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The Illusion of Choice - RolePlay
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This RP is based off the book "Not Even Bones" and the series.
No canonical events take place in this RP, so don't worry about that part.
You do not have to read it to understand this RP, but it will make it a whole lot easier considering how bad I am at making things comprehensible.
Also, this RP is PH-13
So, today is just your regular ol', miserable day, huh? Nothing particular going on to liven up the mood, nothing to catch your interest or even take your mind off the monotony of your every day life. Sure, some may wish for such monotony instead of the hell they live in now, but it never really mattered in the end, hm?
Anyways, today seems like it will be busy at one of the more well-known black market hotspots in the world, the Mercado de la Muerte along the Amazon River. Some sellers have recently caught some rare merchandise, and it's the perfect weather for the venues to open up. Although... There seems to be an odd aura hanging in the air, a sort of unrest that looms above the day...
Middle of fall, not too hot for the Amazonian heat to boil you alive, but still a nice and comfortable temperature. Perfect for a nice stroll along the market, right? Gaze at all the venues, looking at all the fiery birds trapped in their cages, pink platypuses huddled together in fear, boney figures bound in chains with only a gown to their name, the clattering of coins hitting the benches as each exchange was made, the sounds filled the market with life and brought an adventurous feeling to those who wondered.
Not Kafka though, for she was one of the visitors that loathed the event, not enjoying a single moment of her trek. She was simply here to observe, take notes from the shadows and go unnoticed among those too preoccupied making deals. Her cloaked figure didn't really stand out among those who also had an identity to hide, and the amount that gathered here made it fairly easy to waltz around completely unnoticed. It became a routine of hers, really.
Observing, watching, waiting. Look at the blind spots, make note of regulars, pinpoint the prisoners. Kafka remained as silent as ever, seemingly walking along with no whyme or reason. It only seemed as though the pressuring aura that loomed above them all only grew with each passing minute, each footstep of hers.
Waking up to an unknown phone call was not something Daavit was considering when he went to bed last night. Sure, it wasn't uncommon, but each and every time it happened it still received the same reaction from him. Wake up with a groan, slam his hand onto his phone, and answered with the most annoyed, grumbly tone there was to make sure the caller knew they woke him up from his precious sleep. It was 2 in the morning for heaven's sake!
"May I ask who the hell is calling me at this hour?" He asked sternly, sitting up in his bed while using his free hand to rub his exhausted eyes. He only had the energy to half listen to whatever nonsense was coming from the man on the other end, but Daavit hopefully got enough information to make the call worthwhile. Apparently, a buyer was interested in making an exchange at the Death Market later in the day, a place Daavit wasn't exactly fond of but the payout seemed massive. Almost triple the worth of the merchandise, something he wasn't sure he could pass up. Sure, his job paid well and he was able to live comfortably with hardly any haunting experiences, but this money...
Now, Daavit wasn't exactly a materialistic person, not as greedy as many others in his business were and only did what he had to. That being said, he wasn't exactly the type of person to let go of the past easily either. A man and his past are tricky things, after all.
So, the call came to an end and minutes quickly passed where the possibilities and considerations floated around as ideas to piece together and form a plan. After that, all that needed to be done was him clumsily getting out of bed and getting prepared for today's little adventure. Hop in the shower, get dressed, pack some basics, and say hello to one of his lovely basement dwelling friends. This time the requested Unnatural was his newly caught hellhound puppy, a pretty rare species considering they solely roam the lands of the dead and only the idiotic traverse into the land of the living. Even rarer to find a lone pup, when it's been known for mothers to be extremely protective of their young and never let them venture into this realm. But the Unicorn had his ways, and a magician never shares their secrets.
Daavit had to admit, it looked very adorable and was definitely companion material but alas, he couldn't hoard an army of his own hell dogs and live his happy little fantasy. He almost felt bad for the poor thing, but this was all part of business and he had dealt with far worse. Well... He probably hadn't reached the lowest of the low yet, taking into account his rule against having any business with children of any humanoid species, but there had definitely been some horrors.
Anyways, he loaded everything up and took a lengthy flight all the way to Brazil, then traversed to the market from there. Daavit did find it odd how there weren't many specifics given, like the usual among his clients, and instead he had to assume that wandering around was his best bet for finding the deal. All he knew was that he was looking for a man wearing a particular jacket, one that was supposed to be "easy to spot" and that "he'd know when he saw it." Looking among the overcrowded streets though... It wasn't looking too promising.
She hadn't really been dreaming, no. Or sleeping, technically. She had sat down for a moment and rested her eyes, but she still felt uneasy, especially in the old abandoned base she had taken shelter in, so she stood up, dusted herself off and started the trek to the next shelter she could find, and hopefully food.
She was pretty much starving. This old, abandoned base gave nothing fresh and her stomach rejected the old corpses. It was probably used as a base for Eiríni once upon a time. Isabelle didn't know and didn't really care; all she cared about was food and was getting away from the humans.
She glanced behind her, making sure she was not followed.
Aurora weaved their way through busy people; people selling Unnaturals, people buying Unnaturals, shady looking people...it was the same as the last black market she had visited, although this one along the Amazon River was bigger. More popular.
She grabbed some food or cash here an there, maybe took an apple right out of an unsuspecting persons nose or a few cents out of someone's pockets as she glanced at the booths, surveying.
She only had limited money. Instead of buying for the otherwise very not moral decision of death or using a part of an unnatural for drugs or other ill intent, she was ordered to set a few free, though things had gotten more price-y lately. She was definitely not the right person for this kind of job.
But there were so many choices. She felt bad for all of them in their cages or on leashes, auction agents yelling over each other and bidders rushing to get the creature. Millions of booths crowding with ten times more people.
She bumped into someone with a cute little puppy hellhound for selling. She could tell something was off about the guy, but she had muttered an apology and ran away before he could tell something was off about her. If she was studied close enough, anyone could tell she was radiant. Literally. She glowed.
Sure, Aurs were not common in auction houses and black markets, although the occasional naughty person might hunt one down. Aurora was not a careful person, however. She even looked obvious with her bright colors in her hair and clothes, so she needed to be careful.
She was very not careful, however.
After making his way over to the market he looks for the group of people that he had made a deal with on helping him sell the unicorn family. He found one of the people, a short thin man dressed in a lab coat and glasses with thin frames. After talking with the man he realizes that he and the man in the white coat had likely been tricked and used. It was likely that the other 3 dealers were at some other market selling the unicorn family while they sat here confused. Not angry but instead surprised Nick pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and opens an unlabeled app. A map shows up on the screen with 2 points relatively close to each other, showing a location nearby. Outside the market but not to far outside.
After tracking down the 2 points, Nick and the man turn into and alley way to see a blue utility van. The logo of a spoof electrician company on the side. Nick walks up to the doors on the back of the van, pulls out his knife and grabs onto the handle of the door. He pulls the door open to see the unicorn family and one of the 3 people he was supposed to meet up with. A man in black coat holding a double barrel, slowly moves towards the entrance in fear drops the weapon and points upward towards a nearby building. Nick looking upwards sees a man holding a sniper prepping his shot aiming towards the man in the white coat. Nick shouts but it being to late the man gets shot in the leg. Nick unholsters his knife and runs towards the building in anger. He jumps up grabbing the bottom rung and starts climbing a fire escape seeming faster than an human has gone doing such a task. After reaching the top of the fire escape he jumps up grabbing the ledge of the roof and pulls himself up just as fast as he had jumped. Knife in hand charges after the sniper dodging a desperately fired bullet. Once he reached the man holding the sniper he grabbed their right arm and made a deep cut in their fore arm. He then let go of the man's arm and sheathed his knife. "Seeing that the other person has no chance against me and my friend is, that you can't fire a gun, and your buddy over there made the smart decision and gave up, can we go sell these Unnaturals please?" A sharp pain emits from the back of his head. Dizzy he turns around to see a woman in a suit and glasses holding a wooden baseball bat. "Don't you feel bad selling one of your kind?" She asks in a taunting way. Before Nick could answer he loses consciousness collapsing to the ground.
The Amazon. A rather popular location for tourists, with its exotic beauty. Except for one little detail; the Mercado de la Muerte. In a world of humans and beings known as the Unnaturals it was a hotspot for illegal deals and trafficking. Most Unnaturals would never dare to step foot in such a horrific place for fear of getting caught and sold off themselves. Eris Everlast walked amid the buyers and vendors of the Market. Not in pure form, of course, as she had always feared this place. Today she was dressed in her religious clothing, a black cloak, and hiding her face with a white Kitsune mask. Her horn was hidden and replaced with a four pointed star on the center of her forehead. No one could tell she wasn't human, and she was determined to keep it that way. She had a mission, given by a special group...
The Amazon. A rather popular location for tourists, with its exotic beauty. Except for one little detail; the Mercado de la Muerte. In a world of humans and beings known as the Unnaturals it was a hotspot for illegal deals and trafficking. Any smart Unnatural would know to never be seen in there, but some were a bit too daring for their own good, testing fate. Nightrekra Shacordis was amid the humans of the Market, hidden by a black cloak, long gloves, high boots, and a half black half white bear face mask. She didn't stand out amid the others of the Market and she planned to keep it that way. She was a daring soul, but a crafty and intelligent one as well. She knew she was special, even for an Unnatural, and would fetch a horrifyingly high price here if caught. However, she wasn't as sweet as she seemed...
He was shaken out of his boredom quite literally though as his Master subtly kicked the side of his new cage. "Oi, Mio. New job." Was the only instruction and like an obedient puppy Lăcrămioara perked up and gave their customer a winning smile and his wholehearted attention. It didn't take long for his Master to reach an agreement and coin was exchanged and his assignment was read out. His employer this time was a cute boy but unfortunately not his type at all, rambling about a nest of vampires that had made their home base in the caves near the poor sweet boy's family lands. The same old spiel that flowed from a frightened and inexperienced mouth droned on as Lăcrămioara smiled sympathetically and nodded in the appropriate places. Crawling forward, he reached out to grasp the boy's worn coat and gazed into those watery brown eyes with a gentleness that would melt even the hardest of stone, stopping the rambling in its tracks.
"Please don't you worry your pretty head anymore, benzinho." He purred, the words rolling off his tongue like thickened honey and fragrant oud. "This Lăcrămioara will take care of anything and everything. For such a sweetheart, even I would turn against my wretched kin if only for a drop of your attention." Seeing the bloom of red against his employer's face, Lăcrămioara took it a step further to grasp a soft hand that had never seen a day's work and pressed his forehead against the disgusting skin in a vow. "Upon my name, I swear to return happiness to you once again. Please, come back again and have a taste of immortality if you can." A flirtatious wink was the killing blow, wrapping his client around his finger with a wave of his hand. Seeing his employer off with more empty platitudes and charming smiles, Lăcrămioara didn't have to look to know that Master's disapproval was written all over the walls. Hate it all anyone wanted, but his tactics meant that customers would come back time and time again if it meant just another second with his charming persona. Really, it was much more entertaining this way to have mortals trip over themselves for his ethereal beauty
With his fun over, he went back to watching over the crowds. He would not be let out until night fell anyways, and so he would amuse himself by watching an Aurs stumbling clumsily through the throngs and those with masked intentions sweep by.
Gripping Ibaball closely, Ibaraki toddled through the halls of the current Eiríni base, greeting those that managed to catch a sight of the Oni with a face splitting smile. While Ibaraki didn't like being involved in any of the real planning or revenge happenings that went on in the organization, it was nice to be surrounded by something other than haunting ghosts and specters that lingered just outside of fragile memory. Humming nonsensical tunes to amuse whatever lingering regrets floated around in these dingy halls, Ibaraki peeked into a populated room full of stress and power. There they were, planning their next moves and staring intently at the threadbare map that they carried with them everywhere. The old paper was punctured with multiple thumbtacks where Eiríni missions both sucessful and not dotted to the sun bleached colours with bright pops.
With a determined nod to no one in particular, Ibaraki toddled into the room and made a beeline for whoever looked the most stressed and made to clamber into their lap. Silly adults and their silly plans. All they needed to worry about right now was that Ibaball was dirty and in need of a cleaning. Revenge or whatever big grown up words they liked to use could wait.
As he made his way to work, he kept an eye out for any strays, like normal. Once he finds one, he goes over, pulls out the small bag of cat treats, and gets some out, feeding it. After the stray finishes, he gives it a few pets, and goes to the mall, ready to clock in. This was the easiest part of his day, getting ready, since all the 'Karens' tend to make unnecessary problems. He still can't shake that one time he was called the manager all because he wasn't in uniform. now that was a weird day.
Hello, fellow humans(or whatever you identify as)! This is SomeJohnDoe(Call me Doe!)
Pfp was made by @Iridescent_Paradox!
My Cave(?)
My Shop!
Celine stared curiously at the fluffy white cloud that had just entered the room. He seemed to be clutching a dirty spherical ball of fluff, and she watched with interest as Ibaraki clambered onto the lap of a stressed looking adult.
Sixteen people in the room. Stress level: Slightly lowered
It seemed the adorable Oni had brought some relief to the people in the room. She couldn’t blame them, Ibaraki was so adorably huggable. Celine had been staring, heart-eyed at the Oni for a while, a soft ‘awwwwww’ escaping her lips. It seemed, however, that the person Ibaraki had been seating on had some knee pains, so it wouldn’t be good for Ibaraki to be sitting on them, however light that little fluffcloud might be. She motioned to Ibaraki to get off their lap.
The stage was set. The ever charismatic Andrea was ready to perform. With a honey tongued and a pretty face, she effortlessly captivated those offstage. She flashed the dealers with a bright smile that seemed like it could light up this entire black market. Mercado de la Muerte was by far her favorite playground. With a wink of the eye and a few well-chosen words, anyone would be more than happy to purchase her goods. It was hard not to feel at ease when Andrea was around, a figure of grace and finesse that could connect with people on a deep, emotional level. Despite being a regular human, Andrea had an innate understanding of human emotions and a talent for acting, allowing them to put on whatever ‘mask’ was needed to fit the others persona. Whether it's a heartfelt conversation with a ‘friend’ in need or a persuasive pitch in the black market, or perhaps just any regular, idle conversation, Andrea knows exactly what to say to leave a good impact. She knows exactly what you like, and what kind of person you respect, and can easily fit any persona required of her. Andrea’s eloquence was especially fitting in the black market, a magnet for potential buyers. A master of negotiation and manipulation, Andrea easily diffused hostility between dealers, or if she felt like it, caused hostility between them. Andrea was the lead actress, and the Mercado de la Muerte was her stage. As a new buyer approached, she observed them with a keen eye, smiling as she put on her ‘mask’. This buyer would be easily swayed, innocent prey who just needed a little more….intimate persuasion. “Ah! My good sir, would you perhaps be interested in this little Oni?” Andrea husks out, slender fingers gently brushing against the man’s shoulders and resting there. The man was stuttering a little now. How cute~ thought Andrea, smiling as the little squeeze she gave, paired with her alluring voice, sent shivers down the man’s spine. Just pull a few more strings…and the man would be hers. She hands over the contract, and the man signs immediately, entranced. “And this delightful little Oni is yours!”
In the shadowy underbelly of the Mercado de la Muerte, there exists a kelpie known only as "The Raven" - a cruel and merciless black market dealer, notorious for their cunning intellect and heart as cold as ice. Cloaked in darkness, the ever enigmatic Natalia operates in a world where morality holds no sway and empathy is a sign of weakness. A mastermind of the illegal trade, Natalia handled a vast array of goods ranging from unicorns to vampires. With a network of ruthless associates and one particular favorite- Andrea, at their disposal, she navigates the treacherous waters of the black market with calculated precision. The Raven is a name whispered in fear and awe, a symbol of power and ruthlessness that sends shivers down the spines of even the most hardened criminals.
Natalia is widely known for their complete lack of mercy, operating on a strict code of conduct: loyalty is rewarded, and betrayal is met with swift and brutal punishment. The Raven's clients dare not cross them, for they know that retribution will be unforgiving and unrelenting. The Raven's reputation for cruelty is well-earned, as she no qualms about exploiting the vulnerable, manipulating the desperate, and eliminating anyone who dares to challenge their authority. In dealings with The Raven, there are no second chances. Mistakes are not tolerated, and failure is met with consequences that serve as a grim warning to others. The Raven's aura of intimidation is so pervasive that even competitors think twice before encroaching on their territory. Andrea’s methods are as cunning as they are brutal, leaving no room for error and ensuring dominance in the cutthroat world of illicit trade. The Raven's operations are shrouded in secrecy, with only a select few trusted individuals privy to their true identity. A phantom in the criminal underworld, Andreas is every bit as ruthless as the humans, perhaps even more cruel, to both human and Unatural. Leaving behind a trail of fear and chaos, she always remains one step ahead, always slipping through the fingers of the UEA like a shadowy specter.
In the realm of black market dealings, The Raven stands as a chilling reminder of the darkness that can reside within the human soul. Her merciless approach to business, coupled with unmatched cunning, makes Natalia a force to be reckoned with, a symbol of the sinister underbelly of society where compassion and conscience hold no value. A black market dealer, Natalia sold both human and Unnatural, always sure to break her prey before selling them. After all, total obedience was expected of her goods, was it not? Which buyer would buy a rebellious slave anyways? Natalia didn’t just stop there, she harvested the organs of the Unaturals and Humans to sell to others, going above and beyond in all the wrong ways possible. If there was hell on earth, it would be wherever Natalia went.
Pain level of temporary human chair - mildly increased Celine noted.
Today was quite the interesting day, business appeared to be booming and the crowd was equivalent to one you'd see at a concert. Without all the flashing lights, music, and festivities of course, there wasn't nearly as much enjoyment to go around here. There were probably just about as many drug deals though, which Kakfa found the comparison humorous. Sure it might not be entirely accurate, but it gave her an excuse to look at the dreadful market in a different light.
Speaking of the market... Her eye caught some interesting individuals, some were even regulars she could recognize by name. Aurs, unicorns, vampires, ghouls, you name it. Even some prominent humans scattered around, probably making up most of the free walkers among this place. You were lucky to find an uncaged Unnatural around these parts, especially smart ones considering how stupid one would have to be to wander around. This place was essentially a glue trap for little rats, exactly what the humans saw them as. Kafka knew her honestly underwhelming and lazy disguise wouldn't hold forever, someone was bound to notice how odd she appeared, even if they didn't have a clue as to what her identity was.
Some desperate seller calling out random passersby, and she just so happened to be one of them, was decidedly her cue to move on. Do what she came here to do. Her walk along the entirety of the market wasn't without reason after all. As a zannie, her little dance with a wonderful thing called pain made it incredibly easy to pinpoint individuals, see where the most populated areas of the market were. Everyone is always constantly in pain, even the smallest amounts of it is detected by her "sixth sense." This would be the perfect time to insert the edgy "you can't run from Kafka" line, right?
After what seemed like hours, a few long, stressful, intimidating, and sweaty ones at that, there seemed to be a man who stood out among the rest. He had the unique jacket, paralyzing glare, impatient expression, and just seemed to be waiting for someone. Of course, Daavit automatically assumed this was the guy he was looking for, mostly due to his desperation for this hunt on his buyer to end. Of course, he couldn't end the journey without a slight inconvenience to tap the little scale his fragile temper rested on. An aur had ran by, he could tell just by looking at them. Nobody really cared about the species, considering they weren't on the "Dangerous Unnaturals List" and their parts sold for nearly nothing, so the encounter didn't mean much to him. Although, he had been careful and watchful this entire time, knowing that even the slightest mess-up could lead to his end. He'd seen it happen before, angry visitors getting ticked off by the slightest brush and starting a massive fight, which never ended up well considering how at least 50% of the people here had a firearm.
And well... He had to admit, he was on edge from the moment he got that call. Even more so when he finally arrived at this damned market. Something didn't seem right about the details, or lack thereof, and the method of exchange was... Unorthodox, to say the least. Plus, not to admit the fact that he was one of the most highly hunted Unnaturals, and not only because he was a unicorn. He had to hand it to his species, powdered unicorn bone was highly addictive, but his nearly nonexistent morals won the battle and he decided to not become a junkie on cannibalism. At least, not for that specific drug.
Actually nevermind, he valued his life too much to even take more than the recommended dose of ibuprofen and this job already gave him enough energy drinks to last a lifetime of any substance he could possibly take.
Back to his paranoia. He was already a massive seller on the black market, his alias becoming one of the more well-known names floating around. He did his job and he did it well, many knew to turn to him if they ever needed anything specific or something that not many others were willing to do. He always did this in the shadows, careful about how things were handled. So being out in the open like this, completely exposed and vulnerable, was not exactly his style. Normally he would send a hire out to do the deed instead, but the buyer made sure to specifically request his presence. Again, normally he would work around this, but the way they spoke and the instructions they gave, it set him off. Sure he didn't get the entirety of the message due to his drowsiness, but he got enough to tell. He could've just turned down the deal, yes, but the caller was strangely insistent. Daavit felt like he couldn't turn it down even if he wanted to. He could almost feel the line of red pointed straight at his skull that morning, like that entire thing was a threat. Too bad it was an ungodly hour, and not even someone like him was immune to the effects of tiredness.
Wait for it... And... Yeah, there ya go. It finally clicked for him, took him long enough. Worst possible place too, he was just standing in the middle of the crowd, looking like an idiot, the guy he was supposed to meet right in his line of sight. The phone call, the instructions, the voice, the circumstances... How the hell did he not notice? An embarrassing mistake to make for a highly experienced dealer like himself. No one should've been able to get his personal contact information, the buyer called directly to Daavit's personal phone. They must've known it was extremely early in the morning for him as well, making it the perfect time to catch him off guard. That voice, he had the slightest feeling that it was familiar. Sadly, his gut can't be trusted minutes upon waking up, all it will tell him is that they want food. That voice that he knew all too well, the voice that started this hell in the first place. Even if Daavit caught onto the "calling the personal phone" trick early on, losing them the element of surprise, the initial hostility he would have upon catching the trick would've woken him right up to recognize the voice from the get-go. That call would tell him that they knew who he was now, they knew where he lived, they knew his phone number. They knew he would piece it together sooner or later, and they were counting on it. In fact, speak of the devil, the man in the jacket eventually spotted him and smirked. Even through the hood, even through the mask, and even through the well hidden hellhound pup.
They knew.
And that smirk said it all. Daavit wasn't even sure how he didn't recognize the man, not until that dreadful smirk appeared, one that hid a thousand stories. A zannie, one he knew more than he wished to. Now, if you recall, zannies are often used by the big, bad, and scary people for a little play time. I think you can figure out the details from here.
Come on, he was supposed to be better than this! For heaven's sake he knew how to keep himself alive this long, knew how to deal with the shady business, how did he even slip up now of all times?
...Come to think of it, he didn't remember ever falling asleep last night. He just remembered waking up feeling overly tired, assuming it was just the lack of sleep. Maybe he got too comfortable living his secluded, seemingly protected life and dropped his guard a bit too much. He was definitely drugged, one that worked in mysterious ways, and this was the consequence of his naivety. Well, too late to think about that now, at the moment he was a little preoccupied thinking of ways to get the hell out of here. That guy and the voice on the other end of the phone were the reasons he hated this place so much. Gotta make sure your precious little characters have an edgy backstory, ammiright?
Before he knew it, the clicking of freshly loaded guns surrounded him in every direction, people once part of the crown now stood in place and locked him in. The man in the odd jacket only came closer, that same goddamn smirk plastered across his face. Daavit didn't even bother with escape, he knew his fate was sealed. Nobody in the crowd bothered to help him either, this was just a usual occurrence at a place as scummy as this. Runaway prisoners were captured, valuable Unnaturals were seized, all that sort, it was never something that the wanderers worried about. Anyone who was in danger by the situation would play it smart and sneak their way out, easily making it out safely.
"Well well well, look who decided to come back for more."
She was a little scared herself, slowly turning around and, fortunately, seeing that there were no guns aimed at her. She fumbled with her wallet, shoving it back into her purse before inspecting the noise. The dealer she was going to buy from seemed agitated when she left.
She ducked and weaved through the crowd. Nobody seemed fazed by the noise of guns, nor the scene that was unfolding nearby. She watched what was going on, very confused. She gave a puzzled look to the guy in the middle who had just about billion and a half guns pointed at him.
Again, she was very not careful. Might I add kinda not smart as well.
There was a clamor not too far from his cage as Lăcrămioara looked up. Leaning forward to look around his Master's table, he couldn't quite figure out what was happening, just that someone seemed to be surrounded. Looking to see his Master returning his gaze with a judgemental arc of a brow, Lăcrămioara only smiled with a shrug of his shoulders. What could he say, he loved to make other people's business his own. Choice words were mumbled under his Master's breath but the cage that kept the hungry vampire locked away from polite society melted away in a shower of golden sugar and lights. Almost like a trade off, red rope bound his throat in a band of magic to tether him to his owner. Clearly merchandise if people knew what to look for, a rabid dog firmly muzzled.
"Gentlemen, have you ever learned that business is best conducted at a bargaining table or behind closed doors? Blocking an entire market street is simply not the way to go about things. You're disturbing my precious Master's business." The vampire purred, appearing in a whirl of tattered fabric behind who he assumed was the ringleader by his incredibly fancy jacket. It wasn't the first time he had stepped into one of these altercations nor would it be the last, an incredibly efficient way of conducting business by offering his services to tame unruly unnaturals prone to running away. But this one, this one Lăcrămioara had an itching feeling might be a bit different and he always was attracted to the blood-pumping danger of reckless unknown danger
The guy surrounded by the armed gunmen was clearly in danger. Life-threatening stuff or something of that nature. Unimportant. What was important, however, was the absolute ruckus they were causing. The sight of gunmen with weapons were triggering a pandemonium, right here in the Mercado de la Muerte. And Andrea couldn’t have that, could she? Pandemonium meant fear and confusion. And that meant business was going to be affected. She frowned, quickly finishing off her trade and handing over the Oni to whoever the buyer was, before getting one of her men to watch over the store as she went to check out what the commotion was. “Well, well, well, gentlemen~ Quite the party we have here, don’t you think? If you have business to carry out, please do so elsewhere. Away from the hotspots of the Mercado de la Muerte. I have business to conduct, you know.” Andrea drawled, blowing rings of smoke as she took another drag from her cigar. Cold red eyes glared at the party before her through oval shades, as she fiddled absentmindedly with the blue rose in her hair.
Ah…There was Lăcrămioara. A frequenter of this market, the supposed hunter that was hunted. Keen eyes took in his stature, noting the red collar of magic around his neck. Interesting. And that girl…presumably a buyer, looked a little too timid to be a dealer. She should be running from this kind of ruckus. Ah, and of course. The main actor in this scene- Daavit. Fame rivaling that of hers and Lăcrămioara, it seemed the notable names of the infamous Mercado de la Muerte had all been attracted to this in one way or another, like flies to a lamp.
Andrea could only presume that Lăcrămioara was here for the same reasons as her- business was being disturbed. Honestly, she had never expected someone like Daavit to get himself so foolishly caught. But then again…?
How Kei enjoyed mingling with the locals.
...Yes, mingling with the locals. He never kidnapped some of them for his own experiments.
Of course not. Because that would be utterly ridiculous.
His native Japanese hadn't been touched in a long time- Kei rarely thought of his home anyway.
Right now? Kei didn't have anything suspicious in the black duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Absolutely not. No sirree. No useless human or unnatural body parts ready for burning here. No, never. That would be insane!
He kept the smile plastered on his face, cordially greeting everyone he came across. Nobody questioned the foreign man with purple hair and a duffel bag over his shoulder. What was there to question? He was just your friendly neighborhood Nice Guy™!
It definitely wasn't because of the revolver at his waist.
He hummed a jovial tune, navigating through the crowd expertly.
Oh, he was having so much fun! What a wonderful day! The only problem was that there were a few too many people. Well, that couldn't be helped.
It made it easier to take some... products, without notice, anyway.
he hummed, as he passed into an alleyway, carefully opening the duffel bag. He pulled the black trash bag out, throwing it onto the ground.
He took out, from under the bloody trash bag, a few pieces of chopped firewood, and dumped out a pile of tinder- dried leaves and sticks and whatnot.
He tossed the duffel bag next to the pile and pulled a match out. With a flick of his wrist, he lit the match and dropped it onto the fire.
"...nothing like some fire to start things off, yeah?"
wickedness?
Or is it
weakness?
You decide.
As the meeting ended, she stood up from her chair and offered her gloved hand to the young Oni. “Let’s get your friend cleaned, hm?”