originally posted in:The New Dojo
[u]Contact[/u]
[i]The full moon was high in the sky, not a single cloud in sight. It was late april; the night was cool and breezy. All was silent except for the sound of the soft breeze and the chirping of the nocturnal wildlife.
Then, soft footsteps were barely audible over the cricket's song. Feet crunching on the rock of the mountain. The sounds came from a male figure, climbing up a mountain pathway towards the massive complex known as the dojo.
He was approximately five foot eleven. He was dressed in too-small rags, torn and dirty. His light brown skin was drenched in sweat. The rest of his features were indistinct; the shadows outweighed the moonlight.
He staggered towards the doors of the dojo, his parched lips slightly parted. He stopped a foot away from the door, took a deep breath, and knocked quietly.[/i][spoiler]Open. Character introduction.[/spoiler]
English
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[b]Glazkovic stood on the walls of the dojo. His rifle aimed at the strange figure, but he lowered it as he saw the man showed no threat. Glazkovic got down and opened the gate.[/b] "Welcome to the dojo, who may you be?"
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[i]The man had not needed a name for four years; before that, his street name was "Black Dog". His parents had never actually given him a name. So, the man looked at Glazkovic, and stated a made-up one.[/i] "Valentine," [i]He said resolutely.[/i] "A newcomer seeking entry. You?"
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[spoiler]Is that you?[/spoiler] [spoiler]*prays*[/spoiler]
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[spoiler]No, it's not me[/spoiler]
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[spoiler]b0ss pls[/spoiler]
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[i]Outside of the gates, there appeared to be few people, most having conglomerated inside of the Dojo itself. It sounded as if an entire city existed in there, working, moving, carrying on. However, a lone figure stood against the pillar supporting one of the gates, a soldier, simply wearing combat fatigues and his bandoliers. He had a rifle on his back, the weapon a British L1A1, a pistol on his left hip, a P08 Luger, a machete on his right, and a knife in a sheath on his bandolier. He bore camouflage face paint, a jungle scheme, his pants bearing a jungle scheme as well. However, his shirt bore a rather interesting brown pea-pod design, something that looked older than the pants. He had the sleeves rolled up, his arms dirty, as if he had been in combat recently. What stood out, however, was the patch on his collar and the pin on his hat. Two Armenian runes, lightning bolts, white on a black background. The pin on his hat a silver skull and crossbones. The hair that stuck out from beneath it was a greying blonde, slicked back almost formally. He was a large man, muscular like a soldier, his eyes piercing, his face sharp and angular, showing his age and all that he had seen. He seemed not to have noticed the approaching man.[/i]
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[i]The man eyed the other man with wariness; he got that vibe from him, that any wrong move would end up with a bullet in his head. A feeling he was accustomed to. As the man drew closer, more details could be seen; he had sharp cheekbones, dark brown pupils, and a round jawline. His rags appeared to have once been a black t-shirt and blue jeans, however the shirt's color was faded and the fabric was torn and full of gaps, revealing the man's famished and scarred frame. His jeans were torn as well, their color also faded. Where the tears in the jeans were, bloodstains were clearly visibly around. When the man was only five yards away from the soldier, he stopped, and finally spoke.[/i] "Ehm, hello, sir?"
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[i]The soldier had been attempting to light his cigarette when the other man had spoken to him. Raising an eyebrow, hi looked over at the ragged newcomer, finally lighting the cigarette, taking a huff.[/i] "Hm?" [i]He grunted, clearly looking to be a bit annoyed.[/i]
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[i]The last thing the man wanted to do was annoy a guy with two guns, a machete, and a knife. So instead, he moved to lean against another pillar not too far from the soldier. He raised his head to look at the sky, watching the cigarette's smoke rise.[/i] "Any spares?" [i]He asked, continuing his stargaze.[/i]
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"Yes." [i]He said, without looking up, or offering the man a cigarette. His accent was very clearly German.[/i]
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"Nice," [i]He said, taking a hint, and improvising.[/i] "I saw the village down there in complete ruins. Might be difficult to buy more, if that's how you get your cigarettes." [i]The man noticed the accent, but had never heard a German accent before. He was curious, but thought it best to not inquire just yet.[/i]
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"I am no stranger to digging through zhe ruins for supplies." [i]He said rather coldly, taking another drag on the cigarette.[/i]
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"Hmm." [i]Afterwards, the man was silent for a few moments; the past is touchy subject for him, and he always assumed that it was for everybody else, as well. Instead, he waited on the soldier to do something; drive him away, do nothing, or whatever.[/i]
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[i]It appeared that the soldier was not a guard to the Dojo itself, but had rather come out for a peaceful moment away from the chaos that was inside. He did not draw a weapon, or even so much as move for some time. After he finished the cigarette, however, he tossed it to the ground, and stamped it out. Looking over and still seeing the man there, the soldier addressed him.[/i] "Is zhere a reason you are still here?" [i]He asked.[/i]
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"Waiting for somebody to open that door," [i]He replied, gesturing towards the dojo gates. While it was true, he had another ulterior motive; to get to know as many people who were related the Dojo, as fast as possible, to minimize the possibility of himself getting beat up for no reason.[/i] "And you?"
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"Contracts." [i]He said cooly, arms crossed as he stood, looking up the sky for a moment.[/i]
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"Care to elaborate?" [i]Valentine asked, although he knew the answer before he even spoke. His eyes had not moved from the sky yet.[/i]
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"Nein." [i]He said, disinterestedly. He did not trust this strange arrival, something was off about the Oriental man, something in his gaze, his clothing...[/i]
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[i]Something definitely[/i] was [i]off with him. A refusal to answer? The man thought:[/i] He's keeping secrets. [i]Suddenly, his sanity spiraled into nowhere; distrust was a very serious emotion for him. The first signs were laughter; the man started giggling, then laughing, then roaring hysterically. His eyes went blank as all he saw were hallucinations, and voices in his ears. He had a screw loose somewhere....[/i]
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[i]The German looked over at him for a moment, more annoyed than anything. The temptation to draw his Luger and out the man out of his misery was strong.[/i]
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[i]The man's laughter cut off abruptly. When he finally turned his face to look at the German, his grin was unnaturally wide; his eyelids were greatly separated, too, his pupils like dots.[/i] "Soo," [i]He said quietly; his voice was shaky, unstable.[/i] "Think that door's ever gonna open?"
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"Eventually." [i]He said coldly.[/i] "For you, I doubt it." [i]He stifled a chuckle.[/i]
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"Huh... too bad," [i]The man muttered, and staggered off towards the woods.[/i] "Another night of sleeping on sticks and stones, I guess...."[spoiler]Ennnd[/spoiler]
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Edited by Trashcan Jesus: 4/22/2017 3:52:26 AM
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Edited by Cazberry Pie: 4/22/2017 3:54:34 AM[b] [/b]