The Bleak Streets of Twokinds: A Twokinds Forum Noir Story

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Re: The Bleak Streets of Twokinds: A Twokinds Forum Noir Sto

#391 Post by Nuff »

Why is everyone all about the bribing? When do we get to start threatening him? I wanna threaten somethiiiiiiiiiiing.... *whines*

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Re: The Bleak Streets of Twokinds: A Twokinds Forum Noir Sto

#392 Post by Alleycat »

Damn't, I thought there was a new update :-<
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Re: The Bleak Streets of Twokinds: A Twokinds Forum Noir Sto

#393 Post by avwolf »

I hate posting in here without posting a new chapter, but I wanted to assure you all that I am still working on it. I've been spending every evening this week doing writing, but I can't seem to get the rhythm and flow right for more than few sentences an hour, so it's been slow going. The bits and pieces are coming together, and I hope to have something to post later this week or early next. I've kept Sithil waiting a long time for this, so I want to make sure it'll live up to expectations. :P
Kaptain wrote:Ehhhh-dit: What exactly does "noir" mean? I could probably guess but I'd rather have someone explain it and I look like a noob (look like? I am!) than make a guess and be totally wrong. Looked it up in the dictionary and it said something about black and roulette :/ Something tells me that's wrong.
Reading back over this thread, I noticed this question that wasn't addressed the many months ago it was asked. "Noir" is the French word for "black." As applied to literary and cinematic works, it usually refers to dark, gritty crime thrillers. Noir, as a genre, tends to feature complex characters, few of whom are really "black and white." Most characters exist as a shade of grey, with sordid pasts and far from pure intentions. Institutions are corrupt, and true villains hold a lot of power in the society. The worlds of noir fiction are violent and brutal places, full of exploitation and abuse. Everybody carries weapons, smokes, and drinks. Nobody's safe, and nobody can be fully trusted. It's one of those things, like pornography, that's hard to define, but you know it when you see it.
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Re: The Bleak Streets of Twokinds: A Twokinds Forum Noir Sto

#394 Post by Windwaker »

Heh, Mr. Dresden fits those parameters more closely than I expected.
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Re: The Bleak Streets of Twokinds: A Twokinds Forum Noir Sto

#395 Post by Lordlyhour »

Randomness removed. ~Jedi
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Re: The Bleak Streets of Twokinds: A Twokinds Forum Noir Sto

#396 Post by Sithil »

LordlyHour, thou shalt now be twice fold reprimanded!

Firstly, for the act of posting in the completely wrong thread, in fact, even on the completely wrong board!

Secondly, for the heinous crime of fooling me into believing that avwolf had now published the next instalment!

Shame on you.
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Re: The Bleak Streets of Twokinds: A Twokinds Forum Noir Sto

#397 Post by Geo_&_Bio »

These are cool, so far I am on chapter 4 and I am loving them. I thought the Bleak Streets of Twokinds on your sig was only joke of some kind, I didn't know there was also a cool story with it.
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Re: The Bleak Streets of Twokinds: A Twokinds Forum Noir Sto

#398 Post by Lordlyhour »

whoa, did i post in the wrong place? sorry. I've been far too sleepdeprived lately
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Re: The Bleak Streets of Twokinds: A Twokinds Forum Noir Sto

#399 Post by avwolf »

Sithil Darmenia. "Pain's Shadow," they call him. He's an openly sadistic violence broker, cold-blooded and hard, but...civilized, in his own way. Kind of like Hannibal Lector, only with less eating people and more breaking their limbs. And then laughing about it. The "shadow" bit of the nickname is because he and his like-minded followers are lurkers, preferring to keep to the darkness and the edges of society, where they'll attract less attention. Sithil loves violence of any kind, well, except for violence to his person, but he takes particular pleasure from violence on "the deserving." I'm not sure what Sable'd have done that'd make him "deserving," as Sithil prefers to take out his aggression on "scum" who can't speak with clarity or act with etiquette, so maybe Sithil didn't take out the hit himself. Regardless, violence in the city is violence Sithil knows about, so there's a good chance he'll know who did call in the triggerman. And maybe he'll know whose goons thought they'd get the better of me in the Newbie District.

As he likes to stay out of the limelight and on the move, Sithil can be a hard man to track down. But if you know his haunts, it's not too hard to get lucky. Sithil and I are on...reasonable terms, ever since he learned that I'm a supporter of letting the wicked suffer. He knows I'm on my way and refusing to meet with me would be an obvious suggestion of guilt, so he'll almost certainly make himself available somewhere that won't be too tough to find. Besides, going to ground would be rude, and Sithil is never rude. He might be a murderous madman, but his devotion to decorum has always been admirable. Windwaker will likely be safe around Sithil, thanks to the auspices of hospitality, even if I'm walking into a potentially volatile situation. I don't know his history with Sithil, but last I knew, Sithil didn't bother holding grudges.

The thread is old and well-worn. The brass on the door handle has long been in need of polishing, and the kick plate is scuffed from hundreds and hundreds of footsteps through the door. But the windows are all polished to a gleaming shine and the lettering on the signboard is clean and crisp. "Rant/Vent/Sad." If there's one place Sithil's likely to be, it's here, soaking up the suffering and anger of others. I open the door, and Windwaker and I head inside. Stale smoke, latent rage, and enduring depression are thick enough in here to taste on your tongue. The common room is quite sizable, with a beat-poetry style stage set up on one wall and an exquisitely-stocked bar on another. Not far from the stage is a mirrored wall, I guess to encourage self-reflection. I don't remember the mirrors from the last time I was here; they must be a new addition. A young man is up on stage, part-way into a story of teenage angst. The crowd murmurs sympathetic noises at appropriate intervals. It seems like the people watching are mostly young too; young enough to still understand having one's parents be the greatest source of frustration in one's life. Most folks my age prefer a little more private venue to cry into our beers, and have a little more, or at least a little different, variety to our problems.

I don't see Sithil seated anywhere. I expected to spot him in a dark corner within sight of the stage. I start to get a sick feeling in my stomach. I don't really have time to waste trying to guess where Sithil might be. My eyes sweep the room one more time. Windwaker elbows me gently in the ribs. He nods his head toward a shadow near the bar. I cast my eyes over in that direction, and the shadow resolves into an average-height, brown-haired man. He's human, baggy clothing disguising his thin limbs, and a thick beard concealing his face.

It takes me a tick to place him. He's a lurker, but he sometimes turns up around the comic club. "Valbrandur," I say softly, addressing the figure. I think he's become Sithil's right hand. Grapevine says that he's got some darker tastes, which suits Sithil's company just fine, and that he's proven reliable, intelligent, and effective. And, probably more importantly, he's subtle. Most of Sithil's minions are like kittens. They mean well, but they're kind of bumbling, and their safety depends more on the fact that people find them adorable, after a fashion, than their actual capabilities. Men and women like Valbrandur, however...They're the jungle cats to the kittens. Silent, invisible, and efficient.

"Avwolf," Valbrandur murmurs, loud enough for me to hear, but not so that anyone would be distracted from the teenager on the stage finishing his rant. One of his strengths as a lurker is his voice. It's quiet and always familiar, letting him effortlessly blend in and out of the crowd. "A pleasure as always. I was starting to get worried that you wouldn't notice me, and I'd have to do something drastic." He allows himself a chuckle, which I return with a grin.

"My old eyes aren't what they used to be. 'S why I brought a younger pair. He's a lot better at seeing in the dark than I am."

"Of course," Valbrandur says with a smile, his little, pointed teeth pressed into his lip, "Please, follow me." He leads us toward a hallway between the bar and the stage's common room. There's a bunch of small rooms off of this hallway, little private suites for consultation with actual psychiatric semi-professionals, or at least more private airing of grievances than the stage. The first door on the stage side is marked with an "Authorized Persons Only" sign, unlike the other doors down the hall. Funny, I don't remember a broom closet here.

Valbrandur stops in front of this door, and knocks softly, once. He opens the door with professional grace and directs us inside. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. The room is certainly no broom closet: it's actually luxuriously appointed with a walnut table and wainscoting, and plush, calfskin chairs and benches. Not only can I hear the final words from the individual on the stage clearly, I can see him too -- Those weren't mirrors I saw in the common room, they were panes of one-way glass which afford the occupants of this room an unobstructed view of the stage. The young man on stage stands and prepares to leave the stage. With the show over, the man inside the little room turns toward us. He brushes a speck of dust from his silk poet shirt, and stands to greet us, smiling politely. A cocktail glass in his hand, filled with some kind of vibrant orange, bubbly drink and a slice of mandarin orange on a toothpick, contrasts with the dark navy of Sithil's suit. Sithil'd dressed up to see me. Good: that means he wants to talk.

"Sithil," I say, nodding to him in greeting, "Nice little place you have here."

"Good afternoon, Avwolf, I apologize for the ceremony, but I have found it necessary to take more precautions in recent times than I would prefer. Hence the construction of this little sanctum sanctorum." He makes a sweeping gesture to encompass the room. "I heard about your altercation with several exceptionally foolish individuals last night. My only regret," he says, his smile turning wolfish, "Is that you were so quick and easy on them. They'll never learn unless the lesson lasts." Windwaker looks up at me quizzically, his expression making it clear that he intended to get the whole story soon. Apparently my adventures aren't known by everyone the instant I have them. Windwaker will just have to wait for his curiosity to be fulfilled, however. I answer Sithil with a wry grin.

"I let my impatience get the better of me, I'll admit. You wouldn't happen to know who they were working for, would you? I didn't think to ask before I rendered them speechless."

"Some care was taken to hide their employer's identity. I'm afraid I can't tell you under whose auspices they were operating. Though I am shocked that anyone would attack you openly, even through such a proxy."

"I overheard a bit of a conversation between them and a middleman. I have the distinct feeling they weren't exactly operating under orders when they took a shot at me." I shake my head and roll my eyes slightly in disdain. "That's not actually why I'm here, though."

"Oh?" A flicker of intense interest flitted across Sithil's face. "Is this about the wolf you've left with Wynni? The Luigiian? I haven't seen so much fire thrown around by out-of-towners since the last time FastChapter had a brawl with...what-was-his-name, from Irc."

"Possibly." I tilt my head noncommittally. "I suspect it's related, but it doesn't directly involve Lupe." I narrow my eyes and put just a hint of accusation in my tone, "No, I want to know who ordered the hit on Sable Dove."

The look of confusion on Sithil's face is genuine. "I'm sure there wasn't a hit ordered on Sable. I'd have heard about something that big. One does not take on a name like Sable's without some kind of noise. It must have been some kind of personal matter, or something of that sort. I'm honestly somewhat offended that someone would take a shot at hir and not let me know. I'd have enjoyed watching it at the least."

"What if you're lying to me, Sithil? Maybe you called that one in. You broker violence with a smile."

"What reason would I have to go after Sable, Avwolf? I assure you, I was neither broker nor solicitor of any violence on Sable Dove. If there's anything I can tell you to help you find the responsible party, my network is yours. But there was no job taken out on Sable, I'm sure of it."

I suck my teeth, considering Sithil carefully. "Alright, well, I've found evidence that suggests the Laughing Cat are in town. One was the triggerman, tried to pop Sable with a rifleshot from across the street."

"The Laughing Cat? Are you certain?" Sithil slumps down into his calfskin chair. "Those maniacs have no respect for decorum." He swirls his beverage around in his glass and takes a sip before continuing, "I know that some heavy contractors are in town. They're pulling orders from a drop in Drawing Board, in the back, behind one of the Couches." He says the word with distinct distaste. The Couches were a well-known series of yiff works by a local master. They're in the middle of Drawing Board, just hard enough to get to to dissuade causal visitors, but not so difficult that most people didn't know of them or how to find them. Sithil wasn't really an asexual, not any more, but he still found such overt sexuality to be unbecoming. "None of the orders that I've heard of involved Sable, but that's the place to start. If you check there, you might find more. I will keep an eye out myself."

"Thanks, Sithil. I appreciate anything you can do. I am not a fan of troublemakers in my forum."

"In that, are both in complete agreement." Sithil and I nod at one another and I turn to leave.

"So," Windwaker's voice pipes up, "It's true that you operate a clandestine network of spies, lurkers, and assassins?" Sithil sighs.

"What's true is that I and individuals of similar mind try to keep watch for potential trouble, and ideally head it off before a moderator needs get involved. An orderly and polite forum benefits us all. It is also true that neither I nor any of my associates care to have our business spread through the city in the local headlines, so I am afraid I will have to decline an interview. Valbrandur?" I'm pretty sure I couldn't imagine a more obvious "please go away now" without involving a neon sign. I hold the door for Windwaker and we both exit back into the bar.

"Is Drawing Board our next stop?" Windwaker watches me expectantly. "And what's this about you getting into a fight last night?"

"I don't know what the next stop's going to be yet. Something doesn't add up here. Sithil should have known more than this. You don't call in a major hit like one on Sable without Sithil having heard about it ahead of time. But I didn't smell a lie in his reactions. I am apparently the first person to tell him that Sable got shot. It just doesn't make a damn lick of sense." I brood for a few seconds before the pressure from Windwaker's gaze becomes unbearable. "What?"

"The fight?" he prompts. I roll my eyes.

"A bunch of newbies hit me in the face with a shovel. I blacked out. When I came to, I had words with them. Violent words. Spoken by my fists and firearm."

"Wait, wait, wait. They hit you with a shovel?"

"Yes," I sigh.

"Again?"

"Yes." Windwaker couldn't completely choke his tittering laughter.

"Av, please don't go to Drawing Board without me. This story's just too great. I mean, how often do I get to report on a city-wide conspiracy? Think of all the possibilities!"

"The only thing I've been thinking of is how much of a headache the possibilities have been giving me," I groan. I slouch onto one of the stools, and toss my hat onto the bar with an idle flick of my wrist. Windwaker slips onto the stool beside me, still intent on following me around until he "gets to the bottom of this." Jinkeez, Scoob, I don't think it's going to be Old Man Miller in a rubber suit this time. People are going to get dead, and if I can't solve this in a hurry, I might be one of them. What's worse, is if I can't find a way to get Windwaker out of the line of fire, he's definitely going to end up in that column.

I order a God's Blessing, but the bartender tells me that they don't have the coffee machine turned on at this time of day. Damn. "I guess I'll make do with the Three Wise Men." Maybe Jack, Jim, and Jose have some wisdom left for me. The bartender thunks a shotglass on the table, and I reply with a few crumpled bills. Windwaker orders a seltzer with a splash of tonic and a twist of lemon and a Faygo chaser.

“Why isn't the Captain one of the Three Wise Men?”

“Because he's one of the Four Horsemen.”

“Why didn't you order that then?”

“Because it tastes awful.” I pointedly turn away from him to end the conversation. While I kick the shot back, I allow myself to ruminate. This conversation with Sithil was a dead end. I figured the hit on Sable was also a message, one directly to me. If it was never really a hit, that just leaves the message. But what kind of message would you deliver with a bullet but not a kill? The usual, "watch your step, flatfoot," would have needed more conviction than that. Maiming a man's friends is less likely to frighten than it is to infuriate. ...Maybe it was "look over here..." Of course! Why didn't I realize it before? The Laughing Cat are known for two things: killing and shine. The Laughing Cat hitter on Sable didn't miss the kill-shot. The trigger man wasn't aiming for a kill-shot. "Diversion..." I mumble, like a crazy person, "A diversion. [censored]." It was a con, and they hooked me hard. If they'd already made their move on Lupe, it was probably too late. I hate being wrong. "It was a goddamn Kansas City Shuffle," I shout, snatching up my hat and rushing to the door.
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Re: The Bleak Streets of Twokinds: A Twokinds Forum Noir Sto

#400 Post by Nuff »

AH it's good to read more of this. Avwolf being bluffed? Oh dear, we thought you wiser than that old chap. Also, your depiction of the Rant thread was spot on. Gave me a big smug smile it did

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Re: The Bleak Streets of Twokinds: A Twokinds Forum Noir Sto

#401 Post by JediGuy »

Well, I suppose I have no more reason to be lazy about Twisted Reality, eh Av? :P Joking aside Not really, I need to get on that, it was a great anticipated chapter, and a nice, lengthy read to boot. I'll admit, I didn't think of the "twist," until you said it, so that's a good sign on your ability to tell the tale.

Looks like I may be doing a bit more live-fire-training with that rifle, though. :wink:
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Re: The Bleak Streets of Twokinds: A Twokinds Forum Noir Sto

#402 Post by Wynni »

OOoh, Someone gonna cause trouble at my place? :twisted: Go ahead, mess with my babies. I dare you *double shot gun pump"

Did I mention the Spoon is a custom job? :P
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Re: The Bleak Streets of Twokinds: A Twokinds Forum Noir Sto

#403 Post by Lordlyhour »

Masterful, as always.
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Re: The Bleak Streets of Twokinds: A Twokinds Forum Noir Sto

#404 Post by Schrodinger »

Who would have thought that a shovel to the face would be the great Avwolf's kryptonite?
What was it the spider said to the fly...

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Re: The Bleak Streets of Twokinds: A Twokinds Forum Noir Sto

#405 Post by Insomniac »

A superb chapter as always, but with one little problem. A Kansas City Shuffle is where the scam counts on the mark knowing there's a scam but being wrong about what the scam is, thus 'they think you think they don't know'. Whereas this is just a diversion. Still, an awesome chapter, and I can't wait to see the next one.

Unrelated, I had an idea...I was thinking we could somehow turn upcomin chapters into an ARG of sorts, somehow, just entirely on the forum...
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