Log – Who is She? (1/2)

Intro: Second Log for Contrary. Nothing big yet, but continuing echos of the past. Will Contrary seek out what came before? Will she like what she sees if she does find it?

** Start Log **

** Start Contrary Desc **

At six foot eight, Contrary is a big girl with her healthy build mixing a strong musculature and rounded, feminine figure. Her fur is a solid shade of slate gray, short and orderly. Her vulpine features are an exotic addition to an otherwise humanoid body, eyes strange in that the orbs themselves appear to be silver with grey irises that match her hide. Her hair is silvered in hue, long enough to drape her shoulders, yet at the moment it has been pulled back into a bland ponytail.

She wears a solid black shirt over her full chest that leaves her shoulders bare, held up by slim shoulder straps instead. It descends to a point just above her bellybutton, the lower inch and a half of the shirt is trimmed with a ring of shiny silver material. The sleeves descend to her elbows, where the dark fabric ends, only extending loosely a few more inches under her forearms.

A baggy pair of dark blue cargo pants are worn, riding precariously loose on her hips. The legs are dotted with pockets that close with silvered snaps. What holds gravity at bay is a belt composed of chain links. Four links wide it’s made up of silver, golden, brass and bronze colored links in random patterns. Clipped to her right hip is a PDD player, its headphones hooked between her and the player. On her left hip is a six inch long canvas sheath with the tip of a snuggly secured balisong knife peeking out. Half hidden by the just-to-long legs of her jeans are a pair of dark gray sneakers, black laces tied up in double knots.

Her accessories are varied, her triangular ears pierced, the left’s tip holding two rings, one with a small bell and the other with a silvered ankh dangling. The right has three studs of alternating silver and dull gold along each side. Another slight ring pierces her bellybutton, a tiny, quarter inch YinYang charm hung from it. Her wrists are bound by black leather bands that are lined with a double row of silvered studs, her hands bearing a pair of black leather palm gloves. A slim black choker is wrapped about her neck, a small ivory skull mounted at its center, above her throat.

** End Contrary Desc **

“Oui,” Francois says with a light in his eyes. “Now my wife.” The francophone stands beside a massive man in T-11 body armor, inspecting the blast marks left by a recent fight in the area. “The council may reform. Perhaps with th election and some new blood, non? Is it that you have heard of the vampire huntering being run of late? Parfois you might be involved in this?”

Crush shakes his head. “Nope I haven heard about it. Nor do I care. Like I said, if no wrong has been done to me only credits can get my interest. And Congratulations.”

“Merci,” Francois replies. “The vampire hunting is funded by Darkshadow, monsieur. For profit. This is something that is a bit more mercenary than a city job, I think, an in which the equipment is not so expensive as for the tracking of xiticix.”

Contrary is trekking slowly along River Road, looking very much the tourist as she pays avid attention to the buildings around her. Though some of that attention is given to the paper wrapped pastry that she also has a hold of. With a light satchel lightly tapping her back with each step, its strap crossing diagonally over her chest, she has both hands free to hold it while she makes her slow way along.

** Start Crush Desc **

Crush stands about 7 inches over 6 feet. His near shoulder-length hair is dark and unruly just enough to make fingers itch to brush it back. One eye a deep brown. The left one has been replaced with a cybernectic eye that glows red. Crush is also blessed with the curse of eternally youthful good-looks, despite the augmentations. His face is clean shaven as usual.

Always a stickler for physical fitness, Crush has broad shoulders, a V-shaped torso and a physique that doesnt seem to gain fat. His posture is erect. He carries himself with solid confidence that seems to just eminate around him.

Encasing his body is his custom built T-11 Enhanced Body Armor. The helmet would be off while he is in the city. Anyone who glances carefully will notice the left arm was custom fitted to allow the Paticle Beam attached to his Bionic arm to still be expose while allowing the arm to get the most protection from the armor. He carries a knapsack with him which most certainly contains more weapons and his helmet.

** End Crush Desc **

** Start Francois Desc **

Francois stands an unimpressive five and a half feet tall, which aided by his easy-going nature leads many to suspect that he is younger than his twenty years of age. He seems very human in build, with nothing to mark him out of the ordinary. Lined by thin eyebrows and obscured under long eyelashes, his vivid green eyes seek out the little details that make life worth living. Topping this all off is a close-shaved crown of pale green hair, cut military-style.

Francois is wearing a bright blue overshirt, the color of the sky at twilight, unbuttoned around his compact frame. It drifts unbuttoned over a pearly white undershirt that shows a flat stomach. His bared arms are thick and with good tone — he obviously uses them daily. New jet-black jeans complete the ensemble, yet untouched by the graying of age.

He carries a roughly-hewn wooden staff, a slug of silver capping the bottom end and a murky crystal globe on the head. The crystal is held in place with more silver – small pieces in meridian lines around the white globe and a hollow-nosed silver spike at the very top.

** End Francois Desc **

Crush just nods. “Then maybe Ill look for Darkshadow.” He just turns and starts down the street again. Not even offering a farewell. Seems once the big man gets bored he just moves on.

“Or mademoiselle Ankarie,” Francois calls after the overgrown merc, resting his hand on the cobalt pommelstone of the ornate broadsword that sits in its crimson scabbard at his hip. Stepping forward he continues his inspection of the ground, idly rubbing his fingers against one another to try to dislodge the soot that’s accumulated there without having to soil his clothing.

Contrary pauses in the midst of a new bite of her pastry when she looks ahead, just now seeing the damage that has been done to the area. She swallows quickly as her eyes dart, noting the large man in particular here, giving him a wary look. The shorter one in street clothes given less direct attention. Her pace remains slow as a bit of her attention drifts toward the damage again.

Crush doesnt seem to acknowledge Francois’ comment. He just lumbersdown the street in a slow deliberate pace, not bothering to look behind him. A hand does move up to the hemet, unlocking the mechanism so he can readjust it a moment. He doesnt take it off though.