Orpheus Lancele. Once a prosperous community full of hope and light, the city has now degenerated into a cesspool of chaos and discontent. With no recognizable military or police force to speak of, many of the city’s dwellers have taken it upon themselves to run rampant and engage in their most heinous and obscene desires. While the majority of the people are content enough to live their lives ignorant of the ever growing litany of excess and violence in their world, the more able-bodied of the city dwellers have made an effort to take some sort of action, often forming minutemen-like companies, though the cohesion in such groups is often spotty and tenuous at best. For the most part there seems to be a sort of balance between the three groups, though that balance is subject to the whims of those within them.

Lancele Aegis. Previously a bastion of both military and political power, the castle now stands as an almost lifeless reminder of better days gone by. Rumor has it that the last remaining member of the royal family dwells within the floating construct’s walls, but as none have even caught a glimpse of such a person, those within the city insist on self-governing as opposed to following some figurehead ruler that may not even exist.

[Princess Allieta and Doctor Johannes Sotheby- Lancele Aegis, Dining Room]

The princess continued to sit, her eyes affixed to the scene below. What exactly the girl was watching was only apparent to her, but whatever it was, it proved interesting enough to ensnare her attention for the last twenty minutes.
A door behind Princess Allieta slowly opened, revealing the form of an older looking man, a cup of tea on a saucer in one hand and a stack of papers in the other. He was dressed in what seemed to be a jet black business suit, tie and all, which proved to be a stark contrast to the man’s bright white bushy eyebrows and moustache.
“How goes today’s city watch, Princess?” the man asked, studying the girl from underneath his half-moon spectacles.
The girl ignored the query. Not to be pushed aside, the man continued to talk. “I’m going down to the city today on business. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Would you like me to pick you up something while I’m there?”
The young girl shook her head without looking up or turning around, her wavy black hair shaking with her head.
The bespectacled man shrugged his shoulders and walked back out of the room via the doorway he had initially entered through. The princess never was really one to talk much, sure, but she normally wasn’t this dismissive. The old man sighed and went along his way, stopping only for a refill of tea.
Back in the dining room, the princess had witnessed something which made her jump. A large cloud of red smoke issued upward from what seemed to be a crater in the northwest corner of the city. Someone was doing a little excavating.

[Baron Nefare, Northeast corner of Orpheus Lancele]

The explosion that the princess had witnessed proved to be the backdrop of the Baron’s latest operation. He and a handful of his henchmen were intent on locating a certain item, and they had taken out nearly an entire city block to hasten the search, ignoring the fact that people were living there. Those who could were fleeing the area, while those critically injured from the blast were being picked off one by one by some of the henchmen who felt like engaging in the practice of euthanasia.
“Comb the area! I want no stone unturned! Find me that map!” commanded a tall, muscular man in a thick dark blue coat. His sapphire blue eyes studied the commotion with a cold efficiency. He cared little about the dying citizens or his own murderous henchmen. He was here for one thing, and one thing only. The map to Celeste Aeternus, and he would not stop until it was in his possession.

((There is a way from the city to the castle and back, but only the doctor is privy to said way, not to mention he seems to be the only one able to pass through the force field safely.))

----Jame's Strothray/ Fission Mailed---



James walked the streets of the North-Eastern corner of Orpheus Lancele with his hands in his pockets. He had heard that someone had seen a certain map not two days before. James, not wanting to pass up an opportunity had decided to go looking for it in the local markets in that corner of the city.

There was a loud explosion that interrupted Jame's train of thought. As he looked up, a fireball briefly irrupted into the sky. A few second later the fire turned to smoke. And now people began running past James, trying to get away from what had happened. James broke into a run, rounding the corner. He stared out over the seen in front of him, most of a block had been leveled. He could hear shooting over the roar of the commotion. He looked at a sign laying half-burnt in a smashed window, it looked like the type of sign vendor's would use, not good.

"Dammit, this is exactly where the market was!" James hissed. He clenched his fist in a fury. After a few moments he put his hand to his forehead, letting out a big sigh.

"Must this be so har-" Jame's eyes immediately focused on someone who had appeared around another corner opposite James, he certainly didn't look like he was a civilian, neither did he look like he cared there had been an explosion, he also had a gun, which was all that mattered to James.

"Hey you! I don't think a pretty boy like you should be around here, I guess I'll have to teach you a lesso-" Before the man could finish his sentence he received a bullet to the forehead. The look of surprise of the man's face was priceless, he had died even before he hit the ground. It was almost enough to make Jame's laugh. James smiled for a second, a small look of accomplishment on his face. It was soon replaced by his regular sneer as he turned around and began walking through one of the city alleys, away from the smoke bellowing in the sky.

"Another failure. All thanks to this city's stagnation..." James thought. That cold fury was still flowing through his veins.

"I need a drink." He said. He then put his hands into his pockets and spat in disgust, he could already tell it was going to be a long day.

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*WHAT I THOUGHT I'D DO WAS PRETEND I WAS ONE OF THOSE DEAF-MUTES*

<Lucyfer von Lich>

Among the urban apartments in West Orpheus Lancele lie a plot of land spanning perhaps half an acre, an unusually large piece of property. Most of the land was covered in piles of scrap metal, strange devices, and palates of raw materials, except for one area. This one spot on the odd property was the location of a small, warehouse like facility, along with a diminutive aprtment jutting from the aluminium shingled roof. Inside lurked the prodigious mind of Lucyfer von Lich, who was donning his prized equiptment, a steam powered, arm mounted drill attached securely to an augmetic rig on Lucyfer's right arm. The weaponized industrial tool was accompanied by a light, plate armour across the arm and left torso, as well as a comparitively compact steam engine power pack, strapped snuggly to Luke's back.
As the inventor ran a couple of checks and tests on his machine, a large, thunderous crash could be heard from a distance, jerking the man from his preperations. 'My expedition will have to wait, it seems.'
Out the door he rushed, hopping on a rusty steam speeder that seemed ready to fall apart, heading north-east to the source of the explosion. Upon arrival, he found an entire city block demolished and a group of presumably sell-steels ravaging the survivors who were unable to escape.
"What a pointless persuit." he hollered at the brigade, stepping off the worthless transport to face the perpatrators. "If you wish for violence, them fight those who feel the same, as I do!" At first he had been slowly meandering towards the men, but as he finished his final word, he burst into a charge activating his drill which whurred into life with a pointed lust for the blood of fools.

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'Samus. That's the only name you'll hear. Samus. It means the end and the death. Samus. I am Samus. Samus is all around you. Samus is the man beside you. Samus will gnaw upon your bones. Look out! Samus is here.' - Horus Rising by Dan Abnett

I can see clearly now the rain is gone! I can see all obsta-- *runs into a pole*

[Korew Bagate]

One of the alleyways of Orpheus Lancele was filled with bullets and fighting for one moment before it was empty. A single barrel stood among the chaos. The top of the barrel rose slightly and two eyes shone out of the darkness. A third eye was seen too... oh wait, that was a gun barrel. All three of the 'eyes' swept the area, looking for danger. Satisfied, the owner of the eyes carefully came out of the barrel and looked at the damage around him. He shook his head, gritted his teeth, and began to pick through the bodies for usable items. He still had his gun in his hand and was not about to be taken unaware. For the thousandth time, he reminded himself to make his jacket more resistant to bullets before forgetting about it.

After picking through the debris for a bit, he came away with a handful of items that were still worth something. He stuffed them in one of the pockets of his jacket and went back in the barrel. He put the top back on and poked out the cork in one of the holes. The bottom had been taken out earlier. In this way, Korew went around the city as the mysterious Moving Barrel.

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Final Fantasy IX was the best Final Fantasy game ever and if you think otherwise you are WRONG!

My fanfiction account. Comments and criticisms are very welcome.

~Don Diggily Doo----So Close To Disaster~

Before the explosion, Donald was floating around the air aimlessly using his trusty umbrella copter as a transportation device. He had been floating for hours, searching for the perfect spot to touch down and perform for the citizens of the icy city. His entire life was always like this since he was fired from his last job, moving from place to place, desperately trying to earn money through awkward performances and odd jobs. How he wished that he could be a famous magician, then he wouldn’t have to move around so much. Alas, he is too much of a bum to even come close to fame, no one would ever pay him any mind when he was performing, and if they did it was only so they could point and laugh. Every day he swore he was going to be better, every day ended in a disaster. He was sick of it, sick of the taunting, sick of the aimless wandering. What he needed was a sign, something that would tell him that gone were his days of shame. He needed something that would prove to him that he had a chance, a chance to become the next Martin the Magnificent. That was highly unlikely, especially after his last performance. The day he ever had a chance to become a famous magician was the day monkeys sprout wings and fly. ”I need something, anything! Just give me a reason to keep trying! I can’t keep going on this way! Please!” he shouted desperately at no one. Amazingly enough, an explosion sounded a few seconds later.

”Blimey!” cried Donald in surprise as smoke rose from the northeast corner of the city. It was an ominous red color, which surely meant some sort of attack was taking place. Naturally, Don Diggily Doo panicked. ”Oh dear, oh dear. What do I do? I’ve only been in this city for…umm….an hour? Dear oh dear, why must this happen now? What if whoever done this come for me next! Got to find safety, can’t stay in the sky, no that won’t do.” Donald frantically searched around the city for a spot to touch down on, but due to his nervousness couldn’t find any. He became lost for direction, and grew even more nervous. Then, at the worst possible moment, a gust of wind overcame him, and he was sent head first into the nearest building, just a few blocks away from the disaster. The collision of his head with the roof of the building was followed by a crash, and him falling towards the ground with his umbrella copter close behind. In almost no time at all, he had found himself lying helplessly on the ground next to a broken umbrella copter.

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Musicmac: "Sam4Books: Always ready to cheer things up with awesome art. Terms and Conditions apply."

-Felix Gaston-

Bar after bar, tavern after tavern, Felix was beginning to wonder if they were making any sort of progress in trying to find some information using such methods. Though he didn’t fully understand the concept because he had never really been in one of those places before, so he couldn’t possibly doubt his partner’s idea of how they could get some info. The smell of smoke never sat well with him, a big enough breath would always send the man into a small fit of coughing. Not to mention that he didn’t like the taste of alcohol too much either, or the fact that a fairly small amount could put him on the floor. He really disliked places like this, it just made him feel so out of place when he was surrounded by people who enjoyed smoking, drinking, and gambling so much when he never took part in those things. The thought had never occurred to him that his partner Achima could have just been wasting time and enjoying herself rather than actually finding out some important info about Celeste Aeternus.

Felix stood with his arms folded across his chest near the entrance of the bar, his fully camo white and gray fur outfit stood out like a sore thumb as he waited amongst the rest of the bar goers. The man glanced around the room cautiously, an uncertain smile upon his face as he looked over to see his partner at one of the gambling tables. He let out a small sigh and then coughed slightly, catching a whiff of smoke into his lungs for a moment.
“Jeez… I need some air…” the man said to himself with another cough, turning and exiting out of the bar. As soon as he stepped outside the cold air licked his face with a chill, but it was a welcomed feeling as he felt the crisp and fresh chill fill his lungs. He took a few deep breaths and smiled, looking up towards the sky as he immediately began to feel better about the situation.

“Much better…” the man said, leaning his body back further enough so that he could see the rooftop of the bar from the top of his vision. His smile widened a slight bit as he pulled out a pair of ice picks from his pockets and turned to face the wall of the building. Without hesitation the man took a running start and leapt onto the side of the bar. His ice picks and the clamps on his feet locked down onto the icy wall and began holding him up in place. People passing by gave him sideways glances as he started to scale the icy surface, reaching the roof of the building before no time at all had passed.

As soon as the man stood himself up onto the top of the bar he let out a satisfied sigh, only to immediately be filled with panic as a nearby explosion almost made him fall backwards of his perch. Felix waved his arms in circles as he teetered on the edge for a moment. Eventually the man was able to balance himself out safely, a curious expression on his face as he turned to see a large cloud of smoke billowing from a nearby neighborhood.

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Lenderic darted through the backstreets and alleyways of the city with cat like grace, though his agility didnt seem to throw his pursuers off course at all. He could hear the thugs behind him crashing in to trash cans and knocking people over as they chased after him. "Get back here you damned cheat! We'll show you what happens when try to con us!" The thugs shouted at Lenderic who kept a good distance between them.

"Come on fellas Its just a few little bit of money, no need to get so worked up! He shouted back to the men as he turned a corner to find a dead end. He quickly surveyed the area then turned to the exit to await his 'attackers'. The four rough looking thugs entered the alley, there bats and pipes in hand and grins across all their faces. "End of the road tough guy." One of the thugs said as he struck a trash can with his pipe as a way to scare Lenderic.

Fellas, Fellas cant we just talk about this? Lenderic said as he readied his hook launcher from behind his back. The thugs didnt seem to back down and moved in closer. "No? Well then..." Suddenly Lenderic whipped his metal arm around, firing a glass capsule at the men which burst to create a large cloud of smoke. All that could be heard within the cloud was the coughing of the men and the sudden sound of a gun firing off like a machine gun.

From the cloud Lenderic exited the alley, holstering his pistol and returning his hook launcher in to his arm. As he stood there, cocky and triumphant a massive explosion rocked the city and Lenderic looked to the sky to see a pillar of fire off in the distance. With a grin he armed his launcher and fired a grappling hook to the rooftops and zipped up for a better look. "My my looks like theres a fireworks show and everyone doesnt seem to want to be at the party. He said as he watched many people fleeing the area.

=The St. Carmichaels, at home=

Byron was awoken from a dead sleep by the resounding sound of an explosion, which was a few blocks over, by the sound of it. He opened his eyes blearily, glancing about the apartment. For a moment, he wondered if he had dreamed it, as he continued to lay motionless on the worn down couch. He heard the clamor of stampeding people through the poorly insulated walls. Byron only shifted, sighing, before trying to go back to sleep. So long as they didn't bomb the apartment, it would only be just another day in Orpheus Lancele.

Just as Byron began to doze off again, Damien came parading into the room, banging the door open and dropping his card table loudly on the floor. Byron groaned, glowering at his brother-- neither of them were all too phased by explosions, as Damien's life was something of criminal, and none of that stuff was out of the norm. Damien, who seemed to be in one of those undeniable good moods, ignored his brother's grumpiness.

"Byron, I made a helluva lot of cash today, check it out," Damien exclaimed, fishing into his pocket and drawing out an uncommonly thick wad of cash, "It should last us a month, even more. Hell, we could even go out to eat, get you some presentable clothes."

"My clothes are fine," Byron interjected, "They still fit, they're still in one piece, they're fine." His tone was sharp and annoyed.

"Well, in that case, I could use a new coat. A nice red one, with gold buttons and fur lining around the hood," Damien said absently, strolling back towards the door, "Yes, I think I will get a coat. Hey bro, Dave's in twenty minutes? It's on me."

"Sure," Byron said, flopping back on to the couch. As if Damien needed yet another coat.

=Dave's=

The perk about living towards the center of Orpheus Lancele was that everything you could possibly need was only a short walk away, including Good Dave's Dives. The boys went their often, but not often enough to be "regulars". Byron pedaled his monowheel the whole way there, beating Damien to the restaurant. After Byron hid his vehicle somewhere, he went in, and his brother arrived about five minutes later, sporting a new, red coat.

The two of them sat at a table made for four, facing each other so that they seemed to mirror each other. They both seemed dressed for an expedition, though Damien was in newer, more dashing clothes, and Byron was not. A well-dressed, young-faced waitress came up and took their order, her voice high and chirpy.

"I'll have a burger, ma'am," Damien said coolly, flashing a winning smile, "And a milkshake. Chocolate."

"And I would like a cheeseburger, please," Byron said anxiously, his eyes flickering up to the girl that was taking their order. Noticing that she was looking right at him, Byron blushed and quickly added on, "And a Shirley Temple, if that's okay."

Giggling at Byron's shyness, the waitress dismissed herself with her chirpy voice, walking away lightly. Damien followed her with his eyes, and calmly inquired, "Boy, she's a looker. Just enough curves. Don't you think, Ron-Ron?"

"I don't know," Byron said with a quick, dismissive tone, still a bit red in the face, "But, you could be a little less obvious about ogling her. It's embarrassing." Damien laughed, continuing to stare at the girl until she disappeared around the corner.

"You're such a prude, Ron-Ron," Damien chastised his brother, his eyes glittering. Byron said nothing, only staring out the window of the diner. From there, there was a clear view of the street where the explosion had been, and from there Byron watched what was happening. Damien had begun to ramble in his normal, monologue sort of way, though Byron wasn't listening-- Damien mostly spoke just to hear his voice, he never really expected an audience.

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<<If I had an awesome quote, it'd go right here.>>

Svendal

A haggard man walked through the city, an outcast among the civilized world one would say, for he wore not the fine clothing the defined the upper class, he wore not the simple and down-cast clothing of the lower class.

Nay for the man who walked amongst these folk was a warrior born-again, born here within these walls but founded his true calling outside the limits imposed by the inhabitants of Orpheus Lancele, his posture tall, filled with both pride and arrogance, in his right hand held his axe which partially rested on his shoulders while his left rested on the pommel of his sword; the only reminder of the days he spent as a youth in the civilized city.

A smile slowly formed on his face for the looks he received from the crowd entertained him, knowing that few would likely know his origin. Though he conceded that even fewer would care, for nearly a decade he had lived in the frozen wasteland, hunting with the so called 'savages' and living off the land.
While the city-folk got their food and warmth provided for them, he had to endure the constant trials the world had forced upon him. It was exactly the world he wanted to live in. Constant adventure, knowing that every day could be your last, the bitter winds cutting the face as one stalked through the snow seeking his next meal.
No amount of wealth could give him that satisfaction. And no word would ever describe his need for that sense of self-understanding he found while 'out-there'.

Svendal walked through the crowded streets, while on lookers tried to busy themselves to avoid any form of contact with him. His fur coat was the only piece of clothing that covered his chest and left a large proportion of his arms bare.

An explosion rocked the alley way he was in and his smile turned into a bearded grin, "Looks like only a few things have changed while I was gone, lovely, I was beginning to think the whole world had changed on me!" Svendal laughed, his voice gruff from the exposure to the frigid cold, "Let's see, if there's fun to be had over there!."
Without hesitation, fear or strategy he headed off to the pillar of smoke.

-Northeast Corner, An Alleyway: Saved by a Bang!-

Mikhail was manning his makeshift store in an unnamed alleyway, with a bored expression on his face and tapping his fingers rhythmically on the counter top. What he calls a store, is just a crude combination of plywood and bent nails, with the words 'Unique Trinkets for Sale!' painted on top a board in bright yellow. 'Man... it's a particularly slow day today...', he mumbled, while fiddling around with one of the small trinkets displayed on the counter top. Just as he finished saying that sentence, a burly tanned man with tattoos all over his arms stepped into the alleyway. Mikhail perked up with a smile on his face. 'Welcome to Lancete's Emporium! Where...,' his sentence trailed off as he realized who it was. His expression turned to one of apprehension.

'My, my... Mikhail, was it? Took me helluva trouble to track you down. Now... remember that steam revolver you sold me the other day?' the man said, with a sadistic smile on his face. He cracked his knuckles as he approached the stall. 'Err... revolver? What revolver? I think you must have mistaken me for someone else', he said, fidgeting a little. Suddenly, the man smacked his hand down on the counter top, splitting it into two. 'Don't play dumb with me! That piece of junk almost killed me!' he yelled, his expression changed to one of anger. Now you either give me a refund plus a few other interests or else... you will end up just like that piece of wood' he said with a snarl, while pointing at the counter top he just broke. 'Now... just calm down. I can explain all of this...' Mikhail said, his eyes darting around to find a means of escape.

Just at that moment, a loud explosion ripped through the vicinity. It was close, too close for comfort... but it was just the opportunity he was looking for. The tremors from the explosion caused the man to lose his balance for a moment. At the same time, Mikhail activated his steam boots which caused him to lift off from the ground. The billowing steam blinded the man and Mikhail maneuvered his way out of the alleyway, albeit clumsily. He landed at the rooftop of a building a few blocks from the alleyway and sighed in relief. 'Phew, that was mighty close... haven't got a guy that close to me for a while... Well, shame I have to leave my merchandise behind, but there's nothing useful there anyway,' he said to himself. 'Hmm... just what was that though? he said, catching sight of some residual red smoke not far from his location. He could also hear some gunshots in the distance, which always mean a bad thing.

Suddenly, he saw a queer man holding an umbrella being blown out of the sky by a gust of wind and then crashing into a nearby building. Mikhail just looked on, dumbstruck for a few seconds before saying: 'Huh, now that's something you don't see every day. I suppose I could go see how the guy's doing...', With that, he made his way to where he saw the man crashed to. When he found him, he took a good look at him again for a few seconds for he have not seen a person quite like him. 'Hey, you there.... are you alright?' he said, squatting down beside Donald, before spotting the strange umbrella he was using earlier, broken on the floor.

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~James Strothray@GoodDave's~

The anger in Jame blood had ebbed away along with his little walk. He had taken his hand out of his pockets, and was walking at a more relaxed pace, even if he still felt a little angry at the unpredictable change in plans.

He stopped for a moment more, to collect himself.
"James, you are a gentleman of good standing, you must act like it. Well, I'm not really a gentlemen at heart, but hey I guess in these times to get anything done, you gotta act "royal" James thought, he took out a small comb and ran it through his hair a couple of times. Straightening his jacket he entered out into a street. His step was then interrupted by a loud stomach grumble. He put a hand on it, and looked down the street, he hadn't eaten breakfast, so now was the best time for anything, scratch that "drink" idea he had, had earlier.

After a turn around another corner James spotted the place he needed. It was new to him, and it also had a funny name (Good Dave's Dive's?) nonetheless it didn't seem to shabby, but still low on his list of places fit for a man such as himself (or so he thought). James supposed he would grace the place with his presence. James obviously thought he was doing the owner a good deed by simply eating there. He walked up to the door, an briefly straightened out his jacket again. James always looked quite strange himself, one could see that he did not wear cloths suited to the cold, James had never had a problem with the cold for some reason, that and he always carried a weapon of some sort on his back., and a gun on his thigh Now carrying weapons was not odd, in that place, but under normal circumstances anyone else with a weapon of such size would of been turned away, nor would the gun be very "nice". But just by James appearance alone, one could tell he was of importance (the monocle didn't really help either)


The doorbell jingled as he walked in. For a moment all eyes were on James. James gave a surprised look back. They all soon looked back down to their food, the normal hubbub returning. James then sat down at table near the center of the room. As soon as he picked up the menu, a waiter had immediately jumped on him (not literally of course). She was a young, nice-looking girl, one could of even said she was a 9/10. But this did not matter much to James, who did even look up as she came.

"I'll have some coffee and some scones, please." James said, as he put down the menu. He looked up at her. "I would also like a paper if it's not too much" He finished. James had a rather bored look in comparison to her rather dazzling expression.
For a few seconds she did nothing but stare into James bored eyes, a brow of James began to slowly raise up before she broke the silence.
"Aren't you that guy in charge of the steam-trains? That job must be hard, I mean with all that money you make..." James wasn't interested, but not stupid, he knew she was (trying) to flirt with him.
"Can you pl-"
"And I bet it must get a little lonely. Especially for a single young guy like you *smile*"
"Time to pull out the big guns." James thought. He motioned for the waiter to get a little closer, James then whispered soemthing into her ear. After a few seconds she jumped straight up, her face was bright red, with a crooked smile on it. She quickly walked off, to get James food (and perhaps think about what he had just said)

James couldn't help but let out a chuckle. Of course he was going to stand her up and not meet her in the back to take her to a local motel (The part about what he had said he was going to do to her has been tastefully omitted) after he was done eating. James would finish his meal and leave. It was just that sometimes he liked to abuse his power. It made life more exciting. His food got predictably fast to him, accompanied by that same pretty waiter, who became red once more, and let out a flustered "Y-your welcome" at James thankyou. He then opened the paper and began to read, perhaps this day wasn't going to be as bad as he thought.

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*WHAT I THOUGHT I'D DO WAS PRETEND I WAS ONE OF THOSE DEAF-MUTES*

{Joesph Von Vexel}

_Northeast corner of Orpheus Lancele_Rooftop_Fight!

“Why?” Joesph questioned as he watched the flames rise up to the sky. “Such things could have been avoided, but no you couldn't.” He added as he listened to the tall muscular man wearing a dark blue coat bark orders to his people. Joesph stood on top of a nearby rooftop, he went to the rooftop to practice his violin. He didn't expect an explosion, nor watching a brutal display of people practicing mercy killings. “ This is exactly why man should not possess it.” Joesph said as he grabbed his crossbow.

A few silver bolts and his crossbow is armed and ready to fire. His crossbow rests on the ledge of the rooftop, but before taking a shot, Joesph bear witness a man fighting back against the injustice. “ Godspeed to you, lad.” He mentioned. Joesph then takes aim, his hand tightly squeezes the handle of his weapon, and his index finger gently touches the trigger. His target was the man in the dark blue coat, their leader.

“Forgive me, but you must die.” He whispered as he pulled the trigger. The mechanic gears of his cross brow spins and wind. The tightly wound string unleashes and the steel bolt flies. However, the gears don't stop, they continue to move, the string is tighten again and another bolt is loaded. Joesph pulls the trigger twice more, firing a total of three arrows at this man. The initial arrow was aimed for the man's left leg while the last two were aimed for an arm or chest.

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"Fate smiles on the strange. So its a good thing, I'm the strangest of all." - William Livingstone, Cirque de la Nuit

-[Margaret Clements]-

If one entered the "Cat and Fiddle" they would fine quite a scene. It was a fairly large establishment, not cramped by any means, but all the patrons were gathered around a square table in the middle of the common room. Characters of all colours, gathered in a circle, pumping their fists chanting and cheering. Seated at the table were to two people, a huge ugly bear of a man and a slim pretty young lady. The young woman had her jacket slung over the back of the chair and was leaning back easily. She was clad in a tight, light grey, long sleeved v-neck shirt which exposed ample creamy skin and slightly freckled cleavage, her fiery auburn hair tied in a loose bun. Littering the table was at least a score of shot glasses and a new duo was arriving, carried by the plump barkeep. The huge man clumsily grabbed his shot glass and gestured to Margaret, as if to say 'Lady's first'. He was sweating profusely and gripping the table. Margaret smile at the man and winked flirtatiously before knocking the shot back and slamming the glass down onto the table, bottom up. Her opponent looked balefully at his glass and slowly tipped it back. He brought his glass down and sat there. Then began to sway, like and tree in a gale. Margaret was sitting back with one arm over the back of the chair, she raised the other to her mouth and shouted "TIMBERRR!" as the man toppled to the ground. She was rushed by those who had been supporting her and she accepted handshakes and pats on the back quickly before getting down to business, getting money from those who had bet against her. Ten minutes later she was thumbing a hefty stack of notes, she slid the bartender a couple and shrugged into her coat. Winding her scarf about her neck and pulling on her toque she sauntered out into the street, turning over her shoulder to blow the patrons a kiss.

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{Good Dave's Dive, David Beyter} (As I own the place, I'll take a couple liberties purely for interaction and the sake of entertainment.)

The diner, or dive -- though the place was kept in considerable care for a common locale of rougher sorts, so dive wasn't proper -- was rather large in the expansion. Dozens of tables lining the walls, each one made to booth four seats with their own windows. They weren't able to be opened though, of course. Merely for decoration. Or at least, that's what James, Byron, and Damien might suspect when no latches or locks were visible. But the regulars of the diner -- some of whom were there already -- knew well enough that Dave had put the glass in personally out of his own wallet. They were all repeat customers, in more business than one, and knew Dave liked to -- on some rare occasions -- use the place as a fort. Reinforced walls, doors with plates within hollowed cavities under common wood for disguise, not to mention windows that Dave himself would take several minutes to break with even his best gun.

But that didn't mean squat once inside. All the locals who knew well enough knew Dave thought of the restaurant as neutral territory. No matter what gang, nor family, nor business you were into -- Dave's was neutral and considered as holy a ground as any of these guys could find. You'd always have support here. Simple fact of that was because Dave worked on all sides, so whomsoever tried something in his place would find he and his would-be target winding up gunned down. Dave don't care who starts it; Dave will finish it.

That said, all the regulars had taken notice of the kids and the rick peacock. They were always nervous of new blood. Which was why Dave always heard from the front about if anyone new came in. Rebecca, the young waitress that had waited the tables for all three as they were in her corner of the diner, went straight into the kitchen by the swinging door near the bar counter in center of the diner. A quick glimpse inside showed a couple of cooks running around while another one waved a meat cleaver at them. Motivational speeches were a hallmark of Dave's business network, you see. Meanwhile, all the three other waitresses -- only one of which being around Rebecca's age, since they were sisters -- brought food and took orders from other patrons, all while mentioning dishes that none of the three might notice are nowhere to be seen on the menu. Each waitress mentioned "salesbury radishes" in different methods, though all their tables got the same results.

Each and every one of the dozen or so more men slowly reached to ready guns or weapons while carefully watching the three. Then the waitresses mentioned "twin shrimp scampees" and the men seemed to gaze more toward James. The girls new the boys had come around before, but warned to be careful anyway. Seconds later, the kitchen door swung open and out came Dave, untying his white apron to toss onto a stool at the counter, sitting down on top and tucking out a pack of cigarettes.

His hazel green eyes quickly looked to the three, then closed. Dave just shrugged and lifted his lighter. The men of the diner all relaxed at once right as Dave lit up the cigarette. He brushed his rough stubble, stroking his chin and cheeks while taking a slow tug at the slim stick. Leaning back upon the counter, he blew a thick puff of smoke into the air, looking across the distance of ten feet toward the corner booths where the three younger boys sat.

"... Seen you two in here a couple times." Dave stated to the twins, taking a quick breath of his cigarette. "You like it here...?" A couple of the regulars looked up at Dave as if asking, "The hell you say?!" Dave didn't give them a single bit of attention as they just returned to their meals without daring to see what was up.

Rebecca, meanwhile, came out of the kitchen with a large tray, carrying the food the boys had ordered to their booth. She quietly put down their orders, smiling all the while and giving Damien a quick wink and a giggle before taking her large tray and heading back to the kitchen. Her little sister, who looked to be the same age as the twins, looked silently to the three newbies. Her expression was quiet and rather gloomy under her auburn curls, a rather abrupt contrast to her cheerier sister who was more around James' age. She hurried into the kitchen after staring for a few seconds.

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{The Moving Barrel (A.K.A. Korew Bagate)}

The mysterious barrel moved down the streets, suddenly stopping whenever someone turned to look. After a while, it ended up near the warehouses. The top popped open and Korew sighed when he saw the door was broken down again. He pulled out one of the canisters from his jacket and read the label on the bottom. "Sleeping Gas Grenade. That should work." He pulled out the pin and rolled it into the building. He waited but all the canister gave was a pathetic puff before dying. However, his actions alerted the thief who had broken it. He rushed out, only to get clubbed on the back on the head by the butt of Korew's pistol. He removed the man's coat and pants, put the body in the barrel, closed both ends, and kicked the barrel down the street.

He entered his house and shook his head. He kept his valuables on him but he was still annoyed. His bed had been ripped open. Apparently they were looking for money. It was a good thing he kept a sleeping bag under the floorboards. Veins twitched on his forehead when he discovered they had found, and destroyed, that too. He spread out the coat and pants and searched them. He found a bit of money in the pockets of the pants and a good knife in the coat. He wasn't going to keep the knife in his pockets but decided to hang on to it anyway. He looked around and decided that his home was too wrecked to keep living there. He'd have to find a new place.

About an hour later he left the pawn shop, a little happier and a bit richer. He decided to make his way to a nearby restaurant and get a good meal. He hadn't had one for a great while. "Good Dave's eh? Looks good enough." He entered it and waited quietly for his turn to order.

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Final Fantasy IX was the best Final Fantasy game ever and if you think otherwise you are WRONG!

My fanfiction account. Comments and criticisms are very welcome.

Lenderic watched for a few minutes as some men ran through the streets, shooting at people they came across and shook his head. "No class....no class at all..." He saw one of the men turn a corner and ended up face to face with a little street urchin, one that reminded Lenderic of himself and decided that he no longer enjoyed watching. He pulled out his pistol and shot the man from above right in the top of his head. The little boy ran off scared from the gun fire and Lenderic jumped off the roof, catching himself using his grappling hook and landed next to his victim.

He searched the body and found a bit of cash which he quickly pocketed as well as the mans gun that seemed to be well modified. "This should fetch a good price...wonder what else you got my friend." In the mans coat pocket he found a parchment with what seemed to be orders written on them.

"So you was lookin' for a map huh?" He began to read the orders as he sat down on the dead man. As he read on his eyes widened at what he had discovered and shot up to his feet."Theres a map to the Celeste Aterenus around here?! IM GONNA BE RICH!" Lenderic should and ran out of the alley, towards the area of the recent explosion, searching more of the thugs who may also be searching for the map.

Bar after bar, tavern after tavern, Achima dragged her partner Felix to all these places to ask questions about the missing artifact. And although Achima was as interested in finding the missing artifact as Felix, she did not show it. To every tavern they went, she watched how her friend made inquisitive questions about it while she was at the gambling tables emptying the pockets of the other gamblers trough cheating. “HAHAHAHAH oohhh im on a winning Streak!..” she said loudly and drank some scotch from the bottle. “Oy mate you have been such a great help filling my pockets but I have to go now!” she said seeing her partner leaving. She got up, put on her jacket, and headed to the exit. Just then an enormous hand grabbed her arm and stopped her. "OY!" another gambler said "You can’t be leaving just like that! waaah are ye scared dolly? Or is it that yer cheating!"

Achima stared at him for a couple of seconds the scoffed. “Cheating?...Oh Dear sir! I’m baffled by your accusations!.... you cheated!”
"WHAT!" the gambler said as his face turned red. "You say I cheat, what in devil's name makes you say that!" Achima merely pointed with her finger at a card that could be seen in his sleeve as a proof of him cheating. Seeing this caused a fit of rage from another nearby gambler who grabbed the bottle of scotch and attacked the accuser yelling. "YOU CHEATING SCUM!" a fight erupted, just like in the wild west, everyone fighting everyone. This gave the woman a quick chance of slipping out of the tavern after her partner, but not before retrieving her card on the gambler's sleeve, which she had placed there in the first place when no one was looking. Chaos however seemed to be following her that day as a massive explosion could be seen and heard coming from the northeast corner of the city. She could feel the blast wave of the explosion and felt lucky she was not close enough for the explosion to send her flying away. “...Bloody hell...now that’s where I have to go no-… Felix? Felix where are you...now come here silly boy don’t tell me the silly little explosion stopped your silly faint heart?” she turned around and saw the man waving his arms to regain balance so he wouldn’t fall off the building and he then stared towards the explosion.

“Oh, there you are...bet you’re thinking the same thing im thinking, now get off there.” she said with a slightly mischievous smile.

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Hiryu: *Hey, when life makes you bitter you tag along with it =3
Hiryu: *Gurl, you freaky

~Don Diggily Doo: An Alleyway----Oh I’m Perfectly Fine~

The strange man lay dazed for minutes before a Good Samaritan just happened to come by. It took a while for him to come to, but when he did he was not a happy camper. First sign of this was his rather rude reaction to the strangers query about his condition. ”Alright?” he replied in shock at how ridiculous the question was. ”Of course I’m not bloody alright! In fact, I’m the exact opposite of alright!” He scowled, crashing into a building was the last thing he wanted to happen, which says a lot for his sense of logic. The man lifted himself up, preferably without the help of the stranger, and by instinct felt the top of his head as if expecting something to be there. ”My hat…” he breathed, ”…Where’s my hat?!”

A first impression really tells a lot about a person, and how someone would eventually remember them for years to come. It can either have a good impact, or a rather unpleasant one. It would probably be safe to say that Donald was not making a great first impression. One might wonder what is it he does with his life, or even question his parent’s ability to raise a child. One might even wonder if he even had parents. He also showed himself to be quite the timid man, who was desperately searching for his hat as if the world depended on him finding it. Donald made quite a deal out of his lost hat, and constantly babbled unintelligible gibberish that was almost impossible to make out. Though it did have bits and parts that went along the lines of “…must find hat…” and “…why must this always happen to me…” Either way, he sure looked silly.

After a minute or two of stressing out, the magician finally spotted his top hat lying next to a broken umbrella copter. ”Oh!” he cried, partially out of relief but also in a sense of shock. He couldn’t believe his only means of transportation was broken. Without any forethought the strange man rushed beside his broken transportation device, grabbing his hat and plopping on his head in the process. He seemed to have forgotten about the scavenger who was at least nice enough to stop by and see if he was okay. ”Oh dear, oh dear, WHY must this happen? Now I’m stranded in this city of madness! This can’t be happening, how will I survive?...I can't live in a place like this!” Donald gathered the ruined invention in his arms, and stood up searching for someone who he could ask for assistance. Finally, he noticed the kind stranger, and not out of annoyance either. ”You!”, he said pointing to the Good Samaritan, ”You don’t happen to know where I can find a mechanic who could fix this do you?” Again, he seemed to have forgotten that the stranger had helped him beforehand.

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Musicmac: "Sam4Books: Always ready to cheer things up with awesome art. Terms and Conditions apply."

<Lucyfer's fun time!>

The first man, or more prey, drew out a shortsword at the incoming intruder, snarling more than a few unsavoury comments. When Luke was with reach, the man struck out with a wide, diagonal slash, which was easily deflected by the inventors steel pauldron on his right shoulder. In response. Lucyfer, using the momentum he had built up, thrust the whurring drill up into the henchman's gut, splattering the poor fool bowels and innards about in a bloody shambles. Such was an distastful display, but necissary to preserve what was left of this crumbling society until the Celeste Aterenus was found. With a curt swing, he dislodged what was left of the man from his bladed mechanism.

Turning to his right, he spotted the next one, who had dropped what he was doing, and his jaw, trapped in a state of awe at the gruesome kill his colleague had suffered. Lucyfer smiled at his dumbstricken face and pointed his weapon at him, batently mouthing: "Your next.", after which, the drill fired from his arm in a billowing discharge of compressed steam accompanied by the clicking twirling of winding and unwinding clockwork. Saddly, one might think, the mighty drill missed its supposed mark, lodging itself into a large piece of rubble. But this was no mistake, for then, the steel cable linking the drill to the machine began to shorten at exponential rates, as did the distance between the two men. The frightened mercinary began to stumble backward, attempting to flee, and utterly failing to do so. And then a scream could be heard as Lucyfer casually strolled out from behind the boulder, his drill turned of as he cleaned the blood off with a previously clean white rag. The scene he left in his wake a reminder to those who would try to bulwark Luke's dreams.

The others, who had paid him no mind, unware of his deeds, he ignored, heading for the appearant leader, the Baron Nafare, whom he had seem before, many times obstructing his search with his own.

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'Samus. That's the only name you'll hear. Samus. It means the end and the death. Samus. I am Samus. Samus is all around you. Samus is the man beside you. Samus will gnaw upon your bones. Look out! Samus is here.' - Horus Rising by Dan Abnett

I can see clearly now the rain is gone! I can see all obsta-- *runs into a pole*

Svendal
"Argh, what the hell?" Svendal groaned, looking up to the sky for the seventh time in a row as he tried to get his bearings, "How the heck did I get lost? I took a right then two lefts, then took the alley and then headed to the following left... and...

"I'm lost... I'm so very lost..." Svendal thought melodramatically but then he always had a way of getting lost, even when he hunted he needed a partner to lead him back to the current camp least he fall to man-eating predators or the elements.
He stopped, looking to the dissipating smoke and sighed at the missed opportunity. "Ah well, I'm sure I'll get to fight sooner or latter... provoked or not, either way I need my daily medication. He looked at the crowd trying to look at least partially friendly and asked, "Pardon the hopelessly lost savage but anyone know a decent bar where one might quench his thirst and wake with an ice crushing headache?

-Rooftop: What in the Manner of...?-

Mikhail quickly stood on his feet and took a few steps back with his hands raised to his chest, signalling for him to cool down. It was an understandable reaction, after the guy he tried to check up on almost chewed his head off. 'Woah, woah, steady there! You are gonna pop a vein there with that kind of attitude', he said half-jokingly. However, what he had said had seemingly fallen into deaf ears, as the queer man seemed to be in some sort of a self-absorbed search of a hat of some kind. The man paced up and down desperately around the area, occasionally muttering something unintelligible. What else Mikhail do other than staring at the strange man, one that looks like a character out of a children's book? He was also trying his very best to suppress from bursting out in giggles, as the sight before him was pretty amusing.

'Ah!' Mikhail yelled, perhaps due to the sudden cry uttered from Donald. As he was bemoaning his broken umbrella, several cogs begin to churn in Mikhail's mind. A plan... and a rather dastardly one at that was being born. When the man called out for him, he jumped a little. 'Ah, what..? he said, looking lost for a moment. Oh! A mechanic, you say?' he said, repeating his words. 'Perfect, just perfect...' he mumbled under his breath. 'Hmm... well... most of the mechanics here are quite expensive. I wouldn't recommend any of them...', he said, which is pretty much a white lie. 'Buuut.... I do know a few things about gadgets and stuff. So I can help you look at them', he continued. 'Oh, by the way... the name's Mikhail, Mikhail Lancete. Not 'You'', he said, offering his hand to him for a handshake.

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=The St. Carmichael Boys, Dave's=

At a glance, the boys didn't seem like much. But, in a place like Orpheus Lancele, even the most innocent-looking children weren't always what they seemed. Damien's tone dropped to an imperceptible volume as he murmured, "Brother, we should start looking for that map after dinner-- I just hope it hasn't been found yet. We should go together, so hide your monowheel somewhere good, okay? Or just ride slowly--"

Damien broke of, realizing that his twin wasn't listening to him. Byron's gaze had wandered from the window to the dive, his head propped up on one arm. Both boys were abnormally observant, though Byron sometimes wondered about his brother-- Damien was more impulsive, often tossing his observations to the wind, while Byron did most of the thinking. The moment they wandered inside, Byron noticed the atmospheric change. The askance glances and the silent murmuring that rippled amongst the other customers, though barely perceivable, registered on Byron's scale. Even the waitresses watched their step.

Byron didn't drag attention to it, though he made sure to keep his hands above the table-- everyone suspected everyone of something in this town. And why wouldn't they? It was a hellhole. Men continued glancing at the boys, though only the obvious ones gave their intent away, their hands lingering over holsters for guns.

"You aren't even listening," Damien sighed in exasperation, throwing his arms up, "I don't see why I even bother."

"Huh?" Byron answered, "Sorry, Damien."

"Forget it."

Byron watched with interest as a lean muscled man came wandering out of the back, taking a casual drag from a cigarette. He had to be Dave, the man in charge. Who else could he be? Even the other patrons regarded him with a certain degree of respect. And to what do we owe this honor? Byron wondered. Of course, as Damien had his back to Dave, he didn't notice the man until he spoke. And even then Damien was slow to respond. He looked around, to see if there was another "you two", then noticing that there wasn't, hastened to reply, "Yes, sir, we've been in here once or twice. The food here is excellent."

Damiens' eyes flashed at Byron secretively, as though he knew something of Dave that Byron did not. Damien had heard of Dave through the gang that employed him, the hit man that owned a restaurant in town. Yes, he was that well known. And, as a conman and a thief, Damien's life was somewhat more anonymous. Damien and Byron dutifully murmured "thank you's" as the waitress returned with their food, before Damien continued, "I should hope that our presence isn't a problem, sir?"

Byron simply sat silently behind his brother. His gaze wandered to a mysterious looking girl, lingering on her just long enough for her to vanish into the kitchen. When she vanished, Byron let his gaze wander back to Dave, and he watched him very intently-- there was no emotion in Byron's gaze, only cool, cautious calculation.

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<<If I had an awesome quote, it'd go right here.>>

Felix looked around for a moment when he heard his name being called out by a familiar voice. His eyes settled onto the ground beneath him and where his partner was now standing. Perhaps it was that giant explosion that pulled her out of the place or maybe she had simply gotten bored with it, he really didn’t know. But at the very least this meant that they could get moving now, and it was at least worth it to try and find out what the source of that explosion was.

“That explosion was right in the middle of town…” was the first thing that Felix said before he turned his eyes back up to the cloud of smoke. Something that big probably meant that there were a lot of people dead or hurt right now. It was certainly enough to dampen his mood a good amount, he wondered if there could have even been any survivors after such a blast. But despite his thoughts on the people in the explosion, he had other things to worry about at the moment.
“I’ll move better on the roofs like this.” he said as he began to walk along the top of the bar, heading towards the direction of the explosion in a brisk walk.
“Did you find out anything in the bar?”

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As he read his newspaper Jame's picked up on a certain hostility in the room. He knew his was being scrutinized by the people in the room, and he knew they were all fingering their weapons. This filled Jame's with anger to no end. Although he didn't show it, James was brimming with anger towards the people in the restaurant.

"How dare they assume I'm here to start trouble! I mean do these people read the newspaper? Surely they have heard of me, they cannot possibly be so culturally ignorant as to not know....stupid diner peons...." James thought.
But Jame's ears immediately picked up on someone's conversation as soon as they mentioned a map of some sort. Although he didn't show it, he had changed his focus to their conversation at the mention of the word.

"Of course, it only makes sense that other people are looking for this map. maybe I'll listen in and see what these guys sa-" Jame's train of thought was interrupted by another hush in the room. His eyes quickly glanced up from his newspaper, up to the man who had appeared at the kitchen door. He didn't seem that remarkable but from the what everyone was looking at him, he could tell he was of some importance. The man walked in Jame's directiom. and for a second James thought he was going to stop at his own table, but the man simply walked past James, to talk to the guys he had been eavesdropping not a moment before. Jame's then turned his attention ahead of him, staring back at the girl ("Oh, so she has sisters?") standing near the kitchen door. As soon as she left, James returned to his duty, eating, and trying to listen in on what the old man was saying to the kids....

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*WHAT I THOUGHT I'D DO WAS PRETEND I WAS ONE OF THOSE DEAF-MUTES*

{Good Dave's Dive, David Beyter}

Dave just shook his head with his eyes closed. He let a slow puff of smoke release from his lips. "Hmmm... No. No problems unless you boys don't abide by rules." He looked aside to the others as all the regulars of the diner gave trust to the brothers, now only every now-and-then glancing to James. "And this diner is protected territory..." Dave then looked straight to James without a need to check his location. "I'm saying this now so I don't need to later. So keep eavesdropping while you read that newspaper... As long as you boys act with proper manners and respect, this place is sanctuary. Abide by the rule to always take fights outside and never pull the first trigger, you're welcomed."

Rebecca came back out with her tray, carrying James' order to him and quietly setting it out. She then looked at Dave with a bright smile. "You two will enjoy it here. Dave has a soft spot for kids~" She twirled around and winked at her younger sister, who happened to be spying per her usual routine. The brunette instantly dashed behind the wall of the kitchen to hide inside. "So cuuute~" She then bubbled and giggled her way into the kitchen to tease her little sister.

Dave just sat there, staring at the girl who just left, letting out a deep growl of a sigh. "Anyway, with the rules clear, welcome to the Dive," he blinked and looked between the twins. "As for a map... Everyone's looking for that. So, if you really hope to find it, you're gonna need some actual leads..." He lifted his free hand as the bud of his cigarette grew short, brushing the tip into the ash tray in his hand.

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