7 / 25 / 2009

Introduction:
Characters: Faernan, J and Regan

Location: Venice

Plot summary:

(Page still under construction)

Logs:
(Amendments Note: These logs have been spell checked prior to addition to this site.)

[Jul 25th, 2009 / 01:09:31] *pyronixcore &curren; The crashing waves of people along the streets and laneways was extacy. Faernan has never seen so many people. The jostling and bustling. The  of it. It was exhilerating. Exotic. And beautiful. The air was ripe with emotions, the sounds, voices and the water of the canals. The smells, sweet perfumes of food, the musty smell of animals and the odorous overtones of exhaust (from boats), sweat and the musk that made up the combined smell of what was a hot day. His eyes glinted with his curiousity, his mouth wrought into a dashing grin. The fact that most of these people looked tired after a long day of work, irritated by the traffic and frustrated with one anothers annoyance made no difference to his bright mood. To him, everything was fresh. Hard boots crunched into light gravel and Faernan looked down for the first time at the loosely paved stones, breaking apart from years of wear and tear. Cracked from the wight of time and millions of footsteps. Another fascinating facet to this city. His moment of pause caused a large man to knock Faernan to the side; "Get outta the way" the man gruffly snapped in Italian as he pushed past, disappearing quickly into the crowd. Faernan himself was tempted to follow the man as he heard the man again through a screen of people. He adjusted his backpack with a soft heave, and pulled down tha back of his shirt, which had begun to bunch up where the pack rubbed against it. The strong scent of cinnamon caught his nose for just a moment, a hearbeat, no more. The delicious, overpowering smell was homely. Reminescant of baking. Instantly replacing it was the smell of a womans perfume. She smelled of lavendar, and her light wash of purple hair reflected her smell. Faernan had never seen dyed hair that wasn't black, or brown before. Stepping carefully to avoid and observe the irate people on the sidewalk, Faernan found himself following the outer edge fo the footpath, pacing along the edge of the surprisingly wide path, following the side where people seemed to be innate attracted. Water lapped gently against her consraining walls as gondola's wove their way through the glistening water. His eyes danced across faces on the inner edge of the footpath, their own innate gravity causing them to distinctly walk on the opposite side. Like an untold law of physics. And ancient tradition shared between city-folk. He considering taking the map out of his pocket. But rejected the idea on a second thoughts passing. There were still a few hours worth of exploration to be done. [Jul 25th, 2009 / 01:13:06] ** ravenbassist has joined [Jul 25th, 2009 / 01:48:10]  &#x221E; Her chest burned. Not even the crashing of the waves, nor the hum of people in the background could deter her. Her whole being screamed silently, burning for sustenance. It was late in the day, the sun just disappearing over the horizon. It was enough to make her uncomfortable - to give her a light heat that wasn't entirely comfortable, but all but her basest of instincts had fled. Gone. Disappeared. Her hands clenched into fists and unclenched, her fingers trembling if only she was able to keep them still for longer than a second. The unnatural blue of her eyes flickered here and there, searching, seeking her next meal. [Jul 25th, 2009 / 01:48:23]  ... Fuck you, shift+enter )) [Jul 25th, 2009 / 01:54:20] *SynergicFuture &#x221E; Her chest burned. Not even the crashing of the waves in the canal a street over, nor the hum of people in the background could deter her. Her whole being screamed silently, burning for sustenance. It was late in the day, the sun just disappearing over the horizon. It was enough to make her uncomfortable - to give her a light heat that wasn't entirely comfortable, but all but her basest of instincts had fled. Gone. Disappeared. Her hands clenched into fists and unclenched, her fingers trembling if only she was able to keep them still for longer than a second. The unnatural blue of her eyes flickered here and there, searching, seeking her next meal. Oh, her next meal. She could feel it now, sliding down her throat like honey, copperysweet and addictive, and her body tingled in anticipation. She looked nothing less than out of place in her stiletto heels, paint-splattered overalls, neon pink leggings, her face twisted in a hungry smirk. Not that many would be able to see her, tucked as she was in one of the tiny alleys splintering off the main canal walkway, but crouched on the edge of the building, shifting her weight anxiously from side to side, scanning the crowd that slid by, uncaring and unconcerned, buried in their own lives... [Jul 25th, 2009 / 01:56:44] ** Mr-Jaunty has left (timed out) [Jul 25th, 2009 / 02:02:49] *ashescry &#9802; He had searched the house high and low and found nothing. Nothing at all. His scalpel and Sickert's blade were gone. And her eyes! His precious treat. Regan was a madman. Fawn had taken a break from her business with Ziodex and he'd volunteered to take her spot for the month, it had given him the chance to spend some time away from the damned Chateau. It was more of a prison than anything. Sickert wasn't anything like this Vidar. And C&#225;el. Regan spat at the mere thought of him, his fingers brushing against his neck and his wounded pride. Pulling his chest high, he let his shoulders fall back as he reached the crowd, Regan intended to find what was his. The pansy whined and tugged at his sleeve, complaining about the noise, about the people. Both Fawn's pager and PDA were in his jacket pocket, bumping his waist as he made his way between clusters of tourists. A heavy sigh left his lips and he pointedly counted the taps of his heels against the stone in sevens. Each round a small comfort to the anxious pansy. Regan sucked in his gut and grimaced while he pushed a backpack forward, squeezing himself between the person and the wall. Imprints from that first night came in flashes as he retraced his steps. He couldn't have been so careless to leave his things in the city, could he? [Jul 25th, 2009 / 02:14:34] ** ravenbassist has left [Jul 25th, 2009 / 02:19:55] *pyronixcore &curren; Faernan lifted the camera from it's perch on his chest and ducked his head as the strap brushed up the back of his short hair. The sky was a brilliant shade of red, streaked with hues of purple and orange, the very horizon glimmered, though the sun was gone now, clouds were emblazoned with the delicate, and brilliant sheen of gold, wreathed in swirls of grey and yellow. Of course, he could only see the sky partially. But the view was available through the narrow alleys. Some were winding, twisty. This one was fairly straight. It sloped downwards towards the outer lagoon gently. Perfect for a shot aove the heads of the tourists. . The lense dilated, the shitter flickered. A perfect shot. Faernan took several more before disembarking down the allyway, avoiding the shoves and loud nature of the crowd. It was not a delicate atmosphere here. But it was lively. Faernan by now was starting to miss the quiet. The hazel orbs of his eyes lifted over the people, looking for another narrower alley. It took a moment, but far down the 'street', he noticed the thin dark corridor wending off to the left, hidden from the post-sunset horizon in a sheath of shadows from the ancient buildings. Sliding his fingers across the Winged Lion of St. Mark, the symbol of the city that was imprinted on much of the architecture quite proudly, Faernan hugged the wall and moved through the crowds, sweat gleaming on his brow. All this walking had made him thirsty. When he got to the alley, he would take off his pack, sit down, and have a drink fo the spring water in his water bottle. He panted slightly as he realised his mouth was dry, gulping, an attempt to kick start salivation. [Jul 25th, 2009 / 02:20:10] shutter D:)) [Jul 25th, 2009 / 02:20:16] D: ) [Jul 25th, 2009 / 02:32:51] *SynergicFuture &#x221E; A pink tongue skated over exposed and overly large canines, seemingly tasting the air as a snake might. So close. So close yet untouchable. She panted, hungering, her chest heaving with air she didn't need.	A fine layer of brick-dust fell to the litter-covered paving stones beneath her small perch, testament to the unnaturally tight grip of her slender fingers. To think, she could just reach in, and pluck a life. Anyone's life. Eeny meeny miny mo.	 It was like an alarm tone. Her head snapped to the side, her body leaning forward just a little, searching the teeming crowds. Photographers. Easy prey, sometimes. Always wanting something pretty, something unusual. Yes. She felt like the hint of freedom and everything that photographers had. A tiny taste of everything at once.	More brick dust floated away, to land on the paving stones below. [Jul 25th, 2009 / 02:47:24] ** eskirinabsolute has left [Jul 25th, 2009 / 03:08:44] *SynergicFuture &#x221E; There he was. Her little undefined photographer. Camera hanging off one shoulder. There was something about him. Something that kept her attention. She wasn't sure what it was, but it was there, and she wanted it. She wanted to taste it. To drink it. To analyze it even as it spilled down her throat. She lurched forward, the brick finally giving away under her left hand to fall to the ground with a solid 'thunk'. She pulled back, barely able to keep her perch even with her enhanced reflexes. A catlike hiss left her lips, and she skittered across the small lip that ran around the building before anyone could investigate. She kept one eye on her interesting photographer, her body slithering around the edge of the building, the growing darkness making her look somewhat like a stone gargoyle, though certainly no gargoyle ever wore overalls, nor was pale like chalk.