any crap from anyone, Jayden cracked a light smile, he kind of liked the Idea. He pulled his eyes away from her face as he knew if he did it any longer he would be staring. He stayed silent for her first question, deciding not to tell her of James' increase in bounty. He didn't know why, perhaps it came with this line of work, with the kill or be killed mentality in things, he's been screwed over by supposed partners before. Or perhaps he wanted the money to himself? Or perhaps he just didn't trust this girl enough yet, he would have to see which was the real answer, for now he stayed quiet. Once his horse galloped up to him he mounted it and reared in the same direction she was facing her horse. He returned her smile and said "No ma'am, I have everything I need... Let's go catch us a weasel." He said with a little laugh before lightly kicking his horse into a slow gallop, urging her to come along. Jayden began to think about the woman he was now traveling with, sure she was the former leader of a huge gang. The Butcher gang in fact. However Jayden heard stories about the Hues gang, it was supposedly a gang that didn't kill, never terrorized the public and would often even help the unfortunate. A lot of the Hues gang's members back then were strays, people with nowhere to go and nothing to their name. They weren't saint's by far, and they had no qualms about defending themselves. Jayden suddenly had a rise in respect for the woman riding beside her.

Ashley merely listened and understood and respected his wishes. She did not buy his smile however; if he trusted her enough, he would tell her in due time. She felt a little nervous now. Vultures circled high in the air, constantly flying close to the ground before shifting back up. They only did that when something was about to die and they could smell the death lingering in the air. She shifted her Carbine Repeater on her shoulder, glancing up at the large rock before her. She glanced back to Jayden, and then headed towards the boulder hill. When she reached the top, she kneeled down, pulled out her Rolling Block Rifle and peeked through the scope. She didn't have a telescope like most of the rich folk, but she decided it was best to buy something else then a telescope when she already had a sniper rifle. It did not help that the sun was setting already, but luck seemed to be on her side as the silhouette of a full moon appeared in the sky. At least it would be brighter and she could cover more ground that way. Spotting nothing but an empty wasteland, she relaxed a bit and sat against the tree, closing her eyes for a few seconds before reopening them. Something stirred in the bushes, and as she aimed for it, a deer hopped out, strangled with the thorns of the brush. "I think it would be a good time to rest. We can take shifts keeping a look out in this here parts. I don't like how calm it feels and the vultures circling us like that," Ashley concured while slipping down the hill. If her memory serves her well, James was the type to hunt at night when people were less guarded and tired from a hard days work. If they slept in shifts, they just might have a slim chance of making it to Benedict Point by tomorrow afternoon. Although her stomach demanded food, her mind was set on staying alive for the night. They could pick something up tomorrow at the station. She pulled off her weapons, keeping her Bolt-action rifle closer to her, and set them on the ground. Although she had three other weapons, the Bolt-Action was her favorite and she could use it more efficiently. "I can take the first shift. You seem more exhausted then I do," she spoke as she dug through the bag that lay at the Hungarians side. After finding her ammo, she placed it on the bandolier, making sure she filled every hole with ammunition to be on the safe side. The episode at Cholla Springs was one she didn't want to have to do again. "And I'm more familiar with my gangs tactics," she added, trying to justify the reason why she should be the one to scout first. Even if he wanted to rest first, she didn't want to give him an open option and immediately began her journey back up the large rock. It was perfect for her to hide and yet open enough for her to keep watch without worrying about being surrounded or jumped from behind.

As Jayden rode with Ashley right on his tail his eyes scanned the horizon. Watching the slowly approaching outline of the desert and mountains ahead of him. His gaze however was interrupted by the girls question and he threw a glance at her through one eye before putting on a slight smile. He was silent for a long moment, he was both wondering whether he should actually tell her, and how to precisely phrase it. He only decided to answer her once they had stopped and dismounted their horses, even then he held a long pause before he began. "I never really chose to be a bounty hunter... I guess, to put it simply, I've seen and done too many horrible things to deserve the simple life... I didn't pick this job, or the life I lead, but when all your good for is killing people and breaking things, you might as well make a profit on it." He put on a fake smile and looked over at Ashley. He could see she wasn't satisfied with this half-baked answer but he had no intention of sharing his past with her. At least not yet "I may feel inclined to reveal more of my past later Miss Hayes... For now, it's hardly something I can even think about without a bottle of whiskey in my hand..." Jayden reached into his duster and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a long drag and blowing out a cloud of smoke. A wave of calmness hit him afterwards. He could see the sun beginning to creep behind the horizon and the light began to fade. He began to also feel a slight amount of uneasiness, his eyes became more focused and he looked around a bit.

Ashley smiled when Jayden fell asleep, although the light breathing told her he wasn't completely asleep quite yet. She climbed the large rock and sat in the middle, pulling the Rifle closer to her body. She fixed it on her shoulder and peered through the scope, outlining and scanning the area. She wanted to know where every crack and hole was before she felt secured enough to let her guard down a small notch. The vultures seemed to die down with nightfall, scrambling around the floor and pecking at the dirt to find small traces of flesh or food. It seemed like a few hours had passed by before she felt the urge to sleep. Before she could even register it, a sudden movement caught her eye. Without hesitation, she pulled her rifle to her shoulder and shot in the direction. A shrill scream and a thud signaled she had hit her mark. The scream didn't sound human and she quickly descended down the hill. She reached the location her bullet had flown and peered down at what she had shot. A frown marred her face as she kneeled down and picked up the creature by its hind legs. "Stupid animals," she muttered to herself before tieing the rabbit by its hind legs and swinging it over her shoulders. "At least it'll provide some type of breakfast in the morning," she mused as she stalked towards Jayden's current location. She set the rabbit down close to the fire and grabbed her water cantine. She cleansed her hands of the blood before drying them off and walking towards Jayden's slumbering form. She placed a hand on his shoulder and gently shook him, trying not to startle him. If he was anything like her, he'd most likely either pull a knife out on her or a gun. At least that's what she used to do when she led the gang down the country and slept in barns and whore houses. "Hey, it's your turn big guy," she spoke out lowly. Although she couldn't help to wonder if they should continue moving, or stay put. The gun shot could have easily given away their position, and she didn't want any trouble while she slept. She wasn't exactly a morning person, and she hated to be woken up when she was comfortably asleep. She sighed inwardly before pulling out a blanket from her bag that settled on her horses' hind quarters. She un-rolled it and laid it on the ground before pulling out another one. "Try not getting us killed either," she chuckled out in a whisper before settling into her bed.

Jayden spotted the vultures at almost the same moment Ashley did and he felt the air stale with the nervousness and uneasiness they both felt. He knew vultures were never a good sign, they always signaled death wherever they flew but there were more than he was used to seeing. Jayden took another drag off his cigarette as he watched Ashley climb the boulder hill. Once his cigarette was spent he flicked it away and decided to collect up some supplies for a small fire, it would be dangerous to spend the night without one warding off coyotes and mountain lions. He was lucky enough to run across a nice dried up dead tree, it had more than enough branches to supply him with a small fire for a majority of the night. He broke off a number of branches and brought them back to their horses. He set up a small campfire, big enough to keep them from freezing and hopefully small enough to remain undetected. He pulled out some dried up grass and crushed them up to provide a better fire starter. He used up one of his matches to start up the grass and then began feeding the flame. He wanted to protest, but she obviously wouldn't have it and before he could start up his chivalry he was shot down. He put on a slight smile at her insistence, it was rare to find a woman like her, strong and independent. He chuckled and simply said "Whatever you say Miss Hayes, just wake me when your ready to get some shut eye." He laid down on the cold ground after feeding the flame a good amount of wood to keep the flame going for an hour or so. He closed his eyes and slowly slipped into a light sleep.

For Tark'Ek this was the night of triumph. Not only did the future Olo'eyktan managed to defeat the Sky People in battle, but he also captured personally one of them! He manged to jump at the read-haired creature from behind and tie it down with Or'Vi ropes while the other warriors barleykilledthe remaining three. Now he held it's leash in his hand as it moved behind him....the arrogant being it was, now enslaved by the People....looking at it made him both angry and happy, for it will pay for the crimes of it's race. They entered the Home Tree surrounded by a mob of the People, male and female alike, old and young, strong and weak. The entire tribe celebrated their victory. Tark'Ek heard the words of praise coming from all the directions and for him and his warriors and the insults towards the prisoner shouted by those who noticed it. The Sky Person seemed not to understand what they were shouting- he wasn't surprised. Tark'Ed couldn't really expect a primitive creature like this to know the language of People. In the central plaza under the Tree stood Gar'Nat, the current Olo'eyktan. The People formed a large circule around them and fell silent. Gar'Nat spoke "I heard the word of your victory, and I am proud of that, Tark'Ek, son of Kar'Ek. Yet I am surprised to see the prize you brought. It's been many Periods since the last time Gatarokataya tribe captured one of the Sky People." It was true, Tark'Ek was still an Aspiring Aarrior the last time they captured and executed one of this filthy aliens. "This makes me even more proud then" the old man continuer, "for this proves I was right when choosing a successor." He paused for a moment. Tark'Ek was shining with pride. "Let me examine the creature now...." Tark'Ek pushed the Sky Person forward and pointed to the floor. "On your knees before Olo'eyktan, alien".

Bound and helpless. That's how Sarah felt at the moment. It was supposed to be a normal routine that was to turn out normal results and just be plain normal. How did she get into this situation? Ignorance and complete disregard for her superiors. She had only been on Pandora for a few months now. Prior to coming, she was undergoing the physical and emotional therapy to help strengthen her lungs to support the air on the vast Na'vi planet. She let out a sigh, trying to capture a glimpse at her captors through her red strands of hair. Her gray eyes glimmered through the light of the forest. It was beautiful during the night, and had Sarah been at home right now, she would be enjoying it. If she were to ever return to her squad, she would be sure to give her commander a little more than just a piece of her mind. It was a setup and she knew it. She and the lieutenant could never see eye to eye and, although she obeyed her orders, she didn't like the older man. She struggled with the binds, but failed. Small sweat beads trinkled down her forehead, she was getting frustrated, and she hated being frustrated. All the training she recieved did not prepare her for this. She had not planned on getting captured by the indigenous nor being left with no rescue. She knew her life wasn't that important, but damn. There had to be at least one other human missing her right now, trying to convince the army to come and rescue her. She couldn't speak the Na'vi language and she couldn't understand it. It was the only comforting thought she had as she sat in captivity, waiting to see what they would do with her. It couldn't have been too bad. After all, what could primitive animals do to an 'alien' other than tear them limb from limb and probably bask in their blood as they slowly died. She shuddered at the thought. She wasn't ready to die and if that were to be the case, she would at least try and take one of the giants with her. Stop. There was no reason to be thinking like that. She gave out a ligh chuckle, almost sounding like a whisper as the wind played with her hair, giving her better access to the view. They had come upon a large, no huge tree that would have been the perfect treehouse to any little child with a big imagination. Of course, Sarah could only stare in awe.

The creature sat, but notkneeled. Furthermore, itspoketo the great Olo'eyktan of Gatarokataya tribe. Tar'Ek, enraged, moved tomakeit bow. Just when he was about to grab the alien's leash, Gar'Nak stopped him with a gesture. The young warrior gave him a surprised look. Olo'eyktan ignored it and approached the Sky Person. He brutally grabbed the creature's chin and started moving it in various directions, as if examining something. Few seconds he finished and pushed it away in disgust. After a moment of awkward silence, he announced, looking meaningfully at Tar'Ek. "It's a female" The young warrior shook his head, confused. When capturing a male, it was easy. The prisoners were publicly executed and the case was over. However, according to ancient Na'vi traditions, capturing a female required..different approach. Warriors who manged to captured a female in battle where granted privilege of publicly humiliating her and taking as his own in order to insult her tribe. Now, this situation was a little different. That woman was an alien. She wasn't of any tribe, she was of... Sky People. Tar'Ek's thoughts took different direction. What an honor it would would be for his tribe, what an insult to the Sky People if he did it to her? With a triumphant smile, he addressed Gar'Nak "Oh great Gar'Nak, Olo'eyktan of Gatarokataya tribe. I hereby ask you to grant me the Privilege of Victory." The old man nodded. Then, he raised his hands and announced: "The warrior asked for what's rightfully his. Rejoice!!!" The crowd surrounding them started screaming his name savagely. Such screams were supposed to help the warrior realize his primal energy and make Eywa know that this is the moment of his triumph. Although it had been a long time since the last time such situation happen, knowledge about this and many other rituals was passed from generation to generation. Olo'eyktan moved back and watched the scene with an indifferent facial expression. Tar'ek removed the piece of Pa'li skin covering his sexual organs. His member wasn't hard yet, so he started to masturbate, while constantly looking at the captured female. In a way, she was beautiful.... He wondered if she has vagina in the same place the woman of the People do. He'll soon find out....This uncertainty stimulated him even more. Soon, he'll be ready.

Sarah grunted as she fell to the floor. Still bound, she managed to spit some of the dirt out that made it into her mouth in the process. She staggered to sit up straight, kicking the dirt in the process and glanced around. Many of the Na'vi seemed joyous and happy to the one that captured her and glared as they spotted her. She twitched her nose a bit, clenching her teeth as she stared at the Na'vi standing in front of her. She heard the Na'vi male speak to her and pointed to the floor. "What? You want me to do something on the floor?" she questioned, not quite following what the male had meant. She turned to glance at what looked like the leader of this particular clan and frowned. He wanted her to bow? Hell no. She was to proud and stubborn for that. She lifted herself up and stared at the Olo'ekytan leader, or what she thought was the leader and glared at him. There was a sense of pride that she had, and the years of training in the military was about to see how far it would get her. "I will not bow to you," she coughed out, still a little dirt lingering in her mouth as she spoke. She took the time to slowly move her hands about, trying to see if she could somehow cut the rope with her metal watch, but to no avail. She mentally cursed herself and glanced around the large tree. There were alot of Na'vi inhabiting it and it reminded her of a city back on Earth. Oh now was the time she wished she had stayed.

The female stood up. It didn't really mattered to him though-he'll have her anyway, everyway he wants. There is nowhere to run, and with her hands tight there wasn't much she could do anyway. It was truly the day of People's triumph. The day of his triumph. After humiliating her, this little alien female will become his property, as the ancient laws stated. She will pay for her crimes, of that Tar'Ek was certain. When his member was hard enough, he charged towards her with a savage roar. With one kick in the belly he put her back on the ground where he believed her place is. Then, encouraged by a cheerful screams of the Na'vi gathered around he lied down on her, covering her clothed body with his naked one. He spread her legs and looked at the place where her count should be. Like the most of her body, it wasn't exposed. After failing to find the way to remover the material, Tar'Ek grabbed the cloth around her vagina and simply ripped it off. Surprisingly, there was another material under it. He ripped it off as well, finally exposing her small pussy. A little too small for his dick. Despite several attempts he was unable to fit it in. He was mad from both rage and sexual stimulation. Looking for a way to reveal his animal lust he sticked his long toque out and licked the female's cheek, while constantly pressing his penis against her vagina.

Sarah looked around confused as to what was going on. Her face was abruptly grabbed and then tilted, as if he was inspecting her. He made a face of disgust before things seemed to be quiet, almost an awkward silence type of thing. Then he spoke. Of course she couldn't understand what they were saying and stayed silent. When the one that captured her spoke and rose his hand, the others started wailing and cheering him on. "What the hell is going on here," she stated more to herself as she placed her legs beneath her, forcing herself up to stand. When she did, she noticed the male Na'vi take his direhorse cloth away from his genitals and exposed himself to her. All she could do was raise an eyebrow and say "What the fuck," before he advanced towards her. He began toying with himself as his gazed was fixed on her, like a wolf staring the sheep down, as he did so. She turned her nose in disgust before realization dawned on her. "Hell no, you aint gonna stick that in me," she nearly shouted, her head frantically searching for an open space to run, but there was none. The Na'vi seemed to cheer him on as he did so and while she occassionally stared at him, her mind twistedly wondered how the hell he would fit in her. He was twelve foot tall, she was barely passing six, being at five foot ten inches.

Unlike fine, Na'vi women during the Privilage of Victory, the alien woman offer no resistance. What a pathetic creatures these Sky People are! So arrogant, so pompous, so disrespectful towards Eywa....yet when captured, they can't even fight back. Of course, this wouldn't have changed anything but honor required fighting to the last drop of blood. For some reason however, her passiveness made him even more horny...he wanted to rape and ravage her and nothing, especially not her cunt, will stop him! Angry , he tried to penetrate her yet again. With one, powerful thrust, he charged his penis into her vagina. It was tighter and felt better then the pussy of any Na'vi woman he fucked ever before. When his cock was only halfway in,he started rapidly pumping inside her, stretching her cunt with every move. He knew he was causing the alien pain, but that stimulated him even more. He wanted to make her pay, he wanted to complete the ritual, but most importantly, he wanted to satisfy his own lust. While he was fucking her, his tongue forced it's way into her mouth. For him, it doubled his victory. He continued raping her for a long time, until he couldn't hold it anymore. Tar'Ek howled savagely as he started cumming inside her vagina. Soon, he felt the pressure of his own semen, there was simply not enough place inside her for all of it. He quickly pulled his penis out, his cum poured out of her wide-opened cunt shortly after. The crowd of Na'vi was screaming his name cheerfully and Olo'eyktan nodded his head. This part of the ritual was over. He stood up and looked at humiliated creature lying below. His last was gone, and all he felt now was some strange mixture of rage and happiness.

Sarah gasped in pain and horror when the Na'vi male charged her. He kicked her to the ground and savagely assaulted her, trying to remove her clothing in which he seemed to fail. When he seemed to give up, he tore off her clothing, leaving her bare to the Na'vi's eyes. She felt a shiver fall down her spine and immediately began to squirm underneath the taller male. He seemed to be confused, almost as if he was calculating something before he began to fit himself inside her. Sarah almost laughed when he seemed to fail before giving a slight grunt as he rubbed against her. "Told you there is no way you'd stick that thing in me," she almost regretted stating that as his tongue flickered out and touched her cheek. She would have spat in disgust but she was afraid that if she opened her mouth, he'd stick his tongue, or something else, in it. As he tried to fit himself, she could feel the pressure against her vagina, part of her wanting it and the other screaming to kick him off. She knew better though as the male Na'vi was clearly taller and stronger than herself. She wouldn't be able to fight off the whole Na'vi clan if she were to actually escape. Without intentionally doing so, a soft moan elicted off her lips as he continued to fit himself in her. Although he was clearly thicker and wider than the average human, it surprised her that it still wouldn't fit. Back home on earth she had heard some rather disturbing tales of larger men fitting into smaller women. How they managed, she didn't know. She was just glad he wouldn't be able to stick his penis in without first widening her. A fit of rage still filled her being, trying her hardest to cut the rope from her wrists so she could have an advantage with free hands.

Sarah's eyes widened as a scream tore from her throat. The sudden violent thrust managed to get the Na'vi's large penis into her, if only half way, and it felt like she had been split into two parts. It burned and it caused so much pain that she felt the burning sensation of tears fall down her cheeks. She tried to move, but as she did, it only caused the pain to grow and so she elicted to stop. As she opened her mouth again to scream in horror, the Na'vi male forced his tongue into her mouth, tasting his saliva in the process. She wanted to throw up and she wanted to die all in the same essence of her being. He ravaged her for a long time, and when she felt him release, it filled her more so that when he removed himself, his cum had poured out of her widened vagina. Sobs errupted as she shook violently, the pain still coursing through her body as she tried to move. She didn't know that it could hurt so much, but then again, he wasn't exactly human to begin with. She felt the urge to kill herself as the Na'vi people rejoiced in her humiliation.

Jessica crept around the town that was once known as Raccoon City. It's desolate streets filled with loud moans of the undead sent chills up her spine. She hid behind a dumpster as a zombie lazily stumbled by. If she timed it right, she'd be able to rush past him and manage to get to the weapon store that was located just in front of her. She took two deep breaths and held the third. With a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins, she bursted from her hiding spot, shouldered the zombie from behind and caused it to plummet towards the floor. "Ha, slow poke!" she muttered to herself as she made a mad dash for the store. She didn't want to be caught outside by one of the dogs. Oh how she was terrified when she learned her pet doberman had to be shot in the head when it turned. She could still remember the stench that left it's body as the rotting flesh rolled down it's spine, exposing his ribcage. When she reached the store, she began to hail down her fists as hard and fast as she could to catch at least some sort of attention. Although she wasn't sure if there was a survior in there. After the first three bangs on the door, she was greeted with a shotgun to the face. Immediately, the man pulled it back and opened the door, pulled her in, and shut it behind her. She began to weeze as she gulped in the air she had seemed to have lost during the escapade and felt her knee's buckle in beneath her. Her dark brown hair cascaded down her back and touched the floor as she lay with her hands on the floor and her knee's touching it. She gazed the area with her blue eyes before she gazed upon her savior. He was an older gent; short and stocky with a salt and pepper hair style. "Thank you sir," she stated as she rose from the floor and shook his hand. The older male nodded before settling down behind his counter. "I wasn't sure if anyone was still here," she stated, following behind him and leaned against his counter. "And thanks to you those monsters out there will know there are two morsels inside just waiting to be ripened for the taking," he growled out as he set the shotgun down on the counter. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose before turning his dark brown eyes towards Jessica again. "I suppose I couldn't just leave ya out there anyways," he concluded as he walked towards his door to lock it. Jessica had made her way towards the counter as he did so when the door burst open and a flood of zombies collided with the floor. "Damnit!" the man shouted as he made a grab for his shotgun that had still laid at the counter. Fear shone in his eyes as a group of zombies made a grab for his legs and pulled him down. Jessica tried to cover her ears to the screaming and the crunching as more zombies flooded in. She let out a scream herself as shots began to be fired and another man appeared. He told her to get behind him and she did as she was told. She ran out the door and out into the streets.

Jacob woke up, just another typical day in Racoon City. Being part of the special Stars squad did have some advantages, he was offered a big house with a nice salary and everything he could dream off, the payment of offering his life for the service each time he was called into duty. Jacob was a very strong person, his broad muscles and six packs often attracted a lot of ladies, however due to his line of work he often was left having one night stands with no real realationship. However that did not matter, not anymore since a few days ago the world practically ended. Umbrella corporation the unkown cause of the end of the planet. Releasing a deadly virus that killed and reanimated the bodies of the dead. The world ended, the only problem was the dead did not stayed dead. He looked around from where he was hiding, a small appartment in the fifth floor of a building. It was small enough for him and somebody else, he had it stocked full of food and weapons. The entrance was reinforced and there was no chance any zombies would get in the appartment. He did all this in the first three days of the infection, now his mission was simple, find any survivors. Taking a deep breath he equipped himself with some weapons and a few granades for in case of emergency and walked down the stairs into the first floor of the building. Taking a deep sigh he walked off with his gun raised in case any zombies attempted to attack him. The roads were very empty wich was very odd at this time of the day. He expected the roads to be filled with zombies and him firing a lot of rounds. He walked through the streets trying to make no sound at all. His eyes focused at everything going on around him. He was going to check first places where food might be found or weapons, those were the first places where a survivor would go. It was then when he heard a woman scream, a survivor. Running out in the direction where he heard the scream he saw a old weapons store, the same store his best friend owned. Running he looked inside and saw a woman backing away from a lot of zombies, his best friend on the floor being eated alive by zombies. The sound of the zombies eating his flesh and the woman screaming paralized him at first before opening fire. The first hit landed on the head of the zombie who was about to bite the young woman. He rushed in and kept firing his weapon to any zombies who came near, Lady, behind me walk out, the symbol of Stars on his shirt as he fired away and waited for the woman to react to whatever it was happening.

Jessica's eyes widened in horror as the streets began to become infested with Zombies. The man seemed good at what he did, shooting, and it served a purpose well to protect the two. She squealed slightly as zombies began to corner them before the man laid waste to them, creating an opening as they walked down the streets. She tried to stay alert, adrenaline still coursing through her veins as they strolled down the infested streets. He handed her a handgun, asked if she knew how to shoot it, and proceeded to walk towards his "home" or so she thought. Although she wasn't incompetent with a gun, the only time she'd ever shot one was when she was applying for a concealed weapon liscense. She of course failed it, and has only been to the shooting range once or twice a month, given her current schedule, but now, it seemed like it would come in handy. When they approached his house, Jessica stood in awe of it. It was rather large for a man to be on his own and when they entered, he mentioned he was part of the S.T.A.R.S. group. That explained why he was so good at shooting. She sighed, allowing the adrenaline to cool down as he spoke. So his name was Jacob, and he was a "former" member of the said group. This would be quite interesting. "I'm Jessica, and thank you for helping me out back there. I wish I could say the same for that man. The poor guy didn't deserve to go out like that," she muttered as they neared a barricaded door.

He groaned as he saw a zombie bite his friend, Fuck. He pointed his gun at the zombie eating the man and blew its brains out. The body of the zombie fell down on top of the store owner lifeless body. As he pointed at shoot at the other zombie he realized there were beginning to attract other zombies thing that he did not wanted to at the moment. With a sigh he backed away and looked at the woman, If you want to be safe, follow me. He shot at a zombie that was approaching and walked to the corner of the streets. It would be a good ten minute walking before they could reach his house, if they ever got the oportunity to reach it. Racoon city was in shambles, cars were abandoned everywhere and the odor of rotting flesh were now a common thing. It all happened so fast that he barely could get out alive, if he ever got out alive it would be a miracle. Grabbing a handgun he gave it to the woman, I sure hope you know how to shoot, its loaded just point at the head and shoot away. His eyes looked at the full of horror eyes of the girl and sighed, Look I know you are scared, but if we are going to get back home I need you to be alert. He shot at another zombie and slowly started to walk in direction back to his house. He took cover in every car and looked around before continuing on his way, to others that action might be stupid in the situation but it kept him alive. He counted each zombie that he saw each time he took cover and thought if they were going to be able to reach him. Running back to his appartment he saw two zombies in front of the door. Grabbing two knifes he threw them into the zombies head, We dont need the noise attracting the zombies. Once they were inside the building and he closed the door he could breathe a sigh of relief. Walking to the door where the stairs were he held it open so the girl could walk in, once she did he closed the door and locked it with a couple of special made locks he placed. Hiding the gun he nodded, My name is Jacob, former Stars member, for now we are safe. What is your name lady? he said as he started to walk up the stairs in direction to his floor, each door was barricaded strongly except the last one.

"Oh, alright," Jessica stated as she moved to the bathroom. She pulled off her backpack that strung to her back and set it down on the floor. She rummaged through it and found a large white t-shirt that would reach down to her knee's and cover most of her body. She stripped down to her bare underwear and turned the water on. She tested it to make sure it wouldn't be too hot nor to cold. Once it turned out to be just right, she finished stripping and dipped into the pool of water. "Hm," she soothed out as the warm water began working her muscles, soothing them so that they were no longer sore. Jessica ran her fingers through the water as her mind flittered to a time when things were simple and less complex. She could remember seeing her family, her brothers and younger sister standing in their backyard as they blew out their second birthday candle. Tears stung at her eyes as the image of their bodies bloodied and torn apart entered her mind. Her father was eaten by the cerberus that had attacked him as he tried to get them away, and her mother was caught by a zombie that fell on her. Her younger sisters were only five and fell to more cerberus along with her eldest brother who tried to save them. Only she and her second oldest brother remained alive. However, she didn't know if he was or wasn't. He had left and she was on her own, hence the reason why she was running through the streets. She was also searching for him. Her mind seemed to wander, uncaring to the world at the moment as she relaxed in the water.

He kept walking up the stairs, the place was full of the same rotten odor that was in the streets. Once he got to his floor he opened the door and walked in his room. It was rather small, mostly filled with food and supplies for survival. Electricity was being supplied by a power generator on the appartment. As he entered he let her get in before he locked the door and secured it, once he did he took off his gun placing it in a table besides the door, "You are safe here". He stretched out and looked at her, "Are you hurt, bitten or scratched?. If you do I am going to have to do something you might not like, kill you". He had seen it so many times, people get bitten and then infected by whatever was killing all living things out there. As he walked to the livingroom he sat on the couch and looked at the girl. If she was bitten he won't kill her until she start to show signs of the change, it would be nice to have someone to talk to after the couple of days alone. Pointing at the door he smirked, "there is a bathroom there, you can go take a bath if you want to relax". He opened the window and looked down at the streets, the zombies mindlessly walking around and the only thing heard down there were the moans of the zombies. He shook his head and looked at her, "Go take a bath, then we can decide what to do next"

As the two Malfoy men entered they glanced around the shop with a look that could only be described as disgust, frowning at the sigh of all the....people. Still, this was a necessary unpleasantness for Draco to get the books he needed, though Lucius had no idea why he had to be the one to bring the boy, surely his mother could have handled such a menial task. Draco seemed to move away from his father to both search for the books he needed and to make his presence known, attempting to feed his already oversized Ego by belittling all he came across, making sure even the Slytherin students knew to fear and respect him. Lucius Malfoy on the other hand had different ideas. He began to move slowly and carefully through the store, careful to never touch anyone or let anyone touch him, as if the people around him were far beneath him, but he didn't need to say it, his mere presence said he was superior. Eventually he seemed to notice someone, someone who had watched him for a moment before seeming to resume a search for books. Just as Hermione had finally found the book she was looking for, just as she was about to reach it, a pale hand reached past her, snatching the book from the shelf. "My my....this is what they're teaching students now...? How.... quaint..."

The book shop was as crowded as ever as Hermione Granger tried to squeeze through the crowd. Oh Merlin this was so annoying. She had decided to do her shopping without Harry or Ron this time. Making her way over to a shelf with her list in hand she began to go through the titles scanning over them. After a second she gave a frustrated sigh. The people in the shop seemed to have mixed them up pretty good. 'Great. Now I'm going to have to hunt. This is going to take all day.' She thought as she looked over the jumbled mess. She really didn't want to do this right now. It was her 5th year and she had really demanding classes. So they demanded more complex and harder to find books. Pursing her lips she found one title she needed and decided to move to a less jumbled shelf. No luck there. This day seemed to be getting worse and worse. Little did she know but her day was about to get even worse when the bell of the shop rung again and two certain people stepped in.

"Youth....always in such a rush these days..." Lucius began to turn the book in his hands, occasionally opening it and flipping through the pages, before snapping it shut once again. "Now now....you say it's your book? Yet I picked it up first....and Draco has been interested in this particular title...." The slight smirk on his face made it immediately obvious he was toying with her....and loving every second of doing so. "So you don't have the time? Well...." He went to hand the book back to her, though as he did so his long, pale fingers would brush against her hands. It could have simply been an accident, but the simple touch was just enough to let Hermione feel the coolness of his skin, how smooth and almost delicate his fingers were, before he pulled his hand back. "Very well, be on your way girl...."

She sighed as the book was snatched from her line of sight. Hearing the voice she inwardly groaned. Oh not now. Why did her day have to get worse. She would have just left and gone to find another copy. But that particular book was a bit rare and finding another copy would take hours in this sea of people. So she sucked it up and turned around. "Yes very quaint. Now would you please hand me my book." She said trying to keep polite tones holding her hand out. But inside she wanted to just snatch the book out of his hand and punch him square in the face. But that would achieve nothing. "Please Mr. Malfoy. I hardly have time for this." She managed as her eyes caught sight of the clock on the wall. Damn she was already supposed to be at lunch with Harry and Ron. She was still holding her hand out almost impatient now. Pursing her lips for a second she sighed.

As he began to tease her with the fact that he might in fact buy it for his son she wanted to duck out of the situation and test her luck with the other shelves. But as he snapped it shut she almost flinched. She seemed to always tense up around him. But most of it was due to anger. As she looked up at him she set her lips in a grim line and kept her hand held out. When he finally gave her the book back something happened that she could only think to be an accident. His long elegant fingers brushed against hers as he pulled away. The feeling of his cool pale flesh trailing across her own made her involuntarily shiver inwardly. Mentally shaking off the feeling she nodded politely to him as he shooed her away. Quickly she moved away from him to find her other books. After finding everything she needed she made her way out of the busy shop and over to the Three Broomsticks to meet Harry and Ron. She was welcomed of course by them inquiring as to where she had been. She then explained her awkward run in with Mr. Malfoy. Both of the boys of course were just happy nothing happened and it had ended quickly. But Hermione still couldn't shake how strange it had been.

With movements like a shadow, virtually silent even on the spiked heels of her armored stiletto shoes, Lyra made her way across the deck and towards the Bangaa with her long ears partially flattened along her head. She had been over-seeing their landing from further up on the deck, undoubtedly tending to whatever it was that she did while the ship was in the air; any time one of her crewmates sought her out, the Viera was usually below deck tending to various matters, and shirking any attempts to engage her in conversation. While she had been a member of the crew for quite awhile, she had managed to avoid forming any bonds with anyone as well as keeping her entire person shrouded in a veil of mystery. Dont be too hard on them, Rahzil, came an accented female voice, low, but carrying easily over the clamor of the crew preparing their embankment. It came as a surprise to the aforementioned Moogles and they faltered long enough to realize they would earn themselves another warning if they continued to delay. She turned slowly to look at Rahzil, her eyes narrowed and her voice unreadable. You cant rely on them for everything. Are you afraid of getting your hands dirty? It was not entirely clear in what manner she meant this, jest or otherwise, but take it as he would, she brushed passed him with her long white hair swaying behind her, not intentionally appearing as standoffish as it came across. Lyras lips glossed in white set in her typical expressionless line that at times lent her a look of amusement but usually came across as a frown of distaste. Her stomach and thighs were bared, the typical fairer shade of the Veena Vieras, but she wore across her chest very light armor that was silver in color laid atop a sheer top that held substance where it mattered to conceal her body and billowed about her arms in an elegant manner. On her lower half she wore a much simpler strip of this almost sheer cloth suspended by a thinly twined cord, and armor along the sides of her legs contoured to her shape. While her armor looked more of a decoration than a method of protection, but crafted as they were the substance was more durable than it appeared. The great ship shifted beneath them, signifying the cut of the primary engines, and the roar on her deck died down substantially as the crew took a moment to gather their orders before disembarking if given permission. Solajn was the name of the town where they stopped now, a town unaffiliated with any pirate guilds and largely ignored by the officials of Ivalice. Its neutral status made it a popular stopover and resupply center for outlaws. It was nestled in the crook of a cliff, a large span of buildings situated around an even larger port southeast of the Euryt Village. Seemingly drawn by the sight of the village, Lyra hesitated, her hip cocked to the side, her eyes moving slowly. They would not be here long, but the desire to be out of the air and on solid ground was nothing something an earthbound creature could easily ignore, though she could think of no plausible reason for her to leave the ship. Frustrated, she turned to look at her crewmate, her arms folded beneath her breasts. She was looking at him so pointedly, it was hard to ignore.

Hey! shouted the deep, guttural tone voice of a Bangaa. Careful with thos~ lines~! The voice shouted with a hint of agitation on the already brash accent. You going to crassh us~! He hissed, his ss sounded even more distorted than usual as he squawked at a group of Moogles struggling to anchor one of the tow lines to the port as the heap of a ship was being steered in. The Bangaa was fairly typical of his people, short-fused, stubborn and rough around the edges. He folded his arms, shaking his snout at the tiny furballs as they regained control of the ship while it was landing. Capn is~ gonna to be furious~ if you sscratch is~ baby! He shouted one last time, turning to make sure that the rest of the numbskull crew was doing their job right. This tall, green scaled tyrant of the Rima Lees deck was Rahzil, the First Mate under Captain Hughes. He belonged to a group of bounty-hunters who sought after pirates both sky bound and below. He was dressed in loose trousers, made of simple brown textile, his tail; lashing about behind him lazily was clad in leather plated armor, the same style wrapping his left arm from shoulder to the back of his hand. He bore a cutlass at his waist for skirmishing, though preferred to fight with tooth and claw. His snout was long, but came to a round point rather than the ling spindly ones some of his kinsmen sported. His four long ears where decorated with silver rings. Rahzil wasnt entirely green, his snout, chest and stomach where an off-white, and around his amber eyes where orange markings, the same color lining his back in jagged stripes. Although most of the deckhand feared his iron-fist dictatorship, they also respected and revered their reptilian friend, as it hasnt been more than once that he has saved them.

For a long while, it seemed as though the Viera wasnt going to bother with answering his question, though there was an unmistakable light of amusement in her eyes, the source of which was not clear. The Bangaas snarls in response to her remark sent all those nearest them scurrying further away from them, though it was obviously more of a lament of self defense than a threat of some kind; but they knew better than to risk his temper. If anything, her own position on the crew was far more questionable since she seemed to put in the very minimum of hard physical labor on her own part, but her standoffish personality tended to deter any questions or resentment her crewmates may have held for her. Seemingly contemplating her response, she said slowly in a voice that was as low and expressionless as before,No. The near silence on the deck was a little disquieting, the cry of the large cliff birds and the endless whisper of a sharp northern wind buffeted by the edges of the cliff the only sound of any prominence to reach them. A sudden breeze ruffled the sheer material about her waist and stirred the thick fringe of white bangs curling elegantly about her cheeks. She was watching an airship ship that had docked long before them, longer than the Rima Lee with a tapered nose, painted primarily in shades of brilliant yellow with black highlights, an odd combination for a vessel that belonged in the sky. Thus far she hadnt laid eyes on a single occupant, and it almost seemed a ghost ship. Her ears didn't detect the sound of even a single running engine or a single voice. At this thought, she looked toward the port and curiously noted the lack of people along its bank. When it seemed as though that was all she was going to say, she continued.This is the first time that we have made landfall in a long time.Her voice was soft, but wistful now. She dropped her arms to her side, abandoning the defensively crossed arms. Perhaps we can gather information while we are here. I have heard,she said, turning her head slowly to look at him with, her face carefully devoid of any readable expression, that the taverns in Solajn are famous for the mead produced from the forests around these cliffs.It would certainly sound like a bribe more than a useless piece of trivia provided for virtually no purpose, and with this simple invitation poised as a statement, Lyra donned her elbow length gloves, which were fitted at the back of her hands with a pair of long, curved, double-sided daggers, and disembarked without fanfare or a backward glance.

Rahzil cringed as the accusing tone oh so familiar rang through his mind. Although he didnt hear it often, it was still unmistakable, even above the clamor of the harbor. Turning towards the sound, his slit pupils narrowed as he was called out. Ahhh but if Im not hard on em, who will be? Hmm? He said, fighting back as he shook his head. He waited for her to face him, only to receive a critique about his position aboard the ship. Her words boiled his short-fused temper, and he let out a deep grumble as he was called out. Ive been on this ship before any of ye! He challenged, watching as she moved past him, spreading his arms wide to his side. You know very well that Ive earned my privileges~, and if any of these hair brained wannabes~ want anything, then they need to earn it! He snuffed, knowing his point was made, even if it fell upon deaf ears. He wondered how someone with such large ears could so easily ignore so much as he pivoted, brushing aside his frustration as the ship jerked into its final position for the time. Calling out to the crew he dismissed them from their duties until further notice All right, you ladies~ can take leave. Rahzil, being one of the longest lasting members of the Rima Lees crew, didnt enjoy being sized up, especially from someone he saw as a lesser rank than himself. This attitude was probably part of the pack-mentality that his kind still clung onto, a remnant of their tribal past. Rotating back to his female companion, he was unnerved to be greeted by the look she so often gave. It wasnt even the look, he was getting the whole deal; the stance, the cold glare and the deep-pitted sense that he had done something to terribly annoy her, even if that wasnt what was on her mind, but the Bangaa had given the quest to figure her out long ago. I really hates~ that look It always~ makes me feel like Im doin something wrong. Rahzil gave a sigh, So, have you any business~ here? he asked, in a small attempt to make conversation.

She watched him descend with one eyebrow arched, her large feet planted at shoulder length, one arm curved at her side to finger the wrap about her waist in a thoughtful manner. She did not have to express her pleasure in him accompanying her, the simplistic gesture of awaiting his approach so that the crewmates could walk equally if he so wished.Try to keep up,murmured the Viera, her right ear twitching in a way that was more rabbit-like than usual. She moved with confidence and grace, unaware of the play of sunlight like liquid silver over her clothing, her movements powerful and predatory. Every few paces she would shoot him a glance from the corners of her angular eyes, contemplating a topic of conversation that would benefit the both of them. We are bound to find something goodsaid the woman suddenly, her voice low. She stretched her hand and curled her fist, the blade catching the light and throwing it back at her face.I wonder what kinds of treasures are hidden in these mountainsides. Despite her people not being native to the area, Lyra could see the beauty in the hideously jagged asymmetrical outcroppings that was the cliff side. The outcropping where the village laid was so steep, there was no way that it had all been explored, merely traipsing near the outer edges of the villages caused the land to crumble away from ones feet; it was said it was a only a matter of time before Solajn fell into the abyss below. The town would have been quaint if it were not a gathering area for the more unsavory travelers that walked its streets, prompting the people to cater to their needs, constructing pubs and facilities specializing in the repair of aircrafts and weaponry alike. To Lyras pleasure, they did not have to worry about meeting the stares or queries of the locals while they walked, as there didnt seem to be many people milling about despite the hour of the day. An older Hume watched them from beneath the wide brim of his hat, a piece of straw bobbing between his lips, and a pair of Hume children watched them, wide-eyed, from behind a water barrel, their eyes filled with distaste. They are not to happy to see us, it seems. They approached a building after a short time that was undoubtedly a booming tavern in the cover of nightfall. During the day, however, it looked more like run down restaurant with dirty floors and void of customers. The light slanted inside through dusty windows, providing a feeble light to an area that was primarily lit with lamps. They were the only occupants other than the bartender and a scantily clad Hume waitress, as well as lump of rags sitting near the end of the table that was snoring softly. The girl perked up momentarily, prepared to greet their guests, until she actually laid eyes on them and her face fell visibly. Oh, she sighed. Morepirates. She spoke with great distaste, before turning her back on them and disappearing into the back room. The bartender was a little friendlier in his greeting, but he was wary. What can I get for you folks? sighed the man.

Rahzil stared rather blankly, waiting for his long-eared companion to answer his question in any form. As usual, however, just as he was about to give up with her, she made a response. He should know better not to be shocked by her blatant, to-the-point answers, but he was still caught off guard by it. No? he asks, shaking his head as he waved a hand at her, moving away as he intended to leave the ship letting her do as she pleased. He didnt have the desire to take deal with her attitude, or lack of one, for that matter. Just straight up, no. He murmured to himself, snapping some remark in a Bangaa tongue, stepping towards the plank of the ship to dismiss himself to a bar. However, before he stepped off the vessel he turned to her one last time. Ill never understand you Lyra. He commented, noticing her ever-present blank stare into the horizon. He turned his amber hued eyes the same direction, nothing on the horizon, the port, or even sky showing anything remarkably interesting to the reptilian, resulting in an uninterested shrug. She always seemed to have something going on in her mind. As to what it was, exactly, he would likely never know. In fact, Rahzil wasnt even sure what her job aboard the Rima Lee was. Though, he tolerated her all the same, mostly because she was a capable fighter if need be, but it didnt hurt that she was the only female over two feet tall on the ship, and quite easy on weary eyes. He pivoted once more, and again, just as he was about the exit the ship she spoke. He grew frustrated with her delayed mannerism; but a smile cracked on his snout as the words: Tavern and Famous Mead rang through his head. Oh, so, why dont we make our way to some of these taverns and see if these rumors~ are true? He cackled, his laugh cracked and jagged, stepping to the side as she passed him, silently exiting the ship. He followed behind her, his top-heavy body surprisingly well balanced with the aid of a tail. He was the feared brute of the ship, but it was all thick skin, and he failed to see anyone on board that he could readily trust. Especially since the crew was constantly losing members and hiring new hands. Although, that was also mostly his fault as well. He was interested in seeking out information at the taverns, it had been a while since they had a job that he had enjoyed, the small fry mop-ups they had been performing hardly satisfying, and the promise of something to drink always helped the matter.

The Bangaa busied himself with the sights of the city and the bold sight of the cliffside that created a natural barrier around it. The shadow of the looming ridge did little in the way of cooling the small settlement as the warm, briny air that wafted up from the southern seas was warm and gentile. He remained vigilant to the streets around them as they traversed, a keen eye out for thieving pickpockets. He was ready to snag the wrist of a greedy passer-by, and teach them not to take what wasnt rightfully theirs. However, he was a bit surprised by the absence of people on the streets. Even for a smaller town such as Solajin it was eerily quiet, something was definitely amiss. Hmm he responded in a quiet, albeit rough tone as he pulled his attention to Lyra. Perhaps~ there are some old ruins to be found. He added, grinning toothily, the thought of treasure hunting sounding much more bountiful than their usual work. Rahzil couldnt help but notice the shabby state most of the village was in. Although the architecture, for the most part, was nice, it was marred by shacks and shanties. Most of the buildings made from mason where falling into disrepair and neglect. Much more poor here than I imagined. He commented blatantly, turning to witness the elderly gentleman sizing them up, a small grunt breaking under his breath. No, they dont but then again, since when is anyone happy to see me? he asked, his mood lightening as the hint of humor played his words, a sharp chuckled following shortly after. A large, claw clad hand held the door open for his Viera companion as they entered the tavern. He may have been a brute, but he still retained some shred of civility under his thick hide. His amber eyes, as aware as they where outside, looked about the stale atmosphere of the tavern. The flickering shadows cast by the oil lamps and fluttering dust playing in the small shards of light from the windows the most activity inside. Dead as a doornail. He caught the door with his tail as it swung closed, quietly settling it back in its frame so it wouldnt slam and draw too much attention, even if there was all but nobody present in the bar. He turned to the man peacefully dozing in the corner, shrugging him off as a mere hobo before moving up to the bar. A smile broke his face as the Hume barmaid turned to move up to them, however before he could make a brazen comment about her looks her expression went stale, and she so open accused them of a foul trade. Instead of simply correcting the woman, Rahzils eye gave a small twitch as a flicker of his mood sank. If there was one thing he couldnt stand, aside from invalid crew members, it was being wrongly judged because of his race. Listen, Hume! He retorted, voice rising. Just because I dont look like you, doesnt give you the right to assuming anything about me! With a deep seeded growl he turned, refusing to sit at the bar now, choosing to shift to a table at the center of the room, far from the ignorant wench, muttering to himself. Theyll never learn that us Bangaa are more than brutes out to destroy them. Rahzil didnt even notice the bartender had entered while he threw his tantrum. It wasnt until the man spoke that he responded, turning towards them and informing the man that his employee should watch her tongue better, and stating how its no wonder their business is so poor if that is how patrons are treated. But his tone was beginning to subside as fast as it rose. He set his elbows on the table, resting his snout in one of his hands as, letting himself cool down.

Eyes slowly opening, she noticed her circuits beginning to fire. Rapid impulses ran along each one making sure that the body they were embedded within was functioning accordingly. Sensing, learning. The neural net awakened, defining everything the eyes were seeing. Giving them names, reason, purpose. Slowly, she turned her head from side to side, gaining a bearing on balance and location. She could easily tell that she wasnt on Earth. Her processors told her that the slight shift in gravity was synthetic. She was in space. Her skin absorbed the temperature of her surroundings, allowing her to deduce that it was a comfortable 70 degrees Fahrenheit. Strangely, her skin reacted to the temperature change. Her encasement had been much warmer and the neural processors that ran through her skin made it rise up as goose bumps suddenly appeared. Taking what would be called a breath, she looked down over herself. She was naked, her body pink from the warmth of her case, though she could see it reacting to the sudden rush of cold air as it swept over her skin. Her base programming allowed her to almost sense what was happening as she became what most would call alive. But in her world was termed switching on. She assumed the sensation she felt was what most would call cold as she watched her breasts become taut and her nipples rather hard. Tilting her head, she almost smiled at the sight, trying to blend what she already knew of her own build along with what shed been programmed to know about humans. Curious, she stated, her voice soft and very feminine. On wobbly legs, she stepped out of the encasement to further examine the body her neural network had been hardwired to. She was female; she could see that. She could almost feel that. Her base programming let her become aware of what she was and what that meant. Each and every part of her switching on, becoming fully functional as if they were all organic. She looked at her legs, followed by her hips. They were shapely and soft looking, the epitome of feminine. Her arms were toned and her tummy flat. She had long delicate fingers on feminine hands and modest size breasts that could easily fit into her fists. Her body felt strange, but she liked it and she could tell that shed enjoy coming to understand it, the way it worked, what it did. Taking another step, she noticed she had hair spilling across her shoulders. It was long, so very soft and was the color of chocolate. Interesting, she muttered as she lifted a hand to feel the tresses cascading over her body. Looking up, she caught sight of another. But he wasnt like her. He was organic. He was human. Hello, she said. I believe my name is Reegan. At that she gave him a smile.

The Research Station Deep-Space 4 Deep-Space four was originally built to house one hundred researchers. It is expansive, with rooms for all sort of activities. Even though it was built to house many, it actually only has one living occupant, Dr. Gregroy Mance. Dr. Mance is here because he can find no other place to study a black hole so closely. His research is famouse across the galaxy, but the man himself is a hermit. He spends his days doing research, studying variations in gravity flux and energy seepage of Nature's most impressive creation. The station itself is powered by these fources, an invention of the Doctor. He has but one complaint, he is lonely. He has asked several times to have someone transfered out here, but the seclusion keeps them at bay. Finally he has ordered an android companion, since he feels he has no other recourse. He has instructed that the companion be female, and that she be equipted to deal with the social necessities and help him in his research. He stands today at the loading dock, waiting for the supply vessel which has made a special run just to deliver his unique package. He watched it couple with the air lock through tiny a porthole. The delivery person wheels in a large ceramic box, containing his new companion. The delivery man doesn't even speak, and Doctor Mance is left alone again. Now though he is not alone. He nervously turnes on the power of the unit to bring his android out of hybernation. There is an owner's manual attached, which he skimms. There are all sorts of warnings about treating the android carefully as it forms its personality, which he of course will obey. After more than an hour the unit finally is ready to be opened, and so open it her does...

Reegan tilted her head and gave the man who called himself Doctor Gregory Mance a smile. According to her programming, it was the sort of response humans would expect under such situations. Given that, she felt her plump rosy lips turn upward and she could see straight away that her actions eased the man, even if only a little bit. Thank you for the coat, Doctor Gregory Mance. Or, should I call you Doctor? Or Gregory? Reegan paused a moment, her expression turning what appeared to be thoughtful. Or maybe youd prefer an endearing nickname like Greg? As the white lab coat slipped over her body, Reegans body began to sense warmth. Her wires immediately began to fire electric impulses throughout her circuitry, sending messages to her body, telling it to react accordingly. Slowly, the goose bumps disappeared, the initial reaction of her breasts to the cooler air relaxing just a bit. Before Gregory could answer her, Reegan began answering his other questions. Those are indeed my things. We can unpack them in a little while. First, I will take you up on your offer of a tour. Id very much like to see the place and learn my way around. She paused a moment as if gauging his expression and thoughts. If I am to live here with you, it would be important that I know where everything is. Again, Reegan gave Gregory a smile. She stood there in front of him, his lab coat somewhat covering her body. Unfazed at her nudity, she didnt even bother to button it up. Instead, she let it hang open, giving him a nearly full view of her exquisite body. Slowly, she moved closer to him, looking up into his eyes. Her body was less than an inch away from his and she could almost instantly sense the warmth radiating off his body. His body temperature had risen a degree and his heart was working harder than it had been mere moments ago. Reegan reached up a hand and gently touched Gregorys cheek. Are you all right, Doctor Gregory Mance? she asked, her face showing genuine concern. If I can assist you in any way, please tell me how I can be of best use to you.

Gregory was overwhelmed by the sight of her. Her body, her face, everything about her was exactly as he would have wished it. His jaw hung to his chest and his eyes were wide and roamed her nude form. He was gauking...he hadn't been around other people, let alone a woman, since the university. That was ten years ago! He tried to compose himself, as her nipples began to react to the cold, he gauked again. He made himself get composed, but his body wasn't being helpful. He was erect in his trousers. His mouth and throate were dry. His brain was sending the right signals, his body just was having trouble processing them. Someone once told him men dont have enough blood to run two heads at once, and now he truely understood that statement. He was a tall but not overly broad man. He had long curly dark hair almost black, and eyes to match which were framed in glasses. He was alergic to contact lenses. His frame was lean, even wirey. There wasn't much else to do in off time except exercise, eat, and watch movies. Most games and such required at least two players. Her statements were profound. "Interesting" as she looked about, and then she greted him and told him her name. With great effort he managed to reply,"Ahhhh...hello. Ummm I am uhhhhh...Doctor Gregory Mance. I am pleased to meet you. You...you must be cold. I am sorry I...please take my lab coat."He shucked the white coat and wrapped her in it. He shivered as his fingers made contact with the soft skin of her upper arms. Any contact with her would likely illicit simular or even more profound reactions. He realized he was sweating despite the comfortable tempurature. "I'm sorry, I didn't expect you to be so...so beautiful. Welcome to Research Station Deep-Space 4. I am in charge since I am...well I was before you arrived...the only resident here." The delivery man brought in many more large trunks, marked with words like clothing, necessities, toiletries, etc. It occured to him that he did not have any of these things for a woman, none had been on board since long before he had arrived."Those must be your things."He swallowed, trying to make his throat wet so his voice sounded less raspy."Would you like to unpack. Perhaps a tour first. Maybe you would like to relax after your long trip...no probably not, your probably ready for action."His face turned three shades of red as he wished he could swallow those words!"I didn't mean that you were ready for...I meant you would like to be active." She was so beautiful. How would he manage to concentrate on work now? Did it even matter?