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#Post#: 194313--------------------------------------------------
Detroit MI
DIR By: Aesira
Date: May 31, 2012, 7:51 pm
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-Streets & Abandoned Areas-
The streets of Detroit are full of mischievous and dangerous
villains. All spectrum of filth live here in the under society
of the great city. Here is where people go, when they have no
option, or when they have the options, but love the idea of
treachery and violence. Many more demons rise here than angels;
more possessions and destruction than any of the other cities in
the world. This is not a place for the fearful or the sane.
Fires sprout from arson attacks; buildings constantly being
looted and robbed, while the police and government seem to just
let it all burn. Little is known about the structure of the
lower society's workings, but one things is for sure. Kingpins
and druglords run the game, and anyone who isnt their property,
works for them instead. If you tread here, you had better be
sure you want to be.
-Up-town & Residential Areas-
Here live the great businessmen; lawyers, CEO's, government
officials, and here rests some of the greatest liars in the
world. Demonic possession is common in the great cities
infrastructure, but angelic hosts often overpower their demonic
rivals in business means, and legal battles. Showing that good
vs evil exists on multiple levels there. Everyone lives in
constant fear of the despicable people in the under society, but
none would admit it. Buildings reach the sky, and the richest of
all men and women gather in their penthouse-watch tower homes.
Doing as only the wealthy and well off can do. Be lazy,
arrogant, and still remain in power.
Beyond the reach of the cities towering business sector; in the
largest portion of the city still, is the massive residential
area. Here millions live in their secluded suburbs, and fenced
off homes. Everyone seems to know a thousand people, and yet
running into someone accidentally is near impossible. Stores,
malls, businesses; everything is here in the most densely
populated place in the northern United States, and as such. Here
is where the most conflict rises. Many people start fights; many
more begin drama amongst their neighbors, but the law
enforcement, and government constantly step in and maintain
order. This is a world separated, and congregated. A law
abiding, near perfect community, of way too different people. A
melting pot waiting for one more explosive ingredient.
#Post#: 194331--------------------------------------------------
Re: Detroit MI
DIR By: Perfect
Date: May 31, 2012, 8:15 pm
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Alec sits down looking at the cake that his fake parents had
laid out before him. The called this their way of showing their
affection, he watched his fake father start to cut the cake only
to stop. "Oh I almost forgot" he leaves the dining area and
comes back with a giant 1 and 3 sticking the two into the cake.
He takes a lighter from fake mom's pocket and lights the
candles. Of course next came the stupid wish part of the whole
ceremony. He put on a fake smile blowing out the candles.
Every year he wished for the same thing. I wish for my parents
to come back to me as with every year he'd hope and pray for
them to come back. Unlike his fake parents lately Alec found
himself praying more then usual. He would pray to the heavens
that his father and mother were safe. But tonight his fake
parents had enough of their fake child praying to a fake god. At
least they believed it was a fake god.
"Let me in you damned child" the fake father was banging his
heavy meaty fist against the door. The sound of the wood
splintering echoes in Alec's ear. The man reaches into the door
and unlocks the door stumbling into the room. The scent of
alcohol lingering in the air, the man swings for his fake sons
head. Yet something happened, for a brief moment all stands
still. Alec looks at the mans fist, watching it move slowly he
moves out of the way.
Then it all speeds up again, the fake father flies through the
air crashing into the air. Alec feels an urge to leave, so he
does Alec runs away from the fake family. His young hand
gripping his cross that he found in his fathers study and runs.
He knew now that something was wrong with him. Now he has to run
away, to leave this life behind him.
#Post#: 194467--------------------------------------------------
Re: Detroit MI
DIR By: Sin
Date: May 31, 2012, 11:51 pm
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It had been what. close to a year since having drawn first
blood? Sin had never trul allowed himself to heal from that
realization, the true realization he had killed an innocent
animal and proven his mother correct in her banter. The azure
blue of his eyes gazed out in absolute darkness as a trim spare
light aimed to bead over the center of the rotted wood of the
only place Sin could call home. His body ached as he pushed to
raise to his feet and walk over with a weakened stride. His pale
lean body pressed against the open window and he slung his head
around to easily throw the ravenous mop of hair from his vision.
There was nothing new to see however; He took note of the women
and men smoking whatever drug tickled their fancy outside of the
bar just in the alley. His father and, of course mother had
always looked at this place as if it were the hellish slum of
society where only the devils children were born, and how
suiting it was; that he lived here in this slum of the city of
Detroit. Sin took in a simple breath of air and breathed it int
he next second, just happy to have a nicer taste of air than his
own rotted wood and BO.
It had been incredibly hard surviving in this hell hole since he
had arrived. His house was miles from here, and he hadn't even
heard of cops being called or anything. Of course he hadn't he
was easily the biggest curse of conception the woman had ever
had, as she had reminded him many a time. Still as he tore
himself from the window and back into the friendly darkness he
claimed his ally, his home.. He heard the subtle rumble that
echoed the hollow walls and looked down at his own stomach.. "
wonderful timing.." He grumbled and made his way to the door of
the room.
The halls were drenched in absolute slime from the vacancy the
house had suffered. Roach ridden and rotted filth seemed to
claim the walls with a musty odor that rivaled even his own.
Still he trembled his way through the halls as the darkness
about him seemed to almost shift and walk with him. The Stairs
creaked and groaned in absolute protest as he made his way down
and out the cellar door, the only exit and entrance he had found
for himself. "I have to survive." he grumbled almost as if he
were asking himself the question.
In reality he knew it even now as he stumbled into a bright
blinding sunlight. he wished he were dead.. his entire life
ended but... the truth of it was he was too much of a coward,
which was even more disappointing. Most lacked the true desire
of being dead, well he had that part covered but not the courage
to seal the deal. He pushed those thoughts aside however and
pushed onward to the dismal fate he had subconsciously chosen
for himself.
The few that had been smoking outside the bar were gone now, and
he was safe from most prying eyes, aside from the few porch
monkeys that would be enjoying their own pathetic endeavors. He
could smell the rot of the liquor int heir breath from even that
position, and even more so as he walked by them not even trying
to glance up at them. He had a spot he went, that came out each
tuesday; it was a hot dog stand that braved to set up just ont
he outskirts of the scum land, as he loathingly loved to call
it.
Sin actually wondered, if the man was half way sane or just
greedy as fuck. Of course he got robbed fairly often, normally
by Sin because the bigger fish had much more convenient places
to rob; Like convenient stores and what not. He almost expected
the man, had some hopeless ideal that he would be able to catch
a crummy dime off some of the local pond scum of the area, he
was of course horribly mistaken in that assumption. Hell it was
a surprise the man was still alive and not dead in a ditch
somewhere, without a hot dog to mention. It really didn't matter
though, It was time Sin was hungry, and unfortunatly he had to
survive. So for now he crept along the alley and watched the man
get ready to set up as he always did at this time. "Charge,
slide tip the cart grab the hot dogs before he can get them in
the oven, and run.." the same typical plan he always carried
out..
Words were useless however, Sin sprung to life the moment he
noticed the man set down the bag full of hot dogs. He was a
quick spring away and the man looked at him with wide eyes. Not
you again! he would cry, but it didn't stop Sin. "slide.." he
said in a subtle whisper to himself sliding right under neath
the mans cart his shadow followed and right as Sin emerged on
the other side a loud crash was heard. Sin reached out grabbing
the bag and took off as the cart tipped over with a loud crunch
and a harsh push. The owner cursed a few more words, and Sin
disappeared behind the cover of a few buildings, pressing his
lungs to catch up with the loss of breath...
"Home ........ free...."
#Post#: 194772--------------------------------------------------
Re: Detroit MI
DIR By: Devon
Date: June 1, 2012, 4:02 am
---------------------------------------------------------
"I swear... I would never" Devon pleaded and begged. His very
life on the line, as the four drug lords cornered him in an
abandoned warehouse and had him huddled in the corner. Two of
the dark clad figures were bosses of the local families, and two
were their personal soldiers. Gifted and dangerous shadow
workers that Devon wasnt sure if he could beat. He knew he could
outrun them if he had to, but in all honesty, he had no clue why
they were after him.
"I black out sir.. I swear... I would never steal from you" He
continued as a scared lamb before hungry lions, and his dark
brown eyes filled with fear. He was no immortal, but he was no
mere man either. But his gifts were obviously known to the four
men, as one carried a fire extinguisher, and one boss had an
actual bucket of water with him. There was no fighting his way
out of the situation.. He had to try and talk.. somehow.
"Ive always kinda blacked out.. and I dont know what happens
when I do... but I would never steal from you.. any of you.. Im
not stupid.. you have to believe me" His nerves were growing
steadily worse; his eyesight flickering as the panic threatened
to wash away any conscious thoughts, and as he saw the barrel of
a 45 rise to meet his head, once more he was out.
"Sir you have to understand.. if you would just look me in the
eyes and think... think... think......" His last word twisted in
the air; his patiently dimming brown eyes now a vibrant orange,
as Zamar once more asserted control, and Devon was left in the
darkness of his own mind. The sudden flux of eye color seemed to
be unnoticed as the leader; the man with the gun, stepped to the
side and held the gun to another of the men's head. The barrel
pressed into the flesh as the man smiled away and paid no mind
to his imminent death. As if he didnt care, or as if he didnt
know it was happening at all.
The revolver rocked back as a bullet tore through the shadow
manipulator and painted his life all over the second in the
line... yet the others paid it no mind. One was dead, the leader
was smiling, and the two others were standing and staring off
into their own imaginary world of perfection.
-click... BANG- Another round cleared the chamber, left the
barrel, and dropped a lifeless lump to the solid concrete floor.
Another dead man left to his endless dream. Another life taken,
and yet.. no one moved. Devon; now Zamar, stood slowly as the
last two men were left before him. He could have them kill each
other no doubt, but what fun would that be. Instead he wanted
them to squirm and die the most horrendous of deaths. He wanted
to witness their lives fading away with his own crimson eyes.
"You know you mortals really do amuse me... I wish I could
control more of you and watch how many victims succumb to my
will without ever knowing otherwise... How many would die in a
dream they never knew they were in?" Zamars hideous voice
scratched at the mind of his entranced and soon to be victims as
he walked around them and grinned. His malicious stare was
enough to tear at ones soul, but he had an entirely different
idea for these two unsuspecting crime lords.
As he traveled full circle around the patiently standing men,
one hand stretched out and touched the leaders face. The thin
nails at each fingertip dug small scarring lines into the flesh
as the man suddenly smiled and knelt. His eyes rolled back into
the sockets as a purely euphoric reality suddenly crashed over
him. Every fiber of his body was in the most wondrous state of
ecstasy imaginable, and yet the pain was unimaginable. He peeled
at his own skin; ripping it from the muscle as he silently
chewed through his tongue, and ripped out his own throat. Blood
ran from every wound he inflicted, and the whole time he simply
smiled and stared blindly ahead. No doubt witnessing whatever
his greatest desire was...
Zamar laughed as he crumbled and fell dead on the floor. The
pool of blood stretching out and out as if a river overrunning
its banks. Crimson stains ordained the floor their property, as
the foul demonic presence walked to the final man. This man had
yet to be touched by Zamar; only having witnessed his eyes in
action, and yet he was cracking. He twitched and moved
erratically; seemingly losing touch with his senses, as Zamar
stood back and watched. Time would be the culprit of this mans
death.. For every second Zamar pushed, was another moment where
the mans own senses let him down..
First came blindness; yet the man was unaware... Then came
deafness; still the man did not react, lest a slight twitch be
his tell in this horrendous game of poker.... Then his balance
fell away and his body smashed into the floor with a dull
thud... Nevertheless, the man did not falter from his dull stare
into the eternal void. Madness and paranoia now racking his
brain with waves of fear and confusion....
This was near the end of the mans life, and Zamar knew it to be
so... but he had to leave in case others showed up, and he was
in no need to witness another completely stricken by his power
die without so much as a drop of blood shed... He knew what
would happen, so he cared not to witness it, as he stole what
money he could from the three corpses and the soon to be corpse
and left. As he walked away from the horrid blood bath inside
the warehouse, one glance back was all he needed to gain a
smile. The last man lay dead; heart stopped, breath lost to him,
as his very body shut down and gave out without his control.
---Nine Hours Later---
Devon wakes in his one room flat in the downtown district of
Detroit. His hair is a mess; blood on his hands, and he has no
idea where his shirt is. Hell, he doesnt really remember where
he is when he wakes up, but seeing all of his belongings, he
assumes the wicked night before was just a dream. After all, he
had never seen those men before, and Zamar did well to hide his
tracks while using the young mans body. So Devon continued on
assuming; waking, eating, showering, and dressing for the day,
but he had a suspicion something wasnt right when he found a
large stash of money buried underneath a mountain of clothes...
He didnt want to be sure.. He didnt even want to think it... But
the fear was there, and that was enough to keep him on his toes
for at least a day or so......
#Post#: 195269--------------------------------------------------
Re: Detroit MI
DIR By: Dems Darkfire
Date: June 1, 2012, 9:10 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Donovan didn't fucking care, it wasn't in his nature to care. He
needed one thing and one thing only, and it always proved to be
himself. No one else helped him reach this point. From a lone
kid, to a sweatshop worker, and now, he owned a business and
lived on the ritz side of town, the upper banks of Detroit where
his house overlooked the city itself. The fucking scum that
lived downtown where nothing but free labor and workers that
provided him with means and money. Nothing could feel better
than being on top, and he knew it. Nothing pushed him down,
nothing came to him, he had foreman's and managers for those
problems. Donovan was tired of being that scum in the street, he
had served his time groveling for scraps and working like a dog
for undeserving swine who thought they where better than he was.
Donovan stood there, looking out over the city, his smile
curling up higher as he thought about everything.
Avacyn watched over Donovan, she had come to love the man that
she grew up with. Always watching over him, always keeping an
eye on his fortunes. No one knew the boy inside of the
diabolical man like Avacyn did. The other angels wondered why
she had chosen to protect and possess someone so merciless and
willing to step over so many people and she always told them the
same thing. "He's the same on the inside... Life made him this
way, no one can blame him for that." She told her self that
often, but in reality, the woman angel loved what she saw. She
loved the man she protected always. No one knew that, no one
could see the angels intentions.
Donovan was an interesting fellow, truly he was. Despite his
distaste for the city and the people living in it, he would have
nothing, he would be broke, he would still be an outcast of his
home town. No one knew him like the city did, but here he was,
making a living off the same city that loved him so,a real true
love hate relationship. He would bleed these baboons dry at one
point or another, one way, or another, he aimed to have the
entire city under his boot. Everything was going well enough.
Uhhhggghhh... He spoke inside of his head.
He felt sick again, his body failing him as he remember standing
in front of the window scowling at the city, and now here he
was, speaking well of the city. fuck Another inward curse at
himself as he lifted himself from the sitting position he had
found himself in, standing up. His black outs where becoming
worse, every time now, he could see the woman, a woman in white,
all white, surrounded in a blinding light. Between the use of
his alchemy and the ill effects slipping into his everyday life,
the last thing he needed was to continuously black out.
Donovan walked over to the counter in his kitchen, popping open
a pill bottle, and then another one, spilling two pills onto the
counter before popping both in his mouth, opening a bottled
water that sat next to the pill bottles, and draining down the
pills in two simple gulps, instantly feeling better. Maybe he
was going through a phase. It seemed like his mental state was
tearing him apart. "Fuck... FUCK FUCK!" He growled, his hands
glowing against the counter top as they became one with the
material, changing the counter itself and throwing it, releasing
it from his grasp and flinging it out of the window into his
yard, the shattered glass dropping to the ground as he punched
the intercom on the wall. "Dave... Find me someone... I need
anyone who can help with this bullshit. I'm losing it."
#Post#: 195869--------------------------------------------------
Re: Detroit MI
DIR By: Sin
Date: June 2, 2012, 5:25 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Even with capturing his goal, of substantial food Sin felt
slightly unsatisfied. Of course with as skinny as he was, his
hunger had been sated however something just did not seem right
at all with him. He wandered through the day, in a dark black
torn hoody and a dirty white wife beater. Baggy jeans made him
appear almost slummy, but he didn't care about any of that. For
now he was just going to wander. Wander on through the city
until he ran into something interesting. Maybe it would be
amusing, or dangerous... he couldn't know but something had to
happen walking the slummy streets of Slum world Detroit.
#Post#: 196428--------------------------------------------------
Re: Detroit MI
DIR By: Devon
Date: June 3, 2012, 12:44 am
---------------------------------------------------------
Devon stumbled across his massive flat; eyes searching for some
reminder of what (if anything) he needed to do today, but came
across nothing that sparked his interest or memory. He casually
made himself a pot of coffee and poured only one cup before
realizing he had no clue where his cellphone was. That damn
thing was his lifeline; his blood so to speak, and without he he
had no clue what a day held in store for him. His blackouts
always came with a price; a loss of time and a missing portion
of his memory, but his cellphone always seemed to know what
needed to be done. As if the damn thing programmed itself and he
knew nothing of it.
For years Devon had been having the horrid lapses in memory;
since his early teens actually, but only recently had it really
begun to bother him. IT seemed as though one day he was a simple
worker in the cities dirty under belly, and the next, he owned
nearly a dozen penthouse apartments, a few booked suites at the
most lavish hotels, and quite the extraordinary ranch style
house out by the suburbs. He really didnt care you see.. Loving
every minute of the rich and powerful life he lived, but on
occasion.. a very rare occasion.. He did wonder how it all came
to be.
He had powerful friends he never knew the names of. He could get
arrested one minute, and would wake up free of the charges the
next. He wouldnt fight what his life was throwing him; never one
to look a gift horse in the mouth, but after his vivid dreams of
late, he was really starting to grow more curious as to what his
blackouts truly did. He had seen expert after expert; shrink,
psych, doctor, and even an occasional voodoo medicine man to try
and rid himself of the nightmarish loss of reality.. and yet..
nothing soothed the rapid progression of sanity, into absolute
insanity. He never knew when his next jump in time would be.
Whether he would remember it, realize it, or even think to try
and recall it was another story all together.
Searching the large bedroom for some time; near an hour, Devon
found his missing phone and unlocked its coded programming. It
wasnt one of your every day over the counter cellphones from
wal-mart, and its security system was far from normal as well. A
thumb print scan; a retinal scan, and a voice-print recognition
system held his accounting information and activities secret
inside the pint sized computer. He didnt remember installing any
of the advancements; or the phone for that matter, but he did
know how to access basic parts of it when needed, and it just so
happened to be one of those moments.
Flipping through various slide-screens of data he cared not for;
some graphs of local investors trade and banking agendas, he
found what he sought. A simple calendar application; the date
marked in bright yellow text, with a side-line note attached. He
tapped the date hesitantly, opening one of the many word
processing programs on the intelligent communication device, and
in less than a blink he was looking at only two words.
:Donovan Dusk:
He couldnt recall the name; neither important nor memorable to
him, but since it was in his phone, and had a vivid reminder
alongside it, he figured it was worth checking out. After all..
his phone was never wrong... He placed the phone on his bedside
table; slipping off his dirty and worn out jeans, while
activating its voice-recognition program. He sought out
Donovan's most active and used number; one linked to a valued
business in the area, and dialed the number.
The phone rang quietly as he pulled on a pair of dress pants;
buttoned up his white undershirt, and threw on a rather
expensive black jacket. He would never wear a tie ordinarily,
but today seemed like a day of change. A day for something
different... So he quickly knotted a red tie around his neck,
adjusted it to fit properly, and picked the phone back up.. Just
in time in fact, as a click at the other end sounded off, and a
dainty receptionists voice escaped from the handheld device.
"Mr Dusk's office, Mr Dusk is not available, but if you would
li...." Her words were cut-off mid sentence as Devon cleared his
throat and interjected. "Ah yes... Excuse me ms... could you
please notify Mr Dusk that Devon Lacroix has urgent business
with him.... See to it that he receives the message immediately,
and you might find yourself at the end of a very nice holiday
gift... Thank you.. and have a nice day"
Devon hung up the phone; neither waiting nor caring for an
answer from the young woman, as he slipped the phone into his
jacket pocket, and approached his flats entry door. His lips
cracked into a half-smile as he grabbed the keys to his BMW from
the small table adjacent to the door, and with a youthful pace,
he left the home vacant. Security systems activating behind him
as he left for the day, and a full-time guard standing
stationary outside the door... It was a bright day. A new day...
and soon a phone call would determine whether it was going to
continue going that way...
Devon never had to wait long for returned phone calls... but..
he never knew why....
#Post#: 197266--------------------------------------------------
Re: Detroit MI
DIR By: Dems Darkfire
Date: June 3, 2012, 6:09 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
'Briiing Briiing, Briiing Briiing' "FUCK OFF YOU PIECE OF
SHIT!!" 'Briiing Briiing, Briiing Briiing' "God damn it... why
can't you leave me alooonneee." The man wined. 'Briiing Briiing,
Briiing Briiing' "FUCKING SHIT!" Donovan removed himself from
his sitting position, dropping the shard of glass he was
fondling in his hands onto the ground next to the rest of the
broken pieces that had failed to fall out of the window in his
rage fit. Don walked to the point, grabbing his phone from his
desk before he pulled down the answer bar of his HTC Thunderbolt
and screamed out to the person on the other line. "What could be
so god damn important that you HAVE to call me AFTER OFFICE
HOURS!" The meek woman on the other side of the line cringed at
the anger, taking a few moments to regain herself before she
spoke.
"Mr. Dusk... there was a very important call for..." He
interrupted. "WHO the fuck do you think is this important? WHO!
WHO!" The woman regained herself once more, even having to take
the phone from her ear and breath with the volume of his shouts,
calmly telling him the name. "Devon... A Devon Lacroix." With
those three words, Donovan's heart skipped a beat. Taking in a
slow breath, his state instantly changing as his voice reduced
itself to a quieter volume. "What did he want?" Donovan listened
carefully, what the fuck did he want? "He wants you to call him,
he left a num..." "I have his number." He interrupted once
again, a low growl flowing from his lips. "Thank you." Without
another word, he hung up on the woman. The second time she had
it happen to her in a matter of a half an hour.
Donovan walked over to where his bar used to be, setting himself
on one of the stools that had been bolted to the floor, because
his doctors felt that it would keep him from throwing the chairs
through the window. Little did they know that he could pick up a
bar with ease and fire it through the glass. "Shit.."
Avacyn watched from above, now worried for her beloved human as
a blast from the past came into play. She knew the true form of
this Devon Lacroix, knew the thing that possessed him, but due
to the laws of the war, she was not allowed to forewarn the man
under her guard of the dark intentions of the man that had
called. It was a curse to be a guardian trying to protect
something she could not speak to, could not warn, but as the
lord commanded, the humans must not know of their influence.
Donovan had met Devon as an investor, a man who had helped get
the man on his feet and going. How he had so much money to throw
on some alchemist, who now owned half the city himself, he had
met on the streets. Nothing was like this. He had a respect for
the kid, but something about the man was off. Devon seemed like
a good enough kid, but he always was on edge around him, Donovan
felt like Devon could snap at any moment, his normal demeanor
being the calm before the storm. But he couldn't escape this, he
couldn't avoid the man, not today.
He picked up the phone, flicking through his contacts, the phone
seeming to know the number he was looking for before he ever
touched the screen. Donovan clicked the name, hit call, and
placed the phone to his ear. The normal sound played, the normal
ringing in his ear that caused him to cringe with every noise.
"What the fuck am I doing.."
#Post#: 198966--------------------------------------------------
Re: Detroit MI
DIR By: Devon
Date: June 5, 2012, 1:56 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Devon had made it three city blocks; under the burning mid-day
sun, without so much as breaking a sweat. He was dressed like a
modern businessman; black suit of course, and yet he looked as
if he were no more uncomfortable than a man wearing shorts at
the beach. His brow was furrowed as he concentrated on ignoring
the large crowds, as well as dispersing his bodys heat, when his
phone began to vibrate in his pocket. Ordinarily he would let it
ring; let the voicemail pick it up, and then he would proceed to
check the message later, but this time.. Something told him to
answer it. Something insisted in fact that he did.
Sitting down at a small bench; half-way between his flat, and
his closest 'business', Devon adjusted his jacket and freed the
phone from its place in his pocket. He stared at the number for
a moment as it flashed on screen, then he took a steady breath
and pressed the answer button.
"Mr Dusk, so good to hear from you, and with such haste I might
add.... There is no need to flatter yourself or me with any
unneeded or frivolous conversation, So I will get right to the
point at hand...." Devon took a breath; trying to find the words
he wanted, even though he truly had no idea why he was speaking
with Mr Dusk. "I am in inquiring upon your current business
ventures, and your financial state... Would it be fair to say
that my contribution to your accounts have thus far grown
exponentially?" He was buying time; hoping to keep the
conversation going even though he had no clue where to, as he
listened to the silence on the other end, and caught whispers of
breathing through his phone's speakers.
"I can tell you one thing for certain Mr. Dusk... I have no
interest in divulging the true nature of my corporate monopoly,
but I can say this... I have certain need of you: Perhaps a down
payment on the gracious loan you received from me all those
years ago... If you wish to meet and discuss this venture
further, Ill be sure to send you directions to one of my flats,
as well as a time to be there... Is there anything you would
wish to know before I end this call and head elsewhere?"
Devon was nervous unlike normal, and he had a single bead of
sweat dripping down his left cheek when the speaker of his phone
delighted him with a response from the man on the other end.
This conversation was odd and confusing for Devon; spitting
words out as if he knew what he sought when in truth he didnt...
but what the hell, what could he lose, and if anything.. how
hard would it be to get back?
#Post#: 199855--------------------------------------------------
Re: Detroit MI
DIR By: Dems Darkfire
Date: June 6, 2012, 10:28 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
In the time it had taken for the man to pick up the receiver and
Donovan to officially process the voice on the other end of the
line, he had paced across his large flat, sat down into his
expensive sectional, and leaned himself forward against his
knees, his head in his hands as his left hand flicked through
his hair, his other resting near his ear, phone in hand as he
waited. Then he finally processed the man's voice coming through
the receiver. There was a mixture of confusion and worry that
flashed through Donovan's mind, his hand wrenched his hair,
tugging hard enough to uproot a small tuff at the peak of his
head. The tinge of pain caused a ripple effect through his body,
the sudden realization that this wasn't a trick, it wasn't a
dream.
Something was off about the voice. It was very different from
the one he remembered in his head. A few sentences in and he
could hear the uncertainty plaguing the kid. He had no idea what
he was doing, and honestly, neither did Donovan. How did he get
this phone call? How did this kid even remember him?
He answered the man, quickly, promptly, and without an ounce of
uncertainty in his voice, like he knew what he was talking
about. "Yeah. I wasn't very busy so I figured I call..." He
might have lied. He was very busy... destroying shit. in an
unaltered rage for the past two days. "Asking me about my
current financial situation is very rude.. but I could neither
confirm or deny your question..." Yes they had. They had grown
like nothing else. Like the money was blessed, or cursed, by
some unseen force. No one could refuse it, and it felt powerful
in his hands. "...I have to ask exactly what the fu..."
The man interrupted Donovan, his head instantly flicking through
anger and hate before resting on a strange respect for the
person on the other line. "A down payment? Loan? The fuck are
you talking about loan? Listen. I know you are the reason for my
sudden and quite strange stroke of luck, but when we talked...
when was that... five years ago, two months after you randomly
placed it into my account you where calling it a surprise gift,
an investment in me as a person... and now here you are, calling
me after so long, telling me it was a loan?" Donovan was on his
feet, three steps away from booting his million dollar coffee
table slash computer, slash planner and calender through the
other glass panel that hadn't shattered.
He remained calm, throughout his large outburst he had managed
to not let it show through his voice as he took a moment to draw
in a quiet, deep breath. "Mr. Lacroix... I would like to discuss
this further. I do believe you have my address do you not..." He
sighed. "Feel free to stop whenever you like, I am on leave from
the office for the next few days..." Donovan sat down, pressing
the on key to his coffee table computer and flicking up his bank
account. "How much are we talking..."
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