William Gruff took a long drag on his cigarette as he stared up at the vigilante headquarters; he probably wasn't allowed to smoke inside so he took the time he had left to get a nicotine fix that would at least last him a while. The building was about as impressive as a headquarters could be nowadays. Gorgeous architecture, bright and shiny windows, immaculately swept streets. William wondered if it was all just for show, though. If they were recruiting random blue collar workers like him, then they couldn't be in the best of straights. The letter they sent him was pretty vague, something about needing his power, but they promised food, a bed, and a steady job, which was better than what he had back at home. Hell, the people even spoke the same language in this country... more or less. He took one last drag on the cigarette, tossed the butt on the no longer immaculate streets, and pushed open the doors to humanity's last stronghold.
William was surprised by how lax the security was here. No metal detectors, no officers standing guard, not even a secretary droning on about signing in. He'd been to middle schools that were locked up more tightly than this place. Sure, the lighting and the view was lovely, but for a military facility it was kind of depressing. Where was the grit? Where was the surly old general smoking a Cuban cigar? Where was the veteran amputee telling him he had no idea what he was in for? Instead, all he found was a crudely drawn arrow defiling the pristine marble, though he was sure the cleaning crew would have no problem fixing that; they seemed to be the hardest working people in the building from what he saw. "Guess that's for me," William mumbled, following the arrow to the expensive looking door and entering what appeared to be a waiting room.
It looked like he was the first one here; there wasn't even anyone there to tell him if he was in the right place or not. Oh well, if he wasn't supposed to be here, he was sure some office clerk would come in shortly and prattle on about restricted areas or some such nonsense. He checked his watch. Still some time left, but not really enough to go out and have another smoke. With a sigh, he took a seat in one of the more comfortable looking chairs, put his feet up on the small table in front of him, and began thumbing through an asinine magazine about celebrity gossip. It's not like it was interesting -- at all -- but he had a feeling it was the the most entertaining reading material this place had. If only the decorator had equipped the room with an ash tray...
William was surprised by how lax the security was here. No metal detectors, no officers standing guard, not even a secretary droning on about signing in. He'd been to middle schools that were locked up more tightly than this place. Sure, the lighting and the view was lovely, but for a military facility it was kind of depressing. Where was the grit? Where was the surly old general smoking a Cuban cigar? Where was the veteran amputee telling him he had no idea what he was in for? Instead, all he found was a crudely drawn arrow defiling the pristine marble, though he was sure the cleaning crew would have no problem fixing that; they seemed to be the hardest working people in the building from what he saw. "Guess that's for me," William mumbled, following the arrow to the expensive looking door and entering what appeared to be a waiting room.
It looked like he was the first one here; there wasn't even anyone there to tell him if he was in the right place or not. Oh well, if he wasn't supposed to be here, he was sure some office clerk would come in shortly and prattle on about restricted areas or some such nonsense. He checked his watch. Still some time left, but not really enough to go out and have another smoke. With a sigh, he took a seat in one of the more comfortable looking chairs, put his feet up on the small table in front of him, and began thumbing through an asinine magazine about celebrity gossip. It's not like it was interesting -- at all -- but he had a feeling it was the the most entertaining reading material this place had. If only the decorator had equipped the room with an ash tray...
8:10
Aleksy Grumbled, Despite her Sunglasses the morning sun still shined bright enough to make her squint.
"9am...Why does the world think because the sun rises we should do it at about the same time?"
Finally turning down a street that doesn't have mr.sun smiling at her in the face she is able to notice the buildings about and there rather, at least in her opinion, archaic designs. She foolishly brushes the bangs from her face, just for them to mockingly resume their position. As if custom she rolled her eyes at it, leading her to see a bakery.....which reminded her she had to forgo a meal to make the flight...In which she violently ejected the contents of her stomach into a small bag. And That Cherry treat with icing and what looks to be a complimentary milk. The little Miracles...
.....
....
.....
15 minutes later she emerges smiling. At least now she didn't need to hope they had a snack machine! She gave a silent thank you to her hair for leading her to a meal! She looks down at her watch....8:10?! Times like this make her wish she had a phone. (But that needing a home address thing, and pay as you go, High way robbery! ) She grabs a random passerby by his shoulders!
"The time! NOW!"
Most men, would probably have been less than helpful. But Alesky, Standing at 6'3 Dressed in a Pantsuit, complete with red tie and aviator sunglasses....The man struggles to get time from his watch.
"Ei-eight forty!"
Doing an about face, Alesky begins Sprinting to the location. Hoping the directions she had been told would be spot on! Most would look at the woman sprinting down the streets as a lunatic, jumping carts, juking slower pedestrians, going as far as to run across an active intersection. Arriving at her destination, Looking much more her typical self....The jacket lost, her hair disheveled and the tie and shirt hang from her sweat slicked self....a 3 minute mile...
Letting herself catch her breath, she looks at this Keep! Seriously is this really a civil service?! The budget must be huge! That or this is built on an Indian burial ground, but considering the London part.....She was pretty sure the natives did cremation. People starving in the world and they have a gaudy building like this. Her feelings of irritation on grew bigger as she stepped inside, marble and ornate furnishings, Imagery is important, but this is like the Vatican!
"whatever."
Followed by a eye roll, that showed her the arrow? ARE YOU KIDDING ME! She smiled at the irony of the little doodle, looks like the budget was killed on the granite counter-tops! Following it she steps into a room where some kid is already waiting. Shes not quick to judge but he didn't have the air of, =Heres what is going on= about him. But that Sofa! It did, it said clearly,
"Come and place your rump upon me!"
She smirked once more, before telling the couch. "Don't mind if I do!"
She plopped down on it, with enough force to make it tilt, and slam back down. As much as she complained about the money spent here, a good couch.....NO DOLLAR IS TO MUCH! Looking about from the couch revealed....nothing, aside from how uncomfortable those dress shoes where....When did the heals break off? "Tch" escaped her face before she turned to extend across the couch, letting her head and feet hand from it. Rather childish honestly, but all she has done the last 12 HOURS is wait, wait and wait some more! Its her own fault for being early but.....
"DAMNNNNNNNIIIIIITTTTTTT!!!!!!!"
Aleksy Grumbled, Despite her Sunglasses the morning sun still shined bright enough to make her squint.
"9am...Why does the world think because the sun rises we should do it at about the same time?"
Finally turning down a street that doesn't have mr.sun smiling at her in the face she is able to notice the buildings about and there rather, at least in her opinion, archaic designs. She foolishly brushes the bangs from her face, just for them to mockingly resume their position. As if custom she rolled her eyes at it, leading her to see a bakery.....which reminded her she had to forgo a meal to make the flight...In which she violently ejected the contents of her stomach into a small bag. And That Cherry treat with icing and what looks to be a complimentary milk. The little Miracles...
.....
....
.....
15 minutes later she emerges smiling. At least now she didn't need to hope they had a snack machine! She gave a silent thank you to her hair for leading her to a meal! She looks down at her watch....8:10?! Times like this make her wish she had a phone. (But that needing a home address thing, and pay as you go, High way robbery! ) She grabs a random passerby by his shoulders!
"The time! NOW!"
Most men, would probably have been less than helpful. But Alesky, Standing at 6'3 Dressed in a Pantsuit, complete with red tie and aviator sunglasses....The man struggles to get time from his watch.
"Ei-eight forty!"
Doing an about face, Alesky begins Sprinting to the location. Hoping the directions she had been told would be spot on! Most would look at the woman sprinting down the streets as a lunatic, jumping carts, juking slower pedestrians, going as far as to run across an active intersection. Arriving at her destination, Looking much more her typical self....The jacket lost, her hair disheveled and the tie and shirt hang from her sweat slicked self....a 3 minute mile...
Letting herself catch her breath, she looks at this Keep! Seriously is this really a civil service?! The budget must be huge! That or this is built on an Indian burial ground, but considering the London part.....She was pretty sure the natives did cremation. People starving in the world and they have a gaudy building like this. Her feelings of irritation on grew bigger as she stepped inside, marble and ornate furnishings, Imagery is important, but this is like the Vatican!
"whatever."
Followed by a eye roll, that showed her the arrow? ARE YOU KIDDING ME! She smiled at the irony of the little doodle, looks like the budget was killed on the granite counter-tops! Following it she steps into a room where some kid is already waiting. Shes not quick to judge but he didn't have the air of, =Heres what is going on= about him. But that Sofa! It did, it said clearly,
"Come and place your rump upon me!"
She smirked once more, before telling the couch. "Don't mind if I do!"
She plopped down on it, with enough force to make it tilt, and slam back down. As much as she complained about the money spent here, a good couch.....NO DOLLAR IS TO MUCH! Looking about from the couch revealed....nothing, aside from how uncomfortable those dress shoes where....When did the heals break off? "Tch" escaped her face before she turned to extend across the couch, letting her head and feet hand from it. Rather childish honestly, but all she has done the last 12 HOURS is wait, wait and wait some more! Its her own fault for being early but.....
"DAMNNNNNNNIIIIIITTTTTTT!!!!!!!"
Sheila stared at the crumpled piece of paper in her hands, double checking the address. The building was large. Fancy. Plenty of marble and brass. A fountain. It practically screamed money and prestige.
She almost turned around.
Something seemed absurd, however, about working in a sandwich shop during the apocalypse. And she had gotten up at 6:15am to be sure to make it here on time. It was a good thing she had, too - she'd gotten fairly lost on her way here (and she refused to check her phone for obvious reasons). As of now, she had about fifteen minutes before 9:00.
So she walked through the courtyard, and entered the main hall. It was like stepping into another city. People were rushing from one place to another, carrying things, talking to other people, drinking things, and just generally being important. Sheila felt a sudden crazy need to look busy, before somebody asked what she was doing here. But it was just an urge. There wasn't a point to looking busy when you weren't.
Someone was walking toward her. Sheila took a breath, picked a direction, and walked forward. As she cleared a row of ornate columns that stretched up to the ceiling, she saw a blue arrow. That was what she was looking for. Halfway to the stairs, she abruptly turned to the set of wooden doors eclipsed by the entrance hall. They slammed open - she was never this nervous, what was with her today? Saving face, Sheila walked to a random unoccupied seat, head held high, trying to act confident. When she sat down, she had a chance to actually see who was in the room.
There was a rough-looking guy with black hair, reading - bizzarely - a celebrity gossip magazine. Another girl was stretched out across a couch. It looked like she was a little rumpled. Obviously she'd been up all night with important Vigil business. It looked like the boy had been up for a while too - he had that rough look about him.
Across the room from her seat, sitting on a table as out of place as she felt, was an old issue of Hunting. Defiantly, Sheila grabbed a book at random: An Illustrated Genealogy of the Royal Family. Not exactly what she'd been hoping for. But she read it anyway - that seemed to be what everyone else was doing. And she didn't want to screw up her first day. These people were going to fix her phone, hopefully. Or her. And she'd be happy to do whatever it was they needed in exchange. Maybe they needed a cashier somewhere.
She almost turned around.
Something seemed absurd, however, about working in a sandwich shop during the apocalypse. And she had gotten up at 6:15am to be sure to make it here on time. It was a good thing she had, too - she'd gotten fairly lost on her way here (and she refused to check her phone for obvious reasons). As of now, she had about fifteen minutes before 9:00.
So she walked through the courtyard, and entered the main hall. It was like stepping into another city. People were rushing from one place to another, carrying things, talking to other people, drinking things, and just generally being important. Sheila felt a sudden crazy need to look busy, before somebody asked what she was doing here. But it was just an urge. There wasn't a point to looking busy when you weren't.
Someone was walking toward her. Sheila took a breath, picked a direction, and walked forward. As she cleared a row of ornate columns that stretched up to the ceiling, she saw a blue arrow. That was what she was looking for. Halfway to the stairs, she abruptly turned to the set of wooden doors eclipsed by the entrance hall. They slammed open - she was never this nervous, what was with her today? Saving face, Sheila walked to a random unoccupied seat, head held high, trying to act confident. When she sat down, she had a chance to actually see who was in the room.
There was a rough-looking guy with black hair, reading - bizzarely - a celebrity gossip magazine. Another girl was stretched out across a couch. It looked like she was a little rumpled. Obviously she'd been up all night with important Vigil business. It looked like the boy had been up for a while too - he had that rough look about him.
Across the room from her seat, sitting on a table as out of place as she felt, was an old issue of Hunting. Defiantly, Sheila grabbed a book at random: An Illustrated Genealogy of the Royal Family. Not exactly what she'd been hoping for. But she read it anyway - that seemed to be what everyone else was doing. And she didn't want to screw up her first day. These people were going to fix her phone, hopefully. Or her. And she'd be happy to do whatever it was they needed in exchange. Maybe they needed a cashier somewhere.
Zephyr was not having the best time getting to Vigil HQ when he wanted. As per usual he snoozed his alarm about three times before finally getting up. Though he did set them at 15 minute intervals and had the first one go off half an hour early. Still, it was something he should probably try to fix, even though he'd been doing this since he was a teenager. He took his usual half hour long shower and had some cereal for breakfast. He didn't care that he was an adult, he would never be able to let go of having cereal every morning, he'd always be a kid at heart. By the time he was ready to leave he had about half an hour before he had to get going. Since he had so much time he decided to boot up his computer and watch a few videos on Youtube. This would be what he regretted later, sooner than he thought it had been more than half an hour and he was late.
"Damn internet and your time manipulation powers," he cursed to himself as he shut off his computer and ran out the door.
He found himself running most of the way there, only slowing down when it was too crowded to run safely. As he got to the building he stopped and made sure it was the right place, even though he knew it was, his gps lead him right here. He took a deep breath and entered, easily finding where he had to go. It seemed he was late, as most everyone was there already. Looking at his watch he saw it was 5 minutes to 9, so he was right on time.
"If you're not five minutes early then you're late," his dad told him those words long ago, and he still stood by that to this day. Everyone else seemed to not be talking and he didn't want to be the one to break the silence. He pulled a book he was re-reading out of his bag. It was something his dad had recommended and he liked it, Harry Potter, this particular one was the fifth. Zephyr was reading for probably the seventh time, it was one of his favourite books. He waited with the others for whoever had gathered them there to show up, the letter said 9 so it would be a short time now.
"Damn internet and your time manipulation powers," he cursed to himself as he shut off his computer and ran out the door.
He found himself running most of the way there, only slowing down when it was too crowded to run safely. As he got to the building he stopped and made sure it was the right place, even though he knew it was, his gps lead him right here. He took a deep breath and entered, easily finding where he had to go. It seemed he was late, as most everyone was there already. Looking at his watch he saw it was 5 minutes to 9, so he was right on time.
"If you're not five minutes early then you're late," his dad told him those words long ago, and he still stood by that to this day. Everyone else seemed to not be talking and he didn't want to be the one to break the silence. He pulled a book he was re-reading out of his bag. It was something his dad had recommended and he liked it, Harry Potter, this particular one was the fifth. Zephyr was reading for probably the seventh time, it was one of his favourite books. He waited with the others for whoever had gathered them there to show up, the letter said 9 so it would be a short time now.
Mikael rolled out of bed, the consistent droning of his alarm clock was finally too much to sleep through, even with his splitting headache. He stumbled to the bathroom, turned on the light, and barely made it to the toilet in time to empty what little was left in his stomach from the night before. He knew today was important, but last night he didn't seem to care. The worst part is he hadn't been at a party; he had been drinking alone. Whiskey. The main reason he was even going to this damn meeting the letter had said. He was running out of money to buy his precious whiskey.
Mikael wiped his mouth with a scrap of a rag left on the floor and slowly stood up. He looked at his face in disgust. Ever since he got these powers from some "god", he couldn't keep the hair off of his face. It didn't look good, and it looked even worse with his hangover written on his face. He was disgusted. The mirror crashed loudly on his sensitive ears as he smashed it with his fist. The sink was red before he could turn on the water. He splashed some water on what was left of his exposed skin and decided to look at the clock. 8:00. He didn't even know where this headquarters was supposed to be besides a street address. He shook his head as if trying to clear the demons that had been eating on his conscious since he graduated, even though he knew it was no use. He walked to the fridge and put a beer in his pocket for the road. If he was going to get through the day, he would need some liquid help. He poured himself a double shot out of a mostly drank bottle of cheap whiskey and walked out the door.
The sun was brighter than any hungover man should have to deal with, but Mikael just cracked his beer and started to sip it down. He walked in what seemed like circles before coming up to a huge, round building.
"What the hell is this? If they have money for this, I better be walking out of here with a decent paycheck.
He climbed the steps, wincing at the sharp sound of his boots clicking on the marble floor. The noises of everyone speaking and walking were almost too much for him. Then he saw the arrow. With all of their money, they couldn't even afford a sign? Mikael really started to doubt his reasons for coming until he took a drink of his beer and remembered how few were left in his fridge. He opened the door and the squeak the followed nearly dropped him to his knees. He looked around the room and saw three people reading, one lounging.
He mumbled to himself some unintelligible words before adding, "Sure looks like some war-torn soldiers to me.", before taking a seat in the corner. He finished what was left of his bear and dropped the can beside the chair.
Mikael wiped his mouth with a scrap of a rag left on the floor and slowly stood up. He looked at his face in disgust. Ever since he got these powers from some "god", he couldn't keep the hair off of his face. It didn't look good, and it looked even worse with his hangover written on his face. He was disgusted. The mirror crashed loudly on his sensitive ears as he smashed it with his fist. The sink was red before he could turn on the water. He splashed some water on what was left of his exposed skin and decided to look at the clock. 8:00. He didn't even know where this headquarters was supposed to be besides a street address. He shook his head as if trying to clear the demons that had been eating on his conscious since he graduated, even though he knew it was no use. He walked to the fridge and put a beer in his pocket for the road. If he was going to get through the day, he would need some liquid help. He poured himself a double shot out of a mostly drank bottle of cheap whiskey and walked out the door.
The sun was brighter than any hungover man should have to deal with, but Mikael just cracked his beer and started to sip it down. He walked in what seemed like circles before coming up to a huge, round building.
"What the hell is this? If they have money for this, I better be walking out of here with a decent paycheck.
He climbed the steps, wincing at the sharp sound of his boots clicking on the marble floor. The noises of everyone speaking and walking were almost too much for him. Then he saw the arrow. With all of their money, they couldn't even afford a sign? Mikael really started to doubt his reasons for coming until he took a drink of his beer and remembered how few were left in his fridge. He opened the door and the squeak the followed nearly dropped him to his knees. He looked around the room and saw three people reading, one lounging.
He mumbled to himself some unintelligible words before adding, "Sure looks like some war-torn soldiers to me.", before taking a seat in the corner. He finished what was left of his bear and dropped the can beside the chair.
A cloaked form made its way up the steps of the imposing building, just behind the complaining man who smelled of spirits. As the drunkard opened the door, the hidden person slipped past, making her way to a corner of the room, keeping to herself. The figure's hood moved about as the woman underneath looked about cautiously, seeming to be on edge. Then again, they had a right to be. The cloak did little to hide her thin, feminine frame, but she hoped that it kept the secret of her morphed body from the others in the room as long as possible. People didn't seem to like nonhumans as of late, and the woman had no intention of instigating anything when she was outnumbered.It had been a confusing few days for her, and it worried Esailia that she was still alive at all.
It was only last week Esailia had been in Africa, scoping out the marketplace in her hometown south of the ruins of Cairo. She had just managed to pickpocket a man wearing a fancy suit, but as she was making her escape, two more came into view ahead of her. Cursing her stupidity, she attempted to dash around a few of the stalls, but it was no use. these men wanted her. The one she stole from came in behind, and the two ahead split, effectively boxing her in. crouching low, arching her back, and stretching her arms out to make her rags of a cloak make her form appear bigger, she prepared for a life or death fight. But again, the men seemed to have other ideas. They took a step back, allowing another man, this one dressed in more appropriate clothing for the climate, to approach. He studied Esailia's stance for a moment, then shook his head in disbelief.
"When I heard of a cat-like demon running about this town, I wrote them off for superstition." he pointed to Esailia's hood, where the girl's ears had perked up, causing the cloth to tent atop her head in a very inhuman fashion. "But that proves they are true, doesn't it? That's good." The man walked forward, reaching into a hip pouch. Esailia retreated until her back hit a wall, and she literally hissed in expectation of him pulling a weapon. She was surprised to see a piece of paper instead come from the pouch, but that turned to confusion when he held it out to her. "You want food? You want a place where others are as strange as you? Take this and head to the airport."
The man flicked the paper towards her, causing it to land right at her feet. With that, the men left without any more word. Curiosity getting the better of her instinct to flee, Esailia picked up what she could now see was an envelope. Opening it, she found inside a plane ticket, money, and a note that read:
Buy a new cloak, a thick, expensive one that will cover you entirely. My men will make sure you're left alone through airport security. A better life awaits you.
After that, her memory was a bllurr of travel; night running to get to the airport, sneaking past distracted security, flying on a plane that scared her to death...only to find herself inside this room. What in Bastet's name did she get herself into?
It was only last week Esailia had been in Africa, scoping out the marketplace in her hometown south of the ruins of Cairo. She had just managed to pickpocket a man wearing a fancy suit, but as she was making her escape, two more came into view ahead of her. Cursing her stupidity, she attempted to dash around a few of the stalls, but it was no use. these men wanted her. The one she stole from came in behind, and the two ahead split, effectively boxing her in. crouching low, arching her back, and stretching her arms out to make her rags of a cloak make her form appear bigger, she prepared for a life or death fight. But again, the men seemed to have other ideas. They took a step back, allowing another man, this one dressed in more appropriate clothing for the climate, to approach. He studied Esailia's stance for a moment, then shook his head in disbelief.
"When I heard of a cat-like demon running about this town, I wrote them off for superstition." he pointed to Esailia's hood, where the girl's ears had perked up, causing the cloth to tent atop her head in a very inhuman fashion. "But that proves they are true, doesn't it? That's good." The man walked forward, reaching into a hip pouch. Esailia retreated until her back hit a wall, and she literally hissed in expectation of him pulling a weapon. She was surprised to see a piece of paper instead come from the pouch, but that turned to confusion when he held it out to her. "You want food? You want a place where others are as strange as you? Take this and head to the airport."
The man flicked the paper towards her, causing it to land right at her feet. With that, the men left without any more word. Curiosity getting the better of her instinct to flee, Esailia picked up what she could now see was an envelope. Opening it, she found inside a plane ticket, money, and a note that read:
Buy a new cloak, a thick, expensive one that will cover you entirely. My men will make sure you're left alone through airport security. A better life awaits you.
After that, her memory was a bllurr of travel; night running to get to the airport, sneaking past distracted security, flying on a plane that scared her to death...only to find herself inside this room. What in Bastet's name did she get herself into?
As the waiting room began to fill, and the young recruits arrived one after another, the clock on the wall was ticking away. Time was passing by as everyone was waiting in silence, some in anxiety, some in relaxation. Soon enough, 9 o'clock was imminent. Then 9 o'clock came. And as quietly as it came, it passed. The minutes kept ticking, and nothing happened. Whatever any of the people in the room were expecting, it did not take place. Finally, it was 9:15. No sign of anything that would acknowledge the recruit's arrival, punctuality or presence. The spacious windows behind the desk began sending in more rays of light, as the morning sun was climbing up the tall towers of Headquarters.
A grey car came to a halt just outside the large doors of Vigilantes Headquarters. The purring engines died down and the door flung open as if pushed a little to harshly. When John Johnson stepped foot into the court yard that hadn't seen him in five years, his first reaction was to furrow his brows. Too many bad memories. A stray glance that happened to fall on the rear mirror gave him a distorted view on himself. The grey suit looked worn out. Dusty, and scratched. No wonder, it hadn't been taken out in half a decade. Nowadays it matched his hair, going grey as it was. Pitiful. The plates on his shoulders were dulled. The three red stars could say what they wanted. So could the pins on his chest. High Champion. John almost spat out. Even if all the other High Champions had gone to hell since he had left he couldn't care less. Breaking away from the sad image in the reflection, he took the long road up the stairs to the entrance. Ten steps later, he opened the imposing doors. Still as pompous as ever.
William tapped his foot impatiently until the tiny "beep-beep" of his watch alarm broke the silence of the room. Nine o'clock. That meant that everybody should be here... assuming that his new co-workers were of the punctual sort. He switched off the alarm, tossed the magazine back onto the table, and then glanced around to see who he would have the pleasure of working with. The group seemed like it was a cast selected for a TV show, but as far was he could tell, there were no cameras anywhere. No security cameras either, he thought, adding that to the list of things every normal headquarters had that this one didn't. There was a man who really liked his booze, a brooding mysterious girl in the corner, and... He couldn't help but let out a snicker when he saw that one of them was reading Harry Potter. Just how old was that guy anyway?
9:05, and still no sign of anybody remotely resembling a boss to tell them what to do. If he knew he was going to have extra time, he would have had another cigarette outside before coming in. It wasn't that his nicotine craving was unbearable -- even a stick of gum would have helped -- but he was getting pretty bored now. The reading material was dull, the people in the room were even more so, and he had no tasks to keep his mind busy. When he was as bored as this, he smoked; it was a simple as that. He glanced around the room one last time and saw neither a "No Smoking" sign nor a smoke detector, so screw it, he was going to smoke.
He stood up and stretched his legs for a second and walked over to the discarded beer can that Mikael had so charmingly placed on the floor. "You're done with this, right?" William said, making sure that the man had no mental instabilities that compelled him to protect his discarded property before picking up the can. The decorator may not have provided him with an ash tray, but Fate did. It was like a sign from the heavens or something. Rules be damned; the Gods were telling him he could smoke. What more permission did he need? He took the makeshift ash tray back to his chair, pulled out a lighter and a cigarette, lit up, and then finally took in a deep drag. If anybody in the room had a problem with him smoking , then they could calmly and politely voice their health concerns and he would put the thing out, otherwise they could go screw themselves.
9:05, and still no sign of anybody remotely resembling a boss to tell them what to do. If he knew he was going to have extra time, he would have had another cigarette outside before coming in. It wasn't that his nicotine craving was unbearable -- even a stick of gum would have helped -- but he was getting pretty bored now. The reading material was dull, the people in the room were even more so, and he had no tasks to keep his mind busy. When he was as bored as this, he smoked; it was a simple as that. He glanced around the room one last time and saw neither a "No Smoking" sign nor a smoke detector, so screw it, he was going to smoke.
He stood up and stretched his legs for a second and walked over to the discarded beer can that Mikael had so charmingly placed on the floor. "You're done with this, right?" William said, making sure that the man had no mental instabilities that compelled him to protect his discarded property before picking up the can. The decorator may not have provided him with an ash tray, but Fate did. It was like a sign from the heavens or something. Rules be damned; the Gods were telling him he could smoke. What more permission did he need? He took the makeshift ash tray back to his chair, pulled out a lighter and a cigarette, lit up, and then finally took in a deep drag. If anybody in the room had a problem with him smoking , then they could calmly and politely voice their health concerns and he would put the thing out, otherwise they could go screw themselves.
Every time, EVERY TIME!
Just as her eyes where about to close, some other newcomer would walk into the room! At last a long enough gap.....Then the crash of the can! Sure it wasn't much of a crash but in this awkward silence it may aswell have been a Bomb going off! She gives up on letting her eyes shut for extended periods of time....A "tch" escapes her as she sits up and looks about the room, since she cant nap she opts to come to predetermined judgments about the people that have entered.
First up! A girl who reeks of innocent, looks like shes trying to be as small as possible.....No wait, shes just small. Another person came to her immediate attention, Shrouded in robes she cant even see it's face! What if its a Streaker! Or even worse...A Vampire who Sparkles in the sunlight! A sigh escapes her, all the other girls watched that movie, she would have been abnormal not to right? But it was sooo bad and totally was carried by Guys who used more hair care product than she did. (General store brand...But that's beside the point!)Wow that train of thought, her lack of sleep must be messing with her. She blows her bang out of her face once more, followed by the rolling of the eyes at its rebellion.
Harry potter!Quit the contrary to the previous thought! Oh and the guy is reading it? Wait he looks like harry potter sorta'kinda'not'really But maybe with glasses! And Aleksy looks towards the man in the corner, The CAN man....That sonofabitch, wait what? Damn she doesn't know why but the amount of instinctual hatred....In fact a glare is now welded across her face?! Aleksy wonders if she really is feeling bad vibes or if its just because he is the real reason shes awake right now! Oh yeah and the one guy who was here when she arrived....Wow....Hes....Just.....Basic? Nothing but a plain face, no weird smell, no facial defect no weird clothing choice, just kinda there. That is 100% unexpected, in fact other than the shrimpet he may have taken the award for the one thing that didn't belong!
Man that must have killed a ton of time she hoped, she prayed, Damn airport security checks fraggin her watch! "Beep Beep" OH please for the love of all the Cute woodland creatures let it be 9:00....GOD THAT DAMN CLOCK MAKES THESE SECONDS FEEL LIKE HOURS! Wait....Clock?! She tracks the sound.....That damn thing...How long has it been there! Wait it says 9:03?! By the 7 layers of Hades someone is going to be skinned alive! 9:04....9:05, Mr.Plain stands up and takes the can? The cig' tips off the ash tray....9:06....9:07.9:08.9:09..9:10..
"Okay that's it WHAT THE HELL!"
The exclamation proceeds her standing, more a launch as fast as she gained altitude!
"I did not Ride across a world in some deathtrap in the sky, TO wait!"
Not really directed nor did it serve a purpose, but damn if it didn't make her feel better...She walks over to the opposite side of the desk, and begins fiddling with the chair. She pulls off her watch? The sound of cracking glass? What the hell is going on? She pockets what are clearly the remains of the watch and walks back to her seat a smirk on her face and a odd amount of relief imitating from her. (A spring loaded minute hand will ensure someone gets more acquainted with time management!)
Just as her eyes where about to close, some other newcomer would walk into the room! At last a long enough gap.....Then the crash of the can! Sure it wasn't much of a crash but in this awkward silence it may aswell have been a Bomb going off! She gives up on letting her eyes shut for extended periods of time....A "tch" escapes her as she sits up and looks about the room, since she cant nap she opts to come to predetermined judgments about the people that have entered.
First up! A girl who reeks of innocent, looks like shes trying to be as small as possible.....No wait, shes just small. Another person came to her immediate attention, Shrouded in robes she cant even see it's face! What if its a Streaker! Or even worse...A Vampire who Sparkles in the sunlight! A sigh escapes her, all the other girls watched that movie, she would have been abnormal not to right? But it was sooo bad and totally was carried by Guys who used more hair care product than she did. (General store brand...But that's beside the point!)Wow that train of thought, her lack of sleep must be messing with her. She blows her bang out of her face once more, followed by the rolling of the eyes at its rebellion.
Harry potter!Quit the contrary to the previous thought! Oh and the guy is reading it? Wait he looks like harry potter sorta'kinda'not'really But maybe with glasses! And Aleksy looks towards the man in the corner, The CAN man....That sonofabitch, wait what? Damn she doesn't know why but the amount of instinctual hatred....In fact a glare is now welded across her face?! Aleksy wonders if she really is feeling bad vibes or if its just because he is the real reason shes awake right now! Oh yeah and the one guy who was here when she arrived....Wow....Hes....Just.....Basic? Nothing but a plain face, no weird smell, no facial defect no weird clothing choice, just kinda there. That is 100% unexpected, in fact other than the shrimpet he may have taken the award for the one thing that didn't belong!
Man that must have killed a ton of time she hoped, she prayed, Damn airport security checks fraggin her watch! "Beep Beep" OH please for the love of all the Cute woodland creatures let it be 9:00....GOD THAT DAMN CLOCK MAKES THESE SECONDS FEEL LIKE HOURS! Wait....Clock?! She tracks the sound.....That damn thing...How long has it been there! Wait it says 9:03?! By the 7 layers of Hades someone is going to be skinned alive! 9:04....9:05, Mr.Plain stands up and takes the can? The cig' tips off the ash tray....9:06....9:07.9:08.9:09..9:10..
"Okay that's it WHAT THE HELL!"
The exclamation proceeds her standing, more a launch as fast as she gained altitude!
"I did not Ride across a world in some deathtrap in the sky, TO wait!"
Not really directed nor did it serve a purpose, but damn if it didn't make her feel better...She walks over to the opposite side of the desk, and begins fiddling with the chair. She pulls off her watch? The sound of cracking glass? What the hell is going on? She pockets what are clearly the remains of the watch and walks back to her seat a smirk on her face and a odd amount of relief imitating from her. (A spring loaded minute hand will ensure someone gets more acquainted with time management!)
"Okay that's it WHAT THE HELL!"
Sheila looked up, startled, from a far-too detailed summary of some King or another; she never really got the hang of these things. Brown-Haired-Girl was standing - well, imposing uprightedness upon the universe, more like - not more than a foot from Sheila. There was a smell of smoke in the room. Sheila had been so busy trying to sort out the names of royal family members that she hadn't noticed the cigarette. She had heard her phone chirp a few minutes ago, but she ignored it. It wasn't worth the effort.
"I did not Ride across a world in some deathtrap in the sky, TO wait!"
Briefly, Sheila wondered at what kind of experimental craft the Vigil might be testing. That thought was rapidly eclipsed by nervousness. What if she'd been supposed to be doing something, this whole time? Was she holding everyone up? She brushed the flare-up from her mind. If she was supposed to have been doing something other than sitting quietly, than someone should've said something. They didn't, so even if she was supposed to be doing something, she wasn't in the wrong.
Brown-Haired-Girl stalked to the desk. What was she-. Brown-Haired-Girl violently took apart her watch. And then fiddled with the chair, just as violently. Sheila began to feel uncomfortable. Glancing at the others in the room - when did Miss Mysterious arrive‽ - Sheila felt reassured. This behavior was not normal after all. Brown-Haired-Girl steamed back to her seat. Sheila glanced at the desk chair.
"Um," she said. But then she decided it wasn't any of her business after all. Her phone chirped again, impatiently, but she doggedly continued ignoring it.
So she settled for glancing at everyone else in the room again. Celebrity Gossip Smoker, Beer Guy, Cute Book-Reader, and Miss Mysterious. Her eyes unconsciously lingered on Cute Book-Reader for half a second longer than everybody else. Maybe he wasn't cute as much as he was... normal.
Well, she did like his face.
That could be a problem.
Sheila looked up, startled, from a far-too detailed summary of some King or another; she never really got the hang of these things. Brown-Haired-Girl was standing - well, imposing uprightedness upon the universe, more like - not more than a foot from Sheila. There was a smell of smoke in the room. Sheila had been so busy trying to sort out the names of royal family members that she hadn't noticed the cigarette. She had heard her phone chirp a few minutes ago, but she ignored it. It wasn't worth the effort.
"I did not Ride across a world in some deathtrap in the sky, TO wait!"
Briefly, Sheila wondered at what kind of experimental craft the Vigil might be testing. That thought was rapidly eclipsed by nervousness. What if she'd been supposed to be doing something, this whole time? Was she holding everyone up? She brushed the flare-up from her mind. If she was supposed to have been doing something other than sitting quietly, than someone should've said something. They didn't, so even if she was supposed to be doing something, she wasn't in the wrong.
Brown-Haired-Girl stalked to the desk. What was she-. Brown-Haired-Girl violently took apart her watch. And then fiddled with the chair, just as violently. Sheila began to feel uncomfortable. Glancing at the others in the room - when did Miss Mysterious arrive‽ - Sheila felt reassured. This behavior was not normal after all. Brown-Haired-Girl steamed back to her seat. Sheila glanced at the desk chair.
"Um," she said. But then she decided it wasn't any of her business after all. Her phone chirped again, impatiently, but she doggedly continued ignoring it.
So she settled for glancing at everyone else in the room again. Celebrity Gossip Smoker, Beer Guy, Cute Book-Reader, and Miss Mysterious. Her eyes unconsciously lingered on Cute Book-Reader for half a second longer than everybody else. Maybe he wasn't cute as much as he was... normal.
Well, she did like his face.
That could be a problem.
As Zephyr smelled the all too familiar scent of a cigarette he looked at his watch to see it was five after 9. Which was curious to him seeing as he figured being punctual would be kind of important. He looked at who was lighting up the cigarette, it seemed he was using another guys empty been can as a make shift ash tray. His parents had smoked, though he couldn't understand why. His mom had always said it was because she was an idiot, and his dad was smoking a different kind of substance. Zephyr just let the guy do his thing, it wasn't his place to lecture some stranger on the dangers of smoking. Besides, he was sure this guy knew all about how bad it was, so it was his choice. Zephyr went back to reading his book.
About five minutes later another girl seemed to be getting quite impatient, and from what she said it also sounded like she didn't particularly enjoy planes. He opted out of paying attention to what she was doing and instead looked at everyone else. They were all there because they were chosen champions of some god or another. He wondered what everyone else could do with the powers they were gifted. Maybe they could fly, or make fireballs, maybe someone had healing properties. While thinking of this he realized his eyes went back to his book but he didn't take in anything he read, that seemed to happen a lot. Looking up he noticed a girl was looking at him, not the brown haired one who flipped, the one next to her with black hair. Zephyr gave her a smile and a little wave. Unfortunately he used the hand he was using to mark his spot so he lost where he was on the page.
"Oh damn it, where was I," he muttered to himself, the others might have heard, he wasn't sure. He checked his watch again once he found his spot. Whoever was supposed to meet them was rather late, he hoped this wouldn't be a normal occurrence. He didn't really like people who were late all the time, it was bad manners. As he read and waited he kept finding himself looking up at the girl to see if she was looking at him again.
About five minutes later another girl seemed to be getting quite impatient, and from what she said it also sounded like she didn't particularly enjoy planes. He opted out of paying attention to what she was doing and instead looked at everyone else. They were all there because they were chosen champions of some god or another. He wondered what everyone else could do with the powers they were gifted. Maybe they could fly, or make fireballs, maybe someone had healing properties. While thinking of this he realized his eyes went back to his book but he didn't take in anything he read, that seemed to happen a lot. Looking up he noticed a girl was looking at him, not the brown haired one who flipped, the one next to her with black hair. Zephyr gave her a smile and a little wave. Unfortunately he used the hand he was using to mark his spot so he lost where he was on the page.
"Oh damn it, where was I," he muttered to himself, the others might have heard, he wasn't sure. He checked his watch again once he found his spot. Whoever was supposed to meet them was rather late, he hoped this wouldn't be a normal occurrence. He didn't really like people who were late all the time, it was bad manners. As he read and waited he kept finding himself looking up at the girl to see if she was looking at him again.
Mikael looked at the man who took his empty can with a look on his face that was a mix of admiration and anger. Who was this guy to think he could just take Mikael's can. Sure he asked, but he didn't wait for any sort of response. At the same time, that took courage, especially in a place with this. The room was filled with psychos and nut jobs; a girl who freaks out about planes, another person hidden deeply in a robe, a girl who got distracted by some ancient, boring book, and a person who thought he should be reading fiction while waiting for his war to start. To take something from a man who looked either drunk or hungover in a place like this took balls. Mikael liked people who had guts.
"Hey. Can I bum a smoke? If we're waiting, I might as well take a drag."
Mikael looked around for what could be used as an ashtray in case the smoking man said yes. After a quick, fruitless scan, he shrugged his shoulders. He honestly didn't care if ashes wound up on the expensive looking floor. Until he started seeing money or something worth more than money, he wasn't going to offer his respect. His services maybe, but not his respect. Not until it was earned anyways.
On his quick search, Mikael took in a lot. He had always been good at picking out details, and this time was no exception. There was something in the air between the genealogy girl and the Harry Potter boy, or at least they wanted something to be there. It turned his stomach. War was no time to think about crushes and dates, maybe sex, but only stuff that wouldn't affect feelings. There was the freak out girl playing with her watch. Who knew what she was doing. There was something weird about the person in the robe. It didn't fall quite right on its body, and although he wasn't sure, he thought it to be a girl. He looked at the cigarette man, but then his head started to pound and he quit.
His head started throbbing harder than a normal hangover and he wasn't quite sure if this meant something was off because of his recent acquiring of powers or if it was just a weird hangover caused by bad whiskey. He shook his head to make it disappear before closing his eyes and putting his face in his hands while still somehow managing to massage his temples.
"Hey. Can I bum a smoke? If we're waiting, I might as well take a drag."
Mikael looked around for what could be used as an ashtray in case the smoking man said yes. After a quick, fruitless scan, he shrugged his shoulders. He honestly didn't care if ashes wound up on the expensive looking floor. Until he started seeing money or something worth more than money, he wasn't going to offer his respect. His services maybe, but not his respect. Not until it was earned anyways.
On his quick search, Mikael took in a lot. He had always been good at picking out details, and this time was no exception. There was something in the air between the genealogy girl and the Harry Potter boy, or at least they wanted something to be there. It turned his stomach. War was no time to think about crushes and dates, maybe sex, but only stuff that wouldn't affect feelings. There was the freak out girl playing with her watch. Who knew what she was doing. There was something weird about the person in the robe. It didn't fall quite right on its body, and although he wasn't sure, he thought it to be a girl. He looked at the cigarette man, but then his head started to pound and he quit.
His head started throbbing harder than a normal hangover and he wasn't quite sure if this meant something was off because of his recent acquiring of powers or if it was just a weird hangover caused by bad whiskey. He shook his head to make it disappear before closing his eyes and putting his face in his hands while still somehow managing to massage his temples.
Esailia kept to herself, having learned patience in all things during the last few years. She also didn't miss the eyes on her as everyone inspected everyone in their own ways. She didn't care about them. To her, the only things she cared about were their sizes and how strong or smart they appeared. The men of the room seemed to be well fed, though their habits of either drinking or smoking would affect their ability to fight in a long or fast-paced battle, which wouldn't be an issue for her. The women ranged from either impatience and impulsive to reserved, bored, and calculated. The impulsive one seemed to have an energy and strength about her that would give the anthromorph a run for her money. While the one with a book would most likely find a way to end a fight as quickly as she could...They would need to be watched.
She held still as the time rolled on, a long span to her rapid-fire thoughts and observations. But finally, the heat of the room, the stuffy cloak, and the fur she was so used to keeping her warm in the desert nights became too much. Well, those around her were bound to find out about her appearance one way or another. She reached up, the black and white pattern on the light covering of fur on her hands in the light giving the observant people their first clue. But those slower to notice her movement wouldn't be left in the dark for long.
Esailia flipped her hood back, her feline pupils contracting while her ears flicked a few times in freedom. Her face was not fully human either, the nose shrunken a bit in a cat-like fashion, and her black and white hair contrasting with her grey cloak. Esailia gazed around as her body shifted slightly, the cloak giving off a slight shake, as if she had merely adjusted it from the inside. But while she had shook her arms to loosen them, the movement had hid the fact she had bent her knees, shifting her weight to the balls of her feet in preparation for anyone who 'disliked' her appearance.
She held still as the time rolled on, a long span to her rapid-fire thoughts and observations. But finally, the heat of the room, the stuffy cloak, and the fur she was so used to keeping her warm in the desert nights became too much. Well, those around her were bound to find out about her appearance one way or another. She reached up, the black and white pattern on the light covering of fur on her hands in the light giving the observant people their first clue. But those slower to notice her movement wouldn't be left in the dark for long.
Esailia flipped her hood back, her feline pupils contracting while her ears flicked a few times in freedom. Her face was not fully human either, the nose shrunken a bit in a cat-like fashion, and her black and white hair contrasting with her grey cloak. Esailia gazed around as her body shifted slightly, the cloak giving off a slight shake, as if she had merely adjusted it from the inside. But while she had shook her arms to loosen them, the movement had hid the fact she had bent her knees, shifting her weight to the balls of her feet in preparation for anyone who 'disliked' her appearance.
Finally, the ice in the room was starting to melt, and what better way to begin than by bitching about the airfare. William chuckled softly to himself as the Amazonian put her mental instability on display for the room to see. It wasn't like he was judging her or anything though; everybody was screwed up in some way whether they cared to admit it or not. William smoked, she yelled and broke shit. Both habits were plenty destructive. Then the man whom he borrowed the can from asked to bum a smoke. William didn't normally share his cigs, but he did owe the guy at least 5 cents -- though, William had a strong inkling that the can would not have been otherwise recycled -- and the guy sure as hell looked like he needed a drag more than anybody in the room right now. So, he took out his carton, pushed one cigarette forward, and quietly held it out for him to take. "By the way, my name's Will," he said after a pause. If they were on smoking terms, he figured they could at least share names.
As William took another drag he saw that Mrs. Mystery in the corner of the room decided to take her robes off. Now, he had seen some pretty screwed up things in his life -- crack houses, dead bodies, giant shadow-jaws of death -- but a full fledged anthromorph was definitely new. He raised an eyebrow when she revealed her animal features, and he noticed how tense the girl looked. Apparently where she was from, people didn't take took kindly to beastkin. Personally, William had no problem with it. The poor girl was obviously on edge and people who wanted fights were usually a LOT more outgoing. Still, he couldn't help but comment on the strange sight. "Tch, guess watching too much anime really does turn you into a cat girl."
As William took another drag he saw that Mrs. Mystery in the corner of the room decided to take her robes off. Now, he had seen some pretty screwed up things in his life -- crack houses, dead bodies, giant shadow-jaws of death -- but a full fledged anthromorph was definitely new. He raised an eyebrow when she revealed her animal features, and he noticed how tense the girl looked. Apparently where she was from, people didn't take took kindly to beastkin. Personally, William had no problem with it. The poor girl was obviously on edge and people who wanted fights were usually a LOT more outgoing. Still, he couldn't help but comment on the strange sight. "Tch, guess watching too much anime really does turn you into a cat girl."
The light in the main hall was as bright as ever and the almost unnatural rays blinded John as he set foot on the polished marble. The sickening shine still made him want to vomit. Here, at the heart of the vigils, everyone tried to make a point that humanity was still save and that it's glory was being preserved. What a thin layer of lies. John waltzed forward and his steel plated boots clattered on the floor like horseshoes. He didn't really mind nor did he care that many a blue collar he passed immediately stiffened and saluted after recognizing the rank markings on his shoulders. It was like back in the days. Walking up the stairs, the man came to a sudden halt as he remembered something he had to do first. "Oops, gotta grab my files..." If things hadn't changed too much, they'd be waiting for him in that room.
The clock on the wall read 9:17 as the wooden door finally opened again. The clacking sound of heavy boots was the first audible thing, resounding in the small room as a figure appeared in the door frame. A grey, worn out suit on a tall man. Brown hair with grey strands, apparently freshly cut. A wrinkled face too old for its age. The man who now had all eyes on him swiftly made his way past the waiting champion and towards the desk opposing the door. Ignoring them as if they merely worked here, the newcomer started going through the papers and dossiers scattered on the mahogany surface. For a while, the rustling noise was the only sound in the room. After he had obviously found what he was looking for, the man turned and was about to set course for the door again, when he paused and let his grey eyes wander over the people gathered. He kept quizzically gazing at them for a few seconds, as if not too sure what to make of them. The tentative silence was clear enough to hear a pin drop. Then, his mouth opened and a dry voice that was a bit hoarse filled the quietness.
"So.. what'cha kids doing here?"
