The Teleportors Are Occupied Today [ACTION]
[Anyone who requires use of one of the city's many teleportors today will happen across a peculiar sight. For today, there is one man who is hogging the teleporting machines, and rather persistently at that
( Read more... )
Comments 73
The buildings aren't as good for hiding on as the ones in the Holy Land but he has a good spot although sometimes people just know when they are being studied with such great intent.]
Reply
He rises from the pavement, hat in hand, and examines the plaza. The hat he idly twirls, his brow furrowing hawkishly as his gaze sweeps over the nearby street signs. He pivots on his heels uncertainly, swiveling with decided mistrust and bewilderment back to the teleporting machine. He appraises it with a weary grimace, unsure of whether he is willing to instill full faith into such a ... dangerous technology. He is lost to his thoughts.
--But not for long.
The feeling, that implacable intuition bestowed upon him at birth, stirs sharply just when the hat returns to the top of his graying head. It is like the strike of a match at his guts, a ringing flash in the brain.
The stranger cranes his head way back and looks up. The magnet of a man locks eyes with a white hood ( ... )
Reply
Reply
It is all the more horrible a conclusion when Templars could be afoot. If there is ever a stereotype for that corrupt and vile organization, this upright, calm and fierce-faced savage seemed to fit it well at first glance.
The hooded figure backs out of sight before the man can call out to him or positively identify him. The man cranes his neck further, peering up beyond the rim of his hat to the sky, and searches the rooftops like a tiger searching the distant grasslands for a mouse.
There! He fully mouths the word to himself. Movement in the ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
And to think, Desmond might almost have been fooled into believing he was overlooked. Javert passed directly under the younger man, making a rather determined beeline for the next narrow alleyway. But just after he exits from beneath the far metal edge of the fire escape, he stops and hesitates, shoulders stiff and tense, his ear tilted almost imperceptibly upwards like a curious spaniel. The brim of his hat hides his expression, but if Desmond were to glimpse it, he would see a brow furrowed deeply in concentration and a marked scowl at his lip.]
All right! You can come down now! [he calls out suddenly without turning, his arms crossed tightly over his broad chest.] Do you think I can't hear you? You are the second man who's followed me from above today!
Reply
Well, he tried to, at least. Instead he ran into some douchebag with a stupid hat as the guy exited a teleporter without so much as a warning. Tony barely manages to keep hold of his bag, but he does let loose a few choice swear words.]
Reply
The aforementioned douchebag with a stupid hat teeters like a top heavy lamppost and just barely catches himself on the heels of his shiny, booted feet. His stupid hat is less than lucky. He had been holding it in his massive clutches ponderously when Tony and his grocery haul barreled into him. Now it is bent terribly out of shape, likely twisted during his struggle to catch himself before his fall.
The stranger reels back and straightens to his full, impressive height, flashing a brief contorted expression of surprise. He grimaces down at his poor hat, irritated, and thrusts a cold, probing stare at Tony Stark.]
Pardon! [cries the tall stranger over Tony's colorful language. His voice is deep, calmly annoyed, and lightly accented - European, more than likely. He sets about attempting to bend the hat back into its proper shape.
He continues with abandon, hardly missing a beat,] Pardon me! I did not see you there. My eyes passed straight over ( ... )
Reply
He shifts his bag of groceries to the side so he can better glare at the guy. And okay, maybe the short jokes were slightly accurate.] That's no excuse. Why don't you watch where the hell you're going, you idiot?
Reply
[Perhaps, with the passing of some time, Javert will realize that he is being unnecessarily testy to this stranger. Can he really be blamed for this? He had awoken only several hours ago in a new unrecognizable place, with unsettling new technologies, in a city he has yet to learn and know. To say that Javert is at the end of his frazzled nerves is an understatement. He may be convinced to apologize to Tony Stark later, once he has time to clear his head and cool off.
...
Maybe. If his ridiculous sense of honor wins out over haughty pride's ugly head.]
I suppose you are doing a fine job of looking out, then? With a big lug of a bag in your face?
Reply
[Heather doesn't need to go anywhere, rather she noticed his strange mission and has been watching for some time now. After a few minutes she figures it's time to say something]
Dude, what're you doing?
Reply
He is a man of about his middle fifties, graying at his temples and whiskers. He is definitely old-fashioned, by the looks of his state of dress, and a faint lopsided grimace twists at his thin lips. Overall, he is a rather forbidding and irreproachable sort of fellow, more closely resembling a bridled wolf than someone you want to make a friendly chatter with on the street.
The man furrows his brow.]
Learning, [he says abruptly, after a length. He thrusts his head sharply toward the teleporter, an odd and brusque gesture, his arms crossed over his chest.] About this machine.
[That stare of his is rather unsettling, when it refuses to budge from one's face. He purses his lips.]It ( ... )
Reply
[Wow she's eloquent]
Reply
...Yes, I recall saying that just a moment ago.
[The man grimaces and winces. This girl, whom he vaguely recognizes from his previous hell of a city, does strike him as somewhat changed. Though they both possess a hint of that dull wit, he had to admit. He thrusts a thumb sharply toward the teleporter behind him.]
Is this the only way to move around the city? What about carriages or ... [he pauses, frowning deeply, as he searches for the correct word--] automotives?
Reply
Reply
When the aptly-labeled half giant exits the machine, his eyes are glued to the spot on the ground where he left his prized (and quite expensive, on his salary) hat. What meets his searching gaze instead is a pair of unfamiliar legs, and tracing his way slowly and purposefully upwards, a man's torso and an impertinent-looking head sitting square atop a strong little neck. By the time his intense, curious, scorching stare reaches Gabriel's face, he resembles something of a ruffled beast, a grimace pushing his lower lip far enough up to reach the tip of his broad nose.
He tilts his head. There is no way in hell anyone could mistake that jutting square jaw as jaunty. He arches a single graying brow.]
Why! I see you have kept it safe for me, [the stranger observes. The tone is strange, calm, yet very, very deliberate. He holds out a massive hand expectantly with an unimpressed little smile] Your trick is done. Be a nice lad and give it here. I'll have it back now.
Reply
[He pauses then, wondering exactly if he could run off and take the hat (Alice might be suitably impressed by it) or if he could nip into the transporter without the tall man getting a hand on him. He doubts it, and frankly, he's probably recognisable enough to get into trouble for it anyway. Best hand it back.
But then he's called lad, just as he's taking the hat from his head ready to pass over, and that makes him laugh, laugh so hard that he almost wants to cry. No one has ever called him that before. How old does he look? His vessel is... well, he looks like he's late 30s if he's anything.] ( ... )
Reply
Remarkably, the grimace settles and wanes when he watches Gabriel burst into a fit of laughter. A chuckle at his own expense, he can handle quite patiently; he is rather assured that he doesn't look like a fool yet. But think of it this way, Gabriel: a small bit of patronizing often comes with men accustomed to belonging in a station of authority. It didn't matter if Gabriel were 15 or 45; this strange man probably would have used the word lad either way.]
Don't be silly. The trouble is not a lack of laws but of enforcement, [he says abruptly, a play of a pinch at the corner of his mouth. He plucks his hat back and inverts it, examining the inside rim with a faint spark of disgust. No lice, I hope, Gabriel.] A place with no laws, really? There is not enough anarchy that I can see. But I have seen plenty of cities ( ... )
Reply
Leave a comment