Start the music

[Anolean Ezel]

"P--Please, stop. I'm sorry I played the music. But please let him go! He didn't do anything wrong!" Said a young girl around the age of thirteen that was currently sitting on the floor of the music room, holding the fine pants leg of Anolean Ezel.

In his left hand was the neck of a slave boy, around the age of fourteen. The said human child was turning red in the and not because of rage. It was simply because the older boogie was cutting his air supplies off little by little.

Now how did a scene like this suddenly take place? Simple really. Anolean was out, looking for any signs of events that might need his---assistance. Well, one scene did take place. He had caught sight of a young man hanging about the music room, the from that room came drifting out the notes of music. Anolean personally hated music and went to put a stop too it.

To bad the young male was rather vocal on the matter when Anolean promptly smashed his cane into the piano, causing a rather large dent, and demand the music come to an end as politely as a boogie could.

So sad the young man tired to defend the girl and point out nothing was wrong with music and if he had an issue with it then then he should take it up with him and not the girl. The boy seriously needed to work on his conversation skills with a boogie such as Anolean who did not tolerate smart mouthed humans or the type that talked back---or threatened him with Rebel talk.

So now we go back to the scene of Anolean, having slammed the young man into the wall and holding him well above the ground with a young girl crying out.

"Tell me," said Ano, "Why should I spare the life of a human boy, that speaks of troublesome things, such as the humans rebelling?" Asked Ano as he stared into the eyes of the human boy. Those eyes where far to challenging. He should correct them.

The right hand that held his cane within his hand popped slightly. Yes, he would fix those eyes.

[Ryan Cardwell]

On this fine and gloomy day here in his beloved Wonderland, Tristan was busy wandering around the palace. At the moment he was unsure of what to do with his day. Ai was off somewhere, and he was sure Ashton was up to some form of mischief. Even Naelona wasn't around to read him his pedigree, for once. That really was something right there, the woman never missed an opportunity to go over the extensive list of errors in his life. Whether it be letting them stuff themselves from the kitchens or merely borrowing five for a good night of 'fun', she always found something about him to criticize. She was a true artist in the field of bitching.

Ah well. Despite his rantings, he couldn't honestly say he disliked her. There was just something about her that struck a chord with him. That was something that his conscious mind would never be able to figure out. Which is why he never dwelled on the matter much. It never got him anywhere, just made his head hurt. Then he'd end up at the club emptying his pockets and bringing home a few little humans, only for the ranting to commence the next morning. It was quite the paradox really, though he wasn't particularly concerned with it. He rarely ever worried about the affairs of his own race, even when they directly concerned him.

About now he was wandering down the hall to the music lounge. He was thinking he was in the mood for a bit of Beethoven, this human fellow he'd met one time a few hundred years back. The man was rather eccentric, but he was a brilliant composer. Tristan simply loved his work, especially when he got to lay around while a little mini orchestra of humans performed it. That was one of his many pleasure as a boogie, being able to get the humans to do whatever he wanted, even if he did bribe then.

He was just reaching the doors when he heard voices from inside, and not happy voices. That brought a frown to his face, he hadn't been planning for any boogies to be there. Tristan was enjoying himself, the last thing he needed was one of his kind ruining his day. Nevertheless he pushed the doors open, stopping short as he the little girl crying her eyes out as the boy was slammed against the hall. Please tell me this isn't what I think it is...

"Tell me, Why should I spare the life of a human boy, that speaks of troublesome things, such as the humans rebelling?"

Well fuck. He could have gone his entire day without this, it just ruined the whole thing. The boogies face went dark, hardening as his temper got the better of him. His long stride easily carried him across the room, and within moments he was standing next to the other boogie. His arm came up, gabbing the man's wrist and mashing it in his powerful grip. There was absolutely no mercy in his eyes as he quietly snarled. "Tell me. Why should I spare the life of a worthless no account that has nothing better to do than be an ass?" Yeah. He was pissed.

[Anolean Ezel]

Anolean waited but no answer came from the girl other then complete and utter sobs. He hated sobbing it was so annoying and did nothing. The man narrowed his eyes and looked back at the human who was suffocating. The dark haired twin of Naelona was about to speak when he felt a hand touch his wrist and the mash it. It hurt, but Anolean did not drop the human boy and only tightened his grip.

The human girl looked up at Tristan and changed her tactics, "C--Can---Help him?" She cried as she brought her face down into his hands. Anolean looked at the hand and then to Tristan. His free hand finished flicking the end of his cane off, then he brought it up to Tristan's eye level before placing the undressed blade under his chin.

Surprise, Anolean had a cane sword.

"Tell me. Why should I spare the life of a worthless no account that has nothing better to do than be an ass?"

"And who might you be," He asked, tapping his strong blade under the other boogies chin and then poking him in the throat, drawling a small line of blood. The blade proved rather sharp. "I don't believe the human is yours and thus you have no say in what I do with him. Now release my hand...after all...you are killing the lad." Anolean chuckled, his hand growing tighter then ever. The young boy gasped for air like that of a fish out of water, his eyes rolling back in his head.

[Ryan Cardwell]

"C--Can---Help him?"

For a brief moment he turned his head towards the girl, flashing her a comforting smile. He fully intended to do just that, why else would he be here? Well, he'd come for a bit of relaxation but that was beside the point. The point was that he wasn't going to stand by and let this jackass, whoever the hell he was, kill this child for what was most likely some trivial matter. Even if it was a good reason, he would have stepped in. Only once had he ever allowed a human to come to harm, and he'd spent the entire week in the bar. It was true that the girl more than deserved her fate, but it still killed him to do so.

Much to his expectation, the man began brandishing a weapon at him. He'd supposed as much, none of these pathetic cretins these days knew anything of honor or fighting fairly. And if the man hoped to intimidate him, he was going to be sorely disappointed. Tristan just scoffed at the show, completely ignoring the lethal instrument. If there was one thing that he could never be blamed for having, it was modesty. He'd never once lost out in the field of combat, and it came for good reason. Tristan was a survivor, born in the times when one actually had to work to stay alive. As such he was far and beyond most all born in these modern times. And he didn't hesitate to make it known.

"And who might you be,"

Again, he paid the boogie no mind as the sharp sword point pierced into his neck. It was but a meager show of force, meant to frighten him into backing down. Unfortunately for him Tristan Blackthorne wasn't quite so easily set on the run. If this man wanted him gone, then he was going to have to do quite a bit more than he thought. And so he just sneered at him, a ring of disgust in his voice. "What business is it of yours?" Of course he wasn't going to spill his guts. It wasn't that he gave a damn, why should he care if the boogie knew his name? It wasn't as if he could do anything with it. No, he was just being belligerent. Why? Because he could that's why.

"I don't believe the human is yours and thus you have no say in what I do with him. Now release my hand...after all...you are killing the lad."

That just brought a growl from him, though a bit of reluctance was growing in his mind. He had no idea how long this boogie could last before his pain threshold was crossed. Hell for all he knew the bastard could be a masochist. If that was the case, then he had no choice but to back down. Proceeding with his current course would only mean certain death for the child. But then, if he backed away the boy would probably die anyway. This of course rather limited his options. In the end he went with the practical approach, e.g. breaking the fuckers arm. "Now why would I want to do that? Especially when it's so much easier to just snap it like a twig." His voice was low and cold as he spoke. And his hand squeezed the wrist ever tighter, showing that his words were more than some idle threat.

[Anolean Ezel]

"What business is it of yours?"

Anolean smiled softly and it was not pleasent by far, "My business is my own." Anolean was an ass really but he didn't care, he found this all oddly amusing. Pain or no pain.

Anolean watched the boogie for a moment, as the shadow beneath the boy quivered. Ah, how pleasent. It seems as if they where not alone in the long shot. Anolean sighed softly. "You are such an unpleasent Boogie." He stated as he felt the pain in his arm, it was most...uncomfortable. But he could with stand it easily. Pain never really bothered the older twin.

"Now why would I want to do that? Especially when it's so much easier to just snap it like a twig."

The pale man raised a brow as he heard his bones grind together in a most interesting fashion that oddly enough, pleased him. Anolean chuckled lightly. "Very well then, you win. I shall release the boy." Anolean looked at Tristan with a sweet smile, but his eyes said a different story and Tristan would of noticed that if the boogies gray eyes were not closed.

Slowly, he released the boy and dropped him. Dropped him straight down into the shadows in which a great paw came out and slammed into the boys shoulder. A large mouth with sharp teeth formed then and crunched into the human's windpipes destorying any sudden cry he might of had. Then, the boy disappeared into the shadow. A pair of glowing eyes looked at Tristan and then vanished as the sounds of bones crunching and ripping echoed in the shadow like it was a deep and empty tunnel.

Then it vanished.

"Well," said Ano, "I did let him go. Seem's someone's familiar is rather hungry though. Sad really." He looked towards the girl who was pale, her face locked in a silent scream. She had played the game poorly. To bad. "Now release me before I cut your arm off and send it to the Elders for identification. And believe me, I have the power to do so."

[Ryan Cardwell]

"My business is my own. You are such an unpleasent Boogie."

Well now, it seemed that he wasn't liked. That did a bit to improve his mood. The thought that this boogie was unable to come to terms with what he was dealing with, quite frankly tickled the hell out of Tristan. He rather disliked the majority of his race, and was beginning to quite thoroughly despise the one before him. The man was quite simply a smartass bastard, and there was just something about him that instantly raised Tristan's ire. Had he not first met him in a situation such as this, he highly doubted he'd have been able to stand him anyways. There was just something about him.....something that was eerily familiar. He couldn't quite place it but it was there. And he didn't like it.

"Very well then, you win. I shall release the boy."

He should have known those words to have a poisoned meaning. No sooner had the boogie released the boy than something reached through the darkness, killing the small child. Needless to say, Tristan was rather badly shaken. Not by the cat of course, but because he'd failed to save the child. Nevertheless he maintained his rock hard exterior, appearing cold as stone despite how badly he was tore up on the inside. "That was a bad mistake...." He couldn't have been more terrifying if he'd tried, his voice taking on a tone so soft and dark that it would have been more than enough to frighten quite a few people to their deaths. Tristan was not happy at all, and he fully intended to give this bastard a lesson he'd never forget, if he lived long enough to remember it that is.

"Well, I did let him go. Seem's someone's familiar is rather hungry though. Sad really."

At that very moment an eerie howl sounded through the palace, sending all who knew its origin fleeing for their rooms. Tristan however smiled at the man before him coldly, a silent fire burning within his eyes. "It seems that someone won't have to worry about keeping said familiar fed much longer." That quite obviously meant that whatever let out that howl was after the feline familiar that had just erupted from the floor. He knew what it was, and he knew that the cat had little chance of escaping without at least some wound. Moon was on the hunt, and she never lost her quarry.

"Now release me before I cut your arm off and send it to the Elders for identification. And believe me, I have the power to do so."

The elders? Was this idiot joking? The elders were a joke, a bunch of washed up nut jobs that thought they could manage this circus. Hell, the last time he'd cared to check, half of them weren't even as old as he. Some elders. "And just what the hell makes you think give a damn what either you or those hacks think you can do?" Though some may have followed the rantings of those doddering fools Tristan had no respect, let alone obedience, for they or their so called 'laws'. That may have been one of the reasons he was out of favor with the majority of Wonderland, though he didn't particularly give a damn. No one had tried to do anything about him (except of course Naelona, but he didn't count her in this instance), and afterall what could they? He was more than able to slaughter them, and he was far more than willing. All he needed was an excuse.