Twisted Genetics

An escape for those who need it.


    "This again."

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    Ludo
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    "This again."

    Post by Ludo on Tue Jul 19, 2016 5:08 am

    Daniel could hardly remember checking in. Let alone falling asleep in the chair after facing it to the door. As his eyes blinked open, he found himself staring at the latch on the door. A knock repeated then the door knob twisted. A soft accented voice called out 'House Keep-' but quit when the latch jolted and held the door from opening further. There was a moment longer as the door closed quietly and Daniel stood to ready himself. The sound of a cart being pushed along followed by the soft sweep of footsteps of a heavy set woman as she went to the next room.

    Once he heard the soft knock upon the door in the next room he started to relax some. He then rubbed at his face and looked around the shaded dark room that was fixed with reds and wood tones. The carpet he remembered was a dark green, though looked black with the lights out. The south and north walls showed signs of stains from smokers. In fact even years after the 'no smoking' sign had been put up he could still smell the stale hint of tobacco. An old painting of the ocean hung on the west wall between the bed and near the bedside table. It, too, had seen better days. A hint of yellow stains and cracked paint marred the possibly once beautiful art piece. The wall behind him had a small boarded up window with 60s flowered drapes closed over the top of it. As if that somehow hid the soft gusts of wind from a broken window. The bed itself was still made, but had that stale scent of age clinging to it.

    ~Housekeeping. As if.~ He had thought to himself as he inspected his current habitat. With a tilt of his head a soft crack was heard and a stiff pain would make it's way from his shoulder up to the back of his skull. With a sigh he moved forward to the bathroom. Mold would be the first thing he noticed when he pushed the door open. All sorts of mold, but he was not a fungi specialist. He just knew that bitter smell of it. He flicked on the light and moved to stand in front of the mirror to inspect his image carefully.

    He would avoid full on eye contact with his reflection, but focus on the bruises and scrapes upon his face neck chest and arms. Though he had healed up quiet a bit since his fight, there was still evidence of it. He could clean up well, put on some nice clothing for his meeting, but there would still be a noticeable roughness to his appearance. His eyes would drift down to the sink in front of him, his hand turned the knob for hot water and only heard the rattling of plumbing as it desperately tried to shove something through the pipes. What came out was a dark reddish brown liquid that dripped then sprayed the inside of the sink. Though it smelled heavy of rust, there was a hint of sewage along with it. He quickly turned it off and looked at the old toilet. The seat was missing and the bowl itself had a crack deep enough to be visible in the flickering florescent light.

    "Deodorant shower it is." He mumbled and moved back into the room with his bag. As he dug through his bag he pulled out some blue jeans and a light blue button down shirt that he would sit atop the table. He then pulled out some socks and a bottle of old spice body spray. He would take a moment to dig around in his bag before he found the pouch that held a tooth brush, comb and a electric shaver. He shoved the toothbrush in his mouth then pulled out the comb and started to rake it through his hair while he pulled it back and tied it off with an old hair tie. He reached in and pulled out his electric shaver. Held it up and flicked the switch to turn it on. Without much thought he raised it up to his face to start shaving but suddenly paused and looked at it.Silence had followed the flicking of the on off button. He attempted two more times before he tossed it back down to the bag and chewed in frustration at his toothbrush.

    He moved back into the bathroom and snagged the complimentary toothpaste out of the ratty plastic basket on the back of the toilet. It came out in a thick chalk like fashion, but at least it had that familiar mint and baking soda flavor to it. He used the cheap knock off mouth wash to help rinse his mouth once he was done brushing and then took a moment to look at his toothbrush. Then looked down into the filthy sink of brown water and now white and green spots where he had spit into it. He tossed the toothbrush down into the sink and moved back into the other room. He stripped down and sprayed himself with the body spray before he dressed in his clean jeans and shirt. Packed all of his belongings back up before he looked around the room one more time. Content he had gathered all his things from this place, he unlatched the door and walked out. Leaving it open.

    He glanced down the walkway at the cart that had somehow made it all the way down to the end of the rooms on the second floor of the building. It had maybe one stack of yellow towels on it and a trash can. He figured that maybe, if there were any cleaning supplies at all, she had them with her. He shouldered his bag and made his way down the stairs quickly and quietly moving to the street. The chill of the morning was unexpected, but he knew he might be able to generate up some heat by walking to the museum on foot. It would be nearly ten blocks away with the route he planned out.
    He Walked and ducked across streets when it looked clear enough.

    He eventually stopped at a small cafe to get some water. As he came out he heard a soft clunk of something hit the ground and turned to his left to see a red haired woman bent over. Her face obscured from view by a old guitar case. Her voice barely loud enough to carry her curses as she picked up a canvas bag and some books that seemed to fall out of it when the seam split. He hung for a moment then the honk of a car horn reminded him he needed to continue on. He turned away before he could inspect the girl further or even give thought to helping her out.

    By the time he got to the Amethyst Court Museum, the sun had started to peek over the top of the buildings. He stood for a moment and looked across the street at the park that was heavily fenced in. The small bit of green in such a thick City was nice and gave him a sense of calm. As a woman walked out of the double doors he turned to watch her for a moment. Dark jet black hair and guiding her daughter along side her by the hand.

    "No Mommy! It is all real! Dragons are real!" The little girl said.

    "That's right Bridget! They sure are." The mother chuckled. Daniel simply raised an eyebrow and looked into the windows of the building only to see himself looking back. He watched as the mother and daughter made their way over to a bus stop before he himself made his way into the building.
    After the morning at the Dingy Stars Motel, this was a welcomed experience. Clean, smooth wood floors. Soft pale lights shown down on beautiful paintings. The soft hint of wild flowers that hung in the air and gave the place a sense of wonder. The first painting he would see would be that of a water creature of some sort. He paused looking at it, then around the first floor only to realize he was the only one there at that moment. Slowly he made his way further in, stopping to look at each of the amazingly well done paintings of... fictional creatures.

    ~Is...This looks more like an Art Gallery than a Museum.~ He thought to himself as he paused in front of a painting of Elvin creatures dancing in a elaborately decorated meadow. He moved slow to the next photo of a centaur then of orcs. There was a soft push in his mind, one that felt as if the pressure of the weather changing, of which he would ignore. ~I can't imagine creatures like that existing. Then again.. Monsters like myself and the devil exist...~ He continued in thought. ~Course, no bigger monster than myself. The Devil will make sure of that.. How long till they no longer need me? Does it matter? All us monsters eradicated... course then who would The Devil torture if I were gone?~ His eyes seemed to become a steal set gaze on the painting in front of him. The white wolf next to a blond haired elf who snuggled up next to it. ~Can I do this again?~ There was a long moment of silence in his mind then a sudden turn to his left once again as he caught the feeling of eyes upon him.

    Shock set into his features for only a split second. ~Whoa...~ crossed his mind. Before him stood a beautiful young woman with blond hair. A hint of purple in her striking eyes. She was dressed in a soft purple dress that hung from her body in a delicate fashion.

    "Hey..uhm. I'm not in your way am I?" There was a hint of a smirk, or so he thought. It could have just as easily been a disgusted sneer that flickered across her expression before she offered a painted smile. "I"m just looking for a woman named Lydia?" The american accent stood out strong considering where they were. His green hazel eyes focused upon her for a moment in silence as she seemed to inspect him. If not for the hint of bruises and scrapes upon his stubble face, he might pass for decent looking. A hint of self consciousness would pass over him. The feeling of ~I don't belong here.~ sank heavy into his mind as she continued to look him over.
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    Lydia
    The Curator

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    Re: "This again."

    Post by Lydia on Wed Aug 03, 2016 12:15 am

    It was another slow day at the museum. Children came more frequently with the advent of summer, but silence took her more often than not. Her primary company when not in the presence of her children was a chipper brunette, Miranda, who aided her mostly with managing the Psion's Heart Cafe and occasionally scheduling landscapers on her behalf to tend to the tranquility gardens next door. The help was appreciated: she couldn't do it all on her own.

    Bridget and her mother marked two of the final guests for that afternoon. Her tours were scheduled for other days, but the children were often welcome to explore a newly implemented interactive center to learn on their own without the storytelling of the curator. Bridget had, of course, caught Lydia on one of her more impish days, and she'd seemingly sold her on the true existence of dragons, once again knowing well that the young girl would more than likely grow out of this belief as she aged.

    Humans had every idea what sorts of creatures lived under their very noses, and yet they more often than not denied it as myth or legend. A pity, really.

    Daniel had almost immediately caught her attention, her attempt at sneaking into his mind piquing her curiosity. Very little brought her joy those days, but his reaction, at least, brought her amusement. The scratches and bruises marring his visage did not go unnoticed, but she avoided bringing further attention to them. Instead, she smiled as she heard him.

    "You would have to actively try to be in my way, dear. Do not worry."

    An attentive gaze rested upon him and followed itself up with that same polite smile she often gave. Sure enough, he struck her as a handsome individual even with the injuries, though it wasn't for her to judge. If she caught those impressions of thought, she gave no indication of this either, and she instead looked as kindly upon him as she could.

    ... But that knowing gleam in her eye likely snuck out at one point or another.

    "You have found her. How might I be of service?"

    Did she really already know he was the one she was waiting for? It was perhaps possible. Maybe that was why a lightness carried along in her tone.
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    Ludo
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    Re: "This again."

    Post by Ludo on Wed Aug 03, 2016 4:47 am

    The soft smirk that had started to appear at the corner of his mouth quickly faded when she said -she- was who he was looking for. He stood for a long moment, his eyes focused upon her as if he were trying to read her mind himself.

    "You're Lydia?" He seemed to ask. He could not help but look her up and down then around the building and gave a nod. "I was told to come to you for.. whatever information.." His stance seemed to change, hands going into his pockets, shoulders bent forward some. "You don't seem like the type to work with the Devil." he muttered to her. "Do you have an office or something?" he asked glancing out the windows.

    It wasn't so much that she was beautiful that was catching him off guard. Part of him wondered just what she was. Another demon? She sure as hell didn't look like one. If he could believe in such things, he might have thought her an angel. Her young face was probably what was unsettling. When she had spoken, even her presence and demeanor seemed to speak timeless ages to him. Or maybe she was just like him.. no. The beasts like him didn't know how to dress or hold themselves in such a way.

    Grace.. poise. All those and more words could come to mind as he watched her. For such a youthful looking woman, this didn't quite fit for -his- kind.

    ~What has you in the Devil's pocket?~ he thought to himself. He did not know she could read his mind.. nor that she was at that moment. ~Or are you the one he works for?~
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    Lydia
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    Re: "This again."

    Post by Lydia on Thu Aug 04, 2016 3:05 am

    Her expression brightened, her amusement conveyed with a tight-lipped smile that managed to cause creases in the corners of her eyes. "All the better for me to work with him, don't you think?" That same impishness lingered; girl really needed to get out more if this was all it took to entertain her. His surprise and any others' never seemed to grow old to her. She only nodded at his question at first, then gestured back the way he came. "It's a bit more of a walk, but my office is located in my apartment. I felt safer keeping it much closer to home, and it's much easier for me to work that way. You understand, don't you?"

    Her knowledge of him, for the most part, only went as far as what she had been told about him prior. But more than that, it likely didn't take a telepath to pick up on how low he thought his own kind. Part of her was inclined to agree with him, thanks to that centuries-old grudge. ... But another part was saddened by this. He was not directly responsible for what earlier generations of his kind had done.

    Ultimately, her grudge won out again. Her polite expression stuck. Her smirk widened at his thoughts as she took a step or two toward the doors leading out so that she could bring them to the office. But as she did, there was a bounce in her step and a brief flicker in her gaze as she responded to his very thoughts.

    ~We are equals, he and I. If I am 'in his pocket' in any fashion, it is due to an old debt.~

    She said nothing aloud - merely looked sidelong at him and smiled knowingly, continuing toward the door as if nothing had happened.

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