JACK COYT
MALE
Honeywood : Single #0307 FL Detective & Street Fighter[M:0:]
Posts: 8
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Post by JACK COYT on Jun 21, 2013 0:24:35 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width:400px; ,bTable] The streets were crawling with life; which wasn’t unusual just before the skies went dark. Throngs of people breathed these corners into existence, and he felt almost comfortable. Jack had been at this a long time, his track record littered with a myriad of successes and failures. Going over the figures and information in his head the whole while. However, being the prowl, so soon to actually sinking his teeth into a fight; he wouldn’t have it any other way. He trudged, slow and calm, through the streets his body bundled in a linen shirt, light brown almost khaki pants, and a pair of combat boots. Blue hair brushed against his forehead, the stubble had just started to set in on his face, which made him look older. He was rugged, pronounced jaw tightened while icy blue eyes stared down at the pavement. Recanting how the streets seemed to serve as a reminder to his punishment, moved up to more active duty. Something about all of it made him feel more excited, the cracks in the ground, it showed him that everything couldn’t be perfect and the flaws are what made people stand stronger.
His body burned with energy, heat licked at his muscles, fingers danced tracing the lining of his pockets. Jack listened to the city. While she was a beguiling mistress of misdirection and infinite patience From the screams of mothers that called their children, to the faintest sound in the distance of a bird. Hands were pulled from his pockets, someone bumped into him—completely ruining the calm; and moments spent in vain attempts to find the epitome of the city, where everything just sort of met. However, when he turned to make a fuss at this stranger that was more than eager to make trouble this day; didn’t he realize that this was Jack’s happy place? Often he forgets that people didn’t abide by his rules, but when Jack turned he realized that yelling shouldn’t have been his first reaction. Making eye contact with this stranger set off a chain of events. Pictures flashed across his eye lid, murmuring an apology, and zeroed in on a document that he left on the desk—brain switched to autopilot, so when everything synced up he knew what had to happen. It wasn’t until the FIVE FOOT FOUR man in BROWN SLACKS started to dash off, collar turned high on his GREY PEACOAT did he give chase. Jack was determined, but like in a bad action movie the moment the culprit ran the crowd formed. They bustled and tussled only to make a seemingly impenetrable wall that he could only frantically squeeze by.
“You’re going to lose him.” His subconscious remarked softly. Jack named her Eliza, and she spoke as if she sat at a desk, filing her fingernails. It was a welcomed thing to hear her, for it wasn’t for a while that they had last spoke; even if she did take up residence in the deep recesses. She was comfort, and probably the first sign of his own insanity.
“Shut up.” He spit back at her while he had just reached the end, the target was still in his sight. Determined he sprinted forward, as Fredderick Eisenford (target’s name ) dashed across a walkway, sprinting inside of a building. Jack was far from pleased, shouldering down the door, and rolling to a crouch. The tail end of the coat caught in his periphery heading to the stairs.
Fingers groped for a weapon, but the chase was already a foot. Equip with only his sense of duty, and the hunger for something other than noodles. Obviously someone didn’t want to get caught today. Jack, with renewed vigor, darted down the hall way close on the trail. That was until they reached the roof—from here New York looked immaculate, he couldn’t help but take in the sight. However, he was quickly pulled back to see his prey prepping the jump off of the buildings lip. Before he could even shout Fredderick was gone, soaring across to the adjacent building. The sound of boots against the roof, then down the side with the use of more than exceptional skill, and a fire escape.
Through the fervor of frustration, such a tumultuous rage built on the foundation of another strike Jack jumped after. Unequipped for the fall, but he landed clumsily landed on the ladder, losing balance and winding up in a trash bin. The pewter necklace thronged against his chest—sparking pain. Direct contact made him dizzy, staggering to his feet after rolling off back on the ground. Pushing forward still, Freddrerick was still before him, but Jack didn’t notice himself bumping into another. Attention taken away for just a second “Hey are you ok?” Pulling him out of super-cop mode, and into a world of hurt. The distaste of being chased through the city, especially when such an important date hung in the balance, pushed the culprit to violence. A third of a two by four struck true against the back of Jack’s head.
Almost causing a full tip forward, catching the loose weight with the stamp of his foot, and a hand on the knee. Groaning loudly which could have been mistaken for a roar. | | 878, NAVEEN, LETS ROCK THE CATBOX [atrb=valign,bottom] | |
LAIKA OF GS!
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NAVEEN KHATRI
MALE
Honeywood : Single #0308 Synister Lounge Singer[M:0:]
Posts: 8
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Post by NAVEEN KHATRI on Jun 21, 2013 1:23:00 GMT -5
Do you feel the despair? Our faces pale and thin, embraces cold and bare; we whisper lullabies so tearful as we glare. Touch the sky, as the horizon greys the blue. Hold your breath, can you feel my burden's weight? You crave for your revenge, are you disappointed too? You wish you had the strength to sacrifice your dream. The road to perdition; a dead ending dream. Will you paint the horizon if it leads to the end?
[/color][/font][/size][/div] Whenever he got mid shift, Naveen considered it a small blessing. With the way fate liked to play with his life, he tried to enjoy every kindness he could, but it was difficult. Whenever something good happened, he was quick to assume something would offput whatever niceties he managed to bask in. At the moment, he was simply happy to be off work as the evening set in. It meant he got to avoid most of Synister's leering night crowd. If he could find anything else that paid as well as singing in that fetish bar, he certainly would've jumped at the opportunity...But, in his opinion, his voice was the only thing talented about him...
And thus, the only way for him to reliably make money. So he stuck with it, even if some nights were bad enough to make it feel as if his skin were crawling. He didn't like the attention that the stage brought him, but again it came back to the question of 'what else could he do?' Shaking his head, he pushed away that train of thought and glanced up and down the street. It was probably easier to catch a cab to get home, but he never really enjoyed the thought of sharing such close quarters with another individual. So he settled for walking, which likely was the more dangerous of those two choices but, well. If he was known for making good choices, he wouldn't have all the problems he currently did.
It just so happened that destiny had a few other problems up her sleeves to throw Naveen's way. Deciding to cut through an alleyway was a poor choice. There was a clattering overhead and immediately his body tensed into fight or flight mode. Craning his head back, he peered upwards, gold eyes catching on the figures of two men apparently in mid chase. They clattered down the ladder and he did his best to get out of the way, but wasn't nimble enough. A soft grunt escaped him as he was bumped into, more tension settling into his shoulders.
Naveen really loathed physical contact. Surprisingly enough, the man asked if he was okay. Arching a thin 'brow, he offered a quiet, deadpan, "Fine." Before he had any chance to at least act like he was concerned by returning the question, a loud crack resounded. He stared blankly as the man in the grey peacoat hit the darker haired stranger and bolted. "Hey--" He started, before turning his attention to the man closer to him.
"Uh...you...okay, there...?" This he asked awkwardly, pale features schooled into calm placidity despite all of the nervousness pumping through him now. What the hell had he stumbled into? [/div] Coded by Kami of Starstruck![/center]
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JACK COYT
MALE
Honeywood : Single #0307 FL Detective & Street Fighter[M:0:]
Posts: 8
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Post by JACK COYT on Jun 23, 2013 0:20:18 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width:400px; ,bTable] ‘What do you remember?’ Eliza called as the pain spread from the base of his neck through his head, brain swimming in this dull throb that didn’t care to leave. Fingers groped at the fabric of his jeans, but she persisted to talk when he just wanted her to switch off for a second. ‘Come on Jack, you gotta get it together.’ Teeth grit as he, with much determination, raised up fully. Looking over his shoulder at Fredrick.
‘Fredrick hit me with the two by four, ran through the city, made a scene with acrobatics and put me in a terrible way.’ Eliza had more personality than he really wanted in a conscience. Maybe it was a bit more of a psychosis--a fault of his own active imagination. Jack was pissed, definitely cross with the way this whole thing worked out. He definitely blamed personal hubris. ‘Time to get to work then.’
A warm trickle of blood splashed against the collar of his shirt. A firm gaze was all that stood between Fredrick and possible death. The lord knew Jack wanted to end him on the spot. Fingers quivered in the evening air as he assessed the situation. There was an innocent in front of him, and a target behind him. Jack grabbed the strangers arm, pulling him up to his feet in one pull“I am sorry for bumping into you…but I must ask you a kindness.” Brushing fingers across the slender frame, grinning as he cleaned him off. “I need you to come with me, talk isn’t necessary.” He heard Fredrick running off down the alley way.
“We need to catch him, and I will pay you if you assist me.” Not really waiting for a reply, Jack tangled their fingers and lead the charge down the alley. Hair brushed back in the wind, as foot falls echoes off the bring walls. Clothes flittered, top button undone on his shirt so the wind could kiss his chest.
There was an absolute need that bore its way into Jack’s heart to explain himself. This was just supposed to be a simple job; catch Fredrick bring him in for questioning, and get him to serve his time. An escapee that made his presence extremely noticeable. Fredrick had a habit of killing prostitutes –the tally had been up to six last he checked. LUCKY DEVIL brought it to his attention at a reasonable price. LUCKY DEVIL was a simple pimp that just wanted to make his ‘ends’; a reference to moneys made for the sake of profit.
And now there he was, a lone gun chasing a perp with the help of a stranger. “The name is Jack btw…hope you are ready for an adventure.” Thrill bristled through his chest, spreading out like wild fire. Again all he could think of was the chase. | | 878, NAVEEN, LETS ROCK THE CATBOX [atrb=valign,bottom] | |
LAIKA OF GS!
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NAVEEN KHATRI
MALE
Honeywood : Single #0308 Synister Lounge Singer[M:0:]
Posts: 8
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Post by NAVEEN KHATRI on Jun 23, 2013 4:39:56 GMT -5
Do you feel the despair? Our faces pale and thin, embraces cold and bare; we whisper lullabies so tearful as we glare. Touch the sky, as the horizon greys the blue. Hold your breath, can you feel my burden's weight? You crave for your revenge, are you disappointed too? You wish you had the strength to sacrifice your dream. The road to perdition; a dead ending dream. Will you paint the horizon if it leads to the end?
[/color][/font][/size][/div] The lounge singer barely had time to comprehend what was going on. So much was going on all at once, he had little time to really absorb much information. All he knew was someone was in his close personal space and there was a bit of touching going on. The corners of his mouth quirked downwards in a scant beginning of a frown, not really liking the turn his evening was taking. All he wanted to do was get back to his flat and spend some time alone in relaxing silence. Instead, he was confronted with a situation that seemed to get more absurd every passing moment.
"What--" He started to protest, feminine voice lilting, but before he had the chance to get much more out...They were on the move. Naveen didn't even have the chance to try to pull away either, his hand captured by the stranger's. Hell, he didn't think the man should be running after the blow to the head the other received, but...He wasn't a doctor, so what did he care, anyways? Golden eyes narrowing, he fixated a stare at the back of the shorter male's head as they trudged along, letting out a small huff.
"I don't know how you expect me to help," muttered the lanky male indignantly. Honestly, didn't his companion know just who he was trying to get aid from? Naveen didn't think very highly of himself, there was no way he had any place in this chase...Whatever it was. The money, while enticing, wasn't as appealing as it could be while doing something that required no physical contact.
[/div] Coded by Kami of Starstruck![/center]
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