His name was Noir, or that’s what he went by. A pretty and hungry looking young man, pale and driven, with a talent for music and making people feel his inner ghost. He was dressed all in black, his long white hair and pale skin in contrast to his attire. Chains and fingerclaws decorated wrist and hands, and a delicate choker necklace accented his inviting neck. His cheekbones were sharp and his features delicate.
He wore his jacket open, revealing his lean chest, and the tattoos of intricate and old world design. His eyes were a golden color that were not of this world – most people assumed they were vanity contacts. He liked it when people stared at them, and tried to decide if they were real or not. They looked like snake-irises. His lips were accented with red lipstick and snakebite piercings.
His hair was lush, thick, and pale, accented with a dark red flower on the left side. The pale locks swept across his face, hiding his eyes when he wanted. His black leather boots that made definite sounds as he stalked down the Boardwalk. He carried his cello with him, wherever he traveled. Tonight there was a storm coming here, and he would play to its power. The primal nature of the storm would inspire his playing, and it would be like nature was playing counterpoint.
He made it under the awning of the tiny performance hall just as the power of the storm was felt at the shore. He opened the cello case and drew out the instrument, running his fingertips over it lovingly. He set it up on one of the deck chairs, as he prepared, positioning himself so he could cradle the instrument and play it as it was meant to be played. He was rather deft and able to handle his instrument with the affected claws, and had learned to use them to elicit some interesting sounds from the cello. He glanced around, seeing who else was in the little hall.
Two boys were in audience, along with an older man in his early 30s. One boy was dressed in white and pink, and looked rather pretty – Joshua was his name. The other was dressed in a black and blue wetsuit – a definite surfer boy with long blond locks – Jaddua. Both were regulars at the Pier and the concerts that got played here. They were sipping drinks and watching with interest, while the older man, dressed in black, tight leather pants, and a blue billowy poet’s shirt, and was reading a somber-colored paperback novel of some sort.
But he, too, was looking up and taking an interest. He had skyblue eyes and a long lustrous mane of black hair, and he wore what looked like a pentacle necklace on his chest. His boots were an riding boot like from a horse show, polished to a shine, and came up to his knees. A long black shiny leather coat was folded over a chair beside him.
The small group was intent on the start of the performance, as lightning thundered and flashed the distance. The wind picked up, and then Noir began his performance. He waved his cello bow in the air, like he were weaving a magic run or symbol from his mind into the air. Then he set the bow to the strings, and the magic started to happen.
It started out low, and soft, like a slow building of a sadness, welling up out of a tender place. And then it slowly built up, to that of a moaning lament, as if something was lost and never to be found again. Then there was anger and rage at the loss, as the wind built and the lightning became that much more threatening. The power went out on the Pier, and still, Noir kept on playing, his Cello filling the little performance hall with its sound, larger than life and twice as vast.
He kept playing, as the anger and rage showed on his face, and his clawed hands started doing things to the cello that made it sound even more angry or alien and strange but melodic and powerful at the same time. It made one wonder what horrible tortures were being lamented here.
Then, there was a sadness that came with the playing, a profound and all encompassing sadness. The storm had seemed to spend itself and now it was just raining. Fog was starting to roll in from the ocean, and it was thick and clinging and chill.
As the cellist finished up, his last notes were not that of terrible tragedy and loss, but of a hope that was springing from dark places, where the light seldom shines. The performance came to an end, and the last long somber note of the cello was allowed to vibrate out to its conclusion.
There was near silence, save for the nearby pounding of the surf and soft patter of rain outside. Then older man started to clap faster and louder, and then the others followed suit. Noir looked up and frowned. “There is no need to applaud! “ he said, in a soft, husky voice.
The older man approached and laid a hand on Noir’s shoulder. “A wonderful performance, Noir. I would call it genius but you’d think it was a line. You should get yourself a manager.“ His words were sincere, but there was something about how he said it that bothered Noir.
Jaddua and Joshua both stood and came over and congratulated Noir as well, distracting him, making him frown, before they each grabbed an umbrella from the rack and went out into the soft rain, making their way up the boardwalk.
“There is no need to .. congratulate me for what I just did!” Noir said, softly to their backs, clearly distressed. He growled and grabbed at his cello case, opened the black-leather leather-covered case, and inside the lid were stickers from various cities.
“Someone gets around,” the black-maned man said with an appreciative whistle. He leaned against the back wall, one leg crossed over the other, as he watched the musician.
“What’s that supposed to mean, and who the hell are you?” Noir shot back with a glare, as he settled his cello into the cello-shaped case, his serpent like eyes glittering.
“You may call me Adam Darkmoon,” The tall man said. Noir frowned when he heard the name, like it didn’t mean anything to him, but it should. “Ahhh let’s hear what the boys have to say. “
Noir opened his mouth to say something rather cutting, when two boys came back in, wet feet shuffling on wet boardwalk. Jaddua was fast-limping, trying not to put weight on his left foot, and was supported with an arm over Joshua’s shoulder. They made it to a chair, and the surfer boy plopped his athletic body down on it.
“Its like a hurricane hit out there.. Or a tidal wave,” Jaddua said with a grunt, as he lifted his injured foot up and Joshua took hold of it gently. He nodded, “You have a splinter stuck in there, alright. I can pull it out, but it’ll probably hurt.. Maybe bleed.“
Darkmoon gave Noir a knowing look. “Strange that something happened out there, and we didn’t notice a thing.” He turned and arched a brow Jaddua grunted loudly, as Joshua yanked the splinter out of his friend’s foot. It didn’t bleed, Jaddua was able to put his weight on the foot, but it still hurt.
Joshua handed the splinter to Jaddua, and shrugged. “It’s probably be bruised, but you’d better keep it clean and have a doc check it out, if it starts turning .. you know.. gangrene or something.“
“Boys, how bad is it out there? You said it was like a tidal wave hit?” Darkmoon asked, then glanced back over at the scowling Noir, who crossed his arms over his exposed chest.
“Umm dude.. It’s like a tidal wave hit, yeah. The Pier is half-sunk, the boardwalk is smashed up, and there’s debris everywhere. And up around the parking area is flooded! There’s emergency vehicles all over the place down towards the Pier entrance. But.. something weird happened. “
“Oh? It’s not weird already that there was a tidal wave?” Darkmoon’s voice held interest and sarcasm, but not directed at the boy’s description, but at the irony of the situation.
“Yeah! I mean, I’ve been around the ocean my whole life, and never missed it when the waves were hitting hard, but damn, we didn’t hear a tidal wave? The really messed up part of it is that.. Everything.. The beach shops, the little mall, the Pier, the boardwalk – everything is totally torn to bits, except right here. It’s like.. like.. “
“Like there was a bubble around this little amphitheater,” Joshua finished for his friend. “Something protected it. If I weren’t agnostic, I’d think angels were responsible.”
Darkmoon swiveled his gaze to Noir, and arched his brow, even higher this time. “My, that is strange, isn’t it, Mr Noir? Angels must come in all shapes and sizes, then, eh?”
“It is strange, yes, “ Noir said, as he held himself still, his lips pursed in a tight little smile, almost smugly. “It all happened while I was playing, and we didn’t hear a thing. Must have been a cosmic freak miracle, right? “
Noir raised his cello bow, and waved it back and forth like it were a magic wand, and said in a soft sing-song voice, “There must have been some magic, in that old cello that he found.. For when he played it for the dead, the waves began to dance around.”
“Hey man, that’s not funny!“ Jaddua barked, frowning. The young man seldom let anything get to him, but this was obviously messing with his ‘free spirit’ vibe.
Noir shrugged, “You three weren’t hurt.. So count your blessings. We were in the eye of a storm, maybe. Or something like it, it seems.”
Darkmoon sauntered over to Noir again, slipping on his leather coat as he did so. “I think you and I should have a little talk in private, my friend. You see, I’ve been tracking you for some time. This isn’t first time something ‘miraculous’ has happened, when you were in the area.”
Noir put the cello bow against Darkmoon’s chest and pushed him back a step, “I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere with you. You and your ‘master’ are not going to collect me, like you the others.”
“That’s the thing,” Darkmoon said, his face serious. “We didn’t collect them. Your rivals eliminated them. That’s why I’m here. You’re in danger.”
Noir focused his strange eyes on the dark-maned stranger, and shook his head, the white locks swishing against his jacket collar and lapels. “I.. I don’t believe you.“
The sound of helicopter blades were suddenly rather noticeable, and Darkmoon moved around Noir to glance around outside the shelter at the night sky. Three military style helicopters were fast approaching. “I think we’d better make a hasty exit. I know the look of those… “ Darkmoon turned around, and found that Noir was gone. There was no other way out of the little shelter, than in front of him, but the boy was gone.
“How the hell, “ Jaddua said, as he gaped at the spot where Noir had been a moment ago.
Darkmoon frowned and looked at first Jaddua, and then Joshua. “What did you see, boys? “
Joshua turned to Jaddua, and then to Darkmoon. “He just vanished. He gave you the finger, waved that bow in the air, in a big circle, and just vanished.“
Darkmoon sighed, and shook his head, then strode purposefully over to the boys. “Well, unless you want to be questioned by the acquisition team that’s posing as government thugs, I suggest we all get out of here, before those choppers land. Are you coming with me?“
Jaddua and Joshua looked confused, but they didn’t like the sound of that any more than Noir must have. They both stood, and nodded.
Darkmoon slipped his hand into his pocket, pulled out a small square metal pill box, and tossed it onto the floor. The lid popped open, and a light radiated upwards in a cone shape. In the radiance of this light, a swirling gateway formed -a glowing whirlpool- in mid air. It was about 2 meters tall and a meter wide above the little box, and it showed what seemed a concrete parking garage on the other side. “Come on.. You boys first. I’ll follow. “
Bizarre seemed the sanity of the night, so the two boys both stepped through, with only a slight hesitation. As they did, and they appeared to be in the parking garage on the other side.
Darkmoon dropped a black marble with a swirl pattern inside it on the ground. Then he leapt through the portal and it vanished a moment later. The marble slowly rolled to a stop, and a moment later, suddenly erupted into what seemed like ocean water that blasted out from the insides of the shelter. The little structure was flattened or washed away, as if a tidal wave had struck it.
In the parking garage, Darkmoon put a hand on each of the boy’s shoulders and said, “Ok boys, here’s where you get to make a choice. If you want to know more, I’ll tell you. Otherwise, I’m sending you home, and you won’t remember a thing. So what will it be?”
Joshua shook his head, and said in an irritated voice, “What is this, the Matrix? You got a redpill-bluepill thing for us? “
“That’s pretty close to the mark, Josh. Now, answer up.. Right now.. Are you in, or are you out?”
Jaddua and Joshua looked at one another and they seemed to reach a silent accord. “Red Pill.. Tell us what the hell is going on, dude.” Jaddua said.
And so Adam Darkmoon did.
Things haven’t been quite the same for the boys since.
But that is for another tale.
Story by: Dehrynn Shepherd
Jacket- ::GB::Strap leather jacket (TMD)
Pants/Shoes & Choker- ::GB::Leather pants in boots & Plate Chain Necklace (Store)
Gloves- ::GB::Metallic Long nail gloves (We ❤ RP)
Flower- Le Morte – Lily Hairpin (The Arcade)
Cello- Bauhaus Movement – Apocalyptica Cello PROP (TLC)
Lipstick- Zibska ~ Folia Lips (We ❤ RP)
[White~Widow] Wonder (TLC)