- Messages
- 63
- Character Biography
- Link
“Even in the depths of the city, the brutalist architecture is always in view...” The man whispered as he stood against the wall of the alleyway, stone expertly placed and shoddily maintained. Looking across from him stood a man that seemed to be shrouded almost entirely in darkness, standing by the same wall. “The only true difference is the flags and livery. Up on top, it’s like a carpet draped across rows of teeth.”
Standing up straight, he crossed his arms over his broad chest. Dagonet was a large figure, scar riddled, and burdened by a self-proclamation of above average cunning. “But down here in the guts, like patches of skin marked by mange and disease.”
The figure across from him seemed to shift, glancing at the hint of a golden view towards the open sky and the ensnaring top levels of the nearby buildings. Dagonet understood the figure, his confusion for the meeting location was clearly causing some trepidation. It wasn’t much more than a bulge in the alley, where the route widened to hold extra space for any manner of reason. But it had particular advantages, including nearby entrances and intersections.
“In the gaps we’ve got the limbs and glares of all manner of would-be criminals. Veterans too, on the prowl for the next rush.” The hooded figure looked upwards again, as if the statement was literal. “And the ruckus can be deafening in the breaks between the quiet, noise for all manner of undertakings…”
“I understand.” The figure, seemingly immune to the shine of the moon or nearby lamps, interrupted. “There are many mouths to feed and very little food to feed them. I should be fortunate to be alive, let alone standing here to receive this opportunity.”
Dagonet seemed to pause, startled by the strange tone of the voice. Scratching his bald head with a set of dirty nails, he smiled.“...Right. That’s…that’s right. Uhh, anyway. You’re here for the…”
“Yes.” The man interrupted again. “You have requested a man’s life. I am here to see that balance paid.”
Riley
Standing up straight, he crossed his arms over his broad chest. Dagonet was a large figure, scar riddled, and burdened by a self-proclamation of above average cunning. “But down here in the guts, like patches of skin marked by mange and disease.”
The figure across from him seemed to shift, glancing at the hint of a golden view towards the open sky and the ensnaring top levels of the nearby buildings. Dagonet understood the figure, his confusion for the meeting location was clearly causing some trepidation. It wasn’t much more than a bulge in the alley, where the route widened to hold extra space for any manner of reason. But it had particular advantages, including nearby entrances and intersections.
“In the gaps we’ve got the limbs and glares of all manner of would-be criminals. Veterans too, on the prowl for the next rush.” The hooded figure looked upwards again, as if the statement was literal. “And the ruckus can be deafening in the breaks between the quiet, noise for all manner of undertakings…”
“I understand.” The figure, seemingly immune to the shine of the moon or nearby lamps, interrupted. “There are many mouths to feed and very little food to feed them. I should be fortunate to be alive, let alone standing here to receive this opportunity.”
Dagonet seemed to pause, startled by the strange tone of the voice. Scratching his bald head with a set of dirty nails, he smiled.“...Right. That’s…that’s right. Uhh, anyway. You’re here for the…”
“Yes.” The man interrupted again. “You have requested a man’s life. I am here to see that balance paid.”
Riley