Hello, everyone! after dealing with real life and the other nonsense of living, panny and i have decided to bring back war of change. give a round of applause. we’ve worked through all of the information and hopefully improved coherency and cohesion; however, tell us if we missed something. eventually, we’ll announce an event to celebrate the re-opening, so look out for information on that. -RAIDNE, THE HEAD ADMIN
From the moonless night, screams of terror and fear resound, spreading across the world and infecting the masses; however, those sleepless nights occurred years ago. A new era began with the fires of war, and with no end in sight, the residents of Selene Isle trudge through life, basking in the momentary peace. Despite their prayers for continued monotony and peace, a storm brews, stirred to life by the continued presence of Rapture and Wraith. And as we set our sights on the seemingly peace laden isle, we must ask: how shall this tale end?
As the years passed, the number of true pairs increased; however, they continued to live in the shadows, catering to the whims of the mundane. Seven Moons kept watch over them all, instructing them and assisting them, but for many, the attitudes and ideals of the organization were smoldering, suffocating. With Seven Moons and the mundanes, they could not grasp the freedom, the power dangling before their eyes. In the beginning, rebellion was a dream, a fantasy, a figment—developed by the repressed and carried forward due to the nature of humanity. No one expected the call to sound, and no one expected the call to be answered. However, it happened.
The smell of vanilla and fresh baked pastries along with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and tea filled the air. It was a tantalizing aroma, sure enough to make mouths water and eyes widen at the refreshments served by the cafe. The gentle lull of several conversations and airy laughter stirred the air with voices, happy tones in comparison to the dark Victorian theme. Oddly, however, it worked rather well. This combination was quite pleasant and open, inviting all to come in despite the Gothic undertones. Perhaps this was why, Cafe Mystique, without a doubt, it was the best and popular cafes on Selene Isle.
If he were a creature of habit, he would have came here frequently. The one eyed man would have came here so often that the waiters and waitresses would know him by name and exactly what he would order. If he were a creature of habit, he would have sat in the same spot as well, in the back of the room and far from the window. Rixon, however, was not a creature of habit because that led to many accidents and in his trade, accidents usually meant finding yourself six feet under. Some might say he was being paranoid, overanxious and such, but the ginger would have said different. He was cautious, that was all. Didn't they know? Better safe than sorry.
But he knew who these people were that often caused accidents here on the Isle. He knew of Rapture, or Wraith, of Synister, and of the Seven Moons. He knew their names and their habits, their rumors and whispers that members uttered. Some were far fetched and others not so much. Yet with each sentence whispered, with each tall tale spoken, there was a grain of truth behind it. It was only a matter of separating the false and exaggeration before you discovered the truth hidden underneath like the proverbial needle in a hay stack or pearl within a clam. The ginger knew much of what came and went within the factions, not so much because he wanted to pick the winning side, more so because he needed to keep balance among the four of them. A self appointed task that took much of his time and left him with little time for silly treats such as tea in a cafe.
To be honest, the ginger was rather confused as to why he was here. It wasn't like him to want to interact with someone. Rixon preferred his solitary lifestyle and independence, coveting it like a precious gem. Hence why, a sacrifice for him... Your other half, or so called other half, of a unit was a double edged sword wasn't it? To either strengthen in fights or weaken with emotions. The subject was a rather precarious thing and Rixon did not want to be seen or even associated with the term weakness. He was merciless for a reason. Regardless, the man he was seeing today was just as so. Dangerous even without his other half. Rixon knew who he was seeing today for this odd bout of social interaction. He knew who this greenette was and what he did. He knew by name, by face, by voice now, who Dmitri Krasotkin was. Perhaps not fully, of course not, but if all the little grain of truths he found buried underneath all the rumors and hushed mutters, then this man was lethal. Not that he doubted it. Oh no, Rixon knew. He knew very much what this person was like just by the brief first encounter. A predator. The greenette was an apex predator, the top of the food chain where the rest cowered and feared. Respect was not earned when you were at the top. Respect was demanded and all should follow accordingly.
He was a predator too, but a cautious one. A meeting like this was essentially a date with the devil himself was it not? Of course, whether the devil referred to one Synister leader or to one ginger maverick was up for grabs. It wasn't to say they were going to outright kill one another. Rixon knew better than to do that. Balance wouldn't be kept that way and so far Dimitri was doing fine holding the reins. Not to mention, the mercenary found the greenette rather... interesting. For now, they could play civil and hopefully keep it that way. Civil he could do, but social? Social was not his forte and small talk was a waste of breath. The spoon in hand stirred the amber colored liquid in the pristine white teacup, the hot liquid ate away at the honey until it completely dissolved. His guest for tea should be here soon, no? He wouldn't mind if the other changed his mind, but Rixon doubt the other would. There was a small clink! clink! as he tapped the spoon at the edge of the teacup and set it aside on the saucer. He raised the cup to his lips, but stopped when someone stepped in front of him, chair pulling back at the table he was sitting at. Rixon simply raised his gaze from the teacup he had in hand to look at the man that had joined him. "Good afternoon." He murmured softly, his voice almost lost in the noise around him. Nonetheless, he took a sip of tea.
TAGS: @zeit00 NOTES: rixon and mityaaaaaa and wowww this post rambled.
HERE'S TO YOU, GLORIFY, MY DARLING, ARE YOU SATISFIED?
from his vantage point, the residents of selene isle bustled through the streets in a manner reminiscent of ants, and the correlation served to amuse the pastel haired male, garnering a fanged grin and short bout of crazed laughter. by society’s standards, life moved at a constant, each day spilling into the next. the idea of time escaped people, so they served their own interests whenever conscious. for the depraved murderer, the stability of humanity provided ample opportunities for disruptions and for chaos. he managed to restrain his desires with midnight escapades and killing sprees, but synister’s grand entrance approached, creeping upon the unsuspecting public with each ticking of the clock. insane cackling rendered the silence of his chosen perch obsolete as one arm moved to wrap around his waist, adding additional support due to the quivering of his body which correlated with the intensity of his laughter. time would be the deciding factor.
upon managing to regain control of himself, dimitri pivoted on his heel, turning away from the bustling ants and striding across the roof of elatha’s dwelling. people existed peacefully within the housing district of selene isle. violence awarded instant incarceration, which granted people the luxury of peace; however, individuals affiliated with the various gangs of the isle maintained their guard and apprehension. deaths occurred frequently on the edge of the lunar cycle district, an invisible barrier separating the peaceful residential area from the untamed populace of the other districts. to be honest, the greenette expected the illusion to shatter—break into a million pieces and shock the populace with the brutality of reality. he, however, would not be spearheading that campaign, preferring to keep a watchful eye on the building storm. unease settled over the isle like a thick blanket, a silent warning to those attuned to the situation between the various affiliations.
combat boot clad feet ceased their forward momentum as jade green colored eyes observed the fire escape, which granted the residents of the apartment complex access to the roof. with a careless shrug of his shoulders, he began his descent, propelling himself down with skilled ease. during the night, he often scaled buildings and decimated his prey by sneaking around, and with the added benefit of sunlight, the creaking fire escape proved to be the least of his worries. no, as he descended, his thoughts drifted to the intriguing red haired civilian, whose ruthless tendencies delighted the synister leader. however, upon reaching the final landing, his thoughts regarding the stranger dissipated as he clamored onto the railing, vaulting himself off and landing in a crouched position on the ground. people stared at him in confusion and revulsion, awe and lust, respect and terror; however, he ignored their glances and pushed himself into an upright position.
one pale hand rose to sweep his bangs away from his eyes while his other hand unearthed his cell phone, jewel toned eyes studying the glowing digits in disinterest. flashes of his newfound obsession flashed through his mind once more, rekindling his awareness of reality and the truth behind the displayed time. ah… a pity, dimitri breathed while shoving his phone into the pocket of his jeans, hands disappearing into the pockets of his trench coat. whispers followed him as he began walking toward the crescent moon district, excitement building as the distance between himself and café mystique dwindled. he never expected to run into a fiery haired maverick, and when he collided with the civilian, he latched onto the young man, deeming him an appropriate companion. no, the green haired sociopath could not boast of knowing the stranger, having only briefly interacted with the man; however, he recognized the signs of a seasoned killer within the youth.
gleeful chuckles erupted from the male as he turned onto the main street of the crescent moon district. the amusement faded from his features, replaced by an apathetic countenance. his pace slowed, and he watched in obvious interest as people rushed past him, heedlessly passing him and continuing with their lives. emerald green tinted eyes darkened as his destination appeared before him, victorian architecture greeting him and beckoning him forward. pale lips curved into a smug grin as his gaze connected with the familiar vibrant hair of his chosen companion. his speed reduced further, resembling a meandering gait as he traversed the final few feet between himself and the café. a bell chimed in merriment as he pulled open the door and stepped over the threshold. voices immediately assaulted his ears, but he ignored the gentle murmuring and made a beeline for rixon.
as he drew closer to the younger man’s table, the clinking of a spoon against the tea cup reached his ears, resembling the mesmerizing beats of the music that filtered through blasphemy. one pale hand reached out to grasp the remaining chair, pulling the object back and plopping himself upon it. olive green hued eyes studied his companion as grass green eyes shifted away from the tea cup and rose to connect with his own. yes, good afternoon, rixon. with an elbow pressed against the circular table, dimitri leaned his cheek against his fist, gaze dropping to rest on the cup in the red head’s hand. enjoying your beverage? amusement tainted the simple inquiry as the greenette prepared himself for a decidedly one-sided conversation with the other male. he would certainly enjoy himself regardless of rixon's lacking social graces.
Rixon was never the one to want eyes on him. Even when he was little, he tried to hide away from the prying eyes of others. At first it was behind his mother's legs, then it became behind the many other students, and now it was simply hiding behind the shadows and faces of the crowd. He preferred to keep out of sight and out of mind until the very last possible second. It bothered him when eyes were trained on him for no reason. The passing civilian who had wandering eyes, the child that stared because of his eyepatch, or even the possibility of another hit man. It bothered him more that his hair stuck out, but it would not be right to change himself to fit what was needed. A tiger can not change its stripes and no fox would willingly change the color of its pelt. But a leader was meant to be seen, to be heard, and simply to be felt. A leader was meant to be omnipresent, not a ghost in the wind as he would like to be.
He held a position of a leader, once upon a time, but it only lasted for a little while. A year or two before he called it quits. A solitary life, Rixon had figured, was what suited him the best. He had no time, nor any want, to micromanage incapable imbeciles. While he had a few shining stars in his group, lack fo social etiquette made it more than just awkward. While he had that presence, so did the the leader of Synister. That feel of eyes watching you in the dark, that shiver down your spine with each decision you make, or even the sudden feeling of dread when you find yourself alone at night. That was the other's presence and while he did not cower or run away with his tail tucked between his legs, Rixon felt his skin prickle the moment the other appeared.
There were people better than him, Rixon would hate to admit, but it was true. So long as he acknowledged that part, then hopefully he wouldn't become too arrogant as to what he could and could not do. The fighter knew his boundaries in keeping balance and he dared not test them. While he was fine to pushing his body past its limits, to test and break past that fine line, there was always something that held him back. The maverick's fascination for balance, this unique and perfect blend of order and chaos, kept him chained from doing so. He simply could not kill as he pleased as the man who joined him. No. That would be wrong despite the pleasure he might derive from gutting and killing such weak members of their species. A shame in the mind of many.
Rixon gave a shrug. Tea was tea and no matter how one looked at it, drinking something would simply suffice. Whether it was water, coffee, wine, or juice, it mattered not. It was simply on the menu and the mercenary was partial to, but he supposed that if he had to say yes, then the tea did meet his expectations. Of course, what was there to expect from the acclaimed best cafe on Selene Isle? There was a sigh that escaped past his lips, shoulders slouching slightly as he lowered the cup from his lips and set it down upon the saucer. "Earl Grey tea." He had asked the waitress to set aside the tea set so that he could pour more for himself and seeing as the other had joined him today, then the pastel haired sociopath could help himself to a cup as well. Rixon motioned for the other to take the empty tea cup, but at that moment a waitress appeared.
The aura he emitted took a dramatic one-eighty turn. From cold and distant, it turned syrupy sweet. Of the artificial kind, there was no natural sweetness in anything he did that . "Hello, Miss." He greeted with a smile of all things, but it only came as natural as it was now through practice and such fawned care. "Is there anything I can get for the both of you?" How sweet and thoughtful to come over. "I'm fine, thank you, but my friend might want to order." Rixon gestured to the pastel haired sociopath in front of him. The girl smiled and turned her attention towards the other. It was rather amusing, to think that such a girl could be charmed by such words and sweet smiles. She might have been better off feeding wolves with her hand outstretched, but it wasn't as though silly lambs and people such as her knew any better. He mused over this for a minute before snapping back into reality. Whether or not the other had ordered or dismissed the girl, Rixon wasn't quite sure, but as soon as she turned her back, the smile disappeared from the ginger's face. The harden and calculated gaze of a killer returned and he leaned back in the chair he sat in. "I gather you are well?" Hopefully, Mitya would appreciate the effort he was putting into this conversation.
TAGS: @zeit00 NOTES: Look at my baby trying to be social, better appreciate that effort there ;c
HERE'S TO YOU, GLORIFY, MY DARLING, ARE YOU SATISFIED?
dimitri resembled a chameleon due to his inability to sustain one mask. he altered his expressions and speech patterns to correlate with his needs or his desires. the pastel haired sociopath thrived upon the unease and apprehension of the populace, so he shifted their perception of him, fading in and out of focus as required. his life revolved around the shadows of society. he stalked the fringes and carefully decimated the outcasts and the abandoned. attention remained riveted upon septimal moons, rapture, and wraith, for synister slumbered, hidden away and slowly gathering the equipment necessary for their entrance. sin wanted a spectacular event—one meant to stun and to frighten. synister hovered on the edge of reemergence; however, in their final hours of obscurity, he planned to accomplish a number of beneficial tasks—befriending politicians, gathering potential allies, and gaining the allegiance of several arms dealers and information brokers. time ticked forward as their grip upon selene isle strengthened.
the greenette could barely contain his excitement, and with rixon’s appearance in the limelight, he found the amusement needed to divert his attention from the brewing storm. destruction awaited selene isle, heralded by the synister leader and fanned into existence by the other affiliations. he could barely stop himself from erupting into maniacal laughter. the days of peace were numbered, and with each passing day, the chaos gained strength. it would be an explosive event… one that dimitri hoped would outshine the actions and the reactions of the rebel groups and of septimal moon.
pale lips curved into a vindictive grin as his free hand reached toward the empty tea cup. slender fingers hooked around the handle of the object, lifting it into the air and bringing it to eye level. an unexpected desire to destroy flashed through his mind; however, he suppressed the urge, setting the cup down with a soft chink and turning his attention to the tea pot. the brand of tea reminded him of business meetings and peaceful evenings. distaste colored his sharp features while his attention shifted to the approaching waitress, whose presence produced an unexpected reaction from the red head. one pale eyebrow rose as the waitress’s gaze shifted to his prone figure, and after several prolonged seconds of contemplation, he waved her away, dismissing her without a word. grace characterized his movements as he picked up the tea pot, pouring the warm liquid into the empty tea cup and staring at the beverage in blatant curiosity.
he had never sampled the tea and delighted in the opportunity to partake in tasting a famous brand. his fingers wrapped around the warm cup, returning the object to his mouth and carefully sipping at the liquid. a hum escaped him as the beverage swept over his taste buds; however, despite the unique flavor, he remained impartial to the drink, setting the cup down on the saucer and connecting his gaze with rixon’s. his head tipped to the side, bangs sliding against his forehead to obscure one eye from sight. perfectly fine, dimitri replied with amusement contained within his drawled response. his free hand rested on the arm of his chair, fingers idly tapping a rhythm reminiscent of the pounding rain. and you appear quite well. have you managed to slaughter anymore synister members? pale lips shifted into a crazed grin as he leaned forward slightly, diminishing the limited distance between them and allowing a portion of his insanity to escape and to spread across his features. i would hate to sentence them to death for missing a meeting, so i would appreciate your cooperation in the matter.
strands of green hair fluttered as he shifted back, swaying slightly due to the movement. it’s so tiring to hunt after deceased individuals. they turn into ghosts. jade green hued eyes lit up in mischief as he ceased drumming his fingers against the metallic arm, fingers stationary and unmoving. his expression melted away to leave an apathetic mask. of course, i’m only assuming… so pardon me. with those words, dimitri reached for his cup, fingers wrapping tightly around the mug and lifting it away from the table. the warmth seeped through his jeans as he rested the object on his lap, internally debating the merits of consuming the liquid. he might… after all… decided that he delighted in the tea and proceed to request several boxes of the substance. a thoughtful hum escaped him as he stared down at the beverage. perhaps he would request the completion of the mundane task regardless.
