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The War is Coming, are you ready to make a name for yourself...? A Roleplay site Based off of a Fanfiction Story.
 
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 Drugs, Whores, and Ice-Cream

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Azmot
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Character name : Azmot

Clan : Dai-Ruct

Disease : Not Diseased
Usable Gates : Ichiban
Niban
Sanban
Yonban

Angels/Demons Killed : 0 Angels / 4 Demons

Male Posts : 239
Ryo : 32355
Fist Bump : 3

Character sheet
Ken:
61/61  (61/61)
Ippō:
61/61  (61/61)
Sourupowa:
10790/10790  (10790/10790)

PostSubject: Drugs, Whores, and Ice-Cream   Wed Jan 25, 2012 12:02 am

(OOC: This is a series of epic posts that may or may not follow a story. One kind invloves A KH Azmot, found here, and the others will involve AH Azmot. Now, let's begin.)


A hooded man walked across the dark, moonlit streets of the now vacant Twilight Town. During the day, people flushed the streets with joy and curiosity, yet in the dark, things were on the other side of the proverbial coin; Shady characters would move in and out of the alleyways while they eyed you, who was a simple passerby. They're greedy, hungry, but most of all pathetic eyes were not only filled with a miserable sorrow, but a gluttonous thirst. You see, about 3 or so months earlier, this kind of activity was rare. No one roamed the midnight streets prowling for an object of obsession, nor did random acts of violence occur, usually leading to a murderer cleaning out the wallet of an innocent man.

This changed, though; this city was no longer a safe town for those who enjoyed midnight walks. This town was something heard in legends, fairy tales told to toddlers to keep them in check. This town was now apart of the modern day world; this town was a living nightmare. At night, this town was it's own hell, it's own separate entity. Azmot, as of others, could easily hear of the darkness this place held, the screaming fear it put into each and every one of it's citizens hearts. This place made the grown quiver and the young cry.

The young demon now heralded across this town, still hidden by his cloak, as he had 2 months ago when he arrived. Two to Three times a week, this man could be seen walking into the alley's, looking for these fabled men, who some claimed had become monsters. Every night that he journeyed, however, nothing was found. It was like they could smell the conviction on his breath, like they could tell he was here to reap what these men sowed. That was, however, until tonight.

A gust of late-night wind blew the cloak off of the figure's head, un-masking his face to reveal a young looking man, perhaps an older teenager. As of now, Azmot's age had reached 16, so his... finer qualities were expanded while puberty had started to come to a slow. His face was a bit more masculine than before, and his once squeamish-looking arms now seemed more defined.

He was of a good strength now, and his skin looked moderately healthy as well. His eyes swayed the same mocha brown as they had years ago, his hair was still a bit off center, but it didn't give him a boyish charm as he once had. He now had a "Manly Charm", as he put it, which used to make Mark, Alex, and Sophie laugh. He really missed the Three of them, but he realized that it was to painful to reminisce about old times. The Chamber.... It was to much to bear even thinking about it.

Lost in his thought, Azmot foolishly did not notice the man in the alleyway next to the road he was walking on start to slither towards him, not giving him enough time to take in all of his facial details. As soon as Azmot did notice him, the man ducked his head beneath a hood of his own.

Shit, Azmot thought, mentally reprimanding himself. Now he couldn't identify who was a part of this whole crisis. Still, he had to play his part one way or another.

"So man... You play ping pong?" The man asked in obvious code. Well, it was obvious to anyone who had intercepted a message between this particular group of people.

No, I actually prefer a nice game of Tennis. Azmot spoke in very articulate code, matching it word for word as he had practiced. After a long pause between the two men, the other one suddenly spoke, his voice a bit different than before. All of the desperation was now emulated between his words instead of his eyes, just waiting to see if he had hit the jackpot.

"Ok... Follow me." The hooded man kept low as they maneuvered an uncountable number of pathways between buildings and through strange doors. Finally, they arrived at a poorly-hidden cellar door near the whole that lead to the forest.

With shaky hands, the man opened the door with a large creaking sound escaping into the air. As the two started to walk down into the darkness of the deep underground, Azmot realized that he was about to delve into one of the most dangerous world he had yet, the belly of a beast that rivaled the Devil himself. Azmot was about to enter the world of drugs and drug associates.

The pure Darkness of the well lit tunnel was aggravating. It was at-least 20 feet long, which prompted the two to make small talk. However, due to the un-comfortableness between the two, neither took the opportunity to speak. Steps passed in the dark silence, the tension between the two growing with each step. As they closed in on the door, the hooded man started to stumble on a jagged rock that was obstructed from the floor, and as he fell something slid out of his pocket.

A dark, purple vial which glowed in the darkness was the object that ejected from his cloak's pocket, and it started to plummet towards the ground. With a quick motion, Azmot grabbed the vial and put it into his coat pocket, looking at the man reassuringly when he looked at Azmot.

He seemed to not know anything about the catch after his slight stumble, so they moved towards the door without a problem. A burly man of about 6 foot and 5 inches answered, recognizing the hooded man and allowing them to both enter. The scene was a bit incredible, actually, and Azmot was surprised at how elegant the place looked compared to the rocky tunnel he had just associated this crowd with. Marble, cleanly washed floor was made by what seemed to be experts.

It was pearl white, the intricate grooves crafted with such a way that the floor seemed to make it wave, to move in a very subtle fashion. Over to the right of the mildly populated area, a row of dark vials were neatly aligned, very similar to the one he had grabbed earlier.

Though quizical, Azmot was aware that it was not wise to go and investigate before he was aware how this product was used. As if on cue, a well dressed man slid a large amount of munney across the table were the vials were, the man who seemed to be selling this product giving him a quart of a vial. Apparently, this dark liquid was extremely expensive, and that man who "lost" his full vial was going to be enraged.

As soon as the man got it, he eagerly opened it and held the open side up to his neck. The liquid seemed to seep into his skin, and the suited man's eyes turned yellow. He took a big smile that didn't seem to fit the suited man, and he soon after moved towards a chair that had a television directly in-front of it.

With no other real option other than to ask the man what he was selling, which was an ignorant and very stupid question. It was obvious to Azmot what all of the recent crimes were linked to, what it was all related to, what the connection between the crimes and the desperate men. It was all about drugs. Pulling out a the full vial, Azmot popped it open and held it to his neck. With a fluid motion, he popped it back and took a full hit.

The first thing he saw was black spots in his eyes. The next thing he saw was nothing. The last thing he saw was a hazy version of reality, distorted in every little way one could imagine. He was lost now, having to wait for someone to talk him down or for the effects to were off. The bottle smashed against he ground as he moved towards a chair, grabbing some Cheet-Ohs and looked in delight as he began an episode of "Dora the Explora".

(OOC: The beginning of extreme epicness)
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