Diestaria - Lake of Sin

Chapter Eleven - The Ringing

For a moment, they both stared. Spectator was visibly confused, his head tilted to the side like a confused Ior Hound. There was a dark grey tarp covering the entirety of the alleyway, which was much thicker than normal. It was hard to pick away as odd, for with all the disproportionate architecture and unfinished or broken buildings surrounding. After a long moment Drifty slid down the ring on the umbrella, and with a slick whack closed. He shook it out and swiftly slid it into another holder on the outside of the tarp. So, their everywhere. He noted briefly to himself. Drifty looked over his shoulder, scanning around. His tail twitched. He looked like someone who didn't want to get caught with something, and at that he pulled up the corner and yanked him in. Spectator flinched, his forehead coming into contact with the wet outer tarp. Drifty dried his hands on his pants. Leaving quick-drying streaks of rain water. The room was pure cement aside from scaffolding surrounding it. Spectator gave a look around, and his eyes twitched while he inspected. As though unsure he was allowed to look around. There were thick, sturdy cloths around the scaffolding- making almost a canopy and jungle of the unfinished products. At the other side of the room was a more narrow exit, he could tell by the way the tarp could be torn in half with velcro. The smoothed cement was wet where they walked, but otherwise dry. When he looked up he noticed a half-transparent piece of cloth and plastic. Rain pelted down on it. He could have sworn he saw a shifting figure on the scaffolding, but played it as his exhaustion making up things. He couldn't help but notice a stand. It was shabby, worn out, and the tarnish peeled. There was a bell at it. Once Drifty gathered himself fixed up his clothing he walked to it. He reached out a hand to ring it. The ringing echoed through the desolate place. He saw the shifting again, but much more prominent. Spectator almost collapsed as a hulking figure landed perfectly on his feet. His skin was a very dark color, about black. But more like obsidian lined with dust after sitting on a shelf. Ignored once quarried from the ground. His muscles were prominent, though not like a mad body builder gone insane on heading to a gym. His arms were crossed with a level of authority. And then, a mask covering his face. It was purely black and molded to look like a kitsune, almost resembling a cartoonish version of Cosmar. It was like drowning on emotion as sorrow flooded his chest thinking about him. He brushed it away to stare back in awe. The man was about seven foot, and wore a tactical short sleeved shirt with black cargo pants. There was a quiet growl as his tail lashed. "Ayeee," Drifty spoke slyly and did finger guns to him. Not quite a greeting Spec would see around the capital, that's for sure. He spoke up with a rigid voice that matched his growl, a tone that matched him well. Deep and intimidating. "If you're drunk and trying to pull in a straggler you met on the side of the road, I will personally pommel you with my fist and crack open your skull." He snarled. Jerking up a hand and pointing strongly at Drifty, leaning forwards even to poke at his chest hardly with a claw. "Ah nah," Drifty shook his head- still in his pleased mood, "Cosmar hasn't spread word, huh? With you asleep up there all the time I half expected him to waltz into a dream and flat out tell ya." Drifty almost broke into a loud chuckle. Behind the mask he could tell this sort of 'gatekeeper's face was turning red. "I'm not always asleep." He seemed like a Taurin Bull ready to charge, with its pronged thick horns crushing ribs. He half expected him to scrape his industrial boot against the cement like one in warning. "Cut the crap, spit it out.'' He said in a refined shout. Drifty shrugged, "If you would quit being so hardheaded I would tell you. You called Cosmar's son a straggler." He held out a hand in gesture to Spec. Spectator felt himself slightly shrink and shuffle away. The tall man shuttered, and shrank back a bit like him. He grunted briefly. Drifty didn't allow the silence for too long and continued, "Spec, this is Ring." Spectator wondered if this was a street name, or if that was really it. As Drifty continued, apparently he was also called 'Ring Ring'. He figured it was in relation to the ring. But whoever he was, Spectator surely didn't want to catch his hands in a fight. "Now if you will excuse us, we will get on going," Drifty proudly strutted forwards with his tail swaying. The interlocked exposed bone clicking. Ring shuffled back, and tensed his shoulders. Spectator rushed to follow Drifty, and politely waved good bye to Ring. He then trembled slightly once they exited with the thought, a Mawmonster.. First confrontation I have had with one.. I wonder if they are all like that? They were then introduced to a tight-nit hood type place, but it was walled away like a castle. The demeanor of the people here were the same, but they seemed safer. I could get behind this, he thought with a hint of glee.