The Exile's Return (Edwin, CLOSED)

Some one-thousand years into the future, Feila is now ruled by pop-crazy teenagers, computer nerds, and gun-wielding gangsters. This period is most like our present day Earth, specifically the 2000's, with the Internet, MP3 players, and towering skyscrapers. All natives are furry (Skin Avian are present here too). No native humans.
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Re: The Exile's Return (Edwin, CLOSED)

Post by Artashir »

The recovering amnesia-plagued lion looked at his comrades with that characteristic feline silence, his eyes starting to gleam in the dark but that light faded back to the simple shine of life that Midas so graciously safeguarded from the revealing betrayal. Listening to the Spike’s musings about an individual named Turnpike, and Fritz’s comment, Art assumes this Turnpike-and close friend of the hyena from her lamenting attitude-isn’t quite aligned with the law.

In clear thought on this, his mind scratched and projected images of someone. At first, he thought he was seeing himself, but on deeper focus realized it certainly wasn’t. This near clone of himself was about as tall, but more lean and…rugged. Certainly looked more like a member of the lower class-not of the honorable type either-and his amber eyes glared through the shadows of Art’s mind-or some dark memory-like a dragon in its lair.

Shaking his head, the lion rubbed his face and unknowingly yawned in his own sudden fatigue. “Night.” He mumbled to the fox as he left for bed. Then he looked at Spike with a soft gleam of affection. Despite himself, he enjoyed the hyena’s company; a simple and well-kept woman with a noble heart. In this time and age; people were more materialistic and uncaring to the events around them, rarely moved to help those in need. Art immediately imagined the multitude of vehicles that possibly passed his unconscious body, even if some may have noticed him. Twitching the corner of his scarred lip in anger, the lion felt his head ache from recovering memories and the phantom of his previous heat pains.

Art, feeling as if a hundred eyes were on him suddenly, acted as if he was completely fine and simply rubbed a paw over his mane before speaking finally with a low unintentional mumble, “Perhaps we should…ask for Turnpike sometime. Perhaps tomorrow, when we are well-rested and mobile.”
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Re: The Exile's Return (Edwin, CLOSED)

Post by Larcen »

For once, and to Spike's dismay, Fritz had a valid point. She nibbled on one of her claws, her heart coming forth to show all over her face, and what her heart was feeling was both love and fear. "Yeah...'night, Fritz." She was too worried to even call him by nickname. Nevertheless, somehow the face Artashir was showing her warmed the fears with trust.

"Well, before you go saying that we need him on board," she said, ears flat, "Firejanks is kinda right. Only reason I thought to bring him in was 'cuz he's got experience in dealing with bad furs, y'know? For a long time, he was like..." Spike trailed off and whimpered. People in this lion's position, it was hard to know if they'd report information to the police or not. The trust said he wouldn't, but fear for her beloved held her back. But it was Roberta Lee's style to charge on through and body-check fear out of the way. "Ok, he used to be a crime boss. Well, not boss, but like, second-ish. An' he was good, but he got set up and spent 10 years in jail. Still doesn't get stuff like texting and cell phones and hybrids and stuff, but he's paid his debt. He's out of it, clean. And I make sure he stays clean," she said with a threatening growl, looking away from the lion.

Miles away, Turnpike LaTrans woke up in his house in the middle of nowhere, ears burning and with a slight chill, somehow thinking of his girlfriend and uneasy at the same time. He had with the sudden inkling that he should be on his best behavior. The coyote shook off, poured a scotch, and went back to sleep.

Roberta went on, "I just figured that maybe he could help us, but I'm half afraid we'd wake up something in him and he'd..." she ran a paw down the length of her mane. "Nah, he'd be great, I'm sure of it. Never mind. I'll go talk to him tomorrow morning. He still doesn't have a cell, 'cuz he's all paranoid and stuff," she said with an affectionate smirk. "Anyway, g'nite, Mane 'n' Tail; we'll get everything sorted out." Spike rubbed Artashir's shoulder, looked around the house, and decided to screw with Fritz by sleeping next to him tonight. Not to mention she would be spending the night in a creepy old house; that had nothing to do with it. She climbed the stairs, watching out for the loose ones, and quietly crept into bed right beside the already sleeping fennec. The last thought she had before drifting off was whether or not to strip down and really scare him by making it look like something had happened between them during the night. Tired as she was, there wasn't time to even make the decision before the Sand Crab overtook her.
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Re: The Exile's Return (Edwin, CLOSED)

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Fritz slept fitfully that night, images of Renee traveling through his mind and the thought of something happening to her made him toss and turn a little in his sleep. Eventually he settled and didn't move. In the morning, he woke and found his arm wrapped around someone. He thought it might've been Renee, or a pillow, but it was far too big and squishy. He poked and pinched it, then his eyes opened wide to his bed mate. His immediate reaction was to fall out of bed with the blanket around him. What was she THINKING?! Did something happen last night? No, wait, he reasoned, she did it to screw with him. He decided to play along, "Wow Spike, you were really something else last night." He wrapped the blanket around himself and stood up so it looked like he wasn't wearing anything even though he did have his boxers on. His tail wagged at the idea of her plan backfiring.
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Re: The Exile's Return (Edwin, CLOSED)

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Art looked at the dismayed she-hyena in her distraught appearance in the mental battle of street and common senses with the romantic urges of bringing a loved one to her trouble. Listening to the summary of this Turnpike's criminal past, the lion didn't seem at the very least disturbed, almost like they were conversing about someone in a 'normal' job as a mailman or police officer (the irony of that thought). Actually, the lion thought Turnpike sounded like a decent man in comparison to some of his fragmented memory. The disdain of modern technology reminded him of a familiar face, looked like him but lighter fur and white in his mane.

The lion tilted his head some at the last part of Spike's words, wondering if she was using the power of female psychic links or just talking from the back of her mind. Even with his memories, the lion certainly had a different taking to women than males. Scratching his head abit at the complexity before quickly returning attention to Spike.

"Ok, Spike. Have a good night's rest." Art said with a clearing of his voice, looking at the rubbing paw on his broad shoulder, and smiled gently. Watching the well-built woman leave, the lion casually looked around with a soft sigh and sat down somewhere. Closing his eyes, Art meditated. His dull aches lessened and relaxed while he tried piecing more memories...

*
"And this conclude this month's reports." The President said, the well-aged Panther said with his bronze eyes looking at his cabinet and supporters. Artashir slowly got up from his own chair with his tail keeping it from rolling away, muscles flexing and joints popping from the long hours of sitting down with few recesses. "Viscount Patius...a moment please." A voice requested. Turning his maned head and looked past the departing Edwinus folk, once dominantly felines, but in this time and era was mingled with canines, rodents and birds, amongst other species. The voice belonged to a amur leopard with a natural scowl and keen blue eyes.

Taking few steps towards the leopard, the much larger lion looked at the Secretary of Defense with respect, being a former soldier and diplomat overseas to the rival countries. The leopard done the same and the two shook hands firmly, "How's your day sir...besides the long meeting?" The Viscount asked, looking the blue eyes with his own piercing dual-hued eyes. "It goes fine, can't wait for the bloody skirmishes in Kahun stop, but the King needs some help." The leopard chuckled.

"Thank goodness for old friendships and the Rogues, eh?" Art questioned with a slight chuckle of his own. The leopard smiled more to that and pat the lion's muscled arm, "Very true...but that is not what I wanted to talk about." The leopard said before jerking his head to the side, signaling a private walk. Nodding, the two felines walked.

While Art moved with erect power and pride on his powerful legs, the war-torn leopard walked with a slight limp yet held himself with experience and hard-earned wisdom, something that the lion didn't gain quite yet in his young age of nearly mid-twenties.

When the carpet-floored hall was sparse and mostly clear, the two talked with a soft voice, enough for their sharp ears to hear. "How long would it take for you to mobilize a small platoon of Rogues to the Artic Islands?" The leopard questioned. The lion didn't even blink, "Depending on the expertise and importance of the target, I can call for my men here or at the Islands." "Intelligence gained a new lead on the Rebels' weapon shipment, saying it is coming from that seemingly small time weapons manufacturer, Kortamuv Blades. "We don't know who's paying them off to ship that much many armory, but we need to cut it off and significantly weakening the Kahunian resolve. Our soldiers have been gone too long and need to return home. This is the best option." The Secretary said with a soft genuine care to the men overseas.

Artashir nodded, "Sounds solid. I'll do it personally to make sure it is done and to learn of anything else from the target." The leopard looked abit worried and halted before glancing at the lion, "Be careful, Viscount. You can't be going around being a hero all the time. Alot of people lose their life to that."

The younger man gave a deep chuckle with some humor and nodded, "Pray for me. Besides, the classical villain saying is quite true; 'If you want something done, you have to do it yourself.'" The leopard turned to the lion and cocked a eyebrow, "I couldn't agree with you more. I despise sitting behind a desk...but that is all I can do to save our people and country."

"For Edwin." Artashir cited.

"For Edwin..."

*
Opening his eyes, Art felt his heart drum some and glanced around. The morning sun gazed through the dusky windows and curtains. Biting his bottom lip some, the young lion started to explore the downstairs some, his ears hearing shuffling upstairs. When he was about to move up to greet Fritz and Spike, his eyes caught a piano. Blinking, Art gingerly brushed the dust off the keys and tested them. Hmmm...still some good. Moving over and grabbed a cloth, wetting it with that old water in the frig before cleaning the bench and keys more. When he was remotely satisfied, the lion started to play. Beginning with one key, then another. His mind shuffled for something as his thick clawed fingers worked with impressive dexterity. Anything that he could play until he found a familiar song that seemed keen to his current situation;

"Ahem..." He cleared his throat and started to play with a soft voice,

"All around me are familiar faces...worn -out places, Worn-out faces. Bright and early for the daily races; going nowhere, going nowhere. Their tears are filling up are filling up their glasses. No expression, no expression. Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow...No tomorrow, no tomorrow."
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Re: The Exile's Return (Edwin, CLOSED)

Post by Larcen »

The movement of Fritz falling out of bed stirred Roberta from her sleep. She stretched and yawned big, then nuzzled into the pillow with a content little murr. A heavy sleeper, she'd hardly noticed Fritz' arm around her, but the pinching and prodding had roused her to half-asleep status, interrupting her dream of being in some kind of romantic action flick with her boyfriend, but she'd been wearing knee length boots and he had lost his spare tire. Mmm, good dream altogether, especially when he'd pulled her tight and...well! Spike's ear flicked at Fritz talking to her, but unfortunately for him, it took a lot to counter-prank her. Anyone whose species was expected to laugh as much as hers was, even a fox had to get up pretty early to pull one over on a hyena. Besides, the way her pants were spun almost a quarter of the way around and her shirt sleeves were halfway up to her elbows, she knew she'd remained clothed the entire night.

Roberta merely smiled. Without opening her eyes, she said dreamily, "You weren't so bad yourself, Firejanks. Good luck telling Renee what happened. And don't worry, what Turnpike don't know, won't hurt him." She finally managed to get her body to listen and sit up. But in so doing, something caught her ears that made her open her eyes and take notice.

"Hey, you hear that? Music," she said, getting out of bed and walking past the blanket-clad fennec, ears up curiously. Making her way down the stairs, Spike gave a quiet little whoop to the lion at the piano, just to let him know she was there. "Hey, you get any sleep last night?" she asked softly, concerned for him. Yeah, he had once been at that top rung, a place that furs like her resented and berated only because they weren't there, but losing everything, well...even she felt bad for him.
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Re: The Exile's Return (Edwin, CLOSED)

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Fritz huffed, forgetting how easy it was for her to ignore his prods and merely rolled his eyes at her, knowing she'd been fully clothed all night too. Note to self, wear a little more nightwear next time. Not really caring that he only had a single piece of clothing on, he followed Spike downstairs to see the piano-playing lion. "Lions and musical bars, oh my~" he said with a wink, "Hopefully no one will get scared and come investigate though. As beautiful as that tune sounds, we may have to leave quickly and make the folks around here think the place is haunted in case we have to come back." He leaned against the frame by the stairs with his arms crossed, his mind still clearing out the fog of his dream of Renee. He turned to Spike, "So I guess we're going to see Turnpike then?" he asked to clarify what today's rousing adventure would be.
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Re: The Exile's Return (Edwin, CLOSED)

Post by Artashir »

As the last words of his song left his lips and sniffed, Art opened his eyes fast with a gasp. His head snapped over at the two comrades of his, the lion's mouth opened but nothing came out. Frankly to say, never mind the scarlet on his cheeks, the large masculine man-probably having been a jock in his youth if he went to public school-was embarrassed to be found playing the piano infront of others with his restored talent. "Umm..." He rumbled for a moment to actually recall if he did, "No...not really." Angling his eyes to the teasing fox with slight frown at the thought of neighbors, Art did forget about that and stood up quick before striding out of the room pretty quick for his size.

Art thought of other things to try to settle down the hunger for breakfast or even dinner, but his stomach was starting to disagree vividly. Clicking his tongue, the lion tapped his forehead and mumble out things to himself in a unusual fit but in the back of his mind, he felt something's wrong especially with the distant explosion beyond the horizon.

***
In the space of a large office; with opposite walls lined with books and old artifacts of different cultures, a Edwinius resting chair against a cabinet with a pair of cased shimshars of intricate designs, towards a shaded window was a ebony desk with the latest computer of the year, and a tall armchair that gave off the appearance of a Emperor's chair. In someways it was true...however, a usurper sat in its master's place.

Maxwell sat down on Art...no, HIS chair. Sitting in the comfort of the officer sitting at the top floor of the massive Patius Tower, keeping its name in tribute of its long history with its makers, despite his urge to change it out of spite...but no, the employees and city didn't want that. They still loved their precious lord despite his tremendous power in a ceremonial title. Valentine was patient though. Years under that elitist lion and he finally got what he wanted; power and snuffing out that cat properly.

He smiled in dull-sweet memory of the extensive beatings, the unleashed anger and the best part, the cutting of the lion's precious mane. By the time he had his agents drag the unconscious body out to whatever part of Feila they thought of, the viscount was a bloody mess. But...he never showed pain or disgrace. He saw nothing but hatred and pride etched on the Patius' face as he took every strike as if memorizing and checking off a mental list. That detail of the memory he tried hard to imagine the opposite despite the chill that ran down his spine. Clasping his claws together, this attempt didn't help when he learned a couple days ago from one of his agents in the far east of Edwin that he seen a mangled lion stranded by the dusty highway.

Staring out into space of the high-quality furnishes in the office, Maxwell prayed in his mind time and time again that that lion was someone completely different...or a specter trying to return home. Closing his eyes tight, the fox truly prayed it was and shook his clasped hands tight. Hopefully the bounty will sufficiently hunt it down and kill it. He really didn't want the latter but if news learned of Artashir's murder. Oh Midas...

"That stupid lynx better bring me back his whole mane as proof." He growled before his eye glanced to the newly-installed tv in the corner of the room. The news was on and the factory explosion was caught in the same city...
Last edited by Artashir on Mon Feb 03, 2014 2:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: The Exile's Return (Edwin, CLOSED)

Post by Larcen »

Roberta covered her giggle with a paw. The way the lion looked after getting caught was downright sweet. Aww, he was embarrassed, hehehe. Roberta forced herself to dry up and answer Fritz's question. "Well, uh...I'm gonna go see him, bring 'im here. There aren't enough seats between our two cars, unless you wanna ride in the back, Firejanks. So you stay here with Mane 'n' Tail, and I'll be back, 'kay?

"And I'll bring food! Back in like, half hour!" she hollered to Artashir, then put a paw to her mouth when she realized how loud she was. Calculating the amount the three...no, four of them would eat, Roberta made a mental note and left down the road. The drive was taxing, for what would her beau think? Would he help?

Turns out, he did. "Turnpike" LaTrans, the coyote who still retained the tail end of his prime, was both worried for Roberta's safety, but also realized she could probably kick his tail, so the worry was short-lived. The scent of adventure in her story woke up his old instincts, and he agreed to help. He'd already had breakfast, but when Roberta stopped at the drive-thru, he ordered a McMuffin anyway, coyotes being driven by impulse. Like the gentleman he was, he paid for the tab, though winced at the expense. Boy, to feed a hungry lion and hyena, and yeah a fox too why not, hurt him in the wallet.

****

About forty-five minutes after Roberta had left, a hopped-up, blue-black Rebel Machine growled its way behind the house, smelling of Mickey D's inside. Out stepped a chunky hyena and her escort, a medium-tall, sharp-dressed coyote in a charcoal pinstripe suit, pink shirt, gold neck chain and matching topaz pinky ring. Every hair on his body was in place, his whiskers trained into a striking moustache. He looked like something straight out of an 80s action flick, except for the comical beer gut he was sporting and those slightly bucktoothed upper canines he'd inherited from some monster back in the age of cavaliers. Otherwise, he was one sly son of a coyote, oozing class and gangster charm. Not gangsta. Gangster.

Upon looking at the busted-in door, Turnpike tilted his head. "You let yourself in, huh?" he smirked at Roberta, who smiled coyly back. He went in, carrying a bag of fast food in each paw. "Well well, glad to see the old hideout getting some use," he said, looking about with his tail wagging. But his wild, green-to-yellow eyes caught something that made him huff. The dust on the piano keys had been disturbed. Shooting a glare from Fritz to Artashir, he quipped, "Long as you keep quiet...here's nothing to worry about being discovered. We'll go into the basement after breakfast."

Turnpike and Roberta deposited breakfast onto the table. As hostess, Roberta introduced them. "Mane 'n' Tail, this is my boo, F--...Turnpike LaTrans." Doubtful he would be recognized, as a more or less local former crime prince.

Turnpike, however, recognized the lion instantly. "So, Artashir Patius. I can't believe I'm having breakfast with you of all furs, and in my old hideout even. It's a pleasure," he said, grinning wide enough to make the sunlight glint off a gold premolar. "And Fritz...how's Renee?" he asked rhetorically before digging a paw in one bag and swiping a hash brown for himself. Coyotes were greedy, this much was known. "We'll have breakfast first, then go to the war room," he said cryptically, sitting down at the table. Roberta joined, pleased as punch. "Yeah like, dig in, fellas. You gotta be starving."

___________________
[Required music for the second part, as requested by Turnpike himself: Bride--Hired Gun]
Last edited by Larcen on Mon Jan 27, 2014 7:18 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: The Exile's Return (Edwin, CLOSED)

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Fritz was grimacing at the fast food in front of him, but then decided to take it in stride, knowing food in any form as a fugitive would be a blessing. He was about to take his first bite before noticing his phone buzzing. He pulled it out and answered, "Hello?" The voice on the other end was clear as day, "FRITZ! WHERE ARE YOU?!" Renee was miffed, and Fritz was blanching, "I can't tell you right now..." he started, and Renee interrupted, "Don't give me that, I saw Spike driving out of town with her old mafia boyfriend you told me about, so I know something serious is up." Fritz tried to console her, "Renee, babe, you know I wouldn't want to put you in any danger..." Renee scoffed, "Danger? I'm more of a danger to the people around me right now because my boyfriend isn't letting me help." Fritz was dumbfounded, "H-help?" he managed. "Yes, I want to help. I looked at the news and recognized the lion you're with. If anything I'm more of a hindrance if the people after him find me, so why not take that advantage away from them?" she asked. Fritz couldn't argue. "A-a-alright, I'll talk to the others and try to convince them." Renee giggled, "Try hard, otherwise I've got a razor with your name on it waiting." Fritz was visibly shaken as she hung up. "Umm...guys, I can't argue her at this point. On our way to wherever we're going, can we pick my girlfriend up?" he asked sheepishly.
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Re: The Exile's Return (Edwin, CLOSED)

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Art glanced away from his personal embarrassment with his cheeks flushed, wiggling his dark-tipped ears in a swaying motion and keeping to himself. Then he heard the mention of food, making his head turn into the departing Spike's direction with a unknowing cub-like expression with wide eyes and eager look to his lips, not even seemed bothered by the chance of blowing their cover. His fractured mind was swooping between the lion the two found on the side of the road-lost and innocent-and a fierce and direct man, it was hard to keep track now.

Taking the time while Spike was away to exercise abit to keep his muscles firm and proper in case they had to run or fight, Art didn't talk to Fritz beside the respectful pleasantries of 'How was your sleep?' and 'How's it going so far?' as if they weren't hunted right probably. The lion even wondered if they were still under threat from that crazy lynx from earlier.

Soon after the half-hour of standard push-ups, sit-ups, and crunches while a unconscious work for each in the hundred before pressing his back to a nearby wall with a bit of a pant, summoning a disappointed look on the feline's face. A voice in the back of his head growled, 'Weakling'.

Art sighed out and rubbed his face with a gentle massage of his large fingers before hearing the door open again, nose inhaled deeply and whispers flared at the scent of dear Roberta and food! Amongst these was another smell. Lifting his head from his black padded hand, the lion found himself looking at a slicked coyote with a noticeable set of fangs. A perfect idol of a retired gangster if he ever saw one. Remaining quiet from the half-scowl, Art got up from his seat-brush his pants and paws- and walk to the kitchen to eat.

Tilting his head at the food, the lion politely took his share and began to eat, savoring every bite like his last. His dual-colored eyes aimed at Roberta as she introduced the gangster as Turnpike and nodded to him, "Pleasure."

When his full name-at least public one-was sounded, Art felt his mouth moisten around his meal before he swallowed it whole, and bowed his head abit, "Thanks for the food and help." He spoke out, very happy to have some food in his system. To add to the morning's intrigues, Fritz's phone rang. Needless to say, the lion's sharp ears managed to catch the conversation between the fox and a...probably violent-prone woman. Art didn't even answer, giving a chuckle and shrugs, "I am not the driver...I just hope she doesn't get us blown up." He simply retorted, looking at the lovers from across the table as he ate on hash brown with a crunch.
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Re: The Exile's Return (Edwin, CLOSED)

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Turnpike burst forth in laughter at Fritz's predicament. While the other furs ate, he stalked around Spike's end of the table, getting his paw swatted more than once for trying to sneak some of her food. "Iunno what to tell you about that, Fritz, but we won't need the car where we're going." Spike hurried up and finished her own breakfast, head tilted at his cryptics.

Turnpike held up a paw to keep her from asking. Going over to the door to the basement, he popped out one panel from the door frame and produced a key. With it, he unlocked the door and turned on the light. "Gentlefurs and Babe," one guess who Babe was, and Fritz wasn't it, "welcome to the war room." He descended, keeping a nose out for trouble, as were his instincts. Downstairs, amid the dust, was a war room and a half. A large safe c. 1906 stood on one wall, next to it a sizable gun safe. A set of chairs around a table stood underneath the one bare, exposed light bulb in the middle of the basement. Maps and charts lined the walls, plans for old jobs either done or abandoned. "All right, nobody's been down here," the coyote said, opening up the mini fridge and pulling out a cold beer. "Now you can be as loud as you want, and nobody'll hear ya," he said, dusting off one of the chairs to sit.

Spike sat as well, cringing at the dirt and eww, and the specters of crimes past. This was what her boyfriend had gotten away from, and it made her nervous. She slid over to Turnpike and grabbed his paw, which he grasped reassuringly. Turnpike was the only one Spike could be vulnerable around, but he gave her a wink. All was still cool. "So yeah," he said to the lion, "what's the situation we got here, Patius?"
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Re: The Exile's Return (Edwin, CLOSED)

Post by Bigfox3 »

Fritz came down and was only halfway paying any attention to the workings down here, more concerned about his girlfriend than the situation at hand. He sighs and clears his head, trying to fill in Turnpike on what he knew of the situation, "As far as we're aware, the lion here has a slight case of amnesia. He didn't remember anything but his name where we found him the other day nearly dead on the side of the road. We brought him to Spike's to help him recover, and I served as a decoy to lure away the assassin sent to finish the job. If anything I managed to throw them off enough to send them reeling into the police's arms, hopefully. We all met here after our tails were clear, so if anything I'll assure you that there is a getaway driver in your presence." He paused to allow the lion to fill in more pertinent facts for the man.
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Re: The Exile's Return (Edwin, CLOSED)

Post by Artashir »

Art walked behind Spike and Turnpike into the war room, his eyes traced at the charts and map before he received a migraine for his feline curiosity and reflection. Pinching the bridge of his muzzle, he fell into another lapse of memory;

Artashir marched into the rocky makeshift war room in the belly of a Artic Islands cargo carrier, dressed in a thick ice-blue snow-coat with white fur trimming, fingers tightening in their gloves and eyes gleaming in the dim room with inner fires as ten of his best Rogue operatives, all Rangers of the old sect, stood in attention. Captain Phantom looked over with his white-gold eyes, holding his composition bow like a eternal companion, in a way it was. "Gentlemen and ladies..." He greeted, leaning over to the boxes lined up to hold his map of their target; a highlighted building of sizable appearance sitting against a mountain that is actually a large mining deposit for crystals, perhaps one of the few large deposits left.

"Tonight, we are going to have a good old fashioned 'cut-the-snake-into-pieces' operation. As you have been briefed early and aware of our brothers and sisters over seas, these rebel-supporting scum are supply our enemy with crystals for experimental research into the old arts. If my 'contact' is reliable, the arts of fine destruction. Explosive arcane bombs that will make modern explosives seem like little firecrackers in comparison. As you and I both know, it must be stopped...and contained." The lion said with a grim smile to his black lips. Some had similar, well-keen on their leader's meaning but Phantom continued to have his stoic look to the map, "Any limitations, sir?" "Limitations...leave the battle in this area." Artashir began with a red mark have a estimated kilometer radius. "No one escapes. Workers contained. All armed forces subdued or neutralized. Essential personnel..."


Everyone looked at him expectingly. "Cut from the picture." They knew exactly what he meant.

---
Gasping out to that, the lion shuddered terribly and lowered his paw in time to hear Fritz finish his summary. Blinking twice before realizing what he said, Art looked up to Turnpike and answered the coyote's question with a more...deep reply, "I will say simple, Mr. Turnpike. This is a usurping deal...Maxwell Valentine of Valentine Enterprises, a extension of Patius Corps in terms of weapons manufacturing, have decided to play 'replace the boss' card. I am here and if you are familiar with the term 'territory' and feral life, then you know, he have just messed with mine in more ways than one. Right now, I am in a disadvantage with a severe lack of resources and being abit far from my home turf. Calling for help will put everyone in risk, so we will need to act careful and strategic. Especially with some psychotic bounty hunter after me. I will understand and respect that you don't want to able to this grave danger. I would thank you all for your help so far, but...I can genuinely say I care for you enough to not waste your lives on one of Edwin's elite."
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Re: The Exile's Return (Edwin, CLOSED)

Post by Larcen »

As he listened to the explanation, Turnpike wished he'd put on his mirrored sunglasses. They made him more inscrutable. He stared off at the wall, leaning back in hs chair with his paws steepled, listening to Fritz, then swiveling his ears toward Artashir. Occasionally a whisker would twitch at a detail or so. Spike had no idea what was going on in his head, but every time she shifted, his ear flicked in her direction, as if acknowledging her. Behind his stone face, however, the circuits in the coyotes brain were lighting up like that one guy on your block's Christmas decorations. When Fritz and Artashir finished, he sighed and stood up, pacing slowly around the table.

"So..." he began, his leather-soled shoes clacking on the cement floor, "let's review my side of this." He laid his ears back, showing some agitation. "I get out of prison, end up responsible for the deaths of three of my former associates just to try and get out of the game. I get rid of my cars, I get rid of my GUNS, and THEN, the woman I find to help keep me OUT of trouble, comes to me, bringing me the top cat of one of Feila's shadiest legitimate multinational corporations, who's asking for help infiltrating his own defense industry with intent to kick his former lackey's tail out of the building without bothering with the elevator, all as part of some corporate turf war." He was clearly either angered to level 11, or putting on one heckuva show. Turnpike finally whipped around and glared at Roberta.

"Woman, WHY do I love you?!" he shouted, throwing his paws up at her. Spike smirked and stood up, approaching him with a paw on her hip seductively...how she managed that? Try NOT to use your imagination. "Why do you think?" she asked in return, grabbing him around the waist. He blushed and chuckled at her. "Heh heh heh...Oh yeah. Thanks for reminding me." Turnpike looked past her at the other two furs, then let his girlfriend go.

"Well, Patius, since you managed to get an assassin and probably half a mercenary squad by now after my main squeeze..." That caught him a cross-armed glare and he backpedaled. "...er, my woman here, guess I can't refuse. Truth be told I have been missing the adrenaline. But like I said, I'm all out of resources. I got maybe two contacts left. One car, and I intend on keeping its record clean. One pistol. I do have money. But I want compensation in the event we don't get our pelts nailed to the wall. Besides, being a legitimate business," he said with more than a hint of sarcasm, "They have the police on their side. This is gonna get interesting. Now before I go digging up old contacts, have you got a plan for this venture? 'Cuz frankly, I can handle wheels. Nobody messes with my babe here, and Fritz...uh..." he coughed. "anyway you got a plan?"
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Re: The Exile's Return (Edwin, CLOSED)

Post by Bigfox3 »

Fritz got his brain a bit fried when he was looking at 'sexy' Spike. He did admit his friend would have quite a bit of va-va-voom under her rough exterior, but she probably only showed that in very intimate settings. He got back to the task at hand, "The best I can offer is a potential secondary driver and information. I've been pretty good at hacking computer systems in the past, and with Renee's help as the 'lady' if we need spywork done, she'd be happy to help. As to where and how, you guys are in charge with this. Just tell me when we're ready since I don't want my girlfriend pacing too much. I mean it is a bit of a turn-on to see her flustered, but I don't need TOO many distractions." He winked at Art.
The Dessert War never happened, but I'm deluded enough that I've convinced myself I already won. :3

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