Revival: My World is Dead

[Dr. Strange]

Here's an RP idea, I got it when talking to a friend on MSN.

The clock ticking on the wall was white noise to Myra as she sat in the ugly plastic chairs in her masters' suite. The man had no limits on his greed. It suited her just fine, she took what she wanted and left him to bug over where it went. The feeling of the cool wind left her skin longing for more. The old pig would never die. It's all your fault your parents are dead, Myra Banks. You couldn't save them and now you refuse to talk to anyone. A dark voice taunted, laughing.

[ST-84 Sahelanthropus]

An average looking man dressed in red garments was standing at the bar of an Inn, a few buildings down from the mansion that Myra lived inside. He ordered a drink from the bar, and payed the bartender for the drink then walked over to a seat in the corner of the room. When the bartender set his drink on the counter, he was surprised to see the glass slowly rise into the air, and gently float across the room. The people watched as the glass hovered over their heads, and then set itself on the table Virgil was sitting at.

[PhantomStone]

uschi walked through the town, on an arrend for herself to get some food. she steped through the town, her claws clicking on the hard ground. she was just ambiling allong when she walked into the bar to see a glass levitate across the room, she shook her head and walked to the bar she payed for a drink and waited at the counter for it to be ready.

[Dr. Strange]

A servant girl ventured up the two flights of stairs to Myra's room. "Ms. Banks, there is a package for you at the door, would you like me to bring it up?" The girl was barely ten, but then again, Grapper-Greed took them early.

Shaking her head to clear the voice away, she glanced at the child. "What?... Oh, yes. Please. Thank you, Mia."

(Back story found here)

[flames]

A lone figure stands tall within the crowd, as bold and vibrant as the midday Sun. He strides onwards, not with haste or impatience, but with the air of one on a purpose. Fiery fur dancing before the eyes of onlookers, haunting crimson eyes with focus as intense as an erupting volcano...
For a child of but 15 years of age, he made his presence and,, aye, his lack of normality, known. Nobody said anything, as only a few in the crowd were paying enough attention the dismal greyness of everyday life to have noticed him. He both stood out and blended in with the crowd, bold in his movements, yet somewhat restrained and graceful. Unusual in so many ways, yet his general appearance was very common. At one look he was a shadow identical to everyone else, at the second look he was a unique light shining out to the world.
Finally coming to a halt, this ominous figure who contained so many contrasts; so dull and yet so different, so insignificant but so noticable, glanced at the bar before him and glanced again at the mansion down the road. Making his choice, the figure entered the bar, his first step on the path to completing his mission in life, his reason for existing in this world...

[Dr. Strange]

The open window sent a cold breeze dancing along her skin. Her tunic rustled and Myra growled softly. Her fingers formed a fist and she slammed it into the wall, angry for no reason. Standing, the chair hitting the floor with a crash, she turned to the door as the knob turned. When it opened, she threw her dagger, hitting the wall behind her master and embedding it deep within. She muttered a foul word and bent, turning around to fix the chair.

"My apologies, Master. I didn't mean any harm to you." She said silkily, bowing after she'd righted the chair.

"Get dressed. We have someplace to be."

"Yes master."

With that, he turned and left, the door remaining open. His cloak made a swish of cloth and disappeared around the corner hidden by the open door. He was a strange man, full of secrets not even Myra knew.

She shuddered at his vacant expression, walking over to the door. Closing it softly, she bustled about her room, getting dressed. When she finished, she smiled at her reflection in her Master's mirror.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, one of the villagers scowled at Virgil. "WE don't take your kind here. Leave."

The bartender cleaned a glass absently, praying silently that no fights started. His wife, Sary, was in the back room, setting up a room for a couple just arriving. A shrill yowl made her turn towards the door where a feline-person walked in.

The feline smiled at one of the girls at the bar and sat a few feet from Virgil. "A drink, if you please."

[ST-84 Sahelanthropus]

Virgil raised an eyebrow, "And if I say no?" hirgil said, just finishing his drink, and setting it down on the table.

[Dr. Strange]

"THen we'll have to force you out." He replied with a glint of a dagger at his side.

Watching them with interest, the feline flicked her tail. "Gentlemen, could you please hold it down? My ears aren't as kind to me anymore. Thank you.." She then let her hood fall so that her golden eyes could be seen on a lion's face. Her teeth glinted proudly in the dirty tavern.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A knock on her door signaled the dagger'd been retreived and Myra nodded her head once to the reflection once and trotted over to the door, opening it with a smile. The sour, scarred horse trainer, Harlan stood outside her door, holding the dagger by the blade. His scowl softened as he looked her over. She was the closest thing he had to a doughter and the fact that she'd grown up so fast made him long to keep her forever. Knowing it was impossible, he offered her the weapon, smiling.

"Thank you, sir." She replied softly to his raised eyebrow. Her blonde hair was pulled back in cute pig-tails, much like his wife when they were younger.

"Myra, don't keep him waiting. Your roan is ready for riding." The man's gruff voice was less harsh around her than the stable boys or the girls.

"Yes, sir."

She moved around him to get out, looking back at him to smile sweetly. The smile was wistful.

[PhantomStone]

apollo looked over at the human and the bartender, with the lion there also, and shrunk deeper into he hood, hoping no on saw her odd green palor

[flames]

Flames sensed a disturbance and strode in swiftly and silently, his sharp eyes instantly recording anybody unusual and points of interest, like one customer who seemed to be hiding.
Within seconds he had reached the bar with not a single utterance from the villagers...yet. Noticing the tense, almost pre-fight atmosphere he mentally sighed. If he were to fight the chances of his other side coming out were a lot higher...
With no change in his expression or body language, his eyes met the bartender's, silently asking the man to serve him.

[Dr. Strange]

The bartender served him a glass of the house ale and watched as his wife came out and stared at the newcomers. Sighing softly, he waited for someone to start a fight.

The lioness looked at the new man and smiled, flashing white teeth. Her golden eyes offset her white fur. Candy cane sriped pads on her paws stood out further in the pale and suntanned crowd of humans. Catching his wife looking at her, she turned to her, a sweet sparkle in her eyes. "Ma'am, I'm looking for Myra. My name is Naal."

[PhantomStone]

apollo stood and kpt her had hidden in her hood, se left her money on her end of the counter and made for the door keeping her eyes down

[Dr. Strange]

Swiftly, she moved in front of the door and looked closely at the hooded woman trying to get out. "Excuse me, but would you happen to know where the child would be?" She asked politely.

[ST-84 Sahelanthropus]

Virgil chuckled at the man and his dagger, "And what do you have against a man like me? I payed for my drink, I have the right to sit here." he crossed his arms, and set his legs up onto the table.

[flames]

Flames made no movement to either side of the room, instead he took a sip of his drink and placed it down, eyes and ears focused intently. Nobody would ever notice as the effect was so small and completely invisible, but an odd cycle of wind was forming near his hand; a sign of preparition, of tension.