NEWS

Tales from the Streets (Pol)

  • 2 Replies
  • 1292 Views

Red Canti

  • *
  • Omae
  • ***
  • Posts: 379
  • Hybrid Rainbow
« on: (04:04:17/08-07-13) »
There's a boy out there, he's old enough to be a man. But his mind is broken, stuck in a childlike haze where everything is a game, even matters of Life and Death. A bullet to his head took away his adulthood, his maturity, functionality, his right fragging eye.

But not his memories. For that boy, the moment when he stopped being a man is keep in crystal clarity, a thing he'll never be allowed to forget. And he remembers being smarter, being saner, understanding things that to the person he is now are incomprehensible. He remember this and his heart breaks, as only a child's can. Then, mercifully he forgets. But only for a little while. Like a bad ache, it always comes back.

And if he was an ordinary boy, that would be the end of it. But we know that's not how it is. When he was a man, he was extraordinary. An unmatched crackshot, a killer, a protector, a brother. A man who rose meteorically through the ranks of Seattle's Mafia, and fell from it even faster. And what got him there, those skills, those habits, that terrifying gunplay, that wasn't lost either. And with that and just a bit of happenstance and a little kindness he found a new family. One that gave him a new life, a new eye, a new purpose.

So all you Made Men out there, especially you who robbed him of almost everything and left him for dead, beware. Even after a bullet through his eye and a 14 floor drop, he's still alive. He's made some new friends and killing lots of old enemies.

These days you might not even recognize him, but that's all right for all that's changed his name still remains. As it was when you were children, folks still call him D.E.
« Last Edit: (13:28:32/08-15-13) by Red Canti »
"Always Trust Mr. Johnson, always. Just make sure he knows he'd regret betraying that trust."

Red Canti

  • *
  • Omae
  • ***
  • Posts: 379
  • Hybrid Rainbow
« Reply #1 on: (20:28:22/08-14-13) »
When one stopped to think about it, the odds of Polaris Astrum actually existing were pretty damn thin. To begin, there was his metatype, 95% of children of his particular parentage would goblinize at a certain age. And yet, years passed by without him ever growing so much as a Tusk, unlike his 3 sister and 5 brothers and countless cousins, uncles and aunts. It landed him in a lot of trouble. Him and that Tattoo he had on his Shoulder, of a Star with the 3 tips pointing downwards with an upside down A forming in the center. The Logo of Astrum Arms. The only licensed Firearms store that could get away with doing business in the Ork Underground.

You see, damn near any human, dwarf or heaven forbid elf walking around with that tattoo would get jumped and dragged off to the egrand. To Pol's Grandad, James P. Astrum. Then the stupid wannabe ujnort would be presented with a knife, or maybe a heated up steam kettle. And then the tattoo got removed. Painfully. It wasn't exactly because of racism. More like nepotism, being an Ork certainly wouldn't excuse you from trying to usurp the family name. The only people who can run around with that kind of mark is family. Ujnort ain't family. So Ujnort can't run around pretending to be them.

This almost happened to Pol about twice in his life. In fact, if it weren't for the fact his Grandad was present for every one of these procedures, his shoulder would probably be bearing a scar as opposed to a star. After the second time, the old man took Pol's cerri (Sirius, you might notice a pattern here) aside and made some arrangements. His hair got done up into dreadlocks and a few teeth were yanked out and replaced with some proper hez. They couldn't afford proper novacaine or painkillers, so that last one hurt like hell. Then again, a month of not eating solid food was absolutely worth it to Pol. People stopped messing with him, or at least had to verify before trying to drag him off to have his ink skinned off. Not to say it was a perfect solution though. He still got into a lot of fights. Still had to deal with trouble from Ragers and even family members. But, for the first time since he was a kid, he looked (and therefore felt) like he was family.

For most people, being that 5% would be enough trouble, for a lifetime. But probability wasn't done with him just yet. It was about 8 Years after Dunkelzahn bit the big one. Long enough for most of his family to get the hang of speaking Or'zet. Pol himself was making some in-city deliveries to a few loyal customers, when it happened. All of a sudden, it felt as if a million eyes had turned on him. Like some enormous, previously unknown entity had taken notice of him. And opened its billion mouths and screamed into the youth's mind.

Pol reacted in kind, his car careening off road into the pillar of a bridge as he screamed and thrashed and clutched at his aching head. He passed out. And woke up just inside of a free clinic around his neighborhood, with a splitting headache, a few nasty contusions. But nothing out of the ordinary, compared to many other patients brought in on this chaotic November day.

At least until he asked how he got there. Despite being out cold, Pol had somehow driven there. In his own car. Still buckled into the driver's seat.

The explanation for this wouldn't come to him for a long while. Not until long after he had taught himself to ignore the electronic buzz that always seemed to flare up around electronics and computers. Not that there were much outside of his delivery van. But it would come, as much as it'd hurt him to learn. And more than just the physical pain he was dealt in a Laboratory in MCT.

Yeah, the odds of Pol actually existing, to say nothing of continuing to, are pretty damned slim. Course, it's still more than none.
« Last Edit: (20:00:58/09-09-13) by Red Canti »
"Always Trust Mr. Johnson, always. Just make sure he knows he'd regret betraying that trust."

Deepeyes

  • *
  • Newb
  • *
  • Posts: 80
  • SRfic Aficionado
« Reply #2 on: (20:43:15/06-09-15) »
Butů butů butů where's the rest of it? :D