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[Graded]A Dandelion Sector Story
Topic Started: Apr 5 2015, 08:38 PM (769 Views)
Mazohyst
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Stay the course.

The sky was tuned to the color of a dead television, pale gray with a few spots of white and blue static. Dandelion Sector was a city constantly mired and drenched in a permanent blanket of fog. Due it its position at the southern coast of Fiore, and the northerly coastal winds clashing with the southerly winds that originated from the peaks and ranges of Mt. Hakobe, the city was cold, even as the rest of the kingdom's lands began to blossom with flowering buds and wildlife. Dandelion Sector was an outlier, always was, given it's less than noble history and cold coastal climate.

Some scraped for warmth in alleyways, nestled closely together in tight packs as they lingered about the rotten-smelling flames and smoke of garbage fires. Others preferred the comforts of a hearth and mead or other alcoholic spirits in their bellies. The man huddled in the corner of the tavern, dark blue hood pulled closely over his head, face shadowed, was among that sort. He sat calmly, hand-rolled herbal cigarette in one hand between finger and thumb, and a bottle of whiskey in the other hand. Through the shadow cast by his hooded jacket, his dark brown eyes watched, as if carefully observing and taking in all the sights, as if judging the patrons of the tavern.

Perhaps such a judgmental stare was warranted. The tavern was filled with rowdy patrons, and for a rough and tumble city like Dandelion, some degree of rowdiness was normal if not utterly accepted. Holidays, of course, invited all sorts of festivities, and with it came rampant drinking. What's a holiday if not an excuse to get shitfaced drunk? That's how most people in Dandelion saw it, though by no means was it a train of thought exclusively tied to this one city alone. Still, it was ironic, Artorius thought, that one of the most holy weeks in one of the major religions of the continent was celebrated in such a fashion.

He shrugged his shoulders and puffed on his cigar. Dandelion Sector at it's finest.
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Spider-Jay
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The Dandelion Sector. Definitely not a place for kids. Before setting out on his quest to find Ecclair; Marshall was warned multiple times to never set put in this seemingly forsaken place. That reason alone was why Marshall came here, just to be rebellious. The sky was a depressing shade of grey, making the already depressing scenery that much worse. People went about their daily life not bothering to pay Marshall any mind; however Marshall found it hard not to stare. Most people he passed looked normal, but every now and then he passed somebody who was obviously some kind of murderer. Marshall had heard rumors about the Sector. Everybody was always talking about how bad this part of Fiore is; always talking about the people who actually lived here like they weren't even humans. Marshall didn't partake in such things, all it served to do was breed hatred and segregation. He decided to ignore the rumors and come here for himself, just to see for himself just what these people were like.

It was sad to see that most of the rumors held some truth. Compared to the sprawling metropolises that were dotted across Fiore Dandelion was a disappointment. But what did Marshall expect? Rumors always came from some kind of truth after all. Marshall wasn't even sure what he was doing here, there were no sites to see and nothing to do for somebody his age. His dark and often called 'shady' clothing only was probably why these people didn't identify him as a tourist (if they even got those around here). Pretty much every other building he passed by was for adults only.

Marshall really needed a place to go, something to do. He had took the time to visit the Sector so he might as well try and do something here other then wander the streets right? He decided he'd enter one of the local taverns and try to find something to eat. He stepped through the door and was immediately embraced by the noise. His entrance changed nothing, nobody but the bartender bothered to look and see who had entered. Marshall hoped he wouldn't get kicked out for being underage... he was hungry and didn't want to try and find a family friendly restaurant.
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Mazohyst
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Stay the course.

A kid entered the tavern. Wasn't he a little young for a place like this? Artorius thought to himself. Though, in hindsight, it's not like something as frivolous as age ever stopped a much younger Artorius from ever getting into danger. Rather, he lived, breathed, and ate on risk, it was the spice of life, really. Nevertheless, while the kid had a rather fierce look into his eyes, a classic trait of either a born fighter or a survivor of some sort of deep-seated struggle, he lacked experience. Specifically, the experience to know when he was followed.

There were three men behind the kid, roughly a distance of three meters. They didn't move casually, but rather with purpose. Artorius could smell the sweat on their skin and the rust on the blades they wielded beneath torn, ragged clothes. As soon as the young man entered the tavern, the three entered just shortly after. One stayed directly behind the kid, the others moved to the front and to the side. The only side that they didn't cover was naturally handled by the tavern's wall. They had encircled him, like ravenous wolves stalking prey. Artorius immediately knew what their target was, but why they were targeting a kid was beyond him. Though, seeing hits like these weren't all too uncommon.

Violence was an everyday part of life. Taverns get shot up, men die grasping for air in back alleys, women are savaged to death, and children either starve or lose fingers when they get caught stealing. It was the way of life here, but that didn't mean Artorius had to like it, especially when kids were involved. Though he acted like he had a hardened heart, truthfully the man was just a big softie. Yet, Artorius only watched as the three men drew clubs and blades. Hopefully that kid had those swords on his back for a reason.

"We're taking you down, Artorius Sidonis! You'll be making us a helluva lot of money!"
Then, they charged at the kid.

Wait. What?
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Spider-Jay
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Marshall took a step further into the tavern. Nobody challenged him so he took that as a go ahead. A few people walked in behind him, and seemed to surround him. What the hell? They were the only ones who seemed to find it odd that Marshall was in the bar, they looked at him like he was some kind of prize. "Didn't your mothers ever tell you that it's rude to stare?" Marshall shifted uncomfortably in place, he drew his swords and held them at the ready. What did these guy's want? Marshall had no money n him, everything he bought was billed to his foster parents. Maybe they wanted to take his swords? Or maybe they wanted to sell him for ransom? Maybe they all just liked surrounding people. They looked like a bunch of lions that had found their food.

Then one of them spoke, shouting in Marshalls direction. He formed an iron spike above his hand and fired it at the guy that was to the left of him. They all rushed him, not giving a chance to tell them he wasn't this Artorius guy. Marshall wasn't strong enough, or skilled enough to know what to do other then swing like a mad man. He spun around and slashed at the guy behind him with the sword that was in his left hand (Dark Repulsor) then he then slashed wildly at the guy on his right with Elucidator. He was in panic mode, maybe coming to the Sector wasn't a good idea? If he would of known he would be mistaken for some guy that apparently had some kind of bounty on his head he would of stayed at home.

Around him the people in the bar turned their heads and finally noticed Marshall. They weren't looking at him with worried eyes tho, they looked at him as if he was a source of entertainment. A few of them chuckled as the fight progressed, some of them started to place bets on the winner.

Marshall continued to resist his potential captors, swinging like a mad man. He was wasting energy swinging around his heavy swords like that, he was slowing down. He swung at the guy to his left trying his hardest not to be done in by his captors......
Edited by Spider-Jay, Apr 5 2015, 11:56 PM.
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Mazohyst
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Stay the course.

The kid had some skill with the sword, Artorius had to admit. Yet, he wasn't faring incredibly well since he was against numerous opponents. They were larger than he was, and perhaps stronger too. Skill can only take you so far. Not only that, but patrons of the tavern were beginning to murmur amongst each other, whispering and gossiping about the kid that had gotten himself jumped. Or, more correctly, had gotten jumped. He had nothing to do with it, just had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. With prospects of collecting a bounty, patrons were getting wiley, breaking bottles and smashing chairs, intending on using them like clubs. However, one false accidental swing, and patrons began hitting each other instead of the target in the middle. A bar brawl at its finest, with spit and blood and teeth and sweat sailing in every single direction.

Part of Artorius wanted to sit back and enjoy his smoke and his drink. Another part of him wanted to help the poor kid who was mistaken for someone else, for himself. Ultimately, Artorius had made his decision, justifying it to himself in the most logical way possible. People were after Artorius. Ordinarily, this was no surprise given his face was plastered on countless wanted posters. They always got the face wrong though, he'd say. However, these men weren't ordinary bounty hunters, which were relatively common here in Dandelion. Yet, no one went after Artorius with such paltry numbers and equipment. There had to be some ulterior reason. Someone was trying to root Artorius out, for one reason or another, and Artorius intended on finding out why. Helping this kid, or rather, taking down those three bashers was the first step.

Instinctively, Artorius put a hand to his blade, but he stopped after telling himself that he needed at least one of these blokes alive. Balling his hands into a fist, Artorius strode into the thick of the now heated bar brawl. In an instant, Artorius closed the distance. The way he moved was unnatural for a human, almost primal, like the skulking of a predatory jungle cat stalking prey. Then, with the same poise and grace of a cat, all limbs coiled and muscles ready to burst, he lunged forward in an explosive movement. His limbs moved too fast for normal eyes to see, becoming a whirlwind of knees and feet and elbows and fists. Much of the fighters fell to their knees, and Artorius incapacitated the three bashers in a blink of an eye.

"Come with me if you want to live, kid," the still-hooded Artorius said to him. In Artorius' grasp was the back of the collar of one of the men. The guy was huge, standing at least six feet tall and was heavier than a heavyweight. Yet, the hooded man dragged him with ease, pulling him out of the tavern like it was nothing.
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Spider-Jay
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Marshall had inadvertently started a brawl. All around him people started to fight because of his battle with the three bounty hunters. Marshall was being beaten, there were just to many of them. The first drop of sweat fell from Marshalls brow, he was struggling to keep up his ridiculous pace. If only he hadn't come to the sector, maybe he wouldn't be in this mess. Marshall was just about to be done in when something happened. Around him the men dropped like flies, a blur of blue taking them out one by one. What the hell? Marshall had yet to meet anybody who could move like that, he had heard rumors but rumors were only rumors. This guy that had saved him was a living breathing monster, Marshall loved it. The way the man took down those thugs without breaking a sweat, the way he made a heroic entrance. This guy was everything Marshall wanted to be. "Holy shit dude..." Marshall was dumbfounded, this guy was just amazing. He wore a hoodie that hid his face pretty well, but he was obviously quite a bit older than Marshall.

He nodded at him unable to find his words, it was just hard to believe people like him existed. Marshall followed him out of the rowdy tavern and back into the street, he was dragging the grown man like it was easy. Marshall kept his swords out just incase but he doubted anybody else would dare attack them. He looked around and nobody turned to look what was going on inside of the bar. "Um.. Thanks for saving me I don't know who those guy's thought I was but I promise you I've done nothing to earn a bounty or be kidnapped." Marshall explained quickly, trying to clear the air with the man. He rubbed the back of his head flustered. From that position he sheathed his swords figuring the worst was behind him. "Oh uh, I'm Marshall; Marshall Bellum. He didn't usually give out his last name because he didn't want anybody to connect him with his cousin and bum rush him or something. But this guy had saved Marshalls life, the least he could do was give him his full name. Marshall second guessed his decision. He was in the Dandelion Sector after all, he imagined his cousin had made some enemies over the years and most of them probably lived here.

Marshall brushed some dust off of his coat, and tugged on it un wrinkling some of it. He stood up straight trying to look bigger in the eyes of the guy who had just saved him. "So uh, not that I don't appreciate your help but uh... why would you help me? Aren't you in the Sector for a reason, why would somebody like you help me?"
Marshall didn't mean to generalize, but it was kind of hard given the things he has scene thus far....
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Mazohyst
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Stay the course.

The hooded man considered not telling the kid his name. However, Artorius figured he had to have at least some degree of obligation to do so. After all, there were people trying to kill Marshall, and the reason was that they were going after Artorius. The least Artorius could do was give him a name and an explanation. Artorius himself hated being kept in the dark, although it was quite expected. Though he hated lies and illusions, truth be told, Artorius lived in lies and illusions. That was the name of the game in a city populated by robbers, thieves, and cutthroats. Either way, Artorius planned on explaining things, but with one caveat. "I'll tell you everything you need to know, kid, just not here. Now, grit your teeth."

In an instant, Artorius gave Marshall a quick hit on the back of the head. As the kid likely fell to the ground, unconscious, Artorius began to wonder if he had hit him too hard. Fortunately, there was no seizing or frothing at the mouth, so Artorius considered Marshall was probably fine. Either way, Artorius planned to haul him over his shoulder and dragged him and the knocked out basher out of the open street and into somewhere more private.

Marshall, and the thug, would wake up to the interior of a small, dilapidated apartment. The windows were boarded up, and whatever light shone through the cracks was dimmed by the drapes and curtains that hung over them. Dim, flickering, fluorescent lights hung overhead. Artorius had thrown Marshall over on one of the cots to rest up. However, the basher that Artorius dragged along wasn't given anywhere near as much hospitality. Instead, he was chained and strapped to a torn leather chair, bruised and beaten. Meanwhile, Artorius stood idly in the room, polishing a steel knife.

Turning his attention, Artorius noticed Marshall had begun to stir. "I was beginning to wonder if I hit you too hard. Sorry about that. Nasty bit of business, really, but I can't exactly go about revealing the location of one of my safe houses," Artorius said to Marshall. While Artorius' actions were rather hostile, Artorius spoke charmingly and friendly enough. Truthfully, he had the best of intentions, but criminals aren't exactly the sort with the best manners. Though, at least Artorius was hospitable. "There's food on that table next to you. Eat up, and I'll explain why there's men trying to kill you. Or rather, both of us."
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Spider-Jay
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Why was he asking him to grit his teeth? Marshall's last words before he was hit unexpectedly. Marshall crumpled into Artorius' hands and could actually remember nothing that happened in the time it took for him to get to what was apparently a safe house. Marshall sat up in his cot holding his head, god damn that really hurt. Marshall looked at Artorius and swung his legs onto the floor. He places his face in his hands and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "Fuck man... I swear I wouldn't have told anybody" Marshall said as he stood up slowly. He grabbed a piece of food off the table and took a bite, at least it tasted better then the room looked.

Marshall took another bite and looked at his savior. Marshall looked down at his food and realized he was eating a steak.... with his bare hands. He just shrugged and took another bite. "Uhm... I'm not to bright but let me guess" Marshall said pointing at Artorius as he came to a realization. "You're Arty Shitonus and those guy's thought I was you?" Marshall said taking a shot in the dark. He knew he had the guy's name wrong but he had barely heard it over his heart beat. Marshall didn't know if he should be upset or not, Arty was obviously a good guy so why did those thugs want him?

For the first time Marshall noticed the other person in the room, probably the thug Arty had grabbed. Marshall took a bite of his steak, he was about half way done with it now. "SO tell me Mr. Shitonus why were those guy's after us, you, me?" Marshall asked, his mouth full of steak. He looked at the thug in the chair and threw his steak at him. "Who is the guy in the chair?" Marshall asked rather abruptly trying to change the subject.
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Mazohyst
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Stay the course.

"Probably," Artorius grimly smirked. "I still wouldn't chance it though. You never know. Caution is what's kept me alive this long, and I don't intend on breaking that streak." Though, technically he wasn't truly alive, but that was a matter for another time. Either way, Artorius was right. Living in a city like this, and belonging to a criminal lifestyle that demanded caution or served injury or death, caution was the natural way of things. It's like they always say -- better safe than sorry.

As Artorius waited for Marshall to get himself together and fill his stomach, Artorius pulled a chair up and popped a hand-rolled cigar in his mouth as he sat. Lighting it with a flick of a zippo, he shot a casual glance in Marshall's direction. "Close," Artorius replied before taking a long, heavy drag on his cigar. Artorius held the smoke in his lungs, enjoying the herbal flavor and scent, before breathing out a thick, dense cloud of smoke as if to punctuate his statement. Or, perhaps simply to make his joke all the more poignant. "...but no cigar." He always did have a rather grim, strange sense of humor.

"It's Artorius Sidonis, by the way. I think it's in your best interest to remember that," Artorius said to him with a calm smile, but it belied a more dreadfully serious, sinister glare. A single look in his eyes was telling, showing what Artorius was all about. The man wasn't the sort to be trifled with, and he made that clear, though at the same time it wasn't as though he was without some degree of humor. Cynical wit and humor was the one of the only things that kept his head on his shoulders. "But a good effort, nonetheless."

"Straight to the point. Good," Artorius replied as he turned his attention back towards the man in the chair. "He's what we folk here in Dandelion call a "Basher". A bloke hired to bash people around, essentially. Here's the thing though. I've seen this guy and his buddies around, they should know not to pick fights above their weight class," the man paused, standing up and walking over to the man who was conscious after being hit with a steak. "Isn't that right?" The man only grumbled and cowered in response, but was otherwise silent. "Here's the thing. They were obviously hired. Their target, however, wasn't you. It was me they're after, but now here's where you come in."

"A whole tavern full of people saw your face after this guy and his clowns accused and attacked you of being, well, me. So, you have at least half a city chasing after you, who they think is actually me. That make sense? Either way, it's a dangerous bit of business. So, I'm going to give you a few options, Marshall."

"The first is you can help me find out why exactly I'm being targeted and clear our names. Granted, I know I'm wanted, I've seen my face on many a poster, but I'm being targeted for something other than the bounty. That much seems clear here."

"The second option is I smuggle you out of Dandelion. But it's quite possible you'll be followed and tracked out of here. Personally, the moment you're out of Dandelion and my hair, it's not my problem anymore."

"The third option is I throw you out there and they'll string you up on the gallows. Of course, they'll learn that you aren't really me, but it'll at least buy me some time. Obviously, I don't think you'll enjoy that option."

"So, which will it be?"
Edited by Mazohyst, Apr 6 2015, 02:56 AM.
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Spider-Jay
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"I don't know man, you drive a hard bargain" Maybe replying sarcastically wasn't in his best interests but Marshall figured a little humor wouldn't hurt anybody. "As appealing as offer number three sounds I think I may give it up for number two cause you know there's nothing like running for your life with no help" Marshall quipped. "Yea... that was a joke I'ma go with number one the lesser of three dangerous situations, but hay what's life without the risk of death right?" Marshall was probably joking around to much for his own good, but it was his first reaction. In truth he was scared shitless and was using his jokes as a shield.

"So... now that we're acquainted how about you introduce me to steak face over there on the chair" Marshall turned towards the man who had been hit with the steak. "I have a bone to pick with him, he got his ugly on my coat" Marshall said his back turned to Artorius. The guy was pretty scary, good thing he was on Marshalls side. Artorius was probably the coolest guy Marshall had ever met. The guy basically the epitome of human fitness and he smoked while making bad ass puns about it. He was basically everything Marshall wanted to be (accept for the wanted posters).

"So I'm guessing you have a lot of people who want to kill you. Which don't get me wrong, it's cool and all but do we have any way to narrow it down? Maybe an ex girlfriend who didn't like staying on a cot?" Marshall paused. "All tho if she knew how good your steak was she probably would have stayed if you told her you were gonna make breakfast. Like seriously maybe sausage wasn't her thing but that steak was pretty good " Marshall said tilting his head completely serious.

"Back to the matter at hand, do we get to torture this guy? If so can I be the bad cop?" Marshall turned back towards Artorius a sloppy grin on his face. Marshall didn't really want to torture the guy, but he did want to give him a few good hits as payback for their run in earlier. Hopefully he'd get to.....
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