TheRedWatcher

Adolescent Heroes (Teen Titans Inspired)

Leaves - Today at 2:17 PM
That's just my sense from it. But overall, your character is accepted.

^Discord

-Character Index-

The Fate of Ward 8: A Tokyo Ghoul RP

&

&

Walking beside Travis, Kristian couldn’t peg him. Both chastising him earlier. But then again also lending him hospitality and a place to stay. He didn’t know whether he should be angry at Travis or should be glad because of Travis.

He didn’t really know what any of this meant right now. He didn’t like this uncertainty or the weakness he had shown earlier in the department store. What other cracks would begin to show? Was he scared of development? Of finding out who he really was. Not who someone wanted him to be.

He felt a sudden sense of unease. Kristian wasn’t so sure if he sensed the presence of another or if he was imagining things because he was already on edge. Looking around, somewhere, somewhere in the shadows? Maybe he was being paranoid. Maybe it was Him. To take him back.

“Travis someone is watching us,” Kristian calls out.
----
Travis looked back at Kristian and nodded, ”I know, c’mon let’s pick up the pace” Travis then looks forward and a drop of sweat runs down his forehead. I had no fucking idea we were being followed! Travis was now on edge. How long had this mystery person been following them, fuck it didn’t matter, he had to change his course.

If he brought a possibly hostile ghoul to his dealer he’d never be able to go there again. And Travis couldn’t afford something like that.
”So Kristian let’s try and get somewhere open. Then we could possibly talk to this person following us. And if we must, we’ll fight them.” Travis’ tone had changed to a worried but stern tone, he knew what he had to do but he wasn’t sure if he could pull it off.
----
Natsuya held onto a piece of shirt that had fallen from Travis’ torn clothes earlier. It was the only clue he had to the whereabouts about the boy, now dressed in pants and a simple shirt. And Travis himself. It didn’t take long for that boy to catch onto him, which only made Natsuya’s suspicions of him confirm his line of thinking.

Where did that boy come from? Why was he here? He was certainly far more interesting than the other child he was brought. But Natsuya wasn’t going to allow him to cry him a river of fake tears this time, even if it meant he had to implement a harsher lesson.
Natsuya bit the bottom of his lip. What the fuck was Alice thinking right now.

That dingy girl earlier, with less than impressive moves. This boy. Breaking someone possibly dangerous out of the Dove prison, bringing ruin to the very Ghouls she promised to protect. Right now he only felt frustration for being so left out of the dark of her thought process.
Listening and watching, he didn’t feel the need to stalk them any further. Instead he cut them off standing in front of them before they could get anywhere open.

“That won’t be necessary,” Natsuya told the both of them, “I had spent most the afternoon finding you. How I conduct my investigation is dependent on how satisfactory I find the answers given to me.”
----
Travis flinched when Natsuya landed in front of him and Kristian. Questions? What did he want to know? It didn’t matter, he was here now and he wasn’t leaving until he got answers, Travis could tell this much just by looking at him. ”What happens if we don’t want to answer the questions you ask?” Travis felt like he knew the answer, but he wanted confirmation of this guys intentions.
----
Natsuya narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side.

“You should know the answer to that,” Natsuya said, “That is a rhetorical question, because I’ll eliminate you both.”

Though there was something nagging him. The boy sensed him. Which meant he was not some low ranking Ghoul. He had power. How much? How strong was he that he managed to notice him?
----
Kristian scowled. It was just the man from earlier in the coffeeshop. Him and that Alice woman thought scary looks scared him. He wasn’t wetting himself just because someone gave him a dark glare. Instead Kristian just gave him a dark look back.

“You and that Alice lady, like scary words,” Kristian told Natsuya, “I don’t really listen well to shitheads who just talk big.”
----
Travis was mentally screaming fucking god dammit Kristian! Don’t fucking sass the dude that’s the kind of shit that starts fights! Travis rubbed the bridge of his nose. ”I… *sigh* What do you want? Please just ask your question, and forgive that last comment. He is new around here.” Travis was not sure how to handle this situation, on one had he had this rather threatening ghoul who want answers or blood, then there was Kristian. Travis was pretty sure Kristian just wanted blood. Things might get really ugly.
----
Natsuya continued his stare at the both of them. This boy had no sense of who he was either. Children these days spouted vulgar language like it was meant to be used in common language. Especially to an elder. He should tear a limb off for such an indiscretion to him. Once again Travis came to the boys aid, against him? Natsuya raised a brow at Travis remark.

“New around here he might be,” Natsuya told Travis, “But things do not stick right in my head. Firstly, look at your shoulder wound as evidence. That attack from the Chimera caused you serious damage. He escaped with barely a cut across his arm. Secondly, he’s the first out of the two of you to notice me. I am not some blind dumb fool who just let’s a stray come into my abode without some clarity. Are you an idiot Travis? Because you’re starting to look like one protecting something that doesn’t need protection.”
----
Fuck Travis was going to have to work really hard if he wanted to talk his way out of this one. ”I don’t doubt that he is able to defend himself. I just think it would be even better to avoid combat altogether. But anyway, what kind of question do you have for Kristian, he is standing right there. So ask them.” things didn’t feel as tense but he still had to make sure everyone stayed happy and non hostile. And this guy has some serious attitude.
----
Nastuya played with the tip of his fingernail, staring at Travis trying to navigate this scenario. So he was an idiot and a diplomat. The worse kind of diplomat. Natsuya looked at Kristian now.

“No fake tears, no childish antics,” Natsuya told him, “Where are you from?”
----
Natsuya they called him, was correct on somethings. Kristian could tell him and Alice were powerful Ghouls in this city. Not that scared him much, but he was here for their protection. If he completely pushed them away he might lose that opportunity. Travis could barely take down a Chimera, but Natsuya and Alice. He needed them at least for his safety.

There were just things he couldn’t say for his own safety though too. He didn’t know how well Alice and Natsuya would be able to protect him from that place. Or if they would find out, and bring him back to that place.

How could he tell an honest lie? One that would not send this man on a kill order? He was good at acting or manipulating people, that was easy. But how could he avoid saying nothing with saying something? Kristian frowned.

“I admit my previous statement was a little overreacting, but” Kristian paused, “What I said was the truth. I am an orphan. My parents abused me. Isn’t that good enough? You really should give people the benefit of the doubt.”
----
Natsuya raised a brow at Kristian. Still going with that story?

“I already gave Travis the reasons why I cannot find that answer possibly real,” Natsuya told the boy, “Travis is an idiot. And you seem to think I am an idiot. You do not behave like an abused boy. If you want a story, should probably do more research.”
Natsuya gives Travis a look.

“With that said you haven’t killed Travis,” Natsuya replies, “I came here to kill you if you did not give me real answers. I cannot trust an individual who has everything to hide. What would you tell me to convince me not to?”
----
Kristian stared at the guy in the odd clothing. He really was arrogant and really thought highly of himself didn’t he? Well Kristian could play that game too. So he gave Natsuya a smile and did a little excited hop, with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Because I’d kill you before you had the chance to kill me,” Kristian told him.
----
Travis groaned as Kristian announced he would kill Natsuya before he had the to kill him. Was that really needed, sure the dude was a grade A egotist but was poking the bear really the best thing to do at this point? Travis was worried again, Kristian looked like he had it under control but this dude wasn’t satisfied, he wanted answers right now.

Even if Kristian didn’t want to talk about it. He must have thought so highly of himself that other people feelings didn’t matter, this really pissed of Travis. Unfortunately for him this guy was also a very powerful ghoul who might just kill the fuck out of him.
Travis clenched his fists behind his back, why was power given to all the wrong people? All of the strong people in the world never seemed to deserve the status assigned to them by the world. Only on rare occasion was power rightfully bestowed upon someone.

This world was unfair and Travis was now in a situation where that unfairness might end in his death. This dude was a massive asshole who saw others as bugs, and to him he could easily step on them and kill them. Even if it was just for looking at him. The thought made Travis sick.
----
Natsuya was cautious. There was no hesitation in how the boy responded to him. The very fact he came toe to toe with a Chimera with barely a scratch. The very fact he had sensed him long before he was to make his presence alone.

And the assured confidence in his answer meant the kid had called his bluff. It wasn’t that Natsuya didn’t think he couldn’t kill this kid, but there was a slight chance he couldn’t. Or a slight chance he could with serious injury to himself.

Travis silence finally meant he understood his place in this discussion. Still this boy seemed too confident that he could kill him, him of all people, that he was beginning to realize that this was not the path to take. He didn’t believe he was abused. Kristian didn’t peg him as the type of person to have been abused, he didn’t have the mannerisms.

He did believe though Kristian had the intent to defend with lethality if he attacked them. Natsuya surveyed the both of them.

“While I do not believe your story of abuse,” Natsuya told him, “Your emotions were fake in the cafe. And even now I see nothing on your face or your behavior that would show that. You will be surveyed.” Natsuya turned to Travis.

“Travis, was it?” Natsuya asked.
----
Travis gritted his teeth as he was addressed, he was so mad but he had to put that aside for now. Sending a wave of insults at this guy wouldn’t help the current situation. ”Yeah, that’s my name.” Travis was mad but it would be well masked, he’d hidden his anger before. People didn’t like being yelled at if they screwed up at work, so Travis had to learn to keep it cool.

”You got a question for me too?”
----
Natsuya took a second to take out his fan from his obi, he opened it and then closed it. A habit of his to relax.

“No,” Natsuya replied dryly, “Instead I have orders for you. By my authority, you will report to me every day Kristian’s whereabouts, the things that have been done, everything. You want to be part of this group, I have to know I can trust the both of you. This is your test. One has already proven they are a liar. Now let’s see if you can prove yourself to me. You took him under your wing I presume, so continue doing so. He is your responsibility. I’ll allow leniency depending on how well you both behave in my eyes.”
----
”So, you need my phone number for that? It’d make things a lot easier.” Travis spoke in a slightly steadier tone, but it was probably clear he was upset. His face tone didn’t hold any anger but his face very much showed his distaste with the situation.
----
Kristian frowned. He was not a pet. He wasn’t something someone could just keep on a leash. That was. That was. Why he left that place. Why was Travis going along with it? Travis had come to his rescue when he was lying, now he’s just accepting this man’s terms.
He did not want to be imprisoned again.

“You can’t do that,” Kristian called out, “I am not going to let you do that Travis. You’re not going to watch me all day and restrict what I can do. I make my own choices and report to no one when I do.”

Because he was suppose to be free now.
----
Natsuya snapped his fan close.

“You think I’d allow you to roam free after telling me you’d kill me first?” Natsuya asked, “You ask a lot from strangers. To trust you. Despite your lies. To let you roam free. Despite the malice in your eyes. You ask a tall order from people.”

Natsuya doesn’t expect an answer from Kristian, as he has already made up his mind on the decision.

“Yes, your number would be serviceable,” Natsuya said, no longer entertaining Kristian to converse with him.
----
Travis was again in a tight spot, he couldn’t try and make a plan with Kristian because Natsuya was right there. And he wasn’t sure how Kristian would take him handing over the phone number, this situation was now at a breaking point. He turned to Kristian.
”Look Kristian, there is only two ways this situation can go at this point. Either I give him my number or a fight breaks out, and I don’t know about you but I don’t want to make a scene. And if I wasn’t useless enough before now I have this shoulder wound. Just trust me on this one, and if you dislike the deal after say, two days then we reconvene and alter the deal then. Sound good?”

He looked up at Natsuya briefly with that “give me a moment” face.
----
Kristian scowled at Travis. Two days. He had tasted freedom. Walked the city. Made his own rules. Survived on his own. They said they were there for all Ghoul kind, but this guy Natsuya was just an oppressor. And Travis wanted him to go along with this deal. He was not a stray puppy. He was not a prisoner. He was never going to be controlled by another person again.

He did it before. It couldn’t be any different from then, could it? He shoved Travis a little, not very hard.

“Fuck you,” Kristian told him, “I am not to be kept.” Kristian only half glanced at Natsuya, “None of you care about your own kind. Else you wouldn’t be putting them through such hoops. You don’t want to keep other Ghouls safe.”

Kristian scowled.

“I’ll do it by myself, like I have been,” Kristian turned on his heel and meant to run off.
----
A tail wrapped around the boys ankle tripping him.

“I’d like you in my sights,” Natsuya said, “Number Travis.”
----
Travis seped between the two. ”Hey! let him go. You’re taking this shit too far.” Travis hoped that this guy had a shred of sense and would let the kid go, Travis never really intended to give Natsuya information about Kristian but he couldn’t have just said that out loud. This was Travis’ last hope at avoiding a conflict.
----

“I tripped him,” Natsuya said with a shrug of his shoulders holding onto the ankle, “Do you want to see what too far is? I can demonstrate for you.”
Natsuya glared.

----
Landing with a thud he was being held down by this man’s tail. Kristian tried to get up off the floor, seeing Travis between the two of them he was beginning to only feel boiling rage.

Get up.
Kill them both.
Rip them apart.
Why are you lying on the floor?
You are meant to kill them. Ghouls like them.
But he’s defending me.
Oh don’t be a baby like you always are
Don’t make excuses
Do It!
Kill!
Kill them!

Kristian growled under his breath as his eyes turned and he shot out his thorns. A blooming rose behind his back.

“Fuck you,” Kristian said again, though all that childish demeanor from Kristian had seemed to fade from him at this point, “I told
you. If you tried to kill me. I’d kill you first!”

No Hope, No Glory, No Problem - A No More Heroes RP

@BCTheEntity

Analyzing the situation Vincent wondered how some had made it through without dying. The man who loudly announced his presence to the barkeep, strong looking, muscular man. The first masked individual he met and their inattentiveness. Someone could have taken advantage of that situation.

The pretty boy who had currently walked up to everyone like some desperate attention seeking puppy.
The female he met, albeit masked, considering her interaction with said pretty boy she didn’t seem too trusting of others. While she might be more skilled than some of them, he worried what such distrust could mean for her future achievements.

He didn’t like underestimating people, but he also didn’t like to give them more credit than what they were worth. Worth. Like placing price tags on the value of a human life as if he knew any better than the toymaker themselves. Price was an arbitrary payment for life. No one could estimate the amount of value you’d get out of your own play time.

Sipping on his apple juice Vincent sighed as the bar doors were kicked open. It’s like these people wanted to be killed on the spot. As they did a dramatic pose, and began over exaggerated gestures, like blood splattering and posing.
Vincent saw many openings, he was impressed on the groups restraint. He didn’t know how long he could watch a man with white hair in a coat do as many melodramatic movements and convince himself why he was of any use alive.

Was this a talent show? Or an important meeting he wondered. Perhaps they were going to get rated by their next dramatic introductions. Except stylish had never been Vincent’s specialty. All though with people on the roofs, loud mouth muscular men, people in Nazi costumes, people in mask, when they were called over Vincent asked for another apple juice.

Walking over to the table he handed to the black man ,who had commanded them over, the boxed apple juice.

“It’s on me,” Vincent told him.

Hopefully this was acceptably flashy enough for them.

The Fate of Ward 8: A Tokyo Ghoul RP

@BCTheEntity@Gardevoiran@AngelofOctober

She was showing her off her muscles and looking determined. Her eyes wide and sparkly. Smiling bright she flipped her brown hair and looked at Yuno.

“Thank you, I am a master choreographer after all,” she said posing cutsey. Than she watched as Grant on the phone. She smiled sweetly at Katashi for a second. First her heart screamed a little as she heard Grant's phone play one of her songs. He really was a fan. Her injured prince truly had a tender side.

Then heard the news that Ketsu, Yuno, and Grant had to leave. She looked a little sad, but she smiled.

“Well it was nice meeting all of you,” she pauses, “And I look forward to our double date Mr. Wesley.”

♠♥♣♦ Welcome to Wonderland (CLOSED FOR NEW REBOOT) ♢♧♡♤

WIP- Need History

Thomas Nathan Gardner ft. Spike the Dog

“If it were up to me we would have never met under these circumstances”

Age: 25
Spike: 7 and senile
Gender: Both Male

There’s a problem, a mutt is talking human and a human is barking like a dog. Something not quite ordinary about this group. Perhaps the fact that handsome, 25 year old, Thomas Nathan Gardner might have swapped bodies with his mother’s dog Spike. The 5’7”, 170 Cm, 120lbs, 54kg man is currently inhabited by the personality of his mother’s dog Spike.

Thomas for Real

Personality:

There are a lot of things Thomas can take in stride. He has always been the type of person to roll with the punches and not take things seriously. He has the patience of a saint his mother would say. He’s always been unnerving calm. To the point that some people meet him with suspicion because of how calm he is.
Actually that’s the irony of Thomas’ rather roll with the punches attitude, is that most people don’t necessarily trust him. They look at him with suspicion and mistrust. Despite Thomas not really being the type of person to lie. He has a glaring ability of being open and honest, even somewhat vulnerable to the point where some people feminize him.

It doesn’t help that he can be somewhat flamboyant and effeminate in nature. But he still likes woman. He just has hobbies that people would otherwise label him as a homosexual or trying to be a woman. Neither of which he really wants. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t struggle sometimes with being identified as a feminine man and being masculine or being taken as a man.
Thomas does have a temper. Being as patience and tolerant as he is, when his fuse is finally lit he goes off and it’s not the type of anger he can control. Being as tolerant as he is, when he finally blows its often his last straw.

He likes emotional movies, likes experience the joys and the romance of the characters. He likes the look of high designer fashion, in which he himself tends to like design on his spare time. Artistic and always creative he often strives for the next big challenge. People have known him to not be the type of person to finish projects, but he has been a successful local playwright in his home town of Nowhere, Kansas.

He likes good movies, that quiet time when everyone is asleep and he can sit and write. He likes a good joke, and likes to make friends. He dislikes Spike for a number of reasons, he dislikes his ex girlfriends for a number of reasons it variant depending on the woman. And he tends to hate gross smells, spiders, and scary movies.

No Hope, No Glory, No Problem - A No More Heroes RP

&

Vincent continued to watch the woman in the mask. The young man with lavender eyes made a Back to the Past remark. He admitted to himself it was funny. He smirked. Though bland conversation, breathless, wasteful didn’t really suit him.

Standing up and excusing himself silently to the two with a nod of his head. He walked up to the female in the mask.

“....” Vincent stared at her at a much closer range now.
[Greetings]

Allison looked the man up and down slowly, nodding her head. Eyes could say more than mouths ever wished to. “Mhmm. Hello. You're far more interesting than the last.”

She meant the young man with lavender eyes. Vincent didn’t move. Still. Statuesque.

“He’s youthful,” Vincent replied, “Your name? The one you’re comfortable with introducing yourself as.”

”The Heretic,” Allison said simply. ”I'd say more, but this isn't the place for other names. Yourself?”

“Chroma, for now,” Vincent replies, he just gives Jo a look who is behind the counter. Jo knows that look and hands him another juice box.

”I like it. I like you. I sincerely hope we don't have to kill each other.”

Vincent takes a sip of his apple juice. He’s not sure like is what he feels right now. Curiosity. Interest.

“....” Vincent continues to stare.
[I’d like to get to know you as well]

Allison smiled under the mask. She did hope that they weren't meant to duke it out. She rather liked this stranger.

”Yes, yes,” she murmured as a strangely militaristic looking woman with vibrant hair walked in and ordered… Something. Sounded German. Allison cocked her head to the side before continuing. ”So, mind if I call ya C?”

Vincent eyed the German for a second. He had mixed feelings about them. He turned back to Heretic.

“Yes,” Vincent replied, “Chrome or Chroma.”

”Noted,” she murmured. ”I hope things get started soon…”

Vincent didn’t know what they were starting. It seemed unusual, didn’t it? He’d expect a death match in an arena, not a bar.

No Hope, No Glory, No Problem - A No More Heroes RP

@Old Amsterdam@Gardevoiran

Navy. Things that went with navy. Jeans. Indigo dye. Distracted by her phone. Youth these days. He drank a little bit of the apple juice. Alcohol, he never liked it to begin with, but something about it these days really bothered him at times.

He had a tried time absorbing it in his system anyway, he had to opt out of marinara on his pizza for the same reason as pepperoni. Thus the olives and mushrooms were a better choice.

Watching her text. Fingers like a violinist. Slender. Fingers like spider legs crawling across the smartphone. She finally addressed him. For a second he had forgotten he had addressed her. Someone on the roof?

He didn’t feel like replying. Prefered the silence.

“....” Vince just stared at the navy haired female.
[Good marketing strategy]

His eyes met with someone else with a mask staring at him. Was this a costume party or a meeting of assassins he wondered?

No Hope, No Glory, No Problem - A No More Heroes RP

@Gardevoiran

Chinese takeout. Pizza boxes. Couch has burn marks on it. Been chewed at one of the ends by one of the puppies. Coffee table split in half. Put back together with another piece of wood a different color than the sandalwood, darker.

Clothes on the floor. Who left their bra here? A bong on the windowsill. Some hippie blanket with that man with dreads looking down at them like a picture of Jesus. He didn’t believe in Jesus, but he found it appropriate.

Opening the fridge. How many days old was all these containers? He found last nights pizza. Cheese, olive and mushrooms. A pile of blankets on the couch began to stir. A big black guy emerged from a cocoon. He looks towards the kitchen. His black beady eyes catch Vincent’s much colder eyes.

“What time is it?” he ask Vincent.

Vincent just points to the clock on the oven. Before grabbing out a slice of pizza. Santiago gives him a bit of glare, but Vincent doesn’t care as he puts back his pizza. He had errands to run today.

“That late,” Santiago says.

“I,” Vincent began while finding a paper plate, “will be going out. If you find time among gangin’ and bangin’.” he gave a stray eye towards the bra hanging on the TV, “Clean up before I get back.”

Taking out a bag of dog food, a scrappy puppy with no cybernetic alterations came running into the kitchen. Mutts were always obedient and well behaved. They tended to have the balance of all the species in their blood which made their temperament demonstrably more tolerable.

Santiago looked around and scratched the back of his buzzed cut hair. They were splitting the cost of rent. He was the one currently making a lot more than Santiago and Santiago begged him to do so. They had a bond since he took over the warehouse.

“Shit man,” Santiago said, “Why do I have to clean it?”

Vincent only opened the refrigerator and pointed to his pizza box, then closed the door. Santiago groans.

“Fair enough you already cleaned up,” Santiago says, “I just do not know how it gets this bad.”

“Inviting Jaun, Charletta, Ruby, Tuesday and Friday,” Vincent says dryly.

Also part of the Steel Siders.

Santiago looks embarrassed.

“Yeah I guess you have a point,” Santiago tells him, “I’ll tell them to cleanup after themselves a bit better. Tired of looking broke.”

Vincent raises a brow, but says nothing. Bending down to pet Sam as he wolfs down food before he walks out of the kitchen. He says nothing else. He never understood the importance of small talk. It was a way to waste breath about dreams, aspirations, and goals. Instead of setting out to do it. Then people cry about that. Not completing their dreams, or whatever it may be. Perhaps because you spent too much time talking about it.

He didn’t mind the city. Personally he still preferred New York over California. Cities were small and had no grandiosity about them. New York always had a design that reminded him of rich people trying to fight over who had more. Taller buildings, more architecturally beautiful buildings, more lights, more flourishes.

Until you had an oversize city built on the backs of immigration facing gentrification because some multimillionaire decided to play Legos with the city. That’s why he liked New York over California, maybe he was bias though because he had grown up close to New York that it was a trip away. Spent some time there. Glittering. Dazzling. Busy cities. With people like a dirty apartment.

Scattered. Wondering where they were from. Who they came from. Why they came. Like pizza boxes on a coffee table and on the floor. Who left it here. Why wasn’t it put up. Does the apartment look like a trashcan?

California was smaller. It didn’t have the veracity that New York had. California was about the people. Leading way into progressive attitudes. It showed. Environmental when some multimillionaire pushed for something disgusting. Melting. People all strewn together like a dirty apartment and no one bothered to say get back where you belong. Not that he believed that.

People could be wherever they wanted to be. They were all immigrants in the end of the day. As long as you weren’t blowing anything up, you were fine in his eyes. But that’s not what the rich people would say. They’d use the excuse of their ethnicity to justify kicking them out of their homes, schools, and cities they built to flourish.

The ghetto was a wonderfully dark place. There was fear. Yet there was comfort. He stopped though when a car backfired. He scanned the streets. Staring down a yellow bug. He continued on his way of interpersonal exploration of cities. This is what people missed when they were blazing down the streets. The minute details.

The cracks in the sidewalk. The weeds popping up. Spreading their roots like human anatomy. Veins of the streets. Talking about flying past, he saw a purple car blur past, going way beyond a safe speed. He ducked into an alleyway. He liked to call them cat streets. They were where the unseen wanted to be. Also a lot of stray cats and dogs wondered by.

Squeezed between two buildings. Winding labyrinth of gang signs interspersed carefully along the alleyway quadrants. He finally made it to where his destination needed to be, some young worker was taking out a black garbage bag. An opportunity for him to snag the door before it fully closed and locked him out. Slinking into the back of the Dirty Babe bar Vincent was greeted by fluorescent lighting.

Someone drops a garbage bag at his feet. Vincent looks up to a towering man of muscles, dark skin, Hispanic mixed with some other ethnicity. Jo from one of the Crimson West, his day job.

“I keep telling you to use the front door,” Jo tells him.

Vincent just gives him a look. Jo sighs.

“Make it look like you used the restroom or something,” Jo tells him.

Vincent isn’t inclined to do so. Front doors were dangerous. Saw an unsuccessful breech once. Kid who came in was lit up like a Christmas tree. Personal destruction. Others would tell him he’s been overly paranoid. No sense of paranoia when his job is what it is now.

Stepping more inside the bar. He does a quick scan. Female, mask, black hair, with a young man, black hair, lavender eyes. Female navy hair, navy hair? Scar on face. Vincent smiled. Man with a box with a face. Several people in suits. This was an operation than. Or so he assumed with all the key details being given.

He supposed he should “mingle”. Sitting down next to the girl with navy hair he doesn’t say anything at first. The bartender noticed him, and walks up to him.

“Juice,” Vincent says quietly, the bartender looks nervous at how straightforward he said it, sitting next to this woman.

“Right, I heard about you, we ran out of apple juice bottles, you don’t mind a juice box?” the bartender asked, “Jo told me to go get it.”

“No,” Vincent said accepting the Tree Canopy apple juice box before looking at the woman with Navy Hair, “Interesting choice of location. Isn’t it?” he asked her. While poking the straw through the thin aluminum.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

@Spiffy@AngelofOctober

HemoGoblin

First order of business would to cleanup Denver, especially the more shit looking neighbors. When their efforts were met and their merit paid off, he’d make every city look decent. Chicago would stop looking like a wretched mess because some shit with extra money decided the neighborhood didn’t need nice things. Everything would look architecturally beautiful. Leave it up to Art, and he’d have every city be enviro friendly.

Turn the lights off by 8pm, if you’re taking a shower it shouldn’t run more than 5 to 6 minutes. No one in their goddamn right mind takes a 5 to 6 minute shower. He ignored his odd carbon footprint rules, sometimes, if he could escape them.

But he bet Art’s future had gardens on the rooftops, and buildings that allowed wind to pass through. More aerodynamic. Sun powered cars and so and so forth. Not that he had a problem with any of those ideas. He had a problem when it haunted him and his way of life.

Yes, this is what he was thinking about walking the beat. Because he wasn't the one with big elaborate plans. Sure he threw in his thoughts and two cents. But Art was better at the big planning, while he was good at the marketing side of things.

As he continued to walk the block without much interaction, he was beginning to realize that if he went any further the damn radios wouldn’t work. No the first thing they needed was better tech once they started getting the connections they needed.

A sudden explosion distracted him from his thoughts. Shit. Well at least their first day out was going to be eventful. Quickly doubling back and running, he found the alleyway marked with the Meat Space that they had split off from. He continued running till he took the corner Art had taken.

Finally he found Art standing to another individual and the sounds of pew pew lasers in a building close by. Running to the two of them and catching his breath for a second, “What a run.” he said “I just love taking long runs through the ghetto.”

He turns to Affliction.

“Who’s the new friend?” he asked, then turns to the man smoking, “HemoGoblin, Master of the Fabulous.” he says with a bit of a laugh.

No Hope, No Glory, No Problem - A No More Heroes RP

Sir Roger James Ellington-Theodore

Code Name: Zimbo; sometimes T. Zimbo or Timothy Zimbo

"Magic is a fickle beast. Even if you think you have tamed it's wild nature. One day it may eat your face and your neighbors start to smell your putrefaction,"

Zimbo's Shop

Lower Floor

Welcome

Downstairs when you walk into the old antique shop, you will be greeted by a fairly beautiful woman. She will tell you that downstairs is where you'll find all your incense, ingredients, candles, stones, and other item. Books and spells are up the stairs, she points to a staircase and says she can help you find anything you like.

Upper Floor

Spells and Incantations

Upstairs is a clutter of spellbooks in a small narrow attic like area. In the back is a file cabinet of quick spells written on single sheets of paper all alphabetized.

About:

Zimbo has always been a controversial man. Whenever his name comes up its usually a polarizing vision of him. Some admire him, some say he is an elder when it comes to magical competency. While others, namely the Bullseye Manager and Regional manner see his odd looking store in the same shopping center as them as an eyesore. They see his shop as a tourist attraction. Only thing is no one can tear down his shop because it's been protected historically.

Zimbo himself always appears as if he has a few screws loose. Some say its dementia. He's either taken a few volts to the head. Or he is showing signs of his real age mentally. No one really knows and that's how Zimbo likes it. Even if people managed to discover his real name, he'd doubt they find anything on him. He has little of a paper record. Though he has been tied down to many connections with the occult and different groups.

His name has crept up a few times tied to rituals and seances in homes. Some say he's a snake oils man, a scammer. But Zimbo has the charisma and energy of a ringmaster when selling. And the knowledge of a Sage when he is teaching. Competent and also someone the UAA both respects and fears.

Special Techniques:

Shape Change -

There's a rule in Zimbo's shop. Thieves will not be tolerated in any form. It seems whatever Zimbo finds valuable has a curse placed upon it. The curse can transform a thief into any animal form at random. This form last a minute, but it can be quite the deterrent for some. Others need a more aggressive lesson.

With that said Zimbo is quite the skilled spell caster. He goes back to more traditional roots with somnatic casting that requires proper incantations, but it makes his spells quite powerful. He has been spell crafting and spell slinging for years. How many years, it's hard to tell.

Hevn Ellington-Theodore

A Magician's Assistant

To be honest most people do not know if Hevn is Zimbo's wife or how she even relates to all of this. Despite possessing magical capabilities, she is in fact not quite as skilled as anyone. Many of her spells backfire, her handwriting is messy and she ends up messing up very simple incantations. It doesn't help that Zimbo's type of casting is somnatic and this red bomb shell has a stutter. Some words just prove challenging for her to say.

She's not quite powerful, she's not quite terrifying or intimidating. She doesn't quite have the presence Zimbo has. But! She is far more organized than he is. The lower floor is only clutter free because of her. The one time use spells are only alphabetical because of her.

Her relationship with Zimbo is questionable to the outside observer. They aren't quite affection, in fact they don't even really speak with each other like a married couple. She could just be his sister. But they don't act like relatives either. They behave more married than siblings. But behave enough sibling to question the legitimacy of their affairs.

Either way Hven is a lovely assistance.