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       #Post#: 194313--------------------------------------------------
       Detroit MI
   DIR By: Aesira
       Date: May 31, 2012, 7:51 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       -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
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       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
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       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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