Underworld || Part 1a/?
anonymous
July 30 2010, 21:19:40 UTC
AN: First part of most likely many. :D Hope you enjoy. China isn't here yet, but he should turn up very soon!
It was a dingy little room, tucked away in a squalid backalley just off the bustling city streets. A river of festering sewage ran along the open gutter, and mixed in with the miasma of cum and blood. Children played loudly, clothes hanging off their emaciated frames, bare feet encrusted with filth; shoes were a luxury in the underworlds. Huddles of clothes gave rattling breaths, the sound of Death’s eager hand encroaching. It was a dank, fetid slum, but hidden away behind an inconspicuous wooden door, lay the world that so entranced man.
The Frenchman smirked, and took a drag of the cigarette held delicately between his long, yellowed fingers. Kiku coughed politely, as the smoke rose into the musty air, covering his mouth as his eyes watered. The Frenchman gave him a long hard stare, eyes dancing over Kiku’s small body, before stubbing his cigarette out on the desk, and flicking the butt lazily across the room.
“So,” he drawled, eyes still roaming around Kiku’s frame. “You’re the one I’ve been waiting for all day.”
“I presume so,” Kiku replied.
The man snickered, lighting another cigarette from the candle on his desk, casting light over his face, and leaving the rest of the room in shadows. “Yes, yes I would think you are. You’re just as... exotic as I imagined.”
Kiku started, shocked at the man’s bluntness. “Um... thank you, sir.”
“Yes, yes,” the Frenchman purred, running a hand through his flaxen hair. “I assume you are prepared for your stay here?” He indicated the small bundle that contained all of Kiku’s meager possessions.
“Yes, sir.” His voice wavered slightly as he spoke.
The Frenchman smiled, obviously noticing the waver. “I wouldn’t worry, my dear. It gives you wrinkles, and you’ll no longer be attractive. You’ll be fine; the men will eat you up.” He chuckled slightly at this, and went on.
“You will have your own room, of course, to hold your meetings in, and you will of course be paid enough for food. You are permitted to leave during the day for a few hours, but we have eyes everywhere so I wouldn’t recommend straying too far. I will of course have one of the elder boys... mentor you for a few weeks, I think, so you can find your feet.”
Kiku nodded silently. Outwardly, he appeared placid, but inside his mind was reeling. What was he getting himself into? Why had he decided that this was the best option for him?
A shout came from behind a large curtain off to the side of the room. The Frenchman started, already halfway out of his seat, before he seemed to relax. Getting up from behind the desk, Kiku was startled to see how much taller he was than him. The man crossed the room over to the curtain, and turned back towards Kiku.
“I’ll see that someone takes you down there, and gets you settled. Ah- Arthur!”
Underworld || Part 1b/?
anonymous
July 30 2010, 21:21:19 UTC
Kiku wheeled around, and came face to face with a man, who had just entered. He was of average height, shorter than the Frenchman, but taller than Kiku’s own small frame. His sandy blond hair was windswept and untidy, green eyes hardened, yet inquisitive. Despite his lowly status, he dressed well, in a neat yet practical suit, waistcoat undone, and revealing his washboard abdomen, and he stood proud and regal infront of them, although the set of his shoulders displayed the weariness he was desperate to hide.
“Yes, Mr Francis?” he said, green eyes flashing angrily below his strangely large eyebrows.
The Frenchman’s demeanor seemed to change at his presence, and his face grew stony, as his eyes bore into Arthur’s. When he finally spoke it was flippant, as though his interest was no longer in this meeting. “Fresh meat here. See that he gets settled in. Hand him off to Yao, he’ll know what to do.”
Arthur’s scowl deepened, as he looked Kiku up and down, taking in his rather ragged dress. His eyes hovered a fraction of a second too long over Kiku’s shoes, widening by a barely noticeable amount, before snapping back towards Francis.
“Of course, Mr Francis,” he said, and Kiku could just make out the unconcealed malice dripping off his words.
He turned to Kiku. “C’mon then,” he said morosely, and gestured towards a barely noticeable trapdoor in the corner. Kiku stared, eyes wide in surprise. He was going to be living down there?
Pulling himself together, Kiku followed Arthur’s retreating back, as Arthur wrenched open the trapdoor, revealing a vast, dark chasm below. A single, ropey looking ladder descended, disappearing into the black depths.
Arthur started climbing carefully down the ladder; it creaked quietly as he descended. Kiku hurried after him. He had no sooner put one foot on the rungs, when Francis called his name.
“Kiku?”
Kiku looked up at the voice, startled. Francis had paused before drawing back the curtain, turning back towards him. His eyes glinted in the candlelight, as he purred softly.
hhlhldjalfjklsdfjlksfh yay! Waaa thank you! That setting is in my mind now o_o and yay Francis! H-hah his hands... I don't know why I liked that description so much. AND ARTHUR! Enjoying muchly; and can't wait to see Yao ^^
Underworld || Part 2a/?
anonymous
August 1 2010, 21:23:11 UTC
As Kiku descended the ladder, into the depths below, it struck him how the noise of the bustling streets above became quieter and quieter, the further down he climbed. It felt as though the rooms were off in their own separate world, away from everything else, the hustle and bustle of everyday life. It was dark, too, he realised, as his foot slipped from a rung and he was forced to catch himself, the only light coming from the room above.
A thump alerted him to Arthur’s position, and he looked down to find that Arthur was staring back up at him, eyes dancing with anger, sour expression still on his face. Kiku blushed, scrambling the rest of the way down sheepishly, cowering under Arthur’s rock hard stare. Arthur merely sighed in reply, and spun around, stomping moodily away towards a barely noticeable glimmer of light. Hurrying to catch up, Kiku tripped over a small rock. letting out an undignified squeal, and eliciting a glare from his companion. The light was getting brighter, the further they trudged, and Kiku’s heart pounded in his ears, the constant beat like a timer, ticking down to the moment his life would change forever.
They reached a large wooden door, towering over both men in a menacing way. Arthur seemed unfazed by the intimidating manner, however, and grabbed hold of the rusting door handle, giving it such an almighty tug that Kiku could see the muscles in his arms straining, strong hands clutching the handle so hard, his blue veins stood out. The door stuttered open, creaking loudly with the sound of hinges that hadn’t been oiled for decades. Holding open the door, Arthur gestured sarcastically with a single arm for Kiku to enter.
Gingerly, Kiku stepped forward, and found himself inside a room. It was a small, dingy room, air thick with the stench of opium and barbiturates.A stifling layer of smoke gave everything in the room a greyish, depressed tinge. Rich carpets littered the ground, covering chairs, and rugs, providing some sort of washed out colour. There was a single table off to one side, holding a single candelabra, the only source of light in the room. Only a few people were in the room; two men, a blond and a brunette were off to one side, heads together and whispering quietly. Occasionally the blond would let out a stifled giggle , before being quickly shushed by his friend. Huddled in a corner, barely visible underneath a blanket, lay another blond, younger even than Kiku: he couldn’t be much older than 18, with curly hair, staring at a piece of paper; another, darker haired, pushed his spectacles up his nose, as he drummed his fingers on the table, as though playing an invisible piano. Two more, twins, sprawled on the floor; they were all so fascinating to watch, just...
A cough came from behind, and he turned to see Arthur standing behind him, a vaguely amused expression on his face, arms folded.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, raising an overly large eyebrow. “Forget ‘em. They don’t give a shit about you.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You’re nothing special. Exotic, sure. Must get a lot of things handed to you on a plate for that. But special? Nah, you’re nothing we ain’t seen before. No-one’s special.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
Arthur gave a mirthless chuckle. “Forget it. You’ll soon learn.” He started moving off again, and Kiku had to practically jog to catch up. “C’mon. Your room’s down here.”
Underworld || Part 2b/?
anonymous
August 1 2010, 21:24:14 UTC
Kiku followed Arthur down into another series of tunnels, this one thinner, lower. Every now and again a room, hidden from view by a partition. The two walked in a stony silence, neither willing to speak to the other, until they reached the end of the tunnel, where two rooms were present, one covered by a tiger tapestry, the other simply by brown cloth.
Arthur indicated the one on the left. “This one’s yours. Enjoy.”
He turned away, and left Kiku staring at his new home, pulling back the cloth that partitioned it. It was small, only a single bed, with a straw stuffed mattress, made even barer by the lack of personal effects. Kiku sighed, and tossed his bundle on the bed. There. Now it was a home. He felt like crying. Now, it seemed, he was finally reduced to this.
In a sudden loss of control, he slammed his fist into the wall of the tunnel, and swore, as the place rattled with the force. It was obviously not as well constructed as it had seemed. Dust from the ceiling rained down on him, coating his only shirt with dust and muck. He felt like crying.
A noise behind him alerted him to movement, and he turned just in time to see the tiger tapestry pulled away slowly, by small, gentle finger, almost a caress.
It was a dingy little room, tucked away in a squalid backalley just off the bustling city streets. A river of festering sewage ran along the open gutter, and mixed in with the miasma of cum and blood. Children played loudly, clothes hanging off their emaciated frames, bare feet encrusted with filth; shoes were a luxury in the underworlds. Huddles of clothes gave rattling breaths, the sound of Death’s eager hand encroaching. It was a dank, fetid slum, but hidden away behind an inconspicuous wooden door, lay the world that so entranced man.
The Frenchman smirked, and took a drag of the cigarette held delicately between his long, yellowed fingers. Kiku coughed politely, as the smoke rose into the musty air, covering his mouth as his eyes watered. The Frenchman gave him a long hard stare, eyes dancing over Kiku’s small body, before stubbing his cigarette out on the desk, and flicking the butt lazily across the room.
“So,” he drawled, eyes still roaming around Kiku’s frame. “You’re the one I’ve been waiting for all day.”
“I presume so,” Kiku replied.
The man snickered, lighting another cigarette from the candle on his desk, casting light over his face, and leaving the rest of the room in shadows. “Yes, yes I would think you are. You’re just as... exotic as I imagined.”
Kiku started, shocked at the man’s bluntness. “Um... thank you, sir.”
“Yes, yes,” the Frenchman purred, running a hand through his flaxen hair. “I assume you are prepared for your stay here?” He indicated the small bundle that contained all of Kiku’s meager possessions.
“Yes, sir.” His voice wavered slightly as he spoke.
The Frenchman smiled, obviously noticing the waver. “I wouldn’t worry, my dear. It gives you wrinkles, and you’ll no longer be attractive. You’ll be fine; the men will eat you up.” He chuckled slightly at this, and went on.
“You will have your own room, of course, to hold your meetings in, and you will of course be paid enough for food. You are permitted to leave during the day for a few hours, but we have eyes everywhere so I wouldn’t recommend straying too far. I will of course have one of the elder boys... mentor you for a few weeks, I think, so you can find your feet.”
Kiku nodded silently. Outwardly, he appeared placid, but inside his mind was reeling. What was he getting himself into? Why had he decided that this was the best option for him?
A shout came from behind a large curtain off to the side of the room. The Frenchman started, already halfway out of his seat, before he seemed to relax. Getting up from behind the desk, Kiku was startled to see how much taller he was than him. The man crossed the room over to the curtain, and turned back towards Kiku.
“I’ll see that someone takes you down there, and gets you settled. Ah- Arthur!”
Reply
Kiku wheeled around, and came face to face with a man, who had just entered. He was of average height, shorter than the Frenchman, but taller than Kiku’s own small frame. His sandy blond hair was windswept and untidy, green eyes hardened, yet inquisitive. Despite his lowly status, he dressed well, in a neat yet practical suit, waistcoat undone, and revealing his washboard abdomen, and he stood proud and regal infront of them, although the set of his shoulders displayed the weariness he was desperate to hide.
“Yes, Mr Francis?” he said, green eyes flashing angrily below his strangely large eyebrows.
The Frenchman’s demeanor seemed to change at his presence, and his face grew stony, as his eyes bore into Arthur’s. When he finally spoke it was flippant, as though his interest was no longer in this meeting. “Fresh meat here. See that he gets settled in. Hand him off to Yao, he’ll know what to do.”
Arthur’s scowl deepened, as he looked Kiku up and down, taking in his rather ragged dress. His eyes hovered a fraction of a second too long over Kiku’s shoes, widening by a barely noticeable amount, before snapping back towards Francis.
“Of course, Mr Francis,” he said, and Kiku could just make out the unconcealed malice dripping off his words.
He turned to Kiku. “C’mon then,” he said morosely, and gestured towards a barely noticeable trapdoor in the corner. Kiku stared, eyes wide in surprise. He was going to be living down there?
Pulling himself together, Kiku followed Arthur’s retreating back, as Arthur wrenched open the trapdoor, revealing a vast, dark chasm below. A single, ropey looking ladder descended, disappearing into the black depths.
Arthur started climbing carefully down the ladder; it creaked quietly as he descended. Kiku hurried after him. He had no sooner put one foot on the rungs, when Francis called his name.
“Kiku?”
Kiku looked up at the voice, startled. Francis had paused before drawing back the curtain, turning back towards him. His eyes glinted in the candlelight, as he purred softly.
“Welcome to the underworld.”
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Oh god I can't wait for the rest. /bounces in seat
Reply
...
/squeals in happiness
/flails more
hhlhldjalfjklsdfjlksfh yay! Waaa thank you! That setting is in my mind now o_o and yay Francis! H-hah his hands... I don't know why I liked that description so much. AND ARTHUR! Enjoying muchly; and can't wait to see Yao ^^
Reply
A thump alerted him to Arthur’s position, and he looked down to find that Arthur was staring back up at him, eyes dancing with anger, sour expression still on his face. Kiku blushed, scrambling the rest of the way down sheepishly, cowering under Arthur’s rock hard stare. Arthur merely sighed in reply, and spun around, stomping moodily away towards a barely noticeable glimmer of light. Hurrying to catch up, Kiku tripped over a small rock. letting out an undignified squeal, and eliciting a glare from his companion. The light was getting brighter, the further they trudged, and Kiku’s heart pounded in his ears, the constant beat like a timer, ticking down to the moment his life would change forever.
They reached a large wooden door, towering over both men in a menacing way. Arthur seemed unfazed by the intimidating manner, however, and grabbed hold of the rusting door handle, giving it such an almighty tug that Kiku could see the muscles in his arms straining, strong hands clutching the handle so hard, his blue veins stood out. The door stuttered open, creaking loudly with the sound of hinges that hadn’t been oiled for decades. Holding open the door, Arthur gestured sarcastically with a single arm for Kiku to enter.
Gingerly, Kiku stepped forward, and found himself inside a room. It was a small, dingy room, air thick with the stench of opium and barbiturates.A stifling layer of smoke gave everything in the room a greyish, depressed tinge. Rich carpets littered the ground, covering chairs, and rugs, providing some sort of washed out colour. There was a single table off to one side, holding a single candelabra, the only source of light in the room. Only a few people were in the room; two men, a blond and a brunette were off to one side, heads together and whispering quietly. Occasionally the blond would let out a stifled giggle , before being quickly shushed by his friend. Huddled in a corner, barely visible underneath a blanket, lay another blond, younger even than Kiku: he couldn’t be much older than 18, with curly hair, staring at a piece of paper; another, darker haired, pushed his spectacles up his nose, as he drummed his fingers on the table, as though playing an invisible piano. Two more, twins, sprawled on the floor; they were all so fascinating to watch, just...
A cough came from behind, and he turned to see Arthur standing behind him, a vaguely amused expression on his face, arms folded.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, raising an overly large eyebrow. “Forget ‘em. They don’t give a shit about you.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You’re nothing special. Exotic, sure. Must get a lot of things handed to you on a plate for that. But special? Nah, you’re nothing we ain’t seen before. No-one’s special.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
Arthur gave a mirthless chuckle. “Forget it. You’ll soon learn.” He started moving off again, and Kiku had to practically jog to catch up. “C’mon. Your room’s down here.”
Reply
Arthur indicated the one on the left. “This one’s yours. Enjoy.”
He turned away, and left Kiku staring at his new home, pulling back the cloth that partitioned it. It was small, only a single bed, with a straw stuffed mattress, made even barer by the lack of personal effects. Kiku sighed, and tossed his bundle on the bed. There. Now it was a home. He felt like crying. Now, it seemed, he was finally reduced to this.
In a sudden loss of control, he slammed his fist into the wall of the tunnel, and swore, as the place rattled with the force. It was obviously not as well constructed as it had seemed. Dust from the ceiling rained down on him, coating his only shirt with dust and muck. He felt like crying.
A noise behind him alerted him to movement, and he turned just in time to see the tiger tapestry pulled away slowly, by small, gentle finger, almost a caress.
And that was when he saw him.
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