[P.A.L.E Initiation - Alex Alfons ] Behind the Smiling Mask.

[Ashla]

Closed to Pestarzt.

"I'm waiting..."

Tapping her foot, steaming in anger, the leader of the group P.A.L.E. waited impatiently... she had been waiting for an hour...

A new member had wished to join. So what did Ashla Icebreaker do? Hand her newborn child to her butler Daisuke and high tail on over to the Citadel!

....So what was taking him so long?

Ashla tapped her foot. Her arms were crossed, fingers prodding her gloves. She sighed. She was standing alone in the crowded Citadel. People came and passed while she waited.

Waited...


... Waiting...







Nope. He still wasn't here.

Ashla was only about to leave when a lone monk approached her, "You were scheduled to meet with Harold Hark?"

The annoyed Icebreaker nodded.

"I'm sorry to bring this information to you so late, but he is unable to come today. Just heard of this....Dreadfully sorry."

Like a little girl, Ashla clenched her fists and stomped her foot. She let out a growl of stress, "Grr! I've been waiting for like, hours!"

The monk remained emotionless. "Apologies for the late news." And he simply turned away and left.

Ashla scoffed, "Apology accepted..." She commented sarcastically. She just finally turned to leave, when...

[Pestarzt]

“And he's down!”

The announcer's voice echoed from the enchanted looking glass on the wall and reverberated throughout the brick hall. A ghastly crowd had gathered around to watch the spectacle; their faces a golden hue from the reflection of the simple torchlight. As he began his count, groans and screams of jubilant cries erupted from every lip. Some held their tickets aloft, swinging them in the air with glee. Others threw them to the ground in a frustrated ticker-tape parade of broken dreams. As the crowd began to disperse, a lone, lanky man in a ragged black suit stood in utter disbelief.

“Six arms and he can't block a single punch,” he whispered to every and no one. “Jack told me to pick a winner, and I always pick 'em.” His sailor friend wouldn't be too pleased to hear that Alex lost nearly a hundred gold that wasn't his. As he turned himself to leave The Citadel in disgrace, a boy in a red coat slammed into him in a mad dash. Just then, a cry rang out from further down the hall.

“My purse!” A shrill and wizened voice cried. “Stop him!”

Alex took off after the thief before he knew it, his gangly arms grasping at the wisps of crimson in front of him. With a sudden twist, the boy came round with a knife in one hand and the purse in the other, swinging both with a wild vigor. The Pestarzt had mere moments to react, and used them poorly. The purse smashed into his chest, and he wondered when carrying stones came back into vogue. As he clutched his breast, the knife glanced off his cheek, causing a trickle of blood to run down his face. Wanting an end to the annoyance, Alex grabbed the thief by his collar and dragged him in close, carelessly forgetting about the knife. In one fell and sicken crunch, he smashed his forehead right into the boys face, causing the pickpocket to fall writhing on the ground, and himself to start seeing stars.

“Stay down dude,” Alex said behind his cupped hands, nursing a bummer of a headache. Between his fingers, he saw the thief make a move for the knife he'd let slip. With a sigh and a savage kick to the skull, he finally got the attacker to relent in a twitching pile on the floor.

“It's one of those days...”

[Ashla]

I hope the bunny is okay. Tell me if it isn't.


Ashla watched with interest.

A young man, around his twenties, had taken down a purse thief. The mask on his face has the Icebreaker curious. She decided to walk on over, Maybe this trip wasn't a waste after all...

Her boots made trodding echoes across the stone floor, her cloak and long shawl dragging behind. The half-elf observed the scene closer. As the young person who lost her purse ran up and retrieved it, Ashla simply looked over the crook. He was a simple boy, grubby brown and white clothes, dirt on the face. Ashla frowned, seeing that maybe he was both a criminal and a victim. If this boy was so poor, and no one was helping him, she could perfectly see why he had gone down this path. It was P.A.L.E.'s job to make sure things like this didn't happen.

Talking of which, Ashla was impressed with how the masked man stopped him. She smiled down on the young man, ready to make an offer to this do-gooder.

"Nice job stopping him." The Icebreaker opened, "You even got hands on in the process. You used more than weapons..." She was now referring to the head whaming. She then got to her main point, "Ever heard of PALE?"

[Pestarzt]

Alex still reeled a bit from the blow. His ears run with a high pitched alarm, his his head ached with a dull pulse. Opening his eyes seemed more a burden than a necessity, and he would have been perfectly content to pause in blissful unawareness had he not suddenly come to the attention of a young woman. Straining to see her, he couldn't tell if her wardrobe was as drab as his own or if it was the dim lighting in the Citadel's halls. The only speck of color he could see were her blue eyes and bright red ribbons scattered on her torso. A crowd had begun to gather near the two, watching as a constable finished apprehending the pickpocket and returning his misbegotten goods to their rightful owner.

“Pale? It means listless skin, right?” Confusion plagued Alex's voice as the bright balls of light that blinked in his eyes. He strained to make her out more clearly, removing his mask to better grasp the situation.

As the constable finished his work, he murmured a few words to Alex before patting him on the back and escorting the new prisoner away. Blood trickled down the boys face; the shackles that bound his hands did not appear needed, as he swayed with every step, and wasn't so much led as carried away to some unknown, cruel fate. The Pestarzt rubbed his face to try to get some blood racing back to his brain. The morning's blur seemed a distant dream compared to the very painful present.

“I'm sorry, I'm Al-” He paused, unsure on how to continue. As a boy in Ettermire, whenever he was caught beating on a bully or two-bit crook, he'd always try to mask his real name. Being a hero bore much responsibility, and it usually came in the form of medical bills and damage costs.

“I'm The Pestarzt,” He droned, extending his hand slowly. “Wait, who are you?”

[Ashla]

Delirious people, including herself when it happened, caused Ashla to chuckle.

The queen of P.A.L.E. offered this "Pestarzt" a hand up. "Nice to meet you, I'm Ashla. Ashla Icebreaker."

She noted the wack in the young man's head once he had lowered his mask Maybe he will stop using it while ramming people in the future? Hopefully... She couldn't bare watching someone bleed, with her free hand she salvaged her pockets for a handkerchief.

"I don't mean pale as in the skin color," Ashla started, "I mean PALE as in the group. You've heard of us at least once I'm sure. We combat people like that crook you caught. We keep justice and peace."

Ashla felt a small grin cover her face when she felt what she was looking for. She scored it. She pulled a light blue handkerchief out from a pocket in her belt and handed it to Pestarzt, "You probably need this?"

[Pestarzt]

A warm gush of blood trickled down Alex's forehead and into his eye, obscuring Ashla behind a crimson curtain. There was an oddity in such forwardness, at least to a man who had spent his life in a culture mired with deceit and double-speak. Perhaps Radasanth was as different a place as he'd heard in the tall tales his shipmates spun. Of course, the only girls they ever talked about came with an hourly rate and a risk of a slit throat in your sleep; traits the older sailors mused marked maturity in a woman. As Ashla tried to hand him a scrap of blue cloth from her pocket, he groggily waved a dismissive hand.

“Uh, thanks. But I think it will heal on its own.” He ran a finger near his hairline, pushing away clumped hair still sticky with blood, before wiping his hands on his suit jacket. “It usually does.”

The commotion that had gathered around them had suddenly ceased, or at least Alex was too oblivious to notice it until then. A warm, stuffy air suddenly made itself known, as if he'd stepped outside on a summer's day; its humidity turning the man's suit into less an outfit and more a kiln. The occasional clatter off in the distance, the low drone of the looking glass, and a few hurried footsteps were they only things to break an increasingly awkward silence.

“So, PALE, huh?” Alex scratched at his head, forgetting his wound until the sharp bite of pain reminded him of his idiocy. “I can't say I've heard a lot of things, or remember most of what I've heard, but I think something like that would stick more with you, you know?” His eyelids felt unnaturally heavy, like that strange feeling of lying in bed with one foot in dream before the last light of consciousness fades. Perhaps he'd hit his head harder than he'd thought.

“I'm new to town, but I like taking the fights to the baddies wherever they skulk. Did you, uh, need extra manpower?”

[Ashla]

Ashla sighed, "We need all the manpower we can get..."

While lack of members did get Ashla down, her main concern however was Alex's condition. He clearly wasn't doing well. Lowered eyes, pale skin, blood... He needed some help.

The young woman crossed her arms, "And hey, I don't care what you say. You need help!" They were in the Citadel, the monks were always there for their guests. Ashla tossed her handkerchief down and pointed behind them with her thumb, "I'm going to go get some monks for you."

Rarely anyone had been gathered around anymore. Maybe Alex was similar to her. There was a crowd present, and he simply didn't want to look weak. Ashla was dealing with that very same weaknesses, if he even had it. Now that the crowd was gone, he would be more comfortable.

"It's okay to ask for help." Ashla spoke warmly.

[Pestarzt]

Tell me if the bunnying is okay. I just wanted to move things forward a bit.

”This chick's weird,” thought Alex as he tried his best to hide discomfort behind the walls of his indifference. There was a sincerity to her that the man was not use to. The people of Ettermire had always been like the buildings surrounding them; bleak, towering, and uncaring towards the young human. But the short, elven girl in front of him had a true warmth behind her icy eyes. And that was, perhaps, more terrifying than any monolith or ziggurat seen in Alerar. After moments of creeping silence cut only by the awkward darting of his head, the Pestarzt finally spoke.

“Listen, I'm fine, really. Right as rain.” He was thankful the crowd had dispersed, lest they see the disquiet that he exuded as rapidly as his breath. “But, uh, this P.A.L.E. thing. It sounds cool. How would one, uh, go about joining that?”

The girl responded with a sigh that bordered on exaggeration, before she tightly grasped Alex's arm to lead him as one would a child. It was a sorrowful sight to see, as a gangling limbed man was half-dragged through the golden hued halls by someone nearly a foot shorter than him. He could have sworn he had heard some muttering from her; something half-way between resignation and a curse. Alex simply went with the flow of things, as he always did, before the both stopped outside a chamber door.

“Is this, uh, registration?” The Pestarzt felt compelled to whisper since all else was silent in the hall. He looked around himself uneasily; it wouldn't be the first time a girl had led him head first into an ambush.