Post by Devereaux Rise on Aug 25, 2011 23:45:02 GMT -5
A tall, square-shouldered man with a walked through the outskirts of a city he didn’t even know the name of. Dressed in a pair of fake slacks and a fancy gray suit, he’d been living there for roughly a week, but spent his last night in jail, though he didn’t seem like that kind of man at first glance. So he’d been careless. Oh well, no one would ever see him again anyway. No one would be able to find or charge the man who’d stolen some money before promptly breaking out of prison because he didn’t really exist.
The man neared a run-down looking building, which at one time had been a small bank, but gave into bankruptcy a long time ago. Its windows and doors were barred and blocked with graffiti covered planks of wood, save for one. The man glanced around for a minute, but the area was scarce, free of on lookers. His brown eyes de-saturated to a startling shade of gray and his close cropped hair darkened, growing out into a messy plumage of a teenage punk. Dropping in both build and height, the man shape shifted into his true form: a skinny adolescent, barely beyond his nineteenth birthday.
Devereaux slid between the bars of a blocked window. He entered the old building, lit by patches of moonlight streaming in through the large holes in the roof. Shrugging out of his clothes, the young shape shifter put on his usual clothes and tightened his collar to fit snuggly around his neck. The silver tag winked at him, mimicking the brilliant colour of his eyes. Trick, it read, if found please call… There it got illegible, the metal tarnished and grimy. I wonder what happened to this dog. Devereaux thought absentmindedly as he grabbed his guitar, the one he stole shortly after arriving.
Squeezing between the bars of the window again, this time with his instrument, Devereaux took in a sharp breath. He scuffed the grass beside his makeshift home before collapsing down, his back to the wall. Adjusting his fingers on the guitar, the young shape shifter dug a pick from his pocket and began to strum. The guitar sounded good, welcoming Devereaux back from a long night. Out of habit, he began to play an old Taking Back Sunday song, singing along softly with a cool, smooth voice and perfect pitch.
Ca'guuror walked through the streets of town, smiling and nodding at people he passed with a smooth, easy grace. However the people around him did not return the same smiles. Many stepped around the man, looking fearful or with disgust. They may not have known why, but most human beings where born with a natural distaste for the supernatural. A shapeshifter by birth, Ca'guuror definitely fell beneath that category. Dressed in a black british commando sweat sweater today, a t-shirt clung to his body beneath it. His legs where covered in black cargo, military style pants, and his where encased in his black military boots. Across his back was a sheath, angling from his left shoulder down to his right side of his pelvis, his katana handle sticking over his shoulder. He sighed, having hated the fact he had to sign back up for the military for a small stint. It was everything he had hated, but at the same time it was everything he had known. At least he got to carry his old blade again in the open and legally. He smirked, knowing if he was stopped he had a permit to carry the weapon in public. A military permit, allowing him to even carry it side safe buildings, such as banks.
He stopped on a corner, and leaned against the side of a building, surveying the area. He watched as a tall man walked towards an old run down building two blocks over. The man looked around, then suddenly was gone. Cag blinked for a second to try and clear his eyes. There was a young looking male where the taller chap had been. Was it just his eyes? Maybe, but Ca'guuror doubted it. He had been trained to be observant. Almost to observant. He watched the young boy slipped into the building and grinned. He non-chalantly stepped away from the building he was leaning upon and strode across the road, heading for the building the boy had vanished into.
He reached the spot and leaned towards the bars upon the window and sniffed. His olfactory nerves told him instantly what was going on. Another shifter. That was what the boy was. Smiling, he stepped back and listened. Whoever it was, he was coming back out. Stepping around the corner of the building, Cag pressed his back against it, seeming to partially melt into a deeply shadowed recess there behind some trash cans. He listened intently to the boy as he came out of the building and took a sharp breath. A soft thump, and the an instrument began to sound it's tunes. Cag slipped from the shadows and stepped beside the boy, squatting down beside him.
Fishing a hand into his back pocket, his fingers closed upon a thin, cloth like piece of paper and he pulled out the green rectangular object. He dropped the five dollar bill upon the ground at the young man's feet, leaning close and whispering in his ear.
"Nice trick lad. Pretty decent shape shifting there. Good for getting away from the authorities and other humans who might be hunting you. But be warned, there are more then humans out there. And they will not be so easily tricked and warned." Ca'guuror extended his hands before him. His left was clothed in a fingerless black leather glove to improve his grip, and his right was bare.
His bare right hand morphed slowly, growing fur and long dagger like claws, not unlike a cat's. Dark tan fur rippled from the flesh, lasting long enough for the boy to see before it all vanished away. The now human hand reached up and pushed dirty blonde shoulder length hair from his face, revealing strange eyes. Sold gold, with no iris or cornea visible. Just gold upon gold, seeming to shimmer with life.
Post by Devereaux Rise on Aug 29, 2011 0:37:37 GMT -5
He didn’t notice anything until a crinkled five dollar bill landed somewhere by his foot. Before he had time to react, the man who’d dropped it there knelt down beside him.
Then the boy nearly dropped his guitar.
Devereaux snapped his head up, his face distorted through a clinging shock as the man spoke in his ear. Trick? The young shape shifter flinched. For a heartbeat, he realized that this man must have seen him, but then was more surprised at what followed. As if to answer the boy’s unspoken question, the man showed Devereaux his arm. It grew into something not unlike a paw with long, sharp claws before dissipating into a human hand.
I thought it was just me… Devereaux flicked his eyes from the hand to the man’s eyes, only to find himself thoroughly startled by almost alien optics. No pupils, just this strange gold, yet still there was a warmth to them, grounding them as somewhat human. Barely human. Devereaux looked away, studying the grit on the dusty floor and drew in a sharp breath. Never had he even once stopped to wonder if there were anymore creatures like him. He’d always just assumed that he was different and left it off as that. Now, new questions began to surface, flooding his mind. Bewildered, he simply leaned back against the wall and slipped two fingers under the collar around his neck, tugging at it as if it would make everything easier to understand. “Thanks for the money and the advice, but what the hell are you? What the hell does that make me? Your hand just friggin’ turned into some kind of paw thing!” Devereaux hissed at the man as his silver-gray eyes narrowed with cloudy confusion. “Though I’ll admit, that was damn cool.” Inside, he cursed himself for not being creative enough to think of shape shifting like that, as he’d always built himself human disguises. Something crossed the boy’s mind. Maybe I can learn something from this guy. He obviously knows more about this than I do.
Cag grinned and sat down upon the ground, removing his katana from his back and laying it across his lap to make it not so awkward as it was longer then he was sitting down. He smiled watching several people walk past, running a finger absentmindedly along the black leather sheath of his sword. He was use to questions. Who he was. What he was doing. They where usually the same all around. He sighed and answered the boy's question.
"I am the same as you. I can change my appearance as I wish. Well, I use to. I choose to go against the goods, so I only have a margin of my talent left now. Now I am just like you. Able to shift my body form into something of similar size and shape. Does that answer your question?"
He smiled and leaned back. He reached into his pocket and fingered the scroll there. Its power was memorized, and all it needed to be done was cast. But Cag had waited, unsure of what to cast it upon. Perhaps he should just do it upon his katana. But he also wanted to do it to his sai. It was a hard decision. One he had been contemplating for weeks now. He looked over at the boy seated beside him.
"You should be careful. You keep doing stunts like what you did earlier and somebody will notice. Even some humans know about us. When they do, they have a nasty tendency to attempt to eradicate us. And they are getting better at it everyday." He smiled and looked back out at the street, watching a loud car rattle past and frowning at it's passage.
Post by Devereaux Rise on Aug 31, 2011 1:11:00 GMT -5
Devereaux followed the man's eyes, watching as a rickety car pushed by. "Hm. 'Guess so. And I suppose you'd know all about those 'nasty humans.' I've had my fair share of them, but I dunno. Life in secret is just so boring... " The boy moaned, brushing the dirt and grit off his guitar.
"Maybe I came looking for trouble." He added nonchalantly with a smirk. "It's not like I have anything worth living for anyway." The young shape shifter absently bounced a small pebble in his hand. Questions still spun out of Dev's mind, but he held his tongue, not wanting to irritate the other shifter. Shifter being the term Devereaux usually thought of himself, not knowing if there was a real name for it or not. "It's weird, b'cause I used to watch cartoons on T.V. about people with superpowers 'n stuff. The irony." He scoffed, flicking his gaze at the man to see his reaction.
A burning sensation shot down his arm and up his back and neck, sprouting from the barcode-like tatto on his shoulder blade. Devereaux looked away and squeezed his eyes shut. Dammit. I really need to get rid of that mark. He thought. The Mark seemed to leak pain randomly, interfering with shape shifting and causing sore muscles. "Sorry, must have, you know, pulled a muscle back there; anyway..." The boy apologized quickly, rubbing his shoulder in an attempt to hide his blunder. Deciding to drop the subject, he swept his gaze around.
Curiosity sparked in the back of his mind as the man beside him caressed as long thin blade hidden inside a black sheath. Though, instead of asking about the sword, he thrust a dusty hand out towards the man. "Devereaux Rise, sometimes Henry, and occasionally Hideki, but only on Tuesdays." He joked as this other man already knew about changing form. Introductions were always so lifeless and common, might as well spice it up, right? Glancing back, Devereaux asked "And you are...?"
Cag watched the boy intently. His golden eyes never wavered from the young shifter. He listened to his words, and shook his head even as the boy stood and stepped away. Cag stood slowly and slipped his katana back onto his back and grinned.
"Then don't live a life in secret. Make something of yourself and your abilities. I did. Well, my story is a bit different, but you still have the same ability to do something. We have the ability to be anybody we want. Anybody at all as long as you have the knowledge."
Grinning as the boy introduced himself, Cag grasped the hand, shaking in a strong, firm handshake. "Ca'guuror DelaSangre, and that is the only person I am." Smirking he let go of the boy's hand and stepped back. His gaze flicked over the young man's shoulder and his smirk vanished.
"From the looks of it, your life of secrecy might be up anyway. What did you do?" Cag reached back, grasping the handle of the katana as a S.W.A.T van pulled in front of them, spilling out about seven men armed to the teeth with assault rifles, shotguns, and pistols, and several bulletproof shields. All of them wore bulletproof body armor and helmets.
Post by Devereaux Rise on Sept 1, 2011 22:18:05 GMT -5
Devereaux gripped Ca’guuror’s hand and shook. Shortly after exchanging introductions, the man standing opposite him reached over his shoulder for his sword. For a moment, Dev was confused, that was until he glanced over his shoulder and noticed a bunch of armed men surging out of S.W.A.T. van.
“I didn’t do anything! Not as me… How could they find me?” The young shape shifter replied as he whirled around, placing his guitar on the ground and kicking it out of the way. It slid to the wall of Devereaux’s temporary home with a soft click. What did I do?! He thought franticly, reaching for the small knife in his pocket.
Men yelled and bared their bullet proof shields. People and passerby recoiled from the scene, scampering away down alleys and into buildings. Most people here had learned to avoid the police or anything of the sort. Dev also retreated a few steps on instinct. He wasn’t used to confronting authorities, or at least not with his own face.
The mark on his shoulder was beginning to act up again, he could feel its familiar pain snaking down his arm and creeping up his neck like ivy. From a glance, he could see his new acquaintance, Cag, starting drawing out a deliciously sharp katana, the one Devereuax had noticed earlier, readying himself. Shaking his throbbing arm, Dev choked back his pain and gripped the handle of his knife. The armor smothered S.W.A.T. team marched closer, shouting and aiming weapons…
As Ca'guuror drew his katana, he held it before him and slipped his right hand into his other pocket. He held on to the Scroll of Evisceration, glaring at the S.W.A.T. team. His lips parted as he called out to the them, but the words of the scroll stayed int his mind as he prepared himself to chant them.
"What are you all doing here! I am a member of the United States military, authorized to carry this weapon where ever I go. Now declare your purpose here, before things get out of hand!" He stared at the squad leader, glaring into the man's eyes with his own, his hard gaze seeming to not even notice the weapons in their hands as he stepped forward, directly into their line of fire between Dev. He was with in reaching distance of their weapons now, katana unsheathed in his gloved left hand, his right hand hidden in his pocket secretly gripping the power scroll. He would have to use it if a came down to a fight. With their body armor and weapons and numbers, seven against one was not looking good. -----------------------------------------------------------------
The captain of the squad felt queasy as the other military man stared into his eyes. He had not expected anybody else to be here. They where mission had been straight forward. Pick up the young shape shifter, and deliver him to the prearranged people. He had heard stories of the man before him. Trained, by the government, to kill and fight other supernaturals. The gold upon gold eyes where legend in the circles, secretly whispered about how he could become anything and anyone. Then the man had disappeared, only to reappear a few weeks ago and join back up.
The young captain swallowed and tried to pull his gaze away from the eyes of the sword wielding man. He looked at his men. With bulletproof armor, several shields, and all their firepower he knew he could take down both of of these beings if need be. But he wondered how many of his men it would cost...
He looked back at the black clad figure before him, straightening his stance and speaking in a loud clear voice. He wondered what his hand was doing in the pocket, if it was perhaps holding another weapon, a pistol or something else rather sinister.
"We are on order to acquire, retrieve, and transport one Devereaux Rise to a predesignated destination you are not allowed to know about. A significant amount of money had been paid to reacquire this being, and we are under orders to use any force that is deemed necessary to accomplish this goal." He grunted, and stepped closer to the man.
"Collateral damage has been acceptable as well. So I iwill ask you sir to please stand down...." ---------------------------------------------------------------
Cag groaned. The man was going to be difficult. He slowly slid his hand from his pocket, the rolled up scroll clenched in his hand. He adjusted his stance, ever so slightly as the man stepped towards him and he readied himself. This was going to be extremely ugly. Perhaps even fatal. So be it....if that was what it took to protect one of his own brethren shape shifters.
"Captain, this shape shifter may have committed some crimes, but he has promised to repay his debt to society and serve his time..." Cag began to lie, but caught the twitch of a finger and brought his right hand up, slamming it in to the bottom barrel of the assault rifle, sending the barrel sailing upwards over his left shoulder as several bullets flashed from the end of the muzzle. He grunted in pain from the loud bangs, and watched as his scroll sailed into the air.
His legs thrusting against the ground, Cag roared the words written upon the scroll, thinking of the katana in his hand. The scroll flashed a brilliant red, and began to crumble into a dust that seemed to flow to his blade. The dust settled upon the weapon, causing it to glow with a soft red light as the wielder somersaulted over the back of the captain. His now freed right hand grasped the back of the man's vest and drug him off his feet into the air, hurling him at the van. The captain's body collided with the metal with a resounded crunch, before sliding down revealing the dent left there as the sword bearer landed upon his feet. He looked at the S.W.A.T team around him as it seemed in slow motion they all turned towards him, bringing their weapons to bare.
Post by Devereaux Rise on Sept 3, 2011 12:37:13 GMT -5
Blocking out the pain conquering the upper left half of his body, Devereaux tried hard to focus on the task at hand, though he still felt ridiculous. He had nothing but a pocket knife and though other shape shifter had a sword, the S.W.A.T. team had guns and armor. Swallowing his shock as Cag claimed to be part of the military and could only watch as the man stepped forward into the line of fire. Maybe things would have been better if I just stayed in jail… The boy thought, his attention span was almost non-existent.
When he heard his own name being spat out by the captain, Devereaux flinched, bringing him out of his thoughts only to fall into a new set. So they had found him. But how? And who had paid them? Memories from his buried past resurfaced inevitably, despite the young shifters attempts to shake them off. Like waking up after a nightmare, he could hardly focus as scenes replayed over and over in his mind. Those small, confined places, perfectly arranged to pack everything into a cluttered-
And then something weird happened. The boy tore himself out of his past as something from the present snared his attention.
Cag was yelling.
Loud.
Then a flash of red as Devereaux stared stupidly as the more experienced shifter threw the man against the S.W.A.T. van. In a normal circumstance, Dev would have turned, ran, shape shifted, and hid somewhere densely populated, like New York. But here and now, a fellow creature was defending him and risking getting injured. Feeling rather useless as Cag plunged into a heated battle with the gunmen, the boy gripped his knife and moved in. Attempting to prove himself, Devereaux decided that, while Ca’guuror held their attention, maybe he was lucky he could slip around the back, strike out, and be productive.
Bad idea. Almost as soon as he’d moved, a stray bullet ricocheted off something, maybe Cag’s sword, and caught Dev’s hand, forcing him to drop his knife and pull back. Clutching his now bleeding hand and hissing curses in French (something he’d learned from his father), the young shifter had no choice but to hide behind Cag.
Ca'guuror lashed out with his right foot, slamming his foot against the nearest S.W.A.T member's shield. The bulletproof plastic held, but spider cracks flashed across the surface, spreading out form the point his foot hand connected with and sending the man flying a decent twenty or so feet backwards across the street. Fingers tightened upon triggers as Cag dropped below their lines of fire.
Bullets ripped through the space the man had vacated only seconds before, shrieking over the male. Rolling along the ground, Cag moved slide under the next man bearing a shield, his free right hand snapping out his free right hand towards the man's ankle. His fingers grasped it as his feet slipped under him, ready to rise. Talons ripped through the man's Achilles tendon, sending him to the ground screaming in agony. His left foot snapped out, smashing into the man's knee as well, crippling him possibly even for life.
As the man fell, Cag ripped the shield from the man's hands, spinning and holding it before it as bullets slammed into it. He hunched, behind the shield, letting them spend their magazines. When the first click sounded, Cag stood and hurled the shield with brutal force like a javelin, not even hesitating at the sickening crunch it produced when it struck the man's throat. A spinning kick knocked the weapon from the hands of the next soldier, and his right fist connected with the left side of the man's temple, crumpling him to the ground. The S.W.A.T team retreated back towards their van, with the last shield bearing bringing up the rear.
Cag raised his new enhanced blade, slashing it from the man's right shoulder to his left as the man thrust a pistol out. Gleaming red, the blade cleaved through the shield like butter, hacking it cleanly in half and flaying the man's chest open to the spine. Blood sprayed everywhere as the body collapsed. Tires squealed as van roared away, and Cag sighed, shaking his head. He wiped the blade of the katana upon the fallen man's trousers, slipping it back into his. Looking down, he sighed as he noticed a trickle of blood, rolling down his leg from a bullet that had torn through his calf. He knelt and felt the wound, gritting his teeth as he felt metal grind against bone. Whatever, it would have to be dealt with later.
Standing up, Cag strode to the Devereaux, grasping his upper arm and leading him quickly into a back ally, away from the scene. "Come, we need to remove ourselves from this area quickly before more show up."
Post by Devereaux Rise on Sept 5, 2011 1:46:51 GMT -5
Promptly after being slightly wounded, Dev could only watch as Cag took down the S.W.A.T. team. Like a mad rushing blur of red steel and bullets, the experienced shape shifter eliminated the men, one by one, so smoothly as if it was a rehearsed movie scene. Devereaux couldn’t help but feel a little tinge of jealousy and the crushing gravity of how weak he really was.
But that jealousy dissipated when the boy saw his new acquaintance cleave a man nearly in half, as if from some bloody horror film. Then he reminded himself that this wasn’t a movie and that people were dying. For a heartbeat, Devereaux sympathized with the humans, who were really only fighting back at something they didn’t understand. Of course, Cag was fighting to protect someone he didn’t even know, yet that doesn’t justify killing. Does it? I wonder who these people were. How old were they? Did they have families waiting for them?
As the van wheeled away, Cag turned and dragged Dev off, clearing the scene. He acknowledged the man’s words with a nod, but barely was ale to place one foot before the other. The throbbing pain emanating from his shoulder subdued itself and the bullet wound in the boy’s other hand was only minor, a small price to pay. Dev glanced at the bloody hand gripping his arm, no doubt covered in the blood of another man. From there, his eyes traveled downward as he noticed Ca’guuror’s uneven steps. The man had been shot in the leg. Devereaux still had a lot to say and questions to ask, but then thought it better to just remain silent.
Eventually, the other shape shifter must have either thought that they’d gone far enough or had gotten tired of tugging a disconnected teenage boy around. Dev just stared blankly ahead. When Cag let go of him, the boy collapsed onto the ground into a somewhat sitting position, tired, though he’d done nothing in the recent battle. He sighed, watching as his hand stopped bleeding. Finally Devereaux spoke in a tired, spiritless voice “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you caught up in my problems.” Clawing his unruly hair away from his eyes, Dev recalled himself. Whatever had happened today, the boy knew he’d be seeing more of it. Fingering the collar around his neck, the spark returned to his eyes. “I guess you’ll be wanting your money back.” He smirked half heartedly as he dug out a familiar crumpled green bill from his pocket, not really knowing how to apologize.
Cag was indeed walking with a drastic limp of which he was putting every effort into hiding. With each step upon the injured leg, the muscles bunched and clenched around the bullet still embedded in the flesh and and causing it to grind against the bone. When he thought they where far enough away for a bit, he stopped walking and collapsed against the floor. He growled as he looked at his leg, knowing the bullet had to come out. He glanced over at Devereaux and motioned with his hand.
"Keep the money. But may I borrow your pocket knife there? The bullet is still lodged in this wound and needs to be removed." He looked at the male, his golden eyes slightly dimmed from their earlier shimmering from the excruciating pain he was in but other wise covering up. He hoped the boy would in deed lend him the knife, because performing this operation with a katana or a claw would be an extremely mess and dangerous business, but he would do it if he had to.
Post by Devereaux Rise on Sept 6, 2011 19:27:09 GMT -5
Dev glanced at the injury on Cag's leg, grimacing inwardly. "Sure," he shrugged, digging the knife out of his pocket. "It's a little dull but...." The boy leaned forward and handed the older shape shifter the pocket knife before flopping back.
Then, he fished a small strip of tatted red cloth from his other pocket. Wrapping it around his wounded hand, Devereaux was sure to keep his eyes off Cag. Seeing the bloody bullet wound once was enough, as it made Dev's stomach twist, not from the blood, but from guilt. With a sigh, the young shifter undid the buckle on his dog collar and toyed with it while chewing the inside of his lip, as he always did when something bothered him.
"So what happens now?" Devereaux asked when the man finished operating on his injury.
Ca'guuror took the pocket knife from the kid and gritted his teeth hard. He took a deep breath then shoved the dull blade into the wound, drawing the semi-sharp blade against the outer edge of the try tear, widening the hole. He set the bloodied blade aside then took a deep breath, holding it then plunging two of his fingers into the wound. He pushed hard, looping the tips of his fingers around the embedded chunk of metal and then retracting them quickly and retrieving the object. He stared at it, shaking his head slowly.
Years of training, a month of infiltrating, and his cover was probably blown now. He had joined the military again to try to track down one following the name of Atrax. His title was general. But there are sophisticated rules here. Sighing, he dropped the chunk of metal upon the ground. He slipped of his web belt he hand on and wrapped it around his leg, tightly to act as a tourniquet to staunch the blood flow. He looked up at the boy and grinned.
"Well, that was most interesting. What did they want you so badly for? Larson, theft? Simply robbing one bank wouldn't send an entire S.W.A.T. team before to arrested you."
Last Edit: Sept 7, 2011 1:14:29 GMT -5 by caguuror
Post by Devereaux Rise on Sept 7, 2011 19:26:03 GMT -5
Devereaux twisted the strip of leather in his hands. “Yep, sure was interesting.” He replied, delaying as he thought over the various crimes he’d committed. The boy was sure he’d done all of them with different names, unique faces, and fake identities; he made sure that none of them would link with another.
“I’ve robbed lots of banks, stolen practically everything I own, and various other things. I think someone might have gotten hurt here and there, but nothing serious or S.W.A.T. worthy. I’ve never killed anyone… not on purpose at least. I just don’t understand how they could link Devereaux Rise to all my crimes.” The young shifter shook his head. “Maybe I’ll just have to stop being me for a while. Do you think that’ll help?” He looked over at Cag for a moment, wondering how the man could grin like that after being shot in the leg. If it hadn’t been for the mysterious man sitting a short distance away from him, then Dev certainly wound have been locked up in the back of that van. The boy shifted his position and scratched his ear. “Well. Whatever it was, thanks for saving me, though it probably messed up your reputation as military personnel.”
