Post by beccabear on Nov 29, 2008 0:40:14 GMT -5
Uh yeah... This is chapter one of my character Desmond's story.
The setting was stolen from an older story I wrote, because I decided it fit him better. >w<
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Chapter one: Party
It was just past midnight. Multicolored lights filtered through the windows of an abandoned warehouse, occasionally flashing and swirling to the pulsing rhythm of the music it accompanied. Within the aged building, a gentleman leaned against the wall, watching the partygoers as they danced and interacted with each other.
The man appeared to be in his early twenties: tall and young and handsome, with the fair skin and silky hair that could woo nearly any female in sight. He was dressed rather oddly, in a white collared shirt and charcoal tie that was impaled with a single safety pin. Below, he wore a pair of dark slacks. Above that, a dark gray coat with cut sleeves that exposed his lower arms. He looked like some sort of macabre, punkish businessman. Many of the teenagers in the crowd cast occasional glances at him, either out of curiosity or awe.
The man smiled, but it wasn’t a smile. It was a grating, arrogant smirk: the kind of expression that said, “I know something you don’t.”
And so he did.
He shifted his weight, and finally took his gaze off the throng of teens. This time, his stare was aimed at an individual who was now entering the warehouse. This person seemed innocent and cheerful, chatting excitedly to a small girl next to her.
Desmond stepped forward, slipping through the congested crowd as easily as water through outstretched fingers.
“Good evening, ladies!” he greeted smoothly, as if he had been friends with them for a long time.
The girl who had once been speaking froze and looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowing beneath her caramel-brown bangs. “Can I help you?” she snapped. The younger blonde arched an eyebrow as she watched them.
“Actually, yes. I have a bit of a problem, you see. A friend of mine passed through here. Her name’s Selina. Long blonde hair in pigtails, pretty amber eyes. Have you seen her?” he inquired.
The moody brunette cast a brief glance at the girl who she was talking to.
The innocent blonde blinked slowly.
“Sir? Do I know you?” she began softly.
Desmond smirked again, his golden eyes gleaming slyly. “Oh, my apologies. There you are, Selina. I haven’t introduced myself to you properly. The name’s Desmond. I’ve been sent to find you.”
Selina looked shaken. “I-I’m sorry, Desmond, sir, but I’ve never met you,” she stammered. “Who sent you?”
Desmond’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, you haven’t?” His voice lowered. “Are you positive about that?”
Selina’s tawny eyes narrowed, and she glanced at her brunette friend who had fallen silent during the awkward introduction.
The tall man leaned forward and lowered his collar, exposing a vicious, ragged scar just above his collarbone. “I believe you’re the little girl who tried to tear my throat out just the other day.”
With a stunned cry, the brunette stumbled back. “What the hell? Selina, this guy’s joking, right?”
Selina’s expression darkened chillingly.
The warehouse began to quiet down, as if the unease was spreading through the crowds. Even the music’s volume seemed to have lowered itself.
“I’ll take that as your confession,” Desmond declared, rising to full height.
Selina began to laugh coldly. “You weren’t supposed to live, you know. That defeats the whole purpose.”
Desmond laughed sarcastically. “Oh, right. I’ll make sure not to survive next time. My apologies. Would you like to try again?”
The brunette had pressed herself against the wall, eyes wide, a hand pressed to her chest. She eased herself away from the two, as if she expected one of them to lash out and rip her heart out just for being nearby. Around the small building, faces were turned their way, yet no one made any move to intervene.
The blonde girl’s lips curled in a menacing snarl and she took a threatening step towards him. In a blindingly quick move, she launched herself at Desmond, knocking him off balance. They both hit the ground, her hands clamped powerfully around his neck. “I’m not letting you live another day. No one gets in my way without paying for it. In your case, the payment is your life!” She lifted her head and aimed a murderous glare at the crowds surrounding them. “Whoever moves next will wind up just like this guy, got it?”
Screams, protests, and gasps rippled through the building, yet people remained still, out of fear that they would be the next one attacked.
Much to his assailant’s bewilderment, Desmond began to chuckle. “What the hell are you trying to do?” he scoffed. “I’m already dead, you dolt. Just let go of me and save yourself the embarrassment.”
Selina froze, and then tensed again, tightening her grip around his throat without any effect. “What are you? Why aren’t you struggling for breath?!” she demanded.
Desmond sat up, shoving her off his chest effortlessly. She scrambled to her feet, glaring defiantly as her foe rose.
“You’re one spunky little individual, aren’t you?” he challenged, smirking haughtily. “Let me show you something interesting.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a small glass pendulum. He dangled it by the string, examining it before turning back to his opponent. “Pretty, isn’t it?”
“Are you toying with me?” growled Selina.
“Not at all,” he responded, still smiling. He blew lightly on the pendulum, and it shattered. The crystal shards chimed melodically as they hovered, light as bubbles, through the space between them. They shimmered in the multicolored lights, sharp as pins, yet as graceful as a dancer. Selina gaped, taken aback.
Then, as if on some unheard signal, the slivers of glass froze, righted themselves, and rocketed at the young woman. She only had time to raise an arm to shield her face before they struck her.
There was no pain, not even any blood. Selina examined her arm to find tiny crystal shards embedded in the skin, in a perfect line.
“Does it hurt much? This is a warning. Heed it, unless you want it to hurt, of course,” he advised.
Selina’s left arm began to throb, an indication that Desmond was serious about the consequence.
Desmond emerged from the warehouse, taking the renewed pendulum and everyone’s memories with him. What he left, however, was his message… And anyone who had been looking closely could see the scar on his collarbone begin to fade.
The setting was stolen from an older story I wrote, because I decided it fit him better. >w<
-----
Chapter one: Party
It was just past midnight. Multicolored lights filtered through the windows of an abandoned warehouse, occasionally flashing and swirling to the pulsing rhythm of the music it accompanied. Within the aged building, a gentleman leaned against the wall, watching the partygoers as they danced and interacted with each other.
The man appeared to be in his early twenties: tall and young and handsome, with the fair skin and silky hair that could woo nearly any female in sight. He was dressed rather oddly, in a white collared shirt and charcoal tie that was impaled with a single safety pin. Below, he wore a pair of dark slacks. Above that, a dark gray coat with cut sleeves that exposed his lower arms. He looked like some sort of macabre, punkish businessman. Many of the teenagers in the crowd cast occasional glances at him, either out of curiosity or awe.
The man smiled, but it wasn’t a smile. It was a grating, arrogant smirk: the kind of expression that said, “I know something you don’t.”
And so he did.
He shifted his weight, and finally took his gaze off the throng of teens. This time, his stare was aimed at an individual who was now entering the warehouse. This person seemed innocent and cheerful, chatting excitedly to a small girl next to her.
Desmond stepped forward, slipping through the congested crowd as easily as water through outstretched fingers.
“Good evening, ladies!” he greeted smoothly, as if he had been friends with them for a long time.
The girl who had once been speaking froze and looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowing beneath her caramel-brown bangs. “Can I help you?” she snapped. The younger blonde arched an eyebrow as she watched them.
“Actually, yes. I have a bit of a problem, you see. A friend of mine passed through here. Her name’s Selina. Long blonde hair in pigtails, pretty amber eyes. Have you seen her?” he inquired.
The moody brunette cast a brief glance at the girl who she was talking to.
The innocent blonde blinked slowly.
“Sir? Do I know you?” she began softly.
Desmond smirked again, his golden eyes gleaming slyly. “Oh, my apologies. There you are, Selina. I haven’t introduced myself to you properly. The name’s Desmond. I’ve been sent to find you.”
Selina looked shaken. “I-I’m sorry, Desmond, sir, but I’ve never met you,” she stammered. “Who sent you?”
Desmond’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, you haven’t?” His voice lowered. “Are you positive about that?”
Selina’s tawny eyes narrowed, and she glanced at her brunette friend who had fallen silent during the awkward introduction.
The tall man leaned forward and lowered his collar, exposing a vicious, ragged scar just above his collarbone. “I believe you’re the little girl who tried to tear my throat out just the other day.”
With a stunned cry, the brunette stumbled back. “What the hell? Selina, this guy’s joking, right?”
Selina’s expression darkened chillingly.
The warehouse began to quiet down, as if the unease was spreading through the crowds. Even the music’s volume seemed to have lowered itself.
“I’ll take that as your confession,” Desmond declared, rising to full height.
Selina began to laugh coldly. “You weren’t supposed to live, you know. That defeats the whole purpose.”
Desmond laughed sarcastically. “Oh, right. I’ll make sure not to survive next time. My apologies. Would you like to try again?”
The brunette had pressed herself against the wall, eyes wide, a hand pressed to her chest. She eased herself away from the two, as if she expected one of them to lash out and rip her heart out just for being nearby. Around the small building, faces were turned their way, yet no one made any move to intervene.
The blonde girl’s lips curled in a menacing snarl and she took a threatening step towards him. In a blindingly quick move, she launched herself at Desmond, knocking him off balance. They both hit the ground, her hands clamped powerfully around his neck. “I’m not letting you live another day. No one gets in my way without paying for it. In your case, the payment is your life!” She lifted her head and aimed a murderous glare at the crowds surrounding them. “Whoever moves next will wind up just like this guy, got it?”
Screams, protests, and gasps rippled through the building, yet people remained still, out of fear that they would be the next one attacked.
Much to his assailant’s bewilderment, Desmond began to chuckle. “What the hell are you trying to do?” he scoffed. “I’m already dead, you dolt. Just let go of me and save yourself the embarrassment.”
Selina froze, and then tensed again, tightening her grip around his throat without any effect. “What are you? Why aren’t you struggling for breath?!” she demanded.
Desmond sat up, shoving her off his chest effortlessly. She scrambled to her feet, glaring defiantly as her foe rose.
“You’re one spunky little individual, aren’t you?” he challenged, smirking haughtily. “Let me show you something interesting.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a small glass pendulum. He dangled it by the string, examining it before turning back to his opponent. “Pretty, isn’t it?”
“Are you toying with me?” growled Selina.
“Not at all,” he responded, still smiling. He blew lightly on the pendulum, and it shattered. The crystal shards chimed melodically as they hovered, light as bubbles, through the space between them. They shimmered in the multicolored lights, sharp as pins, yet as graceful as a dancer. Selina gaped, taken aback.
Then, as if on some unheard signal, the slivers of glass froze, righted themselves, and rocketed at the young woman. She only had time to raise an arm to shield her face before they struck her.
There was no pain, not even any blood. Selina examined her arm to find tiny crystal shards embedded in the skin, in a perfect line.
“Does it hurt much? This is a warning. Heed it, unless you want it to hurt, of course,” he advised.
Selina’s left arm began to throb, an indication that Desmond was serious about the consequence.
Desmond emerged from the warehouse, taking the renewed pendulum and everyone’s memories with him. What he left, however, was his message… And anyone who had been looking closely could see the scar on his collarbone begin to fade.