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Post by CHRISTOFF STARK on Jul 12, 2015 12:37:46 GMT
we could be immortals
►you will remember me for centuries◄
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Risk fidgeted with his black bandana that was wrapped around his nose, mouth and chin. It was certainly easier to talk with it on, rather then the muffled sound he usually heard when he donned his full mask. But it was still awkward to wear. And the new ability to see very clearly was very awkward on him. Within the last week he'd tripped almost 100 times just over his own feet. His perception and perspective was bad, but was getting better as time went on. He glanced back to where his friend Decard, and that little strange nuisance sat on a nearby bench. It had been a strange experience meeting the two of them, Decard again after a couple months apparently. How the relationship between the two had happened was a mystery to him as they wouldn't tell him, but he was growing more and more interested as he watched. The boy never spoke, and according to Decard he didn't even speak english. But it was quite obvious that Decard was the one who took care of the boy, and was even the one in charge. How had he gotten down into the Labyrinth in the first place. Risk sighed to himself and tugged his red hood over his head as he waited. It had been a week and a half since he'd finally been dubbed healed from his surgery and any possible illnesses that might effect Vincent's health. And a week since he'd started his journey to pick up his friend. Nervously he shifted his bandana again. He was only supposed to bring back Decard. But that was because he remembered there only being Decard. This boy had come later, and it was quite obvious from the moment that Risk mentioned leaving the maze that Decard wouldn't leave without the boy. One of the biggest problems was that he couldn't read the boy. His eyes, so full of blank curiosity and yet no emotion could be established what-so-ever. He tried leaning back without the use of his sight, but Kyllian never spoke a word and was always very quite and still, standing next to Decard just staring at Risk himself. He cursed under his breath and he shifted positions. This was going to be a long meeting. Even if it was only for three minutes. It was a good thing though that he was able to get the two of them cleaned up and in some nicer clothes before introducing them to his Boss. "Alright Risk, Mr Kammerer said you were welcome to see him now." said the new personal secretary. This one blond with the name Cassie. Risk shifted in his position once more before motioning for Kyllian and Decard to follow him down the hall and to Vincent's own door. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. He knocked, shifting his uncomfortable Bandana once more as he waited. |
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| They look like monsters to you? |
(inactive) | (Junior Member)
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Post by Vincent Kammerer on Jul 14, 2015 7:38:43 GMT
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Vincent shuffled through the papers on his desk, brows knit in concentration. He was a bit behind in his paperwork. He’d been too caught up in other matters of business as of late. So this particular area suffered. In an attempt to get it done quickly, the information broker made an attempt to multitask. This just ended up making the situation a tad worse. Not only was he behind, he was now disorganized.
It was frustrating, so naturally when the man’s office phone chirped at him, he groaned rather loudly and dramatically. Not wanting to pick it up at all. He wasn't sure he wanted to deal with anything else. Not until he had his own miserable paperwork mess dealt with.
After a few minutes he caved and answered the call. Trying his best not to snap at the new secretary. After all, he liked this one. She had more than proved herself since being hired. His entire mood seemed to lighten up at the news. So Risk was back from his little mission? Wonderful! Vincent had been half worried he’d try to run away instead. But with this news all those worries were replaced with him feeling rather impressed. It didn’t even hit the man that she said three people.
The violet haired agreed to having them sent in. He pulled open one of the larger drawers in his desk, scooped up most of the papers and dropped them haphazardly into the drawer. He’d regret it later, but right now, right now he needed a clean slate. Vincent kicked the drawer shut before moving to fix his hair. No need for Risk and his friends to see him all frazzled.
“Come in.”
He called out, placing his elbows on his now perfectly clear desk and rested his chin on his hands. Watching the door in anticipation and curiosity. Hopefully his investment in this little adventure, and Risk himself was going to pay off. In some way. A nice way.
| | | | | | BY EDWARD OF GS |
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| i thought i had an answer once... but your random ways swept me along |
(inactive) | (New Member)
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Post by decard on Jul 25, 2015 9:35:34 GMT
 ▼ A few days. Only a few days since Chris had found them.
Decard walked in a haze of relief and bewilderment. The time spent in the Labyrinth stood out clear and sharp in his mind: it was this world that seemed like a dream. Some surreal myth: a picture from the margin of some old manuscript. When Decard heard how long he had been locked away, it was like a stab to the chest. Century. The word tasted cold and bitter in his mouth. Over a hundred years. Gone. His parents were dead. The forge long cold and silent. The world had changed, and left Decard far behind.
It was strange: Decard felt uncomfortable without his prison clothes. His new shirt scratched on the back of his neck. This benefactor, Chris's new boss, couldn't be approached in those old clothes. Somehow, the stiffness of his shirt amplified Decards' nervousness as they approached the massive doors of Vincents' office, one door taller than the other and crooked at the hinge.
He missed the cave. The gorge. One sole, beautiful place in that hellish prison world. There was a kind of order in the prison: Decard knew his place in it. Knew how to survive better than most. Now he had to learn a whole new set of rules to survive. Back in the prison, Decard had longed to be free: free to return home, or freed through death. Now the place he hoped to see again was gone: the only home he had lay back in prison. Walking through plush halls, Decard glanced at Kyllian and his gaze grew less solemn. No. The free air still tasted sweet, and here, Kyllian was safer than he had been in prison. One could only hope.
Decard sat with his forearms on his knees, waiting. This room was rich, gilded. Illuminated volumes lined darkwood shelves behind cut panes of glass. Little crooked cupboards full of china cups with spiders'-leg handles lined the walls. they must never touch them: look at how polished they were. even the girl - what was the word... secretary? - looked like she was made of china.
despite glittering porcelain, warm lights, and walls smooth as silk, something felt wrong. off. decard wasn't sure what it was, but he felt uneasy. maybe it was the little shadows gathering in the ceiling corners like soot.
Chris's new master must be a man of wealth and high standing, such a one as decard and his father had knelt before long ago, presenting some dueling blade or fine smith-work. Glancing at his friend, Decard could see that he was nervous. why? what kind of man was this Vincent? Withdrawing further into himself, decard pulled his new scarf over his mouth and pulled his shoulders in. at least they were out. chris. His poor riddle of a friend. he had brought them out, brought them here. He could trust Chris.
Finally, the girl told them to follow, and led the way to Vincent's office.
The door was made of heavy, polished mahogany and set deep in the wall. Pale gold spider-webbed the surface. Decard put one hand on Kyllians' shoulder as Chris knocked. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Come in."
The door swung inward without sound. Decard kept his hand on the boys' shoulder and stepped inside, eyes downcast. It took him a minute to look up and examine the man before him. Vincent was tall, with smooth skin. Violet hair. Fingers long, spidery, and delicate. There was something almost skeletal in his appearance: his cheeks were almost hollow, body too slender, eyes a little to wide. Eyes like blood red velvet. Even bent over with his chin in his hands, Vincent carried an air of sophistication. Confidence. Decard watched him with a blank, neutral expression. So. This was the new aristocracy.
▲ MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW |
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Post by CHRISTOFF STARK on Jul 25, 2015 11:26:13 GMT
we could be immortals
►you will remember me for centuries◄
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"Come in." Called Vincent's voice. Risk took a deep breath and sent a reassuring smile over to his friend... who he could finally actually see, which was weird and a bit awkward. But it was good. He took hold of the handle and opened the door at a calm pace and stepped aside letting both Decard and Kyllian walk through the door first. He noticed how Decard placed his hand on the boy's shoulder and he welcomed it with a small nod. Once they were both inside the boy had taken his own arm and wrapped it around Decard's as if he were nervous, but the far off gaze the boy held gave nothing away. Thats what made Risk so nervous. Before Vincent could say or do anything, he shut the door behind them and walked swiftly to their sides gesturing toward each of them as he introduced them. "This is my friend Decard. And this is his charge Kyllian. Decard," He motioned to his boss respectfully. "This is Vincent Kammerer. My Boss. He's the one who so graciously got me back into the maze so that I could get you out." Then he turned back to Vincent swiftly but calmly. "Before anything else happens I want to point out that the mission was a success. However, the addition of the young boy Kyllian was not expected, although due to his age it would have been... foolish for me to have left him in the tunnels of the Labyrinth on his own."The boy himself was studying the room, caring little for the words that were being spoken. Then his eyes landed on the clear glass tank that sat on Vincent's desk. His dark eyes widened slightly and he whispered. "Shinzō..." And tugged on Decard's scarf with the hand that wasn't firmly wrapped around Decard's arm. |
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| They look like monsters to you? |
(inactive) | (Junior Member)
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Post by Vincent Kammerer on Jul 28, 2015 21:57:17 GMT
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Vincent looked somewhat confused at first. There was supposed to be just Risk and his friend, but from the looks of it there was a spare. That isn’t what they agreed on. I only have the room for one… He looked over both Decard and Kyllian, red eyes narrowed. He didn’t seem angry, but he obviously wasn’t impressed by what he saw. His smile also faded a bit.
The violet haired man stayed rather quiet, even after listening to what Chris had to say on the matter. . His head still resting on his pampered hands. So the child was the spare. It was only logical to save him as well. So Vincent couldn’t really call him out on it. At least. He wasn’t going to in front of them. He had to remember that not everyone was as morally gray as he himself was.
Vincent cleared his throat before speaking, his attention moving onto Risk.
“Well well well… I suppose an extra couldn’t have been helped under those circumstances…”
He let out a small sigh, sitting up straight in his chair. You don’t realize how lucky you are. If you hadn’t brought a child in here you wouldn’t be standing…Vincent clenched his jaw and motioned for the lot of them to step forward. Farther into the warmly lit office, and closer to his desk. He wanted to see both Decard and Kyllian more closely. They didn’t need to stay back there by the door.
“Other than Kyllian, are there any more surprises I should know about? Also, Risk, once our guests are all settled, you and me are going to discuss future missions.”
He said rather sternly. Vincent could feel a rather familiar headache coming on. Extra people, spilled coffee, there better not be anything else or I might die of the stress…
“And please, Decard, Kyllian, make yourselves at home~.”
When talking to the newcomers, his voice was calmer and softer than with Risk. They weren’t at fault here for anything. They were simply. There. And the kid. Vincent couldn’t be mad at him for something he had no control over. It was nice to know as well, that Risk seemed to have similar moral fiber to Noah. What with not being able to leave someone to die.
| | | | | | BY EDWARD OF GS |
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