Scoundrel — Roleplayer Guild

Lloyd Washterson
@FantasyChic

The corridors had their reputation as spectacles of unearthly suspicions due to the recent experiences few S.C.A.R. members had from prolonged, unaccompanied strolls between facilities. Nevertheless, to some, it became grounds for phlegmatic minds to muster either the most impractical of ideas or coherent plans embracing a sophisticated deal of processes. It was the latter for Lloyd and for the duration of S.C.A.R.'s post-reconstruction, the corridors became a distinguished setting to establish the flow of his thoughts as well as pull off an abrupt session of tranquil meditating throughout the sequence of his ambles. 

At times, it was where specters of the past roamed, embellishing a ghastly mood across halls brooded with the vindictive cries that were left from the ashes of war. After the bombing of this secretive location, many suffered a loss far from what was expected. Some were delivered with a quick, unforeseen execution while others suffered an unyielding burden to survive. Most had met with the former and those who remained were fractured by a surfeit of disquieting torments deemed far beyond their tolerance. Such hapless souls were destined to immense measures of anguish as they saw themselves completely constrained by the clutches of their opposed enemies. 

Cogitating about the rubble left by his father's exploits had lately questioned Lloyd about the truth behind the crusade. Never did he become more shackled of anything else than a cause he dubiously deciphered which later ushered a ceaseless manifestation of his unwavering resolve to let Nick's legacy resurface from the sepulcher made by his enemies. However, the lives that were lost either belonging to valiant martyrs or the guiltless who never wavered any involvement with the war, eventually carved a persistent doubt which drove Lloyd to perilous deeds of squandering his control over the crusade. These then kindled an entity of hatred that cemented a frequent misuse of power. It was always directed towards the government, blaming every possible loss towards their ignorance and revulsion against the existence of his father's kind. There were other things Lloyd failed to see as their enemies weren't only the ones who took many lives from war's dominion. But he became more and more withdrawn to accept those transgressions that remained on his father's side thus deepened his anger, later drifting his perception from what was just and righteous.

Uninterrupted thuds of footsteps broke the pervasive reign of silence as three men marched the nearly deserted halls. Lighting was adequate, providing a rather translucent passageway to respective facilities present. However, it didn't entirely cover most of them as some adjacent rooms were built near dim hallways. The maintenance crew started to become conscious about it only recently due to a few known accidents occurring in its vicinity. Eventually, they've established their actions towards the matter but was left partially undone as for other important issues in need of attention. Neon lights were set up against walls, following the shape and uniform pattern of arrows leading a specific direction. They were arranged for emergency scenarios, purposefully providing a routed guide towards emergency exits. They weren't powered by electricity as some situations that would cut the source of it will be a detriment to their use. Instead, generators provide them power and will only function once emergencies become evident. 

"It always fascinates me how these corridors were built," Despite being recently strained with court cases, later becoming an impairment to his mental composure, Lloyd's voice remained eloquent, calm and sultry to its inflection. "Our pursuit truly captures the bewitching trails of our endeavors."

One of the escorts gestured in agreement but remained silent all throughout his master's remarks.

"Elijah Pelton, if I'm not mistaken?" To many who held control over a vast number of populace, it was easily deemed as a peevish task to remember names individually. However, Lloyd's incisiveness topped with one of the finest observation skills helped him conquer the familiarization of most S.C.A.R. members. 

"Yes, master Lloyd?" Elijah wasn't surprised of how his name was pronounced but the inquiry of his master alone. His voice shook in-between words but managed to pull off a collective and calm response.

"This seems vague to me and do correct me if ever I'm wrong but I remember your mother's service for this faction's cause. Unfortunate that her end was at the stained hands of those whom we despise." 

Elijah fell silent again, continuing with his steps until he took his own grit at voicing his thoughts.

"What's done is done master Lloyd. I know she doesn't want me to forever lament her death, so I won't and I vowed to take her strength and perseverance as to honor her good deeds for this faction." A rich unflinching diction filled a void in his lilt. It was something Lloyd haven't heard in a while in which he was satisfied of. 

"Well I shall humbly enlighten that vow and avenge your mother. Her good deeds will not be in vain." Lloyd assured, reinforcing his own persuasiveness which was then responded by a silent nod by the escort. 

Within a few ticks, the composition of the three men's footsteps was recently blended with another. Lloyd was perhaps mindful of it, at how it changed the sound pattern but his attention wasn't fully lured to it nonetheless. He continued making his way towards the simulation room as his abrupt conversation ceased. As he met an intersecting hallway from his left, he saw Victoria - one of the recent members who have already spent a few days working as an entertainer inside the headquarters. Lloyd glanced at her quickly, attempting to make a noticeable act only to be slammed near each other as Victoria's surveillance was being driven somewhere else, or perhaps as Lloyd believed. 

Lloyd didn't mind her abrasive response as it was expected. Instead, he exchanged it with a thin, brittle smile. He held his urge to chuckle gleefully only to have escaped but with little emotion being hinted.

"Ah, miss Victoria. What a lovely time for our sudden encounters. How have you been lately?" From hinting little emotion, Lloyd's tone started to become sly and pretentious in a measurable bit. However, he was aware of it and tried to sound appealing as possible. 

"I assume you are well," As far as usual conversations go, Lloyd wasn't exactly patient when it comes to waiting for a response. He was always direct and wanted to get the main point reeled out. "As you know, I have something that I need to do. Fate calls at a very untimely downpour as it never gives me a friendly coordination. However, I might be rude to you for not showing what this place truly is, and if you can forgive my rudeness, might I ask you by coming with me to where I'll be venturing?"

Towards women, Lloyd would likely express his pleasantries to attain his mischievous wit and charming image. However, there could be times when would be more conscious about it that he shows the most obvious signs of disinterest among individuals who possessed no potential. Some instances could let himself pretend that he is drawn to someone's way of speech but would hide the fact of his indifference towards a specific subject. 

"Please, this will be an exciting ride. Something you might consider as 'entertaining'." 

He reached his hand for Victoria's, waiting to feel the delicate caress of her palms and her agreement towards his offer.  

_______________________________________________________

Eliard Johnson

As far as how his powers functioned, Eli actually possessed a calculative estimation of the sphere's explosive power. From how the energies were being cascaded to a sizable amount had Eli developed a certain awareness on his hold towards its magnitude and destructive capabilities thus how he could easily modify the course of his power's trail. This, however, weren't entirely accurate, proven that some situations could lead him out from his own control. There were times when these mustered calculations became a misleading notion in which had led Eli to several mishandlings. 

Even so, he was certain at this time as he continued on giving motion to the sphere. It flew around slowly until it was at close proximity to contact after inching a small distance from where the dark-suited man stood. A single touch could unleash the suppressed energies accumulated inside the sphere, later blossoming into a powerful explosion. 

"Are you going to tell me now? or are you just afraid?" Eli's voice sounded far from being respectful. He wasn't any of that kind, not to strangers who kept on puzzling his narrow way of thinking. 

"Answer me!" He shouted but his abrasive actions still failed to influence any necessary response, not until one of the prisoners started to voice out. One was a resilient sweetheart with a sharp tongue who managed to call him 'Bubbles' which made Eli slightly amused yet annoyed.

"Bubbles?" Eli laughed hysterically, almost as if it was unbearable for someone to hear. It lasted longer than expected and once he stopped, he gathered his breath like he's about to submerge underwater.

"Are you fucking with me? Bubbles? Heh! Is that the best name you can give?" As Eli's concentration deviated from where he was supposed to attend to, the sphere vanished which then made the threatened man sigh with relief. "I should call you Cheapskin then! And be thankful that you are womanly-like, else I'd punch you in the face for ever calling me Bubbles." 

Eli later noticed another one of the prisoners who, much to his surprise, acted more of a child than someone of his gargantuan stature. Another was someone who hummed a tune he was definitely unknowing of but his overall attention was spanned over an idea he could possibly associate with the big man.

"The fuck is wrong with that big shit?" He murmured, grimacing over the unnatural behaviour of the big, muscled guy. "Hey! you want to run around like a child? at least run over this moronic woman who called me Bubbles so that her pretty face will have a permanent stomp mark. After that, you can step on this crazy little shit who is humming a nursery rhyme." 

With that, Eli left the woman with an insulting smug.
Scoundrel Member

potentially demented

Status

Bio

Most Recent Posts
