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Sins of the Elements IC (New and Improved!); Search and Destroy.
Topic Started: May 5, 2011, 2:09 pm (3,563 Views)
Blue
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The Token Australian
(Just a little side note: For this post alone, I need to place some of your characters in the scene; specifically Greed, Wrath and Sloth. I won't control them in any way, I'll just be making it clear that they are with Pride.

In addition, I noticed that a couple of the new players didn't specify where their characters lived, so when I talk about them in the post, they will be set in a random location somewhere in the U.S.

I apologise if anyone has any problems with this.)

Callsign: Pride
Location: Standing outside the recently rediscovered Sanctum of the Seven Heavenly Spirits, now the HQ for the Brotherhood of The Seven Sins; The Void.
Status: Receiving Orders from the Spirits.

The boy stood by outside his new home, watching the Sun begin to rise on a new day. He could feel all the symbolism waste itself on him; he'd never been one for that sort of thing. He had much more important things to spend his time doing. In the immediate area, the first half of his "family" stood by, all awaiting their next order. The child relished in the fact that he'd been made their Leader, almost considering the irony of the situation amusing. Almost. Pride... Pride. Pride! The voices echoed inside the young child's head, ranging from a faint whisper to a rather loud screech. Any other child would've been driven mad by now. But this boy was certainly not like any other child. "Yes, Masters.." He responded quickly and reverently, respectful of the only beings in the Universe who held any sort of power over his own. Well... for now anyway.

"What are our orders?" he spoke aloud, as though he were talking to the voices as if those who owned them were standing before him. If the others had picked up on his sudden striking up of a conversation, they were being rather sneaky about it. Suddenly, the voices started up again, each sentence being recited by a different voice, as though there were a rehersal for a play going on in the boy's head. The rest of your Family awaits your Leadership, Pride... It is up to you, your Brothers Greed and Wrath, and your Sister Sloth to seek them out and adopt them into the Brotherhood. "Yes Masters." Pride repeated, nodding his head once. The Spirits continued on for a while after that, relaying the names and locations of each of the chosen Candidates and what Sin they were most guilty of.

In return, the Boy simply took in all the information, soaking it all up like a sponge. When the briefing was over, the Spirits spoke a final time. Do not let us down, Pride. It is not in the cards for you, nor the family we've provided for you. Consequences will be dealt out accordingly. The child felt his head throb for that moment, and he applied slight pressure to his temples. "We shall not fail you, My Masters. The Brotherhood is eternally loyal to you." With that, the beginnings of an oncoming headache disappeared, and the whispers disappeared to the deep recesses of his mind, ready to come again once the orders had been completed.

Taking in a deep breath, Pride turned his back on the sunrise and faced his incomplete Family. Whenever he looked at them, he saw a rather interesting future. Where the journey would lead them all was anyone's guess. They were all simply along for the ride on this one. No stopping for any reasons, and no room for error. Everything would be done perfectly. "Alright." The kid's voice called out for the attention of his Sinful Siblings. "The time has come for us to complete our Brotherhood. I know that we've not had much time to get aquainted, but we do at least know each other's new names, so for the time being, we'll be making do with what we've got." The boy's natural leading instinct was cleary prominent in his words.

"In addtion, we will now be splitting up to go in search of the rest of our Family. Find them, give them the Ultimatum and if they so choose to join us, bring them back here and wait for further instruction. As for transport, there is an airport 17 miles south-west of here. That's how you'll get around." Pride took a few steps closer to his Brothers and Sister. They all looked like rather capable beings; whether it was really the case remained to be seen. "Sloth." said the boy sternly, though his voice was only barely able to pull off that type of tone. "You are to find our Brother, Gluttony. His name is Benjamin Anthony Boivin, resides somewhere in California. Go." Pride had never been one to beat around the bush; always straight down to business.

Next up was Wrath. The Leader didn't particularly like the look of this one. The eyes were a bit too much for him to handle. "Your target is Envy. Her name is Grace Roberts and she lives in Virginia. Recently broke out of an Asylum for the clinically insane. You should enjoy that. Go." ordered the boy. He loved the feeling of telling someone what to do; it made him feel so alive. "And finally, we have Greed." the child's purple eyes flashed across to meet those of his Avaricious Brother's. "You and I are going a little bit further than the States." he grinned deviously, having a hunch that this brother would enjoy himself on this trip.

"Our target is Lust. Her name is Tiffanie Marquisa, and very well known in the the city of Paris, France, of all places. It is believed that she is the most desired woman in all the World, which is why I chose to bring you along for this particular mission. If I'm correct, you'll do anything to have this one right by your side." Pride was a child, sure enough. But he was certainly not an innocent little kid who was blind to the sometimes gruesome realities of the world. Being a prodigy, he'd learned a lot about a great deal of things, and conveniently enough, sexual attraction and sex itself were a couple of those things. Though it was rather impossible for him to feel anything related to such a topic, he more than understood the "mechanics" behind everything.

"So, shall we head for the airport then..?" he stared at his Brother with a face lacking any and all traces of expression before turning towards the rising sun one more time. "I'd very much like to get moving right away."

'Friends will come and go, but you're stuck with your Mates forever."
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Juicesir
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Sexy Shoeless God of Something
"Bitch, fuck you! I'm not even that drunk!" The words twisted and slurred themselves across Ben's lips, spewing out of his mouth and doing nothing to prove his innocence. She told him to get out, that he was out of it and she couldn't deal with it. Yeah, he'd been drinking again. So what? He wasn't that drunk. Naw, in fact this was about the most sober he'd been in months! So why did she, his girlfriend, his dearest... sweet... Christ, what was her name? He decided to test the waters.

"Listen, Amanda, it doesn't have to be th-"

So her name was Jessica. Wow, he didn't even know how he'd been so far off. It didn't help that she was now screaming it at him. Jesus his ears were ringing with it now, he wouldn't be able to forget it. He spread his hands out in front of him, palms down, in a gesture that was meant to try and get her to calm down.

"Listen. Jessica. It doesn't have to be like this, baby. I just came over to share some breakfast with you. It's no big deal or anything." Ben often returned to his girlfriend's houses depending on the quality of the meals they usually served. Jessica by far had the best breakfast, and Cierra was gonna be lunch today. He'd have to choose between Allison and that one black chick he'd been with last night. It was honestly a draw between those two. But that was a decision for later. Right now, this needed to be breakfast.

Jessica wouldn't have it. She said she was seeing someone else. How could she! It'd only been two weeks since he last saw her, and she was already moving on? Jesus people could be shallow.

"You're seeing someone already?" Ben tried shaking the thought out of his head. "Well I won't be here long, let's just go out and catch some breakfast then for old times sake!" And then he came to the door. The guy had glasses on and looked like he'd cave in and buy a mini-van the moment he had a serious girlfriend. What was this shit?

"What is this shit?" Ben usually spoke his mind, and now was a time for it. Richard, as his name came to be, was her new boyfriend, and don't worry Rich, Ben was just on his way out. No need to worry.

"No need to worry? NO NEED TO WORRY? You don't see me, your boyfriend, for like two weeks and you hook up with some office bitch and think you can just turn me away. Fuck you, I'm getting breakfast." It was the most important meal of the day, and he wasn't about to let it pass. Jessica made great pancakes, he was sure there were some just inside.

The little bitch of a man tried to get in his way. He said something big, like he was in some sort of movie. Ben blew his lips, making a buzzing noise that sounded like a drowning bee would make. He dropped the fucker. Just one solid punch to the temple. The guy didn't even see it coming. Bam, and he was down for the count. Ben sidestepped over the poor crumpled bitch of a man and, Jessica screaming about her poor Dick, Ben made his way to her dining room.

Sure enough, there they were. Partially eaten, but it'd do. She used this syrup that was absolutely delicious. Ben thought it might be apricot, but he couldn't quite be sure. Maybe he'd ask her. Looking back towards the door, he figured he'd be asking at a much later date. Grabbing the pancakes in one hand, he went to the fridge. He'd always enjoyed Jessi's class. Always beer in the fridge. He slipped one out of the box on the bottom shelf and, pancakes and booze in hand, he headed for the entrance to depart. Some syrup dripped off the pancakes onto poor Dickie's glasses.

She seemed to be in some sort of shock, and Mr. Dick was just barely stirring. "Thanks for breakfast, Jess. Next time, leave little Dick out of it. Later!" Stepping down the steps, he took a bite of the pancakes, before the syrup entirely dripped of them. And, walking down the L.A. street, Jessi now screaming after him, he departed, a contented smile playing around his syrup stained lips.
Edited by Juicesir, May 6, 2011, 11:08 pm.
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Jei Ai
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Fire filled her lungs. She sucked deeply, her moist lips curled tenderly around the source of her pleasure, as she pressed it to her mouth. Her polished fingers held it lovingly, and as she drew it inward, the woman found herself moaning softly. The large, luscious lips of her insatiable body willingly took in the warmth that followed, closing her eyes to enjoy the rush. Releasing her lips to exhale, the fire seemed stained upon her skin, creeping outwards from her mouth. Slowly opening her eyes to reveal precious garnets, the woman curled her tongue across her teeth, tasting what remained. She swallowed slowly before tilting her head back to look into the night. In her hand, the cigarette continued to burn, leaking smoke that wisped across her vision before soaring off into the stars.

Distantly, the saucy sounds of the burlesque underworld filled the air, mixed with chatter, laughter and the inevitable raucous of shared pleasures. Girls teasing bachelors and married men alike with girlish giggles and exotic dancing, men wolf-whistling and howling like animals as their manhood stiffened at the sight, screeching trumpets and the cacophony of drums as they clanged along in excitement. And high above it all, on a blackened stone and velvet-draped balcony, stood the queen of this after-dark kingdom. She flicked the mahogany cigarette holder in her fingers – a gift from a rather devoted client – and allowed the ambers to fall upon her world, swirling to the pebble stone street below. Returning her gaze to eyelevel, the queen of the night watched steadily as Paris came to life.

Though the promise of the night was intoxicating for her fellow femmes, their queen remained rather dormant amidts it all. Inside her there raged a different kind of fire to the one in her hand, and it ebbed in the depths of her very soul, manifesting in a throbbing heat beneath her pelvis. It was no longer uncomfortable for the woman, but it burned constantly nonetheless. Indeed she’d had a rather satisfying appointment the previous night, but it seemed no longer to matter how often it occurred. While she remained alone, clothed, covered and inactive, the fire burned. She craved the heat, the passion, the sweat, the urge, the climax of her profession, and while she remained without it she could only stew. A gentle sigh escaped across her lips, and she could almost hear the growing hunger calling for her to return to the hot, sticky reprieve.

“Madame Tiffanie?” A quiet, girlish voice called from behind her. “Zere iz a gentleman ‘ere to see you.” The queen nodded softly in reply though didn’t turn, and the corset-donned girl curtseyed before leaving hastily. She could only hope he could match her price.
Edited by Jei Ai, May 6, 2011, 8:33 am.
Posted Image
'You were a happy dream in a life that's been nothing but a hellish nightmare'

Tiffanie 'Lust' Marquisa, the Femme Fatale: OOC
Sa’ritae Tyrundlin, the Mistress of the Earth: OOC
Image by Vertify
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Dream
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Mew?
Silence. Lights flashed all around, but not a sound could be heard. She was confused by that small detail. There should be sound. Shaking her head, she tried to clear her mind, opening her senses to the world, but it didn't quite work. No matter how hard she tried, no sound was heard. It seemed unreal. There was too much going on for it to be silent.

Suddenly, a loud scream broke through her silence. "I FOUND HER" She sped of in a panicked run. Crap she thought as she ran down the street More running... she had been hiding out in the busy city of Norfolk, about twenty miles from the asylum that she had just escaped from, when she was recognized. Once again, she was forced to run for her life, or at least, her sanity. She never realized just how much she hated running until she was forced to do so.

Grace Roberts ran for hours, never seeming to tire. She credited it to adrenaline, not knowing any other way it was possible. She eventually stopped in a small town in the middle of Virginia. Sitting on a bench in the small town park, she watched the people walk by. She spotted a young woman with blonde hair, dyed black on the bottom, and reached a hand to her fading red hair. My hair should look like that. she thought. She then stood, and pulled a wad of money out of her pocket. Time for a change of appearance. she made her way to the town's small hair salon, and had them work their magic. She had them do her hair the exact way she had seen the beautiful young woman in the park.

Fingering her new blonde hair, Grace walked along the street, pale green dress flowing behind her. She really hated that thing. She couldn't even remember why she had bought it at her last stop. Shrugging, she made her way to what was obviously the most popular store, and found a new look for herself there. Now dressed in black skinny jeans and a dark blue tank top, she looked like a completely new person.

Satisfied with her appearance, Grace walked down the lonely streets, relishing in the quiet once again. She liked the quiet. It meant that nobody was coming for her. She was, for the moment, safe. She made her way back to the small park, where she watched a young family together. She was suddenly struck with such a hatred for them, but more then that, for the happiness the young family shared. She hated that they could be happy when her life had been nothing but hell. She sat there, and wished that she could have what they had...a family.
I'll whisper in your ear,
You are mine, and you will never have to be alone.
And when I pull you near,
You'll know I love you like I never loved anyone.
So let me be the one to lift you up,
I'll carry you home.
'Cause now I'm here to keep you safe,
And to catch you when you fall.
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psy
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Greed

Under the blotted shadow of a tree the brooding Alexander Ward, now to be known as Greed, crouched down with elbows resting on his knees and hands under his chin. His thinker pose as it would surely soon be known by his new family. A concept that he had embraced rather rapidly, these people were certainly nothing less than family now. Though unlike the normal family they all came from separate backgrounds and the “father” figure was a ten year old boy. Or at the very least he took the appearance of a ten year old boy. There was no telling with his new family members now that they had all attained not only immortality, but superpowers as a comical harken back to the days when Greed read comic books. Certainly if they were superhumans now they were more X-Men villains than the Fantastic Four.

Standing just in front of Greed was their leader, Pride. Nearby were Wrath and Sloth. Greed did not know much about these people other than their appearance and name. He hadn't had the chance to collect information on them and unbeknownst to them he was slowly descending into his less desirable state of mind because of this. As each second ticked by the headache grew more intense as he desperately probed his own mind for information on them, even though there was none. Normally it would not be so bad, but to be in the company of three people without knowing more than their name was pure torture.

Greed's eyes flicked between the members of his new family. Wrath looked absurdly calm for someone called Wrath. Yet he gave off the same aura of a truly intimidating mob boss. He couldn't help but feel slightly afraid of this man, yet at the same time his personality dictated that he was being foolish to feel fear. This man was evidently not a mob boss though as Greed had never seen his face before. The next family member, Sloth, certainly deserved her namesake. She had the same boredom behind her eyes that your average high school student had, but taken to a much higher level. Greed could get along with that, he worked hard but enjoyed relaxing as well, sometimes a bit too much.

Finally there was Pride, the boy leader of this soon-to-be group of sinner assassins. The boy was stoic and appeared to be in a trance at the moment. Ignoring the child aspects he certainly looked very leaderly. Greed could respect the power this boy held and the authority he commanded despite his appearance. Similarly Greed held so much influence in the criminal underworld and yet he was not exactly intimidating in appearance. His mind is what made him intimidating and similarly the boy was intimidating because of the power he held. In that way Greed felt oddly closer to the boy than the other two. Perhaps it was also because the boy had some understanding of who Alexander Ward was, and who Greed would become as time went on.

How he knew was no mystery to Greed. The boy had made it evident early on that this was all by the will of seven heavenly spirits. The spirits chose them all because they were the worst of the worst when it came to their respective sin. An achievement that Greed could not help but feel proud of. Not only was he at the top of his field but he was also at the greediest person in the entire world. So much so that he had to be saved by a group of spirits that wanted other sinners to be punished. It was an intriguing concept, having the worst of the worst punish those lesser to them. They were now all like gods in some backwards twist of fate.

In Greed's precarious invisible madness he completely missed Pride speaking until he was finally spoken to. Greed looked up slightly while in his low crouch and met the child's eyes. The boy spoke of Tiffanie Marquisa, a woman who Greed was familiar with. Hearing her name allowed him to distract himself and the madness behind those dark eyes as he pried the depths of his mind for information on her. As far as Greed knew she was a prominent figure in the French burlesque scene. Naturally the burlesque scene and the criminal underworld went hand in hand. High profile criminals tended to have some influence in that business. The sordid profession of selling your body was a goldmine for those good enough at it. A practice that Greed had never been particularly interested in using the services of. Manipulating emotions was far more worthwhile in the long run.

Greed did not know a lot about this Tiffanie Marquisa, he did know however that she was very beautiful and probably engaged in the practice herself. He distinctly recalled an arrogant European player raving about how he was going to France to hire the, as he put it, “most expensive girl in the world, the Queen of the Parisian burlesque.” To that, and to Pride's comment about how he would apparently do anything to have this woman by his side, he lightly smiled. Pride still had a few things to understand about the greed he felt. But that was to be expected, they had only just met.

“Sure, lets go.” he said as he got back to his feet and returned to towering over the leader. He made his way over to his nearby parked car but stopped mid-stride and turned his head back to regard Pride once more.

“I'm not renting you any of Miss Marquisa's whores when we get there though, you'll have to pay for them yourself.” he remarked with a broad and slightly sinister smile.
Edited by psy, May 7, 2011, 8:49 pm.

(☞゚ヮ゚)☞
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ravenroses
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Callsign: Wrath
Location: Home/Leaving

It was no surprise to him that as Pride spoke to the three other sins in the room, the others were sizing up one another. Wrath caught Greed's eyes on him for a moment. Each man looked at one another, took mental notes on his brother and then looked away. Wrath was not at all surprised that he and Greed would be at odds with one another; maybe not enemies but he himself would always be cautious about his newly acquired brother.

He didn't have much time to look over Sloth. She was rather quiet and slow, that was all he knew about her. That was all he'd learn before Pride addressed him. Wrath carefully looked at the child as he gave out his assignment. He nodded once. An asylum patient would feel like home. The excitement built up and a small smile showed more in his eyes than on his lips.

Wrath left the room once Pride had finished talking. He waved over his shoulder to his siblings as he walked out. He had a plane to catch and he wanted to get to Virginia as soon as he could. First, he needed a bat and a few shirts, just in case he got covered in blood again. He didn't mind having blood on his skin and clothing, not in the slightest, but if he had to use any of his baseball skills on somebody else, he didn't want others to run off or freak out. Things like that never ended well for everybody.

Before long, he was in a car, heading to the airport. He didn't have as far to go as the others, but he wanted to take pleasure in this assignment before all the excitement wore off. He parked in an overnight lot, not caring what happened to the car afterword. He'd never hear the end of it it he lost a car due to his carelessness. None of that mattered though. He hated driving anyway.
You don't only belong to yourself, you know. I doubt there is a single person in this world that belongs only to himself. When someone makes a connection there is always something shared. And so people will never be completely free. It's that which brings out fun, and sadness and love.
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The Token Australian
Pride

Indeed, Greed was a lot taller than the Boy Leader - though that wasn't really a hard thing to accomplish for most people. As his Brother began to leave, Pride waited for him to take a few steps before following behind without caution. He wasn't sure exactly what Greed - or any of the rest of his family - were completely capable of, but at the same time was confident that his own abilities were more than enough to allow him to hold his own should they take a shot at him. When the man turned back around and made a remark that lacked a lot of class, Pride remained silent, disinterested amongst the concepts of sexual service.

Had the two of them known each other better, there was a high chance that the young boy might've laughed at such a statement, to further strengthen the bond between himself and his Brother. But as they'd only just met, and knew very little about each other, Pride felt that not enough had happened to allow for a bond to form between them yet anyway. In his experience, to gain a strong tie to someone, one either had to have grown up with them - and due to his frozen age, it was no longer an option - or experience grave danger with that someone and survive. There were other ways of course, but the boy figured that the latter would be a very likely possibility.

As he stepped over to Greed's car, Pride hoped that his new Brother was a fast driver. He wouldn't have to be a *good* one, because in the event of an accident they both knew how much of a chance there was of either of them getting hurt in any way. The car might be totalled, but the two of them wouldn't even receive a scratch. The child pulled open the front passenger side door and slipped in silently. As he placed his seatbelt on, he noticed that while he could see over the dash, he was still too short to have a full view. "Curse this..." he breathed, having always been irritated by his small stature. It didn't matter so much any more because he was a Leader of a very powerful group, but still; there were times when a little more height would've been much appreciated...

Winding down the window, the child called out to his Brother. "Planning to let me drive, Greed? It would get us to the airport faster than if you just stand there with that devious smirk on your face. I'm sure you don't want to keep our Dear Sister waiting..." Tiffanie Marquisa... he thought to himself, tapping the arm rest jutting out of the passenger side door. I wonder... Whether you'll choose to join us. While he readily approved the joining of another family member, a small part of Pride wanted her to decline, just to see what would happen after that. Contrary to his size, he was one very evil little kid...

'Friends will come and go, but you're stuck with your Mates forever."
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psy
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Greed

As was to be expected, Pride appeared unresponsive to the remark. The stoic leader remained as such even when confronted with a bit of crude humour. The response, or lack thereof, was all Greed needed to see to sate his curiosity somewhat. With each back and forth with his new family he learned just a little bit more about them, and while hardly satisfying it was better than nothing. Even as Pride continued past him towards the car he stood still and continued to smile, now relieved as the pounding headache started to recede.

Now he could move on from Wrath, who had since left, and soon Sloth and instead think about how he and Pride were going to find and convince the soon-to-be Lust to join their growing family. With his mind having moved on almost completely from the unsolvable maze of torment it had been trapped in he continued on his way to the car. Pride had already seated himself in the passenger seat of the car and rolled down the windows. Lucky for the boy the car had manual cranks for the windows or he would surely be roasting sitting on the dark leather. It was a pleasant day but the car was not shaded from the sun at all.

“You driving? Now that would be interesting, wouldn't it. A bit slow I'd think considering, well your eyes are barely above the dash. It might be faster if we save your driver training for another day, you know, after I make sure you can even ride a bike without training wheels.” he retorted cheerfully, wearing a charming smile that did a splendid job of contrasting the sharpness of his tongue.

Greed was soon in the driver's seat next to Pride. He slid into the seat and pushed the key into the ignition before starting the car. The engine roared to life and expelled a satisfying purr that spoke to the quality of the car. It was certainly rare to see luxury sports cars around here. It was only a short drive to the highway though and then a short distance to the airport so Greed was not too afraid of wrecking his car. And if he did? Buy another, simple as that for someone in his situation.

With the car now running the next thing Greed did was turn on the satellite radio and switch it to a world news station. The speakers came to life with the voice of a clearly somewhat bored news reporter who spoke about various political situations, wars, gang violence and the like. The radio droned on, barely overshadowing the sound of the engine. With the radio on Greed immediately looked far calmer than before. A constant stream of the thing he desired most was finally setting him at ease. He was in his own mobile paradise, finally. Several minutes later they were cruising down the highway to the airport well over the speed limit.

Time/Location skip for Greed and Pride to Paris, France at a sidewalk near an airport there, as discussed. Current time in Paris would be getting close to mid-day.

The streets of Paris were as lively as Greed remembered them being the last time he was here. Cars were parked far too close to one another, so close that he wondered how they even got out of those spots once they had them. He and Pride were standing nearby a large cluster of people waiting for taxis and buses to take them into the heart of the city, to see the sights. They all looked terribly touristy. In stark contrast, Greed had replaced his normally lazy attire with sharp looking dress pants and a proper suit jacket that matched quite nicely with his leader's own suit. A few people glanced their way, certainly more so because a child was as dressed up as the man beside him.

Greed had his phone to his ear, which had been ringing obnoxiously for the longest time. Minutes passed, a test of patience if there ever was one, before a very kind sounding frenchman picked up on the other end. The man stated a simple bonjour to Greed before obnoxiously stating that they didn't have time, wherever he was, for some random American who got hold of the number. Greed scowled and then sighed quietly. The people glanced his way once more and a few snickered, thinking perhaps the man and child had attempted to rent a car to pick them up to no avail. Much to the peoples' surprise Greed lifted his head again and spoke very calmly into it, yet with a surprising amount of menace behind his voice.

“Is your boss there now? Yes? Good, tell him that one Mr. Alexander Ward would like a car in front of the airport before noon. If he refuses you can inform him that I will regretfully cut him off from future business deals with myself and my associate brokers. Merci bien.” he responded to the dismissal with just the right amount of malice. Greed hated to have to threaten his business partners for such a trivial matter, but this really was the fastest way to get where they had to go.

The man on the other end soon returned to the phone and said fearfully, likely of his boss' resultant anger, “We will have a car to pick you and your associate up within the hour. I am terribly sorry I was so rude before. The board also extends their full apology for my behaviour.”

“Take a minute to calm down next time they threaten to string you up from the Arc de Triomphe. It's too satisfying to the caller if you sound like you just realized your life can be thrown away in an instant. Oh, wait.” he said quietly and with a grimly satisfied smirk before hanging up on the man.

As soon as he had hung up he was immediately dialling another number. The phone was immediately picked up this time and a french woman picked up this time. “Bonjour, --” the woman started to say before being immediately cut off.

“I'm sorry, my French is rusty. You do speak English I hope?”

“Yes, I do. I'm terribly --” she responded and was yet again cut off.

“It's my understanding that your company is owned by the prestigious Miss Tiffanie Marquisa. Is that correct?”

“Why yes it is, sir, are you one of her business partners?”

“That's what I'm hoping to become rather rapidly. Sadly I have been unable to come into contact with Miss Marquisa so far though so I was hoping perhaps you could help me with that. If you could pass along the message to Miss Marquisa that a Mr. Alexander Ward would like to meet with her I would be eternally indebted to you. Actually, if you could tell me where I might find her that would be simply fantastic.” Greed explained with a very kind tone that more than made up for his prior rudeness.

The woman briefly set down the phone and Greed could hear the clatter of keys on a keyboard. Alexander Ward was not exactly a hard person to find on the internet considering the number of pockets he had his hands in. A simple search for the name would reveal a large number of companies with large shares owned by him. That, of course, was only the start. Underneath that rather large footprint on the business world were layers of under the table dealings. An underworld information broker disguised as a very well-off business man, that's what Alexander Ward was.

“I'm certain Miss Marquisa would be happy to meet with you, Mr. Ward.” the woman started off saying before relaying the very basic directions to the particular burlesque parlour Tiffanie was currently visiting. Just as Greed had hoped she was not sneaking around like some executives were known to do when engaged in the less than accepted businesses. Burlesque was certainly no exception to this.

Half an hour later the car arrived. Quite the nice looking car actually, not a grungy taxi that their neighbours at the stop were getting into. A number of people gave them dirty looks as they were ushered into the backseat of the small luxury vehicle. The driver did not seem particularly impressed that he had to pick up some fancy looking American businessman and an equally fancy kid. Despite his stewing hatred Greed greeted their drivers with a pleasant smile and a simple bonjour before repeating the location he had been told over the phone.

The driver nodded once but then did a double take and looked at the ten year old Pride. He did not raise a fuss though, rather he drove quickly out of the rabble near the airport. The man drove dangerously fast down the crowded streets, taking absurdly sharp turns as if he were in a large police chase. Of course it was no worry to their two passengers. A thought that Greed found particularly funny and let slip a small snicker while enjoying the sights of Paris.

Eventually they arrived in front of the burlesque parlour and were ushered out of the car as fast as they had been ushered into it. Evidently they were very busy with other work as the driver sped off as soon as his associate returned to the passenger seat. Greed shrugged it off and looked up at the particularly nice looking building. Wasting not another minute he ascended the steps, assuming Pride would follow, and pulled open the rather ornate door for such dirty a dirty business.

Inside nothing was really happening. It was still quite early in the day for the girls to be out in full force. Much like any proper night work, the cleanup had to happen in the morning, and thus that was just finishing up. Greed took a few steps into the establishment and peered around the large bottom floor, complete with various booths, couches and chairs, and of course a large bar. Before he could take another step a man hollered at him from behind the bar counter.

“Sorry, we're busy cleaning up after last night.” he indicated to Greed in French. The man immediately gave Pride a quizzical look. “Hey, no minors in here. What are you thinking?” he stated rather angrily, again in French.

“Something about cleaning and minors. I really need to come to France more often.” stated Greed to both himself and Pride, attempting to understand what the man was saying. Ignoring all that Greed regarded the man, “My associate and I would like to speak with Miss Marquisa. She should have been informed that I was coming here. Though I'm certain you wouldn't know anything about that. Just mixing drinks and watching women you'll never have without paying in your future, hm.”

“Want to say that again?” the bartender asked threateningly as he left the comfort of his bar counter and started to approach the pair.

“I suppose this is as good a time as any to put that to the test.” Greed stated and immediately looked directly at the man. Greed's eyes darkened briefly and the man stopped in his tracks. Nothing had changed in the environment, at least not for anyone but the bartender. The bartender was now, as far as he knew, trapped inside a pure white room with only an inch of space between him and each wall and the roof. The bartender spun around frantically and hit the imaginary walls. As soon as he opened his mouth he found out he had been gagged and could only mumble.

“Hey, I like this. Now shall we find the ever illusive Miss Marquisa before I see how he feels about deadly spiders?” Greed asked with a frightening amount seriousness behind his voice.

(☞゚ヮ゚)☞
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A shrill ring spilled out across the penthouse. Being pulled from sleep was not something Tiffanie was accustomed too, and she was even less accustomed to seeing the light of day. Fingers of sunlight were peering through the velvet drapes, and the queen of the night leered as she blinked back the enemy. Without haste, she pulled herself up in bed, the satin sheets cool against her skin. Almost stereotypically for a woman of her profession, she felt far more comfortable sleeping without clothes, and didn’t bother with the modesty of holding the sheets up to her chest. The brass clock on the lace-covered bedside table ticked away cheerfully: 12:35pm. “Tellement tôt… So early… Reaching out an ivory arm, Tiffanie lifted the receiver from the shrieking telephone before it could give out another ring, and held it to her ear. “Bonjour?” she asked weakly, still half held by sleep.

“Désolé, I’m sorry Mademoiselle Tiffanie, I know I must ‘ave woken you. But zere iz a problem at ze Luxe Amour,” the girl on the line sounded nervous and frantic, and immediately had her boss’ attention. Tiffanie did not speak, and waited for the girl to continue, listening intently. She was working at the Luxe Amour that night, but had already decided that she would be arriving early for today. A problem in any of the burlesque houses was a problem for Tiffanie, who in turn made it a problem for the troublemaker. “It iz your appointment, Madame: Monsieur Ward? ‘E haz… Err.. Arrived early. And ‘e seemz to ‘ave our barkeep in a zertain… state,” She seemed hesitant. “I tink, per’aps, your prezence may be required ‘ere sooner than later?” But Tiffanie was already getting dressed.

Despite the tint of the car’s windows, too much sunlight managed to seep through. The streets were crowded with completely and entirely average, everyday people: families out to enjoy the sunlight with ice cream and a good stroll, girlfriends dragging boyfriends through the various boutiques found in this high end of town, elderly couples sipping lattes as they soaked up the vitamin D. It was an entirely different Paris to what Tiffanie was accustomed too, and she curled her lip up at the world of the day-walkers as she slid a pair of polished aviator glasses onto the bridge of her nose. Not that she lived an entirely nocturnal existence; on occasion she ventured into the world of the living to shop or meet with very special, very wealthy, clients. But much of her work was conducted in the heart of the night, and she usually spent her days sleeping at whichever hotel she fancied for that particular morning. After all, she did own almost all of them.

Crossing her legs, Tiffanie took a moment to intake breath deeply, and tried to relax. She was aware how prone she was to anger, and without full knowledge of the situation at the Luxe Amour it would be unnecessary to work herself up before arrival. Nothing could be done to remove her edge though. The burlesque houses were a part of her livelihood, and a part of how she defined herself. Of all the businesses she could call her hers, those mixed within the burlesque underworld were dearest and most protected. There, she was at home. There, she was queen. The dashes of red and black across the lace corset and sarong she wore marked her as a woman of the underworld, and the fishnet tights and stiletto-heeled boots affirmed her as a very special lady of the night. Sighing softly, Tiffanie reached up and dabbed at the corner of her mouth to ensure her scarlet lipstick remained in check. Monsieur Ward had not made a very smart first impression.

Before long the sleek, black limousine had at last arrived at the vintage-styled building that was the Luxe Amour. Grey stone bricks formed the bulk of the building, while blood-red drapes blocked the sunlight from the windows, fell from the verandas and welcomed you at the double doors. Red roses snaked up black lattice that clung to the sides of the building, while an unlit sign spelled out the house’s name in curvy purple letters. The entrance was covered by a small patio, and Tiffanie stepped out onto the curb directly beneath it. “Merci beaucoup, Claude,” she spoke softly as she swooped out of the cab while her driver held the door open for her. Claude would wait to be dismissed before leaving, and as Tiffanie was not yet sure how long she was required here she decided to have him stay. Just in case. Walking past, a man was forced to look over his shoulder as he ogled the woman now standing on the sidewalk, and she winked cheekishly at him as she removed her glasses. Men were too easily pleased.

Walking forward with purpose, Tiffanie pushed through the double doors and entered her place of worship. The grungy smells of smoke, booze and jazz were thick in the air, and she inhaled deeply, allowing them to soothe her. Pulling her mahogany holder from her small purse, she lit up her own cigarette and took a long, indulgent drag before approaching the greeting podium. Behind it stood one of her girls, donned in a short purple number of lace and ribbon. Her blonde hair was pulled back, but wisps were beginning to fall into her eyes. It had obviously been a rough morning. The girl looked frantic, and seemed relieved at who she saw when she looked up. “Madame!” Tiffanie nodded silently as the girl rounded her post to curtsey neatly. “Thank goodness you are ‘ere. Zis way,” she spread an arm in the direction of the bar, before hastening off to show her mistress the cause of the commotion. “Just through ‘ere, Madame,” the girl instructed, allowing Tiffanie to pass.

Sucking deeply upon the cigarette in her hand, the queen of the house entered the main room of the building: the watering hole. Usually so vibrant and full of life, the bar was now empty and closed, as was customary during the day. Tiffanie was slightly irritated at the helpful girl for not locking the doors as she should have: she ran a very tight ship for means of protection, and the doors were not to open before six every night. That was the way of the burlesque houses in Paris, and indeed similar lounges across the world. What made Mr Ward think he could disturb the resting peace of day was beyond Tiffanie’s comprehension. Her hips rolling, she walked a short ways onto the floor and stood with her arms folded. The cigarette amber burned brightly against the blacks and reds of her clothing, and her eyes were slanted and cold as they faced what lay before her.

The barkeep was bound and useless on the ground, but that was the least of her worries. The assumed Mr Ward stood with his back to her. He didn’t seem like much masculine-wise, but his attire made it obvious that he was still a man of worth. She’d already conducted her research – as she did with all clients asking specifically for her – and had gained enough information to satisfy her; he was able to pay. Even more disturbing however was his companion. A child, not facing Tiffanie either and instead watching the powerless bartender, stood barely high enough to reach the door handle. Not only had this man attacked her staff, distressed her girls and broken assumed burlesque rules, but he had brought a child into the midst of her house. No, not even with under-the-table or foul business would Mr Ward have quite enough money for her after this.

Keeping a calm exterior, eyes still slanted and on fire with a dangerous yet curious glare, Tiffanie drew their attention to her. Damn Americans. “Puits, Puits. Vell, Vell, Monsieur Ward, you zertainly ‘ave a lot of explaining to do to me.” Her voice was poisonous as she turned to the small boy he held as company. “You are far away from ‘ome indeed.”
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'You were a happy dream in a life that's been nothing but a hellish nightmare'

Tiffanie 'Lust' Marquisa, the Femme Fatale: OOC
Sa’ritae Tyrundlin, the Mistress of the Earth: OOC
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Blue
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As Greed had fun testing out his newfound abilities, Pride stood completely still and in silence, merely an observer to his Brother's antics. On the outside, the child seemed unamused and undisturbed by all of the going's on around him, minus the sight of a teenage girl had managed to sneak away and get her hands on a nearby phone. With that sight came a very slight twitch on the boy's face. It was by no means a nervous twitch, rather one that harboured much irritation. He should've taken control of the situation as soon as they'd arrived, telling Greed to keep a lid on anything in his mind that would start up any trouble for them. Darn it. he sighed with frustration.

As his Brother asked after Marquisa once more, Pride decided that it would be a good time to interject. His words were stern, and though they came from the mouth of a child, it was clear that the Leader had most certainly had enough. "Greed. You have caused more than enough trouble as it is. Leave your plaything alone and focus. I suspect that we are soon to meet our mark and I can imagine she will not be pleased with our actions - yours less so than mine." the boy did his best to keep himself calm, but considering the mess they were soon to be in, it wasn't unreasonable that he would feel the way he did.

"In addition, it wasn't a good idea for us to arrive in a place like this at this time of the day; we have disturbed the property of a rather powerful business woman, and in doing so have disturbed her. Our ...business could very well be in jeopardy." He'd planned to say "Sister", but was able to keep himself off that subject. They were with an audience at the moment, after all. "What's more, you have incapacitated one of the workers. That, my Brother is rather bad for our business, although I'm quite sure that because you're a business man, I shouldn't have to tell you these things." There was never a raise in tone, but there was certain and unmistakable irritation within the Leader's vocal patterns.

Pride went silent once more after that; a few of the girls had given him some rather odd looks as he'd lay down a lecture for his Avaricious Brother. Best not to give them further reason to worry. Suddenly, the girl who'd made the call rushed out into the foyer, and the boy could feel a familiar throbbing in his head. "She is here." he stated simply. They would have to keep calm, and make do with the situation they'd now placed themselves in. Moments of silence passed by, one after another, until finally the doors re-opened, and a black-haired, slender woman with a cigarette in her mouth entered the main room.

As she announced herself rather quietly, or rather demanded the attention of all those present in the room - even the man on the ground twitched around for a moment - the child turned to face their mark. Instantly, he knew she was exactly who they were looking for; though really he shouldn't have been surprised. Though her eyes were still mortal, they'd already begun to burn a hole through what was left of Pride's soul. Her gaze was sharp, despite what seemed to be a calm demeanour. A demeanour that dissolved entirely as soon as the woman opened her mouth. This will indeed be interesting... thought the Leader, watching her speak with a rather stoic gaze. It could quite possibly have come across as boredom, but in reality he was trying to recreate the same monasticism he'd displayed earlier - before Greed had incapacitated the bartender.

Her words attempted to cut the child even further down than he already was. Miss Marquisa was definitely not pleased that someone so young was treading through territory that only the grown and powerful strutted through. Regardless of this though, Pride knew that he would have to prove to her that she give him too little credit. That was of course, if she'd pardon the pun. Perhaps I'll make an attempt to surprise her. She won't be expecting a child of my age to be very wordy... he thought, attempting to straighten his already immaculate tie. The colour oranged seemed rather out of place in such a place as this - made even more obvious in the daytime. The boy took in a breath before he spoke, wishing they could've been able to find a more... clean environment to discuss their business in.

"Bonjour, Miss Marquisa." he began, the natural leading instinct taking hold of him again. "I do regret that we have to meet under these circumstances. Alex here lacks... for lack of a better word, tact. My apologies on my Brother's behalf." It wasn't great, but it was indeed a start. Attempting to get onto her side wasn't going to be as easy as it sounded, but the Leader was sure they'd be able to handle themselves. "If I may, could I request that the three of us speak privately..? If you are hesistant to trust us with yourself alone, I see no harm in allowing one of your trusted employees to follow you in." With that, the child's eyes snapped to the girl who'd made the summoning call, his violent violet gaze locking on her. He'd have to thank her later...

'Friends will come and go, but you're stuck with your Mates forever."
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The South Bay was always a busy place. Full of people running around, gangs seeking out territory, people seeking to amuse themselves in various ways. It was a beehive of activity and on days like today it was especially crowded. Ben didn't not like people so much as he only saw them as a way to get what he most desired. There was a time when he had friends, where he sought out the company of others because he enjoyed it. He was a warmer guy back then, much more chill. But now, he saw all of them as a means to his only end: consumption. The lifestyle, the food, the drink. It wasn't fair he'd lost so much. He deserved to have a good lifestyle, to live the high life. People didn't understand that he was supposed to be at the top, not the bottom. The once friendly and easy going charmer had gone sour. Like wine that'd gotten too much air, Ben was rank. He'd soured, and while he could still put on that facade of the easy going fun lover, he had found himself vested only in obtaining that once had lifestyle he so craved.

Cierra's BLT had been delicious. The bacon was a sort of crispy which defied convention. It wasn't so much crispy as crumbly, but in the most sumptuous of ways. Ben hated the way some bacon was. Too much fat and too slimy and it was uneatable. Ben would still probably eat it these days, but it wasn't something to be preferred. Out of all the foods he liked, bacon was probably at the top, and he appreciated Cierra's ability to make a fine BLT. And when bacon was with a BLT, it wasn't just the bacon that could make or break it. No, it had to have fresh lettuce, ripe tomatoes. The whole dish had to be a concert of perfection, otherwise the bacon wouldn't be able to save it. Flimsy lettuce was the worst, and there were few excuses someone could provide for really pulpy and old tomatoes. Ben suspected that Cierra got her produce from one of the markets around town, though he had never asked. He was only concerned with the quality, and as far as that went it was perfect. She was a pretty good fuck too, though he'd wished she'd provided some better drink than lemonade to go with the BLT. It tasted too sour.

Ben made his way through the crowds along the Santa Monica Pier. Here was a place he could lose himself in. Amusement park food wasn't his favorite, but he didn't have much choice with both Allison and that one chick not at home. What was her name anyways? Oh well, it wasn't any matter. Pacific Park would be fine and people were very willing to buy a charming young man such as himself a meal at a park when they were having so much fun. Especially lonely ladies.

Walking towards the pier itself and Pacific Park, Ben got a craving. This happened sometimes, much more often now than it ever had. A deep desire to eat or drink. His stomach rolled in a way that said it needed to be fed; Ben couldn't wait till the park. He looked around and saw a vending machine across the street. Crossing without thinking, he nearly got hit by a jeep that was gently speeding down the bay road. He paid no attention to it; urges this sudden needed to be dealt with ASAP.

Thank god it had peanuts in it. Some protein would be good to tide him over longer. Ben plugged in some of the little cash he still had left to his name and pushed the numbers needed to call the peanuts forth unto his waiting mouth. The metal twister turned and the peanuts came closer to the bottom until they plunged over the side of their little self. Anticipation held Ben rapt, but then something went wrong. The bag caught on metal twister, and it didn't let go. There hang the peanuts, at the height of the machine, too out of reach to grab for, clinging tightly to the metal twister which SHOULD have pushed them out to him.

A slow boil built in Ben's mind. This wasn't supposed to happen. He needed those peanuts. He gave the machine a little shake. The peanuts clung on for their little salty life. He shook it harder, still to no avail. This was beginning to be bad. He just wanted a fucking bag of peanuts. Was that so hard? He pushed up against the side of it now, rocking it heavily back and forth. People were beginning to gather around him now, looking at the man madly trying to get the peanuts.

They didn't budge. They just hung there, apathetic to his entire situation, holding on to the metal twist with all their peanuty being. He set the contraption down. He couldn't spend more money on it. He needed that for booze. He needed a way to get the peanuts. He couldn't spend money otherwise he would never get back to where he had been before, to the lifestyle that so called to him. He needed the money to get the peanuts though.

"AUGH!!!" With a yell to the skies, he ran over to a nearby trashcan. Lifting it up over his head, he hurled it at the machine. People sped out of the way as glass was strewn against the street and 1$ snacks were sent flying everywhere. Ben panted from the effort. Then, very calmly, and with a very contented and benign smile, he walked over the glass to the machine. Picking up the peanuts, he grabbed a few more fistfuls of various chips and candies. Exiting down an alleyway to the right of the machine, he made his way to the street on the other side of the building. There was a mall nearby.

Pacific Park would need to wait for a bit as he consumed these tasty treats in the mall. He didn't particularly care that the police were probably on his tail at the moment. He'd shoplift some new cloths in one of the promenades around the area, and then once night hit he'd be back on the prowl into Pacific Park.
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The plane ride wasn't long, not by anyone standards, but planes were one place that Wrath had trouble keeping his powers controlled. There weren't any children younger than eight. At least parents were able to keep them mostly silent. Their seats were also far away from his. He managed to ignore the freaked out older woman in the seat next to him. He figured she could be nervous for a couple of reasons, one of them being flying. He tried not to gloat to himself that she was afraid of him most of all. He never wore pride well as a human or in his new life. Anger was certainly his thing.

Wrath leaned back in his chair and, as soon as he could, he turned his phone back on to check a few things. It was the modern era so he decided to check the internet to see what it had to tell him about institutions in Virgina and anything it could on Grace Roberts. He found a page with a lot of wishes from possible friends and family for one teenage girl to get better and come home soon. It was the only one he found that could mean something tragic in a human's life. The girl also lived in the area that he was heading to. Things were looking up for him.

One comment on the page, the most recent, felt out of place. He scrolled back up the page using his thumb to read it again. Grace, please come back. They want to help. We miss you <3 was all it said. "She escaped, didn't she?" Wrath said to himself. His interest certainly peaked with that thought. He closed the window and opened another to see if there was anything about the institution in the news. Unfortunately it was all hush-hush. He felt confident though.

Minor Time Skip

After a few hours of finding a car after landing, locating the institution and asking a few questions, plus searching the surrounding area, Wrath was beginning to feel a familiar sensation deep within his chest. It was warm. It rose up higher, into his neck. He clenched and unclenched his fists while tilting his head side to side. It was a frequent response his body had to the rising heat. An angry grunt escaped his lips. Any louder and people might have thought a wild cat had entered the town.

Finally he let out a long sigh, his eyes closed. "One more time," he said to himself in a shaky voice. The emotions were still raw in it but he had a task to finish. He didn't need his brothers out here to help him. That would end up setting him off even more. He took a step forward. Then another one. With each step afterward, he could feel his bones lightening up. The heat was melting away. With his mind focused, he figured he could look again.

He decided to try another town. One nearby that was easily accessible to a teenage girl but still far enough to get away. A girl on the run, where would she end up? he asked himself. He looked in places he remembered girls at school would go to when he was in high school, or at least places he thought were similar. He still didn't have the luck.

After hours of searching, Wrath was getting annoyed. His feet were a little tired but he didn't care. He was angry with himself for not being able to find this girl. It was obvious she would want to flee the institute but she left no trace of herself anywhere. Then it clicked, he was looking for Envy- a teenage girl no less. Something about her had to be different. Suddenly, the heat was melting away again.

Unfortunately, that cooling period didn't last long. Now he was left with no way of knowing who she was unless she flipped out on somebody or he recognized her face, unless she had work done. The options were not making this search easier. Wrath sat down on a bench in the park he ended up in. He put his head in his hands and chewed in the inside of his lips to bite the anger. He could feel the heat rising faster than before. His body began to twitch on its own. He didn't think he'd be able to control himself much more. He couldn't see it, but he knew the few remaining shadows surrounding the bench were starting to shake. They reacted to his coming outburst. "Fuck," he mumbled to himself as every possible outcome flashed through his mind.
You don't only belong to yourself, you know. I doubt there is a single person in this world that belongs only to himself. When someone makes a connection there is always something shared. And so people will never be completely free. It's that which brings out fun, and sadness and love.
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The family was still there, enjoying their time together. Grace was becoming even more angered at that, angered and jealous. Her hand traveled to her side where a small butter knife was hidden. It wasn't her ideal weapon, but it was better then nothing. Growing up, Grace had developed quite a skill, and a love for throwing knives. Her plan was to eventually get a good set for herself, but that would have to wait. For now, the butter knife would have to do. She looked at the young family, trying to decide which would be the better target, when a young man sat down at a bench opposite the sidewalk from her. It was his distressed, and somewhat angry position that first caught her attention. She vaguely remembered noticing his approach, it seemed as though he was searching for someone.

Slightly curious, Grace became distracted. She watched him, and was worried when she saw him begin to shake. She had seen people shake like that before back at The Place, and she didn't like the look of it. Deciding that she had nothing to lose, she walked over to him, and sat down next to him on the bench. "You need some help?" she asked him, tapping him gently on the shoulder. "I'm Grace." she told him. As an afterthought, she realized she should probably have made up a different name, but it was too late for that now. She sighed, figuring he would look up, recognize her, then she would have to run away...again. She glanced quickly at the family, deciding that, if she had to run, she was at least going to take care of that little happiness as well. A grin now firmly plastered on her face, she turned back to the young man she was now seated beside. She brushed a strand of newly dyed hair from her face again, a nervous habit she had acquired at The Place, and then put her hand back in her lap.

She looked at the young man, and wondered why she was sitting there. That was partially what had gotten her in so much trouble back at The Place. They couldn't understand her habit of becoming close to people, then violently striking out at them. It wasn't her fault that she couldn't stand being near someone if they were better then her in some way. She always found something about them that she wanted, so she took it. There was a long-standing joke among the nurses at The Place that she had a collection of hair from every girl she saw who's hair was prettier then hers. The thought of hair caused her to look at his. It was a pretty color, sure. But she already had dyed her hair a similar color once, and it just didn't suit her. She much preferred the blonde and black that was now found on her head.
I'll whisper in your ear,
You are mine, and you will never have to be alone.
And when I pull you near,
You'll know I love you like I never loved anyone.
So let me be the one to lift you up,
I'll carry you home.
'Cause now I'm here to keep you safe,
And to catch you when you fall.
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Greed

Greed's contemplative gaze never left the bartender, not for a moment. When the man fell to the ground he continued to stare. When the frightened girl ran to the phone, his maddened eyes pierced the man's mind. Fright was a truly a delightful feeling to observe, and even more so when the frightened ones hadn't the slightest clue about what was happening. To all those around the bartender simply appeared to collapse to the ground by his own will. Yet the one causing it, Greed, knew better. Greed was testing the limits of the bartender at this point, and his cruel grin showed just how much he was enjoying it.

First came the spiders. With each passing second a spider crawled out of a small, dark hole in the imaginary wall until the floor was covered with them. They crawled inside the man's pant legs, his shirt, and all over his flesh. Hundreds of hairy legs skirted across the man until he looked like he was about to scream out despite the illusionary gag. Noting this, Greed resisted the temptation to have the spiders bite the man. Surely that would break illusion and allow him to scream, which might have created a domino effect and shattered the rest of it. Greed was not going to let that happen, his desire for the man's suffering was too strong.

Eventually the spiders became not enough and the man looked to be numbing to them. Lacking any creativity and skill at this point Greed conjured a number of snakes for the man that fell from the ceiling and coiled around his limbs. Each snake threatened to bite the man but would skirt away to another body part as they came close. The man's eyes widened in horror and he began to writhe around on the ground. Greed only barely noticed the girl at the phone look upon her coworker with similar horror and certainly some confusion. Surely she was asking herself what was causing the bartender to act so strangely. Her naivety to the situation was only slightly amusing.

As was to be expected, Pride questioned his motives. Which, to Greed, was an addition rather than something he did not want to hear. A ten year old speaking in that way certainly added to the confusion that abounded in the room at that point. Of course, Greed recognized that he was overstepping some boundaries, acting more like Greed than Alexander Ward. But it was just so much fun, he couldn't help himself. With each squirm of the bartender he felt ever more elated. With this method he also learned about a person's fears. It was blissful.

Until Pride mentioned that their target had arrived Greed remained quiet and cruelly interested in the bartender. It was now time to move on to the next phase of the mission here, he could no longer revel in his bliss. “I just love it when plans fall into place with my own enjoyment. Thank you for adding to the confusion by the way, bro, we make a good team.” he remarked with a significant amount of joy while he gestured around the room to the frightened workers, particularly the woman on the phone.

The fun with the bartender was over though and Greed turned to face Tiffanie along with Pride. As he did so the illusion gradually faded from the bartender's mind. The spiders, snakes and walls collapsed into a fine grey smoke which in turn faded from view. The bartender looked up at Greed with wild, horrified eyes and scrambled away to the cover of his bar counter. He crouched behind it, daring not to look at the strange people that had brought him such torture. Greed paid him no further attention, instead smiling far too wide at the stunning woman that now graced their presence and was surely irritated with him in particular.

Tucking each hand in a pocket, and looking far too casual for any proper business man he gave Tiffanie the once over while Pride spoke. She certainly was in the running for the title of most beautiful woman. And Greed could certainly respect the intimidation factor that she flaunted quite readily. The once over told him very little than that though. She also looked very unimpressed with both of them, well not so much unimpressed as unhappy. Which stood to reason considering the events surrounding their meeting.

“I fear that the dear call-girl may be too afraid of me, and confused by you to attend such a meeting, boss.” Greed began, making sure to place significant emphasis on the term boss. A tactic he was sure would only add to the complete and utter confusion in the room. “But surely if the lovely Miss Marquisa is too intimidated by the two of us one of us could stay behind and entertain the bartender some more.” he concluded while glancing with grim intention towards the bar counter.
Edited by psy, May 10, 2011, 6:07 am.

(☞゚ヮ゚)☞
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A long silence followed. The small boy in the tacky suit had somehow come to the conclusion that he was permitted to speak, while it seemed Monsieur Ward was allowing him. Tiffanie was not so tired as to miss the emphasis placed on the word ‘boss’ as it dribbled from his mouth, and her eyes slanted even more so. Indeed it seemed the pair was working as the quintessential anti-business-partners, so much so that it seemed forced. They obviously had no intentions of participating in a business transaction of the kind that typically interested the burlesque queen, and she became more irritable as they continued to waste her time. What was more, it seemed Monsieur Ward was eager to return to whatever strange torture he had subjected her bartender to, while the small child he kept as companion was watching her hostess with poisonous eyes. Brother, boss, business associate – the pair seemed to be a living enigma, bringing confusion and chaos into her beloved Luxe Amour. But Tiffanie was not one to lose her footing so easily.

After a few moments of remaining statuesque in her glare, the deadly gorgeous woman raised her slender arm and softly placed the wood of the cigarette holder between her scarlet-painted lips. The orange amber glowed as she inhaled deeply, swallowing the smoke into her lungs and allowing the warmth to soothe her fickle anger. Closing her thickened eyelashes over her garnet-eyes, she contemplated the situation at hand. An American man and his supposed child-boss had requested an audience with one of the most powerful underworld figures in France, but only once they had insulted and spat upon everything she held in regard. Were they quite honestly that foolish, or was there more to it? Amazingly, Tiffanie found herself – of all things – amused. A small smirk pulled up her cheek as she dropped her arm gracefully and exhaled. She was undisputedly a powerful woman, and any man who knew her name would be aware of that. And yet this man and his ‘brother’ persisted in attempting to toy with her. All right, she thought. I’ll play.

Smoke weaved in elegant curves from her lips as she slowly opened her eyes. The man and boy did not threaten her, and it was clear they were here for something. Living a life such as Tiffanie had, very little caused shock or surprise any longer; there was nothing the newcomers could do that could startle her, she was sure. If they wanted to explore the boundaries, see what they could get away with, then so be it. She had dealt with the young and the foolish before; a double shot was nothing she couldn’t live to walk through. Besides, it was clear the men thought they held some sort of power to get away with what they had done. If they proved to be worthwhile, perhaps business wasn’t entirely out of the range of possibilities just yet. “Zat waz a very poor explanation indeed, Monsieurs,” The smirk on her lips was haunting, and Tiffanie revelled in what it must be doing to the two men who seemed so confident in their delivery. They were soon to learn exactly how little she thought of the male ego. “I ‘ope you can do bett’ere zen zat in my office.”

If the tiny child and the sleazy business man had intentions of conducting further discussion with Tiffanie, then they would have no choice but to follow her. After aligning each of the boys – and that’s how she saw them, boys – with a sly stare, she turned in a small circle, sauntering through the doors and away from the bar. She brought the cigarette to her mouth once more, breathing slowly and deeply, moaning softly as the sweet smoke filtered down through her body. The exhale encircled her, floating on the air as she passed by it, her stiletto-heels click-clacking along the wooden floorboards. “I prefer to conduct buz-i-ness alone with my clients. Nobody shall accompany us, and neizer of you will stay be’ind,” Resting a delicate hand on the polished oak barricade, Tiffanie ascended the grand staircase that beckoned patrons from the entrance to the private rooms upstairs. The thick woollen carpet was a deep blood-red, complimenting the corset and skirt of the queen that walked upon it. “I would prefer to ‘ave you both where I can see you.”

They proceeded up several flights before reaching a relatively small floor at the very top. A mere platform in appearance, the staircase left the walker staring at a pair of intricately decorated oak doors, with frosted glass panels fitted into the wood in swirls. Reaching forward, Tiffanie turned the black, glossed handles and pushed forward. The doors swung open easily, and she walked in with purpose and presence, her hips rolling with the movement of her long legs. A well organised desk, matching the double doors, sat at the back of a round office, decorated with red and black lace, ribbon and roses. The walls were painted gold, and a large black leather chair stood behind the desk, opposing the two smaller pine ones on the other side. Class and glamour seemed to radiate from the room, and though no incense burned, a seductive perfume hung in the air. “Please, close ze door be’ind you,” Tiffanie commanded gently, taking her place behind the regal desk but not yet sitting.

Standing with her arms folded softly, cigarette still burning with a fire that was reflected in her eyes, the queen looked back at Monsieur Ward and his child-thing. Behind her, the overtly large window was concealed behind brown timbre slides, and instead the light of the room fell from a classically detailed chandelier that glowed with burlesque nostalgia. The smirk had not completely faded from her fleshy lips. Inside her lower drawer, a long leather whip lay curled in wait. She was quite the expert with it, both for inflicting pain and pleasure, and knew she could handle herself should things get ugly. Tiffanie took one last look at the boy before her, and doubted they would; intimidating, really? “Sit,” she commanded softly, settling gracefully onto her own leather chair, arms still folded and looking amused. “Tell me exactly what it iz you ‘ave come to me for, Monsieurs. You ‘ave certainly… peaked my interest.”
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'You were a happy dream in a life that's been nothing but a hellish nightmare'

Tiffanie 'Lust' Marquisa, the Femme Fatale: OOC
Sa’ritae Tyrundlin, the Mistress of the Earth: OOC
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Juicesir
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Sexy Shoeless God of Something
He'd never felt this way about someone before. She was utterly adorable, and in a way Ben could not recall ever having seen before. Her small little button nose, her soft slender checks, lightly sprinkled with freckles. She was well-proportioned and endowed; while she wasn't chunky, there was a bit of meat on this girl's bones. But she wasn't fat. She was just right. And with a name like Linda, how could she not?

He'd met her on the way out of the mall. He'd seen her sitting on a park bench, just to herself, looking out at the water. It was something different that had drawn him to her, nothing like what it had been with the other girls. Usually his type was a little more on the skinny, almost anorexic side. But she looked so beautiful sitting there, that he had felt compelled by something deep inside him to go and meet her.

They hit it off well on the pier, and he suggested that they go to the park. He made a scene of having forgotten his wallet, and she ended up paying, the two of them smiling at his apparent mistake. In truth, Ben had just been unwilling to pay, and honestly, if he got a free meal out of it, who was to complain?

The spun, and whirled, and shot around the park, riding all the rides together. They were a couple, a pair, two kids out on the night. Ben kept feeling a longing grow within him. Even though they were having fun, it was sating this desire of his. It was like when he had gotten that craving earlier, only so much more. He'd never felt this drawn to any person before, and coming from a guy who had been to his fair share of parties and met quite a few types of people in the world, it was a new experience for him.

__________________________________________________________________________

Later, they rode the ferris wheel. Ben had a hard time keeping this lust of his under control now. She was so close, and holding his hand, and leaning against him. No one made him feel the way he felt now, and he knew he had to do something about it. Not that it would be a problem for him, really. They both had that glint in their eyes, that knowing look of what would come after, and they longed to fulfill it with one another.

They walked back to her apartment. The sun had sunk into the Pacific and the people of the night were beginning to make their way out and about the bay. It was a bit of a walk back to her place, so they talked. Ben skirting the subject of his complete losses, pretending to still have the illustrious life he always led. She entertained him with stories of her attempts at Hollywood, how she had moved out her from the East Coast away from everything and everybody she knew to try and be a big screen star. It'd been hard for her, and she didn't really have any friends or people she knew in L.A..

But she was glad she had met him.

They arrived at the door, and they began the dance there. He, kissing her softly on her supple cheeks, pressed against her door. They stood there for a moment, enjoying one another, before she opened the door and invited him into her bedroom.

__________________________________________________________________________

Even after sex, Ben was still mystified by her, still enraptured by her. That lust, that deep longing he had felt had not gone as he had expected, but had intensified. He was being driven slowly mad by it, and the sight of her bare beside him didn't help. She was just as buxom as he had thought. Her hair lay in tangles on her back, and he relished the gaze he now had. She was so perfect, a true treat. She was sweet as anything Ben had ever known, and he wanted more.

Calmly, Ben rose from the bed. She didn't stir. He made his way, unclothed to the kitchen. This hunger of his, this great lust, he had to get rid of it. He had to take care of it once and for all. Her apartment was minimal but tasteful, he noticed, and she kept a rack of knives in the kitchen despite her apparent lack of anyone to cook for. Ben appreciated that; it was the little things, the attention to the lifestyle, that he enjoyed about Linda. She wanted it as much as he did, but her path would never lead her anywhere, this Ben knew.

He grabbed the largest knife. It was sharp and long, good for cutting meat off of the bone. It was well-taken care of, much like the rest of the kitchen. Oven, fridge, dishwasher, she had it all. A nice cozy little retreat from her hard days putting in at the studio auditions.

He turned back to the bedroom, walking slow, with purpose, the knife slung low at his side. A buzzing had erupted in his mind, a great, unquenchable thirst had taken him. He must know, he didn't care about anything else. All his life, he had been consumed with this great desire now coming to a boil, never quite knowing how to take care of it. He didn't care about what he had been. Now, here lay a chance for him to get rid of it.

She stirred, ever so slightly, as he softly leaned on the bed over her. Her back rose and fell with her breathe, her tender skin soft in the light dribbling in the window. "What is it, Ben?" A small smile crept onto his face, loving, gentle.

"Baby, I don't know if you know this, but you're the sweetest thing I've ever laid eyes on." She cooed. His smile widened.

"Oh Ben," she sighed, turning over to face him. He held the knife at his side, kneeling over her. Her face was light, and she looked at him for a moment with love in her eyes before she registered the knife. "You're the sweetest little thing I've ever laid eyes on... And I want more."

There was no time for a scream. A flash of silver, a burst of crimson, and it was all over. She looked at him, life and blood, both draining from her body onto the white bed mattress. He kept that same placid look on his face the entire time, just watching it happen. She didn't move or struggle, she just convulsed a bit. And then, finally, after what seemed like ages, Linda ceased.

In his lifetime, Ben had picked up many skills, the most handy of which was cooking. He was a fine gourmet cook, and the ladies always loved it. A man who was charming and could cook was a winner in all of the girl's play books. He prided himself on this skill, and had used it to feed himself and prepare fine meals when no other had been around to do so for him. Before him lay a challenge to this skill unlike any other he had set forth to conquer.

And with a dribbling smile and a heavy sigh of release, he knew that this was a challenge he would relish to complete.
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The shadows stopped, his mind almost stopped. Wrath contemplated how much time it would take him to get the bat out of his bag and pointing at the head of the person who sat next to him. He hadn't moved though. He sat, frozen, with his hands still on his head. Slowly, very slowly, he lifted his head up to see the person who spoke to him. It was a woman. She even gave him a name. She said her name was Grace. He froze again, Grace?"

He turned to look at her and stared into her face. He took in every detail. The hair was different but those eyes were unmistakeable. Even the slight feeling she gave off. She was on edge like he was. "Don't move," he said quietly. He raised a hand up to her face and grabbed her chin. "I'm not who you think I am," he said as his eyes took in every detail. Then he let her go. "You're Grace Roberts, correct? I've been looking everywhere for you," he said, pulling himself back together more and more. He felt like himself again, almost.

Wrath then reached for his bag. It was a knee jerk reaction he had. He pulled it onto his lap then dug around inside of it. After a moment, his fingers graced the cool metal of the bat. He didn't pull it out, as much as he wanted to. It was another calming method he used to ease his rage. Also he now had easy access to the weapon just in case. He turned calm eyes on her again. He sat very still but relaxed. It was very different from the breakdown he had been having before. The warmth was still just below the surface but instead of being in his chest, it was becoming an object stuck in his throat. He knew it wasn't nerves, he hadn't felt those since he had been human. This was different though, like he needed to release the anger soon before it took control of him again. He just hoped he didn't have to kill her.
You don't only belong to yourself, you know. I doubt there is a single person in this world that belongs only to himself. When someone makes a connection there is always something shared. And so people will never be completely free. It's that which brings out fun, and sadness and love.
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Pride followed the Candidate towards her office, his face losing all expression as soon as his eyes left her own. This one was certainly keeping him on his feet, essentially leading him around on a leash. It was to be expected of course; to the proclaimed "Queen of the Night", the boy was indeed nothing more than that; a boy, and an increasingly troublesome one at that. To make sure that her interest was kept, the Leader knew that he would have to do one of the things he despised most in the world; play like he had no real power. Play as though he were an actual human child. Well, an actual human child "prodigy". But the added word didn't do much to reassure or comfort the boy.

For the first time since he'd become the Leader of the Seven, Pride felt frustration beyond comprehension. He hadn't felt like this since he'd gone to meet the man who'd killed his Father during his short life as a Human. The child's fists were clenched, and he could feel his head throbbing even worse now. It had become abundantly clear that the Spirits were watching their Orders being carried out. It was also certain that they weren't pleased so far. Greed's antics had probably incited some doubt in their minds, and so in was only natural that Pride was taking the wrap for the lack of attentiveness to the job at hand. But the Leader was far from done here - nothing would stop him from completing his Brotherhood and succeeding in his mission.

Holding a hand up to his temple as he walked, Pride followed his mark cautiously, wondering whether she too had some tricks up her sleeve. She had certainly played the part of powerful business woman, but was there something she was hiding from them..? Pride was forced to remove his had from the side of his head as they entered Miss Marquisa's office, though the throbbing refused to subside. He would have to manage, Spirits or otherwise. The Leader walked straight inside, assuming that Greed would get the door. A proud individual such as himself was truly arrogant in that sense. The perfume that hung upon the air did not assist in removing his headache. However the boy pressed on, sitting in the chair offered him.

Once again, he dispensed with the pleasantries. No time for "How do you do?" or a strong handshake. There was business to be discussed, and certainly not the kind that Miss Marquisa was expecting. Pride was almost certain in that assumption. It would be like nothing she'd ever experienced before. Whether she accepted their offer or not would determine a great many things in regards to which direction her life would take from that day forward. Either way, her life was going to end - one way or another. "Miss Marquisa.." he began, resting his arms on the chair. He was disgusted that his legs didn't quite reach the floor as he sat there. Nothing seemed to be going right so far.

"We have a proposition that you may like to consider." The words never once faltered as they exited his mouth, despite all the odds having been against them from the start. "We have been watching you for quite some time now, and if I'm totally honest, it's actually you who has peaked our interest." The throbbing in the boy's head continued on, though it was beginning to slow down. It seemed that even the Spirits could be impressed by the Leader when it came to the art of Speechcraft. Whether it was working on Tiffanie however was a different story. "Have you ever considered that this world might be falling to Sin, being led to ruin by Lust and Desire?" The words would not sound familiar to the woman, but to Pride they were nearly a recount of his first meeting with the Spirits. But now was not the time for nostalgia.

"Did it ever once cross your mind that the Sins of all Humankind are life on Earth, slowly forcing us all to face an Eternity in Hell..?" As the words took a darker turn, Pride's violet eyes flashed for a moment. Suddenly, the room began to change; the paint on the walls began to lose colour, the radiant golden finish starting to lack lustre and grow dark. The double doors the group had just entered through were showing signs of rot that hadn't been there moments before, the black gloss handles seemingly unhinging themselves and thudding loudly against the floor.

The glass panels within the wood were forming cracks as the door continued to waste away, and even the desk that sat between the child and his mark began looking like it had been sitting in the same place for over a century. A small grin found its way onto Pride's lips. "Within you resides one of the Seven Deadly Sins. As you may have guessed already, it is the Sin of Lust." Even in what would be considered a supernatural situation, the boy couldn't help but enjoy his handiwork. He hadn't really had the chance to use his abilities yet either, and almost felt bad about berating Greed for his earlier experimentation...

Almost, but not quite.

"You've been marked, Miss Marquisa. Chosen to face judgement, Chosen to make a Choice of your own." The Leader folded his arms, trying to look as serious as he could - which was difficult when you were little more than five feet off the ground and sitting in a chair that made sure everyone could see it. Regardless of all this though, it was time for the Ultimatum to be received. "As you've probably gathered at this point, neither I, nor my Brother here are Human... We made the choice to live rather than be destroyed by the Sins we were most guilty of. Our human lives were forfeit, but we continue to live on in this immortal flesh that saves us from age and disease. We were granted abilities, allowed to do things that we'd never even imagined were possible."

To any normal person, the beginning of this speech would've been rather confusing. Two people saved due to their highly sinful human lives. It didn't make sense. Pride closed his eyes, his voice lowering in volume. "However, with this new life came new tasks to fulfill. A new kind of life to lead. We are tasked with finding the rest of our Sinful Kin and recruiting them into our Family. A family quite different from all others, I assure you... We embody the Seven Deadly Sins, one Sin per sibling." The child's eyes shot open once more, staring right into Miss Marquisa's eyes. "Pride, Greed, Wrath, Sloth, Gluttony, Envy and... Lust." He listed all the Sins, placing emphasis on the only one that really mattered at this point in time.

"Once our siblings have all gathered in the one place, we will be given a new task. One that involves the purging of the World. It will be our privilege to rid the world of Sin forever..." The Leader held back a laugh, appreciating the utter irony of their shared fate. "A bit backwards, I know. But I'm sure that if you join us, it won't much matter." Pride could feel his headache exiting his body, as if the Spirits were almost convinced that he could actually fulfill his promise to them. "So, Miss Marquisa. As I said before; it is time for you to make a choice..." The boy lifted himself out of his chair and stood up in front of the retired desk before him, placing a hand on the wood.

"Will you join our Brotherhood? Or be destroyed by the very Sin you were meant to control..?"


'Friends will come and go, but you're stuck with your Mates forever."
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Grace looked at him, watching as he lifed his head slowly. At his look, she jerked back slightly. She didn't like the look in his eyes. He told her not to move, which just made her want to run more. Despite that, she stayed still, too stubborn to move now that she was already there. He grabbed her chin, and she visibly flinched. When he let her go, she was about to stand and walk away, when he said her name. Oh SHIT! she thought, her eyes widening in fear Looks like i'm running again. she thought, about to take off. Instead, she spoke, hoping to buy herself more time, or, at least, figure out what he wanted. "You've been looking for me?" she asked, not even her voice betraying her fear.

She brushed a strand of blonde hair from her face as she looked at the man. Her other hand slowly made its way to the butter knife hidden at her waist. She didn't know what he wanted, or what he had in that bag of his, but she wasn't going to be taken back that easily. "What do you want with me?" she asked. "I'm not going back there." she said defiantly.

ooc
Edited by Dream, May 11, 2011, 2:28 pm.
I'll whisper in your ear,
You are mine, and you will never have to be alone.
And when I pull you near,
You'll know I love you like I never loved anyone.
So let me be the one to lift you up,
I'll carry you home.
'Cause now I'm here to keep you safe,
And to catch you when you fall.
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ravenroses
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"You don't have to go back there ever if you don't want to. I'm giving you the option to come with me," Wrath said. He stood up. He needed easy access to her if she tried to run. It would look bad in a public place if he grabbed her, but the shadows were on his side. The sun was still out and the shadows were growing longer. He didn't want to resort to using them if he could avoid scaring her more. He could relate to how she was probably feeling.

"My name is Wrath. I was sent to find you by my brother, Pride," he reached a hand out toward her and then thought better of it. He shoved the hand into his pocket. She was afraid of him already and he was just a stranger after all. "We've located our newest sister, Envy. That could be you. I've heard stories about what you have done. They're fascinating," he was being too nice. He could feel it in every word he said. He didn't know if he was trying to gain her trust or make her scared enough to run just so he could chase her. Then he laughed, "You can let go of the knife now. You won't be able to use it on me. At least not effectively."

He pulled his hand out of his pocket. For once, Wrath was feeling relaxed. The anger had dislodged itself the more he spoke. It nestled back deep inside of him. "I don't really want to demonstrate what I'm capable of unless you set me off," he said passively. "I don't think you want to be on the receiving end of it. Pride would be mad if I hurt you. We just want our sister to join us." He extended his hand once more, "Do you want to be our sister?"
You don't only belong to yourself, you know. I doubt there is a single person in this world that belongs only to himself. When someone makes a connection there is always something shared. And so people will never be completely free. It's that which brings out fun, and sadness and love.
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psy
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Greed

For the longest time the dear Miss Marquisa looked to be in a constant state of irritation with the two of them. She was certainly within her rights to be, according to the standards surrounding social behaviour, but Greed could not help but feel disappointed in the lack of something more interesting. Standard was uninteresting, and certainly did not feed his desire for interesting knowledge in the least. He desperately hoped this situation would change. Had it remained as a standoffish angry battle with few words, few interesting reactions he would have felt compelled to just leave.

Lucky for him and unlucky for everyone else in the Luxe Amour the situation did change and Tiffanie's expression appeared to change from quiet, contemplative anger to what looked to be smug amusement. That was what Greed wanted to see in his soon-to-be sister. She was an interesting one again in his books, and as such he found it only proper to counter her own smug attitude with his own. An equally smug and overly jovial smile mirrored her own.

Though he said nothing while she spoke his demeanour certainly answered the question of whether they could do better in a more private meeting between the three of them. In her speech Greed could easily hear the level of intimidation and arrogance, and the assumed power in her own home. She was of the mind that she had the upper hand in this situation. And yet she did not yet understand the situation she was in. Which amused Greed to some degree. She was acting like a proper executive, commanding the situation with a steely gaze and dominating presence, and yet she took it to another level. Far beyond that of the average businessman he had dealt with as Alexander Ward. To that effect Greed felt she had earned both his silence and attention, for now.

He followed close by Pride as the three of them ascended the numerous flights of stairs to an office on another floor. Pride appeared to be having headache troubles of his own as they climbed the stairs. Naturally with all the interesting reactions and information he was gathering Greed's migraines had completely faded away. Assuming Pride was fighting that pain for similar reasons, Greed empathized with the young leader. That pain born from a lack of sin was something that he had sustained for so long and yet he never numbed to it, never developed any resistance. It was just something he, and evidently Pride had to live with as who they were now.

In that brief window of empathy Greed caught the door as it swung open and held it open until Pride had entered. An act of kindness, that while small, showed he was growing some appreciation for his new family despite his nature. Afterwards he entered the quite stunning room and, as requested, shut the exquisite oak door behind the three of them. Immediately his rapt attention to Tiffanie left and he glanced around the room. He could appreciate the fanciful set up in the room if only because of how much it spoke to Tiffanie's tastes. His eyes traced over every object in view and without fail the image of the room burned into his mind for all eternity, just like every other room, person, bit of text, everything.

As expected, Tiffanie's tirade of assumed superiority did not disappear as they entered the new and rather exciting setting. She commanded them to sit, and as such Greed did nothing of the sort. He instead let his eyes continue to linger around the room. Pride sat, but that was to be expected, he was the one trying so hard to make a positive impression. Those same lingering eyes passed across the bottom of Pride's chair to which he was delighted to see dangling legs. So delighted in fact that he had to stifle a small laugh.

As was common the case, Pride had immediately gone into a long speech. The boy leader certainly had a way with words. A trait that amused Greed to no end. The boy could easily run for president had he the proper illusion, a thought which developed into a brief lack of attention. By combining Pride's ability to speak so well and so inoffensively with his ability to conjure illusions they could perhaps pull something like that off. Greed's mind continued to wander until Pride's sudden show of power caught his attention. Until this point none of the brotherhood had really observed each other's powers being used as far as he knew. Pride had already observed the results of his, and now it appeared as though he was returning the favour.

Again his memorizing eyes traced across every corner of the room and a new image of it was recorded. Now when he looked at the room he could see it as it was, and exactly as it once was with little effort on his part. The change was so radical, so sweeping, and so instant that he felt a newly found appreciation for Pride's powers. Looking at the boy leader he saw the same joyful glee that he had felt downstairs. It really was a wonder that they could do these sorts of things so readily now. It baffled him that someone might choose to die by their sin instead of this, except perhaps out of fear. As such, he felt no reservations against acting out as he had done earlier.

As Pride neared the ending of his speech, immediately after he listed off the sins, Greed spoke up once more, “He's the ironically prideful one, and I'm the greedy bastard if you hadn't figured it out already.” He regarded Tiffanie with the same smug and jovial smile he had displayed so readily downstairs. Pride continued to speak afterwards and finally gave the ultimatum.

“It really is as simple as die, or kill Tiffanie Marquisa and become our dear sister. As hopeless as being related to myself may be, I advise you pick the latter. Such a waste of flesh to have you rotting in some graveyard, and I would feel far less inclined to have your lovely little office returned to its prior state.” he stated while a cheeky grin replaced his previous expression.

Walking up to the table he placed one hand on the edge and leaned over it and came within a foot from Tiffanie, who sat opposite Pride at the table. With a well practiced level of speed and grace he drew the switchblade from his jacket pocket and scraped a bit of the now aged, rotting wood from the top of the table. He lifted the table scrapings up to eye level, scrunching his nose and frowning with clear disappointment at the room's state.

“This really is unacceptable for a woman of your esteemed tastes, but easily repaired. Death by way of losing your soul to sin, on the other hand, is as absolute as it gets. If I may be so forward, and I may,” he paused briefly to display a terribly conceited smirk, “you would do well as our dear sister, Lust.”

(☞゚ヮ゚)☞
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Dream
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Mew?
Grace stared openly at the man who identified himself only as "Wrath". Go with him? She didn't even know who he was. Sister? Envy? He was saying so many things at once. There was only one thing Grace was certain of: he was not sent by The Place to bring her back. If anything, he also had escaped from somewhere similar. She laughed slightly at the thought. Leave it to her to find the real crazies. Bits and pieces of what he was saying, however, struck something within her. He told her to let go of the knive, and she rolled her eyes. She needed better blades.

At his mention of becoming his sister, Grace turned to look at the young family once again. "Sister?" she asked aloud, smiling as she remembered her step-sister. "Who's Pride? Why would you hurt me? Why would he be mad if you did? Where are you from? Why do you want me? What makes me so special? How did you find me? Where would we be going?" she began spitting out questions rapidly, not giving time for breathing, let alone answers. She asked her last question, and took a breath, waiting for a response.
I'll whisper in your ear,
You are mine, and you will never have to be alone.
And when I pull you near,
You'll know I love you like I never loved anyone.
So let me be the one to lift you up,
I'll carry you home.
'Cause now I'm here to keep you safe,
And to catch you when you fall.
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Jei Ai
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There was one thing she was sure of, and the notion was crystal clear in her mind. She was not going to die today. Remaining in an eerie silence, Tiffanie’s face had quickly drifted from amused to sceptical. The mentions of eternal damnation and sin were not foreign to her and for a fleeting and yet disappointed moment she thought perhaps they were here to bash the bible. Many ‘churchies’ often tried to carve their way through the burlesque underworld in an attempt to save her girls from the fires of hell. Needless to say, when they ventured too boldly and too near they certainly caught a glimpse of the hell they warned of. Nobody was immune to the scorn of this queen as she governed her kingdom with a strong sense of worth. Her girls were not as pathetic or ‘poisonous’ as they were said to be, and Tiffanie had long since dismissed the jeers of ‘whore’ and ‘wretch’, understanding that her staff were the finest, the most highly skilled and sought after, and some of the most courageous girls in all of Europe; to sell oneself was not a career of safe employ. They were not sinning, not at all. They were keeping themselves, and their families, alive. But as for the question of Lust and their esteemed Mademoiselle Marquisa… The animalistic hunger that dwelled deep inside her stomach throbbed forward. There were few who could deny her motives were less courageous.

A slithering smirk snuck onto the boyish face of the child who sat before her. Monsieur Ward seemed somewhat curious as he too turned to the boy who had suddenly fallen uncharacteristically silent from what Tiffanie could tell. But it wasn’t the child that she should have been watching. Before she had realised, the desk at which she sat had lost its definitive shine, and she could feel her chair descending with aching creaks. The amber dangling from the end of her cigarette holder faded, and she dropped the wooden object in a start as it began to splinter. Tiffanie looked about, beginning to feel that something was incredibly off indeed. Rarely put off or left uneasy, this was new territory for the queen as, before her eyes, her petite office began to dissolve. The gold appeared to melt away from the walls, leaving a horrid off-grey stain that dribbled down from the eaves. Picture frames gathered dust before splintering and cracking before her eyes, and with an almighty groan the desk before her gave a great sigh and dropped down on one of its legs. The light of the chandelier was darkening and as she was presented with an impossible ultimatum she realised what had caused this. The child, as smug as ever, was destroying her world.

The perfectly painted and flawless face of the woman fell forward, her sleek hair sweeping down her shoulder to cover her face. Beneath the curtain, her garnet eyes were clamped tightly shut, as if hiding the incredulous event from view would make it go away. The child known as Pride, and Monsieur Ward, or Greed, was not of this world that much was clear. But more importantly they threatened death at the hands of their witchcraft because of the sin that lurked inside her very soul. She was marked? A gentle hissing began to ring about her ears, and Tiffanie frowned in an attempt to dull the noise that so much resembled an ominous voice that was struggling to be heard. Above, she could sense Monsieur Greed stepping forward and hear the distinct slicing sound of a knife being drawn. Opening her eyes, the wounded queen watched through her hair as the creature carved his way through the rotten wood of her desk and made a tasteless remark in an attempt to be cheeky. Will you join our Brotherhood? Hot and vicious, the flames of the animal inside licked at Tiffanie’s body, filling her with heat as it surged through her veins, between her mind, her heart, her legs… Or be destroyed by the very Sin you were meant to control…? There was one thing she was sure of, and the notion was crystal clear in her mind. She was not going to die today.

Without warning, the glorious body of Tiffanie Marquisa began to shudder, to tremble, until she seemed to be shaking with fear. On the contrary, though it appeared she had withdrawn into herself as a result of the altogether frightening events that had passed over the last few minutes in the Luxe Amour, it was a different situation entirely inside her mind. The hissing sound had grown as she’d mulled over her thoughts, and a word began to be decipherable amidst the incessant sounds. Subtle at first, and growing more intense, the word was shouted not into her ears but into her very mind. And as the voices rose in volume, the fire in her stomach reared upwards, spilling from the cage she’d maintained for too long. The flames surged through her body and infected her very soul as she let out a desperate pant and a soft moan. A single word rang out clearly as the voices united as one, and it pushed through the cacophony. Lust… Lust… LUST! Body trembling more than ever before, the glorious, beautiful, notorious Tiffanie Marquisa departed this world. What was left became so much more.

Slowly rising to her feet, Lust rose for the first time on shaky legs, keeping her face towards the ground. Outwardly, it seemed she had suffered a bout of panic, and was now weakly standing as a last ditch effort to maintain her dignity. But unbeknownst to the two companions that flaunted confidently about the room, their dear Sister had had life breathed into her, and was now ropable. No longer afraid, and instead struck with understanding, Lust boiled with a fiery anger that threatened to consume her. Competing for consumption was the burning desire she felt throughout her entire body that urged her to rip the corset from her bosom and press her naked body against the first man she caught within her glance. Opening her eyes to reveal scarlet-crimson pupils, the woman seemed impossibly more desirable, beautiful, glorious and voluptuous than ever before. If there had ever been a doubt in anyone’s mind before, they were surely removed as the perfection of a woman stood on the edge of a passionate undertaking. Vying for control, the two emotions wrestled inside her, battling to see who would power her next actions. It seemed, at last, that the furious rage of being unceremoniously challenged within her place of sanctuary tipped the scales and seized the moment.

Like lightening, Lust lifted her head and immediately caught the eyes of Greed. Summoning all her immortal strength into her arm, she eyed the man poisonously: he had foolishly ventured to within a foot of the dangerous and now empowered woman. Lashing out, Lust swung her hand forward, fingers curled into blood-red painted talons, and smacked Greed full across the face. As she swiped at him, she dug her nails into the slap, feeling the flesh tearing away with the force of her hit. It felt satisfying to lunge out at the vile creature that had strutted about so imperiously since his arrival, and she held back a spit behind her fleshy lips. Not nearly finished with her vicious fight back for dominance in the room, Lust rounded on Pride. Steadying her stance and taking the child in, she threw daggers at him with her scarlet eyes. Seemingly only a boy, the woman was not so easily fooled anymore now that her mind had finally been filled with the truth of the situation. It was a particular truth, the truth that he was their leader, which stopped her from rushing forward at him in that moment. “You,” she accused, her voice scarily calm considering her actions. “You come in to my ‘ome, you destroy my room, you bring zis chien into my precious Luxe Amour!” Lust dipped her head towards Greed before continuing in an almost deadly whisper. “You may ‘ave dragged me into your ranks, Monsieur. But let me make one zing clear; I ‘ave no brothers.”
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'You were a happy dream in a life that's been nothing but a hellish nightmare'

Tiffanie 'Lust' Marquisa, the Femme Fatale: OOC
Sa’ritae Tyrundlin, the Mistress of the Earth: OOC
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Pride watched intently as Tiffanie began to shake, the smirk he'd had early still firmly on his face. They'd either really annoyed her, or the change from Human to Sister was occuring. As if to answer his question, the voices inside the woman's head were now circling his own. He could hear the words screeching out at the both of them, though it was definitely not as bad for him as it was for her. He remembered his own change like it was yesterday; although it had occured during what he'd thought was a dream. Either way, it had been a rather... intimidating experience. Suddenly, her trembling stopped and all went silent in both room and mind. The smirk widened, and Pride couldn't help but feel his own sin flowing through him like wildfire.

His mission; Accomplished.

As their new sister rose from her sitting position, the child waited for her to lift her head and show them both her "new" face. The unique eye colour that she would now possess, the abilities she now owned. Truly, she would be a marvelous asset to their cause. As if on command - and he really did like the way he felt about that - Lust lifted her head slowly and opened her eyes to reveal the crimson pools. Her face had changed, but not to the point that he couldn't recognise her. Even for a 10 year old child, he could see that she'd become even more of a woman than she'd been before. She was stunning, and that was an understatement.

While the rest of the Brotherhood hadn't had any communication with the Spirits since Pride had recruited him, the boy would forever feel them inside his skull. Luckily for him, this gave him an advantage against what happened next. It seems that we are about to see what she can do... one of the voices let slip in an almost unintelligible whisper. Without a second to lose, the boy quickly side-steppe to the left, watching as his new sister's arm curved around, and as her hand caught the side of his face. It was already apparent that slap wasn't just going to leave a mark there. For the first time since his Father had copped a bullet through the head, Pride was genuinely shocked.

Why hadn't the Spirits kept his Avaricious Brother from harm? Was it not a rule that the Siblings couldn't harm each other without permission? He could hear them swirling around like thoughts in his head, apparently amused by Lust's forceful actions. Suddenly, the thought ticked over in his head. They weren't protecting Greed because they were observing the power of the new recruit. They'd wanted to see her new strength, wanted to see her lash out. For virtuous saints, even to Pride that sounded slightly sick. But soon enough he found out he no longer had time to ponder that thought.

"You."

Her crimson glare shot through him like an arrow, catching him off guard. Lust was pushing all of his boundaries, making him feel things he though he'd never have to feel again now that he'd been given this new life. It made him rather annoyed, the slight twitch returning to the right upper corner of his face. Regardless, his Sister continued, listing all that they'd done to ruin her day. Pride allowed himself to breathe calmly as she talked to him with her mouth and killed him with her stare. It was truly unnerving when she was angry; the boy assumed that when she'd calmed down, those crimson eyes wouldn't look so intimidating. Or, at least, he hoped they wouldn't.

No Brothers, indeed? Pride folded him arms as Lust rather quickly disowned them both. "I understand that this has been a rather abrupt and unexpected change for you, Dear Si-- Lust." He curved his words away from the possibly taboo word. She knew he was the leader, that was for sure, but another wrong turn and it would probably have ceased to matter. "But do give us some time, I promise that this first impression was nothing more than a recruiting exercise. Now that you have joined us, I put it to you that we will seem like saviours rather than villains soon enough. You were not destined for a life in hell." Even when trying to calm an individual down, the boy could help but be sinful, so adamant that she'd made the right decision.

"I hope that you will soon see that, once our Brotherhood is complete, you'll understand..." And then suddenly, Pride did something so out of character, even he had a hard time grasping it. The child bowed, low and full of respect. "My sincerest apologies for the events that have transpired here today, minus your recruitment into my Brotherhood. I wait in the hope that one day, you may forgive me." Coming up from the bow, Pride looked his sister directly in her eyes. The violet shade had lost its cold glaze, now soft and warm. "Shall we go, Lust?" With that, he stood aside and held a hand towards the now decayed double doors.

He turned to face Greed momentarily, and suddenly the violet gaze ran cold once more. "Greed, time to leave." He was disappointed in his brother, but also disappointed in himself. While things had certainly been a success, had it really been all that necessary to decay her entire room? The answer was no, and if he was completely honest, he thought the symbolism of it all was revolting. The child vowed to himself that next time, more thought would be much appreciated before pulling such an act again. They had been far too reckless, and they'd been lucky to get off with a warning; if they could've called it that...

Silently, the Leader waited for someone to make a move.

'Friends will come and go, but you're stuck with your Mates forever."
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Scarecrow watched with mild amusement as his target strolled down the quiet London road. It was 7am on a Sunday morning and it was raining, which wasn’t unnatural for a London winter. As the target walked through the rain Scarecrow began to laugh quietly. This was going to be good. The target’s name was Belinda Gyle, and she was quite a virtuous woman. Short, but not fat, her shoulder length blonde hair was saturated with water, so much so that the water ran in streams across her face and down her back. Today she was wearing a black coat, and under that, a modest dress that ended well below the knee. She was beautiful, but naive.

Despite the heavy rain, Belinda powered towards her destination with an astounding determination. Aware that she was getting away, Scarecrow leapt down from the tree and followed her carefully. After fifteen minutes of solid walking Belinda’s destination loomed up over the tops of the houses. It was big; in fact it dwarfed its surroundings with ease with its spire easily the most visible thing for miles. Scarecrow snorted; another giant building made in homage to a God they only pretended to understand, this was another example of how naive humans really were. ‘Knowing where the target was headed made things so much easier’ reflected Scarecrow. In a matter of seconds he had morphed into the shape of a Black Raven and overtook the target.

Belinda walked into Westminster Cathedral with a certainty that this was she belonged. She loved helping people but she knew that she must reconcile first. She knelt down and began to pray silently. She heard the footsteps approaching but with a devoutness that eluded many, she finished her prayers before looking up to see who had approached.
“Oh! Good morning Father” she stammered nervously, “I didn’t think you would be around this early before Mass.” The priest smiled genially at her, blue eyes glinting in the sunlight.
“Don’t stress my child; I too like the quietness that the early morning provides.” He laughed and ran his hands through his brown hair carelessly. “Listen, I’m kinda new here, but you strike as me as a devoutly religious person so I was wondering if you would like to read at this morning’s mass?” He knelt gently and placed a hand on her shoulder as he waited for her response.
“Father! I’d, I’d love too!” she blushed at her own eagerness but the priest seemed unfazed by her reaction and merely smiled at her again. ‘He is so friendly!’ she thought.
“Excellent! Then I would have you read a passage from the Epistle of Saint Peter. Chapter 4: Verses 7-11 if that is agreeable to you?” She smiled naively again and seemed lost for words.
“Father, I won’t let you down, I promise!” she blushed as the priest smiled knowingly again.
“I know you won’t my child, you will perform amicably.”

It was several hours later during the mass that Belinda got to do her reading. Her excitement had been growing considerably since she was assigned the reading and it now reached boiling point. ‘If I do this well enough, maybe I could do this regularly’ she imagined herself as a respected contributor to her church and how it would be helping lots of people. The sound of her name broke her out of her mental reverie and she walked to the lectern nervously. She began her readings slowly but surely, occasionally glancing towards the priest for reassurance. She started suddenly when she realised that the priest from earlier was not amongst them.

She continued her reading and had got as far as ‘the end is nigh!’ when she noticed the priest from earlier standing at the back of the church laughing to himself. The congregation suddenly gasped and Belinda let out an agonising scream as her entire body was engulfed in flames. It was over within seconds but Belinda had been in agony the entire way.

It was a simple trick, one that any successful demon assassin should know. You place a small device onto the victim and when the right words were said, it would detonate, engulfing the victim in Hellfyre. In this case the right words were 'The end is nigh', suitably fitting. Hellfyre was one of many tricks Scarecrow possessed in his arsenal.

With the attention of the congregation elsewhere Scarecrow allowed himself a moment to remove the priest garments and leave the Cathedral unnoticed. He smiled as he morphed into his raven form and as he flew way he was quite satisfied that another part of his long mission had been completed.
Edited by Scarecrow, May 14, 2011, 5:07 am.
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