bad little boy

VAMPIRE KING. associated with CITTA ALVEARE, residing in apartment N-6, wielding a wooden axe and capable of regeneration and floating. And drinking shades of red.

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What's your favorite shade of red?

The color of perfectly ripe tomatoes or strawberries......Or maybe your hair.

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what does music means to you?

...An unexpected question, one that makes Marshall Lee hesitate.His mother never sung to him, but Sarah had. Before she had been Ice Queen, when she would carry him on her back through the ruins of the world during--and after--the Mushroom War. He'd had vague memories of music, static noises crackling out of his mothers old radio, muffled instruments and voices ringing with conviction.And Sarah, who had found him the dirty old guitar with the broken strings, a way to distract him from the growing wasteland around them.So he thinks about music, and what it means to him. Sarah singing him old folk songs and lullabies, Hambo clutched in his tiny hands. The static noise from his mothers radio, the radio they listened to together the few times she bothered with him. The comforting familiarity, the sense of..."Safety," He says. "Music means safety."

[deadfaceadmin-blog]

as if he needed anymore reasons to anguish [Open/intro]

“Oh my…”

The human on the television set hadn’t been lying.  What spread before Alcor was indeed a vast city, not unlike Tokyo (at least before its destruction).  He had to commend those scientists.  Alcor technically wasn’t connected to any one world or universe, and yet they had still managed to bring him here.  

There was something else.  Polaris’s presence, which was always lingering in the deepest crevices of his mind, was…absent.  Was this place out of even the administrator’s reach? Intriguing.  He would have to investigate this place thoroughly, and what better way to do that than to get a good look at the city? He would do as he always had—observe from somewhere high in the sky, and—

“Hm…?”

Nothing was happening.  He should have been in the air by now, but here he was, putting far too much of his weight on his toes, and—

“…!”

—tumbling forward, falling face-first onto the ground.

…Now that was strange.  Were they able to strip him of his abilities too? Now that he thought about it, he could feel only a trickle of his powers; he would be able to do little more than cast a small spell.  This could prove to be rather troublesome.  

Of course, Alcor had to focus more on the situation at hand first.  He was lying face-first on the ground after all.  

How did one do this…? To a normal person, getting up after falling would be a simple feat.  But Alcor, who was unaccustomed to using his limbs (preferring to float instead, and he rarely fell anyway), had to think for a few moments before pushing himself up onto his knees.  

Any bystander would note that his movements looked rather stiff and mechanical (and what kind of airhead fell flat on his face out of nowhere anyway?), but it was a start for Alcor.  Now all he had to do was to stand up…

It would’ve been world’s easier if he had something to grab onto, but here he was, on his knees in the middle of a street, trying to figure out which parts of his body he’d have to coordinate next.

[colordrinking-blog]

Seeing the strange guy fall flat on his face in the middle of the street was rather entertaining, but the way he stared confusedly before him on his knees was just weird. Did he somehow give himself a concussion? Floating behind him, Marshall Lee yanks him upward by the collar of his shirt--red and black, hey, they kind of matched--until he was on his feet, however unsteady he seemed to be. "You should watch where you're walking," He says, "And not trip over thin air."  Huh. The strange guy is stranger than he thought. The white hair should have been a dead giveaway, but he's never seen a human with eyes that color. Then again, he's been meeting all sorts of strange humans. He hasn't seen this many in--well, centuries. He decides not to mention the dirt on the kids face--it looks hilarious.

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“Exploring,” she says. “Have to know area well. Like back of my hand.” Which portals lead where, which entities were aggressive…

As a matter of fact—

“Shopping district. That way. Try not to die. They’ll take your things.” If that didn’t count as aggression, she didn’t know what did. The residents of this area weren’t as overtly aggressive, necessarily, as your run-of-the-mill kaibutsu, but they were by all counts opportunistic which was possibly worse.

[colordrinking-blog]

"Dead? Well, I guess they could try." Her vaguely concerned warning comes off to him as somewhat sweet, however strange this girl is. "Ah, good. A shopping district. I'll find a nice shop to loot--I mean, barter with." He says, grin becoming a bit more wicked. Though, this kid is so pale and thin, he wonders if she's capable of exploring the entire city. Well, she seems like she knows what she's doing, and Marshall Lee isn't one to stop people from doing what they want, especially considering it pisses him off when people do that to him. "If you're going to explore the whole city, there are six sectors, so it'll take a while," He tells her. "So be careful for more corpse looters and such. At least now your feet won't get ruined."

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Not skipping a beat, Sabitsuki reaches out to take the shoes. 

. gained a floating musical vagabond’s Shoes .

… is what normally would have scrolled through in her mind. It didn’t this time. That was odd. Well, she supposes, not without the least bit of confusion, not everything has to be an effect. It would just make more sense if it were.

Sliding on the shoes and affirming that they still squeak when she walks is enough to moderately affirm that Everything Is Still Right With the World, though.

Since this doesn't appear to be an effect, however…

“Thank you.”

[colordrinking-blog]

The girl made something of a slight shift in expression when he handed her the shoes; almost a confused, displeased look, before it smoothed into a mild appreciation. Maybe the pink was a bit too much? S he is wearing an awful lot of white, after all, but at least the shoes aren't too horrendously bright. He'd put his foot down, metaphorically speaking, when Gumball had attempted to give him the fluorescent pink. Dark fuchsia was much better. "You're welcome," He returns, grinning a bit again. And then, "You seemed in a bit of a hurry. Are you going anywhere in particular? Oh--"

"Have you seen any music shops? I need to steal, I mean, buy a guitar."

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[ open ]

[cagedghost-deactivated20131226]

Shin hadn’t expected to see another in the distance floating around too, he could tell even from a distance, being able to do so himself. A spirit maybe? Or, perhaps not.. there was something different about the other, which made it puzzling on how he was able to hover around like Shin could. Why stress over it though, Shin didn’t want to concern himself with such things, there was no point. The agitated scientist continued to hover on his own path, crimson eyes alert. But they weren’t alert enough, he hadn’t realized that the exact hovering stranger he was just looking at was coming his way. Shin came to a halt, deep red hues set on the other. He looked irritated too, perhaps he shared the same feelings about this place.

The other was clearly right in the way of Shin now. Shin wouldn’t say a single thing, lips taped and forming a thin straight line, however his eyes didn’t move from the boy, optics descending to his feet. His hovering was strangely a lot similar to Shin’s, however there was something more to this boy than Shin. He seemed more.. alive.

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It didn't take long for Marshall to eventually register the presence of another, closer than those walking along the dirty sidewalks. He twists in the air to take in the sight of the...hovering scientist that had approached from behind.   Huh. He'd never met a human who could float before. But something seemed off about him, a bit strange, like he wasn't all there. A ghost, maybe, like from back home? But he seemed more physical, more solid than any ghost he'd ever seen. "You could have gone around, you know," He decides to say, tone casual, because the man really could have, since Marshall Lee hadn't noticed him. 

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“Yes,” she says, righting herself. And, dusting off her skirt, she notices the floating-man-creature’s line of sight and says “corpse looters” by way of casual explanation. Corpse looters. An unsightly mark in the canvas of civilized society. She is sure her floating friend can sympathize, looking as though he’d shuffled off this mortal coil, himself.

If she had to be honest with herself, though (and what other choice was there), she didn’t really miss her shoes in the sense of “protective footwear” so much as “obnoxious ambient noise”. She hadn’t heard the repetitive “poik poik poik” of her footsteps in the past thirty minutes and it was really beginning to grate on her.

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Corpse looters. Marshall eyes the girl thoughtfully, grinning a bit, teeth sharp against his lips. She doesn't look much like a corpse, but neither does he. Then again he can hear her heartbeat, so she's not dead. Maybe she played possum? He was meeting all sorts of interesting people here. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, then. At least he won't get bored. "Here," he says, tugging off his own shoes. It isn't like he needs his converse, even if they were a gift from Gumball, who had ordered him to start wearing shoes around the palace. As if he needed the damn things. He'd proceeded to write an entire ballad on the pros and cons of floating rather than walking, but Gumball had simply given him an unimpressed look. He isn't usually this nice. Maybe the loss of his axebass is hitting him harder than he thought. "I might feel guilty if I go off and leave you shoeless like that," He says. "I don't need them, but you could catch cold. Or break the skin of your soles. Whichever comes first, right?"

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She was disoriented.

That in itself wasn’t worrisome. Sabitsuki tended to be disoriented, the sprawling worlds her mind conjured making the use of a map and compass as effective as spinning in place three times and picking a direction. That wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that this place didn’t feel familiar. Even in the most abstract of landscapes she’d felt a sense of nostalgia—but she didn’t know this city and she didn’t recognize these people.

Also, she’d lost her shoes ten minutes ago. Apparently playing dead in the middle of a metropolitan area left you open to looting. She’d resorted to this after having snapped her wooden stick using it to hit a crack on the side of a very large, very solid concrete building upon arriving; a sensible course of action in her world. Not so much here.

Well, then. Time to explore. The asphalt hot against the soles of her feet, Sabitsuki spins around three times and picks a direction.

[colordrinking-blog]

Marshall Lee was paying more attention to the surroundings than to the people, which is his mistake; the blur of white that crashes into him startles him out of his contemplative thoughts about where the hell he is, and you see, this is why he hates standing around. As if to emphasize the point to himself, he grumpily hovers a few feet above the ground, squinting a little at the girl who had crashed into him. White clothes. White skin. White hair. That's a lot of white.  "Are you, uh, okay?" He asks while he hovers a bit closer--she had stumbled more than he had, and she looks pretty frail. And. Where are her shoes? 

[tyraunt]

♕ the King lost his crown, and now the wall is tumbling down. —

- “A wooden toy…”

Words that seemed to slip his lips, a strangely familiar setting unfolding around him. He knew these streets, although events of what happened were completely blocked out of his mind. He was in the same predicament before, this much Kaleb was aware of. There was one person that would surface when he thought about this place, and he wasn’t there… but this hidden knowledge proved to be good on the bigger picture, even if the demon somehow knew he would never clearly remember anything besides that.

So, he would count on his instincts to move around. Not something he was completely unused to. 

- “This is pointless.”

Sounding mildly irritated, he simply let go of that mockery of sword he was given, boots angrily snapping the material in half… even if his face showed no signs of clear irritation, his expression devoid of all traces of humanity and whatever feelings would surface - but this time his body betrayed him. 

He could feel that somehow his body did not exhibit the same powers as before. No… he could feel nothing from it. If he depended completely on magic to survive, that could pose a problem… but on a city as big as this, it is inevitable that he was bound to find a weapons dealer sooner or later. But with his knowledge of humans, he would not find exactly what he was seeking for. Not to speak of the poor materials that would be used to craft said weapons, the lack of intelligence such a disgusting race seemed to possess… 

… the king found himself roaming the Shopping District before he came to it. That’d do, he guessed. Avoiding the big stores, it did not take him long to find narrow alleyways and suspicious-looking people. One that approached him without saying much, babbling that he had a perfect deal for someone like him.

In the end, it was just a simple dagger. 

Another point not to expect much from such people. A polite request followed.

- “…Do you mind if I try it?”, which was answered by a twisted smile from the shady dealer as he put the weapon on Kaleb’s hands, the male examining it for a second. For now, that would do. Until he got his weapon back or found someone reliable… whichever came first.

“Well, this little baby will cost you quite a deal. But if you don’t have money, why don’t we change this deal instead? You know, you can get lots of money if you want to sell your organs… or your body. I am pretty sure someone would pay loads for a guy like you, and I have just the person you need to know? What do you think? A tempting offer for a weapon so good, hee hee…”

- “…”

Disgusting.

- “You have served me enough. You can die now.”

Eh???—— AAAAARRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—-

As if he was stepping on an ant, or a really unpleasant bug to get it out of his sight. Surely the scream would raise awareness - and even making other shady dealers to flee, but he did not care.

The blade was calmly cleaned of bloodstains on the person Kaleb viciously stabbed on the chest no more than ten seconds ago, keeping that uninterested countenance all along.

He could take care of the bloodstains on his own clothes later, he thought as he simply walked out of such a sickening scene as if nothing happened.

Humans were always such low, repulsive creatures after all.

One more or one less, that would not change a thing.

[colordrinking-blog]

Well, that was an interesting sight. Marshall had been stalking around looking for musical instruments--the obvious solution to his lack of guitar, of course, is to find one. The gore splattering across the shadowed pavement is more familiar than anything else in the city, at least. Marshall Lee can deal with crazies and death. It's practically in the job description. Now, the question--does he approach the clearly homicidal gentleman own the alley, or does he drift off somewhere else? Making conversation with a guy like that would be interesting, at least, and maybe he's been here a while an knows where a guy can find a damn guitar. Might as well, right? "Hey, hey, nice job," He compliments as he drifts out of the darker end of the alley, lowering himself to the ground. The feeling of his feet against the cement is a bit disorienting, but it's polite to stand while talking, right? "You cut real clean," He adds as he peers down at the corpse. Obviously this guy was used to murdering people in alleys. Then he looks back up, curious now, and wondering about the strangers skills. But, well, not his business. He really should be concerned about talking to him, yet Marshall really...isn't. He seems interesting. He likes interesting. "You see any music shops on the way down here? Any poor suckers with a guitar I can rob? Even a damn ukulele."

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[ open ]

It's a metropolis. A sight Marshall Lee hasn't been graced with since childhood--it startled him, and he feels vaguely overwhelmed and even nostalgic as he drifts through the city, feet not touching the ground.  But he doesn't get excited. Apparently he's a lab rat. What a joke. A terrible joke that irritates him to no end--he has obligations, thank you, even if he frequently puts them off. They didn't even let him keep his axebass. He's stuck with this shitty wooden axe. They could have at least given him a bloody guitar. Even a banjo or a ukulele would have been enough. This is going to be one tedious...trip.