Current Time Line
The rules
1. Don't be a dick, simple enough yeah?
2. Follow the current plot and don't divert too much, there are set story lines for each phase so if you need a personal story done or have an idea message me and i'll make space to do that one next. :)
3. You're character is NOT the main character, everyone is of equal importance so be conscious of what they say. Mouthing off and being all bad-ass is funny but will most likely get you killed.
4. Never leave a man behind! People should aim to post at least once a day and never more than two posts if a person is being inactive. However, though we'll wait a while we won't wait forever so if you disappear for a week I'll make your character vanish for a bit so we can carry on.
Why did you come here? Lain may be a city of wealth and beauty but its wealth and beauty are created on the tops of many corpses, new and old. The large city seemed endless and as you walked in and you couldn't help but feel your eyes drawn to the large spiraling tower in the distance, you turn to one of the natives and ask what it is. "That is Lazarus' factory, in the Industrial District..you'd have to drag me kicking and screaming to go near it." A light warning, but a warning none the less. If you already live here then you know of the current troubles plaguing the town, the sick, homeless, elderly and under classes are vanishing off the streets. One day their there and the next their gone, like they where pulled into the ether. As you come into the main market district you notice some graffiti on a near by sign, it reads 'Life in bottled form'. Something twinges in your stomach as if telling you to leave and just get out, get out while you can, but curiosity plucks at your mind and forces you forwards. You did say you wanted adventure, after all.
"Erh, so you'd recommend crispy apples as opposed to the sweet ones?" Oliver, who had found the market district by mistake, was currently trying to determine which was the best bag of apples to buy. He did like sweet things, but the plumb stall woman seemed adamant that the crispy Queen's were far better in texture and taste. Raising a spindly finger to his lip, the young man began to nibble his nail, vexed by such a tough decision. Having wandered for days aimlessly, anyone would think it blind luck that such a naive person could find Lain - nay stumble into it. The journey has provoked a few bouts of fear in Oliver, okay maybe a lot of fear, but now, finally among people, he felt at peace. "Okay, OKAY!" Dropping his hands and digging in his pocket, the raven haired made brandished some coins and placed them on the counter. "I'll take three of each, no one should have to pick between apples," he chuckled merrily, his goofy smile earning a raised glance from the woman who just placed said apples in a bag and shoved them into his chest. "Oh, well, thanks." Oliver backed off, a little unaccustomed to such a hostile merchant. "Have a good day," he chirped before spinning on his heels and marching off. The lady rolled her eyes at his behaviour and muttered something about him being 'dead by dawn tomorrow'.
Oliver strode purposefully down the street, his hand dipped into the bag and rummaging for one of the Queen's apples the lady had so raved about. Turning a corner too quickly, he walked straight into a mass of people and was promptly knocked to the ground. "Duh," a grunt escaped his mouth as his less than graceful body flailed madly on the floor, the bag of apples spilling out over the pavement and rolling away.
The people seemed to be flocking around a large wooden stage not too far in the distance, murmuring and muttering about things that couldn't quite be made out. Upon the stage stood a proud man dressed entirely in black, his grey hair swept out of his weathered face in a formal fashion. The strange man was flanked by equally proud figures, dressed just as smarty though adorning a strange array of masks. One figure, wearing a mask that resembled a dears head, moved towards the man at the centre and whispered something in his ear. A nod came from the grey haired man who suddenly held a hand to shush the crowd. A smile crossed his face before he spoke, "I trust everyone is having a good day?" Lazarus' voice carried like a bitter breeze, though it seemed to drip like honey into the ears.
A rolling apple tapped onto the toes of a messy haired, bizarre looking man. His expression of focused calculation and hatred towards the display on stage was immediately whipped away. He looked down, spied an apple and happily reached down to retrive it. As he crouched, he couldn't help noticing a man squirming on the ground. Figuring he was the owner of the apple but being too hungry to return it, Burnside stashed the fruit in an inner pocket of his jacket and straightened up. Gently he pushed a few people out of his way, "Pardon me," he said, wading his way over to Oliver. Reaching him he held out his arm. "Need a hand, kid?"
Oliver remained flat out on the ground for a good few seconds before he noticed a stranger approaching him. Pushing upwards, he sorted out his now ruffled waist coat and tried to straighten his shirt, before attempting to pat down his dark hair which looked far to kept for someone who looked to have no money. Grabbing the bag in despair, Oliver mourned the loss of his apples and cradled the sole remaining sweet one as if it were his child. "My poor apples," he murmured solemnly. Finally looking up at Burnside from his kneeling position, he smiled and took the hand gently. "Thank you, Sir." As he rose from the ground, Oliver blinked his miss-match coloured eyes as he took the odd man's look in. Was he in the circus or something?
"Wow, you're uh..." Burnside let his hand fall. "Tall." Something about this kid seemed familiar. Not wanting to seem too obvious he said, "The name's Ulysses Heraldo Burnside. And you are?"
Someone was talking to him, someone was making conversation! Oliver looked elated beyond belief and clasped Burnside's hands with his own, holding them rather dramatically and waving them from side to side. "Oliver, my name is Oliver, it's so good to meet you." His face practically screamed enthusiasm, as if he'd never had a friend before. The young man went to say something else when a loud gunshot fired into the air, causing him to jump and mile.
On the stage, Lazarus was smiling broadly as he held the smoking gun in the air. "Lain's Home for the Poor is now, OPEN!" The gun wielding arm fell back down to his side and he offered up the crowd a gentle laugh. His men behind him clapped, enthusing the crowd into also doing it. It was yet another ploy for the people of Lain that played well for Lazarus on many accounts. He gained good reputation in the public eye whilst also creating a good source of bodies, no doubt the place would be swarming with the homeless by nightfall. Turning his attention away from the people, he nodded to an odd dressed man in a long red coat and bird mask - said man strode forwards and began to dramatically address the crowd about an orphanage opening up soon as well, if they acquired enough charitable donations.
"Oh boy, you're friendly," said Burnside, a little startled. The gun shot caused him to yelp and jump towards Oliver, the two of them looking like total sissies, holding hands and flinching. Burnside listend for a moment before saying, "Oliver. You look a bit lost. How would you like a free tour of Lain?"
From up on a roof, a lone figure slid down the side of a building, landing in a crouch in an alleyway. He stood without bothering to dust himself off or straighten his clothes, not that he needed to. The cloth around half of his face obscured his mouth, but the crinkle of his eyes made him appear as if he was smiling. The black clad man moved towards the crowd, but not into it. Instead he stuck to the shadows of the alleyway, leaning casually against a wall with his arms crossed. He had his orders, his target was picked, now all he had to do was watch.
"You'd give me a free tour?" Oliver's face looked like a puppy who'd just been offered a treat, eyes big and glistening, his mouth slightly open. How lucky was he to met this guy, Burnside, or whatever? Giddy with excitement, he caught sight of a man clad entirely in black out of the corner of his eye and turned to stare. Oliver paid the man a little more attention than was probably polite or normal, simply because he'd never seen someone dressed in such a manner, and thus quickly looked off to the sky as if to pretend he hadn't been staring. This place was full of interesting people but like his Daddy had taught him, 'it was rude to stare at someone just because there were different'. "A tour would be awesome, no, BETTER THAN AWESOME," Oliver paused for a breath and then continued. "In fact, maybe you could help me find someone," he rummaged around in his backpack as he spoke, searching for something. "See, this random person asked me to find someone and I figured it would make for an interesting story when I got him," Oliver let out a 'viola' as he found the bounty sheet, the name written on it being the same person Drent was after, the same name that all bounty hunters were currently after - though Oliver no doubt had no idea of the danger of it.
Burnside glanced over where Oliver was looking. This kid was a spaz, and coming from a spaz, that was spazzy. "Wow!" Burnside cried when Oliver whipped the paper out for all to see. Burnside grabbed his hand and pushed the paper down. "Well that sounds exciting. Follow me and we can get this tour started..." Burnside threw a quick nervous look around before he grabbed onto Oliver's sleeve and pulled him out of the crowd.
Bright red eyes followed the pair. Drent need not get to close to stay behind them. Here was a hunter who clearly had no idea how to keep his trap shut. He would be killed easily. Stalking around the building, Drent moved with the shadows, quickly disappearing from view. His single goal, his only goal since taking on the bounty, was to finish the job and move on. But if there was a hunter so easily flaunting the bounty, Drent needed to be sure he was silenced. Focusing the entirety of his tracking skills on that hunter, he took a less direct route to follow, keeping out of most of the streets as he did so.
Lazarus finished addressing the people and then turned to leave, he paused besides his most loyal subjects and spoke in a hushed voice only they could hear. "You saw them, correct?" A slow nod from the masked figures assured him of it. "Find them and bring them to me, and 'deal' with anyone else who gets in the way, we can't afford interference at this stage, especially from rouge agents and pesky assassins." There wasn't an ounce of compassion in his voice as he issued the death sentence, nor was there any hesitation in the response of his disciples who backed off and vanished. Ready to carry out their kindly masters request. Lazarus smirked and sighed deeply -
Oh, Burnside, you silly little creature. And with that he headed back to his manor.
"Is that a yes-" Oliver was grabbed and then dragged away from the crowd, hair whipping out of his face as they soared down some alley ways. Oblivious to the nerves of his current companion and the fact he was now being hunted, the over-zealous man child just squealed with glee as they went on a little adventure. "If possibly, I'd likes to see the Industrial District as well, and maybe some land marks." Oliver tried to catch Burnside's attention, but as they entered down a rather dark alley way he tripped on his own feet and toppled to the floor. For the second time in a day, Oliver was greeted with the coldness of pavement, only this time it was his face connecting with it. "Erh," he grumbled, practically a sitting duck for Drent who had somewhat misread the situation, though just-fully so.
Burnside yanked him up rather roughly and looked around. "Ok kid, I'm going to be very veeeery blunt with you, so try not to pee your pants," Burnside started. "There are people out there whose soul job is to kill people on the mission you just showed me. They have a list of people to bump off and darling, you are on it."
Drent was pressed up to the edge of a building at the end of the alley, completely faded into the shadows so he wouldn't be seen as he listened. Oh, this man was truly an idiot for waving that paper around. No one knew who Drent was apart from being a skilled hunter. So skilled he had never once been seen. Now he was triply glad that his face was not known by anyone. It was too dangerous to think about revealing himself now, so he stayed put.
"Pee my pants, about what?" Oliver let out a yelp as he was ripped to his feet harshly, stumbling once again before catching himself. He listened intently, his expression going from an interested smile to a completely vacant grin. "Wait what?" Face now frozen, he sort of tilted his head in confusion. "K-k-k-k-k-k-,
" Oliver was no apparently having a fit, unable to rationalise what had just been told to him. "Kill, as in....murder, murder me, SOMEONE WANT'S TO MURDER ME?" Freak out time commenced and Oliver flung his arms in the air and backed off into a near by wall.
"Wow wow wow, kid. Calm down! The last thing you need to do is make a spectacle of yourself! You're going to be ok. I- am going to save you," said Burnside dramatically, arching his back and placing his hands on his hips in a heroic posture.
Drent would have been fine had the kid not backed right into him. He stayed perfectly still, not even a sound leaving him, hoping that the kid would disregard the warmth behind him. Drent knew he was perfectly invisible in the shade, so he stilled his breathing and waited.
Little thought went through Oliver's mind as the situation was explained to him, hence it didn't click straight away that he had just backed up into another person - an extremely dangerous person. As Burnside struck into his heroic pose, it felt as if the wave of cold just washed over him. "You're going to, save me?" The man was like this beacon of hope now and Oliver couldn't help by begin shaking a little, possible near tears. "But I don't understand-," it was then, with the throwing back of an arm, he knocked Drent in the chest. Freezing on the spot, it dawned on him that the wall he was leaning against was oddly warm. Slowly turning his head, Oliver's eyes grew wider and wider before saw the assassin. "I-."
Burnside drew and cocked his gun so fast it was like the thing had just appeared in his hand. He grabbed the front of Oliver's shirt and yanked him forwards. "Well," said Burnside, ashamed he had not noticed the person earlier. "This is sorta embarrassing..."
The elbow had connected with Drent's chest and caused him to bow away. But even that small movement cancelled his fading ability. He bit his lip under the scarf and moved with graceful efficiency of someone who knew his art. One moment Oliver was yanked forward, the next he had a dagger pressed to his throat although his assailant had yet to utter a single noise. Drent watched Burnside carefully as his blade tickled the other hunters windpipe. He didn't need this today.
Oliver froze on the spot as he felt the blade pressed against his skin, the prickle an entirely new experience and one he could have done without actually experiencing. Burnside seemed to have noted the assailant far before he did and was now aiming a gun, a gun he hadn't even seen him draw. Now fixed between two men wielding weapons, Oliver let out a small whimper, unable to talk or react.
"How much do you want to bet I can shoot before you slice?" Burnside asked.
The knife pressed tighter, and Drent figured even this gun wielding idiot would realize two things. First, were he shot, the knife would slice regardless. The angle if Drent's arm guaranteed that. Secondly, gunfire would draw attention from outside sources. Reaching one free arm into Oliver's bag, he pulled out the bounty notice and held it in front of Burnside's face, his eyes narrowing slightly. Although speaking would be easier, Drent had a vow of silence enacted and would not lose his abilities because someone threatened him first.
"Shoot, slice," Oliver found his voice as Drent pushed the knife in further. He twitched randomly as the mysterious man reached into his bag and brought out the flyer he had shown Burnside not 5 minutes ago - his pale paled in retaliation. "That thing, it's not mine, I PROMISE!" Oliver's voice was more frantic than it was loud. "I swear, this man gave it to me, I don't know what it means, please...please don't kill me, please." His body began to go weak at the knees and he thought he might collapse, had Drent not got him in an iron like grip.
"I've seen it, jack ass!" Burnside snapped. "He's harmless. He's got as much hope finding the heir as a pig has catching its tail. Just let me get him out of here. This is a waste of your time. Plus, I'll blow your face off."
Drent actually rolled his eyes as he shoved the paper back into Oliver's bag. How dense could one person be? He ignored Oliver's raving as he tried to figure out how to inform this fool of what he meant. Killing Drent would be the most logical course of action, and the hunter knew that. Not that people hadn't been attempting that his whole life. And since he had been drawn on first, Drent felt in his right should he kill Burnside at least. The man needed to learn to not threaten assassins. Finally after a moment, which was really only a few seconds, Drent pulled out a folded piece of paper and pressed the bounty notice into Oliver's hand to unfold, gesturing at him to show the other man, knife still held firmly at his throat.
"You want, want me to show him this?" Oliver was sweating, eyes big and fearful as he cast the folded up paper a look. Fumbling madly, he somehow managed to unfold it and show it for Burnside to see. Closing his eyes, the young man let out another whimper. "P-please don't kill me."
"He can read it to me," said Burnside, not wanting to take his eyes off this guy.
As if his complete silence wasn't clue enough that he didn't talk, Drent felt like he was playing charades with the village idiot. He pressed himself close to Oliver and lifted a long chain around his neck, holding the metal pendant in front of Oliver's eyes. Even an idiot would understand the simple engraved words. "I am mute." That's all it said and all he needed it to say. And he realized how ridiculously long this simple explanation was taking. All because the idiot had pointed a gun at him without prior provocation.
"He doesn't talk, he's mute!" Oliver screamed at Burnside, as if not doing so would result in Drent slitting his throat out of annoyance. "Just please, please read the note," he began to sob and beg again, eyes filling up. Oliver noted Burnside's eyes not leaving Drent and theorized that he must have meant for himself to read it, however, he hardly had the chance to turn the page before someone else got involved.
"This is toooooooooo cute," a rather up-beat and shrill voice from the opening to the alley called. A figure stood with its arms crossed and a smirk concealed behind a rather dramatic birds mask - Birdy, as he was affectionately known, hadn't honestly thought it would be this easy to track them down. "I have to admit, you're making my job easier," skipping forwards as he chanted, he revealed himself to be a rather diminutive figure clad in a red coat lined with over the top black feathers. "It's been awhile, my lovely Burny," his voice went playful as he addressed Burnside.
Burnside couldn't help rolling his eyes at Drent's action which made it clear he obviously misunderstood him. Before Burnside could yell he wanted the boy to read, the boy started screaming, causing Burnside to cringe. This situation was tight, but considering the mystery guy didn't kill Oliver when he had the chance, Burnside figured Drent had other motivations. However, Oliver yelling may attract some people who were more transparent. Upon hearing Bird, it became abundantly obvious... it had. "Really?!" Burnside cried out at God.
Drent could have laughed if he had been allowed. Instead he eyed the newcomer in the alley with all the with a little more annoyance in his eyes than he would normally show. Not that they could see his pursed lips. This was just perfect. A quick supply run, he figured. Now this. But Drent had gotten out of tighter jams before. He tapped Oliver on the shoulder with his pendant and wrapped a thin arm around the tall man's chest. If things went right, he could at least escape and maybe get Oliver out as the other two reacquainted with one another.
"Hey!" Burnside snapped at Drent. "Let him go now or I'll shoot you in the face. I have more important places to point my gun!"
As the new person showed up, Oliver thought for a second he might have been some sort of guard who could help them other. However, when the man began to stagger towards them with little worry, he figured the man might have been an evil accomplice of Drent's. The situation was well over his head and he'd lost count of how many weapons that had been drawn, so as the arm tightened around him, he unconsciously recoiled a little into Drent.
"Now, now, Gentlemen," Birdy clapped his hands as Burnside snapped at Drent and continued to aim his gun. With one sweep, the man flung his swagger stick forwards like it were his own pistol and aimed it at them, waving it between the three people. "I've got my orders to not harm you three, but I'm sure he would understand if I brought you back missing a limb or two." He chuckled at the look on Oliver's face who practically went the colour of paper as he heard the part about dismemberment. Burnside and Drent, however, didn't seem too fussed. "It's been a long time coming, Burny," Birdy's face turned on the man, and though it was hidden you could tell he was smiling. "I'm gonna enjoy chaining you up for the Boss, you," he regarded Drent, "I don't know why he want's you but I guess we'll find OUT!" Laughing the last word loudly, Birdy slammed the cane on the ground causing a shockwave of force to erupt towards the trio.
Drent moved with more speed than should have been possible. Taking a tight hold of Oliver, he twisted and propelled the other man deeper into the alley and towards the corner of the building. If he was any sort of intelligent he would dive for cover. Almost in the same movement, he threw himself back in the same direction, away from the shock wave and towards cover. He barely cared if Burnside was captured. The man kept talking about shooting him in the face, and that wasn't a good way to make new friends.
Burnside was about to send a warning shot grazing Drent's face but at the moment, Birdy was the bigger problem. It was clear Drent wasn't going to kill the guy, and it would be easy enough to follow Oliver's hollering if they became separated. His free hand pulled a bullet out of his belt and in one smooth motion he popped the barrel open and flicked his fingers to change bullets. The barrel spun back into place just as the shock wave blasted at him. He jumped and kicked off a trash can, leaping so high into the air the shock wave barely caught his legs, which only aided him in a tumble. Once he stabilized he aimed his gun and shot. If Birdy was unable to evade the shot, the bullet would erupt into a mist on impact.
There was a loud, and very girly, scream as Oliver felt what he thought was thunder rip through the ground. Suddenly he was air born and being thrown around like a doll by his 'captor', out of harms way and tossed further down the alley. Hitting the floor less then gracefully, the lanky man scurried over to the nearest corner and hid in it. Oliver winced as he raised a hand to his bruised arm, which he had landed on, not accustomed to the pain and slightly confused by it. He couldn't make heads nor tails of what was going on, so stayed down and out the way.
"I KNOW YOU, BURNSIDE!" Birdy howled with laughter and avoided the gun shot, jumping through the after-tremors of his attack and watching as his old comrade sailed through the air. Swagger stick now raised, he slashed the air again and sent what looked like a swishing C-shape of force hurtling the man's way. Focusing entirely on Burnside, he assumed Drent and Oliver had been thrown off somewhere.
As soon as the shock wave dissipated, Drent moved again. He snatched Oliver's arm and made a shushing motion with his hand as he pulled the man swiftly around a corner. If they got far enough away, Drent could shield them both from discovery. As it stood now, he sincerely hoped that the other two were occupied with one another.
Burnside's eyes went wide as he realized the limitation of his options. Unable to leap over the blast in his position all he could do was take it. Folding his forearms in front of his head and pulling down his chin, the blast rippled through him and sent him flying back, thudding and tumbling painfully on the ground. Letting out a painful cough, he lifted his gun and let off several bullets. Even if they didn't hit Birdy, they would flood his position with gas.
"What, NO!" Oliver spun around as Drent grabbed him, bringing the arm that the assassin had tried to grab up and into his face, his bony elbow connecting quite sharply with the man's features. Bolting forwards, he saw Burnside hit the ground and instantly ran for the man. The chaos of battle was clouding his judgement, but he found himself somehow dodging random bits of rubble that fell from the near by walls - breaking due to Birdy's first attack. "Burnside?" Oliver dropped to his knees by the older man, worry on his face.
Birdy chuckled as he saw his attack hit simply evaded the bullets, though as they exploded his laugh went from haughty to haggard and raspy. Not expecting the gas, he backed off and tried to us his sleeve to swat it away. He felt it whip under his mask and burn at his eyes and knew instantly he'd need to get to higher ground. Backing off, the man caught onto a fire escape and ascended onto the currently crumbling building above. Intending to try and find them once the smoke cleared, he spotted Drent outside of the smoke and narrowed his eyes.
Blocking the elbow from hitting him in the nose, Drent actually rolled his eyes as the man ran into the line of fire. Of all the stupid things to do, he moved towards the person who was threatening them all. Drent simply shook his head and watched the smoke. They were all idiots, and he wanted nothing to do with them. Instead he quickly rounded a corner, out of sight, and faded into the shadow as best he could while on the move. He needed to get away from these people and come back at a different angle.
"What are you doing?!" Burnside cried when Oliver dropped beside him. Standing up quickly though a tad unstably, he put one hand on Oliver's back and one on his upper arm and ran away with the cover of the gas.
Oliver coughed as he huffed in a bit of the gas and was promptly dragged away by Burnside, who seemed less injured than he had thought. Who were these people? He'd never seen people move so quickly or show such interesting powers. It was both scary and fascinating. As they got under cover, he turned to his companion and finally asked the question. "Who are these people? And..how..how does he? Just, is he magic?"
Spotting Drent, Birdy trotted over the roof top and began to hunt after him, feet hammering down as he did so and really not hiding his attacks well. The man didn't really think on his feet and tended to just charge straight in.. "HA, running are we," he sent another slash of energy at the assassin as he barked his taunt.
The energy hit Drent around the stomach, causing him to fold slightly as he hit his back and rolled completely over onto his feet in a crouch. He was going to have a mark later, but he ignored it for now. His hand shot out, expert tracing Birdy's movements and flinging a dart at the man. His only hope was that he distracted the man enough so he could fade into the black. A second dart joined the first with another wrist flick, Drent aiming carefully, the first leading his target, the second aimed in case he dodged backwards.
Burnside ran with Oliver a short while and hid in a dark corner of an ally. Panting, he sniffed his nose only to hear and odd watery sound. He touched his wrist to his face and pulled it away to find blood. "Aw, bastard popped a vessel," he lamented. "You have anything I could wad up and stick in my nose?"
As expected by Drent, Birdy avoided the first dart but pretty much jumped straight into the second one. It struck him in the shoulder and caused him to topple backwards and stumble off the building. He free fell, hitting a sign on the way down, and then slammed onto the floor with a groan. Groans were followed by hacking coughs, his illness so did love to strike at the worst possible moments. Well, worst for him but good for the people he was attacking.
Turning as he heard a a whack, Oliver saw Birdy fall from the building but not where he landed. "Is he dead?" Avoiding Burnside's question for now, he then turned back and rummaged around in his bag. "Will-will some tissue do?" Holding out the white fabric, he looked a little uncertain as to whether he'd just helped or said something seriously stupid.
Burnside quickly took the tissue, ripped it, twirled it between his fingers and put it in his nostril. "Ok, so if you haven't figured it out by now, we need to get out of this city, FAST. Stick close and keep up," Burnside instructed and was off again, dragging Oliver with him. As for his thoughts on Birdy, he didn't know and didn't care. All he knew was this place was crawling with baddies and one could turn invisible.
"What about that assassin guy?" Oliver let himself get dragged, his gangly legs stumbling over one another as Burnside led them to safety. He really had nothing to add to the situation and was pretty okay with being rescued. "M-maybe we should alert the guards, that guy assaulted us!" His eyes kept flitting around as if paranoid they were being followed. As the duo rounded a certain corner they came face to face with a small under pass crowded with some homeless people, Oliver visibly cringed and backed up. "Okay, maybe we shouldn't go in there."
Burnside stopped, scanning over the figures, trying to spy any weapons. Letting go of Oliver's arm Burnside sighed and looked up at him. "When we're out of here, I can explain this in more depth, but this entire city is... bad. Especially the people in charge and that includes the guards."
"But how can that be, isn't this place under the jurisdiction of the Government?" Oliver really had know clue as to how things worked, in his head, all the major cities were run by the Council and their little group, thus, if they were good then so should those they watched over be. He looked at the homeless people and then moved closer to Burnside. "I'm sure if we sit down and explain to them that we have nothing to do with this note, they'll let us go," he chirped adamantly. He was truly delusional as to how the city worked, even if Lazarus believed Oliver when he said he didn't know about the bounty, he would just have him killed for time wasting and tossed into his little experiment.
"You poor poor child," Burnside said as he decided to quickly go through the underpass. "Once we're outside city limits, I swear I'll explain everything. Right now, I need you to be quiet. Can you do that for me? Please?" He kept his hand in his jacket on his gun. He didn't trust anyone in this place.
"I-," Oliver was about to say something else when Burnside asked him to be quiet, his features saddened a little and he looked down like a frightened little puppy. With a simple nod, he agreed to the wiser man's terms and intended to follow his lead through whatever alley they had to pass through in order to escape. Oliver did jump a little however as a homeless woman approached them, itchy fingers out and fingering the air in search of some coin from the two. "Please kind sirs," the homeless woman's voice was brittle and hoarse from lack of use. "All I needs if a few coins and I can leave this city, we be dropping like flies 'round here and my old body can't cope with one more sleepless night waitin to be picked off." As she finished, she stared at Oliver who looked curious as to why the homeless were 'dropping' or whatever she had said.
Burnside looked extremely annoyed. He didn't have time for this, however his new found morals didn't let him just walk away. "Wait a second..." he grumbled and dug his hand into his pocket. Pulling out some coins, he handed them to the lady.
The woman lapped up the money for her hands, bowing as she did so. "Thank you kind sirs," she made to scoot away when Oliver raised a timid hand. "What's happening to the homeless people?" He questions, the old woman just looked shocked, eyes staring at Burnside and then to Oliver. It was then she locked contact on the man and finally look in Burnside's face. "'Ere, do I know you?"
"I don't think so. We've gotta get going. Stay safe!" Burnside said quickly then looked at Oliver. "Come on." He started through the underpass, hoping the woman would drop it.
"No, no, I know you," the woman's tone went from vexed to looking a little scared, dropping the coins he had just given her. "You," she sounded crazy as she backed off and stumbled away. "You!" And with that, the woman turned and ran off down the street. Oliver watched her got and then looked to Burnside. "What was that about?"
"Probably crazy?" Burnside guessed. Sure people had reason to fear him, but in his heyday he wore a mask. Then again... it was possible she had seen him once. His past wasn't something Oliver needed to know about. "I honestly have no idea. Do you have money for train tickets?"
"Yes, but I sort of wanted to see the rest of the city," Oliver stood there, speaking in all his naive glory, of touring the rest of the capitol after what had just transpired. Standing now, amoung the homeless, sick and crippled, the man looked more the child than ever.
Burnside stared at him his mouth slightly agape. "......... Seriously?" he asked, hunching slightly with frustration.
"Did, did I just say something really stupid?" Oliver had that awkward look about him and nearly jumped a mile as a train horn blasted in the distance - signalling the last call for possible passengers. "Oh, ermm, well, erhhh..let's get on the train." He waddled around like a headless chicken as he tried to suss out the quick route to the train station. Oliver didn't even know where the train went, not that it mattered in this instance since a train out of Lain lead to all places, many cross over opportunities and destinations.
Burnside grabbed Oliver's arm and darted off, knowing the exact route to go. "Try not to trip!" he called behind him as he dragged Oliver along.
Drent ran, not stopping to check on the man he had hit. The poison on the dart wouldn't kill him, but he would be groggy and have one hell of a headache. Drent's main concern was getting out of the city. He ran as quickly and quietly as he could towards the place he had snuck in. Supplies be damned, he wasn't going to die for them.
FoalBerne stepped from an alley way, looking around as he strolled from around the corner. A soft jingle with each step emitted from the long tassles of his sheathed weapon, each tipped with a richly coloured emerald feather. His face was covered with a mask that stopped between his lower lip and his chin, from which a cleanly kempt short beard shown. A pipe stuck out from under it as well as the emerald smoke that swirled upward around his wide brimmed hat started to dissapate. He looked up as he heard someone running in his direction, seeing a young man moving very quickly towards him. His right arm unfolded from behind his back as he tilted his head slightly, wondering why this man was in such a hurry.
Drent didn't pause to look at the man. As soon as he spotted him, Drent turned down another alleyway, avoiding any and everyone as he approached the city wall. He would scale it as he had when he entered the city. Drent didn't think twice about escaping and didn't bother thinking about everyone he had encountered.
FoalBerne watched as the man moved down a different alley in a hurry. Curious he walked down the path that he had been running away from, glancing after him as he past the alley where he turned off. "My my, what are we in such a hurry for?" He asked himself aloud as he continued to see what the comotion might have been that would cause someone to run so hurridly away from.
Drent didn't stop. Not until he was close enough to the wall. Then he paused to contemplate the best way to get out of the city. Without attracting too much attention, that is. He backed up and faded, thinking there had to be a better way. Taking off once more in a parallel to the wall, Drent kept his eyes peeled for any public transport out of the city.
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