paixaorpg | A puzzling quest [Completed]

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A puzzling quest [Completed]

Character(s): Near, Betelgeuse, Kazama Souji and anyone else who feels like helping Near with his brave quest or just drop by.
Content: Near searches for a toy shop so he can find himself some puzzles.
Setting: Muspelheim area.
Time: Midday
Warnings: None.

Near hadn’t been in this ‘Paixao’ place for very long but he knew enough already. His information hunt on the journals had cleared up his confusion and made him stumble upon some shocking discoveries. Main ones being that L, Mello and Matt were here. Alive. Or as alive as supposed-to-be-dead people could be. Not that he would ever say it out loud, but he was happy. Happy to have some familiar faces around. He wouldn’t have known what to do otherwise. It was strange, yes...very much so. Awkward too but things seemed to have worked out.

The pieces all fit nicely except for one. One piece that didn’t fit in his puzzle and never had fit. Mello. Even now he still couldn’t understand nor predict the blonde boy’s actions. Mello had offered him help. Him, out of all people. He knew Mello would never be his ‘Watari’, he had said so himself. But at least he had helped Near with a start. It was more than he ever could have expected from Mello. It puzzled him. Why? For what benefit? He saw none in it for Mello. He hardly thought he even deserved help from him after all what happened. It showed how unpredictable the other was, as always. It was good to see some things hadn’t changed. Even after death.

He would have to learn how to take care of himself as there was no 'Watari' to look after him here. Starting now. With a sigh he moved away from the fake tree he had been sitting under. He needed something to distract himself with, to keep him busy until the meeting. He needed puzzles, nice blank puzzles or a toy or two. So far he hadn’t been able to locate anything like a toy shop on the map. Peculiar enough a weapon shop seemed to sell plushies...Which really made him wonder where he could find puzzles. Despite wanting nothing more than hole himself up in the room Mello had given him, he moved on into the city. He really wanted those puzzles too and no one was going to look for him.
This was going to be a long day...and he knew his socks would not last long on the concrete.

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If Betelgeuse weren't already dead, one could easily say that his boredom would be the end of him. He hadn't been in Paixao all that long, nor had he maintained a quiet status during that period. Why, with the trouble he had stirred it would be safe to assume he had created quite the impact on the inhabitance on the island. His devilish intentions upon visiting the local hospital for one. Tormenting poor, innocent, patients and sending a number of them to an early grave... It was big news. -yet, nobody knew of the event ever occurring.

Sprawled out across a sparking gold bench, the ghost gazed up the painted sky in aggravation. Things were not turning out as well as he had first planned. Although, he had still harnessed a decent number of screams from his victims. It was more than enough to get him by, pumping him with a share of excitement and encouragement. He was a master at his trade.

A pale, white, hand threw itself up, clutching the back to the bench as the limbs owner gave out what sounded like a snarl. Applying pressure to the golden pew, it began to bend under the brightly painted finger nails. For the moment, it was the only way Betelgeuse could express his frustration without sitting up.

His head turned to the side, a frown across his dark features before suddenly taking note of a particular individual among the crowd of passing people. A small boy, heavily clothed in nothing but white. Why, he looked as if he were dressed for bed, if nothing else. He looked completely innocent to the untrained eye, and to the ghosts, a new victim.

Pulling himself up with ease, the deceased being could soon be found levitating closely behind Near. He hadn't bothered to change from his filthy, old, trench coat, and other rag like clothes for the little detective. It made him appear as if he had recently crawled out of the ground all the more. Not that his clothes really made him appear any less dead in the end, but still.

Towering over the boy, a coarse chuckle escaped his throat before a tainted voice began to speak.

"And, just where do you think you're going?"

Near hadn't even noticed someone was behind him until he heard a chuckle. His body tensed up immediately as he turned around to face whomever had approached him.
His gaze fell on the person who apparently couldn't keep his nose out of other people's business noticing he looked very much like something that crawled out of the sewer and rather...dead. No, he obviously looked like someone who was supposed to be dead. The appearance of this person send his brain reeling with thoughts he'd rather not have. What if Mello and Matt looked like that? It would not be a pretty sight...Especially Matt who had been run through with god-knows how many bullets. He could feel something twist in his stomach and suddenly he didn't really look forward to their meeting as much as before.

Despite the initial shock and inner turmoil, his face betrayed nothing. It remained perfectly blank save for maybe the slightest hint of a glare.

"It is none of your business."

With that statement he turned around to continue on his way. And Mello wondered why he never went outside? There had been a very good reason why standing right behind him. Although he doubted someone would meet dead...hobos every day. It was still a reason nonetheless.

{ooc: Sorry about the late reply. D: I was on an unannounced little hiatus because of an important assignment I had to get done and since it was rather short I figured it would be pointless to post a notice. ><;.}

His smile twisted further across his features as he watched the boy turn and face him. The look of horror was priceless... Or would have been if Near had actually shown it. Why, not even the slightest sign of distress appeared to slip through. The blonde being simply stood there blankly, easily striking a nerve as the ghost waited for something, anything from the boy! It didn't even have to be fright to please him at this point. A mer morsel of terror would have been enough to satisfy him.

He felt as if he were being mocked. It may have just been a coincidence, a string of bad luck that his victims provided more of a challenge here. Not that there was nothing wrong with such thing, Betelgeuse enjoyed cracking the toughest of shells. But his currently short temper left little room for even considering such thoughts at the moment.

Gracelessly falling from the air as Near turned his back on him, the corpse landed on his rump, growling at successor. How dare he treat him, the most wicked, horrid, and mercilessly ghost in the last millennium in such a manor.

"Why, you little brat," he began angrily, his fist violently slamming against the ground with great force. Such action performed by the great being had cause the earth to crack beneath his fist, rapidly following the boy. It was within seconds the ground Nears feet began to groan, tearing apart, and hopefully making it difficult for the boy to carry on. It was in Betelgeuse's intentions to leave the blonde stranded on a small piece of land, far from the regular ground that would keep him stationary. -assuming Near wasn't a great jumper, that is.

Raising to his feet, the mans coat twisted around his body, breathing of life as it's colour changed to a familiar black and white stripe pattern. It's shape took on one of a loose fitting suit, equally as filthy as his last outfit, but at least more formal.

A grin appeared across his lips as he gave satisfied sigh, regaining his composure. He was defiantly angry, and indeed lost his 'cool'. But, he could use that anger and frustration to his advantage. Throwing his head back to laugh he began a slow approach toward his victim before suddenly appearing in front of him.

Invading Near's personal space in a very short amount of time, he thrust his head forward, his rotting, yellow teeth before the boys eye as he spoke releasing the most foul of odors from his mouth.

"It's as much business as I want it to be... Didn't anyone ever teach you to respect your elders? Or am I going to have to teach you myself?"

[ooc:Perfectly alright, don't worry about it.]

If this wasn't hell, then it certainly was something close.

Kazama had spent most of the previous few days scouting the city and mapping it in his mind - taking note of the dominance of the same, blank, blue-eyed blondes and complete lack of living creatures - and was now lost as for what to do. Even during his life (he was having the hardest time getting used to the fact that he was alive again. After being killed. Something strange beyond his belief) he had not had much of a purpose except for the war waged on the government and now that he couldn't return to that battlefield....well, his natural apathy for everything took over.

Though, some small part of him (most likely the terrorist bit) still wanted to continue the fight for justice (as cheesy as it sounded), and he wasn't a bad human being, really, when one looked at the essentials. Which was why, when he spotted the strange man (what were with those clothes? A homeless?) seemingly terrorizing the younger boy (white hair, and albino?), he took a long moment of hesitation, then decided that (hell, he was dead anyway) to intervene. The cracking of the ground (more supernatural factors, he decided not to dwell on them for now, it only confused matters) suggested that this would involve violence, possibly. By way of a bullet.

His sniper rifle would be cumbersome at this distance, so instead, he drew his handgun (one of the Glock models; not quite his favorite, but not bad, either), holding it tight as he dashed the short distance towards where the two figures were (internally questioning himself as to what the hell he was doing) and placed himself just to the side between the two, the gun giving a sharp click as he cocked it, aimed directly between Betelguese's eyes.

His voice was sharp and low as he spoke, scrutinizing the ragged apparition with cautious wariness. "A selfish whim to torment an innocent with."

{ooc: Woo! /o/}

The sound of something cracking brought his attention to the ground and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of the ground around him cracking and tearing open. Earthquake? No, his quick analyzing told him that it in fact was not an earthquake, there was no rumble and it seemed to only follow him. He would have liked to make a run for it but it was too late, the gap was already too big a distance and he couldn't jump that far.

Just when he was starting to think of a way to get 'out' a foul odor hit him in the face and suddenly the homeless guy was standing right in front of him. Near stumbled back, having his personal space bubble invaded was something he did not appreciate. He preferred it if people just stayed a good distance away from him. How did the guy get to him so suddenly? More importantly the outfit Betelgeuse was wearing was something he heard of before. Guys in striped suits...

"You...what did you do to Matt?"

He was about to answer the question about elders, to him the only elder he had was L. He didn't care about the rest. But the click of a gun quickly snapped his attention away. He looked to the side, almost expecting Mello to stand there with a gun pointing at him. Instead there was someone else standing there with the gun pointed at Betelgeuse, much to his relief.

Despite all the commotion his expression had remained as blank as always, his voice still controlled if not a little strained. The only thing that changed was the rhythm of his heartbeat which had gone a bit faster than usual but Near was careful to conceal it under his emotionless demeanor. Fear would only serve as a provocation.

So it seemed he did have an identity among the other islanders after all. Some form of word had managed to get out and for the first time upon arriving, he was recognized. Wither it was by his revolting oder, superhuman abilities, or unmistakable striped suit someone had identified him which was enough to shoot his enthusiasm through the roof. He was happy now.

He was even happier to hear one of his most recent victims had gone off running their mouth about the experience. The scare he'd given Matt had apparently stuck with him, good. The ghost felt a glimmer of pride to know he'd made such an impact on the man causing his smile to inch bigger.

Opening his mouth to respond to the boys question, Betelgeuse was interrupted by the soft click of a guns barrel locking into place. Both of his dark brows rose in surprise as he found a guest had joined their conversation, pointing a gun directly at his head.

Slowly raising his hands up over his head where the gunman could see them, the white demon smirked. "What do you plan to do with that? Shoot me?" He laughed, a number of snorts escaping him. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm already dead!"

Kazama ignored the ghost's laughter, answering the haughty snorts with a sharp glare. Either this man was completely insane (which he hoped was true), or telling the truth (which made him instantly regret his actions). In either case, as with any situation, it would be the first priority to get the non-combatants out of shooting range. Still keeping his eyes trained on Betelguese - his finger lay on the trigger, ready to pull in a split second at the first sign of danger - he spoke quietly to Near, his voice low and heavy with tension. "Get away from here." His tone added, without words, 'As quickly as possible. Preferrably now.'

Hoping that the white-haired boy would abide the advice, he returned his attention to the fiend at hand, scrutinizing Betelguese closely. "Dead or not, having your head blown to bits would not be pleasant, I imagine." Though the words were delivered in a flat monotone, they dripped with a sort of morbid amusement. It felt odd saying that when he himself was dead. (The lack of bullet holes in his body made it only stranger.)

A two dead-man faceoff. The irony and surreality of the situation were stifling.

Near was a little annoyed at his question going unanswered. Despite not knowing Matt all that well, he knew it would take a lot to scare him. He could tell Matt had been scared otherwise he wouldn't have given a warning. It made him wonder what this dead man had done although he had the feeling he'd rather not find out himself. Perhaps he'd try asking Matt about it again later.

He nodded at the young man, hopefully now that Betelgeuse was distracted he could make a safe escape. Getting caught in gunfire did not seem very appealing. Analyzing his options, Near promptly turned and started running back the way he came (best to stick to surroundings at least a bit familiar). Running wasn't all that easy on him however. The way the concrete kept hitting his feet was starting to hurt rather quickly considering he wore only socks. That and Near was not used to running around having always sat inside. But he would just have to endure it until he was a good distance away. He hoped the gunman would be alright, it was kind of him to go out of his way and help him out. He doubted any of the locals would have done that, they just seemed to walk right by or just blatantly stare regardless of how dire the situation might appear to be.

Now, what to do first? There were so many options as to how to respond to the gun man, he couldn't decide on which to choose. He could always do all at once, but that would ruin the big finally. Going out with a big bang was crustal. Best not to waste the best tricks at the start. Then again, for him to run out of such was merely impossible. Merely. There was a way... But that need not concern the mans from the ghosts point of view.

Keeping a shocked expression across his features, his mouth hung open, eyes large, he looked over his 'captor', momentarily caught in a daze. The short conversation held between the two living beings was completely missed by his maggot filled ears. Possibly due to the very fact that there were maggots in his ears. The other being his own thoughts, plans that filled him with over coming excitement.

Blinking a few times, Betelgeuse looked momentarily offended, stumbling back a few steps in mock shock. "You'd actually kill an innocent man like me? Well..." His lips curled, a chilling grin appearing as he stepped forward. "Go ahead, try it. Gimmie your best shot."

Already, he'd taken control of the situation, tampering with his opponents fire arm without so much as laying a finger on it. The moment that trigger was to be pulled, nothing more than a small pole shoot out, a banner unraveling itself to read 'BANG!' in large, bold lettering. He'd made a well know killing device into a mer toy with no more than a wink of an eye.

That wasn't the end of it though. Nay, it was far from it. He would make much more than just a mockery of this man for making him loose his young victim. Not that he minded. Some how, he had a feeling that this guy would be far more entertaining.

Giving little time for Souji to recover, the ghost could be found suddenly sporting a full out cowboy get up: chaps (thankfully with something beneath), a furry cow spotted jacket, a large buckled belted with holsters, a red bandanna tied nearly around his neck, and a pair of black cowboy boots with stars shaped spurs the size of fists attached to the back of them. A black leather hat covered his eyes, forcing him to tip it up with a brightly painted, red finger nail in order to see.

His 'Sheriff' star shone in the sun as his gaze traveled up ward. A deep breath was taken in as he soon adapted a southern accent. "I reckon you ain't be a part of this town, partner? In these parts we take meddlin' as a serious offense."

With one swift action, his hand flew down to his gun holster. Instead of picking up a weapon though, his hand took the shape of a commonly impersonated gun with his index finger pointing out toward his opponent, his thumb toward the clouds above. "Reach for the sky! Ker-pow!"

Kazama's trousers suddenly dropped down without warning revealing his undergarments.

He pulled the trigger of his gun at the ghost's sudden change of attire, more out of startled reflex than anything else (though he certainly had no qualms about having done so), eyes widening when what was expelled from the gun wasn't a bullet, but, rather a childish prank. What the-- Before his mind could complete its shocked train of thought, though, he felt his pants drop.

"Tch!" Forgetting his dignity for the moment, he instead threw his now-useless gun at Betelguese (if anything, it would have been a useful projectile), then reached into the pocket of his jacket, withdrawing a smoke grenade. A quick flick of the pin, and, when he cast it to the ground, it immediately flooded the surrounding area with a thick white smoke, hissing loudly, obscuring all visibility. A few of the city's inhabitants would probably find themselves lost in the smog, but the smoke would clear in a bit. No permanent damage.

It was clear that the other had no intentions of a serious fight, and Kazama had no reason to go after one. As long as the boy had gotten away, he didn't want to linger. Taking advantage of the smokescreen, he quickly righted his clothing, hitching up his bandanna (the smoke wasn't toxic, but it would hurt to breathe too much), and glanced in the direction Near had gone. Hopefully, he had gotten far away enough.

Taking into account the possibilities of pursuit (it would be stupid to accidentally lead Betelguese back to Near), he hitched up his rifle, then sprinted in the opposite direction, navigating his way through the smoke away from the ghost.

Blowing the inviable smoke from his pistol, Betelgeuse began to laugh in amusement. His head slung back as he stumbled backward, unable to control his wild laughter. For such a minor act, the look on the mans face had been utterly priceless. He wouldn't be forgetting that any time soon. Nor would Kazama, hopefully. It wasn't every day such events occurred.

But that was as far as the ghost could go when it came to praising himself, for he was suddenly coughing. Not from his laughter though, although it was partially to blame. It seemed while he was busy congratulating himself, his victim had released some form of thick white smoke across the playing field. "Whoa! What the-?! Where'd you go? OW! Hey! HEY! Didn't anybody ever teach yeah not to throw your toys around?"

Coughing several times, he look a moment to regain himself before taking in a deep breath. It was then a reenactment of the classic tale 'Three Little Pigs' occurred: the wolf huffing, puffing, and blowing down one of the poor piglets houses down. Although, in this case it might not have been straw or sticks, it was still impressive to say the least. With ease, the entire area was cleared of the smoke.

Clothed once again in his black and white striped suit, the filthy fiend struck a graceful pose that one would expect to see from a figure skater gliding across a frozen patch of water. Now, as anyone could tell, there was no ice present, but that didn't limit Betelgeuse the slightest from racing toward the gunmen. Nor did it force him to move so much as a muscle in the process. None except the ones in his lips, of course.

He flew across the strands of golden grass, eventually putting in the effort to move his legs and skate around the fleeing man in order to get better sight of him. It was then the ghost could be found striking yet another pose. Unlike his first, grace and beauty were greatly lacking. Actually, it looked as if he had hurt himself in the process of kicking his leg up. Another impersonated gun could be found under the raised leg, pointing at Kazama as the deceased being snapped his head in his direction.

"BOOM, Baby!"

If being pantsed hadn't been embarrassing enough, this had to take the cake. Kazama could now find himself dressed in a tight, form fitting dress. A blue bow that matched the dress in colour rested in his hair along with a purse thrown over his shoulder. A pair of black high heels and a splash of make up completed the transformation to 'Paixao's Next Top Model' causing Betelgeuse to whistle out.

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A puzzling quest [Completed]

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