The Psychic Refugee

Overgrown

Out of the thicket of trees he'd been originally watching for this attack from, a man stepped into the clearing, a man with a strong face and feral eyes that instantly put Cid on guard as he watched him approach, followed by a more cautious looking companion. He chose to ignore the second man, meeting the fierce gaze of the Wolf. "Well, depends if you were friends with this idiot." He said, finally. He took a long drag from the cigarette, watching. With his other hand, he lifted his pistol, but didn't aim it, showing it to the two. "Don't take another step, just yet, man. What are you looking for out here?" He squeezed his gun tightly. Elated to hear a response. He indicated with a thumb the body behind him. "If it's this guy, feel free to take a hike on down the road, there are more of his cult nearby."

He looked at the second man, seeing the fear in his eyes as Cid and his companion squared off. He decided to at least try to be a little kinder, hoping to not frighten these two men into another deadly encounter. He definitely didn't feel strong enough, after only minutes before fighting another man to the death, and something about the stance and eyes in the face of the Wolf told him that the man was sure to mercilessly kill him if only he gave him a reason to. "If you're hungry, I've got some soup inside. It's still warm, too." He said, not lowering the gun any further but hopefully implying he would if these two were friendly passerby. "Heheh, and hey, the only thing you'll eat, if you're Children like this fucker, is a bullet. Don't even think of trying to steal my shit either." He looked around, flicked his half-finished cigarette away, and waited for an answer.

Hopefully, his encounter with these three men today wouldn't mean a change in his regular, mostly solitary life. This was definitely the most people he'd seen in a day in months, and he scowled, remembering about a week ago when some sweet-looking girl had broken into his compound and almost made off with a bag full of his produce, only hours later he'd sent her off with some veggies for her 'and my friend back at the apartment.' Fuck it, he had more but the situation had made him tense since, and being attacked by that scout and now being accosted by these two mysterious men was pushing him. "What were you expecting to find here?" He said, slowly looking into the eyes of the Seer, oddly drawn by some sense of mystery.

Overgrown

I made a little reference to Amie. Lemme know if you want me to remove it, Matthias. She went looking for food and I'm one of the few people with a steady source of food (currently).

Overgrown

Fuck it, sorry. Swarley's probably waiting on me. I've been hella busy, but I'll try and sneak in at least a transitory post.
EDIT: Post almost done!

The Night Life

Is there a doorman/security-type yet? I'm somewhat interested.

Overgrown

Posting ASAP. Or something.

The Shadows of Aeios

OKAY. I'm finally back. Had to work door (and kill many 40s) for two shows this week :p Gonna respond to your post soon, Roran. Don't worry about responding.

The Shadows of Aeios

FUCK. First time in days where I've tried to access this thread and not gotten a 'too busy' warning from the site. Anyone else having this problem? I'll post a response tonight or earlier, sorry again about disappearing.

Overgrown

RiteousTurtle said
My character just ran into something, if anybody wants to interact now would be a good time. If not, I'll just say she ran into a tree. XD

The Noise did it!

Overgrown

Well that's one way to say "I need a weapon." Ow.

Overgrown

First, he felt his nose twitch. Slightly. A fog of suspicion crept through his face, tickling his senses all over. 'Cid bent over double, trying to calm down as the feeling of forced awareness of something he didn't even see struck him. Turning around, terribly slow, his eyes wandered over to the garden behind him, watching the grasses shift quietly in the wind. Something else. Nothing else? His hand found the gun again, cradled it. He got up from his seat, still silent, and took a few steps toward the edge of the roof, just six feet or so above the ground, roughly a little above his own height. "Anything else?" he said, quietly, to no one he could see. The gun was loosely dangling from his pale fingers as he kneeled down to peer into the long expanse of growing vegetables and wild grasses. Nothing yet.

And there he was, a man almost seemed to materialize among the edge of the plants, not moving but coming from somewhere within where he'd hidden himself. He was of medium height, very stocky and possessed of an eerie coldness one usually finds in military men or clergymen, possessed of higher purpose. The eyes of a man-killer, inhuman but almost absurdly so human. 'Cid's eyes widened as he and the intruder locked eyes, and then for a moment there was no communication or movement between the two as the man took another step forward, his angry eyes flashing. "Drui-" he began to say, reaching for something in a belt-holster. Cid leapt off the building like a maddened wolf, hands reaching out and legs back, and came to ground just before the man, landing on all fours and scrambling at the man with a feral shout. Interrupted so, the man almost dropped his handgun before bringing it back up...

There was a single shot, which missed and went wild as then Cid was on top of him, swinging his own pistol into the man's face. He swore and let out a strangled cry as it smashed into the side of his temple, stopping his defense immediately as he briefly lost sense of all but a brief overwhelming surge of pain. As they struggled, practically snarling at each other, audible to whoever was approaching, the man grabbed Cid's shoulders briefly before being beat back down with his arms eagle-wide. "You traitor! That He favored you so, ever, disgusts me now! You knew our mission was of justice, bastard!" He spit out the last words, a red-blackened gob smacking against Cid's collar. Another blow, another gasp of pain. More pain. A squeeze. "We all had our own missions to carry out, not all so easy to explain, you bitch." He said, humoring the wounded man. His voice seemed to blacken. The area around his eyes seemed darker, his pale skin and dark hair increasing in contrast as he looked down into the man's face and obscured the sun. Only trees around. "Enough of this, fucking die already." The man started to twist again, Cid reached with his right hand behind him to pull out his utility knife, raised it above his head and slammed it down into the man's eye. He screamed, horribly, and kept at it for about a second more before Cid got off of him and finished him off with a bullet in his chest. The man continued to stare in his direction, his gaze unfocused... There was no noise after the finality of the single shot he fired.

Grunting, as his visage returned to normal, emotionless and tired, Cid turned the man onto his side and then over. Visible on the back of his army jacket was a patch that he himself had carried before, a black spot inscribed in clean white letters. "We are special. We are perfect. We were born in the sight of God. Our suffering bodies will suffer no more. We are children of God" Disgusted at the sight, he bent over and pulled his knife out of the man's eye, only taking a moment to examine the man's rough features before turning back over face-down in the muck. He looked back at the words, remembering every time those words had been thrown at him by one of the Children's many grunts. Like they even fucking understood, he mused bitterly. He held the knife with both hands, and slashed across the writing, soiling them with blood.

He stood over the body now, looking down at it. With a hand whose long fingers were still dipped in mild blood, he withdrew a thin cigarette from his jacket pocket and lit it, feeling a shiver pass him again as he felt some feeling overtake him. What angel was coming down the path, visiting the green earth, and took away the flowers?