The Fictionals: Black of Heart (Villain and Nom De Plume)
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		<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Non-Adult Sandbox =&gt; Non-Adult Roleplays =&gt; Topic started by: Villain on June 19, 2011, 08:14:25 pm</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>The Fictionals: Black of Heart (Villain and Nom De Plume)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Villain</strong> on <strong>June 19, 2011, 08:14:25 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_u">The Fictionals: Black of Heart</span></strong></div><br>The evening had been pleasent for the three gentlemen. They had met at a fine restaurant early in the evening for dinner before later retiring to the household of the gentlemen who had organised this meeting to discuss work and other subjects. To some this could be considered a perfectly normal dinner followed by a perfectly normal conversation at a perfectly normal house. To others this could be considered a collaboration of demons.<br>&nbsp; These men were not gentlemen, for to say that they were gentlemen would imply that they acted like civilised human beings. The truth of the matter is that these men were monsters.<br>&nbsp; Monsters who enjoyed sitting before a roaring fire in a large room made of oak and gold whilst sipping on wine and nibbling expensive cheeses. They sat in large red leather arm chairs and quietly munched and slurped the treats that had been given to them by the butler of the house.<br>&nbsp; 'Thank you for picking up the bill Hubert. That was decent of you.' One of the men spoke; a young thin man dressed in a casual black smoking jacket with white pants and black slippers. His face was lean and thin with skin the colour of bleached bones. His hair was dark and neatly slicked back and his lips were thin and cracked.<br>&nbsp; 'I-It was my pleasure Mr Spring. Y-you know I a-always look forward to your c-c-company' The nervous voice of a trembling old man replied. He was sat on the left of the thin lipped gentlemen. He was an old frail looking creature with wispy white hair and a thin white beard that forked outwards like the spikes of a trident. He was dressed in a shabby dark grey suit that looked as if a family of moths had been snacking on it for hours.<br>&nbsp; 'Stop your shaking you old coot! If you're cold then get closer to the fire! Or is the great Faust afraid that the devil is going to jump out of the fire place?' Spat the third gentlemen; a muscular man with long curly black hair and a hook nose that hung above a thick moustache. He was dressed in the uniform of a sea captain. Gold stripes crossed on his shoulders and the cuffs of his suit collar and there were large gold buttons running down the front of it.<br>&nbsp; 'Please will you not use my true name Mr Roger!' The old man exclaimed. His frail and weak appearance fading for a moment as he angrily pointed a finger at the sea captain.<br>&nbsp; 'Oooo look at how the old wizard barks! A man like you wouldn't last a day on my ship.' The captain cackled and waggled his finger accusingly at the old man.<br>&nbsp; 'Mr Rogers...' The thin gentlemen in the middle spoke, '...do not antagonise my guest. You are a welcome guest in my home but I will not tolerate childish behaviour.' The man warned, casting a glance at the dark haired brute.<br>&nbsp; 'Very well. I do hope you'll enlighten me to why you have asked me here Mr Spring. I'm a very busy man. I have a ship to return to and a crew to order about' The captain sneered before taking a big gulp of wine.<br>&nbsp; 'As you wish Mr Rogers' Mr Spring spoke with a calm nod before getting to his feet and pulling out a photograph from his pocket.<br>&nbsp; 'I have recently come across evidence to suggest that a young man has recently discovered that he was once the mad scientist known as Victor Frankenstein' He paused for a moment to judge his guests reaction. The old man had gone back to trembling and the captain was now scratching his chin with interest.<br>&nbsp; 'As you can imagine being able to bring the dead back to life would be a vital resource for our organisation. Unfortunately this young man seems to be rather good at hiding himself. I have had agents scouring the country trying to locate him, but it seems as if he has vanished into thin air' Mr Spring seemed to chuckle as he said the last part of his sentence. It was as if he had said a joke that only he was aware of.<br>&nbsp; 'So you wish me to find this young man?' The captain asked before grinning widely at him, 'You certainly have made the right choice. You'll have him on your front door step by tomorrow morning'<br>&nbsp; 'I don't doubt your abilities Mr Rogers but please do not get too carried away' Mr Spring spoke softly as he paced in front of the fire place, casting a shadow over her guests 'I don't wish to waste your time finding this child. Instead I wish for you to locate another young man. His name is; Evan T. Carwell and I believe he will be able to locate our target within mere hours'<br>&nbsp; 'What? A boy who can outdo me?' The captain sneered, looking rather insulted at the idea.<br>&nbsp; 'Try not too feel insulted Mr Rogers. The boy will have help after all. He will more than likely encounter a member of that rag tag group of misfits at Woodmore Highschool, probably Alistair Croft seeing as he specialises in criminals.' Mr Spring spoke, his voice containing a hint of venom as he spoke the name, 'I propose we capitalise on this and use their talents to serve our goals'<br>&nbsp; 'Faust here has been working tirelessly to find the all power book that will help fortify the dead flesh that the young lad will animate. The book has so far appeared to be as elusive as Mr Frankenstein, however I suspect if we use those two boys then we shall find what we are looking for within a very short amount of time' Mr Spring explained cheerfully while the old man squirmed uncomfortably in his chair.<br>&nbsp; 'Mr Spring please don't use my true name. I prefer-'<br>&nbsp; 'I also plan on eliminating them once they have proven to be of no more use' Mr Spring spoke firmly and cast a scowl at the old man. His threat was clear. If the old man didn't stop his whining then he would be considered to be useless and would be executed like the boys.<br>&nbsp; 'I trust you will have no quarrels concerning this matter?' He asked as he turned to face the captain.<br>&nbsp; 'None at all. Those boys will be caught and will use their abilities or else they'll walk the plank' The captain spoke before rising from his seat and downing the rest of his wine in one big gulp.<br>&nbsp; 'Thank you Mr Rogers. I do appreciate you're cooperation'<br>&nbsp; 'It is my pleasure Mr Spring. After all I do feel somewhat indebted to you after you helped me locate and slay my nemesis.' The captain spoke before throwing back his head and laughing cruelly.<br>&nbsp; 'I'll never forget the look of shock on his face. It'll be with me until I go down with my ship!'<br>&nbsp; 'I'm glad to have been of service Mr Rogers'<br>&nbsp; 'Please Mr Spring. I prefer Hook.' The Captain spoke before lifting his right arm and waving it dismissively. Faust flinched as he watched the arm sway, for on the end of it was no hand, just a large silver hook.<br>&nbsp; 'Captain James Hook' He spoke maliciously before turning on the spot and making his way out of the room. His heavy black boots thumping against the hard oak floor.<br><br><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_u">Monday</span></strong></div><br>Alistair Croft was an unhappy kid and this made him a terrible person. Normal kids would have been happy to be in his situation. School had just ended, he had no homework to complete and had an entire evening to do whatever the heck he wanted. Not to mention that he currently had a couple of bucks in his pocket that his mother had given to him for cleaning up the yard the previous day. He was rich, healthy, young and had all the time in the world, but Alistair was still miserable.<br>&nbsp; The cause of his gloom was due to the sad truth that no one was trying to kill him. In the last few weeks the book club that he and his friend Lulu Carol ran had gained more members and been on more adventures than ever before. A lot of these adventures had almost resulted in him being killed in cruel and inventive ways, but lately opportunities for adventures and near death experiences had been very scarce and this frustrated Alistair to no end.<br>&nbsp; He sighed and rested his head on the palms of her hands. He was sitting on a bench outside a super store and was currently sipping coke and munching on a bag of spicy chips.<br>&nbsp; 'I guess it's not all that bad.' He mumbled to himself as he thought over some of the things he had done over the last few weeks in an attempt to cheer himself up.<br>&nbsp; The club party had been fun. Lulu had wanted to throw one in order to welcome their newest members; Emily, a lovely girl who was fierce as a spartan warrior and Casey, a pyrokenetic that could burn down a school if she got too angry. Lulu had done a good job of turning their library into a disco. She had balanced plates of party food on the book cases and cleared enough space for them to dance when she had plugged in a huge stero system.<br>&nbsp; He smiled to himself as he remembered how they had laughed as Lulu had tugged Emily onto the dance floor and made her do a two person conga. After she had dragged the poor girl around the dance floor she had forced him to drag Casey up onto the floor and dance to a mushy love song. It had been a terrible idea, he had stepped on her feet three times...but it was also one of the most exciting experiences of his life.<br>&nbsp; He still could remember how she had felt in his arms as they had swayed on the dance floor. He could still feel her breath against his neck and the soft touch of her flame red hair against his cheek. He could still remember how green and deep her eyes had been when their eyes had connected for that one lucky moment. He could still remember the scent of her perfume, the warmth of her body....the curve of her delicate lips.<br>&nbsp; 'Whoa. Hold on there. Sherlock Holmes doesn't do that!' He cursed, feeling his cheeks burn as he snapped himself out of the silly day dream before cursing again as he realised he had poured his coke into his bag of chips.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Fictionals: Black of Heart (Villain and Nom De Plume)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nom De Plume</strong> on <strong>June 19, 2011, 11:16:13 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Evan Carwell stared hard at the sketch posted on the <em>Be On Lookout</em> board inside the staff offices. He craned his head to the right, and then left, squinting under the brown cap crushed down on his head, as if puzzling out some sort of question. "Hm. He gave me a double chin." His eyebrows climbed up his head for a moment. It added ten pounds to his face, at least. A woman's voice cut in from behind him; "Why isn't this thing working?"<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;"Keep trying," Carwell chimed. He carefully pulled the pin away from the page and back into the corkboard. His fingers dextrously folded the paper as he turned to face the only other occupant in the room- a younger woman, in managers clothes, fiddling with an electronic UPS delivery signature pad. His hand slipped into the brown, unbuttoned shirt, tucking the folded sheet under his arm. He advanced on the woman, shifting the pad around. "Oh, jeez. Forgot to hit this button," he admonished himself briefly, rolling his thumb over the pad for a moment. He sensed the woman roll her eyes behind his back. He only offered the woman a small grin, handing the pad back to her.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;By the time he'd left through the back door, he'd removed his hat and the brown shirt tucked into the dark-colored pants- wearing a white t-shirt, a note, and a coil of wire with no less than three portable hard-drives hanging from their own cords, as well as a display case of jewelery. The former was for a favor- the latter, for a plan somewhere in the future. Both were relatively worthless compared to his last visit, and he pondered briefly if he should have tried to get the woman's number, too as he packed the items in his shirt before tying it into a bundle.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;He circled around the side and walked right past the row of benches, brimming with happiness. No hitches, no victims, and best of all- No one would suspect a thing until he was long gone.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Fictionals: Black of Heart (Villain and Nom De Plume)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Villain</strong> on <strong>June 20, 2011, 05:36:02 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Alistair glanced at the people that walked in front of him. There were a lot of people out considering that it was nearing the end of the day. School was out and for some people work had ended so the streets were full of people rushing to get home. It wasn't a sentiment that Alistair shared, for going home would mean having to be alone with his step father David until his mom got back from work. David was a tall thin man with circular spectacles and neat blond hair that was gradually falling out.<br>&nbsp; He and Alistair had never really gotten along due to the fact that David hated that Alistair was smarter than him. David taught at the local university and had often prided himself on being something of an influencial figure. When he had brought home his work, he had loved telling Alistair and his mother every little detail about how he figured out the solution to a biological problem that had most of the lecturers stumped. Alistair had taken one look at the problem and offered not only a solution, but a solution that was more fesible than the one David had come up with. David hadn't liked that at all.<br>&nbsp; 'Hold up...' Alistair mumbled curiously as his thoughts were interrupted as his gaze landed on a young man that had just walked past the bench he sat on. He didn't quite know what it was about the young man that intrigued him, but he couldn't help but feel alarm bells go off inside his head.<br>&nbsp; He got to his feet and began to walk after the young man whilst mentally noting down his physical features and what clues his outfit was giving him. He knew that something about this boy felt odd and that he needed to find out what it was.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Fictionals: Black of Heart (Villain and Nom De Plume)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nom De Plume</strong> on <strong>June 20, 2011, 01:07:03 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;All Evan had to do was walk to the car and drive home (did he ever love being seventeen) and he'd be scott-free. Walking away was never easy- his paranoia was always at its worst here. There was always the inkling that something would go wrong- that he would be caught, right before escaping. As far as he could tell, though, everything was going smoothly. He fished his phone out of his pocket as he walked, checking the time; it was getting late. He'd have to return the car before his mother arrived, or he might have more trouble on his hands than he bargained for. He held the phone up, switching it off- the mirrored surface of the screen catching his reflection. He scratched at his chin with his other hand, still laden with a shirt stuffed with stolen goods. He wondered idly if he should shave soon.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;That's when he spotted Alistair tailing him for the first time, his tall figure visible in the crowd displayed in the polarized surface. He didn't think anything of it at first. He pocketed the phone, switching the parcel from hand to hand. Another fifty meters to the car. He couldn't help but glance over his shoulder, back to the super-store. A chill ran down his spine. The crowd had partially dispersed.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; But the tall kid was still following him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Fictionals: Black of Heart (Villain and Nom De Plume)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Villain</strong> on <strong>June 21, 2011, 11:59:48 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				'The shirt in his arm is too small to be that big once it's rolled up, he's clearly hiding things inside of it. He moved the package from his left arm to his right arm a few times, he's nervous about dropping it or someone knocking it out of his arms.' Alistair mumbled to himself as he continued his pursuit of the stranger. He hoped that his instincts were right. Not just because it would be embarrassing if he was following a complete stranger for no reason, but also because this meant that his recent thirst for excitement might be satisfied.<br>&nbsp; 'No...he didn't move the package to his other arm because he's nervous about dropping it. He did it because he saw my reflection in his phone. He knows I'm following him.' Alistair spoke after watching the stranger look back at him.<br>&nbsp; 'He's small but athletic. His build shows signs of physical fitness as well as notable bruises and scars, he's a fighter. He'll try to keep whatever he's stole so his weak point will be the occupied arm.' Alistair quietly mumbled as he began to rapidly calculate the chances of being able to take the young man down.<br>&nbsp; 'But he knows this. And he knows that I'm on to him and that I'm going to try and bring him down.' Alistair spoke softly before coming to a stop, 'So what are you going to do thief? Leave what you stole, run or fight me?'
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Fictionals: Black of Heart (Villain and Nom De Plume)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nom De Plume</strong> on <strong>June 21, 2011, 04:38:03 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Evan seemed unperturbed- if he had seen or heard Alistair, he did not act on it. His mind, however, remained a hornet's nest of paranoid contemplation. He slowed to a stop, kneeling; his hands carefully peeled the pant leg up his shoe. Evan's other foot angled itself oddly, drifting back and forth, his leg relaxed. His laces were firmly tied- in fact, the knot had been burnt, effectively fusing the nylon drawstrings into balls of ocher plastic. His hands went through the motions of tightening his shoe anyways- it would give the would-be-detective all the time in the world to make up his mind. He'd find out whether Alistair had really intended to follow him- for better or for worse.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Fictionals: Black of Heart (Villain and Nom De Plume)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Villain</strong> on <strong>June 22, 2011, 02:35:38 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Alistair didn't realise that Evan was faking tieing his shoe laces. Although he did possess a large amount of intelligence concerning criminals and his powers of observation were more effective than most, but he wasn't as perfect as the great Sherlock Holmes.<br>&nbsp; He decided to close in on Evan and use the chance to observe the package he carried more closely. If he could see the pacckage more clearly then maybe he would be able to confirm whether he was right to approach the stranger.<br>&nbsp; He walked towards Evan, bringing out his bag of chips and helping himself to a few of them in an attempt to give the appearance of casually walking by.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Fictionals: Black of Heart (Villain and Nom De Plume)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nom De Plume</strong> on <strong>June 22, 2011, 08:53:48 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Evan had watched as Allistair went from standing idly to lurching over from the reflection of a nearby tail pipe, his face darkening. So it is settled. If the boy wanted trouble, Evan would give it to him gladly- but not without due warning. Giving the moth-eaten tongue of the shoe a small tug, Evan moved to his feet without even looking at his cargo, instead turning to face the other boy.<br><br>He quirked an eyebrow, as if challenging him to come any closer.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Fictionals: Black of Heart (Villain and Nom De Plume)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Villain</strong> on <strong>June 24, 2011, 08:41:12 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Alistair stopped before Evan as he turned to face him. The challenge had been issued and now he was standing face to face with a young man who was very aware that he had been following him for the last few minutes. He cocked his head to one side as he stared at the young man more closely, noting down how his brown hair almost covered his face like a hood and how his cracked lips seemed to be set in a mischevious smirk.<br>&nbsp; He inhaled slowly before calmly exhaling as he made a decision about what he would do next.<br>&nbsp; 'I've never seen a thief like you before.' He spoke and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the stranger curiouslym 'I mean you are a mystery. Usually when I look at someone I can tell no end of things based off their clothing and stains they have on their shirt. I can usually connect the dots and work out that persons life story and what their father does for a living...but not you'<br>&nbsp; He began to circle the boy, making sure not to come too close in case he mistook it as a sin of aggression and lashed out at him. He looked over him curiously as he made his way around him and stopped in front of him.<br>&nbsp; 'I can tell your a thief and a rascal. Theres no doubt there. Your physical appearance screams that you're a criminal that lives for the thrill of the crime...but everything else is a mystery. I suppose all those bruises, scars and breaks have covered up a whole amount of the evidence' He explained before scratching the bottom of his chin as he gazed at him in wonder, 'Who are you?'
			</dd>
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