Show Me your Colors

Featured Item: .Reckless. – Port (TMD)

“Take me awaaaayyy,” he sang, in a soft voice, as he strolled into the old city park. Trees and shrubs bordered worn concrete paths, and old dented black rod iron trash holders that  were positioned here and there. They were an older style, but classy in a way, and seemed to wear better than the cheaper ones in the newer parks of the city.

Race opened the wallet he’d stolen, and counted the cash inside, and inventoried its contents. It wasn’t a fortune in cash, and the plastic would be cancelled soon, but at least he could live it up a little over the next couple of days. He’d dump the wallet in one of the trash cans later, most likely, after rubbing off any prints.

The guy he’d pick-pocketed had looked like such a well-to-do aristocrat, that he’d practically given Race the wallet. “Careless people lose things carelessly,” as he grandma had once told him. He tucked the billfold into the front of his pants and felts its solid rectangular presence against his middle.

He passed several children’s play sets: the monkey bars, the merry-go-round, and the swing set. Though a little worn and paint peeling here and there, they were still all usable, if a little squeeky, but that just gave them some charm.

The old condemned buildings nearby, however, were another story. They were a bit creepy and seemed haunted, since no one seemed to inhabit them. One building in particular, the ‘high rise’, a 7 story ‘tower tenement’ had been the scene of a grizzly murder spree, and folks had moved out after a time, as the stigma grew. Funny, as he looked over at the ‘tower’, he thought he could make out a figure wearing all black with a hoody on, standing at the top. He looked down as he stumbled on cracked concrete, and then looked back up when he’d righted himself, and saw the figure was gone. “Oh well, just another freak looking for a show. “ He said and chuckled, patting the wallet in the front of his pants.

That was fine with him – he didn’t want an audience, particularly now.

The sun in the late evening was warm on his face, so he slid his black button down shirt and the t-shirt underneath off, and tossed them on a nearby well-worn westerly facing park bench, then hopped up on the seat and sat down on the back-rest, facing the sun as it was nearly under the horizon, and twilight was fast approaching

The sun felt good on his skin,and he closed first his blue eye, and then the green one, and he took in a deep breath. He’d left his suspenders up after taking off his shirt, and the straps felt good as they rubbed over his chest, shoulders and his back with a slight scratchiness as he stretched. He lolled his head about, leaning back, probably a little too far, but his rough cut long white mane brushed down past his shoulder blades, and dangled in the soft breeze. His black pants had faint gray pinstripes, and were well fitted to his lean frame. He looked thin but tight and there was a hardness about him that belied the easy manner in which he took his ease.

He smiled as he glanced down at his arms, and his chest and ran his hands over his skin, admiring the inkwork he’d had done to his body over the last year. It was a form of control for him – something that was just for him  They were cool to look at, but he couldn’t care if anyone else admired them (though many did). And just like the thorn necklace, each tat had meaning.

“Hey, “ a voice said, and then the laughter of several other voices joined in. Threel young men, dressed in a variety of jeans and tshirts and hoodies and jerseys approached.

The main one, possibly the Alpha of the pack, was a dark haired boy, spiked and a day or two since his last bath, stubble on his cheeks and an attempt to grow a soul patch with a mustache and goatee. He looked to be about 18 or so, and wore a wife beater under his gray hoodie that was open in the front, the zipper wide open. Ripped blue jeans and army combat boots completed his ensemble, save the baseball bat, currently held in his right hand.

The two boys behind him were contrasting – one was a blond twink, looking like he was a rough skater boy with messy hair that ran down almost to his ass, and the other was red-haired and was similar in build – both wore black beanies down to their ears, and had on black jeans and wallet chains that jangled as they swaggered their way over. Low rider pants showed the waist of their underwear. One wore a biker’s vest; the redhead wore a button down lumberjack shirt, unbuttoned, showing a lean tight muscled frame, similar to Race’s build.

The blond carried a switchblade, that he kept opening and closing with one hand, trying to be cool. The Redhead had an axe-handle with a nail driven through its end, sticking out about 2 or 3 inches.

“Lookie what we have here, boys, “ the alpha drawled in a southern drawl.

“Yeah.. look what we have here, maaahhhnn!” Red echoed with a maniacal grin, but sounded more like a surfer dude. He had a nervous tick,acting like he was hopped up on something. Blond seemed more chill, and sly, and both slouched and moved to either side of their leader.

Race sighed, and looked down, shaking his head. “Yeah.. it’s the backstreet boys, “ he said, rolling his eyes, “Just leave me alone guys. I don’t wanna do this right now.“

“Too bad, “ Alpha said with a smirk. “Cause we saw you counting the money in that wallet you put down your pants.“

“Yeah, too bad, “ Blond said in a soft snicker. “Give us the wallet, and maybe we let you out of this with just a bad limp. “ He twirled the switch blade open and closed, showing he’s practiced extensively, at least with that maneuver.

Alpha thumped the ball bat on the concrete and it rang, as aluminum will, and he raised it up and rested it on his shoulder. “Come on, slugger – you know what’s good for you. “

“Piss off, “ Race said, as he simple didn’t change his posture, though he could see that the red-head and the blond were eyeing his naked chest and tats, like they liked what they saw. He knew then and there he didn’t want to be taken by these boys.

Red leapt forward, swinging his axehandle, and made a whistling sound, raising the club over his head and bringing it down at Race’s skull. When the blow descended, Race had moved to the side and brought his booted foot down on Red’s forearm with a stomp, The bone shattered and the boy screamed. Next came Blond, and his knife was a blur, his cunning hand play swiping at Race’s back, aiming for the skull tattoo on his back, between the eyes. Race pivoted, grabbed Blond’s arm, and twisted it behind him in a blinding move, planting the boy’s face into the park bench, with a THUMP that made the wood resound. He slipped the knife out of the arm that seemed bent a little too far up, possibly dislocated at the elbow.

And that’s when Alpha started to circle Race. “Think you’re pretty tough, huh, bitch?” the bully said.

Race shrugged and sat back down on the bench on the back, twirling the switchblade like Blond had been, as he glanced up past his bangs, only his blue eye showing. “I told you, I just wanted to be left alone.”

“I’m gonna tump you good. You’re gonna be black and blue so your own mother won’t recognize you.“ Alpha sneered, edging towards the smaller boy.

Race didn’t move, but he narrowed his eyes, “If you want to talk about colors – you’ll be very red in a moment, if you don’t back off. Take your boys and go. I don’t want to hurt you.“

“What the hell you talkin’ about? “ Alpha said, as he swung the bat with a mighty whistling whump, that if it connected, it would take someone’s head off like a ripe melon.

*The trick is not to be there when the bat hits,* he thought to himself, as he slipped off the bench and casually walked a circle with the larger guy. Alpha grinned and made a surprisingly fast lunge for a boy of his size, and Race found himself backpedaling for a step, and that’s when he realized that Red was behind him to trip him over. He almost avoided the boy’s tripping food, but it caught the edge of his ankle and sent him spinning, and that’s when Alpha tried to come in at him. He rolled and rolled on the ground, avoiding blow after blow, until he came up against one of those damned old garbage bins, rod iron and black with shades of rusty spots, and old unemptied trash dangling down its side. It smelled rank, and he nearly wanted to vomit, as the ball-bat came down and clipped him in the ribs, sending sparks of pain through his side.

But the bat connected on the upswing with the trash can, and it rang like a bells, and Alpha’s hands went numb with the impact as he shouted in surprise and pain. Race pushed up off the ground and leapt for the boy, still holding the knife.

And then – something odd happened. Everything sort of – froze. The last rays of the sun had just vanished over the horizon during the conflict, and now, the stars seemed to be blossoming in the night sky.

The black clad figure was simply THERE. And Race could not move a muscle. He wanted to scream, but he could only manage that in his own head.

The figure was tall, over 6’6” and he wore what looked like black velvet pants and suit jacket, and a cravat of blue silk at his throat. A necklace i the shape of a pentacle with diamonds at the points sparkled in a platinum setting at his breast. He had pale skin, sharp, angular features, and wide, expressive purple eyes. His hair was long and billowed around him like a thick smoke might, but made of the silk of his mane. He was thin, but had the aura of immense strength that seemed to exude from him

Race’s blade was in contact with Alpha’s chest, and if it were left to go, it would likely pierce the boy’s major artery and heart.

“You know, Race, you are about to do something that cannot be taken back. I ask you if you want to do this or not. If you do, I’ll release you, and time will restart, and you can plunge that knife into his heart.”

Race felt his mouth suddenly able to move and gasped out, “What.. who are you? How can you do this? Is this some kind of trick? “ he said , his voice rising a little in his excitement.

“You can call me Death, if you’d like. Mortus, though is what I prefer. Now, what do you want to do? “

Race blinked – he could blink now, but his hand and position were otherwise frozen. He looked up at the haunting figure. THIS WAS DEATH?! So – the stories were true. It or he really existed.

“He was going to kill me for a wallet that isn’t even mine, “ Race said, trying to calm himself.

“Do you want him to pay with his life for making that judgement? “ Mortus asked, in a tone that almost sounded chiding and mixed with an amusement. “It is in your power to decide his fate – and if you want to kill his companions, as well, I won’t stop you either, if that is your choice. But choose you must. Choose now. Show me YOUR colors, young Race.

Race gulped and breathed out slow and soft. He wasn’t sure. All he had wanted was to be left alone. And now these 3 young man’s lives were his to decide? The thought of killing for the sake of killed seemed wrong to him. But he glared at Alpha, and saw in him a murderous rage. And somehow, he could see .. into him now. Alpha had done unspeakable things, to at least 30 people, and taken more than 12 other’s lives. He didn’t feel remorse or pity. And he’d left some broken in mind and body, never to know peace while they lived.

He glanced at Blond and Red, and saw that, while Blond was almost as bad as Alpha, Red wasn’t really so bad, as he’d been “indoctrinated” in a way that he followed the other two like a puppy.“If it were up to me, the Alpha guy here would pay for his crimes with his life, whether its my blade or some cops gun in the future, or a vengeful husband,  but he ruins lives and people. Blond boy is the same. But I’d spare Red, “ he said, after a few moments thought.

Alpha and Blond vanished, as did the weapons they carried, and Red was changed – into a more preppy, pretty boy, that looked more like a college skater dude. And then he vanished.

“So their fates have been changed, as has yours. Your last choice, Race, is to decide if you want to become my apprentice – your talents are wasted on the streets and petty survival, but your instincts are good. Join me.. And you and I can make a difference in this world. “

Race paused and he could move now, freely, and he hugged his arms around himself. “But.. I’ve got a life that hasn’t unfolded yet.. What would I do with you ? Go around killing people by telling you I don’t like how they lived? Is that really what you do? Judge and execute people?” he sounded accusatory, and a bit pissed, since his own words had resulted in such terrible changes for 2 men.

“It is not that simple, and there are rules that even I must follow, but eternity is difficult, and for a time, you may apprentice with me. If you chose not to want to continue, say the word, and I will return you to your so-called-life. And if you want to stay, then I will show you the stars, and colors you never imagined will open before your eyes. But I will leave you for 24 hours, and return tomorrow night at sunset, and you can tell me your answer. Farewell, until then. “

And suddenly, Mortus was gone, and the night sky was shimmering above him.

Race sat down on the park bench, twirling the knife and was thinking, wondering what his colors really were. “Show me your colors, he says, “ he muttered to himself, looking up at the night sky. Black and silver were predominant, but twilight still held some sway, and there were subtle shades of blue and green and gray. He saw there were colors there of a universe yet unfolding before him. He smiled, as he knew what his answer must be.

~Dehrynn Shepherd 

Body:
Mesh- TMP Deluxe Body (Store)
Hair- .EMBW. Faelwne Hair (Store)

Outfit:
Pants/Suspenders- ::GB::stripe susupender pants with wallet (TMD)
Boots- [ hoorenbeek ] Mesh Military Boots (Store)
Necklace- MINIMAL – Night Necklace (Store)
Knife- BUENO-Butterfly Knife (Store)
Cigar- [NikotiN] Classic Cigar – Nextgen (Store)

Tattoos:
.Reckless. – Port (TMD)

Extras:
Bench- 8f8 – La Petite Joie Cafe – Bench (Store)

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