01-07-2011, 08:56 AM
Roy looked down across the streets and saw a fleck of bubblegum trotting towards him slowly. Something fluttered beneath that hot pink mass that seemed to bubble and pop all on its’ own, but his clear blue eyes were fixed on that charming shade as it approached. He found himself short of words for once in his long and rambling lifetime and he stared upon the creature that slowly approached him. She was young, a sweet looking girl that stuck out from the hordes of amassing people from around the Central City district they found themselves in at the time. “The Devil can be found in the glint of an eye,” he recalled, a saying that he had put much faith into especially over the past few weeks. That glint seemed to be there but, like all good politicians, he ignored the sentiment.
The elegant woman, if he would call her that yet, stopped in front of him and clasped her hands like a child attempting to bait their parents for another bite of candy. “Mr. Munin?” she coyly asked. He had almost made up his mind to demand she call him Roy before she finished her sentence. “I believe you.” She didn’t bat her eyelashes but she may as well have. Her posture was coy in and of itself. She lay herself before him temptingly, a mystery whether or not she had made the pose consciously or not. A gentle breeze tugged at her clothing and drug it against her flesh, a sight that Roy forced his eyes to avert from to avoid an embarrassing scene. It would be just his luck to pop one in front of a crowd of people. “Where do I sign up?” The woman bit her lip, an act that nearly flipped the silver tongued fiend’s resolve on its ear, and he quickly cleared his throat.
He stepped down from his makeshift podium and extended his right hand stiffly. He grinned that flax-oil grin that he had so perfected over years however underneath it there was a genuine smile. Such devious men became so well practiced at hiding true emotions from the objects of them. “Why hello there!” She took up his handshake daintily in that half-limp wristed manner that ladies sometimes do. This usually irritated him, the mentality that if you’re going to shake a hand it should be done firmly coming from his experiences dealing with others publically, but in this incidence he would allow that thought to sink to the bottom of his mind. “Well there isn’t much signing to be done I’m afraid…”
She smirked and cocked her head to the side as she called her hand back to her. “Oh no? Is there not a roster?”
Roy chuckled softly and shook his head. “No, no. Militia don’t usually tend to until they’re formed I suppose. At least not in this day and age.” He pulled his hand through his brown hair and looked down at the young girl. “But you are just the type of person we’re looking for to join us!” He choked on his words as they tumbled out of his mouth. He would never want to see such a flower like her be sullied by the profanity of war. That is what you have to do though, destroy something you value to save something you love. “Young, ready to really get out there and do something for the effort. That’s what the citizenry should be doing!” He shouted the last of his preaching words, pumping his fist into the air in an attempt to prime the milling strangers around him to action.
Oddly enough it certainly didn’t seem to hurt having a pretty face by him as he spouted his word. Young men and women both responded to her presence, slowly gathering around the two. Almost as though it had been rehearsed he stepped back up onto soap box and gingerly invited the young lady to follow after him. He leaned in and whispered, “I’m sorry, what was your name again?”
“Victoria.” Her words were loud enough to be heard by the crowd, arousing mild suspicion in his audience.
With a wide, white grin he waved his hand over the gathered flock. “Victoria here has seen the light in the truth! She can see the lies that are being spread by the facilitators of your death.” Strange what good a pretty face can really do you. The people seemed content to simply stand and listen now, though they weren’t a rioting mob, they at least seemed to pretend to care now. “When your husbands and wives are off on other worlds boxing with shadows, think about Victoria here. Think about this young, bright girl who is willing to give her life for a cause that she knows is just and important. This is our Earth! These are our people! When the darkness comes, where will you be?” He ended his speech by pointing with a mock pen down unto the people below him. They were sold.
Numbers had been handed out. Meeting places had been circulated and everyone involved was suddenly intensely interested in the Unified Militia of Earth. It was like some kind of hot-girl magic that nobody but the top sages of the age could understand, but damn if it didn’t work. As the last of the inspired blue collars lurked off into the ever-darkening streets of the city Roy turned to Victoria and extended his hand once again. “Oh my gosh!” He took a faux deep breath of exasperation. “Thank you SO MUCH for helping me today. I thought I might never get through to these people!”
The bright haired young woman smiled sweetly and ducked her head shyly. “Not a problem, Mr. Munin. Any time.”
“Roy, call me Roy please.” He snatched up her hand and shook it vigorously, a statement that made her giggle softly. “Well, I was wondering, would you like to come out with me again? I mean, having you on the field really changed the whole ball game. You must have some charisma, I tell you what.”
Nervously looking about she pulled a lock of hair from her face and lay it behind an ear. “Well, I-“
“C’mon!” He held his hands out wide as he bent at the knees slightly. “C’mon you have to! If you really want to help the people of Earth, this is where you belong.”
“Well, I guess I could, yeah.” She followed her shyness with a wide grin showing a few rows of brilliantly white teeth.
“Jeeze it’s like somebody made you to be beautiful.” Roy nudged his agenda forward roughly, and for a moment he was afraid he had stepped out of his bounds. Thankfully the young lady didn’t seem to mind.
“Why thank you…”
Patting around his slate grey suit he found and produced a small writing pad and a pen. He began to scribble a series of numbers and a street name. Pointing his utensil at her suddenly he locked yes. “Look. I’m going write down my address and I’ll have my man Sigfried meet you there. We can get organized after that. Sound good?”
Swinging her hips back and forth innocently she nodded. “Yeah, sure, that sounds alright. When do you want to meet me there?”
“Ah, make it eight thirty tomorrow.” He scribed down the added note and looked up to her. “That isn’t too early for you is it?”
She laughed a little. “Oh no no, my work usually has me up at silly hours anyways. I can be there.”
He nodded absent mindedly as he flipped across a few more pages in the palm pad. “I’m gonna give you a few numbers in case something happens.” He glanced up and blinked a few times. “OH? What does your job entail usually?”
The young girl glanced away. Roy picked up on it almost immediately. It was practically his job to spot when people were hiding things. “Oh, you know, it wasn’t much really. Paperwork mostly. I quit a while ago.” She didn’t return her eyes to his until after the statement was finished, a trait that rose suspect in him. He could tell she thought he was cute, or at least that she was trying to give that impression. Attraction makes people sloppy in judgment and acting. When you’re too busy trying to cover up your heart swelling you miss the little things. That fact laid reminder to keep himself in check.
“Oh?” He went on with the conversation as though nothing had odd had even occurred. “Well I guess that just means a bit more time to spend on the campaign trail then, huh?” Almost every sugar-soaked line was followed by a starched stiff grin. She bobbled her head around in airheaded agreement to his hypothetical.
Passing off the papers as he tore each from the pad he listed them out. “The address, my number, Sigfried’s number aaaaaand… my email.” He flourished the final paper into her palm and slammed it firmly into place. “Make sure you contact me if you can’t make it or if Sigfried isn’t there. He isn’t much of an early bird, sadly.”
“Is he your assistant?” Her tone was innocent but her questions were probing.
Roy shook his head. “Oh, well, I guess you could say that, yeah.” With a chuckle he added, “I really wouldn’t be alive without that guy!”
“Hm… sounds a little unreliable. Hopefully he can get his act together.”
Roy continued his laughter and nodded. “Yeah, here’s to hoping.” He grabbed her hand from her once again suddenly, a motion that made her flinch. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then. I have a few things to take care of.”
She nodded and waved. “Tomorrow.”
She stood on the corner of 7th and Hangman Street, a combination that made her cringe as a chill wind scuttled abreast her. It was already eight forty five and she had gotten there ten minutes early. She was cold and irritated. This Sigfried character was certainly living up to his name. She felt like she recognized the name for some reason. Some far off mission in some far off place. Strange, how things like names and places haunt you.
Down the street a kid cloaked in a bright red and gold hoodie sweatshirt trudged his way towards her. Before he was hardly within a reasonable talking range he shouted out, “Hey! You Victory or whatever?”
Squinting she peered over to him spitefully. “Victoria. And yes, that’s me.”
Without so much as pulling his hands from his pockets he jerked his head in towards him, heralding her to follow him. She rolled her eyes and trot a few steps to catch up as he had already turned back down the lane and began to walk.
Struggling slightly to keep up with the young boy’s quick strides she stammered out, “So you, you’re uh, Sigfried right?” She smiled in a vain attempt at friendliness. Forced as the gesture was politeness is an important part of espionage.
“Yup.” His voice was flat and listless. His hood and long brown hair obscured his face and he seemingly refused to face her.
“Well, I look forward to working with you.” She was a bit dejected. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so simple as following around a politician with smiles and inspiring words.
Sigfried grunted and turned towards the stairwell that led into the underground sub basement that was their base of operations. He stopped in front of the door and pulled a small ring of keys from his pocket, picking through them casually. He took the moment to glance out and observe the young woman. Obnoxious pink hair, probably dyed. She was wearing some kind of… what? A skirt? She looked like a damn child, though he could understand why that might appeal to Roy. The sick bastard. She didn’t look all that bright on the outside, but he could see though that crap. She was a razor’s edge away from getting what she could and bouncing town. He hated her type.
“Should be right in the other room.” He gestured with his head to a barred window door in the dark living space.
Two men sat in chairs cattycorner ot each other, one sewing some small trinket and the other reading a black leather bound book. Each glanced up to her, but one with short, gel spiked hair allowed his eyes to linger. She strode in past both and knocked on the door firmly, a metallic ring calling out. “Mr. Hunin?” she called. “Roy?”
“I’m gonna go get something to eat.” Sigfried looked to the other two. “You guys want me to bring back somethin’?”
“Double Dowwwwn.” The spike haired boy didn’t even pull his eyes from his sewing to reply.
“Dude, it’s like… nine of clock. You’re gonna die if you eat that.” Sigfried’s rebuttle was short, and the group’s loud discussion had began to distract Victoria. Is this really how revolutionaries act?
The man reading the book replied for the other. “Just let him eat his super meat-which and die. I’ll have a bagel or something. I don’t much mind really, not very hungry.”
“Aight, be right back bros.” Sigfried slammed the door after him.
No sooner had the door jammed shut than did Roy’s fly open. “Why hello there!” He greeted her warmly. She noticed that he had brought out a sleek black suit and sported a pair of large frame glasses, leather gloves seeming to aid in the illusion that he was simply a shadow. Not waiting for the young woman to reply he continued with his tirade. “So, what do you think about discussions over some hot breakfast? My treat.”
The elegant woman, if he would call her that yet, stopped in front of him and clasped her hands like a child attempting to bait their parents for another bite of candy. “Mr. Munin?” she coyly asked. He had almost made up his mind to demand she call him Roy before she finished her sentence. “I believe you.” She didn’t bat her eyelashes but she may as well have. Her posture was coy in and of itself. She lay herself before him temptingly, a mystery whether or not she had made the pose consciously or not. A gentle breeze tugged at her clothing and drug it against her flesh, a sight that Roy forced his eyes to avert from to avoid an embarrassing scene. It would be just his luck to pop one in front of a crowd of people. “Where do I sign up?” The woman bit her lip, an act that nearly flipped the silver tongued fiend’s resolve on its ear, and he quickly cleared his throat.
He stepped down from his makeshift podium and extended his right hand stiffly. He grinned that flax-oil grin that he had so perfected over years however underneath it there was a genuine smile. Such devious men became so well practiced at hiding true emotions from the objects of them. “Why hello there!” She took up his handshake daintily in that half-limp wristed manner that ladies sometimes do. This usually irritated him, the mentality that if you’re going to shake a hand it should be done firmly coming from his experiences dealing with others publically, but in this incidence he would allow that thought to sink to the bottom of his mind. “Well there isn’t much signing to be done I’m afraid…”
She smirked and cocked her head to the side as she called her hand back to her. “Oh no? Is there not a roster?”
Roy chuckled softly and shook his head. “No, no. Militia don’t usually tend to until they’re formed I suppose. At least not in this day and age.” He pulled his hand through his brown hair and looked down at the young girl. “But you are just the type of person we’re looking for to join us!” He choked on his words as they tumbled out of his mouth. He would never want to see such a flower like her be sullied by the profanity of war. That is what you have to do though, destroy something you value to save something you love. “Young, ready to really get out there and do something for the effort. That’s what the citizenry should be doing!” He shouted the last of his preaching words, pumping his fist into the air in an attempt to prime the milling strangers around him to action.
Oddly enough it certainly didn’t seem to hurt having a pretty face by him as he spouted his word. Young men and women both responded to her presence, slowly gathering around the two. Almost as though it had been rehearsed he stepped back up onto soap box and gingerly invited the young lady to follow after him. He leaned in and whispered, “I’m sorry, what was your name again?”
“Victoria.” Her words were loud enough to be heard by the crowd, arousing mild suspicion in his audience.
With a wide, white grin he waved his hand over the gathered flock. “Victoria here has seen the light in the truth! She can see the lies that are being spread by the facilitators of your death.” Strange what good a pretty face can really do you. The people seemed content to simply stand and listen now, though they weren’t a rioting mob, they at least seemed to pretend to care now. “When your husbands and wives are off on other worlds boxing with shadows, think about Victoria here. Think about this young, bright girl who is willing to give her life for a cause that she knows is just and important. This is our Earth! These are our people! When the darkness comes, where will you be?” He ended his speech by pointing with a mock pen down unto the people below him. They were sold.
--=~*/| o |\*~=--
Numbers had been handed out. Meeting places had been circulated and everyone involved was suddenly intensely interested in the Unified Militia of Earth. It was like some kind of hot-girl magic that nobody but the top sages of the age could understand, but damn if it didn’t work. As the last of the inspired blue collars lurked off into the ever-darkening streets of the city Roy turned to Victoria and extended his hand once again. “Oh my gosh!” He took a faux deep breath of exasperation. “Thank you SO MUCH for helping me today. I thought I might never get through to these people!”
The bright haired young woman smiled sweetly and ducked her head shyly. “Not a problem, Mr. Munin. Any time.”
“Roy, call me Roy please.” He snatched up her hand and shook it vigorously, a statement that made her giggle softly. “Well, I was wondering, would you like to come out with me again? I mean, having you on the field really changed the whole ball game. You must have some charisma, I tell you what.”
Nervously looking about she pulled a lock of hair from her face and lay it behind an ear. “Well, I-“
“C’mon!” He held his hands out wide as he bent at the knees slightly. “C’mon you have to! If you really want to help the people of Earth, this is where you belong.”
“Well, I guess I could, yeah.” She followed her shyness with a wide grin showing a few rows of brilliantly white teeth.
“Jeeze it’s like somebody made you to be beautiful.” Roy nudged his agenda forward roughly, and for a moment he was afraid he had stepped out of his bounds. Thankfully the young lady didn’t seem to mind.
“Why thank you…”
Patting around his slate grey suit he found and produced a small writing pad and a pen. He began to scribble a series of numbers and a street name. Pointing his utensil at her suddenly he locked yes. “Look. I’m going write down my address and I’ll have my man Sigfried meet you there. We can get organized after that. Sound good?”
Swinging her hips back and forth innocently she nodded. “Yeah, sure, that sounds alright. When do you want to meet me there?”
“Ah, make it eight thirty tomorrow.” He scribed down the added note and looked up to her. “That isn’t too early for you is it?”
She laughed a little. “Oh no no, my work usually has me up at silly hours anyways. I can be there.”
He nodded absent mindedly as he flipped across a few more pages in the palm pad. “I’m gonna give you a few numbers in case something happens.” He glanced up and blinked a few times. “OH? What does your job entail usually?”
The young girl glanced away. Roy picked up on it almost immediately. It was practically his job to spot when people were hiding things. “Oh, you know, it wasn’t much really. Paperwork mostly. I quit a while ago.” She didn’t return her eyes to his until after the statement was finished, a trait that rose suspect in him. He could tell she thought he was cute, or at least that she was trying to give that impression. Attraction makes people sloppy in judgment and acting. When you’re too busy trying to cover up your heart swelling you miss the little things. That fact laid reminder to keep himself in check.
“Oh?” He went on with the conversation as though nothing had odd had even occurred. “Well I guess that just means a bit more time to spend on the campaign trail then, huh?” Almost every sugar-soaked line was followed by a starched stiff grin. She bobbled her head around in airheaded agreement to his hypothetical.
Passing off the papers as he tore each from the pad he listed them out. “The address, my number, Sigfried’s number aaaaaand… my email.” He flourished the final paper into her palm and slammed it firmly into place. “Make sure you contact me if you can’t make it or if Sigfried isn’t there. He isn’t much of an early bird, sadly.”
“Is he your assistant?” Her tone was innocent but her questions were probing.
Roy shook his head. “Oh, well, I guess you could say that, yeah.” With a chuckle he added, “I really wouldn’t be alive without that guy!”
“Hm… sounds a little unreliable. Hopefully he can get his act together.”
Roy continued his laughter and nodded. “Yeah, here’s to hoping.” He grabbed her hand from her once again suddenly, a motion that made her flinch. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then. I have a few things to take care of.”
She nodded and waved. “Tomorrow.”
--=~*/| o |\*~=--
She stood on the corner of 7th and Hangman Street, a combination that made her cringe as a chill wind scuttled abreast her. It was already eight forty five and she had gotten there ten minutes early. She was cold and irritated. This Sigfried character was certainly living up to his name. She felt like she recognized the name for some reason. Some far off mission in some far off place. Strange, how things like names and places haunt you.
Down the street a kid cloaked in a bright red and gold hoodie sweatshirt trudged his way towards her. Before he was hardly within a reasonable talking range he shouted out, “Hey! You Victory or whatever?”
Squinting she peered over to him spitefully. “Victoria. And yes, that’s me.”
Without so much as pulling his hands from his pockets he jerked his head in towards him, heralding her to follow him. She rolled her eyes and trot a few steps to catch up as he had already turned back down the lane and began to walk.
Struggling slightly to keep up with the young boy’s quick strides she stammered out, “So you, you’re uh, Sigfried right?” She smiled in a vain attempt at friendliness. Forced as the gesture was politeness is an important part of espionage.
“Yup.” His voice was flat and listless. His hood and long brown hair obscured his face and he seemingly refused to face her.
“Well, I look forward to working with you.” She was a bit dejected. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so simple as following around a politician with smiles and inspiring words.
Sigfried grunted and turned towards the stairwell that led into the underground sub basement that was their base of operations. He stopped in front of the door and pulled a small ring of keys from his pocket, picking through them casually. He took the moment to glance out and observe the young woman. Obnoxious pink hair, probably dyed. She was wearing some kind of… what? A skirt? She looked like a damn child, though he could understand why that might appeal to Roy. The sick bastard. She didn’t look all that bright on the outside, but he could see though that crap. She was a razor’s edge away from getting what she could and bouncing town. He hated her type.
“Should be right in the other room.” He gestured with his head to a barred window door in the dark living space.
Two men sat in chairs cattycorner ot each other, one sewing some small trinket and the other reading a black leather bound book. Each glanced up to her, but one with short, gel spiked hair allowed his eyes to linger. She strode in past both and knocked on the door firmly, a metallic ring calling out. “Mr. Hunin?” she called. “Roy?”
“I’m gonna go get something to eat.” Sigfried looked to the other two. “You guys want me to bring back somethin’?”
“Double Dowwwwn.” The spike haired boy didn’t even pull his eyes from his sewing to reply.
“Dude, it’s like… nine of clock. You’re gonna die if you eat that.” Sigfried’s rebuttle was short, and the group’s loud discussion had began to distract Victoria. Is this really how revolutionaries act?
The man reading the book replied for the other. “Just let him eat his super meat-which and die. I’ll have a bagel or something. I don’t much mind really, not very hungry.”
“Aight, be right back bros.” Sigfried slammed the door after him.
No sooner had the door jammed shut than did Roy’s fly open. “Why hello there!” He greeted her warmly. She noticed that he had brought out a sleek black suit and sported a pair of large frame glasses, leather gloves seeming to aid in the illusion that he was simply a shadow. Not waiting for the young woman to reply he continued with his tirade. “So, what do you think about discussions over some hot breakfast? My treat.”
[SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]