The Underground

First topic message reminder :

There is a world beneath the human one, a world where creatures from myth and legend still stalk the streets and live their lives quietly in an attempt to survive in the humans ignorance. Every city has its secret culture and society of these creatures, though very few in the human world know of its existence. The government knows, of course, but largely allows these creatures to live in peace so long as they do not threaten the stability of the human world. The Underground, as it is called, is far from a safe place for these beings, however; various factions bicker and squabble for control, and every Zone has its own unique dangers and factions. However, it is a safer place than the human world for some, since many of the creatures are so monstrous that they would be found out in an instant in the human world, so must stay below in The Underground for their own safety. Glamours to make these creatures look human are available...but at a price, and many can't afford it, as The Undergrounds economy is heavily weighted towards the Upper Classes. The poor get poorer and the rich get richer, as they say.

You are one of these creatures, trying to survive in this New World of secrecy and hidden conflict. Are you a soldier for a local faction, or the leader of a Noble House? Are you a humble shopkeeper, or a master assassin? A street urchin who grew from childhood to slip in and out of shadows to survive, or an out of towner with no idea how the politics and society of this new area works? The decision is yours....but beware. Around every corner lies a new danger, a new threat, and life in The Underground is always a risk. There are even rumours of a new faction rising...a terrorist cell, determined to take back the world from the Humans. They could change everything, if the rumours are true...and not necessarily for the better...

Welcome to The Underground, adventurer.
Have a pleasant stay.


The Zones

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Playable Species

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Factions:

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Glamours:

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So! That's the write up including everything we discussed. If I missed something, please let me know. Post the links to your bios below, and I will include a brief one-line summary of your character along with the link up here.

Character List/Players:
- Zalgo Driim, Male Warlock, played by Zalgo The Imminent.
- Tristan Astereus, Male Ordo Dracul, played by Murdoch.
- Genevieve Snyder, Female Half-WereTiger, Half-Shaman., played by Faith Wynters.
- Kiaki Matsuoka, Female Aniwolf, played by Jade Hawk.
- Monique Terren, Female Magi, played by Burn It.
- Mason Walker, Male UPD Werewolf, played by Mason_W.


Current Posting Order:

- Burn It,
- Mason_W,
- Murdoch,
- Jade Hawk,
- Faith Wynters
- Zalgo

Ooc: I'm sorry guys. It's not going to be until tomorrow morning before I can reply. I have rehearsal until 11:45 then I've got work to do around the house until bed. I'm sorry for the inconvenience

My deepest apologies guys. Honestly, I know you're going to be extremely annoyed with me when I say this but I am withdrawing from this RP. It's not something I can continue and I want out before it gets too much.

You guys have every right to be angry.. Im sorry. Have fun guys, please keep this going and don't let it die on my account.

In light of recent events, I will not be leaving the RP. Please ignore my previous post and I'll continue to post once my turn is up.

With my shoes on and bag around securely hung around my body, I made my way out of the small apartment. I make sure to lock both locks, checking the door multiple times before heading towards the stairwell. If there was anything I wanted less it was to get robbed of what little belongings I had. I endured the stained carpet on the stairs and the light pink all paper that reminded me too much of Pepto Bismol to enjoy. Soon, I was out onto the busy street, people pushing past on their way to work, children playing on skateboards and in the few trees that lined the street. In this town, even the poorer neighborhoods always bustled with life. I looked across the street; few cars lined the curb, for most people took public transit or walked. Across was another apartment building and down the whole street it was lined with either businesses or apartments. All were small, like mine, but each had a name in the area which told the person how expensive they were. Mine was one of the more expensive, but not most expensive on the street. I was fine with that though. While there was a division in housing within the area, once people were away from their apartments, all groups blended together in one breathing entity. I was not here to live in luxury nor did I ever intend on living in a place where my home cost as much as it did for the view it gave me of the city. I was here to survive and blend, and in the heavily populated poorer communities of the city, I blended easily in some cases, and poorly in others.

I drew eyes as I began walking down the street. The clothes I wore were not name-brand, but they were from when I was younger; a more affluent time in my life. They were not the kinds of clothes you found on people around here. They had an air of nicety about them that few in the area knew. I always drew eyes, however, when leaving my apartment for that reason. After a few moments of starting, however, the pairs of eyes that did stress at me as I walked slowly turned back to whatever they had been doing before. It was assumed that I could be either two things dressed like I was in this part of town. I was either here buying drugs, or I was a travelling floozy. Of course, neither was true, but at the recent time, I had no extra money to purchase clothing more fitting for the area, for that, I was stuck in the light of promiscuity until I could save enough money to be confident I could survive with the extra expenditures for I didn’t want to extract any money that I had acquired from Belneiros-supposedly from my father- until I absolutely needed it, or I had completed his unknown task in the underground.

I stopped now at the bus stop, where I would await the transit that would take me to…East Second… I was wary about this. My memory, most times good, had begun to forget these memories that I needed. I needed to go under the bridge, almost like a troll to make it to The Underground. Absentmindedly, I reached up, rubbing the purple stone in wait for public transit. I did this often while lost in thought, but now, it was more important than ever. According to Belneiros, the locket around my neck was the key inside The Underground. I wasn’t sure how it worked, and the few questions I had posed about it were either avoided or not known. Once again I doubted that the answers were truly unknown, but there was no arguing with the man. I smiled quietly, shaking my head at the memories. There was no doubt that he was a great Shaman and person, but he was stubborn as a mule at times. He taught me more than my mother, and took place of my father when I needed a mentor. He was probably the only reason that I made it this far, without being detected.

The bus pulled up to the stop. Taking a moment to check the time, I hummed a quiet tune to myself. The bus was actually a few minutes early, and I was glad that I hadn’t lollygagged in my home any longer than I had. The doors to the bus creaked open, allowing it’s line of passengers to slowly pay for their ride and find their seats. As I stepped onto the bus, I scanned my season pass like many of the others had done before me, found a seat, and got comfortable. It would be a long journey to Second where I would get off and the many stops in-between would cause a long trip. I wished I had known of another place in which I could enter The Underground. Since I was new to the area, I knew very little, but if it was as sprawling as Belneiros said it was, then there had to be a closer entrance than across the city. I was just a little disappointed I didn’t know them.

OOC - Murdoch you have permission to God Mode me into the room so we can get this moving (y)

The pause in between people walking into the room I know already is going to make us look unorganized. Since, according to my watch which reads 9:08, we’re already late. Not that it matters much to me anymore considering the people in that room are as significant to us as the bug under my $200 shoes. They’re worth nothing to me or anyone else in this building – and I only have patience for people that are worth something to me. That are worth the effort.  Still, how you look outside the eyes of those that are important need to be just as impressive. Especially since it’s my full intentions for these men to leave here with their eyes and ears intact… nothing can be promised regarding the rest of them though.

“I don’t fully understand Tristian, but I’ll do as you ask none the less. We’ll walk in together and get this ugly mess over with.” I said in a haste, wanting to get in there and see just how big this colossal shit whole is going to be. Are they legitimately going to play it off like they’re in there to discuss and actual deal, just to say no at the end? No matter what we through at them? Or are they here to formally tell me to go fuck myself and everything at my company? I want to know exactly who these seven men are, but most of all I want to know what vendetta the Bealian House has against me to show a feigned interest in my company and insult me like this.

“I’d like to know who pissed in their blood bag a week ago to make this House hate me so much,” I said quietly, “It’s beyond arrogant, it’s narcissistic. How much trouble would it cause to kill them all exactly?” I asked with a very curious look on my face, but before he could answer I intervened smiling, “I'm joking. Also.. For the thousandth time, my name is Monique.” I finished, and waited for him until we would walk in together. God, the look on their faces is something I can’t wait to see.

OOC: Okey dokey, but it will probably end there. I don't know what you want the negotiators to look like, or how you want them to act or say. So I'll leave that to you


IC:

Tristan envies Monique her ignorance, he really does. He knows that calling somebody ignorant is usually perceived as an insult to their intelligence and is usually not appropriate in polite conversation, but really it's just a word with a specific definition; that is, not knowing something. Calling somebody ignorant is not inherently insulting or condescending, it is merely a description of what they do or don't know....he, for example, is ignorant of how to knit, how to play American Football - it's not exactly something that has ever captured his interest - and how to create a Glamour. It's nothing to be ashamed of, really, and it's important to have an accurate understanding of what you know and what you don't...and Monique is ignorant of the intricacies of Vampire Politics and he sincerely wishes he was as well. There are days when it seriously makes his head hurt, and entire nights that he could be spending in his armchair reading a good book or playing one of the humans remarkably difficult 'video games' that he has had to spend with a rather dry history of one house or another in pursuit of not being swallowed up by the constant vying for power. He really does wish that he was one of those few Ordo Dracul who belong to no house, who just do their own bloody thing and don't really get bothered by anybody, and don't know about the ins and outs of House Politics...it gets boring, confusing and frustrating sometimes, and he has a feeling that if Monique knew what he knew about the whole sordid affair of backstabbing, underhanded deals and hidden street wars, she would desire ignorance as well. So. Not an insult to say she is ignorant of it. If he said it whilst sneering, then it would be an insult...tone is everything.

He shakes his head slowly. Best not to explain all that, however. She may take it the wrong way, and it would take more time and make their meeting even later....even though that would be an effective counter to the other parties blatant disrespect - they send their third tier negotiators, Tristan and Monique don't even bother showing up on time - he can see that Monique would really rather just get the whole affair over with, and he can't say he blames her. Of course, her rather morbid sense of humour has to make an appearance, and the corner of his mouth twitches into a slightly amused curl. He doesn't smile very often - it is unbecoming of a fine gentleman to give too much away - but this is his version of a grin. How much trouble indeed...well, in the short term? None. They have enough powerful individuals in this building to easily massacre every negotiator and guard House Bealian had sent, and then some....but in the long term, the consequences could be dire. But it would be very satisfying.

"House Bealian is a tiny house with a puffed-up sense of importance," he murmurs as he starts his walk towards the door, "which is usually the way of things. Whilst satisfying, killing them could prove inconvenient, unless we somehow made it look like somebody elses fault. Of course, that would only divert the war...something to consider for later, perhaps, if we need a little House War to cover something up." He shrugs lazily. He's actually engineered something like that before....it isn't difficult, if you choose the right two targets. Find somebody who doesn't like House Bealian and has a reason to want them gone, stage an assassination, pin it on them and then watch them fight each other to exhaustion. Classic tactic. But, not one for now; he falls silent as they reach the door, and he places a hand on the handle. "Let us be done with this farce," he mutters as he opens the door and strides inside. He looks at the collected negotiators with a mix of impassive disdain and superiority...and, well, it's not undeserved. They're middle management at best. He and Monique are the bloody CEO's. He pauses for a moment, then slowly sits down in the right-center chair on their side of the table, leaning back casually as he watches them dispassionately. He doesn't speak. Just....lounges there, his leg crossed over his knee and his right elbow on the armrest. Don't say anything, and make them nervous. Let them speak first, put them in a position of weakness....and then counterattack and seize control. He resists glancing at Monique. She'll know what to do.

Together, Shane and I walked along the alley path avoiding eye contact with anyone else that we passed. It was a fairly dodgy place and neither of us wanted any conflict. I wasn't sure where we were going, but I trusted him so I just followed along his footsteps. The ground began to raise up a hill slightly. I had never been this way before and I wondered if he was taking me out of the lower residential area. I knew that the upper levels would not be accepting of my species and my heart began to race. The only way for me to survive up there was to pretend I was pure wolf and not an animoid. However, he turned he corner into a side-street and I knew we weren't going to leave the area.

We made our way down a narrow flight of stairs beside a cracked building leading to a basement suit. Shane opened the door ahead of me.
"After you." He motioned inside. I hesitated and looked at him for a moment. This was obviously some sort of restaurant or cafe. I'm a canine. "Don't worry, it's safe. Paws and all." He gave me a small smile and I stepped through the door. The room was dimly lit but the atmosphere was much nicer than the tavern Shane had just been drinking at. It was busy; full of every underground species. I even spotted a black fox across the room and knew he was another animoid.
"Wow, I'm glad I'm not paying." I whispered so only Shane could hear me.
"When was the last time you saw tableclothes, hey?" He laughed. They were mostly ripped and stained, but at least they could afford to make an effort. He motioned for me to sit at the table against the wall and I moved towards it. Like a gentleman, he pulled my seat away from the table and I hopped onto it. I looked around the room again as he took his own seat.

"How kind of you." I said and he grinned at me and leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. "Still, you're looking pretty scruffy."
"You're not looking so great, yourself." He raised his eyebrows. "Still pretty though."
"Shut up." I couldn't help but break a smile. I knew he was just teasing me. He wasn't into 'my kind', and I don't just mean the paws.

A young lady came to our table and stood there, saying nothing. She had an expectant look on her face.
"Pint and your soup. And for the lady... Shane spoke.
"Water and also soup, thanks." The lady walked away looking irritated and made her way through a rusted door to the kitchens.
"Soup?"I questioned.
"Well, this is the slums. It's more like gruel, but it's better than eating lard off the streets"
"I didn't eat it!" I pouted. Shane laughed his hoarse laugh again.
"So I hear you went up to the hang with the rich kids. Anata no boifrurendo wa genki desuka?" I asked him. I wasn't sure how open he was about his current relationship. I had heard that it had caused slight trouble for him so I took the cautious route. I had always wanted to see what the upper residential area was like, but I could never try without a glamour, and I was too frightened. My only chance would be for someone to find me down here and bring me into their world.
"How's my boyfriend?" Sexy. So's the city." He responded. So he wasn't hiding.
"Would you take me there one day?" I asked him jokingly.
"If you're a good girl. He winked at me. I rolled my eyes. There was no way I was getting out of here.

The 'waitress' brought us our drinks and soup and I immediately began lapping it up. It was so good to eat something again.
"Woah, slow down, pup! Yukkuri yukkuri! I know it's been a while, but don't choke!"
"Hush, I'm hungry. And you shouldn't drink so much." I did, however, slow down my eating.
"And I'm thirsty." He took a gulp of his ale and set it on the table before picking up my spoon.
"Hey, you have your own!"
"It's not like you're going to use it."

We continued our meal talking about his time in the upper city and his relationship with his boyfriend. I didn't mention much about myself, as I had nothing to report. Thanks to him, I was no longer starving. Shane threw down some crumpled cash onto the table and I eyed it greedily. I need to find work desperately. Together, we left the small cafe and ascended the narrow stairs onto the main street.
"Arigato gozaimasu, it was so good to eat again!" I bowed my head.
"Hey, don't thank me. I can't stand around and watch my friends starve." I smiled at him and continued walking. It was busier here than before. People from the upper residential area were flooding into the underground, possibly to start their work days.
"So this job that you were attempting to snag from Ode," Shane asked. "Is that for food or shelter, too?"
"I can make do with the shelter I find." I replied. "But yes, it was for food and... something else. My mind flicked back to the glamour again.
"I won't pry then. But this means you're homeless, right?" I nodded. "Come back to my place this evening. You can rest your head for the night at least."
"Why are you being so nice to me? We all have to fight for ourselves down here."
"True as that may be, you're my friend, and it's just for one night. Otherwise I'd charge you rent. He laughed. I looked at him skeptically.
"Hey, I won't try anything, promise! I'm as gay as anything, me. You know that." He threw his hands up in the air like a surrender. I laughed.
Domo. Thanks. I'll be there tonight then. I have nothing to bring but myself. Thank you. Domo!"
"Enough with the thanking already!" He grinned. "I'll see you tonight, then." and he rounded the corner and I was left alone on the street once more.

Backs to us, they neglect to turn around to see our faces as we enter the room and close the door behind us. Silently locking itself, unknown to our unwelcome guests. We walk in steadily, and take our seats at the table. Their faces are still down at their papers, ignoring us. Their eyes haven’t shifted since I locked my sight on one of them, so they aren’t reading. Is this a tactic to specifically piss us off? Get us riled up from their arrogance, watch us snap and make the first ugly move.. Unlikely. Another quality they possess that makes this entire meeting an embarrassment – stupidity.

What I can tell of their faces however, there’s nothing there. Neutral, relaxed. They don’t appear anxious or over impressed with themselves about anything. I take a seat next to Tristian, him on my right with us in the two center chairs of our side of the table, and Andrew on my left. The other CO’s filled the remaining chairs, sitting patiently as they wait for someone to say something. Anything.

Finally, the man straight across from Tristian looks up and scans the lot of us. He is an ugly son of a bitch. His eyes slanted more so than most Ordo’s I’ve ever met – which mind you isn’t many, but still. Black hair slicked back that gave his head a very unflattering rounded shape. He tries to look shocked for whatever reason, but anyone with two working eyes can see he’s faking it. Why? I couldn’t handle the silence and time ticking by with nothing being done – so I decided to break it.

“Gentlemen, I-“ quickly I was interrupted by the man whom first looked up. The moment I began to speak the glaring beady little eyes of the rest jolted up. Stared into us like we had not been given permission to even breath let alone speak.
“Will Mr. Terren be joining us? Or does he plan on being late, more so than the rest of you?” And with that said, the tone had been set for the room. Chaos. Who’s going to break first... The bitter taste in my mouth was strong with the thought of even responding to them. No one in this city is that oblivious – my brother left long ago. Anyone who knew of him knows that. Anyone, even the blinded humans. He is trying very, very hard to pinch at my nerves and piss me off.
“Mr. Terren is no longer a part of this company.” I began, with the bitter taste in my mouth clearly visible on my face as I spoke. There was no point in hiding much now. “This has been so for several years now.” They smiled, one even decided to softly laugh like I was telling a joke.
“So, there is no one else is coming?” He sighed heavily, feigned again. As though this man is playing a character he rehearsed in a mirror. “Pardon the… confusion. But this is not what my associates and I were expecting. What with considering the circumstances of.. our generosity.”
Well, it’s decided. He dies first.
“Generosity?” I asked, oddly relaxed and without putting too much effort into having to stay that way.
“Yes, our generosity. Us being here today, and the extent of the kindness that goes with people like us doing business with people of.. your kind. Humans.” God, I both love and hate it when people call me that in his tone. I hate it because I'm far from human, but love it because I normally get to show them exactly how wrong they are. Normally.

OOC – Basically, just give us further reasons to hate these assholes. Insult us, disrespect us, etc. Whatever you’d like. So then shit can hit the fan – more so than it already has.

ooc- I'm sorry to interrupt the flow of the role play, but I can't yet send private messages yet. If possible, may I join the role play? Here's my bio.

OOC:

Whilst I would say the point about weapons is relatively redundant given the modern day setting (so he would likely be armed with a handgun, if anything (he is a Were, after all) ) that looks acceptable to me. I don't see anything that would be objectionable....anybody spot anything that I may have missed? :-)

Additionally, sorry I haven't posted yet. Taking an exam on Wednesday, which is taking all my attention. I should have a post up tomorrow (hopefully) but if you want to skip me, go ahead, I won't mind. :-)

ooc: Other than some typos, everything looks pretty alright to me.

Also, my opening's all written up. Just waiting for the clock to hit 11:30.

Ooc- Just waiting for my turn to roll back around before I post.
Also. How are we determining the time of day?

ooc: Murdoch and Kristie mentioned it's around 9:08AM at their meeting.

Ooc: I'm excited! I'd love you to join! It's Murdoch's decision overall and he's helped me SO MUCH with this roleplay I'm sure he will help you understand the details as well.

OOC - I think once our meeting is over, we might skip time ahead a bit? So Zalgo can join he party.

Ooc: I'm in a perfect position in my posts to time jump if we need to =)

Ooc - alright, well here's my first post. I don't think it'll be as long as some of the other posts, but I'm that'll change quickly once I get into the swing of things.

Ic- The streets of the Underground were fairly quiet in the morning. Of course the whole system was seemingly chaotic, but in comparison to the days these streets have seen, mornings were typically the calm before the storm. The place managed to run fine though, despite the violence you'd imagine in a place like this. I suppose the phrase "beggars can't be choosers" does apply here because as shitty as it can be down here, this is the only home some people have; you can't completely destroy it, right? Publicly there were a handful of disturbances at any given time, but those are the insignificant issues that the Underground sees. It's all the sneaky, devious, and deceitful tactics that is the real trouble down here and while those were much less common in the public eye, they were much more common in reality. That's where I come in.

I worked for the Underground Police Department, specifically the Response Unit of the PD. I don't have to concern myself with petty fights and outrageous accusations that the civilians of the Underground were so found of—although I do sometimes to kill some time. I usually only get called in when the "behind the scene" things happen. Its my job (along with a few others of the Unit) to keep the big incidents under wrap. A lot of the time its things like assassinations or turf wars in the Underground, but it can be smaller things like certain criminal activities like robberies, pending on the crime and size of it. Because of this though, my hours at work are often sporadic—called in when I'm needed—so I get a lot of time to get to know the people in the Underground. Pubs, shops, even the people with the black market. I don't go looking for trouble, but occasionally I can find something useful at the market and having connections (with both the authorities and the criminals) often comes out in my favour. Corruption isn't uncommon in the force but is always discipline when officers get out of control. There's a fine line between corrupt and a crook, and its often impossible to be one without the other. Nevertheless, I do everything I can to stay in the good books with the police and the black market and that's for nothing else but personally gain. I'll be the first to say I'm not perfect. All things considered, I'm fairly lucky with the force. It provides a healthy way for me to vent and makes it easier to control myself. That and the Fight Club down here.

Today began like every other morning though and I quickly found myself wondering the Goblin Market out of uniform, but with badge on hand (as I always did). By this point in the morning shops had opened up and people had begun their day. I walked with my head up but there was an air of irritation around me. I hated crowded areas and this Market filled up quickly. Despite my irritation I get by and people tend to avoid me anyway unless they need something. It's not that I'm angry with them, but I typically don't care for someone unless I know them, or I have to on a job. It was easier to live that way, which was fine with me because it seems to be working out great.
I stop in front of a stand in the Market which were selling trinkets and one caught my eye. It was a necklace, with a leather strap and a carving of a wolf howling out of bone. "How much?" I asked as I picked it up and looking down at the small man behind the stand.

He smiled widely. "Oh not much sir! Ten dollars. Best price you'll find down here. That's made of good, strong deer bone that is. Killed it myself. We use all the animal at this stand, yes sir we do!" It was over priced for something so small and simple, but it reminded me of someone, so my hand dug into my pocket. "Whatever you say chief," I say, giving a small grin. I tossed the money on the table as I walked away and pulled the necklace over my head. It was better off than most, so ten dollars, while over priced, didn't bother me if I enjoyed the merchandise.

ooc I'm in the same position as Jade. If need to, I can use the bus as a time lapse if the need arises.

IC:

The men, much like their appearances would suggest, are slimy, arrogant, self-important, puffed up little arseholes. Tristan can see that from the moment he enters the room, from the way they sit to the way they're dressed and the way that they are pointedly ignoring the two rather important faction leaders who just entered the room. Either they are amazingly stupid, or they are arrogant...he would go for option C; both. They are arrogant in the way they think that this school-level ploy will work on them, and stupid in that they agreed to come to a meeting where their sole aim was to insult. Normally, that wouldn't be so stupid - insulting meetings are quite frankly rather common in Vampire politics, and it's one of the best ways to offend somebody without actually starting a war most of the time - and would in fact be something to be applauded if they pulled it off gracefully....no, the stupid part is twofold; one, they use it on a Mage (and don't even bother fact checking to make sure that this girl is a human. She may be more human than most here, but a Mage is a few steps above human at least), and two, they do it so clumsily. The insults aren't subtle at all. You have to be polite and courteous, whilst still somehow making it obvious that you don't think much of them. Looking at them, not one of them could possibly be more than a hundred years old, at most...rookies, all of them. They don't know who they just stepped into a room with. Monique Terren, a powerful and experienced Mage, and Tristan of House Astereus, accomplished and experienced House Head. Amateurs. He'll show them how it's done.

He takes a slow puff on his pipe, then blows it out into the air slowly. The "negotiators" heads all swivel towards him as the smoke drifts across the table, dissipating in the air just before it reaches them....and resists the urge to smirk. They already received the message, if the looks of indignation on their faces are anything to go by; he could have blown the smoke right at them, if he had intended to. A very grave mark of disrespect...but since it didn't reach them, they would be hardpressed to make any kind of big deal out of it. "Our apologies," he says amicably. His voice is warm - it's always warm - but rather than the normal velvety warmth of a brand new, high-quality duvet, smooth and comforting and welcoming, this warmth is more like an oppressive sack shoved over your head. Still smooth and velvety, though; his voice is always smooth. He's just a smooth guy. "We did inform Master Bealian of who would be attending this negotiation representing our interests, but the message must have gone missing in transit." His eyes shine. Though he didn't say it, the implication is clear; they aren't important enough to be informed about these details....even if they knew or not, they can't answer that suggestion without admitting that they lied previously. He gives them a small twitch of his lips as a smile, but they just huff to themselves and turn back to Monique. He is perfectly content with that; he is here to observe and interject where necessary. He could have taken the insult one step further, of course, but he will leave it to them to escalate...and too many insults, no matter how subtle, will cause them to attempt to storm out of the room...if possible, they need to antagonise Bealian into beginning hostilities, so House Astereus and the Terren Family can accuse them honestly of bad faith. A knife edge he's walking, but he walks it rather well.

He allows the "human" comment to slide - they will find how wrong they are soon, and he has a feeling that Miss Terren would like to deal with that personally - but does allow himself a moment of small satisfaction. They see her as a human, so they likely already see him as beneath them. No need to give them any more reasons. He lifts an eyebrow, but that is it; allow them to believe that they are in control, and they will begin making mistakes. He is tempted to interrupt the man, but he carries on regardless and the chance for a cheap quip is lost. No matter. The rotund, greasy, ugly one in the centre speaks again. "However...our generosity can only extend so far. House Bealian has reviewed your request, and has found the terms....wanting. Not unexpected, given your kinds ignorance of our world," his eyes flick momentarily towards Tristan, "and the quality of your advisor." Oh. Ouch. He's so hurt. That would have been a decent sting, had he delivered it in middle school. So pathetic...you never say the insult out loud, you let them infer it. Rookie mistake; negotiators have been killed over words less derogatory to a House Head than "advisor," and he's put himself in a dangerous position. But he once again allows it to slide; the bigger the hole they dig themselves, the more justified whatever Monique is planning will seem to the rest of the world.

"Once more, my apologies," Tristan remarks, just as one of the lesser negotiators opens his mouth to speak. Tristan doesn't even look at him. He doesn't care what he looks like or how insulted he may feel. "My consultants assured us that such an offer would be agreeable to a House of your size....it appears that they were wrong. I will have to release them from my service as soon as I return home. Good help is so hard to find these days, wouldn't you agree?" He's looking straight at the fat man as he says this. The insult is two fold; first, he is suggesting that House Bealian is a tiny house (their offer was deliberately low to allow for haggle room, but suggesting that they could be generous terms? Well, that changes the meaning), and second he is implying that the fat man is not good help. Of course, he said neither out loud, and the offer to fire his employees over the 'mistake' covers the insult up rather nicely if they wanted to make a big deal out of it....but not enough that they don't see it in the first place. Oh, he forgot how fun it was insulting self important little twerps. He smiles again amicably.
The Fat Man sniffs derisively. "Quite." He obviously doesn't know how to respond, so he simply turns his shoulder towards Tristan, ignoring him completely. He does catch a few negotiators glaring at him, though. Good. Tristan resists glancing at Monique. He may have been a bit too forward with the insults, but he is tiring of this meeting rapidly. He wonders what she has planned...but he knows that he will probably enjoy it, if it involves getting back at these upstarts. He smiles to himself softly.



OOC: I think that yes, we should probably time skip ASAP, and Faith, it's roughly ten past nine in the morning.
Burn It: Not sure how the fat man was characterised. *shrug*. It's been a long day, so I'm not the best at coming up with dialogue. :-/ Sorry.[/color]

OOC: Okay, as I didn't really have a plan of what to do next (like I said, perfect time for me to time-jump), I'm going to start it if that's okay with everyone? so it's about 11:30am in this post, give or take a few minutes depending on what Zalgo's character needs. If this doesn't work, let me know =)

IC:

The breakfast that Shane had bought for me had sustained me for the past few hours, and as I was so used to experiencing days of hunger I knew that it would keep me satisfied until that evening when I was to meet with him again. I looked forward to the company, and I rarely got to see him these days as he spent most of his time in the upper city. Perhaps I was biased, but I feel that he belongs more with us in the Underground, judging by his rough appearance, acceptance of our species, and his small quirks that I imagine would be frowned upon up there. His excessive drinking, for example. I was happy to have this one friend, even if I didn't see him very often. I had lost all other friends and family in the move from Hatsukaichi. We all became separated in a great rush. Although no longer a whelp, I was a young pup at the time and I don't remember being so scared in my life! I thought I had lost everyone, until I ran into Shane. I barely knew who he was in the pack. I don't remember ever speaking to him before, but he was a familiar face and I knew that I was no longer lost. He had adjusted to the situation much faster than I had, his English was also better than mine at the time, and if it wasn't for him, I'd have given up on this life long before now.

I wasn't sure where I was wondering to; my legs were moving without any thought. I had always tried to avoid the upper residential area, and I didn't even know how to get to the Overworld. This was my place down here. I longed to escape, but knew I never could, a dirty wolf like me. Back in Japan, our pack was wild, but we lived close enough to the city if we needed anything. For food, we usually hunted, and we used the surrounding nature to our advantage. That was our home. But here, there were no lush trees to hide in. I was forced to live a human life while all humans rejected me. But I made do. Just. This way of life wasn't living, but it was surviving and that was good enough for me.

I had found my way to the edge of the market area. The Goblin Market. It was packed full of shoppers, browsers, sellers, and traders. But I had nothing to trade an no money to buy with. In the past, I had dealt with the black market runners in secret. Sure, it was illegal, but I was living in such poverty that I had no choice. My way of living should be illegal. I had no business here, and even if I wanted to I couldn't obtain anything from the stalls. There was, however, one thought that flicked through my mind, preventing me from leaving. Could this place possibly sell Glamours? I didn't even know what they looked like, but it was worth it to take a look, right?

The bus was quiet for a while. When I arrived at my seat, there was only one person that had been on the bus before the group I had gotten on with had arrived. I thought that I might be able to get to where I was going sooner than expected, for the first few stops, there were no people at the stops or exiting the bus, so the driver stopped only momentarily before continuing on his route. The next ten stops, however, consisted of dozens of people getting on and off the bus. Some would stay for a few stops and retreat back into the bustling city for coffee or work; others would only take the bus a stop before getting off. There was only one other that stayed on longer than a few stops, and it seemed that they realized the same about me. He had been the man that had been the veteran bus-rider from before. His hair was of salt and pepper, but it leaned more towards salt. His shoulders sagged with years of hard work and from the angle I sat; I could see an old scar that ran down the side of his cheek. Of course, there was no conversation back and forth between the two of us, but the old gentlemen glanced back at every stop it seemed to see if I would be getting off the bus. His eyes were a frosty blue and he seemed to always be smiling, as if his age had taught me something that I would learn later. It wasn’t until we reached the stop at Washington that the man stood, turned toward me, gave me a knowing nod and turned to leave the bus, the smile never leaving his face. I watched him leave, pressing my head to the window of the bus until he escaped down an alleyway and was out of sight.
It was only then that I pulled my eyes away from the world outside of the bus. It was interesting how distracted I could get. I looked up at the small television on above the bus driver. The next stop was my stop. I smiled quietly to myself as I gripped the leather strap in my hand. It wouldn’t be long before I knew that I would be able to walk down the street and get into this place that I was supposed to have found a long time ago.

I felt the bus lurch to a stop, and the sound of metal rubbing on metal brought me out of my thoughts before I was really able to think about the things that made me feel like I had failed. Those weren’t the feelings I needed right now. I needed to get where I was going. I looked up, glanced out the window for a moment, and then stood. I could see the driver staring at me through the rear-view mirror, waiting for me to get my things and get off. As I step off the bus a rush of cool air pushes past me off of the nearby body of water. I grin; the sun had not warmed the city and the cool of night kept everything comfortable. It takes no time for the bus to escape down the road, leaving only me and the people rushing to unknown destinations. Soon I press myself within the group of people, melding around and pushing past obstacles like a school of fish. They break away, few at a time, until there are fewer and fewer of us left. There was a small park next to the water. This is where I had been directed to go: Underneath the bridge in the park on East Second. It was a nice park, with a great view of the water and nice trails that led through thick trees. I followed one trail quietly, tugging on the strap anxiously. In some ways, I was ready to find this new world and enjoy what could possibly be my escape from the worries of being found out, but in other ways, I was afraid that this wasn’t what I really wanted.

I felt my teeth clench as I stopped. The stone beneath my feet changed and as I looked down, I knew I had found the bridge that I had been searching for. If there were others, I knew that they could be sought out later, but for now, I was ready to get this part over with. I walked backwards on the bridge, making my way to the grass. I made my way down the hill to the small tributaries edge and the bottom of the bridge.

“No trolls. A good sign” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the stupid joke. I looked at the bridge, reached out, and touched the smooth stone, before retracting my hand and looking around. There was no one in sight, but that didn’t matter right now. I had no idea what I was looking for or doing. I looked down as I felt the warmth of something on my chest. I smiled quietly, pulling the locket into my hand. Maybe this was the key to my entrance. My father had indeed left it for me. I took a step toward the bridge, holding up the small heart in my hand. The purple stone began to dimly glow, but soon, the glow disappeared and there was nothing. I frowned, taking one more step to the bridge. The stone kept dim and the warmth of the metal was gone. “What am I supposed to do?” I looked up at the bridge, reaching a moment, reaching a hand out. Once again, the smooth stone cooled my fingertips. Moments later, the sound of feet above me made me withdraw my hand and look up.

There was a pause and I turned, leaning against the rock. Above me, the sound of footsteps could still be heard. I rolled my eyes, looking toward the clear water ahead of me. Maybe this wasn’t the right place… Then why did the locket glow? I looked back down at the metal in my hands. The sound of feet were now gone. Before I know what’s happening, there is no longer a wall behind me, and I fall backwards, into the dim light of an unknown, but loud place.

ooc- Because I wasn't sure if we were skipping time or not, I wrote my post in a way that either could skip time or doesn't have to skip, depending on what is determined.

Zalgo’s eyes slowly opened as he woke up to a pounding headache. How long had he been out last night, three, four in the morning? Hard to tell from his hangover. What time was it now? Hell, what day is it? Tuesday? No, wait, that was yesterday, right? That’d make today Wednesday, then, and, upon inspection of the alarm clock that only seemed to gather dust next to his bed, it was around 11:30 AM. Too bright out, and if he was right about the day, Siesta’d be starting soon anyway, so no real reason to get out of bed. It seemed logical to Zalgo’s hungover mind, but he hated listening to his logical side. Something he picked up from an old friend.

After debating with his hangover, Zalgo finally sat up, groaning and stretching his back. Alright, morning recap. Played a show at the Jaded Belladonna, got drunk as hell for Sal’s birthday, probably took a cab here if Judith Marie didn’t drive me, now it’s maybe Wednesday and I’m hungover, he thought to himself. Perfect start to a potentially shitty day.

Zalgo got out of bed, heading directly to his barely-can-be-called-a-kitchen-since-all-it-is-is-a-minifridge-and-a-sink to make himself breakfast. Or, well, what would have to pass for breakfast, anyway. Macaroni and cheese can sit out for two days and still be good, right? He didn’t care, he was hungry and hungover and he just wanted to eat. After four large forkfuls of the stuff, he was satisfied enough to put it back where he found it on the counter next to the sink, heading over to the minifridge to grab a little hair of the dog to alleviate his headache. He picked out a quarter-full bottle of rum and took a big gulp from it, shaking his head as it tickled and burned his throat. He loved and hated that feeling at the same time. A sort of masochism, according to Reggie. He put the bottle back and closed the minifridge, reading over a few scraps of paper taped to it. Mostly notes from days past, quotes Judith Marie put up to keep Zalgo’s mind busy whenever he opened the fridge. “Find what you love and let it destroy you.”, “Never say goodbye. If you don’t say goodbye, then you aren’t really gone. You just aren’t here right now.”, “ If you have to live the rest of your life in a memory, you might as well make it a good one.”, “Everyone is entitled to their own sorrow, for the heart has no metrics or form of measure, and all of it is irreplaceable.”, sentimental crap like that. It usually worked, keeping him from drowning himself in alcohol every night. Last night was special, though. Last night was Sal’s birthday. Last night was a celebration.

After going to the bathroom and getting dressed, Zalgo grabbed his notebook, a green pen, a pack of cigarettes, and a light grey lighter, put a pair of sunglasses over his eyes, placed the cigarettes and the lighter in his front left pants pocket, the notebook and pen in his right jacket pocket, slung his bag over his shoulder, and left the apartment at approximately 11:50AM, locking up with one of the 6 keys he kept on him at all times. He found himself in the Goblin Market’s street, more or less clear since it was 10 minutes to siesta. Lucky for him. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle much interaction with others at the moment. He began walking down the street, whistling to himself as he walks.


OOC: So, way I see it, Alex and Murdoch could continue their meeting until such a time as they decide it's over, then time skip to when the rest of us are if that'll work. It might be confusing with time-fuckery, but I don't wanna end their meeting early on our accounts.

Ooc: Hey Z, sorry dude, but no outside links.

OOC:

We should probably wait for Burn It before making a decision on how to proceed with the timeskip. Burn It, check C-Box for our discussion. :-) We'll go with whatever is easiest for most of us, and that includes you

Also, something I've been noticing cropping up a lot recently: we should probably keep OOC talk out of the IC thread. Keep everything here as IC as possible, and keep the OOC stuff to PM's or C-Box if possible. Just to avoid cluttering this up with off-topic chatter. Sometimes a footnote will be required or the easiest way of communicating something, and that's fine....I just think we want to keep OOC-only posts to a minimum. :-) We do, after all, have the brainstorming thread for that

I loved sitting here listening to their cold war going on, the remarks going back and forth as these people dug themselves a deeper and deeper grave. A grave to which they have become that much closer to. I might not know exactly what theyre doing or why – I'm not a vampire – but whatever it is, I can understand why my ‘kind’ don’t do it. No one I know would have the patience for it, except Andrew. He has the patience for anything; he’d have to in order to put up with me. I'm over this meeting, I'm over being professional, I'm over being civil. All of it, done. I don’t care anymore. I’ll suffer the consequences of what is about to happen, which I'm sure they’ll be some. If not from the Bealian family, then from Tristian or Andrew if they disagree with the ‘fuck it’ attitude.

I stood up, excited and smiling to show it. I stared at the men as though I wanted to hug them. “Well. I doubt I'm the only one in this room who isn’t interested in spending another minute in this room with half a dozen narcissistic assholes.” They didn’t look as stunned as I had expect. A little taken back, but ultimately not bothered by the out right insults. I made sure to keep the smile on my face and not lose eye contact with them, as well holding one hand with the other behind my back. “Narcissistic assholes that, very carelessly tosses around that one word that.. I’ve never really been able to make sense of – Human.”

I walked around the table towards the window looking out at the city streets. The thousands of people still walking to work, or those carrying the shopping bags spending thousands of dollars. Blind, unknowing civilians of the human world going about their meaningless days. “Vulnerable, fragile, naïve, virtually powerless without their poor excuse for armies. Oddly easy to kill. They live no greater purpose than to wake up each morning, go to work, make money, go home, sleep. Maybe have a few kids. Their hormones have this weird control over them that makes them fuck anything that moves…” I looked back at the room, “But I'm going off track.” I walked back over to the table slowly, my heels clicking loudly against the tiled floor. I stood at the head and leaned forward against it, my hands on either ends. “You gentlemen, when you refer to me as human.. This is what you imply I am, so this is what you see me as for some strange reason....” I paused, and looked over to finally acknowledge the death glare I was getting from Andrew the entire time.

I knew what he was doing. The almost cage I could feel around myself happening now was being of him – he was worried. Worried I’d torch the room or drown them with the water in their drinking glasses. Something stupid and along those lines. So he does this.. Whatever he’s doing, which lets him know what I'm about to do before I do it. If he can, he’ll even try to stop me – which I hate to admit he’s had success with in the past. He may look like a shy little office man who gives too much of a damn about little things, but he’s far from it. If people want to pick someone in this room to be afraid of, it’s not me.

“And THAT gentlemen, was your very biggest mistake. If you walked into this room today thinking that you were in a meeting with people equivalent to ‘humans’, than you’re even stupider than I originally thought. A human can’t do any of the things I want to do, and am fully capable of doing, to little blood sucking rats like you. Rats that forget whose building they’re sitting in, whose fucking Empire they were so mistakenly welcomed into.” Ah, I got a bit too Hollywood on that last part. Oh well. But finally; a reaction. Oh they were pissed. I might have even ‘offended’ one of them. The fat man stood up, probably about to shout something at me or say something just as equally as irrelevant.