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nice of you to drop in

Discussion in 'Pandora, Year 1 - 7' started by Phillip Carlyle, Dec 26, 2017.


  1. December 24th, Y7
    @The Creature

    If Phillip had to pinpoint a moment in his life where it had gone wrong, most would probably expect him to say running off to join the circus. But if he was being honest, that was only when everything had began to go right, like stars aligning in place and puzzle pieces slotting together perfectly to put him exactly where he needed to be. No, where it had gone wrong had probably been somewhere in between his decision to walk through Blackhaven alone at night and now.

    "Good evening, gentlemen," Phillip said as smoothly as possible with his back up against an alley wall and a knife pressed to his throat. His smile was nervous and strained, but damned if he wasn't going to try his best to talk his way out of this one. "Nice-- Nice night we're having, no?"

    Yeah. This wasn't working. Not for the first time, he'd wished he'd payed more attention when some of the performers were trying to teach him a few tricks for fighting dirty, but he'd always assumed as the rich boy of the show, he'd be the safest walking home at night. Not like them, of course, who stood out wherever they went and received nasty looks in turn. He'd like to say he was more like them then he'd originally assumed -- and he'd even be proud if it were true -- but this time, his misfortune was kind of through his own bad decision making than anything else. The thing making him stand out in a crowd wasn't his physical features, but rather the nice suit he was wearing.

    The knife pressed down harder on his throat and Phillip in turn pressed as far against the wall as possible with his chin up. However, every centimeter he gained away from the blade, it got that much room to get closer. He just had to hope he could avoid gulping in nervous fear and make a bad situation turn worse.

    "I don't suppose you'll believe me if I say I've been a little down on my luck since arriving here," he tried to reason. "I mean, surely, there's not much of a profit to be gained here with the few dollars I have, right, gentlemen?"

     
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  2. The Creature

    The Creature Mary Shelley's Frankenstein

    Posts:
    49
    Gender:
    Male
    Race:
    Golem
    Age:
    Indeterminate
    Alignment:
    Chaotic Neutral
    The Creature had enjoyed becoming the "Golem of Blackhaven" although he thought the name they'd chosen was awful. Jaji had been supportive of the idea, though her constant questioning on if he'd been shot when he'd return to their shared home during the night had annoyed him...until he'd actually been shot. But that hadn't really been that much of a problem, he was right as rain the next day and back out and about. He was in his long coat, hood pulled up with his hair obscuring enough of his face so when the light hit his wet, yellow eyes just right they'd shine unnaturally. He had come across this commotion on his way home. It wasn't his usual deal, the man didn't seem like he was homeless in fact he looked rather upper crust but still a person was a person and The Creature couldn't discriminate based off of the look of the victim. He scaled the nearest building and positioned himself over the three. He leaped of and landed behind them with a thud.

    The thieves whipped around to stare at the hunched over form. Only to step back when it's glowing yellow eyes focused on them and it stood, it's breathing picking up until it's shoulders heaved with every loud, feral breath. "Drop the knife." He snarled at them and before he could even think about doing anything else one of them lunged at him in panic, thrusting out the knife, he caught it in the palm of his hand, the blade sank through, stinging but he'd heal, he always healed. He snarled louder and tugged the knife from the man's hand then grabbed his head and tossed him aside. The man groaned and his friend ran to his side, trying to scramble him onto his feet. The Creature roared after them making sure they ran far away. "Run Cowards! Run!" He stood, watching them as they ran, his breathing slowing down.
     
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  3. 'Run, cowards! Run!'

    Phillip honestly didn't need to be told twice, but it had suddenly become a bit of an issue with his knees threatening to buckle as he leaned back against the wall. The adrenaline could've been from a knife to his throat or the giant-- whatever it was leaping down from a building to put the fear of god into everyone present, but no matter the reason, it made his stomach flip-flop as he waited for his inevitable death.

    Fortunately, it didn't come, even after long moments of him standing completely still and looking up at him with raised eyebrows and dismay all over his expression. But as soon as he realized he was being saved rather than just being thrown into a larger, hotter frying pan, Phillip straightened up a little from the admittedly rather pathetic cower he had been in. His head tilted in curiosity and he craned his neck to try and look him in the eye.

    "How tall are you?" was his first question, blurted out from the top of his head and the tip of his tongue. He brushed a bit of his normally styled hair out of his eyes as he squinted, the faint scent of alcohol on his breath. Phillip did seem a little too stumbly for someone who was entirely sober. His second question was, naturally: "Were you just waiting up on the roof to do that?"

     
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  4. The Creature

    The Creature Mary Shelley's Frankenstein

    Posts:
    49
    Gender:
    Male
    Race:
    Golem
    Age:
    Indeterminate
    Alignment:
    Chaotic Neutral
    The Creature popped his shoulders and looked at the man, now it made sense as to what he was doing there. Drink. Making fools of men, both rich and poor. Usually he would walk away after that but with the man right next to him and addressing him instead of cowering he supposed he could humor him. He turned around and smiled at the man, smiling a little. "The best way to put on the show is to be dramatic with it, scare them. Then you don't have to risk harming them too severely." He lowered his hood and moved his hair from his face revealing his lack of nose and dark black lips and pale whitish green skin. He combed his with his fingers, he had only gotten a little bit of water to wash up with in the cistern no soap either so his hair had started to knot. Not that he showered much before or bathed he usually just sat in the water and poured it over his head until he couldn't smell himself anymore. But living with Jaji meant he had to at least wash up more often since she demanded he not stink up her home. Still the tangled unkempt look added another air of savagery that helped him in his mission on the streets.

    "But perhaps I wouldn't have to if you wouldn't take walks in the darkest part of town during the night. Especially dressed so affluently."
    He motioned to his jacket and fixed his own coat. The Creature had no doubt that with that coat this would not be the last time the man would need saving before the night ended if he stayed in Blackhaven.
     
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  5. Phillip brightened up upon hearing a mention of great shows. Now that was something he knew quite a bit about, being that he was Barnum's replacement as ringmaster and former apprentice. He had large shoes to fill -- clown shoes really, if he was being a little meanly honest with his drinking -- but he had faith and confidence in himself to do it.

    "Spoken like a true showman," he said with a pat to his savior's arm, uncaring of his outward appearance. He'd seen far worse in New York City's poorer parts during his...well, his wilder years, and again anytime he had to do circus recruitment while Barnum was away. And after all, it wasn't like any bad smell could bother him any longer after living so close to elephant pens. "Of course, my shows don't really have anything to do with intimidation. Or...harming our customers, in fact."

    He eyed him with vague interest. It had occurred him to try and recreate his circus in Pandora, and this man would certainly fit right now in. Not as an insult, of course, especially since Phillip had nothing but respect and admiration for his performers. They were as much his family now as they were each other's. But....no, he couldn't. Could he? Of course not.

    "I understand," Phillip admitted a little sheepishly, tugging at his fine coat as if readjusting it would help. "I haven't gotten around to getting another one, you see. I've just only recently arrived. And perhaps it's foolish to also choose to be here if I don't plan on letting this one go, but I do confess it brings me a small degree of...comfort with its familiarity." He smoothed his palm over his chest idly. "Drinking alone on Christmas Eve doesn't necessarily lend itself to sound decision making, I'm afraid."

     
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  6. The Creature

    The Creature Mary Shelley's Frankenstein

    Posts:
    49
    Gender:
    Male
    Race:
    Golem
    Age:
    Indeterminate
    Alignment:
    Chaotic Neutral
    The Creature let out a humorless laugh, he had the voice and vocabulary of a showman but the features of a circus freak, perhaps worse than most circus freaks. Most of them just had medical conditions but his condition was from being cobbled together piece by piece as some...vanity project for a genius man who couldn't comprehend his own responsibilities to his creation, to the world. The Creature looked at the coat the man was referring to, while it fancy the golem's tastes were...less bright and gaudy, although it could be argued his clothing was made from scrounged up materials and the like but still he had his own style, long coats and high necked shirts, loose so he could move his limbs how he wanted. Yes he was unwashed, unkempt and rather hard to be around due to the smell most of the time but still he had used those traits to his advantage when he dropped in on the attempted mugging.

    "Ah nostalgia, a reasonable excuse then."
    The Creature didn't quite understand the appeal of drinking to forget issues, drink seemed to just make everything worse from what he saw but it wasn't those words that caught his attention. "Christmas Eve? Oh...it is isn't it?"
     


  7. Fortunately for the man, 'unwashed, unkept, and smelled like a zoo' described more or less a majority of his performers. Of course, it wasn't all of them -- no reason to perpetuate the stereotype, even in his own mind, but living in a tent didn't do much for many men's hygiene. Living next to elephant pens? That helped even less. The man's smell had little on the post-show stench of manure and sweat that lingered until they had a chance to air everything out and clean up.

    "Indeed it is, sir," Phillip confirmed with a pleasant smile, feeling more at ease with his rescuer the longer they spoke. He seemed like an intelligent and kind enough man just from his brief first impression, and certainly, Phillip wasn't blind to his deformities. It was just that learning to live with and lead the circus had made him see oddities in a different light than most. If anything, his appearance just made him more fascinating. "I have to say, I'm no stranger exactly to covering up my...lack of holiday cheer with drink, but these past few years have given me little reason to. I'm afraid I've fallen back on quite a bad habit, and you were unfortunate enough to witness me pay the price, I'm afraid."

    Phillip at least had the decency to remain sheepish over the circumstances the man had found him in. It was no secret he was no fighter no matter how many times the performers had tried to teach him how to throw a punch. It was one of the remaining holdovers from his life as a rich, pretty boy -- he was certain fights were better solved with words than with fists. Granted, the circus fire had proved otherwise... But still, his talents laid in other things than combat.

    "Excuse my manners," he said suddenly, removing his hat from his head and offering his other hand out for a handshake. "My name's Phillip Carlyle. I've recently arrived in Pandora and found myself more or less out of a job, but before that, I was the ringmaster for Barnum and Carlyle's Traveling Circus."

     
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  8. The Creature

    The Creature Mary Shelley's Frankenstein

    Posts:
    49
    Gender:
    Male
    Race:
    Golem
    Age:
    Indeterminate
    Alignment:
    Chaotic Neutral
    The Creature took the man's hand and shook it, holding it in his tight grip, the skin of his hand pulling taught over the muscles. The man was drinking sorrows, he had seen plenty doing that and had plenty of abuse shoved at him. He could take it though, words had just become that to him, words that meant little. But this lad seemed fine, perfectly fine really. Polite, modest, he was a refreshing person to save on the streets instead of someone slightly ungrateful who instantly wanted to get back to the shadows. He released the man's hand and backed up. "I'd give a name but I...was never given one by my creator, I've been thinking on changing that at some point. But an idea escapes me." He never thought about names, he wasn't like normal people, he'd never been born, he called no Gods his own, he wasn't even sure if a God would accept him, if he had a soul to accept at all. So instead he simply addressed others before they could try and address him most of the time.

    "I live in the sewers, I...have friends down there that rely on my...appearance to stave off any trouble they might get into."
     
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