ES: Prologue

Posts : 2 Reputation : -2 Join date : 2012-02-22

It's morning.

Morning. He doesn't know what morning means. At least, he doesn't anymore. The past months have been one continuous blur in this man's life: drifting from dawn to dusk, carried forwards by his task.

He never asked himself why. Never asked himself what keeps him going. "It's just a routine," he'd tell himself. "something I must do."

Virgin light rays shine through the blinds, dispelling the darkness covering the room and for a moment, this person's soulless, empty eyes glance towards the window, at the serene orange sky. The new beginning.

Warmth. That lost meaning, as well. His fingers try to grasp the intangible light as if trying to regain that meaning.

It's useless. Even the fresh scent of spring, the delicate chirping of birds, the chattering of children leaving for school; useless.

He repeats the same tired movements as he always does when coming back home. Shedding his clothes - his second skin, by now - he opens the door to the bathroom and after briefly looking at himself in the mirror, he steps into the tub. Or rather, he would, but today is different.

The man stares at his reflected image. Ah, no... he's glaring. That's not him. No, he can't believe it. Surely, the short chestnut hair, the hazel irises, the gaunt, concave features of his visage, they're all his, but...

As if awakening from a long slumber, awareness hits him: he doesn't want this.

Why? Why now? He could've went on.

Why? Why, when he's so close?

A bloodied face, drained, pale, and tired stares right back into his eyeballs, piercing him, but not because it's strong, no. Because it's so void of anything.

The blood had already become stuck to his skin, a deep blackened crimson clashing with the surrounding fairness.

It wasn't his, of course. It couldn't be his. No one could see him coming, after all; he received the harshest training the Agency could offer. He had driven his knife into her neck before she even realized she was giving her last breath.

Just as tears roll down his cheeks before he can even realize he's crying.

-- E V E N I N G | S T R O L L --

-prologue

It had been about six hours since his plane landed at Ciampino Airport, Rome. An exhausting nine-hour flight before that. Thus, it comes as no surprise that he'd be crashed on the bed of the hotel room, his thought processes disabled by a splitting headache.

A groan escapes his open mouth.

His sister, on the other side, is fine. Nicholas couldn't get any sleep on the plane nor the train, but she snored her way through the trip with no problems. And now? She's doing her best to bother him, of course. Like always.

"Hey, hey." she leans down and shakes his shoulder firmly. "This is no time to sleep, Nick. We're finally here!"

Brilliant blue eyes gaze past the blonde strands of hair covering them blankly. Willpower gone, he can't even respond.

"Oh come on... You're 17, you should be full of energy."

The youth doesn't protest, and his eyelids slowly close of their own accord, like curtains closing on a story, consciousness sinking into delicious, theta wave sleep.

She just smiles at his peaceful profile and pulls her hand away. "Always a kid, eh?" A nostalgic tone, dragging her back to better times. Downcast, she sits next to him and reminisces. "Lucky..."

The source of all life hangs at the highest point in the sky, embracing the city with its immaculate light like a mother would embrace her child. Past the window glass, the sprawling structures present themselves in all their glory. Narrow, worn streets alternating with modern architecture and roads, separating at a glance the older and newer portions of the town. In the distance, a lone sax plays in the piazza, situated in the center of it all.

The man doesn't seem to have much success at this hour, since everyone is at work or at school, but he isn't discouraged. He keeps playing anyway; and he's good. Soon enough, she finds herself enamored with the song. Is it because it's amplifying her feelings? She feels sad, but happy at the same time, the mixed emotions fighting for control inside of her. Breathing in as if becoming one with the atmosphere of this peaceful Italian corner of the Earth, she gets up and heads for the balcony.

- - -

He's having a beautiful dream. His sister is gone and all that permeates the room is sile-

...It's not a dream. Eve really is gone, and he can't hear a sound. The scent of pungent, womanly perfume invades his nostrils and as he slowly lifts himself up, he realizes the sun is already setting and she went to eat dinner without him.

"Well, at least she's been considerate." he smirks, half-asleep, noticing the blanket enveloping him. That smirk doesn't last for long though: his stomach is rumbling and she abandoned him there. What was she thinking? He doesn't even know Italian, what's he supposed to do? A great start to his trip, he ponders sarcastically.

His trusty wristwatch indicates it's 7 PM, so Nick liberates himself of the blanket and stands up. He's still wearing what he had on yesterday; truly, he didn't have the force to even change himself. Thankfully, his luggage is just beside the bed, and soon enough he has other clothes on: an orange, nondescript t-shirt tucked neatly into a pair of dark blue jeans, fastened with a black leather belt.

Nicholas is not a man of fashion.

The young man walks towards the front door to leave the room and head towards the lobby. "I might as well," he mutters to himself. "I'll probably find her or so-"

Oh, yeah. He doesn't actually have the keys,... his sister does. Nevertheless, he tries turning the knob, perhaps she left it open?

She did. He lets out an enthusiastic "Alright!" as he steps out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

However, in that same hotel, there's a guest that he knows well...

[ooc: You better not fuck this up.]

Posts : 110 Reputation : 3 Join date : 2011-04-04

One page. The final obstacle.

Elijah stares the sheet down with tired eyes. He is already ahead with his work, his progress months ahead of those in public schools. Luckily his questions are not too difficult for him. As he works, Elijah's mind wanders to a promise that was to be soon fufilled.

"If you finish the rest of the year's work, we will go to Italy." His mother's voice was speaking in a joking tone, but when she saw the determined face from her son, she decided to make it a reward.

"But only if you finish it all!"

Just the thought is keeping Elijah from stopping. His pencil moves around and makes loud scribbling noises. He is pressing down quite hard-obviously excited to finish. Suddenly the pencil drops and hits the desk. It wasn't an accident, and it most certainly was not out of frustration.

A small smile eclipses upon Elijah's thin lips. "Oh, Mom~!" he calls happily. "Guess what?"

----

Mrs. Underwood upheld her promise to take her son to Italy, albeit she did tell him that it would be quite some time before they left. Or, at least it seemed like it would be. In reality though, the two were prepared to leave within the month.

"It's a good thing I decided to start saving money up for this trip. I couldn't take us to any of the more popular places because of the money, but we'll be going to a smaller town in Northern Italy," she explains to her offspring at dinner the night before. She had been trying the keep the location as secret as possible to be a surprise, but Elijah could be a real pest!

Unsatisfied, Elijah tries to get more information from his mother. "Is that the most you can tell me? We're going tomorrow anyway!" He gives his mother a saddened look. "It wouldn't hurt to let me know just a biiiit more, would it?" He knows he is now begging, and he knows he still won't get his answer.

"No! Now stop hounding me, finish your food, and then go make sure you're all packed for the trip!" Mrs. Underwood is not angry but she isn't at all accepting of her son's pestering.

The teenager follows the commands. His suit-case is packed tightly. He does not have much. Just his changes of clothes, his toothbrush, toothpaste, and comb. Well, those and some trading cards, and regular playing cards. He knows he won't see any of his friends from their favorite card shop, but he can at least make new decks and strategies.

Once everything is packed and ready, Elijah throws his shirt on the ground and climbs into his bed. His mother said they would be out of the door by 4am; it is already 8pm. But now it does not matter, for he is asleep.

---

Now it is three in the morning. Not a soul in his entire neighborhood is awake. Except of course, Elijah and his mother are.

"Get in the car, now!" Mrs. Underwood yells. She doesn't mean to be loud, so she calms her voice midway through. Their neighbors are still quiet and sleeping. Why should she wake them?

"Don't worry mom." His voice carries through the air, indicating two things: he is awake and he is tired. Very tired. He does not have the grace of time to take a shower, so instead he just changes into new clothes.

When he runs down, he is lifting up his suitcase with some strain and is grateful as he puts it down. He is wearing a blank, white t-shirt that is covered up by a pure black jacket that had once been the fleece to a coat. He has black jeans on, not because he is depressed or trying to look different, but because he actually enjoys the color and finds it easy to match any clothes with.

"Time to go yet?"

---

The two now enter the vehicle and leave their home after securing the building. They have asked a neighbor to watch over while they couldn't.

The Underwoods live a good distance from the airport and use up an hour of driving. Finally, they are at the destination.

By 5am, they are boarded. Their flight is now taking off. Elijah doesn't notice; he does notice the creatures around him in his dream, though.

Mrs. Underwood is not tired, unlike the other passengers on the plane. She is so used to being awake at ungodly hours. She feels like laughing at some of the expressions of people trying to stay awake.

It is a long flight, at least nine hours. She decides she will get some sleep now. . .

---

"Well Eli. Once we're off the train, we'll be just a block or two from our hotel!"

"I know, Mom. We're in Italy now. Don't you know any Italian?" he questions. He already knows the answer, but would love for her to show off. It's as if he wanted to let other passengers think that his mother was a genius--someone who mastered two languages.

Smiling softly, Mrs. Underwood nods. "Certamente!" She knows no one on the train is interested in someone speaking Italian. If it was rare, it would be quite frightening.

The farther on they went, the more people got on and left. They would be the ones to sit on the train for six hours. A great frustration.

---

"At last!" They were able to get off of the train and walk the short distance to the hotel.

"Hello, I'm Violet Underwood, checking in."* she says to the employee at the desk. She engages in a small conversation with the worker while she pulls up information and prepared the key to the room.

Eli looks about. The walls are painted in olive-colored paint. It is weird to him. Usually hotels have wallpaper, not just paint. It does not matter much. He sees there are few people around. His heart hopes he will see a card shop member as he realizes how far away he is and that he will miss them greatly for the duration of the trip.

"Hmm.."

[OOC: * - Get it? Her name is Violet so I used the violent font color? Ehhh? Get it? Ehhhh?]

Posts : 2 Reputation : -2 Join date : 2012-02-22

[ooc: OKOKOKOKOKOKOKOKOKOKOKOKOKOK OK OK OK OK OKAY OKAAAAAAAAY]

"Mission: find sister. First objective: get to lobby."

Always been a quirk of his. Even though he's 17, he still indulges in these childish fantasies of grandeur, picked up from playing such an extensive library of games. Not just video games, mind you; everything from tabletop role-playing games to card games. Often, he imagines himself in one of them, to defeat boredom, or just add that small hint of dramaticism to his routine.

"Nah... too plain." A smirk, followed by a loud sigh. "Just like this hotel."

The condescending, arrogant nature he usually supresses comes out at moments like this. Nick scans the hallway: the walls are of a dull olive, paint rather than wallpaper. The doors to the rooms, a tired, common timber. Maybe a dark pine? "Bah, the floor is even duller. At least it's carpeted, but this green is terrible." he mutters silently to himself, trying to endure the urge to insult further. Nicholas was never a man of fashion, but he always had a knack for colors - well, art - and, gently put, he can't decide whether the hotel has a classic or cheap look.

"Maybe both."

- - -

"You're backing down, huh." Disappointment, with just a little bit of boredom mix in her voice tone. "You know we can't let you do that," she continues. "we'll have to take action."

She lightly stirs her drink with the thin, striped straw. No alcohol tonight; not really in the mood.

"I know I can't change your mind about this, and I know you want my help."

The glass approaches her full red lips, and she takes a sip. Her gaze meets that of the man in front of her.

"Likewise, you know I can't go against them. So..."

"It's selfish of me." the man sitting across from her finishes her train of thought. He seems tense, ready to go at any minute. There's nothing on his side of the table. "You've got your life to protect and I would be bringing you down with me if you helped."

"Right. So what makes you think I'll accept?"

"Information. And it's about someone really close to you." he says it lightly, just like that.

The atmosphere of the small café freezes.

- - -

Ding. The elevator stops, the doors open, and he's on the ground floor of the hotel. Between him and the lobby, the only obstacle left is another hallway.

It's weird to him. The layout. You enter the hotel on the left side of the building, and that's where the lobby and reception desk are located. It's a fairly large space with sparsely placed furniture, mostly red linen sofas with assorted coffee tables just in front of them. Again, terrible colors.

On your right from the lobby, there's the corridor with the first set of rooms, from 100 to 105. Oh yeah, another thing that bothers him. "Why 100? It's the first room." Or rather, frustrates him. He sees this in every hotel he goes to, enough to really grind his gears. Past that, you've got another large space about the size of the lobby, with the elevator on one end, the stairs on the other, and the two bathroom doors in between. The other three floors are pretty much the same, the only difference being the room mirroring the lobby, although Nick didn't really pay attention to what they were, specifically.

Either way, done with his rather condescending analysis, he reverts to his other self. He has more important things to do now.

The lobby is right in front of him.

[ooc: OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY RUSHED the decline in quality is only temporary BLAME PROCRASTINATION and Persona 3 BUT you better not type lower-quality posts because of this because ARGH]

Posts : 110 Reputation : 3 Join date : 2011-04-04

Now Elijah is bored, his mother has gotten too far into a conversation with the receptionist to actually give him the card to the room. He begins to glance around, staring at everything. Unfortunately a wave of fatigue flushes his body, slowly shutting down everything. He sits on the ground, his mother not even noticing. How nice, she doesn't even see her son can't stand up anymore. Too deep in a conversation for that. Oh mom. He keeps glancing around. There is almost no one, and anyone who is, is just walking to rooms or out of the building.

Now Eli is in an emergency mode. He knows if he sleeps his mother will get mad at him, and if he doesn't he will pass out. He needs something to do, as his mother has spent the past five minutes just wasting away. Suddenly, a figure is seen. It's familiar, and it brings up a memory of a friend; the memory of a best friend even. It cannot be though, the card shop is thousands of miles away. And the person in mind moved away, almost silencing a friendship forever.

I must be too tired to see.

He blinks. The figure is still there. It isn't an illusion; it definitely isn't a mistake either. Almost jumping, Elijah gets up. He leaves his suitcase by his mom - who still hasn't even turned her head from the obviously enchanting speech-exchange - and walks over. As he gets closer, Eli sees it. His eyes must be deceiving. Suddenly, the room is empty except for the four. But the fourth person has no clue of the other three until:

"Nick.. it can't be."