You know.... I just..... I feel so betrayed by the internet.....
I can't even speak properly. My trust in it will never grow back. Forever it it shall be considered unreliable.
I hope you are happy internet. Well done.
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I was went to some nice shops the other day. All of them had swords, throwing knives/starts, tasers, and walking sticks-swords. Needless to say, I felt compelled to buy something, being a guy and all.
Here is my little wakizashi:
And here are my little throwing knives:
Notice how I already messed up the beautifully wrapped handle. Oh well.
Now, enough gag-lollying.
Chapter...... (Checks which one is next) Chapter Three! Enjoy:
Chapter Three: You
got a Friend in me.....
Vlaedr strode out of
the building and turned around. The building was grey and drab, and used to be
an office. Now it was rust stained at the edges and the windows were fogged
over. Oh, and it was the London Sanctuary. But that didn’t matter. Because
Vlaedr was hungry. No food had appeared in the Sanctuary. Just more of those
crunchy-looking Scythe people.
Vlaedr felt for his
M9, securely strapped to his ribs, under his jacket. He made sure his Ka-Bar
was also secure on his inner thigh, and loosened it to make a quick draw easy.
His grenades were in a plastic bag in his hand. He still hadn’t figured out
where to strap them.
As he walked down the
side walk, heading towards the Thames, he thought about everything that the Grand
Mages or whatever they were called, had said. Basically they wanted him to work
for them. But he didn’t want to. He had been mad that no food had been
provided.
Vlaedr passed a few
coffee shops, side stepping where someone had spilled. They had been quite
persistent, but Vlaedr had simply said he had been controlled his whole life,
and no more. So they had offered him a free-lance job. Whatever that meant. He
had asked politely for food in payment for being a free-lancer. Nothing.
An oncoming cyclist whizzed
by Vlaedr, almost hitting him. He growled. They had told him of reports coming
from South America, that something dire was happening there. Only vague
messages were coming through, but things sounded bad. Bad sorcerers. Evil
things. Nothing to do with food.
Vlaedr stopped at the
edge of the bridge, looking at the murky water below, called the Thames River.
They wanted him to visit the Sanctuary there. If there was one. Help out anyway
HE can.... They said they wanted some backup there, in case things got bad.
They had given him some papers, called verification papers, and a passport and
two tickets. But not food.
Why two tickets? This world is dangerous. Everyone works in
partners these days... They had told him. He had pointed out that everyone
also had food these days. Glares and dark frowns.
And so, Vlaedr was
looking for a partner.... Damn......
Vlaedr crossed the
bridge and went to the nearest thing he could call a food shop. Well at least
they gave me the names of a few places I could find partners... He thought
depressively. Now I don’t have to wander London.... Looking for food....
A
plan. He needed a plan. He went through the produce aisle and passed the wine
racks. First Eat. Then figure out where you are.... Then Find Partner.
The house in front of
Vlaedr was very much small. The door look like it was cut in half to fit, and
there was one window on the second floor. It was painted yellow originally, but
now the paint had cracks everywhere so it looked, well, bad. The roof was just
a piece of metal that slanted to the left.
Vlaedr stared at the
house, and then walked up the stone path that counted as the walkway. He stopped before the door, and knocked
softly. Then he knocked harder. Then he banged on the door.
A flustered looking
man opened the door, looking at Vlaedr angrily. He opened his mouth to start
shouting, and then he noticed Vlaedr’s hands. His eyes widened. Vlaedr quickly
stepped inside and closed the door, covering the man’s mouth with the other
hand.
Vlaedr spoke quickly,
and quietly. “I am Lord Vlaedr, call me Vlaedr. I am not a Vampire, I hate
Vampires. I am not here to hurt you, I just want to talk.”
He removed his hands
slowly from the man’s mouth.
The man glared at him
and spoke angrily. “I know your kind. Dabbling in the dark Magic’s. Well I
refuse to talk to you. You are a mutation. I hate you already. Let it never be
said that Inferious Crane helped a Dark Mage. Good day to you!”
Vlaedr tried to
speak, deny, shout, anything really, but the man threw up his hands and Vlaedr
flew out the door way.
The
door slammed as Vlaedr stood up. He howled angrily and stalked away.
The cab slowed to a
stop in front of the video store. Vlaedr paid the man and stepped out into the
rain. He growled in annoyance and walked to the door.
The door made that
annoying sound all video shops have at the front entrance when you open them.
Vlaedr growled at the door and shook the rain out of his hair.
A very thin looking
man stood at the counter, pierced everywhere you could see. He had a spiky
Mohawk, dyed black, and a few tattoos on his neck. Vlaedr marched up to the
counter and slammed his claw-fist against the counter. Then he growled for good
measure.
“I am looking for
Obanex Strife. Are you him or are you not?” He growled again.
“I be Obanex... What
do you want, Vampire-Dude?” He said in a slow tone.
“I am not a Vampire!
I hate Vampires!” Vlaedr roared.
“Thats cool, thats
cool. I am going to have to ask you to leave though... Its closing time and you
are scaring the custos, man.”
Vlaedr turned around
in a slow turn scanning the store. No one.
“Look here, frog
legs! I drove three hours to get here! And we are going to have a nice long
chat, you hear me snap-stick?!”
Obanex nodded slowly,
closing his eyes in agreement. Then he took out a large revolver and shot
Vlaedr in the chest.
Vlaedr just glared at
the man.
“No, Beast-Man. I
really have to close now. Have a good day and come back soon!” He said
cheerfully, starting to pack away his things.
Vlaedr stomped out of
the shop, ripping the bell-thingy off the door, and got back in the cab.
“Last stop and then
I’m done! Take me to the damn residence of...”
He stopped and looked
at his list.
“...Marx Skailus...”
I think that is one of my longer chapters.
Well, let me know what you think or dont think about it.
I think that it was very good and that the food thing was funny.
ReplyDeleteI don't think that Vlaedr and his partner are gonna get on very well . . .
I think that making him work with someone is a good idea.
I don't think that there is a Santuary in the Thames. Yes, i know you didn't mean that there was one there, but i you got me confuzzled for a moment.
I think that i have told you what i think and don't think now:)
Thank you. I appreciate every comment.
ReplyDelete:D
(chuckles) "Growled for good measure."
ReplyDeleteI can't stop thinking of food either.