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Violet
She sips a bit more from her goblet, ''You got her spot on.'' |
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~Matthias~
In exactly two milliseconds a gun is leveled at her head. And I snark my best HAL impression
"I'm afraid I can't let you do that." |
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Dorian lets out a mild profanity and stands, "Scarlett, imagine me but more lethal. It'll be a miracle if someone isn't in the mortuary or hospital in half an hour."
Scarlett laughs as her body ripples, fingers lengthening a touch with the wave. Her jaw lengthens and multi-faceted plates spreading up from the jaw and over the top of her head, angled to deflect projectiles away. "Try me sugar, I've run through tests where I've survived stronger single shots." |
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Violet
Her face turns blank, she gives a wave, and walks out of the tent. She starts walking towards Cirque, whose on the edge of the forest from where he met Benedict. She moves like a robot, as if she lost all emotion. |
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~Matthias~
"...You rated for point blank depleted Uranium armor piercing rounds from a .44 magnum? Why aren't you special. I'll give you a nice new paint job on your face." |
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Scarlett just smiles behind her new mask, "I can just shed and grow a new one, but can you hurt a girl? One who knows you, knows what you did, wants to congratulate you as much as condemn you?" |
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Violet
She walks to Cirque, explaining what is happening. She then leaves, swirling her goblet of blood and occasionally sipping from it when needed. She walks down the path, looking ahead of her. Her face has no expression, and her movements are emotionless. |
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~Matthias~
I back silently away, carefully placing my feet where leaves or branches lay, and holding my breath. I can't win. Perhaps I'll have to make like Francis Marion... |
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In London’s new Shard building there sits a cluster of spacious offices the size of two master bedrooms near the top of the building. One of these is panelled with dark mahogany and half of the walls inlaid with bookshelves, cases holding antiques and the occasional touchscreen monitor. An expansive desk dominates the room, stood before a wall of glass that looks down on central London and beyond. Sat in the luxurious leather seat at the desk is a young man in an ashen-coloured shirt and embroidered black silk waistcoat with dark hair cut formally short and parted on the one side. He is silently scrolling with a mouse whilst focussing on what is displayed on the monitor built into the desk.
The phone rings, a slim glass and metal device placed on the desk within reach.
“No, this is Mr.Schwarz speaking. Mr.Hunt is dead, I have assumed his office. Yes, by all means check the records; you are paid in part to ensure secrecy. Thank you, and your reason for calling Mr.Hunt? I see. I shall draft a plan of response, thank you for bringing this to my attention.”
-----
Miles away a Hearse drives through the city, driven by a man in a similar suit but in shades of red with a cravat and open collar jacket. His ginger hair has a distinct wave, falling to the level of his chin which itself is covered in a goatee that curls underneath his chin. In the passenger seat is also a smartly dressed man, although younger looking and swapping a jacket and waistcoat for a vibrant shirt of green stripes and a verdant tie; his short blonde hair ruffling through the slight breeze coming through the window open by just a crack.
The man in green picks up a phone from underneath the dashboard, smiling at the sight of a withheld number.
“Hey, Red, something important.”
“Hello, oh, Schwarz! Good to hear from you! Yeah, we’re near there, ten minutes’ drive. Project Spartoi? Attacking the runaway? We’ll get there but how do we deal with…right. Anyone tell you how clever you are Schwarz? Yeah, ok, grumpy sod, I’ll catch you later.”
Minutes later the Hearse has left the city streets and is crossing a nearby bridge, stopping before a maze of tents.
“Look after Loverboy in the back and keep an eye on the phone, I’ll deal with this.”
The man in red gets out, weaving through the mix of tents and people heading deep into the encampment.
-----
Scarlett laughs and turns into Violet's tent, "Hey, Benedict was right, sometimes lying through your teeth works. Now...Dorian...come out you sweet little thing...before I have to get rid of the waste of biomass lying in the beds and floating in jars." |
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[NO NO NO. DUN TOUCH HER ORGANS. D;
Those are her pride and joy, and she took years to get those organs. D::
You can kill the patients though. That's fine. <3] |
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(... I honestly cannot think of how to fit in Paris, Umu, Jen, or Azoth. :/ ) |
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[Have one of them go talk with Violet. She's not in the Cirque, she's outside of it.] |
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Paris leans against a nearby tree, staring in the direction of the girl Violet. "So... What do you do around here?" |
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Violet
She turns to him, her face expressionless, ''I'm simply a doctor for the Cirque.'' She states, sipping from her goblet again. |
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Paris chuckles. "By any chance does that include psychology?" |
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Violet
''If it did, I would be quite a hypocrite.'' |
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"Look, I'm going to give you the truth," Paris responds. "I have suddenly felt lonely, and I do not know why. I am going to keep this conversation in continuation as long as possible. With that settled, how have things been like for you in the Cirque?" |
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Violet
''They have been fine. Rough for the most part with the young man named Dorian.'' She says, ''I had to deal with a man named Benedict.'' |
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Paris shrugs. "I probably missed something important; I was exploring the woods. Huh, I haven't done something like that since my youth. So, who are the two? Dorian, actually, I think I know. Benedict, then? Eggs? Arnold?" |
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Violet
''Benedict is a man trying to claim Dorian as his step-son.'' She says with a sigh, leaning against another tree, ''He definitely acts like an egg though. Extremely snobby and stuck-up.'' |
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"Sounds like I could crack his head if he comes back," Paris boasts with a grin. |
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Violet
She sighs again, ''Then I would have to fix it.'' |
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"Well," he says with a clap of his hands, "I shall try my best to abstain from injuring those individuals about the Cirque." |
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Violet
She chuckles, nodding her head lightly, ''Thank you.'' |
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Paris looks into distance. "Ever been to Greece? Lovely this time of year. Russia is horrid no matter what, but it shouldn't be too bad about now." |
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