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Open Paradise Lost

Discussion in 'Blackhaven' started by The Creature, Dec 25, 2017.

  1. The Creature

    The Creature Mary Shelley's Frankenstein

    December 6th

    The Creature scrambled on the ground, unsure of where he was, so much like the day of his birth, he crawled through the alleyway, his coat and crude fur clothing still dusted with the Polar snow. His Father's body was not there, what had happened, had he died? Was this the afterlife and he was being punished? He had earned it but something must have brought him there. Perhaps one of the crew had snuck up on him and killed him. He felt the back of hi head, no damage or wound so...what had caused it? He walked out into the street, covering himself with his coat and climbing up the wall of a building. He crawled onto the roof and started to run, leaping to the next building and sending small bits of stone down onto the streets when his landing broke off weak brickwork. His breathing picked up as the lights began blinding him, neon pink colors flashing below him in the shape of a women in a provocative pose, the leg of which alternated between flicking on and off with another leg lifted into the air, giving the illusion of movement. What was this place, it was not the poles and it was not Geneva. He looked down at the street and knelled down watching the people in the streets. More people like him, some more disturbing than he could ever be with all his scars.

    This wasn't possible he couldn't be in Hell because there was no torture or anything that the books he'd read described. Just a normal winter day above him and normal....well seemingly normal people below him. He dropped down and moved into the crowd, at most people stood aside to let him pass, trying to avoid contact with him. He kept looking around entranced by everything, finally he stopped at a corner and sunk down to sit against the wall, curling in on himself as his body shook with silent sobs. He was being tortured for sure, in a world he was no longer hated, just ignored. He hated this more than being feared, at least with fear he was acknowledged. No matter how miserable an existence that was.
    Chloe Decker likes this.
  2. Chloe Decker

    Chloe Decker Lucifer

    Homicide Detective
    204 Selva Vista Apartments, Westcourt
    Lawful Good
    While Chloe was the new detective on River Street, now and again she would patrol the other divisions when they were thin on the ground, as was the case today. Luckily, there didn't seem any signs of a commotion or suspicious activity in Blackhaven, which Chloe secretly felt thankful for. Even though she'd been well trained to perform under pressure and use her fear as a source of courage, the detective couldn't pretend this district didn't give her the heebe jeebes. There seemed to be a permanent fog over Blackhaven, following off the river and covering the entire neighbourhood. The buildings were dark and neglected, with many having broken windows or rotting at the foundations.

    Still, the citizens seemed peaceful enough as Chloe patrolled the streets that afternoon, her gaze surveying certain faces and situations, looking out for anything that might be unusual. Up ahead the crowd seemed to be parting and the detective squinted through the fog, trying to work out why. There seemed to be some kind of hooded figure, but despite his mysterious appearance, he didn't appear to be threatening or even saying a word. If anything, Chloe thought he looked a little lost, and she quickened the pace as the figure suddenly slumped against the wall and slunk down, either from pain or emotion.

    Many pairs of eyes quickly averted their gaze as the man sobbed, with some even looking frightened though Chloe couldn't understand why. It was only when she got close enough to see his face that she realised what was going on. "Sir?" She asked kindly, crouching down to his eye level. She tried her best to hide the shock from her face, quickly closing her mouth as she eyed his many scars and varying body parts. They all looked slightly different, with even the colour of his skin being unlike anything she'd ever seen.

    Still, regardless of how he looked, Chloe was more concerned with how he felt, and why he was crying on a street corner. "Are you okay?"