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WELCOME TO THE JAILMOON, CRIMINAL!
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2-5-08; BRINGIN' IT BACK
Like it's hot! So we had a bit of a slow period, but let's not let that get us down. I'm going through and weeding out members that haven't logged in for two weeks, and sending out an ACTIVITY CHECKwarning for current members. We'll be going on a badly needed promotional spree, so anyone adept at banner and button making, feel free to post a few up in Graphics. Otherwise, got friends? Shoot 'em a link and bring them over - come on guys, let's get this shit rolling! Also, I could really use any suggestions or opinions about how to improve the site or attract more members - if you've got any input, PM me (PM: admin) or drop it in the Help Box.
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12-31-07; HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Hey guys, I just wanted to wish everyone a Happy New Year! Have fun tonight, write up your new resolutions, and DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE! ;-) I'll see you all in 2008!
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12-27-07; Calling All Criminals!
Alright guys! Everything is set up, ready, and raring to go. All we need now is... you! Damn, how cheesy is that? But it's true, anyway. I'm starting to advertise this place like crazy, so hopefully we can get at least a few members to kick off. EXCITING! :-)
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12-27-07; GRAND OPENING Oh, well hot damn! I'm happy to say EC is just about ready to open its doors and start luring in a member or two. Here's hoping to a good run... Make it dirty! Make it sexy! Make it fun!
Simple survivalism. « Thread Started on Jan 31, 2008, 9:07pm »
It was curious how this atrocious planet could be so lavishly furnished in some places. Take the Capital District, for one. Otto thought it was incredible how nice it was, criminals certainly didn't deserve even exposure here, but who was she to complain? She was one herself, it wasn't like she was going to put off any opportunities. After all, when life gives you lemons, there's not much you can do with them but make some damn sour lemonade. You see, Otto still wasn't sure what to make of this new life. She had only been dumped into this hellhole a few months ago, and she wasn't exactly thriving. Amazingly she managed to scrape out a place for herself in Ularia, of course only after fulfilling many "favors" for guards and whatnot. But she was the ants-in-the-pants girl, she couldn't just sit around and... wait. She enjoyed exploring the whole moon, most of the time in search of food. She was a hungry one, that Otto. Voracious as a coyote, her motto was 'there's always room for free food.' She had been sitting for a good while on top of the head of an equestrian statue, waiting for something edible to pass by. Otto was surprised nobody suspected a pitch black pigeon crested with bronze feathers watching them intensely, more like a tiger than a dull-witted bird. She cocked her head to the side, goldenrod eyes glistening in the topaz street lights. Every so often she'd ruffle her feathers, then smooth them down again, preen, peck at an invisible moth. Siiigh... fidgeting was never her thing. The pigeon gave a quick glance around, making sure nobody was watching. She didn't want anyone following her, some idiot with stupid questions to ask her. As far as Otto was concerned, everyone on this jailmoon was a moron and just wanted to waste her time. Of course, there was the occasional cute guy that she would have loved to seduce without the pay, but that was nothing special. Besides, they just wasted her time... she was far more interested in someone who knew if there was any way to escape this foul place. She missed the dirty Venice streets dearly, and the only thing she'd benefited from here was picking up the English language. Pounding her wings, she fluttered from her perch, and in midair she transformed into a tortoiseshell cat, quicker than the human eye could register. The kitty Otto padded down the sidewalk, keeping close to the tall buildings, away from any stomping feet. She was headed toward the district center. There just had to be something interesting there. As she paused to quench her feline desire to stop and give herself a tongue bath, her small pointed ears flicked up, tiny satellites. Water trickled somewhere nearby, and she remembered the reason she was in this lofty district. Otto took off in that direction almost immediately, heightening her pace. She came upon a fountain, welcoming and serene. With a sigh of relief, she leaped up to the broad edge with ease. As she leaned down to lap up the cool water, she noticed a flash of orange and her eyes lit up. "Oh! Fish!" the cat cried, but it came out as a yowl of excitement. With a flash she became a panther, as she wasn't even going to try and take down a koi as a little house cat. Flexing her ivory claws, she waited for one of the koi to draw near when she plunged in a massive paw, swiping for her dinner. She missed. Otto had known she was a shapeshifter since she was a child, but she had never really mastered the techniques of certain species. Hissing impatiently, she waited again, shifting her shoulders from side to side. After the fish had calmed down, she tried again. Lucky for her, she managed to hook her claws into one of the chubby koi, lifting it out of the water victoriously. She grinned, watching the fish squirm and gasp as she pinned it to the fountain edge, almost as if she was taunting it. She didn't wait for it to die though: she was far too hungry to play with her food. Ripping into her catch, Otto completely forgot that she was sitting in the middle of a city, eating one of their fish, in the shape of a big cat, which was sure to draw attention. Otto was hungry, and Otto always gets what she wants, so that was all that mattered.
§pīke Security Guard "THE MACHINE MAN" member is offline
[sup]so give me somethin to B E L I E V E, cuz I am living just to BREATHE[/sup]
Joined: Dec 2007 Posts: 4 Karma: 0
Re: Simple survivalism. « Reply #1 on Feb 5, 2008, 6:47pm »
Well. He had just been expecting another day on the job - nothing new, nothing to write home about. Boring, in a manner of speaking. He had recently been restored to his regular patrol, which was a relief. Spike truly hated this city - but Capital was probably the most tolerable of all the districts. Easiest on the eye, and not particularly overrun with the rowdy bunch of cons. It was more relaxing to be a station guard here than Visla or Holy, and probably the one thing he was thankful for. Well. That, and maybe the Black Gavel.
The machine man had been in Ending City from the beginning of his man-made life - a grand 50 years of patrolling these dirty streets, babysitting Second Earth's criminal populace, day in and day out. So, he had seen a great deal of strange things over the years, to say the least. Magical folk, a concept he himself had never been able to grasp or come close to obtaining. He was a first generation cyborg - cold, metal, and mechanical. Even his body - completely human in most respects - was colder than most and ran on black blood. Magic and all that fancy shit was too far beyond his gloved fingertips - and so, one might say he holds a slight grudge.
Not because he longs to teleport or start fires with a snap, but because he simply can't comprehend the logic of it, and that annoys him.
Today, Spike is slacking. After spending the morning patrolling the streets and alleys of Capital, he found himself a little bored after lunch and eventually ended up in the district center, at the fountain. Some might have thought it odd, if they had seen him an hour ago; climbing up onto the fountain wall, hopping from that ledge and onto the center statue; a large bust of three old war generals who had led one of the battles that established The Capital City back on Earth. He was sitting on one of their large heads, knees propped up as he leant back on the supporting head of the second general. It was all quite comfortable, actually - and he, with his grey machine face and cloaked garb, blended right in to the scenery. After a few minutes, it was hard to tell him apart from the actual statue.
So, like this he had been enjoying an hour of light napping - to be disturbed by a yowling cat. Brightly lit blue sockets powered on, his equivalency of waking up, and he glanced down toward the fountain full of fat koi, and the cat sitting at the ledge. Normally, he wouldn't have thought much of it - there were alleycats all over this damn moon, nothing new, nothing special. Except that most of those alleycats didn't change into big black panthers.
"....Huh."
That was strange. It took the security guard a long moment or two of staring at the big cat, stabbing its claws at the panicked fish in the fountain and finally catching one, before he grasped the situation. A shapeshifter. As a guard, he was usually notified of all 'magical types' that entered the city, and he remembered something about this - but it was the first time he'd actually come across it. He didn't move from his lazy perch on the fountain's monument, however. Instead, he peered down as the big cat munched the poor koi, hood pulled up and his eyes glowing.
"I should cite you for that. Stealing and destruction of city property - it's an offense that could get you eligible for a stint in solitary confinement, you know." He shifted only slightly, reaching to scratch lazily at his shoulder while he watched the cat. "Or community service. Cleaning the streets and shit."
Re: Simple survivalism. « Reply #2 on Feb 5, 2008, 8:30pm »
Everyone has flaws, and one of Otto's was that when she became engaged in something, she was often oblivious to anything else. Here was a perfect example of that, too. She had been enjoying herself thoroughly, both proud and satisfied with her little find on that day. She'd become a monster and had completely consumed that fish, bones and all. And then she would go find a comfortable alley and settle down for a nice nap, out of sight from the psychotic residents of Ending City. Ohh, how nice... she fantasized about the wonderful times she could have now she didn't have to scavenge like a famished child, but her attention was snapped like a dry twig when she heard a voice.
Ears flattening to her head, the panther looked up. Shit. That had been a stupid move to stay out in the open like that. But, there's a catch to everything, she had learned, so she kept her cool. With a flicker she was in human form, with her short pleated skirt and loose, rose-colored off-the-shoulder sweater. She had tied her hair up that day, so her sharp features and calm expression were clearly visible. Honey-colored eyes surveyed the speaker perched above her, in perfect view, which made her wince internally: she could have easily seen him, but she had been foolish enough to overlook him. But she kept complete composure and continued to shamelessly study what she had guessed was a guard. Her golden gaze hovered on his strange face for a moment longer, then she licked a piece of white flesh from her lush lip and spoke.
"Yeah?" She smiled ever so slightly, daring to show her amusement. "Doesn't look like you really give a shit to me," she observed in her soft Italian accent, watching the metal-faced man with both caution and curiousity. As far as she had seen, the guards around here were idiots and easy to deal with, especially when you showed a little more leg to 'em. But the glowing blue eyes of this one, and the nonchalant way he sat on that monument, she was a little more wary. "I've never met anyone who cared so much about the wellfare of streets, either." Otto added, her eyes never leaving the guard. She hoped he wasn't the violent type, however daunting that metallic face was. For once, she was actually in a good mood, and she wasn't going to let some guy boss her around and rain all over her happy little fire.
§pīke Security Guard "THE MACHINE MAN" member is offline
[sup]so give me somethin to B E L I E V E, cuz I am living just to BREATHE[/sup]
Joined: Dec 2007 Posts: 4 Karma: 0
Re: Simple survivalism. « Reply #3 on Feb 6, 2008, 6:40am »
ooc: short post, kinda blah.
Violent? No, Spike wouldn't have been one to consider himself the violent type. Sure, he liked to indulge in a few brutal bar fights now and then, but that was almost always off duty and without fail at least a little bit intoxicated. He had his own pent up grudges that needed to be relieved from time to time - but for the most part, compared to some of the power-high guards he knew, he was fairly docile. He didn't have too many enemies on this moon, if that was to say anything.
If he'd had eyebrows, he would have raised them in a thoughtful sort of expression when she changed into human form (and, he assumed, her natural state) - but instead, the soft glowing blue of his sockets merely intensified momentarily. In the end, he just shrugged and glanced briefly at his badge, pinned to the heavy coat he wore, as if to remind himself of his duties. "No," he sighed. "I guess I don't give much of a shit. But if I did, I would put you on janitorial duty, I think. Lucky for you I'm on my break right now."
That was a lie - he was on the clock, wasting his shift away sleeping on the fountain monument. Ah, but no harm - no foul. Those fish were fat and ugly anyhow - he doubted anyone would notice or care if a few went missing. Not as a judge or gov official was going to stop by and check in anytime soon. Those bastards stayed as far away as possible from the jailmoon, probably for fear of their lives.
Spike paused to draw in a slow breath, thin tendrils of steam rising from the jagged metal corners of his carved mouth when he exhaled. "That's a neat trick you got there, changing your shape. You should teach me someday, kitten."
It might've seemed strange, for a security guard to act so lazy and almost friendly, even. His tone was sleepily cheerful and only vaguely metallic, though underlying it was a thick sarcasm.
Re: Simple survivalism. « Reply #4 on Feb 6, 2008, 8:05pm »
ooc: hah, better than mine.
Mm, how interesting, Otto thought. This one was much different than the rest of the guards, much different. She seemed to sense that he wasn't going to bother with hardly moving, so she slacked her posture and leaned back, removing her gaze from the man for a moment to look absently at her skirts and pluck at the hem a little, crossing her legs simultaneously. And then right after that she was watching him again, not in fascination, but simply because it was her instinct not to trust him. As he spoke she smirked, giving a sharp exhale for a short little laugh. In the streets back home, she had become quite accustomed to things like sarcasm and found it entertaining rather than offensive or upsetting.
"Mmm, really? Well, it takes lots of practice," she told him, which was an honest statement, though she didn't say it in a very convincing tone. Playing along, in a way, she mirrored his relaxed way of speaking and sitting, sort of silently saying that she could talk all cool, too. "Honestly, I would think you'd be pretty satisfied with that handsome metal face of yours, yeah?"
It was obvious that the girl was certainly not a shy one, though she knew to keep her distance. She made her interest clear, but nothing more. Another one of her animalistic habits: knowing her limits, but having the balls to test them too, like an adolescent dog. Still, in her mind she wondered why this guy was so chilled and, almost, in a way, amiable. He could have her locked up in minutes if he wanted to, because she had a feeling he wasn't really on his break. With her mind all jumbled up with thoughts of that sort, Otto opened her mouth once again, something she wasn't sure she should have done quite yet. "What's your name, doggy?"
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