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Re: Raconteur City: The Night Begins

 

?The sun has just set on a small little town just east of New Orleans.? Unlike the big city, this little town has it's own night life.? The vampires like to come out and play, the spellcasters like to find ways to work the night's magic into their craft.? Slowly the demons decide they want to play and find ways to make that happen.? All in all, the night has come and it is time for the supernatural to play.

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(Pyp)

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LaPorte was awakened by shouts and shooting from the other room. The girl he had with him was startled awake as well. "Benny?" she asked nervously, sitting up in the bed beside him in the dark.

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"Shhhh!" La Porte hissed, picking up his gun from the nearby bed-stand and pointing it at the bedroom door.? There was a flurry of noise - screams, sounds of struggling, furniture being knocked about, things hitting the wall or floor heavily - and then sudden silence.

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"Shit," La Porte muttered, keeping his gun on the door. This shouldn't be happening. Shin was dead.? His fucking demon was supposed to be gone.? Gone, dammit.?

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He was half-expecting the door to be kicked in, but instead it simply swung open, revealing a dark shadow with glowing red eyes in the doorway.? The girl screamed and he began shooting, but after the second shot the shadow simply waved an arm and the gun flew out of his hand, hitting the wall before falling to the floor with a heavy thudding clunk.

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"Really?" the demon said disdainfully, glancing down at the new holes in his chest and then looking up again.? "Your guards already ruined my suit.? This is just adding insult to injury."

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The girl was still screaming and pointing at the demon, who merely gave her an annoyed look. "Back to sleep, you," he said, making a complex finger-gesture at her. The girl's eyes rolled up in her head and she fell back into the bed, unconscious.?

That done, the demon looked again to La Porte. At another gesture, the lights in the room flicked on to reveal a handsome if rather disheveled-looking young Korean whose sharply-tailored suit was now soaked with blood and spattered with gore. But even with the light now on, his eyes continued to gleam an unearthly red.

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"Wh-what do you want?" La Porte asked, trying hard to keep his fear off of his face and to keep his voice from sounding like he was on the edge of shitting his bed.

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"You killed my boss," the demon said, stepping further into the room, pulling a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket.? "Do you have _any_ idea how bad that makes me look?? Any idea at all?" He wiped streaks of blood spatter from his popstar flower-boy face, eyed the now-crimson handkerchief dubiously, then shrugged and stuffed it back into his pocket.? "No, you don't," he went on, returning his glare to La Porte.? "Because you're a dumb two-bit wannabe who got into stuff _way_ over your pay grade."

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"How did you find me?" Stall, stall, the gangster's mind screamed. Maybe he didn't get all of your guards. Maybe someone heard the shots and will come to check. Maybe--

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"Wasn't that hard, really." The demon casually reached into his other jacket pocket and drew out a plastic baggie with a hand in it - a woman's hand - and tossed it onto the bed.? "Once I got your hit-girl, I had you." Eyeing the hand, he shook his head and sighed.? "I told Shin that his weakness for pretty girls would be the death of him. He thought I was kidding." He rolled his eyes as he added "the fucking moron."

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"I... I've got money," La Porte ventured, licking his lips anxiously.? "Wall safe, back of the closet. You can have it al-"

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"You really are one ignorant little shit," the demon said, turning away to look himself over in a large wall mirror on the other side of the room. "You think money matters to me?" Taking a comb out, he began meticulously trying to smooth his disheveled black locks into place.? "You know what money can buy you in Hell?" he asked, letting the question hang in the air while he finished his grooming.? "Nothing," he said finally, slipping the comb back into his pocket.? "That's what.? Not a damned thing."

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"And now, because of you..." the demon turned yet again to face La Porte, eyeing him with distaste "...I've gotta hope someone summons me before my three days are up. If not, I get ripped back to Hell.? And you know what? I fucking _hate_ hell.? It's boring. Nothing but endless, eternal damnation. _Here_..." he said, gesturing at the world around him "...here is where the real action is."

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The gangster blinked, his fear-addled brain trying to process what he'd just heard.? Three... days?

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"Oh, you didn't know about that, did you?" the demon said, smirking at La Porte's visible distress.? "If our summoner dies for any reason, we don't get zapped back right away. We get three days before Hell can reclaim us.? That gives us three days to hope a new summons comes through. Three days to have one last blow-out of a fling while we still can.? Or three days to take care of any unfinished business." As he spoke, the demon began to fully emerge, from the horns that now adorned his head, the bat-like wings arcing out over his shoulders, and the barbed tail whisking restlessly behind him.? "Like you," he said, leaning in close till his bright red eyes were blazing only inches away from the gangster's.? "_You're_ my unfinished business."

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"It took me one day to track you down. That leaves two days. Two days for you and me to get _real_ close..." the demon hissed, running a taloned finger down the side of La Porte's profusely sweating face, even as the air became redolent with the smell of the gangster shitting himself "...before I finally send you downstairs."

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"But why waste the time?" the demon said suddenly, grinning as he withdrew his talon from the gangster's neck.? "I'd much rather spend the two days drinking, eating and fucking than waste them on an insignificant little shit like you. So, down you go!"?

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La Porte barely had time to blink before the demon abruptly tore into his chest and ripped his heart out, holding the still-beating thing up before his eyes even as his body went into convulsions and his vision began to fade.

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"And hey..." the demon's voice seemed to come from far away as the gangster felt himself inexplicably falling while still thrashing about on the bed "...when you get there, tell them Pyp sent you."

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(Cho)

Cho woke up feeling like crap, stomped under the heel, and couldn¡¯t get it off the bottom of some storm giant¡¯s shoe.? He normally felt so much better after absorbing the essence of some supernatural it gave him normally at least another 90 days or so.? But this one was a wolf, that had killed so many that the taint was on his very soul.?? It made Cho feel vile and want vomit even though he had done a good thing by sending the creature to hell.? That part of him still felt the pain of all those slain, their hopes, dreams, their potential.? But he spent most of his time last night writing their loved ones letters of closure and he couldn¡¯t go to sleep until he had.? It was part of his process.? He hunted¡­monsters and sometimes those monsters were not vampires or wolves sometimes they were altogether human¡­but he couldn¡¯t get a recharge off of those souls.

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?He got up to shower again, just to refresh himself.? He came back and got dressed, having moisturized his chocolate naked form.? He was scheduled to work at the club tonight, so he had to go into his office for the day.? It was his front for his true job, he worked in IT cause of his skills and typically gave him access to certain information that was the backbone of his man job.? It was the commodity that he dealt in, those that had information either came to him or shared with him cause like those he worked for¡­he paid well for it.? He checked the house alarm twice as was his habit before he drove to the office for a little bit.? He looked at a few of his voicemails on his office system that matched his cell phone, so he deleted those.? He got himself some of his energy drink, but he was glad that one of his clients was able to make him that ring that he ordered, he never left without it once he had enchanted it for a specific purpose.? He again made it a point to lock the door and set the alarm system twice before he headed to the club.?

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Once he arrived at the club, he looked over the bouncer who didn¡¯t look that much bigger than he did, but that was the deception of the shapeshifter that was far stronger than what he looked.? He chuckled only to fist bump him as he walked in.

¡°I will have your drink for you later,¡± Cho said.

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?¡°How about that kiss?¡±? the bouncer replied.

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?He arched his eyes at the man¡¯s words.? ¡°I don¡¯t swing that way!¡±? It was part of their regular banter.

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?¡°I can be a woman for you?!?¡±? He winked.

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?¡°Depends on how drunk I get¡­I will think about it.¡±? He shook his head and went into the back, to clock in.? After that he came back out and moved behind the bar,? as he began to set up his bar how he liked it putting stuff in place, checking his stock before the regulars came in, and the bachelorette party that was scheduled for the night.? He was in some dark jeans and his sleeves were rolled up which revealed his rather muscular arms.

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?¡°Sup Cho?¡±? The lush redhead waitress spoke to him.

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?¡°Hey cutie, how you doing?¡±? He smiled licking his lips more out of habit then him thinking she was on the menu.

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?¡°Needed for you to be here so I can get bigger tips?¡±? She replied.

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?¡°I thought all of your days were big not just when I am here?¡± He looked at her.?

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?¡°I am looking for a tip in particular.¡±? She winked now.

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?This time he blushed seemed like everyone was in a mood tonight or the last soul he had absorbed had a kind of animal magnetism associated with it that had been passed on to him now.? Not that he minded the attention, but what part was him and what part was the energy he had absorbed.? He was aware that it wasn¡¯t him all the time.? ¡°I can add you to my dance card if you give me your number."? He winked after he composed himself.? He could only hope this lasted long enough for him to perhaps get a real date.


[Kutsuki]

Kutsuki was running around his room, cackling like a madman to himself.? He has been preparing for this moment for so long that he almost didn't even know what to do with himself.? Years upon years was spent pouring through all sorts of dark tomes, myriads of dusty old demonic scrolls and back bent over the computer screen, researching the literal digital hell that was the interweb.? Months and months and months of waiting, planning, staking out, syncing up everyone's schedules, playing the good ole child routine - all of it was driving him nuts!? But no longer...the wait would have been so worth it.? All the failures and the mistakes, all the minute adjustments that he's had to make...all the candles had to be precisely and methodically placed, the wax meticulously etched with the spells of protection so as to create a barrier.? Ingredients of the more exotic variety had to be procured, raiding almost every single occult shop, witches' dens, various voodoo shops of which there were many in the French Quarter of New Orleans, and many more.? Eye of newt, still-beating heart of a goat, dead man's hangnails - these were the most common of the available assortment.? A swatch of hair from a twice old maid, the ring finger of the thrice scorned bride, with the ring still attached...that last one made him giggle with barely contained glee.? These were nigh difficult to get ahold of since they all required precise and impeccable timing.? However, one could find almost anything they wanted in Rancoteur if they just knew where to look, or threatened to burn down a place or two, and actually followed through with it.

All the furniture has been off to the sides, the bed stood up on its edge against the wall.? Bookcases, shelves, anything with a solid surface was arranged in such a way as to make a half circle, like the crescent moon.? All the books, every single page was in some way, shape or form dedicated to the occult.? Kutsuki has leafed through all of them at least three or four times in his periods of fixated obsession.? Today was no different, no...? Today WAS going to be different.? He slid to a halt in front of his bedroom mirror, the "Den of No Return" he called it, taking a moment to compose himself.? His hair, as white as a freshly fallen snow, sat disheveled upon his face, using his left hand to push it out of his face, but yet falling right back, hiding the right side of his face.? He raised his chin, a flippant sort of look on his face as he pushed the squarish glasses back up with a middle finger.? His eyes narrowed as they fell upon the book that sat half opened at his bedside table.? Reaching for it, he flipped it fully open, his fingers landing on the pages that described the sort of garb a demonic summoner would wear, but who cared for that?? He looked back at the mirror, twirling about as his reflection mimicked his movements.

"<Do demons really care what you wear on the day of their summoning?>" he asked himself in Japanese, idly tilting the hand that held the book off to the side.? Kutsuki turned this way and that, examining his garb.? He wore what he always wore inside the house, a a black pair of under armor tights and long sleeved shirt, coupled with that indigo colored, 3/4 sleeved sweater that was too sizes too large on him, one side always sliding off of one of his shoulders.? It was worn almost like a tunic, pooling around his thighs like a skirt.? No shoes.? Absolutely none.? He preferred being barefoot inside his home, one habit that he would never ever change about himself.? Fingers and toes always applied with black nail polish, that was a must.? "A comfy, goth look," his unwanted circle cult of followers labelled, that insufferable gaggle of chickens that followed at his every step, always at a distance, making his skin crawl with just their presence alone.? Just like the chicken that laid across the silver tray with its neck cut wide open, oozing blood out of its gullet, pooling around an expertly drawn pentagram, its various circles inlaid with long forgotten Latin, inscription that called upon the deepest, darkest depth.? Smirking at its reflection, Kutsuki haphazardly tossed the book aside, shrugging his wide shoulders.? "<The fuck is he gonna care?? He's dead when he gets here anyhow.>"

Whirling around to face the demonic circle, Kutsuki picked up another one, this one leather bound in in black and red.? The words that revealed the contents of the book were filigreed with gold, a sort of way too fanciful font for a demon summoning book.? And yet, it described its inhabitant to a T, a demon unlike the most of his kind, the ones that his "original" parents wanted to summon, with him as its sacrifice.? The type of demon who employed madness through the bountiful harvest of wealth that it bestowed upon its master, and he used that word loosely, because in the end, who was the master of whom?? Certainly not their summoner.? It was that very demon that Kutsuki was wanting to bring forth, to let that asshole taste the air of Earth again, and then rip him apart in a most magnificent way, to pay him back for having rejected his vessel so long ago.? Oh, today was going to be a day of reckoning, but not for Kutsuki, but rather for his unwilling demonic slave.? His mouth twisted into the most sadistic smile, lips letting loose a psychotic, clownish sort of laugh as he titled his head back, eventually stopping until only the quietest hiccup could be heard and then none after.? Looking back at the circle, he briefly glanced back at the myriad of tools that lay at his disposal.? Various consecrated and sanctified tools lay about, divvied up into the various religions that they came from.? Purified salts, voodoo dolls, crossed, silver daggers, you name it, he had it.? If there was ever someone unprepared, it was not him.

"<Let's get this party started!>" he shouted with such exuberance, opening his arms wide as the air suddenly became extremely oppressive.? The wavering flames that bit at the candle wicks they sat upon were suddenly deathly still.? As he began chanting, Kutsuki's eyes began to glow bright, a fiery crimson red even more pronounced in the dimness of the room.? The book that he held now flew in front of him, violently ripped open as the pages kept flipping until they at last came to the dead middle, portraying the pentagram circle much like the one that Kutsuki drew, though much less defined and ugly.? A slew of words graced the pages, though it was not the Latin that it spoke of, but the crudely scrawled language of the demons as if written by a claw.? It is what he suddenly began speaking, a sort of inhuman, guttural type of language that sounded as if it came from the underbelly of hell, like the rough bray of an old goat.? The pentagram began glowing a fiery red, much like his eyes, as he felt his body float, just the tips of his toes touching the bare floor.? A wind picked up in the room, threatening to blow the flames out that dearly held onto their wicked lives.? As he brought his hands together, a flash of light glinted off a metal edge as he winced and turned his right hand palm down, as rivulets of blood dripped randomly upon the floor.

"<I summon thee, you old reviler of tongues, the desecrator of the commonwealth, ruiner of prosperity!>" Kutsuki called out, his voice sounding akin to mad, barking dog, sweeping his hand over the circle as blood dripped down to the edge of his undershirt, wetting the fibers.? The rest of what he spoke was unintelligible.? "<Come out, come out, you bastard of the underworld!? You adulterated mongrel.? Heed your master's call!? I summon thee!>"? Let's see you get out of this one, you son of a bitch!

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Tag: Cat D., Scott, Babs, Amy, Whitt, Charlie, Luuka
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