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Post by Presto on Jul 6, 2010 11:53:36 GMT -5
[ Several Months Ago ]
The streets of New Port city haven't been safe now for many years, it's become a fact that the citizens have come to accept as time goes by. Even Michael Santino had to accept the simple fact of the way the city was... Of course, for him the threats on the streets weren't nearly as dangerous.
It was the end of another usual day. The few people that stayed around the YMCA was already begining to make their way out as well, some of the younger kids waving out as they passed, "See you later, Mr. Santino" "Take care." "See you later."
It was such a change from his former life... Wandering the globe, fighting strong opponents, testing his mettle against other world class martial artists. 6 years ago he had been known as 'The Saint', but now he was just Mr. Santino, another joe working at the YMCA, with a family at home waiting for him... Though today, an uneasy sensation would hang in the air.
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Post by WildKnight on Jul 7, 2010 18:16:01 GMT -5
Michael did his best to ignore the bad feelings. He was done with that life. It wasn't as if his instincts didn't kick in all the time. He could almost smell the bad guys, but he let them go about their lives, just like he was going about his. Some days he rode the bus home, even though it was only a few blocks, but nights like this he chose to walk. It helped clear his head.
Hands stuffed in his pockets, he hurried home.
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Post by Presto on Jul 7, 2010 19:08:14 GMT -5
The sounds of the city were the same as usual, distant scuffling, sounds of gunfire from televisions playing too loud in nearby apartments, the dull roar of passing vehicles with their headlights whizzing past like birds of light, carrying them to whatever place they called home.
Even the sound of the sirens were fairly mundane. It indicated the police were active somewhere, they always were... It was a constant battle on the streets to keep the peace, and no matter how hard they tried, no matter how many of their limited police force they put on the streets, there was always more crime than they could handle.
What wasn't expected however was the red and blue flashing lights... Police cars, and an Ambulance, parked infront of the apartment building Michael called home. Police interrogating people, asking what they knew... And standing there in the front of the building was one of Michaels neighbors. She glanced up from the police officer who was asking her question and gazed you directly in the eyes, tears of pity filled in them as she shook her head sorrowfully.
Seeing her looking up, the cop turned you're way and mumbled something to her, to which she nodded.. Sending him walking towards him. "Mr. Michael Santino...? I'm... I'm sorry." He said, obviously uncomfortable with what he had to say... if he even needed to say it.
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Post by WildKnight on Jul 19, 2010 12:03:30 GMT -5
Michael didn't answer. He just shook his head and put a hand up to ward the police officer away. Then he broke into motion, running toward the house, using his acrobatic skills to both evade and mislead the police. He needed to get inside, to see for himself. ****************************************************** (Using Acrobatics w/Acrobatic Bluff Feat to "fake out" the cops and get past them, into the house: 18 total on the die roll) invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2613769/ |
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Post by Presto on Aug 8, 2010 12:14:37 GMT -5
The police tried to stop him, particularly those who were unaware of who he was... Trying to restrain him, or stop him from running in. Unfortunately not a single officer was capable of overcoming Michaels honed reflexes, even after years of being 'retired'... He was still a skilled martial artist.
Inside was hell... Bodies were already being loaded up, the bodies of his family... Dead. Blood was on the floor and furniture, and stabbed onto the door was a long crooked knife with a piece of faded parchment scrawled with the symbol for the Singh Brotherhood.
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Post by Presto on Oct 1, 2010 18:30:25 GMT -5
[ Months Later ]
The Singh Brotherhood, a name known only too well to the man who was once known as The Saint. To him, he knew it as an ancient order of assasin's whose origins tie back into those of his own order... When they had splintered apart based on a difference in idealogies.
Unfortunately to the police of New Port City, they were just another gang with no recognizable ties... Despite investigation, there was no real leads on the Brotherhood, no official files, no individuals in the city with any ties... Nothing. Sadly, the murder became one of the many unsolved mysteries of the city, leaving Michael just another living victim.
His neighbors oftenly tried to share their condolences. Everyone knew how hard the city was, and how it got even harder as Michael was forced to eventually retire due to his grief... Losing his only job and connection to the outside world.
One such neighbor was an older african american woman who lived with her grandson. A bright and clever young man who worked at the local grocers after school, and offered to deliver groceries for Mr. Santino weekly for a a little tip... Saying he was trying to save up to go to law school after.
For months it would become a rather common occurence, of the boy named Lincoln, coming by with groceries.. and trying to strike up a conversation. Wanting to talk about his past, help him to open up as he talked about alot of people who used to study under him worried about him.
Then however, one week he didn't seem quite as talkative. Almost preoccupied and concerned... as he just seemed to want to quickly drop off the groceries and go somewhere else. It might have been overlooked to anyone else, but to Michael... He could see the way his hands shook, he was almost scared of something. And sure enough, once the groceries were dropped off, he turned to leave. But instead of heading to his grandmothers apartment like usual, he seemed to be going somewhere else.
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