Flashback [Sunset Quarters] What was stolen may be replaced.

[Eleazar Victor Syroin]

65th of Autumn, 511AV The fire at the orphanage and resulting death of Calyn the knower had shaken the city more greatly than it cared to let on. The usual beat to the city had been lost with that fire. The core rhythmic movement of people had altered and it was causing Eleazar problems. Where normally people would have flocked to, the streets were nearly bare and places normally secretive now were open for all to see. The teen hadn't been able to steal anything at all today on account of simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was pissing him off. Storming down the alleys of the Sunset quarter, he took a kick at one of the street dogs. It returned the gesture by biting his leg. A brief scuffle later, the thief limped away angrier than before. The streets still stank of the fire, black soot covering many of the buildings close to where the orphanage had stood. The building was still there, charred but now habitable due to the many workers helping rebuild it. To be honest Eleazar had never seen so many locals in one place without a brawl going on. It was a real social tribute to Calyn and her work the fact they were all cooperating, well mostly cooperating. Resting by one of the buildings, the teen rubbed at the bite on his leg allowing his anger to focus on the pain. He had never liked the orphanage. The knower herself was a different matter, but the orphanage had always terrified Eleazar. He had been over joyed when Calyn had allowed him to stay in his mother's flat. She had been too kind to him. She had been too kind to everyone and now the city silently wept at her death. Or not in the case of a few of the children helping out. Snot ran from their noses mixing with the streams of salt water running down their cheeks in chocked down sniffles. Their home was gone, so was their 'motherly' figure and those unable to escape the inferno. It was the only thing Eleazar allowed himself to empathise with them about, the lose of a mother and siblings. Thud. Thud. Thud. Stone cold eyes gazed on as the cold body jerked unevenly. The group of men were laughing. The chaos of the riot happening on the main street seemed to fade away to nothing. All that could be heard was the sound of the corpse hitting the ground repeatedly. Thud. Thud. Thud. A small hand grabbed at the thief's arm dragging him out of his trance. Resting his ringed hand on the bridge of his nose, Eleazar turned to the hands owner only to freeze. Dark curls like their mother's and pale eyes like his own, the little nine year old girl stared up at him innocently. How did he know she was nine? Because that was how old she would have been. She was always the age she would have been. “Big brother, Are you okay?” A sweet bell like voice came from pink lips as her young face became concerned. The world had disappeared from around the thief as his breathing became erratic. This wasn't real. This wasn't real! Why wasn't it real?! Blood pounded hard in his eyes as his heart tried to beat itself free of his body. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. The slap was sudden and loud. A few heads turned briefly to see if a fight was to break out, only to turn away disappointed when they saw a boy panting against one of the many rackety houses in the slum. Eleazar's face stung as did his hand but it had worked. The girl had gone. He was alone again. Waiting for his breathe to even out, the teen began sizing up suitable prey. Thievery always helped calm his mind. He never could figure out why but it did. Usually his 'trade' took part in the taverns or the Seaside market but he didn't have time to get to either of those. He needed to stop thinking now. To just stop. To just forget. Briefly forget about them, even though it hurt. Failure to do so would send him back into another hallucinated day dream. Pale eyes finally halted their scurrying as they landed on two young men. Both tan and tall with muscular builds hinting at the labouring type, which meant they would be slow. They were talking to each other in sombre tones, their bags lay a little way from them. Pausing for a moment to check around him, Eleazar moved in for the kill. He sauntered past them casually, whilst plucking one of the bags from the ground, only to break into a full sprint down the street upon passing them.

[Noven]

By the third day, there was no more weeping to be seen.

Instead, the locals banded together, more so than they had in a long time, to assess the damage and make repairs. No one knew who would be taking Calyn's place, but rumor had it that someone already got the job. Someone young and beautiful, but cold and tough as nails as well. Noven only hoped she would keep the orphanage running. It was the only thing between live children and dead children these days.

There was always one tragedy or other ripening in this city. Always something to complain about or turn a sorrowful face away from. And, because of that, Sunberthians were loathe to spend more tears than needed when something could be done. Nov liked this aspect of life in a complete shyke hole. It was because everything was shyke that people had even less time to mope about it.

Life is what it is. Either you get busy living, or get busy dying.

Beside him, the man he had befriended on the day of the fire helped drag burnt debris out of the way, throwing them in a heaping pile of unusable wood. It had been something of a sanctuary, staying with Senghor these past two days. Nov had forgotten what it was like entirely to have a comrade, a friend of any kind.

In the time they'd spent together, mostly helping with the reconstruction, drinking in Pig's Foot, and getting into no fewer than three fights in the past two nights, the young man learned quite a bit about his much taller and much brawnier friend. He learned that Seng's family estate had been burnt to the ground by debtors, and that there was something in his bloodline his parents never revealed to him. Essentially, he was just like Nov. Driven with ambition and determination few could rival. Devoting every day to seeing his chosen path to its end.

Of course, he learned other things as well. Senghor, it seemed, despite his intimidating appearance, was a noble soul. He had, after all, helped Nov save all those children, and despite his usual lack of hesitance to beat a thug to a bloody pulp, he was rarely crude or mean to the common folk of Sunberth. In fact, Nov found his new friend rather poetic, which was nothing if not unexpected from a fellow mercenary.

The young man heaved another piece of burnt wood and threw it along with its unwanted brethren. He had decided he would tell Seng of his curse in the next few days, should their friendship prove as true as it seemed. For some reason, he felt he could trust this man with his life.

They chattered while they worked, low and calm but not without a chuckle or two at some dark joke or other. It seemed, Nov mused, his humor could be nothing but dark these days.

"Hey Seng, up for another round 'o drinks after we fi--"

Someone came up from behind them and was now pelting down the street like a madman. Being a native of Sunberth, Nov didn't even have to think twice. He took one look at the bag in the scrawny figure's hands and took after him, shoving people aside as he bolted past Sunset.

[Senghor Vilhjalmr]

A bead of sweat trailed down the face of the darkness skinned man as he shifted charred beams burnt by the fire not so many long ago. Turning towards the smaller man that was talking to him, Seng only replied the best he could, Noven had been staying with him and thankfully the man had a skill for cooking, Senghor was thankfully for such luck. He remembered the first day when he sat at his table and were talking to each other, it didn't take long for their attention to shift towards the Pig's Foot and ultimately end up outside, in a brawl... Also he remembered telling Noven about his current situation with debtors and how he ended up in Sunset Quarters. It was a story he told nobody when sober but when he reflected deeply on what had happened to him and what had happened to the orphanage he couldn't allow these children to suffer the same fate. To suffer and than turn into what he was, a self loathing, angry person who sought nothing but the sweet nectar of vengeance. Noven said something to Seng, yet was quickly interrupted as Senghor swung a large charred beam over his shoulder and moved it towards the pile they'd began to create away from the burnt building it didn't take long of foreign footsteps to turn to running, the melody continued when another rustle of running followed. Seng threw the large beam into the pile and turned back to face Noven, he was gone... He inclined his head towards the bags and frowned, shifting his position and quickly following in the direction that the footsteps disappeared to, it didn't take long for Seng to catch up with Nov. "First one to catch this prick, gets to beat all his senses out his body!" he said as he ran beside Nov, inclining his head towards the alleys of the Sunset "You think he might want to disappear into the alleys?"...

[Eleazar Victor Syroin]

It didn't take long for the men to be after him. Both reacting with the same gut instinct that any local would. But he had been correct in assuming he could out pace them. With a health lead on the pair and legs with nearly a decade of being chased to his advantage, the thief had it in the bag. Well he would have, and had the bag too, if he had been paying more attention to where he was going rather that keeping an eye on the duo. No more than a few strides in front of the teen, a small wooden cart, serving as an impromptu wheelbarrow to move the weighty debris of the charred footprint left from fire, came to rest in his escape path. Oh Shyke! Where had that come from? Realising this with only ticks to spare, Eleazar felt his knee collide against the heavy object and surrendered his body to being flipped over the cart by his previous velocity. Half way over the teen extended his arms out in front of him, at least that way his fall would be some what cushioned. The scrape of the earth against his skin wasn't as rough as he had expected. The fallen ash had rotted over the past few days, creating a softer layer of mud to cushion the contact between his palms and the normally hard packed dust ground. Unfortunately the muck was ideal for sticking to skin, with his feet levering over the cart, Eleazar got a face first experience of this. His feet smacking into the ground completed his fall, leaving the thief filthier than before and disorientated. It could have gone worse, but his face still hurt like petch. And his lead on his pursuers was as good as gone. In fact it was worse than gone, the two fools were only a chime away. His newly 'acquired' bag has also successfully made it over and lay barely a few hand widths away. Rubbing the muck from his face with a sleeve, the teen ignored the cart's owner's cries of shock, diving for the bag and hauling himself up to run again. His knee protested against this, slowing his sprinting down. They were going to catch him. His breathes were becoming harder every chime that went past. Their footsteps echoing louder in his ears. Thud. Thud. Thud. No. Not right now. Focus Eleazar. You can't out run them, but what else can you do. You can do something right? His eyes seemed to spasm in their socket as they zoomed over everything in sight. There was an alley. That would do. It had to do. He almost zoomed right past it, turning in at the last minute, colliding breifly with a wall before scampering away from the main streets. The thief knew many of the alleys in the city, especially around the Quarters, but in his panic his muddled brain couldn't figure out which one this was. It wasn't overly wide to begin with and was narrowing down. There were no other connections onto it. Just a continuous wooden chasm between the slum's houses. A sudden sharp turn to the left sent the teen into another wall once again before he scrapped down the path again. All the while in his ears, Eleazar could hear the 'Thud. Thud. Thud.' of the footsteps behind him. Petch. Petch. Run legs, run for petch's sake! Come on just around this corner there'll be..... The alley can to a dead end. Eleazar's route to freedom was blocked by a wooden fence nearly twice his height. “Y-You're kiddin' mi. 'ere na way t-that....” “'at you'll get caught? Or 'at you could 'scape me?” The teen spun on his heel, slamming his back into the fence. She was back again. Walking daintily over the earth, shoeless feet prowled closer to the terrified thief. He wanted to throw up, to run, to wake up. But, no, she was just getting closer and closer. The innocent expression was still in place, now hinting at something darker attached to a body moving like a dog hunting it's prey. The dark haired child came to a stop some distance from her 'brother' adopting a predatory grin, abandoning trying to look guiltless. Oh shyke. He needed to get out of there now. Flipping around quickly, the teen backed up slightly and took a runner at the fence. Springing off of the ground, he tried to swing his free hand, the other clinging to the bag, over the edge of it. First time round his hand slid off, unable to find a stable grip on the structure. The skin ripped open as it fought against gravity and the wood. Landing on his arse, a hand found a strong grip on the teen's arm. A sickenly sweet face reared it self over Eleazar's shoulder as he was dragged back. The bag was taken from his grip as the little ten year old girl balled up a fist to throw the first strike. “Did ya really 'ink ya could forget 'bout me!? 'bout what 'appened?!” “'Em....'em....S-Sorry. 'Em sorry!” “No ya aren't brother. Not yet any wa'.” Another strike fell, allowing tears to wash some of the ash from his face. A third quickly followed. Then again and again. Having spent the last of his energy fighting off his own mind. There was nothing left for the thief to do but cry, beg and scream. And scream he did. OOCI'm leaving it up to you guys what actually happened once Elea left the real world. This is me still experimenting with his hallucinations and his various mental issues. So any ideas to add in would be brilliant. Another note: The little girl is entirely hallucinated. No one else but Elea can see/hear/taste?/touch/smell her. She doesn't really exist. I'll be putting up a plot notes for Elea soon, So she'll get a profile in there. Look it up once it's up.

[Noven]

Nov shot a toothy grin in Seng's direction. "They always do."

The scrawny kid gave them a good chase, he had to admit that. Seemed to know where he was going, like he had grown up running through these streets, always just out of reach of angry pursuers. Wasn't a surprise, of course. Half the young folk in Sunberth were that way, and the ones who avoided getting caught until they were old enough to learn how to perfect their art were made stronger for it.

Well, this one wasn't getting away. Especially not after he flipped over a cart laden with ashen debris and landed on the other side in muck. Nov leered. Now was their chance.

By the time he rounded the cart, the kid was up and running again, albeit with much less of a headstart than before. On they chased with mercy, until the skinny little thief disappeared into a wall. Nov almost ran past the alleyway that the culprit had slipped into but he halted just in time to catch the edge of the wall and haul himself backwards.

One look down the dead end of an alleyway told them they had their prey. There was no where this kid could go. He was dead meat.

Nov balked midstep, however, when he noticed something odd about their little thief. It seemed as though the teen was terrified of something. But what? There was nothing on either side but the dirty end of an alleyway and two panting, angry young men blocking the only exit.

Then the kid started to scream.

Wincing, Nov took a step back, expecting something to burst through the walls. But nothing did. Yet, the thief continued screaming and begging and crying. Petching hell, he was either drugged out of his mind or quite literally just out of his mind. His shrill cries were echoing off the walls and piercing their ears like tiny knives. It was aggravating, to say the least.

So, Nov did the only sensible thing he could do.

He marched up to the howling boy and punched him square in the jaw.

"Wake up, kid," he snarled. "Now's not the time to be having nightmares."

[Senghor Vilhjalmr]

The decrepit stench of vile, desperate weakness seemed to linger in the particles of the air the thief had ran through, Seng could almost pick it up as his heart pumped and his adrenaline dilated his mapped veins like tendrils they nursing up his arms and neck, pulsing heavily with each drum beat of his own heart. In a quick glance he turned to look at Noven and back at the field of view ahead, he watched as the thief flip over a cart, and fall over, if he wasn't so pissed than maybe he'd have stopped and laughed his ass off at the kids stupidity yet it didn't take long for him to be up and running once again. As the two men closed the gap with relative ease, when Seng neared the cart the man had fall over, his mustered his acrobatic abilities, he brought his knees to his chest and his right arm onto the destroyed cart, he propped his body over it and kicked dirt in no less than the time he got over it and was right behind his friend Noven. Dirt was the last of his problems as he watched both the bodies he was after disappear into the hollowed embrace of an alley. A scream, a conflicted howl burst from unknown lips as Seng disappeared into the alley as well dearly behind Noven, his chest heaved as he heard the desperate cries of begging, pleading and crying. A sigh left the lips of the dark skinned man whilst he walked Noven do what Sunberth had taught him to do best, a thunderous smack echoed into the plains of his ears when he looked at the senseless beating with a typical gaze of disinterest... "You know I thought thieves were stupid, but this guy takes the cake..." he said in a hollow tone whilst walking towards Noven and the thief... "Where's the petching bag?"

[Eleazar Victor Syroin]

Stop. Stop. STOP. JUST STOP. It's not real! She's not real! It's all in your head. Just in your head. In my brain. In my mind. She's in my mind! It is you so make it stop. Stop. Just stop it! Stop it! STOP IT! Slap! Slap! “......'s not the time to be having nightmares." The world jumped back to the thief, or maybe he jumped back to the world. He couldn't tell any more. The only one thing he was sure of was, having ripped his mind to shreds once again, she had gone. But he hadn't been the one to banish her. Looking up near hyperventilating, the thief met the eyes of his 'saviour'. The realization that he wasn't alone stopped his breathing, only for him to chug down large gulps of air a few ticks later. Standing over him was a tan young man, early tweenties, brown hair gone wild looking pissed. What had he done this time?! What had he been doing before this? Running? Wait he had stolen something hadn’t he? What was it, What was it...... Shyke! Eleazar fingers began raking through his hair as he stared at the ground beneath him. Nothing made sense, Eleanor always ensured everything went tipsy turvy in the wake of her 'show'. Meeting the man's eyes again, the teen managed to chokingly stutter out a few words. “Ay...... A-Ay don't know...what....who?..” The alley way lapsed into near silence until a gruff voice, that didn't belong to the man in front of him, loudly asked “Where's the petching bag?” The tone was one of disinterest and annoyance, it's dark skinned owner's face giving off a similar message. You are nothing but scum. A thieving street rat that has lost his mind. No family. No friends. Better off dead. A glance at his heavy handed 'saviour' showed no more a friendly attitude. If he didn't cough up the details soon, the two would probably just kill him and try and hunt down the bag themselves. “B-Bag?.....Ay.....don't know...where.....Maybe, Eleanor took it? She's mi lil' sister. Might 'ave picked et up when she attacked m........mi. 'At didn't... happen, huh?..... Ay won't know 'en.” Pulling himself from the dirt ground, Eleazar opened his mouth to say something else but was cut off by his stomach growling at him. Oh come on, he ate like two days ago! Why was even his body betraying him now? Did the world really want him to die? Feeling melodramatic, the teen fell to his knees and curled into a ball clutching his noisy stomach, at the feet of the two men. Maybe if they might get him something to eat. Either that or they killed him. If they choose the latter at least some of the merchants would be able to sleep easier at night.

[Noven]

The kid was blabbering. It grated Nov's nerves.

He clenched and unclenched his fist a few times, preparing to throw another wake up call at the thief's grimy face. But, something about the helpless teen's dazed, terrified expression held him back. It felt...familiar, somehow. The fear, the confusion, as though he just woke up from a barrage of haunted memories.

Eleanor? Sister? Nov looked at the kid in grim consternation. For being so scrawny, he sure carried some heavy baggage.

A resounding growl gurgled from the thief's stomach and the boy promptly curled over in pain and defeat, likely having exhausted his last reserves of energy after days of going hungry. That would explain his desperation, then, and sloppy escape.

With a sigh, Nov hauled the kid up to his feet by one lanky arm and dragged him towards Seng. "Bag's probably long gone," he grumbled. "If you lost it back there near the cart and mud, someone will have snatched it in an instant. You owe us big time, you runt."

Well, that was half true. The thief did owe them, but only for a spare shirt, a single, mealy apple, some stale bread, and an eating knife. They were native Sunberthians, after all. Neither would be thick enough to carry valuables in as easy a target as a bag. But, the kid didn't need to know that. They were going to have a bit of fun first.

"Hey, Seng," Nov grinned ominously. "What do you think we should make this bundle 'o sticks do to pay off his debt?"

[Senghor Vilhjalmr]

A sigh left the lips of the Vilhjalmr when Noven told him that the bag was probably long gone by now, 'Damnit...' he thought before contemplating on what to do next. If Noven hadn't gotten to this ass first than Seng would have already killed him by now yet it seemed that the roles were always reversing with the two, one becomes hot-headed and the other has to sift through the mess and fix things. But this guy was definitely a nutcase in his own right, he was talking to or about someone that wasn't even there but it was than that Seng saw something in the kid, a damaged soul... How ironic, at his side was a man who's recently lost every and now a thief with some sort of illness and he, just the same only with a different story to tell. He chuckled for a moment before turning back to the confusion and looked down at the thief, "We could strap him to a tree outside the city and see what happens?" "We could throw him in the Pits and see if they've a yukman, his quick feet like his I'm sure we're bound for a show" "Brand him a magic user and watch as Sunberth burns him alive for amusement?" he said darkly, his eyes slightly narrowed as he watched the thief shift into all methods of fear. Yet, he ceased on the sadistic speak and casually spoke. "What's your name kid?" he asked, waiting before turning back and walking out the alley, yet not before that he turned to his friend Noven and spoke. "Drag him back, I don't care if he's kicking and screaming but for stealing that bag, I'm going to make sure he damn well pays fully for it..." he said as he walked back through the churned streets, Seng saw a much more darker approach to this than simply just killing the thief, no... He'd make sure that every ounce of strength, of will, of hope and pride from his greedy little body would be broken, all through simple labour... Hard labour in fact

[Eleazar Victor Syroin]

Curled up on the cold dirt, Eleazar hadn't been expecting to be quickly hauled out of his dramatics by the brown haired man. Nor was the thief expecting to have his skinny frame near enough thrown over to the man's friend. Exhausted and off balance already, Eleazar was fully expecting to end up face down in the dirt again, only to be dragged along by his arm, half walking, half crawling. Looking up from the ground, the alleyway was shorter and straighter than he remembered. When had he lost track of reality? Eleanor always screwed everything up, the real world just twisted away from him each time she came around. It was all her fault! But I'm not even real. Go away. Go away! Leave me be! It's not my fault. It wasn't my fau- Yes it was. It always was! It always is! Big Brother. Brother. Brother. Obviously angry the brunette dragged the delusional dark haired teenager onwards, discussing his fate loudly with his partner. Flickering back into the real world, Eleazar only thoughts were that the grin on the man's face was not a friendly one nor was it reassuring. It warned only of violence and pain. "Hey, Seng, What do you think we should make this bundle 'o sticks do to pay off his debt?" The newly addressed 'Seng' looks a light too happy at the question. If anything the short haired, muscular man was giddy at the words that had come from the one 'escorting him'. A sinister chuckle escaped the man's lips as he looked down at the teen, looking like he had just heard the most funniest thing ever. Before he continued in a smooth threatening voice. "We could strap him to a tree outside the city and see what happens? We could throw him in the Pits and see if they've a yukman, his quick feet like his I'm sure we're bound for a show, Brand him a magic user and watch as Sunberth burns him alive for amusement?" As each suggestion was flung into the air, Eleazar came closer and closer to passing out. The walls of the alley shifted back and forth in front of his eyes, warping inward to touch the thief's face then receding back miles away. Shyke. Why could the world not sit still for a few ticks? Petch. The sound of the world blurred out again, 'Seng' was still talking he couldn't hear what he was saying. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it! I don't want this. I can't. Help me. Make it stop. Please. Please make it go away. Running away from the real world isn't going to help, daniel. I'm not trying to run away! But you are and this is why you can't win, silly boy. No, please don't leave me alone again. It's not my fault. I's not. It's not. No. No. No! NO! Something that had held him together since that day snapped. Eleazar's pale eyes became glassy as his mind collapsed in on itself. His body would be stiff and unresponsive to anything happening around him, similar to a house with all the candles lit but nobody home. One overly powerful gust of wind would send a candle to the floor and burn the entire place down. But yet the world continued on with itself, as it always did.