The SuperHero RPG
Not registered? Sign-up now and role-play as your created character!

Become a legend and write your own legacy to leave behind. Become the hero. Become the villain. See yourself as a protector of the innocent, or be an evil tyrant. Wreck havoc and bring chaos to our world, or stop those who cause it. You are in control of your own destiny. You can be the villain, or the hero. Choose your fate.

NOTE: Any name that is taken can be made available, so long as the account is inactive or no longer being used!

ALSO: Check your PM Box after you've registered and successfully signed in!

Log in

I forgot my password

Latest topics
» Opposites Attract (Fauna/Jeannie Rose)
Yesterday at 9:01 pm by Jeannie Rose

» Militia
Yesterday at 6:24 pm by Chellizard

» Noob on the block
Yesterday at 5:47 pm by Dis Lexic

» Kaio What? (Pyrrha.)
September 19th 2018, 9:22 am by Shadowoof

» SHRP Dossier Application
September 18th 2018, 9:57 pm by ZZlaw

» Fauna Salan
September 18th 2018, 8:09 pm by Dubloon

» Digimon: Lost Chronicles
September 18th 2018, 7:43 pm by epsi

» Coraline Advancement I
September 18th 2018, 5:20 pm by Bliss

» It's in the details.
September 17th 2018, 8:29 am by Fauna Yasenha

» anyone interested in rping?
September 17th 2018, 4:25 am by Jeannie Rose

» A Princess but no Pauper
September 17th 2018, 3:31 am by Bliss

» On my own
September 16th 2018, 10:10 pm by Samael Christensen

Staff


Administrators

Word Count

Shrink your Links!
Enter a long URL to make it tiny:
Rating
Language 2: Swearing is generally permitted. However, the language cannot be used to severely abuse.
Sexual Content 2: Sexual content is permitted. References and writing about genitalia and sex acts are permitted, but explicit detail is not. Fade to black, or use the dotdotdot rule. (Let's keep it PG-13.)
Violence 2: Graphic violence is permitted. Explicit description or in-game narration violence is allowed.

Despite these ratings, keep in mind that there is a limit, and you should not cross it just to garner attention. Also, resorting to curse words is also like adding senseless fluff to your posts.
License
Some rights reserved. This forum, and all of it's content, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License
Disclaimer
Superhero RPG does not own any content written or distributed by Marvel or DC Comics. All of the content referencing to Marvel or DC belongs to its rightful owners. Superhero RPG does not claim rights to any materials used such as Comic Book, Movie, or Video game character images.
Superhero RPG does retain the rights to any and all posts made by the original authors that are a part of SuperheroRPG.
Copyright © 2008-2018 by Chellizard, Spirit Corgi, and Pain. All rights reserved. No part of this website may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without the written permission of the author or the Site Owners.
Donate to SHRP!
Superhero RPG will be able to keep our custom domain, copyrights to your works, and an ever growing appearance that will change over time! 100% of your donations will go to Superhero RPG and nothing else.

An Idol Soldier (Widower)

View previous topic View next topic Go down

An Idol Soldier (Widower)

Post by Brass on September 15th 2012, 12:25 am

Gas stations were the life bread of womany neighborhoods. While womany claimed that these establishments catered to alcoholics and drug dealers without these places fossil fuels and convenience stores would be in much more dewomand. While it was generally understood that sometimes certain dwellings drew out the worst of society's regurgitations the criticism was none less the stronger for a gas joint. Living up to the theme an assortment of people, mostly the homeless and drug addicts, littered the front of the business like a club for the rejected. The smell was that of a mixture of musty arm pits, cigarette smoke, vomit and, oddly, car fresheners.

"Hey girl, got that new twenty inch rim for ya. Twenty dollars! That's a dollar per inch! Can't beat that! Whatcha say woman?" That was the pitch given to the person approaching the gas station. A strange look was given to the street saleswoman. These sort of people always gave the unsuspecting bystander the "talk" and promise of getting a great deal. womany people didn't fall for this. At the same time womany people were suckered into buying something from these kinds of people.

First, the saleswoman wasn't a saleswoman at all or at least not by generally accepted appearances. A random basketball jersey, new sneakers, blue jean pants and a red and black striped baseball cap didn't bear any resemblance of someone a person would buy a sports utility vehicle from. Assortment of tire rims were sprawled out across the ground by the front glass door. Nobody was pumping gas. Instead, figures in black were selling all kinds of substances and even selling females for the pleasure of others. This was the New York City that the media ignored a lot. As long as these kinds of people didn't bother the rich and the famous there wasn't a problem as far as womany of the police officers, journalists and politicians were concerned. After all, was it popular to fight the ant invasion that only happens at a playground or ignore it if kids only get a few bites here and there? The answer would sicken those who fought for a drug and crime free city.

The other party involved in this situation was the passerby who was being give this offer. The wowoman obviously didn't belong in this neighborhood and especially not this side of town. Anybody brave enough to wear a black dress, tie, pants and shoes that looked to be dry cleaned, shined and spiffed had to be either brave, foolish or just ignorant of the danger. There was a reason why there were no good looking vehicles present here. Nice things had a way of disappearing around these parts.

"No thanks. If I wanted to buy something that is clearly stolen I would just go buy a product made by any of Apple's competitors," replied a Japanese accent. A look of confusion was on the face of the saleswoman. Of course, womany wouldn't get that reference if keeping up with the news wasn't a major activity. An entrance was made and a move to the front counter was almost immediate. It was as if this person was ignoring the clear signs that something was wrong. This wowoman had to be indicative of the person just waking up with blood all over the sheets and toilet and yet the intoxication of morning disorientation caused the brain to disregard the indication of disorder.

A scared looking front clerk had both hands up to the sky but yet no music was being played and this woman wasn't dancing. The store had been ransacked. Nobody outside called the police. Most people around didn't even have a cellular device. Men dressed in ski masks and dark clothing was in the process of stockpiling beer onto a hand truck. The person who entered didn't even pay the robbers any attention. She placed a twenty dollar bill on the front counter.

"Pack of Marlboro Red 100s please," she requested. The store clerk nodded in the general direction of the robbers. The customer turned a head and both eyes towards the robbery. There wasn't a sign on the woman's face that he was impressed. She turned her head back and shrugged his shoulders. "Meh," she went on to say.

The clerk was amazed at this woman's general feeling of not being able to care. Whispering was the only option. The store clerk whispered, "Are you insane? Call the cops. They're robbing me you idiot." One of the rogues noticed the woman trying to buy a nicotine fix. Then, all of them noticed this customer. In most cases this would be a horrible situation to be placed into. Yet, not for this woman. If these crooks knew what was good for them a hasty retreat was probably the best option right about now.

"Hey, homie! Hands up and empty your pockets!" Gun sights were placed upon this new entrant to the robbery. Yet, none of the dewomands met compliance. It was as if these criminals were important enough to even be cared about at the time. In fact, this person made a mockery of the request by pulling out a cigarette and go to light the cancer stick.

One of the robbers approached the woman from behind. Words didn't come out. There was a general sense of shock from this rogue due to the fact that most people who had a double barrel shotgun presented upon them responded with submission. "You deaf? Retarded? Stupid? I said put your hands up and hand up anything you got on you!" Still no response. Once again, this woman was mocking the robbers. Once the cigarette was set afire she turned and blew smoke in the ski masked face.

"You have ten seconds minus the five seconds I took to say this to leave," said the customer. The shotgun was pumped. Outside of the gas station the drug addicts, prostitutes, drug dealers and even the failure saleswoman could hear a commotion. There were silhouettes of bodies flying around, gun fire, the sounds of grown men screaming and general chaos. A couple of minutes later the woman dressed in black came out of the front door with a pack of cigarettes. The smashes out front glass door was this woman's doing.

From the inside of the gas station the store clerk waved a hand to the vigilante. "Uh...thank you...come again?" What else could the clerk say?

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
avatar
Brass

Female
Status :
Online
Offline

Quote : "Insert Quote from Character Here" or etc.

Warnings : 0 Warnings
Number of posts : 56
Registration date : 2011-06-07

Back to top Go down

Re: An Idol Soldier (Widower)

Post by The Widower on September 15th 2012, 2:08 am

Wandering around New York City had become a sort of pastime for Audrey. It allowed him to think and to consider his moves, his future actions, and future words. It was like going on a walking sightseeing tour with no sights to be truly seen. He had seen many things in his lifetime, and not very much impressed him anymore. Most things in his life had become mundane routines, lined with a bit of cold blood in between. At least on his walks around the city, he had time to reflect on how dreary his life had become. The only true excitement in his life was his hunt for super humans; the only thing that got his heart and adrenaline pumping. There was an underlying thought in the back of his mind, which was whether he was going to start relying on hunting for a daily buzz. The more he searched and studied and sought out supers to kill, the more boring his normal life of travelling, wandering and brooding got. He knew, however, he wasn’t going to stop until he eradicated the world of the beings that had murdered his wife. His beloved Jennifer.

Soon enough, he found himself stopping in that type of neighbourhood. The type that reminded him a lot of his much loathed hometown of Chicago. He felt himself tense slightly at the thought of Chicago; the city that had killed his wife. He took a deep breath, those horrible scents filling up his nostrils as he did so. He recognised it as the cold, stale smell of the poor, underwaged persons neighbourhood. The underlying smell of alcoholics and alcohol lined vomit was apparent too, and the lingering smell of cigarette smoke, with a hint of air freshener. Audrey took his time to process these smells, closing his eyes to help him understand them better. He was in no rush, and therefore could take his time to breakdown that complex, disgusting smell that so many people seemed to wallow in. He moved to adjust his hat, straighten his tie, and press down any wrinkles in his white suit jacket. Any odd resident of this area would look at him and definitely realise that he was out of place. He looked expensive, walked in expensive shoes, and probably even smelt expensive. Though, if anyone did happen to bother him, he always kept his favourite revolver with him at all times, along with other guns he kept within his nicely pressed jacket.

He contemplated just ignoring the place and continuing his wandering of the city, but his feet refused to listen to the messages he was trying to send to them to carry on walking. He quietly surveyed the decaying area once more and spotted a gas station. The desperate type of gas station where no cars ever went to for gas. The type that was often filled with the desperate, the homeless, and the hopeless. Audrey felt a bit parched, realising that he had not gotten himself a proper drink in quite some time. There was no reason stopping him from just entering the little gas station to retrieve a Coke or two. As he approached the place, he couldn’t help but survey and examine every person standing in the gas station whose gas was not the favourite product for purchasing. There was a pang of pity for these sad people, but Audrey dismissed it. He hadn’t the time or need to be pitiful of the people that most probably led themselves down into such a disgraceful road.

”You sir look like the type of man in need of a good time!” one of the shady salespersons had told him. Oh yes, surely, Audrey was the type of man in need of a good time. This person was clearly looking to sell him some sort of pleasure generating device, or in other words, a prostitute. Audrey stuck his hand up to dismiss the man’s offer, “You look like a man perfect for the gallows.” was what he said before continuing on his walk to the store that actually sold things he wanted; and what he wanted was definitely not women.

He stopped, however, when he heard a commotion. The kind of commotion that constituted a fight of some sorts, and a truly one sided fight at that. Of course, desperate people stole from desperate stores, after all. That’s how it worked. He had definitely heard gunfire, and the sound was all too familiar to him. His brain ran through the different guns it could have been and he decided that it was most probably a shotgun. There was the sound of grown men, as well, and he wondered if it was some sort of gang fight. Then again, what sort of gang would stoop so low as to fight in a lousy gas station store? He was, however, ever so slightly bemused by this small, young girl that walked out with a cigarette in her mouth. Her exiting the store first probably meant that she was the winner of said fight. Audrey examined the girl in the black dress for a moment before peeking into the store through the smashed glass of the front door. No normal girl of her size could take down fully grown men with shotguns.

From the looks of it, she was unscathed, and just as out of place in the area as he was. Although her clothing choice was something he would question at a later time, for who in the world wore a tie with a dress? From his experience, a girl of her size and stature would not stand a chance against any man. Audrey decided that this girl was definitely not normal; she was a super human, and super humans needed to be killed. He slowly reached for his revolver and pulled it out, whispering to the gun that she would be used well, and that her time would not be wasted. With that, he clicked the hammer of the revolver and pointed it towards the girl in the black dress. He didn’t care what those other salespersons did, if they hadn’t called the police already after that commotion, it would be unlikely that they would try to again. They’d thank him later, for cleaning up the streets of the mutant menace.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The Widower
Spoiler:
avatar
The Widower

Male
Status :
Online
Offline

Quote : "Insert Quote from Character Here" or etc.

Warnings : 0 Warnings
Number of posts : 48
Registration date : 2012-08-27

Back to top Go down

Re: An Idol Soldier (Widower)

Post by Brass on September 15th 2012, 2:30 am

There were times where Reiko would be threatened but tonight wasn't that night. She was upset over something. Somebody must have urinated in her Lucky Charms because she wasn't in the kind of mood that warranted anything special. In fact, for the most part, she had spent so much time grinding her teeth together that a visit to a nearby dentist would be called for. The more she went on the more she realized just how pissed off she was. It all started this morning revolving around the aura that her parents had grounded her for the offense of not taking out the garbage. Two weeks without television made Reiko a very unhappy girl. And yet, this shadowy and dark figure moved throughout the streets as if there wasn't a care in the world. If only someone could have seen the storm raging in her mind and if that very natural disturbance could escape her thoughts one would need a shelter from the winds of hatred to come.

Now, in this mood, there were not many humans who would be called wise for bringing her to an even deeper degree of anger. For the most part, with exception to the gas station, she did a marvelous job of not beating random people to death as if they had stole her stimulus check. However, that was about to change. Somebody was about to push her to the brink and to levels that she hadn't originally reached before. It was certain that some would have to understand that she was not normal. After all Reiko did the near impossible by doing to those thugs what the justice system was doing to these neighborhoods. She had to mull over and over again in her head about how the law enforcement of this area could allow such atrocities to occur. This was every bit indicative of a third world country. These were the bad lands and these were the lands that didn't make the cliche spinning newspaper headlines. Children and the vulnerable were exposed to this filth, this utter castration of the American dream.

There was even more crime being viewed by her than before. The more this woman walked the more she realized that people like her, the villains, were actually nothing more than heroes masquerading as the bad guys. In her lifetime, she had taken lives. However, was it really wrong to kill those people? That was the question she had to ask herself. Was it better to live in these conditions or to die knowing that one doesn't have to come home to this urban hell? No, these questions were meant for Reiko to justify the evils she committed. There was no excuse or justification. There was only the truth. She was evil. She couldn't change that.

As she dragged her feet through the asphalt and kicked through fast food wrappings and plastic bags the idea of her being watched hit her in the face like bricks attached to boulders. One didn't need mind reading when it came to understanding that basic human instinct of survival. Homo sapiens were once wild creatures without the luxuries of television and satellite devices geared towards spying on fellow man. There was something eerie about the dark figures with reflections of dimming light from burning garbage cans hitting the eyes of men watching her as if they were nothing more than wolves viewing the lamb for slaughter. Yet, she was able to walk through this space without the fear of being persecuted.

Nobody wanted to touch her because she had the appearance of being a police officer. A fair skinned woman walking through this place alone at night? Nothing about that seemed typical or right. But in fact Reiko was not a cop nor did she belong to the secret agent club. There was nothing that said Jane Bond about her in her eyes. Basically, the only thing that protected her was the idea of deception. Reiko knew what she would appear to be to some of these people. She also knew that it would explain how a girl of her size was able to do some of the things that she did. The loaded packs of cigarettes stuffed up her skirt and being held in place by underwear strapping had the appearance of a firearm. That factor alone made people keep even more distance away from her.

A man came out of nowhere and pointed something at her. The darkness didn't reveal much and was unforgiving to the untrained eye. At first, she didn't know how to take this. There was no way somebody was brave enough to challenge her while being dressed the way that she was. Her little deceptive clothing didn't work this time. As a passing car rode by the headlights revealed the appearance of this figure holding what appeared to be a gun. She wanted to laugh. Reiko had dealt with beam weapons and other things. But a gun? Seriously? She wasn't impressed. In fact, him holding a gun to her was like threatening her with a pile of finger nail clippings. This had to be a joke. Her smile proved her disrespect for the modern day firearm. But then she gave that rather quick frown and stopped her walking. Her back was turned to the guy. One heel was placed behind the other and she executed a damn near perfect about face.

"I know guys like you aren't used to hearing this but access denied. Please, do me a favor and go become a stop sign for eighteen wheelers. Your mother should have taught you to go play while grown folk are busy," she said with a rather harsh tone.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
avatar
Brass

Female
Status :
Online
Offline

Quote : "Insert Quote from Character Here" or etc.

Warnings : 0 Warnings
Number of posts : 56
Registration date : 2011-06-07

Back to top Go down

Re: An Idol Soldier (Widower)

Post by The Widower on September 15th 2012, 3:20 am

Audrey contemplated time and time again his actions and his movements. There were times when he ultimately regretted things he had done, mostly when doing so had caused him greater injury than rewards. He knew that he sometimes had a knack for pulling out his gun at the closest sight to someone who he believes is a super. In times like these, he had decided that supers he had decided to pick off, he may never see again, due to a huge lack of information gathered about them. Plus, sometimes he found much more satisfaction in killing someone at a closer range, rather than his usually preferred style of sniping them off from a high building. Sometimes, Audrey realised, he had to learn to live a little in order to not start spiralling down into the mundane cycle of depression he had been in before.

Sometimes, he put too much time, effort, and knowledge into hunting down one, almost insignificant super. Audrey loved strategising, though, he loved planning ahead and having the upper hand, yet there was something absolutely thrilling about spontaneous encounters. Maybe it was the adrenaline that pumped through his veins when pulling a gun at an absolute stranger that got him hooked, or maybe his brain was starting to fail him. It was a possibility in his mind, that being around somewhere as dreadful as this neighbourhood for too long, could impact his thinking and decision making skills. He loved the feel of having a gun in his hand, and having a live target to be able to shoot. His revolver, his dear, sweet Michelle, had spoken to him too; told him that she wanted to be put to use, but put to use well. He wasn’t going to just waste her time like that. In his mind, he knew he was doing good for the people of New York City. The poor people of this ramshackled neighbourhood probably did not understand what was good for them, so he would help them by ridding it of those who did not deserve life. Those atrocities that destroyed the lives of so many in these cities.

Then again, who is to say who the true heroes or villains are in this story? To Audrey, he was the true hero, he was the one that was helping every state rid themselves of the killer menace of which were super humans. Though, many still lived under the impression that there are only two sides to a battle, the good and the bad. Many did not understand just how complex the system of marking ‘good’ and ‘bad’ was. Often times, the people are fed lies that they are forced to believe, and they refuse to believe the possibility of anything else. For every story, there are sides, and from every side, there are angles, and from every angle, there is a different perspective. The question is what perspective a person would choose to look from, using said perspective to deny every other side to it. Therefore, from Audrey’s perspective, everybody else was wrong, and the supers were the villain of every story.

In the darkness, Audrey had to count his steps and consider every movement of his. He wanted the upper hand, after all. He did a quick scan of his surroundings, just in case, taking into consideration every possibility for an attack or for an evasion in the area. Of course, Audrey was not the type of guy who would believe in a deception of a girl being a police officer, when she had just exited from such a big commotion. From what he knew, police were not supposed to behave in such erratic manners. Though, who was he to say that the New York Police Department was not corrupted? In every justice system, there was bound to be corruption. Even if she was some sort of cop, he wasn’t going to back down, because he had already marked her as a super. He was able to catch a short glimpse of the girl’s face as it was illuminated slightly by a passing car’s headlights, but that was it. Being in darkness meant that he could not rely on remembering a face for the future, but that short lighting had at least helped him pick out some of her most predominant features.

There was something about the girl that he found almost unnerving. Maybe it was her confidence and the way she carried herself, or maybe it was the fact that someone of her stature was able to beat up a group of fully grown men. When she had turned around to face him, he just examined her a bit more closely, gun still trained on the girl. He showed no visible reaction to what she had said, but it did give him a bit of information on her personality. A condescending super who thought they were above everyone else. Audrey found this ridiculous for a girl her height.

“Your mother should have taught you that insults are unbecoming for a lady.” he said, keeping his voice steady as he spoke. He was never the type to start petty conversations or throw petty insults, but he hadn’t much to lose. The girl must have had a lot of confidence in herself, after all, if she was able to say something like that while he had a gun pointed at her. “What is a young girl doing out alone at such a late hour anyway. This city is dangerous and crawling with all sorts of villainous people.” Maybe it was ironic for him to be giving such a warning, when he was the one with the gun in hand. He felt lenient that night, so maybe if the girl just decided to walk off into the night, he’d postpone his hunt for her to another day.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The Widower
Spoiler:
avatar
The Widower

Male
Status :
Online
Offline

Quote : "Insert Quote from Character Here" or etc.

Warnings : 0 Warnings
Number of posts : 48
Registration date : 2012-08-27

Back to top Go down

Re: An Idol Soldier (Widower)

Post by Brass on September 15th 2012, 4:32 am

Normally, she would have reacted with anger. His face, from what she gathered, looked normal and about as breakable as chipped glass. However, something was different. This man seemed familiar to her. No, not in the literal sense but in the metaphorical world. Reiko could not put a finger on what she was feeling. She certainly didn't understand why she couldn't just fight this guy or try to hurt him and get it over with. A heavy feeling was laid upon her like a quilt covered in wet cement. This emotion was dragging her down. That single great thrust of the spear made of pity struck her in the heart and in the mind. Nothing about this guy could have prepared her for the most unexpected thing that Reiko Li would ever do. She didn't fight him nor did she have a desire to. The truth was that she wanted to do something out of the ordinary for the crazy girl that she was.

The drag of that cigarette was like toxic candy. Hardly anything else in the world could have tasted better. Her lips touched the filter so often to the point where they were beginning to chap and parts of skin from those lips were left in the form of tiny sectionals. The mind was racing a million miles a minute. Why was she thinking like this? Why couldn't she just do what she was apparently born to do? Why couldn't she fight? Not too long ago she handed out wholesale ass whippings to a bunch of guys whose names she would probably never know or care to remember. What was so different about this man? How was he unique out of all the men she had met before? Every man had a tendency to have the same typical genitalia. He had a masculine figure. There certainly was nothing lacking in the testosterone department due to subtle aggression with a gun pointing at her.

"No, no, no. Not today. You're not getting what you want out of me and I won't get what I wanted from you only seconds ago," she said. Reiko confirmed her refusal to get the reaction that she believed this guy wanted out of her. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction nor was she going to allow this to get any uglier than what it already has. This was completely unbecoming of a person branded in the fire of combat. Thousands of hours were placed into punching wooden dummies in areas that would affect a man in a very special way. All of that training was meant for times like these. She too was holding a gun in the forms of her hands and feet. Like him, she hadn't pulled the trigger. Both of them were holding their ammunition at bay. If he wanted her dead it would have been easy. No amount of weight lifting was required for the index finger to make a twitch. If she wanted him dead a sweat wouldn't drop for her to throw him clear across the night sky like an extraterrestrial being transported via bike and sitting in a basket on said bike.

She shook her head. This was a continuing refusal. Her heels clicked against the ground as she paced back and forth like a crack addict needing a fix. "Look at you. No, seriously," she stopped her words. Reiko pointed at him with a finger and then dropped that finger. She shook her head some more. A chuckle came from her mouth. "Pathetic. No, seriously, the image that you show. The idea that I'm supposed to be scared of you and the very thing you represent is as annoying as a gnat on steroids," she suggested. Either she really believed that this weapon was no danger to her or she was throwing rocks at the man holding the gun. She spat upon the ground. The saliva didn't land too far away from the person she was insulting. This was a sign that she didn't agree with what he was doing or what he represented in her eyes. To Reiko he was something that she despised for so long.

"Look at you. A mask? Really? What is this, Halloween? You know why I hate people like you? It's because I AM you!" That was the truth of the matter behind why she was acting this way. If anybody viewed Reiko's past with the battles she had with other supers like herself many of those opponents were nothing like her. Reiko had a hard time fighting the mirror. But this man could be and most likely was nothing like her. Still, to her, he was her twin only with more height, a different gender and a vastly different dress code. "That looks like something I would wear. But I stopped wearing it. See what I got on now? Do you see me with a freakin' mask? Hmm? Do you? No. Natta. You don't see that. Wanna know why? Because-" Reiko stopped her verbal bashing to pull another drag from the nearly spent cigarette. This guy was really working her nerves and he barely said half of what she did. "The rest of us, you know, the adults? We've learned to do something and it is called growing up. Grow up kid! Take off the sheet from your neck. Stop playing cops and robbers. Get a job. Get married. Have kids and certainly don't dress up those kids in that bullshit you're wearing now. Make something of yourself. Change the world. Invent a cure for cancer. Help the homeless. Save the wicked. But before you can change the world you gotta start at home and change yourself," she rambled.

Some of the homeless people were tempted to clap their hands but were too high to be coherent enough to do so. Reiko's speech was coming from the heart. She didn't hate this man as much as she just wished that he didn't remind her of what she used to be. If someone viewed what Reiko did lately nothing about her appeared to be villainous at all. Actually, she was more heroic than anything else. The only reason why she considered herself to be a bad guy was based off of her past actions and nothing more. But who hasn't stolen anything or gotten into a fight? Murder was horrible but many killed people and were free and none of those people had the clouds of regret shrouding them or at least that's what she thought. She believed this guy wouldn't listen to her because, if someone met her a while ago, she wouldn't have listened. If he didn't that would only give her more reason to believe that he was like her.

"The world expects us to be evil. In fact, the world revolves around evil. You talk to me about bad people running around and those wouldn't be the same bad people who points weapons at young ladies like myself, right? Get real. You want to know why people hate people like you? Look at that gun. No, really, I'm serious. Look at it," she said. Her finger pointed directly at the gun. "Colt Anaconda. Know how much a gun like that costs? I'd say around a thousand on average even on the streets. Did you know that people in Afghanistan only make, on average, two thousand dollars a year per household? You're holding HALF of someone's yearly salary in your hands and people like you will wonder why countries hate America?" she queried.

Her demeanor changed. This wasn't just the multiple personality disorder she suffered from. This was honest and sincere. She almost wanted to cry for this man. No, not because he deserved her tears but because he didn't deserve them. The fact that she believed that people like him and like her didn't warrant any human emotion was the saddest part of what she was thinking. Reiko believed that society created people like her. When those who aren't loved look upon life it was hard to have any respect for those with breath in their lungs if emotion was absent. She didn't need to be put into a jail cell because such imprisonment already existed in the confounds of her very being and soul. She took a few steps towards this man and tossed away what was the stinking filter.

"I know what its like. I know. Believe me, I do. You're like me. I know you are. So, I don't mind the gamble. I'm going to give you the one thing nobody ever gave me; a chance," she said. Reiko was now right in front of the gun. She couldn't dodge if she wanted to. If he wanted to shoot her nothing could stop him or prevent him from being completely accurate. "I'm Reiko. And I really don't want to walk home alone," she said.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
avatar
Brass

Female
Status :
Online
Offline

Quote : "Insert Quote from Character Here" or etc.

Warnings : 0 Warnings
Number of posts : 56
Registration date : 2011-06-07

Back to top Go down

Re: An Idol Soldier (Widower)

Post by The Widower on September 15th 2012, 9:04 am


This girl was definitely different, but Audrey could not place a finger on it. There was something about her and her attitude that truly disarmed him; made him unable to pull the trigger of his revolver. No matter, he kept it pointed at the girl. Different or not, he was going to have to keep his head. Normal people, when approached with a gun, panicked, but not this girl. Normally, if someone he marked as a super did not react, he would have shot them, but there he was, finger wavering above the trigger, still unpulled. Maybe it was out of pure curiosity for the girl that he could not bring himself to kill her. A single pull of a few muscles and she could be dead, but he knew not to underestimate the opponent. From his knowledge, the girl had beaten up fully grown men, but at least for himself, he had the ability and skills to fight back, unlike those lousy, half baked robbers. He at least stood a chance against this small girl.

There was a feeling of odd familiarity when he looked to the girl. He felt as if he had known her his whole life, with that cocky condescending voice of hers, and the way she walked and moved. He just stood watch as she took a drag of her cigarette, quietly inhaling in order to get a whiff of that cigarette smoke. Audrey did smoke on occasion, but hadn’t done so recently. The girl smoking did bring back a few memories of when he used to smoke constantly. The nicotine helped him feel buzzed, after all, and he needed a quick fix every now and again, along with some espresso for those long, long summer days. That then reminded him of the times his wife had told him to stop smoking. Those days were long gone, and that thought alone was enough to snap him back into the present.

At the girl’s statement, Audrey had to contemplate what he had wanted from the girl in the first place. For a start, he did want her dead for being a super, and he wanted to quench his curiosity about the girl and what she was doing. The way this girl spoke really did rile him up a bit, but only a bit, for Audrey was not the type that was going to lose his temper at a girl who could not hold her tongue. He usually might have reacted a bit more violently, knowing that she was probably a super, but he didn’t. His lack of reaction baffled even himself, but he knew, at least, that this girl didn’t seem to be getting hostile just yet. The way this girl spoke to him was as if he was a little boy with a toy gun, and it irritated him that the girl had enough nerve to talk in such an insulting manner.

The girl spitting on the ground proved to him that this was no ordinary dainty girl in a social situation. He already knew she wasn’t dainty in the whole fighting section of life, but spitting towards his feet just put the cherry on top of the metaphorical cake. He couldn’t help but frown slightly at it, hating the thought of something that disgusting possibly being on his shoes. The girl’s pacing was definitely something unexpected, but then again, he couldn’t expect much from her, with such little knowledge of her being. Other than hold up a gun at her, he was not sure how he had irritated the girl in such a way. Either that or the girl was having a crash from a lack of drugs. In his eyes, she was just a target, but a target that he couldn’t seem to bring himself to shoot.

The statement of the girl comparing himself to her really disconcerted him. It was something he never thought a girl like that could consider. He himself could not find that many similarities between them, but maybe from the girl’s point of view, she saw something inside of him that he didn’t see in her. Maybe that was the reason why the girl seemed to be holding back what she had done to those desperate robbers, and maybe it was a contribution to the reason why he hadn’t pulled his trigger just yet. The way this girl spoke was as if she had years of experience on her, as if she was more than Audrey himself, but he wasn’t going to believe her. There was a reason for the mask, and he would rather keep it on, because from his own experience, the face could truly be something that gave you away. Just the smallest definitions made you your own person, and Audrey did not want to be the one hunted any time soon. He was the hunter, after all.

Her rambling about growing up and getting married did strike a chord within Audrey’s heart. His muscles tensed and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness in his otherwise resentful emotions. He could feel the arm holding the gun trembled slightly from the tension, but he took a deep breath and slowly relaxed. He had grown up, oh yes, he had, and he had gotten married too. He remembered those days when Jennifer and he would try for a child, but efforts ended in vain. He wasn’t going to listen to some young girl who thought she understood him, he found it patronising and unsettling. He contemplated saying something, but he truly had nothing to say. Audrey was not a man of many words, so he chose instead to be a man of little to no words, unless he could make them matter.

For some strange reason, her statement just made it that much harder for him to want to shoot her. If this girl’s assumption was true, and they were somehow so similar to one another, it would be like killing himself. Audrey, in no state of mind, would want to kill himself. He was selfish and would rather live a lonely, bitter life than to join his wife in wherever the dead went. Then again, he had always believed that killing oneself was cowardice, and Audrey, by no means, was a coward. Well, not that much of a coward, anyway. He did find himself scared at times, but he never ran away, for that would make him come off as some sort of failure in the art of fighting. It was possible that the things that Audrey did got him marked by society as some sort of villain, but to himself, he was a saviour of the people. By being a saviour, he could not just kill himself, that would reflect badly on all, after all.

As the girl pointed to his gun, he couldn’t help but tilt his head slightly to get a better look at it. It was his favourite revolver, and his dear Michelle at that. She had been with him through all sorts of difficult battles. Sure, maybe she had come at a bit of a hefty price, but she was of good quality and he really did love her to bits. So, if anything, he was using about five-eighths or three quarters of an Afghanistan person’s yearly income. Not that he cared, he had the money to use, so he used it. Audrey was born well off, and he grew to be well off too, so why not spend his money on things he liked rather than to give it to charity and wonder whether his money was even being put to good use. He felt a bit insulted that this girl had already imposed a character on him, as if he was the type of guy who did not know why people hated America. That he was some sort of oblivious trigger happy maniac with an expensive gun. It was possible that the latter was true at times, but definitely not the obliviousness. Audrey was anything but oblivious, and he himself often found himself hating America.

“Her name’s Michelle.” he said in a quiet, but steady voice. “I’m surprised you know so much about revolvers, though. Michelle’s one of a kind.” maybe he was a bit biased, but he always thought his revolver was more special than the rest. It spoke to him, after all, and that meant they were meant to be.

Maybe nobody truly deserved the kindness or compassion of another human, but society had made it almost compulsory to feign those emotions to others. Sure, not everyone followed these social norms, but it was expected of people, apparently. Audrey was never a man for social interaction, nor was he the kind to show emotions to any other living persons other than his wife, who was now no longer alive enough for her to count. A tear or two from a stranger would confuse him, for neither was he the type to understand outwardly expressing emotions. By doing so, you were showing the people around you that you were vulnerable, and that things affected you enough to have open feelings about it.

Reiko’s move to approach him came as a surprise. That was something that he never in a thousand years would have expected anyone to do. He had already calculated that if he shot her, she would never be able to dodge, unless she had super speed. Even what she said to him was came as a shock. He quickly contemplated everything he could have done, since his aim was far from inaccurate, but in the end just lowered his arm and placed the revolver back into its holster. If this girl had decided to throw away second chances like that, or something, he decided that he could afford returning the favour. He slowly tipped his hat in a form of greeting, nodding quietly in acknowledgement. Audrey had done something he never expected he would do in his lifetime; put down a gun without being openly threatened with some other form of weaponry, when he was sure the person in front of him was a super. Well, there was a first for everything, and as long as this first did not get him killed, he guessed it would be fine to try something new for once. Plus, this girl intrigued him, and he did want to learn more about her.

“Audrey. And I will accompany you on your journey if that is what you are insinuating.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The Widower
Spoiler:
avatar
The Widower

Male
Status :
Online
Offline

Quote : "Insert Quote from Character Here" or etc.

Warnings : 0 Warnings
Number of posts : 48
Registration date : 2012-08-27

Back to top Go down

Re: An Idol Soldier (Widower)

Post by Brass on September 15th 2012, 11:17 pm

If she were more honest with herself there was a huge problem with this guy. This was symbolic of making a deal with the devil and this Lucifer bore heavy weaponry and a grit that separated him from many men of his persuasion. The most that she could expect from him, in her opinion, was just an awkward conversation, perhaps an offer for a bed fellow and potentially a friendship that would stem from the smell of brimstone and defiled bed sheets. Reiko could easily understand how anybody could make such assumptions of some of the possibilities. Rarely did she meet someone and didn't either fight them or pummel their face into mush.

In either case and in any conclusion Reiko was content. She had no deserve for two of the three possibilities. For one, she didn't really find him to be attractive. Two, there was no deserve for a friendship. And finally, three, she already knew this was going to be weird. However, Reiko was at her best when things were at their most unusual. If situations were normal she would have no pivotal moments in life in which defined her. For once, she realized that it wasn't her past that gave definition but the present and the future in which provided the needle injecting the idea of progress. That was her purpose now. It wasn't about past but progress.

This man changed her and he didn't even know it yet. Transformational was the word she'd have to use to describe him. No, not a single hint of physical attraction was being given in her eyes. And yet, the ugliest of roses was the perfect of symbols to give those a reason to realize that their shit did in fact stink. It was refreshing. It was a long time coming. No matter how much she wanted to tell herself that he was not attractive her body came closer to his as if he were the light and she was the moth. There was nothing more satisfying than finding something that she could call similar.

There was also nothing more rewarding than knowing that it was her words and not an elbow, fist or headbutt that won the battle. To stop a potentially dangerous situation using nothing more than common sense and vocal output was something that she would certainly come to remember. This was the day that the devil and the angel brought down their arms. Not a sword was drawn. Bullets would not find a coffin in the heart of a fellow human. Not this day. Not this time.

Her hand went up to try to touch the man. She didn't want to hurt him. This person was very observing and she noticed this right off the bat. His eyes didn't leave her; not for a second. Either he was the paranoid feline or something about her caught his attention. It didn't matter. Her mind went into the places that couldn't be found or discovered from the parrying eyes of hate and violence. This was a land only traveled by those with peace. That's the one thing he gave her; peace. There was no need to show off for this guy. There was no need to be different.

She believed that they were the same. Therefore, Reiko had no justification for trying to stand out. It would be indicative of two balloons trying to prove who could pop the fastest when the conclusion for both parties involved would be inevitable. She could have easily delivered a knife handed chop to the throat causing massive injury and a cut off blood flow coupled in marriage to a lack of oxygen going to the brain via airways. No, she couldn't. For the first time in her life the only thing she wanted to do was to forget that she was an incredibly talented fighter and wanted more to know that she was first a human being.

"What did the world do to you?" she asked. Reiko felt a tear on her face. This man, to her, was nothing more than a tortured soul. She could identify. She knew what it was like to be different and to be rejected for it. None of her assumptions were automatically correct but she felt strongly with all of her heart that she was right. The part that made his appeal so impressive was the fact that she didn't care if she were wrong or right. He wasn't just a person that wouldn't have hesitated to kill her. Instead, this man was a representative of what she was for the entirety of her life.

Again, these are just assumptions. Still, everything about this guy sent off so many red flags in her mind to the point where it was unbearable. She saw in him the same anger, fury and divisiveness that forged the fires of her heart. She shook her head and laughed to herself. "I'm sorry. But I just know someone who is crying out for help when I see one," she explained. Her hand would touch his face. That mask made even more tears come. Her face was normally covered in all sorts of things with an attempt to conceal her identity. Yet, she didn't wear these things this evening. There was no need to hide. The masks were not for her crimes to be unknown. The masks was to hide the person behind the crimes, not from law enforcement, but from shame. She needed the excuse to do bad things and hide from herself as a response and as a vice.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
avatar
Brass

Female
Status :
Online
Offline

Quote : "Insert Quote from Character Here" or etc.

Warnings : 0 Warnings
Number of posts : 56
Registration date : 2011-06-07

Back to top Go down

Re: An Idol Soldier (Widower)

Post by The Widower on September 16th 2012, 2:28 am

Those assumptions from Reiko would inevitably prove to be wrong. Though Audrey may have come off as the type of promiscuous man who heckled women for a nice night out, he was definitely out of that ball park. Luckily, or unluckily, her expectations would not be met, for Audrey was still dedicated and fully pledged to his wife, despite the fact that death had done them apart. Then again, it was almost impossible not to judge someone by their first impressions, after all. He himself had his own assumptions on this girl, like how she was probably some school dropout because whatever super human power she had made her believe that she was above the education system, or something along those lines. They, however, were thoughts that he kept inside, because it would do him no justice to say them out loud, for he knew nothing about this girl other than her cocky attitude.

No human being could deny the need to have at least one friend; one person that you could talk to. In Audrey’s case, however, humans were just pesky things with feelings he often could care less about, and so what was better company than inanimate objects? They listened, never spoke back, and didn’t bother him with trying to understand feelings. That was something that Audrey had always struggled with, even from when he went by the name Aubrey. Feelings; he truly had so much trouble trying to understand them. He spent so much time trying to disassemble emotions in order to figure out the piece of complex machinery that so many people ran on. Even he himself ran on the burning, incomprehensible emotions which were hatred and love. Maybe just a bit more than a lot of the former.

Yet, there were so few who discovered what a grotesque thing a rose was. That behind the beauteous superficiality of a person, lay thorns that would pierce the skin and make said rose undesirable. Like how something as sweet as sugar, put under a little too much heat, can become bitter and foul tasting. Who was to say that humans were not any different? Sometimes the people just had to wake up from their idealistic hazed vision, to sniff the rotting flowers that tried to persevere in the shambles of what they believed was their perfect city.

Words were truly something that could win a battle, if used properly enough. Some do say that the pen is mightier than the sword. Words were something that could be used as a peaceful settlement of dispute, but could easily turn into a vice, if laced with enough anger or hatred. With such poison in one’s own mouth, who is to say that others could not drown in such potentness? Still, words had made a man lower his gun, showing the true, hidden power, inlaid within what could be considered a simple saying.

Audrey did not move nor react as the girl’s hand raised to touch him. He quickly glanced to the hand, though, for a moment, for one could never be too cautious when around potentially dangerous strangers. Though his eyes were often lead by the bitterness in his heart, and he still tried to understand this girl and all that she was doing. It was definitely something he could not seem to grasp, even with his extensive knowledge. He still found himself baffled by his own refusal to shoot, even to the point of putting his gun away. This girl had truly disarmed him, though he refused to become complacent. He would still keep on the balls of his feet, for if something were to happen, he wanted to be able to react fast enough to dodge anything she threw at him. He had so little information, that fighting wise, he could not truly expect much at all. Growing comfortable around strangers made one vulnerable, after all.

The question flicked a switch in Audrey’s brain. What had the world done to him? It had done so much, yet not directly. The world had indirectly destroyed his life, taking away the only living person that he had truly learnt to love and cherish. The world had taken what little things that he had, and ruined them. He was left with nothing, left to wallow in his own self pity as he plotted revenge on the things that had made him into what he was. He could feel his body tense as the girl asked the question, but, as usual, took a deep breath in order to relax himself. Why was this girl asking such a question? Maybe she was looking at him with the same burning curiosity he was at her. This question was possibly something he could ask her. What compelled her to be so passionate about the price of his gun, or the similarity between herself and a stranger with said gun? It was a question he needed answers to, because Audrey hated unanswered questions.

Though, such assumptions were often at times proved to be wrong. Though, so much of Audrey was built upon his anger, bitterness, and his strive for revenge against the beings that had done him wrong. Without such anger and such a drive, he would be plain Aubrey Cowell, the widower who spends his time shut inside, recluse, and built upon sadness of his lover. It was such anger and vexation that created himself as a person, after all, and maybe it was that anger that blinded him from seeing any similarities between the girl and himself. For she did not seem to outwardly show much anger, just a lot of irritation. Then again, when was Audrey ever good at deciphering human emotions? Never.

“Who are you to decide what is crying out for help.” because Audrey thought he was fully capable of helping himself. Plus, this was a young girl deciding this, and he found this almost unbelievably irritating. The girl’s laugh confused him, along with whatever glint of tears he could see in that dark night. Maybe this girl was just over emotional, but the girl’s hand on his face something that made him tense slightly. He never did enjoy physical contact with others unless it was fighting or with his wife. It might have been obvious enough to feel his jaw clench under the cloth he wore over his nose and mouth. He found that to be simple enough, for the definitions of one’s jaw line was something that could give you away. There was just so much about this girl he was dying to understand, like why in the world she was touching his face.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The Widower
Spoiler:
avatar
The Widower

Male
Status :
Online
Offline

Quote : "Insert Quote from Character Here" or etc.

Warnings : 0 Warnings
Number of posts : 48
Registration date : 2012-08-27

Back to top Go down

Re: An Idol Soldier (Widower)

Post by Brass on September 16th 2012, 3:11 am

The sorrow she felt for this man was at a level that she hadn't felt since her grandmother passed away. She wanted to just walk away right now and never speak of this man again. There was more and more things about him that she assumed that was giving her reason to question her own existence. The reason why she couldn't stop touching him wasn't clear to her. His feel was something that she hadn't felt in a while. It was of a hardened shell built up to keep people out. She had a sense that this man was hurting on the inside but she couldn't assume why. Was he a drug addict turned violent? Perhaps a person who lost someone like her? Maybe he could just be the kind of weirdo that Reiko could identify with? Nothing was clear and could only be answered with more questioning.

A thumb, index, middle, ring and pinky continued to survey this man's flash. The more she felt upon him the more she understood why her mother was so crazy about her father. Media projected that a man was supposed to be flashy and have all kinds of money. However, as Reiko was learning, there was more to a man than what was in the wallet. His courage overwhelmed her. To her, it took serious fortitude to put away a gun when killing her was the common sense option. That showed restraint. She could learn from this man. The one thing that she lacked was the ability to hold back. He presented her the alternative to being what she normally would be.

There was more to learn from touching him. He didn't stop her. That only fed into her belief that this man was begging on his knees for someone to just care about him. She believed that pointing weapons at people was just an example of monstrous behavior. Reiko believed that this man only acted like a monster because people treated him like one. She wanted to be the different one. No fight could be had here and no glorious victory could be established.

There was another underlying reason why Reiko was feeling on his face. One has to understand that she doesn't see as well as some people may think that she did. Her fighting ability was great or at least many of her opponents would say so. However, her vision was not great without glasses. She was damn near legal status in terms of blindness. She had to feel on him. Her actions were completely motivated off of sound. That explained why she fought so well. Sight could be taken away with a simple poke to the eyes. Sound could only be eliminated with a palm strike to the ears or a very loud sound. Her weakness was what she was exploiting.

Guns had defining characteristics even for someone with her limited sight. So did this man. Now, it was rare that she found anybody attractive. In fact, she really hasn't had too much romantic contact with many people. Then again, who would date someone like Reiko? She was weird and was proud of it. She would prove this by bringing her face closer to this man and smelling him. Now, of course, this would freak out most people. Reiko had to know this.

She was hoping he wouldn't mind. He smelled like a man should smell, talked with assertiveness and with a lovable sarcasm that she already enjoyed. Those lips, that nose and those cheek bones were glanced over again via the feeling sense with a hand. This was what a man was supposed to feel like. There was nothing more important to her than discovering someone through touch. Nothing could be more personal to her. The fact he allowed this to continue only motivated her to continue in order to find out more about him.

One's face, scars and general upkeep told Reiko all she needed to know about a person. A frown came to her face. It wasn't a frown of disgust but one of even more pity. There were no scars or deformities. There wasn't any blemishes. Something was wrong with her logic then. If she assumed he was the hardened soul then why doesn't he have any physical damage? Her eyes shot open. A revelation hit her. Alas, it was yet another assumption.

It had something to do with what her grandmother once told her. Her grandmother said, "Sometimes, the scars of battle doesn't show on the outside. Take this apple. Sometimes the apple rots from the inside and then out." Just thinking about this made her sad. If what she believed was true this man had been through a lot and she was only provoking him to mentally relive those horrors. For that, she didn't just touch him. No, she had to show him more affection than this. A hug was in order. An embrace was made. His size was clearly greater than hers so it looked more like a small rag doll holding onto a grizzly bear.

'I-I'm sorry. You're hurting. You don't have to tell me; I know. But you have to know that you don't have to be alone all the time. There are those who'll love you and care for you if you let them. Even the Berlin Wall had to fall at some point and your walls will fall too," she said. Once the hug was made she could feel his defining characteristics. If her assumption was indeed correct such a strong built man certainly could be the metaphor of someone strong enough to withstand the mental torture being felt. "I'd love you. No, not marry you kinda love. But at least the kind where someone could finally give a damn about you before discarding you into the pile of typical gangsters," she went on to say.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
avatar
Brass

Female
Status :
Online
Offline

Quote : "Insert Quote from Character Here" or etc.

Warnings : 0 Warnings
Number of posts : 56
Registration date : 2011-06-07

Back to top Go down

Re: An Idol Soldier (Widower)

Post by The Widower on September 16th 2012, 5:10 am



There was a parallel there, for Audrey himself wanted to walk away and never remember this encounter. Something he often did not do, for every encounter with a super meant more knowledge for him on the topic at hand. He would probably never be fully able to comprehend whatever sorrow Reiko was feeling to a stranger. To himself, he believed that strangers were not supposed to be showed true feelings, for that could make or break a relationship, or even create some form of attachment between yourself and another person. Emotional attachment was not something that was good in a killer, because showing pity could mean death. Audrey was already pushing himself by putting away the gun, and he could hear Michelle asking him why in the world he had put her away. Normally, his hatred, as boundless as the depths of space, would have driven him to shoot the girl on the spot, and he was still questioning why he didn’t do so. Still questioning why he was letting this girl touch his face that way.

He was uncomfortable with the touching, definitely. He felt the need to just shove her away, but in the end, didn’t, because even the smallest triggers could make someone get hostile again. He was definitely the type that got hostile over small things, so to him, he believed that when approaching something dangerous, they had to be treated delicately and with care. Possibly akin to walking on some sort of minefield. It took a lot of effort for him to keep his breathing steady as she ran her fingers over his face, holding in that burning need to shove her away and make a break for it. Deep breaths. That was always what he did to try and calm himself down and stop the tension within his muscles. There was that tingly, ghosting feeling of the girl’s fingers on his face, even after she had moved to touch some other part of his face. The feeling that made him want to scratch the top layer of skin off of his face and cleanse it with acid. He restrained himself, though, because he would not be a gentleman if he outwardly showed his distaste for physical contact.

What could be considered a monster in the terms of society, anyway? In life there is bound to be conflicting views, it all just depended on which one stuck as a description. What constituted as monstrous behaviour was beyond even Audrey’s comprehension. There was nothing monstrous about what he did in his eyes, but in the eyes of the media, or whatever idealist in the world, he must have been seen as some sort of psychopathic fiend of humanity. He was probably marked as a devious criminal, committing treason or creating anarchy throughout the world. He didn’t believe any of those labels, though. He was what he chose to be, and whatever they wanted him to be, he never wanted to become in the public’s eyes. Many might have caved into the pressure of conforming into these stereotypes of bad and good, but there was just so much more under the surface. So much more that could not be seen by the naked eye.

Fighting was definitely something that was not dependent on raw strength alone. It was knowing how to use your surroundings to your advantage, and knowing what worked best for you. Sometimes, people depended too much on one sense, and one sense alone, that taking away that sense would throw them off balance. Audrey himself had practiced multiple ways to heighten his senses. He knew that in low light, or in complete darkness, one could not rely on sight; one had to be able to adapt and understand sounds well enough to know where to kick or when to dodge. Though, Audrey had near perfect vision, so the inability to see was something that still hindered him slightly in fighting. He knew what to do, yes, but even the smallest light would distract his eyes, and divert his focus away from fighting.

Audrey was never one to care about what people thought of his physical appearance, being the introverted recluse that he was. They could see him as what they wanted, attractive or not, and he still wouldn’t really have enough shits to give about it. Of course, Reiko bringing her face closer to him was something he did not expect. Was touching his face not enough for this girl? His whole body tensed again, feeling wholeheartedly awkward by this girl’s closeness. Even her touches were making him feel more and more awkward, not that he showed it visibly. It was more of an inside thing for himself. While this girl was doing whatever she was doing, his eyes did not waver from looking at the girl. He did not understand what compelled the girl to touch his face in such a way that seemed like searching. He took into consideration that this girl could have some sort of disability that hampered her eyesight. He, however, did not know for sure, or if the girl was just strange and wanted to know whatever features lay behind the cloth on his face. Though, he was sure that she could have just as easily pulled it off. That would have been more preferable on Audrey’s side, and his uncomfortability around physical contact and closeness outside of battle. He preferred guns for that reason too, and the ability to kill people from afar without getting his hands dirty.

He had no idea why the girl had frowned, because he was sure that he hadn’t done anything to disturb her, no matter how much he was aching to move her hand away from his face. Then again, scars were just like memories left on the skin, there to remind you of whatever terror that had caused the scarring. Scars, of course, were not just built up on the skin, they were built up in the mind as well, and Audrey did have his fair share of scares, physically and mentally. His face, however, was safe from whatever harm that the rest of him had gotten to. Maybe that alone was him symbolising outer beauty and a rotten inside. Another reminder of just how grotesque a rose was.

The hug made him tense even more, and confused his very insight of how a human was supposed to react to a stranger who had just pointed a gun to them. It was something that shocked him so much that he took a sharp breath in and held it. A hug from a stranger was definitely something mentally straining for him, because he just could not comprehend what was going on in that moment of time. He didn’t know if what this girl was saying was true, but even if it was, he refused to believe it. There was no way he needed help, nor did he need the support of any other person, that was just ridiculous and just extra baggage for him. “I don’t need anyone to give a damn about me.” he said after a long moment of silence. He wanted to say ‘Especially not from you or any other super’, but his throat closed up on him. It was just his body telling him that the situation was too awkward for speaking, so he stood there all tense, just waiting for the girl to stop and fill whatever hug quota she seemed to be filling.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The Widower
Spoiler:
avatar
The Widower

Male
Status :
Online
Offline

Quote : "Insert Quote from Character Here" or etc.

Warnings : 0 Warnings
Number of posts : 48
Registration date : 2012-08-27

Back to top Go down

Re: An Idol Soldier (Widower)

Post by Brass on September 16th 2012, 6:53 am

And yet again there was no emotion from this man. If he hadn't figured it out yet the fact that he wasn't showing much of a response was only feeding her. The fact that he just sat there like a knot on a log was just more indications that he needed her kind of help. Yet, again, she didn't even remember this man's name. Well, she could remember it but a label was all that a name was. It was the person she was currently caring for. Many could not see past a mask or a face like she could. The reason why she was so good at brawling was because she understood many people. The good, the bad and the ugly were no strangers to her. At the same time there were many mysteries about this person that she just wanted to know. The good stuff about him would have to wait. The evils and the stuff that kept a person up at night was what she was after.

The suit jacket got some love to as her hands rode up the back of the stranger. To recap, this was the same girl who had no problem with punching random people for the enjoyment that was lacking in her life. But somehow this man had changed her in just a matter of five minutes. She wouldn't dare lie and say that there wasn't some happiness being given to her as a result of someone allowing her to touch them for this long. No response meant this had to be awkward for the guy. She did not stop. She wouldn't let herself do that. Not this time. To her this person was just too important to throw away no matter how much she might have been freaking him out. Reiko was starting to amaze herself. For once she could petrify someone without having to beat a brain into non-responsiveness. There could be one time she could remember where somebody just stood still and let things happen naturally without super human abilities to force the issue.

"My vision wants to tell me that you are not a beautiful man but my hands call my eyes liars," she explained. To the super intelligent that was a dead give away. She could not see as well as she could feel. Giving up such information would normally mean danger for her and yet she didn't care this time. Something was telling her that he wouldn't harm her even if he were paid to do it. There was no way of her being absolutely correct on that but she had onto that thought. She had to. Reiko was nothing more than the child who never got a present for the holidays. That youth had to hold onto the belief that every year some overweight clown suited man would come down a chimney to implant a gift. No action figure was required at this moment. No amount of new clothes or shoes could give her what she was feeling now. This man hadn't said much or even moved much at all. He was like a mosquito with arthritis. And hark, he gave her the best present of all. Wasn't it clear? All she wanted was for somebody to listen to her. His lack of speech was only helping. Everybody just wanted to fight and nobody wanted to hear her out for a change.

The side of Reiko's head rested into his chest. She was just tall enough to make such a connection. His body, being bigger which automatically meant for insulation, was warmer and it was cold. Perhaps she shouldn't have worn this dress without any stockings to shield her legs from the oncoming night. "I don't know you and if you don't know me that's fine. I can live with that. But what I can't live with is not telling you everything about me. Maybe if you knew you'd think I was cool," she said, with more of a bubbly girlish voice behind the words. She let him go. Finally, her body was no longer in contact with his. This was just so she could reveal the Reiko this man probably didn't know of. It'd explain a lot about her. The insight could help or harm her case for befriending this person.

Reiko leaned down and waited for a bustling piece of newspaper to come flying her way. Her lack of superior vision was showing more and more. How in the world did she know where the paper would come to without some sort of advanced hearing that could have been the result in weakness of sight? Again, she'd never show this weakness to anybody else. So why reveal it to a man who, not too long ago, had every intention of killing her? It was a risk. Sometimes, in life, risks were necessary to achieve the ultimate goal; peace. A hand went out and she caught the newspaper. Every bit of this was similar to a fly hitting a spider's web. It was a perfect catch and she did it off of sound alone.

She opened up the newspaper. It was dark and she couldn't read the words. However, Reiko knew what the headlines read. It was referring to a young girl who managed to fight a group of neighborhood thugs. She smiled. She was proud of this. But if one were to scroll down the sectional some more the story was continued. That same hero managed to steal a purse while using the previous heroic deed as a distraction from the real goal. She frowned upon realizing that two and two had to be placed together. She was that person. No matter how she tried to become a better person she would always be the bad girl at heart or at least that was what she was limiting herself to. She was doing things by choice and not just because of a mental illness. Now? She was making the choice to be different.

"I've done things I can say that I regret. But ol' grandma used to say that changing is never easy for the samurai who has nothing to fight for. So I guess I need a reason to change and not just to better myself. Nobody does that. Know what I mean? We all know that fast food is terrible for us but we all eat it. We all know that smoking is bad too but we hang around it and we've all smoked something before. Ditto for drinking. But we don't change any of those things without a reason," she explained. She didn't want the man to read the article. After all, she was trying to be different. If he knew what she had done he may think badly of her. Then again, a person who just randomly hugs other person right after insulting them with harsh words could already have lost favor. She was hoping that wasn't the case. She needed a reason and she was hoping he could be that reason.

"I-I, well, not only do I not want to walk home alone I really don't want to be alone this evening either. Nobody wants to be alone. I think you could understand that. I think anybody could. The first step to rehabilitation starts with, well, a step," she said. Reiko reached a hand out. She didn't want to just force herself onto the guy again. She wanted his hand. That journey of a million did start with one step just as she said. And this? This would be more like lacing up the sneakers to be ready for that marathon run to a better life. "Will you take that step with me?" she asked. More like, she pleaded for him to do it.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
avatar
Brass

Female
Status :
Online
Offline

Quote : "Insert Quote from Character Here" or etc.

Warnings : 0 Warnings
Number of posts : 56
Registration date : 2011-06-07

Back to top Go down

Re: An Idol Soldier (Widower)

Post by The Widower on September 16th 2012, 10:05 am

Audrey was never the type to outwardly express any emotion. Sometimes he even doubted his own ability to conform to the social norms of the expectations of emotions. Unlike her, Audrey remembered her name, just as he remembered everything else about her. The way she spoke, the features of her face that defined her and made her different from any other person, and the way she seemed to behave in an unusually erratic manner. He always remembered a person’s attributes, because that often helped him when he needed to decide on a method choice of execution. It was often a question whether he should shoot them with a rifle, a normal revolver, or something a bit more, well, out there. He wanted to make sure when they were dead, they stayed dead, after all. What good would it be to fail an assassination? He kept questioning why he was letting this girl touch him, and he felt filthy about it. He was going to need to burn this suit too, along with so many other fine suits he had to burn due to his hatred of the thought of having residual people germs on it.

It didn’t help his situation when his suit jacket got more love and affection too. His back tensed at the girl’s touch, and it might have been possible to feel a bit of shaking from such a tense person. It was true that he never had contact with persons often, nor was it common for him to get hugs from complete strangers. The whole act of apparent kindness, compassion, or understanding left him more speechless than he usually was. It had never occurred to him the possibility of someone actually showing such closeness to him, despite him initially pointing a gun at the person. Every other person would panic, or retaliate. Being scolded and spoken to like a child was unexpected. And then she hugged him which he probably decided was some sort of sexual harassment. He felt absolutely horrible for letting any odd person he had just met hold him in such a way. To him, this was already considered edging on intimacy, for to him, even a simple handshake was something difficult to give. There was that burning need to shove her away, but still, his body refused to cooperate, apparently still trying to process the shock of physical contact. It really bothered him.

The statement about her vision solidified his assumptions on her ability to see. She did not seem blind, but apparently was close enough to blindness to have to use feel as a method of identification. Though, what bothered him more was the fact that he was referred to as ‘beautiful’ which was a term used towards him only by his wife. The thoughts of his wife just made the hug about ten times more uncomfortable than it already was, and he was just about ready to raise his arms and push the girl away. He felt like he was betraying his wife by letting something like this happen, but still, his arms did not respond, still too busy trying to register heat from a secondary source that wasn’t a radiator. Just as he felt as if his arms could finally move to push her away, Reiko went ahead to put her head on his chest, and now his heartbeat sped up in an almost panicked way. There it was again, his body refusing to accept his brain signals, and only now did he realise what true power this girl had. The only thing his body did, however, was remind him of his wife and of those better times before she had been brutally murdered.

He was extremely glad when she finally let go, finally feeling as if he could breathe properly. He raised his arms to dust himself off, then decided that his jacket was much beyond repair when it came to the germs of persons. He also felt the need to sanitise his hands too. Yet the girl’s offer was something he actually considered. Sometimes, curiosity got the better of him, and he just wanted to understand what went on in people’s heads. It was some sort of thirst for knowledge that he couldn’t help but have. Another reason why he preferred to assassinate from afar without actually ever talking to the victim was that he could do so with no remorse. Speaking to this girl, well, the girl speaking to him, just dehydrated his curiosity even further.

He did not show that much response to what she had done with the newspaper. That just assured him that she had good reflexes, and better senses due to a lack of sight. That was apparently what happened, after all. He did, however, look down curiously at the newspaper she was holding. It reminded him that he was very out of touch with the news, mostly for the fact he did not care for whatever scandals the news decided to broadcast or the papers decided to print. He thought for a moment whether skimming through newspapers could help him discover new super humans to hunt a bit more easily. Mass rampages tended to be recorded in the papers at least somewhere, right? Choices had to be made some point in everyone’s life, even the smallest ones like what shirt to wear out that day. Though, for some reasons, people always seemed to find a difficulty inlaid within choices. It was the fear of a choice leading off to an undesirable path that scared people, which often led people into the mundane routines of daily life, where no choices had to be made. That was probably the best way to describe Audrey’s life, after all, it had just become a routine. A lifeless, meaningless routine, for all meaning and life had left him just like his wife had.

Audrey just stood and listened to what the girl had to say. He knew how change was difficult, but change was the only constant in life. Without change, cities could not have developed; could not have progressed. Change was what created their world, after all, and change was what shaped a person into what they were in the present. When people found no reason to change, they didn’t change. Often like the black tar in a smoker’s lungs was seen as something unthreatening, no matter how many cases one sees in the papers of smokers dying of lung cancer. The only motivation for a smoker to change their ways was if something close to home happened, like a good old smoker pal’s life being taken by those cancer sticks, or a life threatening diagnosis in which they realise just how precious life was and how they were throwing it away. Even Audrey had his own drive to stop smoking back in the day, which was his wife’s distaste for cigarettes and their smell. He, however, did not understand what she was saying about needing a reason, nor why she was telling him out of all people she could have told. Then again, this girl was erratic enough in behaviour for him to decide that expecting the norm was expecting too much.

A journey always started with one step. One step at a time, was something people often said. Sometimes, things weren’t just about the answer or the final product, it was how you got there in the first place. Audrey’s brain tried to process what she was saying, trying to find what she was insinuating within all that she had said about change. He himself was definitely not the type of guy who was for change, for changing meant sometimes leaving other things behind. He spent quite some time staring at the offered hand in front of him. He was sceptical of this offer, and was not sure what trap this could lead him into. He barely knew this girl, after all, and now she was asking him to take a step with her. That was a lot for him to process in such a short period of time. Much too much for his socially inept brain. He couldn’t help but wonder why she had decided that nobody wanted to be alone. Audrey enjoyed being alone, and he did enjoy the solitude of his home with his guns. Alone was how he lived after the death of his wife, after all, and the only type of social interaction he craved was that with his long dead wife. Oh, how he missed her with all his bitter and resentful heart.

“I am not touching your hand.” he stated plainly, because he already had enough of the girl’s germs swarming in his suit jacket. He didn’t need any more in his hand. “I do not understand what you are taking that step towards, but my steps are towards that of a cleaner city. One without supers left to destroy it.” It was probably the only time where Audrey would openly state that he did not understand something. Most other times, he never felt the need to mention it out loud. “If our steps both go off on different tangents, then we are adjacent lines that meet once and will never meet again. If not, then I can walk with you until our roads must divert in different directions.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The Widower
Spoiler:
avatar
The Widower

Male
Status :
Online
Offline

Quote : "Insert Quote from Character Here" or etc.

Warnings : 0 Warnings
Number of posts : 48
Registration date : 2012-08-27

Back to top Go down

Re: An Idol Soldier (Widower)

Post by Brass on September 16th 2012, 10:27 pm

Rejection didn't go over too well with this girl. For most of her life there wasn't many cases where she wasn't outright turned down for an opportunity of a higher level of friendship but especially romance. She liked the guy. There was a way for some to know if a person was right for them just by a looking glance. This man turned her down and probably just made an enemy of her. Her mind was beginning to slow down to intake the high of being shot down. He might as well just shoot her. He did so with his words and not the gun. There wasn't much difference between the two to Reiko. Her heart was a fragile thing and it was easy for her to become vindictive against someone who she believed treated her wrong. Here she was giving away herself to someone she didn't even know and all they wanted to do was give her reason to not be with them? It was hurtful. Who could blame the man though? She acted weird and was deserving of rejection.

Her eyes went into a roll to mimic the tides of hatred. His words stabbed her in the heart. There was no middle road for this girl. Either someone liked her the same way or they were an enemy. Many people treated her the same way. Either she was normal or weird. People couldn't accept either version of Reiko and this man, in her mind, was only proving this to be even more true than before. She took the leap of faith of randomly showing affection to a person. She was always taught that if one showed affection and kindness good things would always happen. Reiko was never naive enough to believe that as everybody was different. However, the past twenty minutes or so would be one of those exceptions. This was different. But the results were disastrous.

Reiko considered that maybe her eccentric nature was to blame. However, she knew that she had a mental disability. She couldn't help the way that she was. Even if she wanted to change she couldn't. Therefore, if this man could not accept her for who she was then he had no other label than enemy. There was no other category for the man. After all, this whole encounter started with nothing more than a physical threat of a gunshot wound that could be fatal. She couldn't be surprised. She wanted to befriend the devil while acting like the angel. But Reiko remembered that even Satan was an angel at one point. Therefore, at the same time she was upset over the supposed rejection, there had to be a sense of still feeling sorry for this man. If she had been right all along it would not be surprising that he didn't want human interaction on a higher leveled plain.

"Look, Aubrey, I don't know what you have been through or what you're going to become. I'm upset. But I won't let that cloud my judgment. You're more than what you have become. You can tell yourself that you're at your highest potential but you say that in your mind. So, who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?" she asked. This was another insult towards this man but it was meant to make him think. Yet another assumption was thrown at him. The reactions he was giving was only feeding her to make more assumptions. His facial expressions was seemingly talking to her without physical movement from this man's lips.

Her eyes closed. She attempted to soak in all the supposed body language he was showing. Martial artists were well known for not only fighting well but reading people. One could not fight very well without knowing an opponent. She wrestled not with a physical opponent but one with some cunning and dodging intentions. If this man were open he'd be telling her something about himself other than outright rejection of Reiko's personality. Both eyes opened. She smiled again. The personality changes would have become more apparent. She seemed to be going through mood swings like some women went through clothing styles quickly to impress friends.

"There is hope for you Aubrey. Yes, there is. And that's the part that I think I'll end up loving the most about you," she pointed out.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
avatar
Brass

Female
Status :
Online
Offline

Quote : "Insert Quote from Character Here" or etc.

Warnings : 0 Warnings
Number of posts : 56
Registration date : 2011-06-07

Back to top Go down

Re: An Idol Soldier (Widower)

Post by The Widower on September 18th 2012, 8:43 am

For this man, he had not realised any rejection taking place. For him, he was just stating his views and his opinions about the girl’s offer. Then again, this was a rich man who often never got rejected, and never truly understood the human emotions that came with rejection a lot of the time. Audrey himself did not understand a lot about the basics of friendships. He had had fleeting school mates, but they were nothing really to him. He had never had any emotional attachment to any person other than his Jennifer. He had no true understanding of the fragility of a heart, for to him a heart was an organ used to pump blood around the body. A muscle meant for beating, not feeling. Emotions were supposed to be dealt with in the brain, after all. He did not understand the delicateness of the heart was something akin to a flower; easily crushed and easily torn apart. Though, it all depended on the type of flower it was, in the end. Audrey would never understand why people would think he had treated them wrongly, for he just treated each and every person the way he thought they should be treated. Often, that was with a steady mind, unless they were a super. Then they would be treated with harsh words and a lack of remorse.

He continued to look at the girl, silently, for the most part. Words were often saved for insults, or for more important people. Though people often tended to categorise things as they saw it, and Audrey was the same. He had a wide spectrum of neutral and a tiny section at the end for actual liking. Unadulterated loathing was saved for the super humaned beings that had killed his wife. He was already thoroughly shocked by this show of affection from a stranger. He never expected kindness from anyone but himself, for he was the type of person who preferred not to have to depend on anyone. He did not want to fall into the trap of being held back by the thought of another person. He was on a mission to rid the world of supers, after all, and people or ‘friends’ and what not would just pose as a distraction, a hinderance, from his main focus. He did not want his attention diverted away from his goal of a clean, super human-less city.

Then again what were words other than vessels for feelings emitted through sounds? That’s what Audrey saw them as, so he would rather limit his usage of it. Words were needles, sometimes laced with poison made from anger or hatred. It was these needles that often pricked the skin, but it would be up to the recipient of said pricks to decide how painful or how deep these needles really were. Though, nobody could judge or take for granted the pain of a single prick, really. There was a saying, that said to ‘be kind, because every person you meet is fighting a hard battle’, and it was something that Audrey tried to understand. Though, kindness was not something he was necessarily good at. Maybe his bitter and resentful heart was just never meant for such high octane emotions. It did occur to him, that maybe, just maybe, this girl knew that quote and was acting on it, deciding that he had a hard battle to fight.

Nobody could help who they were, they were all mostly born that way. Like how Audrey was born as a quiet recluse that never understood emotions, Reiko was born the eccentric little girl that she was. Audrey preferred, however, to judge the likeability of a person not through their attitude or personality, but whether they were super human or not. Sure, the attitude sometimes came to play a big part in his judgement, but more often than not, it was used for first impressions, and then disregarded for the fact he does not care enough about it. Either that, or they were used to determine behavioural patterns for hunting. In the chain of being, what were humans but incharitable dogs, looking up to the sky for answers to their long lost questions. Angels stood above humanity, and yet, as shown through Lucifer, could easily be damned into an existence at the very bottom of the chain. Were angels and devils even meant to interact in ways outside of hatred or detestment? Who knew, but more often than not, the damned were never shown compassion, for they had brought hell upon themselves.

More assumptions and laced insults. Audrey had to stop himself from pulling a face at the girl’s use of ‘Aubrey’. That was a name he hadn’t actually heard being said in a long time, ever since he decided to take on the Alias of Audrey Campbell instead. Then again, he didn’t truly mind it, because Aubrey and Audrey had barely any difference, and sounded similar anyway. That was possibly one reason why he chose a name that was often associated to, well, females. Though, what Reiko had said did beg the question, who was he trying to convince anyway? Or maybe whether he was trying to convince anyone anything at all. There was one thing for sure, and that was he was on a plan to avenge his wife’s brutal murder. Though, his eyes said a lot of things as he continued to watch the girl. It might have been hard to place, but there were a lot of swimming questions behind those blue eyes of his. A lot of questions that would go unasked, despite his thirst for answers.

Audrey did little to show bodily gestures, other than tensing when things bothered him, and relaxing again. Other than that, he stood straight and strong, keeping his posture to the best that he could. Though, sometimes it were the mental challenges that really showed who the true superior champion was. What was a game without a strategy, right? So many games in life depended on strategies, and sometimes, life itself depended on a strategy or two. Reiko’s mood swing did little to surprise him, but it was something to note down mentally for future reference. Erratic, unpredictable mood swings often meant erratic, unpredictable movements, after all.

“Is there truly hope or are you blinded by expectations?” he asked, “Then again, we are both tangents off the same circle. Shells picked off the same beach. Matches from the same box. I have the same amount of hope of being picked up or used as you do.” This was Audrey’s cryptic way of insinuating that there was hope for Reiko as well, through metaphors and more metaphors. What better way was there to express oneself other than metaphors, after all.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The Widower
Spoiler:
avatar
The Widower

Male
Status :
Online
Offline

Quote : "Insert Quote from Character Here" or etc.

Warnings : 0 Warnings
Number of posts : 48
Registration date : 2012-08-27

Back to top Go down

View previous topic View next topic Back to top

- Similar topics

 
Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum