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Post by Lacey Cadavre on Nov 3, 2007 13:14:38 GMT -5
The wind whips the dark, black hair of the young woman away from her pale, yet dark face. Clutching her free arm tight to her body, she shivers under the layers of clothing she is wearing: two sweatshirts, one of them hooded, and a lengthy jacket. Her other arm tightens despite the blistering pain in her shoulder. She was lucky... in the sense that she is still physically alive.
She'd been mentally tortured, by herself, and had entered into a world of self induced pain, picking fights she knew she couldn't win, with a seeming death wish. Yet, the Lord would not grant her that wish. Any wish she's had... all fell upon deaf ears.
She just wanted forgiveness, to ease the pain of her one, glaring mistake... be it through peace of mind or death. None granted, forcing her to carry on, forcing her to live a long life of regret... and, for the moment, poverty.
Lacey had, for the past few days, been left to the streets of Chicago, Illinois, after being released from the hospital. Thankfully, her previous employer had covered the health, as she was still technically under contract, yet not resigned. Must have been a resign gift... At least a massive hospital bill would not become yet another burden upon her life.
But... what to do....
What to do when left to her own vices? She's injured: her ribs are thankfully bruised, but her shoulder must remain in the sling for at least another week, recommended for two... and left to be rehabbed for another full month. 8 weeks in all for this injury...
8 weeks she felt she deserved. 8 weeks of doing... exactly what it is she is doing now. Finding shelter in a nearby alley, covering herself, curling up next to a dumpster in an effort to help conceal her presence, a nearby cardboard box being leaned over her head to keep away the wind.
The only beneficial piece to Lacey's life rest in her pocket, her hand sliding down in there, clutching it. The business card of Candice Angel... the contact information... the opportunity to hopefully once again, return to what she was doing... for all intents and purposes... sharing her pain.
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Post by v on Nov 4, 2007 14:49:18 GMT -5
"A Fallen Angel on the hardest of realities... the hard cold ground. My my my my.... and I thought he was joking when I was instructed to look in the... deepest pits of humanity induced hell. Simply amazing..... anyone, living here. Isn't it...
Miss Cadavre?"
Archer, the unknown figure of smugness. His steps soft and in stride, one after another, slowly he creeps closer to the fallen body. He adjusts his glasses before looking to the night sky, beautiful night tonight. Pity it was to be ruined by work. The finger length white gloves seem to almost give off a dull light in the damp darkness of the alley. His priest like garb still white as ever, the moonlight reflecting off of his tinted glasses. Creating an almost eerie "white-eyed" effect as he stares down at the cardboard lump of a human being. He doesn't kneel down, nor make any attempt to help the woman up from her state of misfortune. Archer smiles with that demure, seemingly "all knowing" smile before rubbing his fingers together slowly.
"It would be rude of me not to introduce myself to a lady.... regardless of her circumstance. My name is Archer, you would be easier to track down Miss Cadavre if not for your current state of.... duress."
Archer walks closer to Lacey's body before stopping several feet from her, he places his right index and middle fingers on the concrete wall to his right. In one clean swipe, his fingers come down in a snapping motion. A flicker of white light; almost in a beacon like state flashes for but a moment. Illuminating the darkened alleyway if only by a little. He takes another step forward, his eyes not leaving Lacey's position.
"You should be able to see now Miss Cadavre, the dark is such a.... hideous place for a young woman. Would you not agree? Or is it perhaps, you wish to inflict self punishment....
Tenfold?" |
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Post by Lacey Cadavre on Nov 5, 2007 1:25:53 GMT -5
Her piercing blue eyes follow the mans every movement from inside her cardboard cave, swallowing hard.
"I've earned every bit of it..."
Her eyes do not leave the tinted shade of the mans glasses, even with the momentary distraction of his white gloves. She's wounded, an animal in the corner, starving... the last thing she'll be willing to do is to allow herself to be taken advantage of and ended before living out her self-induced sentance. She stands, the cardboard shelter falling to her side, using the dumpster as a brace for her one armed, sore weight...
"How... how did you know my name... or, well... where to even find me?" |
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Post by v on Nov 5, 2007 5:16:23 GMT -5
"My associate would be to thank for such knowledge Miss Cadavre. Normally I am sent to those who are of unique interest... in a hope to try and aide them somewhat, perhaps on their way. However from what we have gathered... you have no desire to seek refuge. Instead rather you have this morbid desire to inflict self induced punishment, almost acting as your own Judge. I must admit, no matter how long I am around such unique humans I fail to understand the reason for self inflicted penance. Perhaps it's something one must experience to understand.
I did fail to understand the reasoning for me being sent considering it was more than evident, you would take no help from any outside sources. I suppose my job would require me to try..."
Archer reaches into one of his inner coat pockets, taking out a plain white card from it's depths. He flicks the card to Lacey's feet with a smile, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. The standard, typical, calling card. His name and contact number on either side.
"That is my card, Miss Cadavre. If you require assistance, call the number. I will be there to aide you. I found it somewhat useless to attempt, but my job is my job. If you wish to keep it for the future, do so. If you wish to rip it up, that is your choice. I am... confused, as to what my purpose is here though. Usually I simply leave my card behind, knowing they will call for assistance in the future. You however Miss Cadavre... with all due respect, seem to not be within your right mind." |
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Post by Lacey Cadavre on Nov 5, 2007 13:36:51 GMT -5
Slowly, she takes the card from him, just staring at the highly contrasted black print. Help? When none other would help her? She glances back up at Archer, then back down, running her free thumb over the embossed text. Should she spit in the face of this? She wonders this, her thumb white knuckling as if to crumple it up.
But...
She can't do that. She's horribly off, even pitiful, pathetic...
She only nods, sliding the card into her pocket before cupping her free arm around the elbow of her injured, restrained limb.
"Yes... yes... I'll keep that in mind. Ca... can I ask just who's sending you to find me? Who's your mysterious employer?" |
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Post by v on Nov 5, 2007 16:22:05 GMT -5
"Ah... sorry Miss Cadavre, but my associate would prefer to remain anonymous for the time being. I'm more than sure he will undoubtedly make himself known within time. For now though I have been sent around as an aide for others...
At least, until I am replaced."
He adjusts his glasses on his face, indeed. All things to "that man" seemed to be of little to no value, replaceable all in the same. Perhaps it was a smart way of living, perhaps it was a fearful way of living. Never the less, it was his way. Archer smiles that oh so demure smile once more before reaching into his coat pocket, removing another money clip from it. Grasping it between his fingers, he kneels down slightly and lets it rest gently against the cold hard ground.
"Life is all about choices Miss Cadavre. A free person has the choice of how to life, of how to love, of how to lie... and in most cases it seems, even of how to die. You now have a choice before you. You can accept the money clip I have placed on the ground, taking the money will be of good use to someone in your circumstance. It is of three thousand dollars. Or, you can choose to leave it be. To kick it away and a passer by will come upon a nice hefty gift seemingly from "above" no doubt. As I said, all free beings have choices now don't they? I am sure you are interested in punishing yourself beyond repair, that is of no business of mine. However my associate did seem quite adamant that those who need assistance most, receive it." |
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Post by skylerhigh on Nov 5, 2007 17:45:12 GMT -5
A flicker of light appears in the air in the mouth of the alleyway and incredibly, a man falls out of it. Well, fall is not quite the word as he gracefully spins out of it and lands on a foot and a knee. The man is dressed all in white, and white hair covers his left eye. His head quickly turns to look at the cloaked form of Archer, and his grin disappears. He gets to his feet and flicks his hair out of his eyes.
Dylan: How much of a choice can you call what you're offering, Archer?
Dylan advances down the alleyway, his eyes flickering between a pure white and a hazel brown.
Dylan: I don't like what you're doing, Archer. You've visited me, Kelly Monarch, and now Miss Cadavre here. You're not offering choices, you're subverting what will become the GCW in only a few weeks time. I don't doubt you've visited others as well. Your associate is not going to be well received by me when he arrives in the GWC.
Dylan pulls out the card and holds it up with one hand. He closes his eyes for a few seconds and then, from nowhere, the card ignites and burns to ashes. Dylan brushes his hands against each other to get rid of it and takes a step close to Archer.
Dylan: I do the LORD's work, Archer, and you are definitely on the opposite side. Leave now, before I pray for Him to ignite more than just your little business card.
Dylan's eyes breifly flitter to Miss Cadavre in the corner. His little sense goes off, indicating that she too is to be joining the GCW roster. He turns his gaze back to Archer, staring intently.
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Post by v on Nov 5, 2007 21:01:18 GMT -5
".... Hm."
Archer adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose, propping them up a bit with his index and middle fingers. He tilts his head down on a slight angle, his smile slowly shifts into a slight grin. Ryder. The "Lords" Work? Hm.
"Ryder... the Lord's work? That is somewhat redundant do you not think? Is it not said that the Lord does not have any adverse effects upon the direct flow of humanity? Free will and all that? Yet here you are... doing the "Lords" work. I wonder how much use you would be of to people that have no Faith, Ryder. To people who are so down into the depths of their own life that the "Good Lord" is not exactly one to be praised and worshiped, Ryder. People perhaps....
That are already inflicting "Divine" punishment down upon themselves rather than waiting for a force "from above" to do it for them. Perhaps people like, Miss Cadavre here. I wonder Miss Cadavre, can you tell me what the "Lord" has done for you recently? Does God not love all his children, Ryder? Does God not help those in need through miracles and salvation? What of Miss Cadavre? Is she not in need of salvation? Is she not worthy of a miracle, Ryder? You may preach of your... Lord, and his work. Yet it is only people like I who are down here, in the depths of humanity and it's more disgusting forms of life. Not a Church nor charity food drives in a pitiful attempt to capture the hearts of people watching a local News network covering the event.
No Ryder... you may do the "Lords" work, but I am the one helping humans."
He shifts his glasses once again, a soft smirk upon his face. The Lords work, really. It was good for a laugh on the inside though. He lifts his right arm and holds it behind his back softly. The tint of his glasses reflects the dull light off of the flame used to scorch the business card he had handed Ryder in a previous encounter. |
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Post by Lacey Cadavre on Nov 5, 2007 23:30:51 GMT -5
Lacey's attention was torn. Her body, not wanting the punishment her mind was forcing it through, pleaded with her to pick up the money clip. Begged with every heartbeat that sent a painful throb throughout her shoulder. Forcing her to her knees in front of the men, her free arm reaching forward, grasping it.
"The... Lord's... work..."
Slowly, ever so slowly, she tugs the money clip towards her, lifting it off of the ground...
"Humanity..."
Sitting back, she pulls her knees towards her on the frigid pavement, ice blue eyes transfixed on the metallic glint in front of her, catching the dying bits of flame to light off a faint, orange glow.
"You... work for the Lord... that has foresaken me. Left me to rot... can't even offer a simple smile... of forgiveness."
She juggles the money to her restrained hand, grasping the side of the dumpster to assist herself to her feet, groaning at the strain in her bruised ribs.
"While, you, Archer... you choose to assist a... monster, like me? Why... Why am I not loved by the Lord enough to be offered the sanctuary of a mind at peace, after all of the confessional punishments that I've put myself through...
Or why should I even be allowed the human nature of getting something... This easy?"
She holds the money clip in front of her, at eye-level, a few glints of a nearby light catch on it. The money is damp from its descent to the ground.
"Two years... No one has smiled on me... two years, I've tried to push it the back of my mind. And now... the torture has resurfaced... just... why, would I recieve any grace of God or Man?" |
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Post by v on Nov 5, 2007 23:51:59 GMT -5
"Your belief of self paralyzing fear and punishment, is your own. Unlike Ryder here.. I don't preach in doing the "Lord's" work. True enough I may work for someone aside from myself, I by no means hide behind false excuses and delusions of grandeur. Do not get me wrong Ryder.... I am sure your faith is strong and your beliefs just. I however do not put faith in that which I cannot understand, nor control. I guess it's a personality flaw of mine. Ideal threats from a simple messenger disgust me... if you wish to save the small children lost on the streets, the cute kittens in the trees and soccer moms scraping their knees, be my guest. I say not a message of all knowing light or forgiveness Miss Cadavre. I simply bring a small message of potential assistance. It seems that-"
Archer is interrupted by a low dull sound in the alleyway. He closes his eyes behind his glasses as he slowly reaches into one of his coat pockets. He pulls out an odd looking cell phone, opening it up with a sigh. Stepping back from Ryder and Miss Cadavre for a moment.
"Really this is not the best ti-....
.... I see. Immediately? So it shall be then.. no,
Well... I ran into a slight situation, it seems Mr. Ryder has impeached my job concerning Miss Cadavre.
Hm.... no, I will leave the choice up to her. Yes.... I understand."
Archer closes the cell phone and slips it back into his coat pocket. He adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose with a smile, a smirk if you will. Walking back over to Ryder and Cadavre, Archer looks up at the messenger boy and the living dead girl as it were. He tilts his head on a slight angle before removing a new business card, pitch black with embossed silver text. He throws it in the direction of Miss Cadavre, it hits the dumpster beside her and embeds itself into the side of it. He turns to face Ryder with a smile.
"It seems... I have been replaced already. It's a shame.....
I will not have the pleasure of seeing... what she does to you once I am gone."
Archer removes his glasses, letting them drop to the ground. He stomps on them with his foot and looks up at Miss Cadavre one last time. With his shining white eyes. What could be described as a "flash cube" suddenly goes off after the destruction of his glasses. Flashing for but a mere fifteen seconds. Not a blinding light, rather one of pure energy. Once the "light show" is over, Archer, is gone. |
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Post by Lacey Cadavre on Nov 5, 2007 23:59:29 GMT -5
"... Alright... so I've just been approached by two supernaturals... great..."
Ryder had appeared out of thin air before her, Archer, making his exit seemingly into mid-air. With devil eyes. She sighs, flicking the white card to the ground while sliding the clip of money into her pocket, while walking over to the dumpster.
"Wonder what we have here..."
She plucks the card from the dumpster, trying to squint in the light to read it. Nothing, for now... but her attention turns back to Ryder...
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Post by skylerhigh on Nov 6, 2007 3:51:53 GMT -5
Dylan simply hides a smile on his face as Archer disappears. Lacey's own gaze looks like she wishes death upon Dylan right there and then, but he shrugs it off. People have given him that look before. He's not afraid of it. Turning back to Lacey, Dylan pulls up a section of white fabric from his shirt that covers his mouth. He moves to leave, but hesitates and turns his head sideways so that Miss Cadavre can see one of his pale blue eyes and the honesty in his voice.
Dylan: Rest assured, Lacey. I'm not here to save you, or to bring you Jesus, or bring you any sort of grace. Your life is your own, as are your choices, and nothing I say is going to change that. I'm only here to find out who Archer is working for. Your life is of no concern to me. The only two things I know about you are your name and that you're going to become a GCW wrestler sooner or later. You don't want my help, and even if I offered it you wouldn't let go of your pride to take it.
Dylan turns his back on Lacey, his own words hitting harsh in his ears. Life is cruel but unfortunately, that's the way it goes. He pauses simply to see if Lacey says anything in return.
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Post by Lacey Cadavre on Nov 6, 2007 10:40:17 GMT -5
"Just like the Lord, then, hm? Smiles on those that don't deserve nor need his guiding hand, yet receive everything in their life and can live through whatever monstrosity of a skeleton they have in their closet... the politicians, the CEOs and the like... yet when someone like me... someone who had an entire world in front of her and was making an actual difference comes along and makes one foolish mistake... I'm ignored. Just like now. I'm ignored, Archer is the issue. A hard working Big Three father of four has just lost his job and his house, yet his CEO has just added a couple million dollar bonus and an extension on his house in the man's place. So... relevant..."
She snorts, sliding the new card in her pocket...
"Perhaps this card... is the answer... since the Lord, whom each and every fool at the alter prays will lead them to their own individual answers, seems to be out of the office and turning a blind eye to all of his children who actually need him." |
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Post by skylerhigh on Nov 6, 2007 18:47:20 GMT -5
Dylan spins around in rage.
Dylan: You want help? Then take it! There are plenty of people out there who would shrug off the incredibly ridiculous tone you're putting on and still help you. You're a cynic, Lacey. I know for a FACT that you wouldn't take my hand if I offered it to you right here, right now and you could get out of this back alley.
Dylan sighs, regretful that he's seen this situation before.
Dylan: You're not being ignored, Lacey. You're CHOOSING to be ignored.
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Post by Lacey Cadavre on Nov 6, 2007 23:43:56 GMT -5
She huffs, sliding her hand into her pocket with the money clip.
"Continue on your mission then. I'll be fine... I've got all the help that I need."
She turns from Ryder, clutching the injured arm a little tighter to her body, trying to keep warm in the harsh winds, disappearing down the dark alley in front of her. |
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