*Gasp cough* "Damn these Blues..." *Cough* Vinny limped through a back alley in central London. A London not like the one we live in, but a dark London run by Corporate greed and a sick economy. The streets were sick and the people were broken. Police ran the streets with an iron fist that was ready to crush anyone that opposed, they shot first and warned later.
If anyone was to step out of line for any reason what-so-ever, they'd be sent to the oven. A metal box quite like the Brazen bull. Hollowed on the inside and made up of complete bronze. When it's lay inside roasting to death, the pipes would amplify the sound so that everyone within a 15 mile radius could hear.
Only the workers traveled the streets. Anyone else risked an invitation to the bronze oven.
Right now, Vince' hurt, bad. The Eagles are dead... he's the last.
*Knock Knock* "Hel-help please..." He'd lost track of how many doors he'd knocked on. He felt the darkness creep over his eyes but he'd push through and fought for those extra few minutes... someone has to open up... someone has to help
He came up to one last door. One last try before he'd collapsed, one last go before they caught him "Hel-Hello?" *Cough Cough* "Please... i... i need help" he strained his voice so much so he'd end up wheezing a little but it was all he could muster. He felt his body give in, the cold surface of the door he was leaning against left his skin as he came crashing to the ground.
Will you open the door?
If anyone was to step out of line for any reason what-so-ever, they'd be sent to the oven. A metal box quite like the Brazen bull. Hollowed on the inside and made up of complete bronze. When it's lay inside roasting to death, the pipes would amplify the sound so that everyone within a 15 mile radius could hear.
Only the workers traveled the streets. Anyone else risked an invitation to the bronze oven.
Right now, Vince' hurt, bad. The Eagles are dead... he's the last.
*Knock Knock* "Hel-help please..." He'd lost track of how many doors he'd knocked on. He felt the darkness creep over his eyes but he'd push through and fought for those extra few minutes... someone has to open up... someone has to help
He came up to one last door. One last try before he'd collapsed, one last go before they caught him "Hel-Hello?" *Cough Cough* "Please... i... i need help" he strained his voice so much so he'd end up wheezing a little but it was all he could muster. He felt his body give in, the cold surface of the door he was leaning against left his skin as he came crashing to the ground.
Will you open the door?
((I'm using Donovan. His profile is under the tab labeled Death.))
The owner of the house did finally open the door, just a crack. He peeked out with his black eyes, staring at the slumped figure for several moments. "You're not supposed to die yet." The quiet voice said from behind the door and it closed again.
The door was opened wide a few seconds later, a young silver haired man standing in the doorway. With gloved hands, he reached down and pulled Vincent into the house, promptly closing the door after him.
After some maneuvering, Donovan managed to pull Vincent upright, careful not to let the unconscious man touch his skin. Donovan half walked half dragged the man to his sparsely decorated bedroom, taking many breaks. It was obvious he didn't do much heavy lifting in his life. He unceremoniously plopped the man into his bed.
Donovan took a few seconds to catch his breath before inspecting his new guest. He was obviously hurt. Donovan left and came back with a bowl of water, a towel, and a roll of bandages. He went to work cleaning the man's wounds and bandaging them up. It was a bit difficult to do in gloves but he managed.
The owner of the house did finally open the door, just a crack. He peeked out with his black eyes, staring at the slumped figure for several moments. "You're not supposed to die yet." The quiet voice said from behind the door and it closed again.
The door was opened wide a few seconds later, a young silver haired man standing in the doorway. With gloved hands, he reached down and pulled Vincent into the house, promptly closing the door after him.
After some maneuvering, Donovan managed to pull Vincent upright, careful not to let the unconscious man touch his skin. Donovan half walked half dragged the man to his sparsely decorated bedroom, taking many breaks. It was obvious he didn't do much heavy lifting in his life. He unceremoniously plopped the man into his bed.
Donovan took a few seconds to catch his breath before inspecting his new guest. He was obviously hurt. Donovan left and came back with a bowl of water, a towel, and a roll of bandages. He went to work cleaning the man's wounds and bandaging them up. It was a bit difficult to do in gloves but he managed.
Jaise ran through the alleyways, avoiding the police and seeing an injured man being pulled through a door way, the same man they had seen asking for help only five minutes back. They hesitated for only a moment, before gathering their strength and starting to climb the cold brick towards the second story window. As they reached the windowsill, they slid their lockpick out of their pocket and silently undid the lock on the window. Jaise pushed the window open and climbed through it, closing it behind them quietly before silently going on a search for the man and the person who had dragged him in.
Donovan carried the water bowl out with the soiled towel, satisfied that the man would be able to heal properly. "Well, I suppose it's a good thing I'm never here to sleep in my own bed or I'd be in for an uncomfortable night..." He was quite in the habit of speaking to himself. Hey, it happens when you live alone. He stopped short and almost dropped the bowl at the shock of red hair that appeared in from of him as he saw someone trying to sneak through the house. Donovan adjusted his hold on the bowl and cleared his throat to alert the intruder of his presence. "What are you doing here?"
The woman hid her self in a cape and gown much to big for her. She had to hide from the police, she had no choice, she was much to vulnerable being a little person. A dwarf, a midget, a freak, she's been called it all. Standing only at 4'3 she scurried through the streets unnoticed. She has been alone all of her life, abandoned at a young age and constantly seeking a permanent home. She has no friends or family, even though that's all she desires. To be accepted and loved for who she, Lily is. She rounded a corner and watched someone enter a second story window. She admired their skill and stealth as they slid through the window. Suddenly she heard what seemed to be police approaching. She hid behind a broken chair leaning against the wall of the house. She strained her ears to listen to the voices coming from inside.
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