Masquerade
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Post by Masquerade on Jun 11, 2006 11:48:03 GMT 12
[Isn't Mask a total ass? Man, someone needs to show up and add some conflict to this >_> Otherwise they're just gonna keep picking at uncomfortable things, methinks]
"Havoc dear, you're the last person I'd consider 'unsnapped'." Mask replied calmly, "But this has gone on long enough. Perhaps we should forage while we're out here? I don't particularly feel like sewer rat for supper tonight."
He wanted to keep prying, get some sort of decent reaction out of Havoc, but he didn't quite feel up to getting the Wharf Rats second-in-command feeling particularly wrathful towards him. At least, not at that moment in time.
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Mina Crow
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Post by Mina Crow on Jun 13, 2006 13:47:41 GMT 12
Will simply smiled at Mask's words, with a curt nod of his head. 'Unsnapped', uh?
"Yeah. If I'm not turning vegan, I'm not certainly up to sewer-ratarianism either. Before this", he pointed with his chin to indicate the city, "everyone told me gull meat was terrible. Told me it tasted awful. And here we are, longing for a scrap of stingy gull meat..." A mischievous smile dawned on Will's face as he shot the other Rat a side glance. "No pun intended with our precious little slant-eyed friend, 'course. As if I'd do something like that..." he trailed off, the smile glowing with pretense innocence.
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Masquerade
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Post by Masquerade on Jun 14, 2006 6:49:46 GMT 12
One of Mask's eyes, the right, twitched subtly, his smile being far less than pleasant.
"Pigeon is far better, and easier to catch if you have some twine and know where to set it. Gulls are larger, but their meat is oily and far less palatable." he said flately, "But both birds need to be cooked thoroughly, what with all the vermin infesting the feathers and gut."
Safely back in his pockets, his hands clenched and unclenched methodically, tightening so much he'd have faint bruises where the ring still clutched in one hand had been pressed into the flesh of his palm.
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Mina Crow
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Post by Mina Crow on Jun 14, 2006 7:29:32 GMT 12
Will returned the smile with a discomforting leer of his own, flashing too many teeth. "Of course. Pigeon and vermin. As you will it, my friend." His hands were twitching. Fishing into his pockets, Will took his small metal puzzle out, throwing it up into the air and catching it with the other hand without looking. The pieces clinked softly as Will rattled the puzzle before putting it away again. That gesture had become a tick, on those last days. Which reminded him... Prying was always something rather interesting to do. "Figure that ring of yours has something to do with bluish lips, right?"
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Masquerade
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Post by Masquerade on Jun 14, 2006 14:09:51 GMT 12
For what seemed like an eternity was was silent, a million miles away in a time long past; remembering good times and bad, friendly and unfriendly faces alike.
"Blue lips, broken promises, leaving the 'proper path'... Many things." Mask replied finally, his tone unusually subdued. "But that in itself is a long story, which will have to wait for a better time, Havoc dear."
[[Me=inspired=crappost]]
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Mina Crow
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Post by Mina Crow on Jun 16, 2006 9:04:25 GMT 12
"Oh. Pity that", muttered Will, more to himself than to Mask. "'The proper path'... If I'm the last one you'd consider 'unsnapped'", Will's lips twisted on a smirk, "I must tell you I'd not see you as the first to follow the proper path, as you call it." They were almost visible, the cogs turning inside his head. "Well, another time it is, then. But I'll hold you to that promise, eh?" He winked at Mask, jerking his head to keep the hair out of his face. "A promise's a promise, Mask dear" Will said with a grim look. Then, lightening up, he swung his arms up, stretching them above his head. "Ahh... Damn sewers are too tight. Never got that feeling?"
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Masquerade
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Post by Masquerade on Jun 16, 2006 15:29:06 GMT 12
Mask shook his head slowly, a quiet laugh nearly inaudible.
"I never said it was I who left the path, darling. I spend more of my time on the fringes of the woods, luring off those who've become disenchanted with the yellow brick road." he mused.
"And Havoc, dearest, I'm taller than you. Of course I find the tunnels cramped." he added, more as an afterthought than anything else. "I'm not one for creeping through filth, even if its in my best interest. Which is why I'm more often up here." he gestured to the area around them with an outwards sweep of his arm.
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Mina Crow
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Post by Mina Crow on Jun 16, 2006 19:37:20 GMT 12
"No, seriously?" Will let his arms fall, then eyed Mask up and down, as if amazed with a realization he had never had. "Weird; never noticed you're taller than me. Why'd that be?" The left corner of his mouth rose on a sneering grin. "So you're the Big Bad Wolf of Little Red Riding Hood, or Oz's Cowardly Lion, or the Tin Man? Or perhaps the Wicked Witch of the West?" He sighed, looking strangely subdued. "Yeah. We're not in Kansas anymore."
[*Hits muse with sledgehammer*]
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Masquerade
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Post by Masquerade on Jun 20, 2006 12:08:05 GMT 12
"No, we're in New Pork."
He said it frankly, his eyes suddenly clear of any inner fire or malice. Wide and open, he seemed almost... hurt, by Havocs comment. "I wasn't -am not- anything as terrible as you wish to make me sound. Just a lonely soul in the woods looking for a playmate. But I can assure you, I will be most displeased if you chuck a bucket of water on me to see if I melt. Second in command or no, I'd be forced to retaliate."
That was Mask, foolishly -or perhaps not- unafraid of the two reigning forces that governed the lives of the Wharf Rats. Oh, it wasn't that he had no respect for them; he simply enjoyec walking the line between smartaleck comments and traitorous remarks. Push to see how hard they push back. Test the waters. Et cetera, et cetera.
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Mina Crow
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Post by Mina Crow on Jun 20, 2006 12:51:49 GMT 12
If Mask mastered that dodgy walk on the verge, so did Will. And he enjoyed doing so; ever storing and digging for information, he was a diplomatic ambassador whenever need called for it - especially due to Berserker's temper. Jade had been so, always the calmness before the raging storm. Her plots and schemes had extended all over the town, and Will now controlled what remained of them - that job being hardly their current Mistress talent. Pull a string here, drum on another there - and the whole net responds, tingling softly at your touch.
Will shrugged nonchalantly, a cold grin spreading over his face. "My dear, I'd never do that. So... rash and crude, wouldn't that be?" His hands rose, mimicking the playing of a flute. "Every mouse, every child, listen to my joyous song..." he chanted, purportedly off-tone. "New Pork, Hamelin, what's the difference?"
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Masquerade
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Post by Masquerade on Jun 25, 2006 14:49:33 GMT 12
"You'd look rediculous, all decked out in harlequin fabric and prancing along with a train of rats following behind you." he smiled, "Especially if you find a plumed hat, one with a big dyed ostrich feather to match your outfit."
"Spiders running over a carefully laid web, only the spinners truely knowing which threads are safe to tread upon, and which will trap an unfortunate stepper as surely as any prey. So tell me, Havoc dear: which threads are safe?" he asked cooly, "And how many of us are caught in the web?"
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Mina Crow
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Post by Mina Crow on Jun 25, 2006 16:53:22 GMT 12
"Aw, come on. The Pied Piper's got to be a better thing than the Wicked Witch of the West", Will said with a twisted smirk, stopping the mime and thrusting his hands into his pockets. He was silent for a very long moment after Mask speaking, as if dwelling on the question. When he finally spoke, Will's voice was toned down, almost mellow. Too calm. "Mask, my dear - what kind of magician reveals his tricks to the public? What kind of warrior reveals his weakness? What kind of-" he broke off, sighing. "You get it. No, darling," his smile grew cold, "the spinners do not reveal their ways. You must pick your own treads and hope they will not entangle you... but eventually you'll fail. The spiders feast upon those wretched victims. Yummy."
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Masquerade
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Post by Masquerade on Jun 26, 2006 13:23:55 GMT 12
"Spinners become drunk on power, oft without realizing as much, and eventually the web becomes so large they begin to forget where the trip-lines lie." Mask said softly, "Eventually the victor becomes the victim, and the prey feasts on the predator caught in his own trap. Mother spiders guard their young, but should she hunger, they'll fill her gut as surely as any fly."
He tipped his head to the back, angling it until the bones in his neck cracked and the tension that had been building up began to receed.
"But the spiderlings continue to spin and crawl over their mother and her web, oblivious to the danger until their numbers begin to thin. Of course, should the spiderlings go hungry, whats to stop them overwhelming their matriarch and making a meal of their guardian and master?"
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Mina Crow
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Post by Mina Crow on Jun 26, 2006 17:17:21 GMT 12
Will didn't lose any time to pick Mask's speech. "Spinners are known for their memory, darling. The song of the webs takes long to fade from the spider's mind, and she is always playing it, softly, so the others cannot hear it. The spinner does, though - and so she doesn't forget the subtle music of her puppets." He paused for a moment, growing pensive and strangely serious. His mouth was set on a grimace, and his eyebrows came together on a deep frown. "But yes. You have your reason - the mother ends up being consumed by her children; she might appear weak and fragilized, but in fact she's willingly giving herself to her offspring. she brought them to life, and from her they will always feed. Thus she becomes part of the little spiders - and lives on, forevermore."
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Masquerade
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Post by Masquerade on Jun 30, 2006 8:53:15 GMT 12
"And the spiderlings take up the mothers spinning, the largest and most vicious ruling the web, secretly under the subtle influence of the slyest of her siblings, the force that commands the smaller and less aggressive of her mothers brood, while in reality it is her brother who does the true ruling." Mask replied, quite enjoying their current metaphor.
"But, should any wander too far from the nest, there is always a waiting predator to pick them off. Perhaps even one of their smaller, apparently meeker, siblings."
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Mina Crow
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Post by Mina Crow on Jun 30, 2006 21:32:31 GMT 12
[Soon I'm going to lose myself, going at this rhythm... xD I'm loving this.]
Will nodded slowly. "None of their siblings is too meek - those meek enough have already been picked off by none other than their very mother and her court of spiderlings; only the strongest survive to tell the tale, often with carnage in their souls. And size never meant a thing, not for the young spiders - grouping together, they overcome any type of enemy. They just need guidance, a puppetmaster's soft touch tingling on their legs, spinning as he wills. Have you ever seen a spider dance?" His grin widened.
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Masquerade
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Post by Masquerade on Jul 1, 2006 11:29:21 GMT 12
"Only when they're walking across a very hot surface." Mask hummed, "But how experianced is this puppetmaster, tugging on so many threads at once?" he grinned madly, arms sweeping out to his sides, the rest of his body curiously slack, as though pulled by invisible stings. "Even a master puppeteer errs on occasion, and the result..." One hand swung around sharply, one finger, in a crude representation of a knife, drawing across the front of the Hunters throat.
"Death for the puppets, death for the play, misery for the master."
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Mina Crow
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Post by Mina Crow on Jul 2, 2006 10:53:22 GMT 12
"The puppetmaster had the best of teachers, dear", Will said, the smile on his lips balancing the sadness on his eyes. "The puppets have nothing to fear, for their guide knows by heart which strings to pull and which to leave untouched." He rubbed his crooked nose on an idly gesture. "Yes... Misery for the master. However, his creations are his shield - they know whatever afflicts their master will affect them tenfold. And if there is love shared among the master and his puppet company, the play will run smoothly every time. To the very last show", he added softly.
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Masquerade
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Post by Masquerade on Jul 16, 2006 9:25:53 GMT 12
"And what of the last show, Havoc? Just how close are we to the final curtain call?" Masks tone was once again serious, his smile still at large however.
"What of the puppets that cut their ties to the puppetmaster? Are they left to crumple, or set aside to burn for kindling?" he continued, "Spiders and webs, fishers and nets, puppets and strings." Mask purred. "Where does it end, dear? When we're dead and cold, or when we learn to read the puppetmaster?"
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Mina Crow
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Post by Mina Crow on Jul 17, 2006 2:29:26 GMT 12
"The last show... Guess we'll have none of that until city's taken over by the army. Or Vampires or Cats wipe us out - and we're here to make their task a bit difficult, eh?" Will grinned and rubbed his nose. "We make quite a miserable show. Underpaid, underfed puppets, who won't even make for a decent meal. Stringy, woodlike meat. But... Well, the strings can be burnt, charred. So can the puppets - and does wood float, or does it drown? There's no end to it, not one we are able to see. Where a fishernet ends, the other begins, and the young goldfish are trapped one way or another."
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