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Post by Envy on Sept 16, 2007 12:24:57 GMT -5
Sitting upon the frigid iron that once held a window, a boy rubbed his thumb against a glass shard. He had removed the boards from this window in particular for the special occasion that today was, initiation of a new member. The sharp object that left a trickling crimson substance down his arm, however, was merely the last piece of what was once the window, and had nothing to do with the day.
His golden eyes cut to the sky, which was reasonably azure for there to be a chance of rain in the area. Even a delicate breeze cascaded through the ebony hair, mingling it with the lone blond streak that remained an lonely outcast in the sea of obsidian. His hand set down the forlorn, clear piece as he attempted to see past the field of emerald blades.
Legs dangling from the window, just touching the ground where the grass was actually somewhat tame, his clothes ranging casual jeans of a turquoise hue and a T-shirt of ivory. Charcoal hued leather slid onto his hands as he tugged them, concealing the wound he had carelessly made on himself.
"Storm," he uttered, gently but audibly. "We'll see how well the nickname fits."
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Post by nikki on Sept 16, 2007 16:13:26 GMT -5
The sphere in the sky was a warm ball of energy that day, radiant beams emanating from it. Zemestan shielded his weak, slightly bloodshot orbs from the sun with a pale hand and glanced around. His left eyelid twitched, a nervous reaction. He couldn't believe that this was reality. Had he really joined the Hybrids of the Infinite? Was he really, for the first time in his life, rebelling? Was he really going to become a... gang member?
All his experience came from things that weren't real. Entertaining amusements in the form of video games. Was he truly ready for this?
Then he thought of his sister, of his mom and dad, and a fresh wave of fury washed over him.
Of course he was.
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Post by Envy on Sept 16, 2007 17:18:16 GMT -5
Lifting his head, the aquamarine about the gold in his eyes glowing bright from the lighting, he set one foot up on the edge of the window frame. A dark, ebony steel toe covered it, and he pushed himself up as the second one joined its partner on the pane. Now it was possible to see past the wild grasses, which were never one length and were rarely short.
Snapping his thumb and forefinger against the material separating them, a bolt shot down his fingers and forced a path through the thick jungle of verdant. "Welcome to life," Duivel murmured to himself as he leaped to the path he had created of bowed plant life. "A more deadly form of game."
His strides were even, calm, with each of them his purpose for them more explicit. How would this boy deal in the real world of violence?
How indeed.
The spark finally deteriorated into the atmosphere as it reached the end of its job. It was clear to see the forest now, as well as the other side. Only a short amount of time left, and the clock was ticking.
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Post by nikki on Sept 16, 2007 17:22:54 GMT -5
Zemestan lengthened his stride and quickened his pace. Within minutes he was panting, and the warm sunlight now felt like a steaming oven. Why had he chosen to wear black jeans again? Why the colour that attracted heat? Not today. His palms were sweating and his lips were cracked and parched.
Zem's eyelid twitched again. He could see movement in the distance and sped up to a jog, but stopped after a moment because that only rapidly increased his body temperature. Instead, he settled on waving at the figure, a bit self-consciously because he wasn't really sure how to act.
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Post by Envy on Sept 16, 2007 20:27:32 GMT -5
The movement attracted his attention, and he turned toward it. I suppose this is he, was the inaudible thought as he trotted over to the figure. The blaring of the flames in the azure dome glared down, pouring particularly into the obsidian gloves he wore. Still, he lifted a hand and returned the gesture to who he was supposing to be the newest member.
"I bid you hello," he said, as he came into a near level of earshot. "I am assuming you are Zemestan." As he studied him, he touched a canteen that he always carried at his hip. He had a number of them, all with the image of a dragon's wing, an angel's wing, and a coiled serpent settled between the two of those pictures. Scrawled above that was "Hybrids of the Infinite" in crimson letters.
Without waiting for the response, he unclipped the canteen, the water within sloshing against the sides as he held out to the boy in offering. If it weren't so difficult to get there by night, he would ask that new members come that way. However, it was off the main road, and sometimes even he forgot the trail to it was there when he headed back in the shadowed hours.
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Post by nikki on Sept 16, 2007 23:21:12 GMT -5
Zem cleared his throat. "Yes, that's me," he said, and winced involuntarily, wishing his voice would hurry up and deepen already. He was at the age where it wasn't high, but it wasn't low either; it alternated and sounded squeaky most of the time. It wasn't the best intonation to make a good first impression, especially with the Hybrids of the Infinite - a gang. He had hoped to come off as a tough guy today, but that standard was evidently almost as overly high as his voice two years ago.
"Thanks." Zemestan accepted the canteen and took a swig of it, feeling the cool, refreshing water lubricate his mouth and slide easily down his throat like a wet snake. It felt good to be rehydrated on such a sweaty, steamy day.
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Post by Envy on Sept 17, 2007 12:30:50 GMT -5
Duivel refused more than a smirk to appear on his lips, his arms gesturing for Zem to follow him back. It surprised him more a boy so young would attempt to join a gang, rather than how the voice of Zem sounded. That would change, just like the fact he panted after coming this far. A necessity for the gang was fitness, as well as submission.
"I do hope you know what has been burned into your life now, Zemestan. It's a harsh world, and it stops for none," recited Duivel, remembering the words clearly from over the years. "Surprises pop up everywhere."
He looked at the tattoo of a black snake coiled securely around his right forearm, the tongue lolling from the mouth of the serpent. Then, with an abrupt fluttering sound, a pair of membraned wings sprouted from the shoulder blades and scalp of Duivel. They greatly resembled those of a dragon's, and across the back of each of the four wings cut a honey hued streak. In a bored fashion, he watched his skin grow pale and felt the pule around his golden orbs burn cerise. One must know the leader's forms, must one not?
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Post by nikki on Sept 17, 2007 21:29:05 GMT -5
Zemestan's eyebrows almost disappeared inside his messy, slightly greasy mop of ebony hair. Surprises indeed, he thought. He had not been expecting that - but then again, they were the Hybrids of the Infinite, weren't they? Zemestan knew that this wouldn't be the first shock in joining the gang. There were bound to be many others, lurking just around the corner.
"You're right about that," he commented. "And I've already met my first surprise." Perhaps his words were... there is no nice way to put it... somewhat lame, but Zem had always been like that. He had limited social experience and nobody to really practice on. Usually, his thoughts rolled off his tongue before he could stop them.
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Post by Envy on Sept 18, 2007 18:30:49 GMT -5
Duivel grinned over his shoulder at him. "Never seen an Incubus before, I take it," he analyzed, continuing to pace onward toward the structure of steel. "Pitiful life, most of them live." At this he became quiet, as he wished not the reveal what his father was, what his curse was. He was a creature from the darkest fairy tales, and that helped him none.
If anything, the fact made it harder on him. His wings brushed against blades of grass, making them itch with irritation, but he ignored it. A tiny itch was nothing in the plague of war and life. Fight to survive, only in the end, the fate remains the same: to die.
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Post by nikki on Sept 18, 2007 23:06:21 GMT -5
"Pitiful... how?" Zemestan queried, jogging a bit to catch up with his new leader (the word was so unfamiliar to him) and instantly regretting it; it only forced his body temperature up even higher, contributing to the lightheadedness that had started about an hour ago. "And no, I haven't seen one before, or even heard of them."
It was strange, really, considering how many video games and such he was interested in, that Zemestan had never come across the idea of an incubus before. Then again, he liked games that had lots of gunfire and war, not fantasy ones. He always considered those "jokes for wimps" - but looking back, he was the real wimp there, constantly hiding behind a shield that protected him from reality.
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Post by Envy on Sept 19, 2007 17:05:16 GMT -5
Glancing at him, Duivel produced a crooked smirk. "They invade the dreams of young girls and impregnate them. Or most of them. Some have more of a life." His statement complete, he turned his gaze back to the warehouse, the place that had, in a sense, become home. Sometimes he liked to lay out on a hammock that was suspended from some towering trees, but only if he was restless in the room he preferred.
"Cursed blood," he commented on his heritage. To be of the wretched creatures of torment and despair, it sickened him. It only farther agitated him to think his mother had fallen for an Incubus.
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Post by nikki on Sept 26, 2007 0:18:27 GMT -5
Zemestan's small eyes widened at Duivel's declaration, and he suppressed a slight blush. He was, in retrospect, but a boy, and a young one at that. A boy who had been sheltered from "the real world", as some called it - the opposite of his sister, who liked to think she was so significantly into it. Or perhaps that was just Zem's view of her.
"That's only some of them, though, like you said," Zemestan responded after a moment, kicking at a loose stone by his left foot.
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Post by Envy on Sept 26, 2007 17:34:10 GMT -5
"It's what the Succubus do, too, only to guys," he went on to say, then composed himself and stopped his foolish hauntings. "But yeah, only some of them. Any of them who don't view it as a curse, anyway. You probably noticed I'm not of the complete Incubus blood, and if not, then just know I'm not acting on this half of me, either."
The wings spread in a stretch, lifting heaven-ward then settling back on his shoulder blades and skull. He rarely liked this form, nor would he usually show it unless it be to a new member who needed to know surprises come. Hybrids of the Infinite stood for the crosses between breeds, and even hybrids in themselves. Just like he was. A hybrid of the Infinite.
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Post by nikki on Sept 27, 2007 15:36:08 GMT -5
"Do you know any other like yourself?" he asked, fighting to keep his voice steady. Zemestan had always known he was weak; he looked young for his age, he acted young for his age - to anyone else, it didn't make sense, but it was true that he was young for his age. He ought to have been born into a different time, a later time, when maybe the world wouldn't be so perilous. Maybe there'd be more security and protection. Maybe.
He only said "like yourself" because he didn't really want to speak the word. Zemestan was impressioned upon easily and almost felt as if he said any "dirty" words, his mother would be there, shaking a stern finger at him and shouting. Of course, at that point he could just throw one of his ear-splitting tantrums and -
No. He mustn't think like that. This was his new life... a fresh beginning... a chance to start over again.
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Post by Envy on Sept 27, 2007 18:24:49 GMT -5
"Once. One was a Succubus, another an Incubus, and one a cross between an incubus and Vampire. However, all of them tend to attempt their jobs in the world of dreams and torment, especially dear Agealiu. Irritating bitch if you get to know her, just another trying to keep that clan of Cubi going." With a lift and fall of his shoulders, he acted indifferent to the subject. The four of them had never mentioned each other in their pasts to anyone... he just broke that record.
Even the handle of the iron door felt bizarre to his gloved hand as he turned it, pushing inward. With a loud creak, the entrance lay open and lights flickered on overhead. Duivel had given himself an odd feeling by confiding the idea to his, now, student and lesser.
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