Day : 38 Month : Tria Year : Year 81378 A gravel path wound its way out of the city, hemmed in on both sides by the ugly backs of shops and homes. Their clean-cut and fresh-scrubbed facades where a polar opposite to the crumbling brick and peeling paint presented to the walker of the path, a maroon-furred female dressed in little more than a sheer, form-fitting dress sashaying suggestively down the road. She held a small korad-skin purse in one dainty hand, her grasp loose and almost absent-minded. Kusemli would have a ball if someone tried to steal it... A small smirk graced the older pendragonÂ’s maw as she imaged the carnage; raising children, she hadnÂ’t had much time for a good brawl. When you took into account her twenty-some years of house arrest, it was a wonder the 47-year-old was in as good shape as she was. SheÂ’d caught a number of her sonÂ’s friends looking at her in a peculiar fashion, and as perverted as it sounded, she had loved every second of it. So she was in a rare mood for the day, despite using her anthroÂ’ form. She had bought herself a new set of lock picks, updated her store of underground gossip, and re-acquainted herself with some old friends. Not bad.
[in character] AUTO NAVIGATION: BLACKMARKET, BHIM INTELLIGENT LIFEFORMS DETECTED: 1 WITHIN THE 100 SQUArE FOOT PERIMETER Viberant electric colors flashed in the midday sunlight; her blue pelt melting with the heavens hovering above her. The tall pendragon looked around; her eyes blinked, but provided no moisture. She knew where she was, but she wasn't exactly sure. It was like her mind had a built-in navigation system, but surely, she believed she was 100% 'dragon.
[out of character] Jyrysek claims to be a 'dragon, but in reality, she's a robot. Just to let you know.
[in character] AUTO GREETING RESPONCE: ACTIVATED DICTIONARY: HELLO, HI, HOWDY, GREETINGS, SALUTATIONS RANDOM CHOISE: ACTIVATED <span style='color:red'>Salutations!</span> called JD, her lime opticals sparkling under the periwinkle sky. <span style='color:red'>I am not known to many, but to the few as Jyrysek,</span> she forced a weak smile, <span style='color:red'>JD for short.</span>
<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td>So sorry for not posting earlier, I was away last week ): I have yet to submit a profile for Rupy.</td></tr></table> <p align=justify> People had often mocked him as a nioti. They'd said such a noticeable 'dragon would never make a good thief, that he could be spotted too easily, and that no self respecting 'dragon would ever employ such a conspicuous 'dragon as himself, however well trained he might be. Rupynam would always listen absently, nodding sadly. But he would secretly smile, and, silently bidding his time, he'd think to himself "You all believe I'll never make it? Watch me." Well Rupy, now aged 1900, could confidently say they had all been wrong, and him right. His so called handicap had actually played to his advantage. He had grown up in the dark and lush forests of Gyakusatsu, where being a bright orange and yellow 'dragon was tantamount to a certain death. It was no mystery, then, that his so called friends and family had been quick to dissuade him when he had told them of his plans. But Rupynam, youngest brother of three robbers, son of two thieves and grandson to the most infamous bandit in those parts had not been willing to give up so easily. It wasn't his fault that, born of two dark 'dragons, he had somehow inherited his grandmother's flamboyent fur. Some claimed his parents had called him Rupynam, Bad Omen because of this. "Bad omen indeed..." thought Rupy as he silently made his way through the Market. What they hadn't thought of, though, was the fact that even though orange fur might prove to be a disadvantage in the forest or at night, it provided an almost perfect camouflage in the sand covered Black Market of Bhim. Scanning, his entourage for possible preys, he was quick to spot a seemingly defenseless middle aged 'dragon, loosely holding a purse in her paw. "This is too easy" he thought, an evil smile playing on his lips as he hid in the shadows, waiting.
The young pendragon's hyperactive mood indeed was noticable; <span style='color:red'>My mommy said Jyrysek was a long name, so she called me J.D.</span>, furthering the subject. Her 'mommy'? HISTORIC FILES OPEN: RETRIVED INFORMATION DOWNLOAD TOOK: 1 SECOND FOR 297 FILES RETRIVED 'MOMMY': CREATOR NAME HAS NOT BEEN SUBMITTED PROFILE: DELETED OF DYO, 45, 81378 There it was again... like a robot had taken over her mind. Like data and technollogy where scanning, flashig files through her mind. Now that she thought of it, she hadn't come in contact with her mother for a period of time.
[<span style='color:red'>out of character</span>] Meep. Shorreh Chuya. I was busy so I posted again before you did. :( Pease furgive meh. -begs- You too, Veyri.
Kusemli gave the odd pendragon a look of suspicion, her glacial eyes becoming harsh and distant. Her good mood instantly vanished, and the lush fur on the back of her neck bristled with alarm. The bright green female was... different, and in a way that unsettled the old mother. But she was just being foolish—there was nothing wrong with the dragon other than the odd coloration. Hell, she had dyed her hair orange just yesterday, though it washed off that night. There was nothing wrong. Nothing at all! After all, what could happen to her? She was nearly fifty. Not a lot could sneak up on her, and the sole time something did, she’d taken care of it. Unconsciously running her fingers over one of the scars on her side, Kusemli forced a toothy grin and greeted the other pendragon. “Hello... JD. Nice day, isn’t it?" she inquired merrily, deliberately not mentioning her name. (OOC: No problem! Better to have someone posting than none at all. I've been pretty busy myself... More homework this year.)
INFORMATION: SUMIDED NAME: PLEASE ENTER (UNRECORDED) ARTIFICIAL MEMORY TRACED NO FILES She forced a weak smile; bleached canines where a vivid, pearly white. <span style='color:red'>W'us your name?</span> Every fiber in her body tingled with antisipation and excitment.
<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td>No problem at all ^^ Sorry for the lateness, again. First day of chool -_-.</td></tr></table> He was in luck today. Not only was his new prey a seemingly harmless and elderly 'dragon, she was also distracted, making her the perfect victim of theft. Rupy almost felt qualms at robbing such a defenseless creature, when he, himself, was youthful and strong. Almost. Curious to hear what the two 'dragons were saying to each other, the bright 'dragon nimbly crept out of the shadow, only to leap noiselessly into the darkness again mere seconds later. His fiery eyes gleamed with relish as he approached the pair, careful as not to be seen by any. Rupynam was soon within earshot of them, still out of sight. A familiar smirk crept into his features as he observed in silence.
Kusemli narrowed her eyes, scanning the odd pendragon again. She didn't trust JD. Something had set the fur on the back of her neck bristling, and though there was nothing visibly wrong or hostile about the younger female, the lock pick had learned to trust her instincts. And there was a strange small wafting around... This was a busy urban area, sure, but unless her nose was decieving her, there was at least one more pendragon in the area. Maybe more. But what had she to lose by giving her name? Anonymity, sure, but without a fair amount of notoriety, she’d never land a job. At least, not one that was befitting of her advanced rank. “Kusemli Etuomeal. Master lock pick, at your service. If it has hinges, I can probably get it open."
It was all about being swift. Never seen, never caught. Whatever you do, don't hesitate. Any vaccilation is a weakness, a mistake and a possibly fatal one at that. Rupy knew this, as he also knew that if he didn't act soon, he might miss a good opportunity. He was currently out of job and lived off his daily pilfering, so missing an opportunity like that one was tantamount to not having dinner that night. 3, 2, 1... "Here we go..." Suddenly, out of the shadows, the orange 'dragon crept out into the blinding sun. Slowly and deliberately following the pair. Accelerating slightly so as to catch up but remain inconspicuous, he gave a furtive glance at his watch, feigning lateness. Passing his paw in his bright hair, tugging slightly out of mock frustration, he was soon just behind their step, careful to walk on his victim's side for a better escape. He could hear them very clearly now... “Kusemli Etuomeal..." he heard the older femme say. His eyebrows arched as he tried to remember where he had heard that name before. This was not good, this was not good at all... By the time the answer came, it was too late, he had gone on with his plan anyways and had quickly grasped the purse she held in her paw. As his slender fingers encircled the bag, he closed his eyes, slowly making prayers to a deity he didn't believe in. Kusemli Etuomeal. The Master lock pick. He had heard she ate petty thiefs like him for breakfast. "This is not good. This is not good at all."
Kusemli’s pupils expanded, swallowing up the ice-pale irises that ringed them. Time slowed, then almost stopped—all she saw was the bright orange pendragon, first out of the corner of her eyes, then standing beside her. His hands curled around her purse at first with brazen confidence, and then with fear. She was still known. The thought brought a smile to her lips that seemed bare millimeters from turning into a snarl. Her entire posture changed in an instant, switching from wary tenseness to the smooth, dance-like motions of a good warrior and even better thief. With a whip-like motion, the hand closest to the would-be pickpocket latched onto Rupy’s wrist, letting go of the purse. Her tail lashing behind her, she extended the claws on both hands. “What do we have here," she cooed, voice as smooth as polished steel and as sharp as the edge that went with it, “a little brigand looking to prey upon helpless old women? Beautiful old women, granted, but that makes it all the worse."
His vision was blurred and his ear drums were bursting with the realisation that all his dreams, which had seemed real only instants before, now came crashing to the floor. There was no way in Fronima he was getting out of this unscathed. Closing his eyes, Rupy slowly contemplated the limited options still open to him. Flight wasn't one of them... Perhaps he could lie his way out? No... She would know. But then again silence wasn't much of a solution either so he'd better get his at together soon. Silence was a good way of buy of buying time but how long could it last? "Doomed. I'm just doomed. This isn't good. At all." "I'm sorry Mrs Etuomeal, Ma'am. If I had know it was you... he finished weakly, hating himself for it.
Kusemli allowed a small smile to dance over her features. This day really was turning out better than she’d expected, especially after that late-nighter at the Academy. Granted, she didn’t feel especially merciful, but she had a full bag of money, a job, and a satisfactory reputation. Still... As much as she’d like to prolong Rupy’s agony, her muscles, unused to the fluid movements of her youth, were starting to tighten back up—something she’d have to work on. One must always keep loose and alert on a job; not doing so could lead to unpleasant results. The whipping of her tail slowed down as she extended her free hand towards the ground. The purse flew up into her grasp, jerked into the air as if pulled by a string. There was none, of course: not everything about the elderly weakened and degenerated as the years marched on. Telekinesis was quite useful, especially in her profession. “If you had known, you would’ve stayed the hell away, right?" she replied with a snide grin, her seemingly-good humor betrayed by the fact that her ears were pressed flat against her red-and-black streaked hair. “Unfortunately for the both of us, you didn’t. Fortunately for you, though, I really am in a decent mood. You won’t die today, but I would recommend that you carefully watch who you rob." She released him and went to turn away, but the garish pendragon would not get away so easily. She lurched back towards him, a snarl contorting her face into a death mask worthy of any weredragon. Milky-white claws extended in dark supplication towards him, aiming somewhere between the face and torso. She didn’t really care how deep or even if the hits landed—it was the effect she was looking for. The shock, the fear, the sinking feeling in the pit of her victim’s stomach as they saw the claws coming at them but had no way to block or dodge. She loved it.
Even as he struggled out of the blanket of fear that now smothered any rational thought he might have had, Rupy couldn't help but feel admiration for his formidable adversary as she retrieved the stolen purse. Amidst the internal chaos of his mind, his brain could barely register the meaning of her words... " I really am in a decent mood. You wonÂ’t die today, but I would recommend that you carefully watch who you rob." He knew those words should have been enough to cheer him up and yet he couldn't bring himself to relax, let alone smile. It just didn't feel right. Surely it couldn't be this easy? One could have ascribed his earlier actions to recklessness and irrationality but Rupynam was not idiot. No one got out of this kind of mess that easily. It was unheard of. He could smell a rat alright. And so he had expected the blow, and had tried to dodge mere seconds before it actually got him. Not that that had made much of a difference. Rupy let out a small yelp as he fell to the floor, his paws flying to his lacerated cheek and neck. He instinctively drew his claws, a ressentful hiss escaping his lips. Throwing his assailant a look of pure hatred, he relunctantly retracted them, clenching his fists out of frustration. How he would have loved to wipe that smirk out of her arrogant face! And how his claws itched to hit her, over and over, to make her experience the excruciating pain... Instead, scowling, he let his head hang in shame and submission as he felt his own blood trickle down his paws and chest.
Kusemli gave a sharp, if rather small, nod of satisfaction. She had her sadistic tendencies, and this more than fulfilled them. She started to walk away, totally ignoring the other pendragon—as far as the dark pendragon was concerned, her business there was concluded. She did, however, make a slit in her diaphanous dress with a claw and tore the thing off, so she could morph back to her four-legged form. It meant that she would need to carry the bag in her mouth, but the comfort of having four solid legs beneath her well out-weighed that particular disadvantage. A smarter pendragon (or at least a less arrogant one) might’ve been worried about the enemy she’d just created for herself. As a young man, he would only increase in skill, whereas she had pretty much hit her plateau, at least as far as her fighting skills went. Granted, her telekinesis skills would be increasing, but at a slow pace. But that was for the future, and the glaciar-eyed ‘dragon had always lived in the moment. Usually it was a bad thing, but it wasn’t like she cared.
Sullenly licking his bloody paws clean, Rupy observed his attacker as she simply nodded, her sadistic pleasure filling her hatefully attractive features. "Curse you." thought the youth bitterly as he tasted the equally bitter and salty taste of his own blood. She began to leave, without so much as a word or look, as though he were below even that. Rupy snarled at this, not sure how much more of these wounds his already damaged pride could take. He glared after her as homicidal, or suicidal - he wasn't quite sure which - thoughts began to fill his mind, tantalising him, willing him to get up, to show her the harm he was capable of inflicting... But what chances had he, a petty thief, against the reknowned Lock Pick? None. At all. None. He knew this perfectly well, and so when he found himself getting to his feet against his better judgement and silently following her, Rupy knew insanity had finally gotten a hold of him.
