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[Pyro]

The wind rustled viciously through the trees as green leaves struggled to hold onto the branches they bloomed from. Rain pounded harder down from the sky and worked its way between the leaves, dripping onto the underbrush below it. Dirt began to turn to mud, leaves were grew heavy as droplets of water dripped down to the edges and splashed against the floor of what once was an undisturbed utopia for plants and insects, but currently a force echoed through the woods at a mildly fast pace, at least for this person it was mildly fast.

Converse shoes stomped against the wet ground, his socks began to soak up water and squish with odd noise that his skin would later begin to grow irritated with. His jeans did the same as his socks, and as his progress through the never ending thicket grew dirt caked up across the bottom of his jeans and his white dress shirt began to grow transparent against his already pale skin. His black tie stuck against his chest and his hair fell deeply into his eyes, the black sunglasses he always wore slipped tightly into his pocket along with his wallet that held his debit card, he knew he'd be living off of that for a long time.

It was here, at this point, Owen Snafuntori broke through the forest it seemed he had been running through for almost an eternity. His breath was heavy, his heart craved rest, and his muscled burned like embers. Dirt and mud turned into pavement quickly as Owen stumbled onto the road, falling and scraping his palm and tearing a small hole in his right knee as blood slipped ever so lightly down his leg. He was in the middle of a road... In America. He had run straight across the border, he wasn't a citizen, he didn't have papers here, he was illegal in this country, though one call and he could easily have a passport. He'd have to remember that.

Owen now stay kneeling in them middle of the road, looking up towards the starry night sky and shaking his head, moving the hair from his eyes to reveal two thick black pupils with black jagged lines wrapping from them to the back of his eyes. It was his curse, the one he'd been forced to bare since birth, and he felt he had enough.

"Why..." Owen muttered to the sky, feeling the rain fall onto his face and slip away, never to touch him again. "why did you make me this way, if you're up there?"

Owen had never much believed in a God, the concept never made sense to him since he had first been told even the premise of religion. It was his beloved who believe in it. The one person in the world he found faith in, and the one person he had driven to death. He could only sit and wait for his own. The night rushed vibrantly, the rain keeping it alive like heartbeats as two lights burst into view, it was an 18 wheeler coming barreling down the road towards Owen and while he knelt there, the idea of not moving came into his head, and it refused to leave. The horn sounded as the driver clearly noticed Owen, wondering what kind of man allowed himself at three in the morning to kneel in the road, and it's then the chain reaction that set Owen's purpose in life into effect.

He stepped onto his feet and began to sprint towards the mach truck, ready to accept what was coming, ready to make the leap, and more importantly, join his beloved wife, Kira, in the afterlife she believed in so deeply. The truck let out several more honks before brakes slammed into the tires, screeching noises unleashed themselves into the air and the truck mangled and twisted itself attempting to save a human life. The back of the mac truck slid to the side now facing the front of the truck at a 90 degree angle. The body began to tilt as Owen continued his sprint, the truck ripping through the nighttime towards the man who believed he had lost everything that mattered in life.

Just then the bumper of the truck scraped the pavement, the end of the truck flipping through the air directly over Owen's head, upside down, something no vehicle going at that speed could every pray to live through. It was the rain that had made the body of the truck shine a reflective silver, and as Owen looked into the reflection, the clock ticking awkward numbers above his head read no where near zero. They ticked on, but had no intentions of dieing out so soon. Owen's body arched back as he turned and watched the truck land on it's top, spin and scratch against the wet pavement, finally coming to a stop as it wrapped itself around several very thick trees wanting vengeance for their recently fallen brothers taken by the eighteen wheeler.

Owen couldn't resist but to walk towards the crash site, watching a man use what was the last of his strength to shove himself through the broken windshield and crawl through the glass on the floor. His hand reached up, glass sticking from his skin as he reached towards Owen.

"Help... Me..."

"I can't... Only God can help you now."

"What do you mean?" He muttered through blood that spat from his lips. "You... You won't help?" The numbers above this man's head were slipping away to zero, and his name was fading deeply.

"Victor Michael Genes," Owen spoke softly through the rain. "say hello to somebody when you get to the other side."

"W-who?" He asked, rolling to his back and looking up at Owen and the rain.

"Kira Snafuntori... My wife."

[Twilight's Child]

((Verrrry short post~ Just a little intro.))


As the rain pitter pattered on the thin glassed window, a slender and pale finger pressed onto a piano key, letting out a soft, almost dying sound. Books were scattered everywhere, some pages even torn out with some written notes on them. And in this mess sat a young girl on the piano bench, her hair slightly disarrayed from getting out of bed and still wearing a pair of light purple pajamas. Her socked feet dangled from her sitting spot as she pressed another key, the dying sound just a little louder but did not sound healthy or more alive.

"....I guess....the piano needs to be tuned." the girl softly whispered, then said no more.

[Keeper]

The caws of a flock of crows echo throughout the night sky, emitting their crackled melody to hush the wanderers below. Fumes of a fiery accident rave throughout the night sky, causing the flock of crows to scatter into confusion and caution, dispersing into the darkness of night. These disruptive fumes carry out into a nearby town, presenting similar exhausts of fiery smoke. The town itself was rather belittling, though seemed to portray its own significance. Regardless, the populace that once populated the frail town had been exposed of. Their past history is shown in disarray and the people of its history in disrepair. The smoke had encased much of the elderly and youth of the town, and only for the adulthood to be seen within their horrific, mangled conditions.

Amongst the mangled bodies and streams of flowing crimson, a single form of life sat upon the town's statue. The statue in its own was of a nun, her face mantled over by an enormous cloak, and within her hands a newborn infant, reaching out innocently to her gentle face. Sadly, her face's gentility had been scarred by the thickening flow of blood, trailing down her chin and upon the infant's own face. Neither one seemed to care though, as their happiness was to be eternal, despite His attempts.

The only living soul there spits upon the statue's base, departing as an atrocious explosion erupts from behind the town, utterly ending any trace of its existence. As the explosion sounds its eruptive cry, the form cracks a smile, a bright shimmer reflecting off his curved teeth. He turns around, swaying his black sweater and white pants in the direction of the conflagrating town.

“So... magnificent. It's truly a masterpiece from those lesser calamities we had done. Though, this is such small game compared to a city's... I don't even think we've downed one of those yet. What say you, Serpentine? Does that sound as an assurance for the future?” a shrill, crackled voice questions.

The terrain remains silent as the form stood still amidst the wild conflagration.

“... Splendid! I suppose we should be off, then. I just can't stand watching this, it's utterly two-dimension in character.” the shrill, crackled voice grunts, turning around and walking off toward the road.

He rubs his black shoe against the concrete road, taking into observation of its cracked surface and bits of plant life growing in between them. The form steps onto the road and walks into the middle of it, strolling contently as the last of the town behind him releases its last, ear-shattering explosion. A raving smirk rips from the form's cheeks, as he turns in the explosion's direction. “Hahahah! What a melodramatic way to end it all! Even I find that terribly pathetic. But...” The form ceases in his steps as the illumination of a nearby city glistens over the slopes of the terrain's mountains. With a foot frontally positioned, he hunches forward, allowing his fleshy scarf to whip over his chest, the locks of black hair draping over his cheerful expression. “Fine ladies and gents, this is my only proclamation. I only wish dismay to be seen throughout all I travel. It's... only what Joseph Roderick would've asked for. But let's clarify on that note, just so it's not left an enigma. Hehehe.” The form swerves around, crossing his sleeves behind his waist, “It is Joseph CRICK! That is who wishes it the most of you all. My efforts in attaining this boy's life will not go unrewarded. Certainly not. I'll gladly start your follies if I must! Hahahaa!”

And so Joseph Crick travels toward the city, his only guidance the luring translucency of their lights to show him the way to his vile anticipations.

[Sean]

Leaves slowly danced their way through the air to the cold ground below. Johnny can recall his dad talking to him they walked to Red Sox games together. They walked down these very same streets. His dad hoped the would go into business together. That way they wouldn't have to miss each other. Then, after the fishing boat never came back, Johnny was a train wreck. Johnny now focused on opening door to get into the bar so he could prepare for that nights game against the hated Yankees. This would be a huge day for profit.

Johnny put his sweatshirt on the coat hanger and went behind the bar to see if he needed to get anything from the back. Mickey was going to the game today so he would have to run the bar himself, with the other employees. He got a few beers from the back and stocked under the bar. One, however, fell and broke. "FU*K!" Johnny screamed. He turned and punched the solid wood wall with his fist out of frustration. -CRACK- "AH!!!!!!!!!!! GOD DAMN IT!" he screamed even louder. He had without a doubt broken his hand. He would have to open later and go to the hospital. Using his good hand, he cleaned up the mess and locked up. He walked 25 blocks to the hospital telling himself how stupid he was for punching the wall all the way there.

[Skid]

"I'm sorry Viral, but you don't do your job and all we asked was for you to carry some bags. Your a nice kid but that doesn't make the business any money. You're fired."

The door slammed shut, and Viral casually took off his bellboy cap and tossed it aside, and slipped out of the vest he wore. Now out of the monkey get-up, he casually walked out and flashed a smile at the front desk lady, who gave him an odd look as he stepped out the glass doors. Viral took a glance back as he decided what to do as his next move, and noticed people were gossiping already. Viral the Has-been struck again. Did wonderful at first, nailed the interview, did his job well, then suddenly didn't lift a god-damn finger.

Viral smiled to himself as he carried his backpack by his side, stripping off the white dress shirt as he walked out in plain view and just tossed it to the side for a hobo to grab eventually. He pulled out the jacket he was fond of and threw it on over the wife beater. Thankfully he didn't have to change his pants in the middle of the street, he didn't even bother to show up in slacks today. Just came in jeans.

Viral arrived at his destination sometime later, and picked up his belongings from the apartment. It wasn't hard, all Viral had were a few ramen cups, a lighter, a canteen, a couple decks of cards, a fold out table, and a fold out chair. He gathered everything save for the table, it was time to go backpacking again and he reckoned he may need something to sit on. Though in all honest he may drop it eventually.

Viral yawned, and peered around. Where to go from here? The rent was due yesterday, and he wasn't about to give his last pay check to the apartment owner when it wouldn't even cover the cost. Viral caught site of a pillar of smoke off in the distance, away from the town. It wasn't hard to spot, there were no tall buildings to cover your sight. Viral shrugged, it was just as good a direction as any. Probably a tree caught flame, and it may be interestinsg to see what caused it.

Viral let out a heavy sigh. Not even five minutes as a hobo and he was bored to tears. Hopefully he'd meet omeone on the road who can bring the spark back to life again. One thing was for certain, Viral felt he wasn't meant for working from paycheck to paycheck or just living out an existence. He was meant for something big, he could feel it, and by god, he was gonna find it on the road.

Steeled with new resolve, Viral began to leave town and hoped to realize his destiny somewhere on it. Or at least until something more interesting arrived.

[Pirate Babe]

:movie:

[Keeper]

The mounts of the small city's skyscrapers are the first to address Joseph's presence. He reacts to their immense erection with a smirk, the luminance of their high-beam lights reflecting off his curved mandibles. Joseph ventures through the intersecting highway, waving benevolently toward arriving and departing vehicles, all ignoring his moronic facade as they drive off into their miscellaneous destinations. He thought less of their issues though, for it was as significant to him as much to the suffocation of a empathetic prostitute. Actually, even that seemed far more indulging than to watch aimless individuals swerve themselves through turns in pieces of mangled scrap metal. At least this was what he opinionated.

Joseph strolls into the crosswalk, observing the unique selection of citizens as he passes through. There, his purple and crimson iris address all forms of male and female, child, adult, elderly; black, white, hispanic, asian; good, bad, and even undecided. His smirk excels to a grin. Joseph covers his face as he begins to crack into laughter. The people surrounding the crosswalk and through gaze upon him in awe and worry, mostly just stared as he strolled deeper into the streets. Throughout his stroll, the glare of his crimson eye intensifies, the only iris to address the frightened crowds behind him as his head hunches underneath his scarf.

His long strolling finally took him to a rundown hotel, vacant in fact. The entrance had been torn through, obviously from past trespassing for shelter from the cold, nightly air. Joseph saw it fit for him to follow in the same motive, for him, too, to shelter his quivering body from the icy atmosphere. He steps inside, upon stepping onto a scampering rat. The blackish vermin hisses in anguish and dashes into the darkness. A flash of redness splashes from its direction, the last of its fearful squeaks echoing into dead silence. Joseph pouts at the violent transgression, addressing the sudden incident by walking over to the vermin's death site. A malicious, even louder hiss creeps from the corner of darkness, though, leaving Joseph to ponder as to what emitted them. He does not hesitate in the slightest as he throws his sleeved arm into the darkness. The hisses erupt into violent shrieks as he continues to pull on the figure. Joseph's pulls become more aggressive, as he sneers belligerently, wishing only to aggrieve the intolerable pest.

“I swear to you, when I have a hold of you, I am going to KILL YOU!” he growls, through the malicious shrills of his elevated voice.

The blinding intensity of his crimson iris strikes at the figure, as he withdraws it from its safe haven. A murderous delight overwhelms Joseph as he laughs in the face of his captive. “Ne-hahahahaaa! Death is all that you deserve now, pestilent swine!” He tosses the figure onto the concrete ground, brushing shredded bits of withered newspaper about the quiet complex. Joseph slides towards the scuffling figure, snatching it again by its... skirt. The crimson iris's violent luminance dwindles, shrinking to a mere glow as Joseph holds the frail figure upside-down by its dress, exposing its dirty panties. He drops the figure, already knowing what he had grabbed. “How... pitiful. A mere girl...!” he spat, sneering at the cowering child as she flips her dress back over, and runs backwardly to the hotel's stained walls.

Joseph steps forward, though, and holds out his arm, despite it being shrouded by the ebony ripples. The girl, hardly identifiable by the smeared dirt and dust on her face, reaches out slowly. Joseph lashes out and wraps his fingers around the girl's hand, pulling her into him. He smirks mirthfully as snickering eerily escapes his perked lips. “No doubt about it. You're surely aghast by my presence.” he mutters, setting her aside upon a broken stool. The girl watches him as he strolls around the room, taking into description of her gold locks and blue, yet rippled dress. He suddenly stops, causing the girl to gasp. “I think I'll call you Goldilocks. It's only rightful I do, do to your intrusion upon my 'home.'” Joseph again addresses her with his curved teeth, only for her to shrug nervously as he sits beside her, looking away from her, though, with his crimson iris transfixed upon her fright.

[Pyro]

Owen stood in the night over the wreckage as sirens and lights began to rape the night of it's pureness, it was now that Owen decided it time to get away. He turned his back on the carnage he had clearly caused, but that man's clock was about to tick into non-existence. So Owen was meant to do that... Or had it changed. This was a dilemma that Owen never could figure out. Sure some death clocks could be changed, but what of his own? How could that possibly ever be changed? His wife's had, whenever she was around Owen, Kira's clock constantly clicked down faster, skipping numbers, days, and then even days.

The first order of business would clearly be to make his way to the nearest city, this way Owen could access his funds and grab a place to stay, possibly even rent a car. Cars were wonderful. He really should have thought twice before sprinting into the woods, though he couldn't help but to figure that most people would have done the same upon walking in and seeing their wife's body. It's would always be hard for him, for the rest of his life. He could only hope that whatever actually governed the death clocks would take him... Swiftly.

His feet ached and moaned over the wetness and bitched to his brain about how much they hated him for wearing canvas shoes that didn't keep the rain out. They barely provided protection, he may have well been walking around in his bare feet.

The question was, where was the nearest City? Owen had never been adept to the geographical layout of America, he actually disliked the fact it was so large and much preferred Canada. Canada was simplistic, America had lands not connected. That made no sense.

After minutes of attempting to get his barrings, he clearly realized this would not have worked and drew his cellphone from his pocket, he never remembered it was there as the recent traumatic experience completely rerouted his life. As he pulled out his cellphone he activated the GPS system. "What? This can't be right..." He muttered to himself. Restarting the system didn't change it. "Wow... I'm stuck... In Jersey."

[Ozymandias]

The hotel room door swings open and the handle crashes into the wall making a large hole, then slowly eases shut automatically

"GOD, I LOVE RAIN" sarcasticaly yells the man who doesn't know his own name.

he throws his soaking wet back pack into his lockbox and shuts it. he then plops down onto the couch without removing any of his wet garments, throws is dripping sunglasses onto the coffee table, and picks up the remote to turn on the TV, while he picks up an English to Russian Dictionary.

Just as he hears the evening news come on, "Good evening, our top story tonight, a 18 wheeler transporting over 700lbs of Cocaine was found upside down on the side of Rt. 37 wrapped around several trees. The truckdriver was found dead at the scene. So far all invesegators are baffeled as to how the accident may have occured. in other news..."

Upon hearing this, the unamed man looks up from his book and thinks to himself "hmm... 700lbs of cocaine eh? Sounds like a pretty good pay day."

He bookmarks his dictionary. Opens up his lock box, that he hadn't locked yet and picks up his backpack, takes out three one hundred dollar bills, and puts them into his pants pocket. He opens up his Closet and grabs a raincoat and puts it on. Zips his backpack up and throws it over his shoulder as he opens the door. He takes the elevator down to the lobby and, luckily, no one gets on the whole ride down. The Elevator stops and the doors slide open, reavealing the empty lobby with one man behind the front dest.

The man makes his way over to the front desk and leans over to read the Nametag on the man behind the counter. "Lloyd," he says "Could you bring me a pen and an envelope please?" Lloyd looks up from his writing and recoils at the sight of the unamed man's face. "I was burned as a child. PEN AND ENVELOPE PLEASE." the unamed man says impatiently. Lloyd nods and turns around to grab an envelope from the drawer. He turns back around, still with an aghast look on his face, and hands it, and the pen he was just using, to the Scarred man.

The man with the burned face takes the $300 out of his pocket and places it into the envelope and writes 'suite 1907. sorry about the wall' and places the pen in his shirt pocket, seals the envelope and hands it over to Lloyd. As Lloyd reaches grasps the envelope the unamed man leans over and whipers into Lloyd's ear "Give this to your manager," he releases his grip on the envelope and says, "It's from Scar" and winks as he makes his way out the revolving front doors into the wet, dreary night.

once outside Scar whispers to himself, "God, i just love the f**king rain. TAXI!!!"

[Keeper]

The icy cascade of rain continues to pour upon the city. Little could escape its chilly touch as many homeless citizens scatter like mice in a fire from its aqueous sensation. They, though, elude the rundown hotel and the unnatural aura that radiated around its exterior, even the rain dare not touch it. What ever the reason, few would even consider exploring why it remained dry amongst the ragged heaps of deteriorated trash. A faint glimmer of yellow light was all that addressed the curious onlookers, though, only to quickly flee in fright whenever the light widened in rage. It would settle as soon as it enraged when no one was met before its path. A humble approach as the unfortunate traversers before them were never given such an act of mercy.

Joseph and the misnamed Goldilocks sat behind the crumbling roof of the rundown hotel, each indulging in opposite activities than with one another. The boy's mocking smirk had withered to a impatient scowl as he awaits the end of the rainfall. Unfortunately, upon peering at its grievous clouds and thunderclaps, it was highly unlikely. He pounds his sleeved fist into the dirt, bringing up thick sheets of dust, only his crimson iris to be seen within the dusty clouds. Goldilocks, do to allergies, emits a disruptive sneeze as the sheets brush into her nostrils. Joseph rose from the floor, snatches her by her blond locks, immediately silencing her sneezing. She and him meet eye to eye, her own complexion paled by the encroaching illumination of his left eye. The malignant eyeball shrinks within the enclosed squint of Joseph's belligerent glare. Goldilocks remains still as he turns his head sideways, his crimson iris still watching her every movement. He smirks, the glint of his bright fangs acknowledging her survival as he drops her.

“Don't talk.” he quietly growls, returning to his sitting as the rain pours in his frontal view.

Goldilocks walks over to one of the massive heaps of trash, withdrawing a plank of wood and rusty pen. Avoiding the splinters on the plank's surface, she writes down upon its rough exterior with the pen. Though, the pen's point breaks upon writing in her hasty motion, she is satisfied with the finalization.

Carefully, she tiptoes over to Joseph, transfixed upon his hunching self. Even more carefully, she pokes his shoulder for his reaction. The blinding shine of his left eye invades her sight, and only feels the choking grasp of a hand, or what seemed like one.

“What... IS IT?!!” Joseph roars, the violent shrills of his pitched vocal cores thundering into her frail ear.

The left eye finally allows her sight as she gazes upon the stifling grasp of Joseph's sleeved hand. She holds up the plank of wood as quick as the first droplet of blood squirts from her throat. Joseph loosens his grip as he snatches the plank from her quivering fingertips. He skims through the crudely-written words, and tosses it aside. The poor girl feels her neck nearly cave-in as his hand locks around her throat. Though, as blood plashes from her mouth, she is dropped to the filthy ground. Goldilocks looks up to see the morbid sight of Joseph's crackling laughter. Though, she could swear the left eye was tearing as he laughed. Afterwards, the two go back their opposite directions, acting as though nothing had happened.

The rest of the night continues with rain as the two fell asleep to midnight moon. Goldilocks had curled herself into a ball of shivers as the cold air took her through the passed hours. Her eyes open by a pinch as she peers over to the slumbering Joseph. She shakes her head faintly as she shuts her eyes. Apparently, even in his sleep, that damned left eye remained vigilant.

The rain had finally stopped as the early morning Sun shines through the shattered windows. Joseph awakes to Goldilocks sleeping beside him. His eyes squint with rage, though, he allows his malice to subside as he gets up. He shields his eyes from the Sun's ultraviolet radiance, ripping off one of the shredded ends of his sleeve to insure full coverage. The howlers and cries of the city could be heard throughout his head while he kicks the hotel's tore doors from his path. “Annoying scraps...” he grumbles, stepping over the pieces of shattered glass, removing the black cloth from his eyes. A crowd of filthy children run pass him as he attempts passage out of the mawkish section of the city. He looks over to the streetlights as a flock of birds fly pass by. A shattered bulb stood inside the ebony shell, as pieces of bloodstained feathers dangle from the glassy edges. Joseph gazes onwards to an alleyway, witnessing a stray cat nipping at a crow's carcass. He strolls over to the alleyway, and pushes the stray cat away from the body. A mess of flies had already devoured a majority of his flesh and bone, and much of its intestine had spilled onto the concrete, obviously down in by the stray's starved quenches. Joseph examines the details of its mangled body, flipping it around and about as sprinkles of blood splashes against him and the walls surrounding him. He grins maliciously as he holds the crow.

“Someone threw this one into the streetlight.”

“What if I did?” a stern voice grunts from behind.

Joseph swerves over immediately, drawing an excited expression as he met eyes with an enormous man. In his mid 40s, the man wore a brown, cotton sweatshirt, a pair of tan slacks, and black shoes. His face was covered in facial hair, wrapping around his chin and the edge of his cheeks, connecting into his sideburns, though, stopping at the tip of his bold head. The wrinkled ravels of his eyelids tighten as he glares down upon Joseph with his blue irises.

“Who the hell do you think you are, sayin' that?” the man questions, grabbing Joseph by the shoulder, easily lifting him from the ground.

Joseph snickers over the side of his opposite shoulder, gazing at the man excitably with his left eye. He tries to hold back his invading laughter as the man shakes him to reply. “M-my apologizes. It's just I find this entire situation hilarious.”

“Why is that, ya punk?” the man growls, shoving Joseph closely into his aggressive gaze.

“Because... we're filled with so much folly...” he mutters, his face shrouded by the draped locks of ebony hair.

The enormous man pulls Joseph away slightly, a little disturbed by his reply. “Just listen, don't be goin' around sayin' I threw that bird into that streetlight there. It belongs to someone, and I don't need the brat's parents comin' after me! Got it?!” he dictates, reclaiming his bravado.

Joseph merely faces him frontwards, gazing upon him with a stoic expression. He swipes himself free from the man's hand, surprising him with the sudden burst of strength. Joseph turns around and begins to walk out of the alley, only peering slightly to watch the disturbed man stare at him. Laughter ensues as he disappears over the corner. Regardless, the man turns toward the opposite opening in the alleyway, beginning his leave. Though, he suddenly feels a painful smack against the back of his bold scalp. He turns around screaming, “WHO THE HELL--” , though, stops as he senses a liquid trailing down the top of his head. The man wipes his head, withdrawing old blood and blackish feathers. He gasps, his eyes widened with disgust. Finally, he looks below him to find the dead crow laying in the middle of the alleyway. “What... the hell?” He looks around the alley, seeing if anyone had noticed, and leaves in a panic. The stray returns to its meal as the man is seen running several meters away. Beside the alleyway's opposite entrance, half of a face watches the man fleeing, a demented grin and glowing red eye present on its surface.

[Twilight's Child]

((Nother short post....man I have no inspiration.))

Kairi quietly walked about her apartment, cleaning the books and papers off the floor to the best of her ability. As she tidied up, she noticed one of her open books and picked it up. It was her alchemy book, one of her most treasured pieces of knowledge.

"All of these transmutations....failed..." she mumbled. "What am I...doing wrong...." she muttered.

You're just weak, that's the problem~


Her eyes widened. "...N-No please, not now...."

Hehehe, yes now.....my sweet sister....~

[Keeper]

An afternoon sun lifts through the depleting clouds, greeting both the poor and wealthy of the north eastern city. Onwards, the seagulls release their echoing cries as nameless citizens go about their business, predominately those at the boardwalk of Jersey beach. Hundreds of beach goers converse and frolic amidst their own personal adventures. Even the scum of modern society, they, too, enjoy themselves among the unsuspecting crowds, unaware of their past crimes or even potential ones. The children cheer and laugh, teenagers kiss and joke, adults work and relax, and the elderly enjoy what time Death gives them until their last breath. Indeed, a picturesque scene who most would prefer over the more darker aspects of the north eastern city. Called the 'Armpit of America', this city was certainly the beacon to ridicule. Accompanied by this horrible reputation, the new blight upon their hardly-maintainable society enters into the picturesque scene, to begin his desire for innumerable follies.

The creek of the boardwalk echoes through the beach goers' eardrums, as the smiling, demented boy steps foot into their benevolent domain. He raises his head through his distasteful hunch and smiles, addressing those who eyeballed his arrival. Joseph breaks from his psychopathy, and waves his hand happily, shutting his eyes in merriment. The sum falling for the facade wave back and return to their business. A small child in a pink bathing suit and inner tube scampers over to Joseph, holding a seashell to his hands. He accepts the odd gift and pats the little girl's head. She giggles happily, skipping over to her mother, waving goodbye as the two go off. Joseph waves back aimlessly until the girl disappeared from his sight. He glances over to the seashell, scowling at it at first, though, smiles and pockets it. Perhaps the boy understood that there was more to his excitement than just human folly.

“I'm hungry, Serpentine. Let's get something to eat.” he snickers, acknowledging his unseen ally.

The wind passes through him as he strolls over to a soup cart, his left eye widening as it sights a soup cart. Oddly, such confessional stands were rarely seen in the city of Jersey, though, this proved pleasurable to the one person who shared an immense affinity to broiled noodles. Joseph steps into one of the stainless steel stools, turning its rotational mount over to the cart's cook. A Viennese man greets him with an old smile, obviously an optimistic one that only those who experienced the 1970s war.

Speaking in what amount of English taught to him, he spoke, “How may I serve you? S... sir.”

Joseph frontally chuckles to his language disabilities, though, retains himself. “Yes... I like to have some soup, whatever you have of course. I'm not picky, though, I would like it dry. Considerably dry, actually. Can you do that, friend?” He addresses him with a smirk, the man seeing his own reflection within the boy's curved teeth.

He nods hesitantly, do to a slight fear of the boy's physical abnormalities. A bowl is placed in front of Joseph, the elongated pasta being poured into it next. The man attempts to pour the watery broth in last, though, Joseph restrains him from doing so. He glares at the Viennese cook contemptuously. The wooden spoon shakes in his opposite hand as he points it to Joseph's sleeved hand. He snatches it, taking the bowl of dry soup with him through the boardwalk. The Viennese man releases a sigh of relief as the unsettling boy disappears into the crowd.

The bowl holding the curled noodles of dough slide into Joseph's sharp mandibles. He chews through some, though mainly slurps down the rest in whole. His throat sends them down into his stomach, finishing his light meal. He looks at the bowl and tosses it into the sand, cracking into several pieces as it hits a lifeguard's house. The air leaves an unwelcoming taste in his mouth as it mixed with the soup's. Joseph spits out the foul tasting saliva, and retreats to the beach. He kicks his black slip-ons into the wavy stretch of sand, and lays back into its grainy sheets. The echo of the wind soothes through his black locks, having them touch the surface of his eyes. Joseph blows them back as his left eye emits its crimson glow, and even a painful shriek. “Silence... I removed them, now just shut up.” he grumbles to the sounds, having them disperse with the last gust of wind.

Joseph turns in the sheets of sand, laying down on his side as he watches a family play amongst friends and complete strangers. He sneers at the sight and turns the opposite direction, this time witnessing a teenage girl being bothered by two, rather big teenage boys. The boy's malicious smirk appears once again, his left eye emitting a violent glow. “Correct. I say we do go over and see what awaits our transgression.” He rises from the sand and strolls over to the scene.

The teenage girl was a mere underling before the social hierarchy. Your typical nerd, to put it bluntly. She appeared rather attractive though, setting aside her freckled face and curly, long locks of red hair, and of course, her braces. Her attempts at wearing a two piece bikini, in hopes to show off what blessings puberty had given her, are shown with immense failure as the two large boys mock it, even pulling at its strings. “P-please... this isn't necessary. I just wanted--” She is interrupted as one of her two tormentors pushes her into the sand.

“Save it, ya nerdy skank. Ya know, we really don't want to see your body. We get enough of a shitty look when you bend over in math class. 'Oops! I dropped my pencil!' my ass!” he laughs, kneeling over the shoulder of his giggling friend.

The dismayed girl cowers in the sand as the one young man's friend whispers hints of molestation. His dominant friend glances over at the girl with a lustful gaze, though drunken by the foul notions sludging throughout his thoughts.

“Alright. My friend and I here thought of a great idea. We'll take you clothing shopping! Ya see, if you're going to look like a skank, you might as well act like one!” he looks over to his friend, “Grab 'er and pull her under the boardwalk. I'm goin' to teach that bitch what for.”

The teenage boy's friend creeps over to the girl and grabs her by her curly locks, dragging her towards the depths of the boardwalk. She cries and screams, though she is muffled by the young man's immense hand, feeling its veins pulse the blood through his imprisoning hold. The leader follows behind as they begin to conceal underneath the boardwalk's shadows.

"Excuse me, gentlemen!" Joseph cries, his eyes gleaming through the darkness.

The two boys turn around, addressing their intruder with half-shut eyes. "The hell you are?!" one of the two yells, brandishing his height before Joseph's feeble 5'2.

Joseph merely grins as he folds his arms behind his waist. He kneels over one foot, lowering himself as he swings one arm over, and under his waist. A gentleman's bow, no less. The two teenagers hardly care for the boy's courtesy, and one grabs him by the shoulder. He leers his gruff face close to Joseph's smoothened skin. "Do yourself a favor and get the hell out of here."

"Why would I ever do such a moronic action, pray tell?" Joseph snickers in reply.

"WHY YOU LI'L SHI--!?"

Joseph breaks from his immobilization, lashing his fingers around the teenage boy's mouth. "Who do you think yourself, HM?! Ne-hahahahaaa! I'm not some run-of-the-mill runt who's your pathetic kind's punching bag! Surely... I happily decline to ever being such a terrible thing." The teenage boy gazes at Joseph with terrified eyes, feeling his oxygen being cut off by the staggering clench around his mouth. He swore he saw talons than fingernails when the boy caught him. Nevertheless, he spoke not a word as Joseph leers his malicious grin towards the other boy. "Release the girl, and come save your friend. I want that and THAT alone!" Though, the boy remains still in shock and fright. "DO IT!!" Joseph's voice booms with a otherworldly bellow, causing both the boy and girl to scream. Luckily, though, he loosens his grasps around the girl's arms, allowing her to flee from the devilish situation.

Joseph watches as he looses sight of her, then turns his attention to the cowering boy. "You want your friend back?" he grumbles, swinging his arm and his quivering captive in it. The strain on the boy's mouth began to leave wounds as droplets of blood stain the sand beneath him. His friend on the opposite end stood ready to run, though, he could not leave his friend in the hands of such a horrifying human being. Though, he was beginning to question if he even was human. "WELL?! Aren't you going to save him? Come now, do so. I want to see some effort." He breaks out in hysterical laughter as the teenage boy comes dashing towards the two, both fists balled, and his face piercing red with rage.

As the three meet eye to eye, the wind swings forth a catastrophic gust, blinding all but Joseph through the intensifying torrents of sand and debris. Finally, though, the winds dwindles, leaving the one teenage boy witness to a horrific scene. “OH GOD!!” he screams in traumatizing horror, seeing the stumbling walks of only his friend's lower half. The entire top part of his body had been dismembered, cleanly from both muscle and bone. Joseph's face shrouds in darkness as he laughs uncontrollably, his prisoner gazing in utter fear at the boy's enlarged, glowing crimson eye. The mutilated half of his friend swerves into a wooden pole before falling motionless in the sand. There, it lays in its depravity as blood sprinklers reddish stains into the sand. The aghast teenager breaks from Joseph's hold, throwing him over his shoulder and into a nearby pole. “You're a freak! You're a DAMN FREAK!”

“Am I now? Well...” Joseph pulls himself up, cracking his neck as his left eye glows amidst the shadows. “you should really call the other a freak. He works so hard to please my malice, that I neglect to give my notoriety to him at times. I suppose I shou--”

“What the hell are you talking about?! Get the hell away from me! Someone, HELP!”

Joseph's face twists into a morbid scowl as he leaps for the boy's shoulders. He plunges his fingers into his eye sockets as he gouges into them. The teenage boy screams in agony as he feels the razored tips of the boy's fingers digging into his head. Joseph laughs hellaciously, foam escaping his gapping mouth as his tongue hangs out in unquenchable bloodlust. The boy's entire face resembled that of a devil as bloody sprays from the screaming boy's eye sockets. Joseph jumps off of him, allowing the poor boy to stumble into his friend's mutilated half. He feels around and senses the horrifying discovery, causing him to sway backwards from it. Joseph's feet meet with the bleeding teenager's back, following with a massive push to his spinal cord. The disturbing crackle of his bone echoes its peccant aria through the demented boy's ears. He emits a delighted sigh as his teeth cling against the other.

“This... is... IT! This is the folly I hoped for! More! I desire MORE!” Joseph rambles on, swinging his arms forwardly in sadistic glee. “Now, Serpentine... NOW, SERPENTINE! The curtain has opened for you! Ah-hahahahahaaa!”

“Who the hell is Serpentine...?!” the teenage boy cries, confused and suffering from the immense maim placed upon him.

The entire beach grows silent as the stillness in the air swirls and shivers into distortion. A thick mist encircles above Joseph, the scarf around his neck tingling with an uncontrollable seizure, purple flashes firing from the colored orbs engraved in its organic mass. The boy peers over his shoulder, his crimson eye radiating diabolically as a shadowy figment unravels from the tattering strips of the environment itself. An enormous, yellow eyeball gleams through the strips, bearing a crooked mass of jagged fangs as it spirals around Joseph's body. The teenager nearby shivers in fear as he is encumbered by a disembodied weight. Joseph slowly points in the direction of the dying boy as a massive shape of what resembled a komodo dragon, though, squared together and covered within twisted wrinkles, appears. Silently, Joseph whispers his malicious orders to the massive reptilian's ear hole. A horrifying rumble slithers from the monster's wrinkled jaws. It releases its enlarging mandibles to an unimaginable height, presenting its crooked rows of fangs. The teenage boy's skin burns from the immolating moisture seeping from the monstrous creature's jaws. A endless void of soft, inner skin and saliva trail into the creature's gapping jaws as it launches towards the maimed teenager, bringing along the ghostly white feathers clustered above its head and elongated body. The entire boardwalk shakes tremendously as the monster locks his massive jaws around the boy. A shower of agonizing screams echoes around and around as the beast swings the boy, breaking down the durability of his fragile bones, making it easier to swallow. It wisps itself and his meal into the top of the boardwalk, smashing the dying teenager against the wooden boards.

“H-help... *gulps* Guuhhh... H-halp...!!” the boy cries, blood flooding from his body as the massive beast holds him within its enormous mandibles. “Heeeelp!!!”

His cries for help attracts the attention of the girl from before. The innocent child prances about in her adorable inner tube, waving at the frantic teenager below her. Her simple mindset could not comprehend the horrifying atrocity happening as she waved contently at the screaming boy. She only thought his vulgar screaming and mercy pleads as playful games. The cry of her mother takes her attention away, along with the boy's last interaction with a human being.

The gigantic beast tosses the mangled boy into the air and finishes him in a single, thunderous clamp of its jaws. A shower of blood splashes against the sand, avoiding Joseph as he covers himself over the mass of his hellish partner. The enormous lizard head swirls downwards to Joseph's head, emitting his loud rumbles as it camouflages back into the environment. Joseph examines the bloody mess his friend had left, taking in great delight of the mutilated half near the bloodstained pole. He steps out from under the boardwalk, observing if anyone noticed him. Claiming it safe, he settles back to his resting spot and lays into the sand, allowing the wind to cradle him. He looks up to the sky, his crimson eye squinting through the blackish void encircling the radiating iris.

“Take your rest, Serpentine. You've done more here than this city can handle. I can't simply wait until this reaches the news. The world will know of our work, and likely will those who've forgotten me will remember me once again! Neah-hahahahaah...”

[Skid]

Viral stood outside the yellow crime scene tape with the rest of the small crowd as the rain came down in a downpour. He had his hood up, shielding his face a little from the rain. However, the main attraction of the massive crash wasn't the mangled truck but the contents of its trailer, seven-hundred pounds of cocaine spilled out onto the road and into the grass and trees. Police were all over the place, bickering back and forth and trying to find clues before the rain destroyed what could have been left behind. People were concerned about how the cocaine might effect the environment, unsure of what it might do. Its not like there was a chemist on hand to tell anyone if it would be okay or not.

Viral heaved a heavy sigh as he turned his head back toward the city. He hadn't even made it five miles and he was ready to go back. Backpacking across the country had lost its appeal already. Viral stepped away from the crash site, heading back toward town again as to get out of the rain. Even if Viral left town, he'd die of pneumonia before he ever made it to the next town.

Two policeman ran by, getting back into their vehicles. "God damnit, first this crash, now theres a murderer on a rampage in town, what is happening to this place?" The police officer moaned, as he disappeared into his vehicle and took off. Viral cocked an eyebrow at this, the town was usually pretty sleepy. Why all the illegal activity now? Maybe he SHOULD stick around, it sounded like it could get interesting.

Viral ran up to the other vehicle that hadn't taken off yet, and poked his head into the window. "Mind if I hitch a ride? I'm trying to get to town and the rain caught me off guard."

The officer gave him a dirty look, and looked like he would say no, but Viral started talking again. "I always appreciated an officer of the law. My father used to get driven home by cops if he was too drunk to drive, not because he was pulled over but because it was just the right thing to do." Viral cracked a smile, leaning his head in deeper into the vehicle and dripping slightly onto the officer.

The officer gave him an annoyed look, and just motioned for him to get in the back. Viral said his thanks and climbed into the back of the vehicle, waiting for the police vehicle to take him to the scene of the crime. The radio blurted out reports. "There seems to be the remains of a body near the boardwalk, it doesn't look like anything human did it. Officers are advised to be on the look out for an animal."

"Where you heading kid?" The officer said, sounding perturbed with Viral's presence on this hectic day.

"I have a friend who has a beach house, he told me to meet him at the boardwalk."

[Ozymandias]

Unable to catch a cab, Scar was forced to walk from manhattan to jersey in the rain. He arrives at the scene just as the rain begins to soften.

He notices a young man wearing a hoodie with a flaming skull on the back getting into the back of a police car, but not in handcuffs. He makes a mental note of this young man's presence.

He nonchalantly walks under the "do not cross police line" tape and walks right up to a New Jersey state trooper and flashes him a fake FBI badge that he had his counterfiter friend make for him.

"Agent Lizaki, FBI. I understand there was an accident here with a truck filled with Cocaine." He says confidently

"Uhh, yes sir. We arrived on the scene to find the truck, as you can see, upside down, and the driver was DOA." the trooper replied.

"Anything else you can tell me?" Scar inquires while surveying the scene.

"No, sir. The heavy rain and darkness have made it quite difficult to find any evidence." answers the trooper.

"Ok well I'm just going to take a look around while I wait for my backup to get here. I'll inform them of what you've told me when the arrive." Says 'Agent Lizaki'

The trooper nods and goes to find his superior to alert him of the FBI's arrival.

Scar meanders over to the rolled semi to investigate. He notices only one set of tire marks, the ones made by the truck. He deduces from the skidmarks where the point of origin was for this crash. He realizes that due to the lack of debris between the tire marks and the crash that the truck didnt just roll, it flipped end over end! The driver must have jerked the wheel, knowing that he would crash, but why? im sure he could have avoided a deer, or have even simply run them over without slowing. He searches for clues between the tire marks and the flipped semi. He comes across a small piece of ripped denim with some skin and blood embedded in it. Somone was here, but they were on foot. Why were they in the middle of a road with an oncoming semi? and how did the scrape thier knee? Well as intruiged as he was, Scar knew that this wasn't a planned attack, so he wouldn't be able to extort any mobb bosses with the information that some random pedestrian caused the accident that cost millions of dollars to some druglord. Besides he had to beat it before the realized he wasn't really FBI, so he began to walk back down the road the same way he came. At least the rain finally stopped and the sun came out.

He stopped and asked a different trooper than he had spoken to before, "hey, who was that kid that got a ride with a cop a minute ago?"

the trooper just shrugged.

"Well I'd like to talk to him, could you radio the trooper that gave him a lift and find out where he is headed for me?"

[Keeper]

“We're all such idiots...”

A can clanks against Goldilocks' ankle, directing her eyes toward the malignant boy standing in the anew showers of rainfall. Joseph raises his empty gaze towards her strained expression, though, greets it with no grin. Something was obviously wrong, yet it was a godly act to ever make such a maddened soul speak truth through a mindset suited to the Mad Hatter himself.

Joseph confines himself to a ledge of welded scrap metal, possibly created by an artist's failed attempt to create. Regardless of its origin, it now served as this demented boy's throne of solitude. He slips his sleeved hand into his pocket and withdraws the seashell given to him by the girl. His left eye glares at the jagged structures clustered about the top of its oval shape, taking into observation of its mangled inside. It would seem this seashell was obtained through pulling it from the very back of a invertebrate. Joseph clinches the shell, allowing the jagged points to dig into his flesh. Blood flows down the shredded tips of his black sweater as Goldilocks attempts to approach him. Joseph peers over his shoulder, his crimson radiance directing its ray into the girl's forehead. He holds up the seashell, nudging his head for her to take it. She approaches the offer cautiously, taking gapped footsteps towards the shadowy boy as he hunches with the shell in hand.

Her trembling hand wraps its fingers around the shell, sensing the warmth left by the long hours in Joseph's pocket. She feels the warmth trail to her face as her cheeks blush upon peeling the shell from the boy's concealed fingertips. He merely looks off as Goldilocks eyeballs her gift, or so what she perceived it as.

She hears the light murmur of laughter from Joseph as her footsteps echo away from him. As pleasant as the gift was, Goldilocks just could not understand why he threw himself into this state of contemplation. Whatever could have caused this strange behavior in the psychopathic teenager? It was that very aspect about him that she even remained in this rundown hotel. She questions the true ethics behind the boy's wickedness. Though, just as she addresses the thought, Joseph lifts from his paralyzed state, walking off into the rain.

Goldilocks' lips tremble vigorously with anxiety as his figure slowly shrouds into the rainfall. Her desires to converse with this oddity of a human being finally breaks her.

“W-where are you going?!”

A enormous, yellow eyeball erupts from the air, wisping its tyrannical gaze over the quivering child. Joseph faces away as the eyeball twitches before her timid self, looming repulsively amidst the slithering rain. She feels her limbs lift from the ground as a grievous pain overwhelms her entire body. Goldilocks' face freezes in anguish as her arms and legs squirt blood violently from them.

“Enough...” Joseph mutters, his face soaked by his soggy locks of ebony hair.

The squirts of blood become more vigorous and quickened, followed by the sounds of bones being twisted.

“Enough, Serpentine...” he repeats, still facing the hotel's whithered walls.

Goldilocks' screams swallow the splashes of the rain's melody, striking forth her horrific dirge as her left humerus and right femur snap from the merciless onslaught.

“ENOUGH, SERPENTINE!” Joseph erupts, his left eye unifying its crimson translucency with the shimmering radiance of an incoming lightning bolt.

A melancholic rumble shakes throughout the terrain as the yellow eyeball fades into nothingness. Joseph runs over to Goldilocks' limp body, checking it for any mortal injuries. “Hmph... Fortunate dolt.” he mumbles, picking her into his sleeves and strolling into the aged building. Goldilocks touches Joseph's left cheek as he covers her with a wide drape of curtain. He stands from her warm hand, and stares into her severe wounds. “You shouldn't have talked. I directly told you not to, though, you did either way. Had I not said 'enough' you would've been dead.”

Goldilocks turns her head aside in the tattered pile of newspapers. She presents Joseph with a smile. “I'm glad I met you.”

Joseph's eyes widen with shock, his fanged mandibles clenching with vexation. He swerves to his knees, grabbing the ground beneath his shrouded hands. Viciously, he tears at the weeds protruding through the concrete's cracks. He jumps to his feet and kicks the wall beside him, staining the brick with the blood of his devilish work.

“Graaaggh! Such grievance! I can't take it!” he roars, grabbing his head in frustration. His malicious gaze swerves to the smiling child beneath him, setting his contempt ablaze. Ironically, he subsides his malignancy and dashes into the streets, flailing those before his aimless path into the aqueous puddles chasing him. He stops as he glances towards Goldilocks, who laid at a staggering ten meters away. Joseph's face twists into a inhuman scowl as his eyes gaze into the girl's cemented smile. The innocence scars into his mind, manifesting its implications. Its dreaded innuendos curses Joseph's existence, though, only that to his tampered perception.

He flees further away towards a green house, locking himself within its asylum of carnival mirrors and grinning vegetation. Joseph locks himself to the tiled floor, scrunching his reflective fangs back and forth, contemplating this abominable question plaguing his malignancy. “Why... Why am I even there? Why haven't I simply ended her life? What am I doing here, anyway? What am I doing here...”