The Awful Truth

[Darkhawk76]

Look here (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=5806) for info.

He could hear them. Every hateful thought.

Why can’t you get a free meal somewhere else, bum? Why do I have to deal with you problems? You knew I wanted her, why did you take her. She deserved it, the bitch. Enjoy your dinner, because tonight, it’s all about what I want, and what I want is…

Kyle smiled. If one looked around the bar, you wouldn’t say it was a place of such darkness. It was a place of kindness, congratulations, and comforting lament. It was a place for two poor lovers to get a small bite, enjoying each other’s company.

Kyle knew the truth though. Man was the great pretender. They pretended to be kind, to be joyful, to comfort. They didn’t want to love. They wanted to use and be used. People said man was made in the image of the gods. Well, either the gods were the most horrible beings in existence, or it was just another lie of the great pretender.

Perched atop a stool in a Radasanthian bar, Kyle looked to all like one of the few patrons who flitted into the bar, looking to drown away their sorrows. In truth, underneath his darkened hood, he was smiling. You couldn’t help but smile when you knew the truth. He knew that there was no love in the world.

The young man let his mind continue its blind roving, picking up more of the truth hidden behind man’s faces.

I hate you. You think I love you? I hope you choke on that. She just didn’t want you, you little shit. Nod if you’re reading my mind…

Kyle froze. He turned his head and gazed over the crowd. In the corner, someone was staring at him.

He let his fly out to the man, the darkness and his clothing hiding everything but his gender.

Nod if you’re reading my mind. Nod if you’re reading my mind. Nod if you’re reading my mind. Nod if you’re reading my mind. Nod if you’re reading my mind…

Kyle nodded slowly.

Good, I didn’t want to be explaining if you weren’t listening. Is it listening? Or is there another term for it? I’ve heard reading used. Is that the correct way to say it? Then again, I don’t know why I’m asking you, all of our intel says you can only read minds, which is a horrible deficiency if you really want to be able to make it. Think about it, you’d be one of the best tools in a group covert operation. Completely silent communication. Too bad.

Kyle gave the man a look from his place across the room.

My, my. They said you were full of hate Kyle. And it shows.

Let me get to the point. I’m in need of your abilities. An organization I work for needs to know a man’s location, who he has working for him, who his friends are, what he likes, and any other pertinent information you can pull from his head. You’ll be paid, a lot.

And who knows, maybe we could find a few other uses for you afterwards. Like I said, you could be great.

So what do you say?

Silence.

Kyle probed, pushed. Silence. The man had somehow silenced his mind.

The young man got up and made his way slowly to where the shadowed man was sitting.

“What’s the specific of the job?” he asked.

An old, pock-marked, dried up face looked up at him from under a dark hood, a grin of broken yellow teeth cutting across it.

“Kidnapping.”

“Why?”

The old man gave a sickly, croaking laugh. “To show men the truth.”

[Samoa]

Every week spent in port was the same. Shoddy taverns ripe with meat and beer. Men and women chained into identical lives. The same words and desires repeated day after day. Little to wrap his senses into. Nothing to abate the wondering mind.

Every day was anticipation. Anticipation inevitably led to frustration, and frustration to the drink. Wrae had heard that the past repeated itself. At such times his father danced tormenting circles in his head, and he could only hope to drown that image in a river of sweet toxin. So his heart recessed into itself and with reddened eyes he had been pulled into still another roadhouse stained with the trouble and laughter of a thousand strangers.

On this occasion he had been directed to this establishment specifically. Not one to toss away the promise of fine brew, Wrae had decided to follow through with a tattered traveler’s recommendation. This had been the night previous.

As he waited now in the company of a worn chair and a pocked table, his eyes shifted from face to face, each one lost in the drab colors as quickly as it filled his vision. He fell finally on the aged specter occupying the front right corner. Tonight that visage was turned away, engaged now in conversation with a relatively young man whose eyes struck Wrae as noticeably blue. The older component of the pair was dressed as if to cover a hideous secret, a thick brown coat shrouding him securely. The young man – who the first had referred to earlier – moved freely in a light grey tunic and hood. Wrae was suddenly conscious of his almost ragged appearance.



“I’ve been referred to you as a merchant,” had begun the old man.

Wrae had corrected him.

“I’m a sea courier, actually. I do have experience in trade, though. What’s your situation?” he had asked.

A brief pause, in which the old man had run a hand down the side of his face.

“That’s not a problem,” he had begun. “I assume you’re able to take care of an active ship?”

“I can navigate,” had noted Wrae, “and I can keep a ship moving. I also make the arrangements for food and other supplies when we come into port. What is it you have in mind?”

The old man had smiled.

“I have a small delivery I need dealt with. A night from now. A man with your ability would be very useful to me, I’ll admit. I’m willing to pay you well, of course,” he had finished.



“Drink?” enquired the eager barkeep.

This bastard thought he had his customer where he wanted him. Not tonight. The two men in the corner were Wrae’s primary concern just now.

“I’m done,” he said firmly, and paid off his tab. The gold slid across the counter with a quiet glide that made him clench his teeth.

Stepping out into the mild night, Wrae waited in the semi-dark near the doorway to breathe in the lush awareness of the night. The stars were clear and the moon was large and bold in absence sunlight. Bodiless voices drifted through the purple space and filled up his lungs.

The evening sparkled with possibility.

[sdwdrake]

Crum was wondering around a large town it was the middle of the night and he was looking for someone who he had never met before and had no idea who he was except for his scent, the thought of having to find some fool by just his scent alone was starting to seriously piss Crum off, his commander had ordered him to find this man by any means because he had a job offering.

A few days earlier, the man had arrived at the merc camp and had made a request for one of his best and strongest fighters, and of course Crum had been chosen.

Finding the man wasn't as difficult as Crum had believed it would be because after 10 minuets of looking he found him in a bar waiting for him in a corner table.

"So this is the infamous Crum eh?" the man, from what Crum could tell from his scent.

Crum glares at the annoying man.

"You could have just given us a meeting area, you fool." Crum growls as he sits down beside the man.

"Oh, but I knew you would be able to find Me." the man says with a laugh.

Crum's glare just intensifies.

"Get to the point already, what’s the job you are needing me do."

The man just smiles at Crum.

“Straight to business then? Well I need you to aid in…” the man pauses for a second, “help make sure a business transaction runs smoothly.” His tone of voice showing that this job wasn’t legal.

“Sounds fun.” Crum understanding what his tone meant.

“Tomorrow be ready.”

Crum smiles and exits the tavern, to find some more fun before the night is over.