The Dark Saint (Open)

[St. George]

Say your prayers little one
Dont forget, my son
To include everyone
Tuck you in, warm within
keep you free from sin
till the sandman he comes
sleep with one eye open
gripping your pillow tight

Somethings wrong, shut the light
heavy thoughts tonight
And they aren't of snow white
dreams of war, dreams of liars
dreams of dragon's fire
and of things that will bite
sleep with one eye open
gripping your pillow tight

George St. Owens slipped through the alleys and by-ways of Mushroom City. He had a feeling that... something would happen tonight. He was feeling restless, and the memory of his deceased wife drove him to action once more.

He didn't know what fate had in store for him tonight, whether he would meet an enemy or an ally, or some one else. Either way he still carried his broadsword, and his gun with his cloak full of grenades.

Please keep me steadfast and wary of the traps of evil. Keep me prepared for what may be in store.

[Ballari O'Brian]

Though I've tried, I've fallen...
I have sunk so low
I have messed up
Better I should know
So don't come round here
And tell me I told you so...

Ballari was really getting tired of rough clients. After a year or so of selling herself, one would have thought she would be able to pick out which men were going to be rough; she couldn't afford to go home, to her beloved son, with bruises and cuts littering her body. But even with all her (disgusting) experience, she still wasn't able to pick the bad ones out.

And now it was messing with her health.

She was paler than ever, with dark bruises and cuts on her form. She would be able to hide most of this from her son with a bit of make up. He wouldn't be able to notice unless he looked really close, but Ballari knew he wouldn't have time for that. He had to get ready for school, after all. Once he was at school, safe out of harm's way, she would be able to rest and clean up.

Pulling off her cloak, Ballari shoved the disgusting pink outfit into her bag. She then shuddered, closing the bag so she wouldn't even have to look at it anymore; not until her next shift. She may have needed the money that selling her body brought, but that didn't mean she enjoyed any of it.

She was actually sitting a bus stop, waiting to go home, when she saw him. He was an elderly man, and that made Ballari worry almost immediately. She stood, figuring the bus wouldn't be there for another ten or so minutes, and started over towards him.

"Sir," she called, "sir, are you lost?" She lowered her voice as she said, "It's not safe to be out in this part of town so late at night."

[St. George]

When he heard a voice behind him he reached for his broadsword and spun towards the sound. He replaced the sword in it's sheath. Like so many others she appeared to believe him weak, because of his apparent age. George smirked to himself a bit.

"That may be so, but thosee who prey upon the weak may find themselves prey if they try to test their mettle against me."

Then he got a better look at her. She looked haggard and bruised, Geirge felt compassion for her. He reached into his cloak and found a potion, he carried many with him in order to buy information and allies.

"Take this. It will help you feel better. Consider it either as charity, a gift, or as repayment for your good hearted, yet unnecessary advice"

[Ballari O'Brian]

When she saw the sword, Ballari skittered back a few steps, eyeing the weapon. Apparently the elderly man was much stronger and tougher than he appeared, and Ballari was sure he could take care of himself. Still, she didn't feel right about leaving someone out by himself in this part of town. 

It was dangerous, even for the most hardened of people. 

He offered her out a bottle of some sort of liquid, and the young woman stared at it for a moment. She knew it would be rude to refuse it, but Ballari also knew it wasn't safe to trust anyone in this day and age. Not even old men. Still, the lessons ingrained in her mind as a child kicked in, and she took the bottle with a smile. 

"Thank you, sir," she said, placing the bottle in her bag, laying it carefully on top of her Shy Guy cloak. That would keep it from smashing against something or rolling out and shattering. It was always rude to break a gift, even if you had no idea what it was. 

"Why are you out so late, sir?"

[St. George]

"I am here to combat the forces which prey on the innocent."

He wouldn't mention his personal vendetta against the Koopa mafia. Firstly the woman might be connected with the mafia, and it wouldn't do to tip his hand. Also it wouldn't do to involve some one else in his personal struggle.

He also appreciated her caution in dealing with his gift. Of course the caution was completely unnecessary, but he could tell she was smart. He took out a cigarette and started smoking it.

"If it offends you I shall put it out and smoke somewhere else, but I hope you will permit me one vice."

Yes he was chivalrous, however he was a brutal merciless enemy to those who opposed him.

[Ballari O'Brian]

Ballari shook her head, waving off the cigarette casually. She didn't really care that he was smoking in front of her; she had been exposed to a lot worse than that in just the last few hours. If the gentleman wanted to smoke, then who was she to deny him that option?

"No sir, I don't mind," she assured him, reaching up to tug her jacket tighter around herself. "We all have our few little vices, do we not? It is sad that most if those around here have vices much worse than just tabacco." 

Shifting the bag on her shoulder,  Ballari offered out a delicate hand, "Ballari O'Brian, sir."

[St. George]

"Yes sad and sickening."

He took her hand and shook it. "George. Though some call me Saint George. But if you want to contact me when I'm not out avenging the innocent, you can reach me here."

He handed her a card which read "George St. Owens, Potions and mushrooms."

It then included his address and phone number. He wasn't coming onto her, he didn't care for romance since Sylvia died. Now his heart burned with vengeance not love, or even lust. But that didn't mean he couldn't have allies or even friends.

"Hey You twos."

George turned to see a rather large group of Koopa Troopas. "Yeah I'm talkin' to you, da geezer and da goil. It ain't safe for youz ta be walkin out at this time of night. Perhaps if ya pays us enough we can "protect" ya."

The other Koopas snickered and didn't notice George reaching into his coat...

[Ballari O'Brian]

Ballari took the card with a quiet thank you, looking it over before sliding it gently into her bag. It would be useful to have an ally in this world, other than the Shy Guys she had allied herself with. She had no real friends in this world, only her son, but allies were something she could use. 

When the Koopas appeared, Ballari took a step backwards, reaching into her bag. She always kept a blaster in her bag, just in case clients got too rough. Or someone tried to take without paying...or asking her permission. She had only used it once, but that didn't mean she didn't know how to use it. 

All Shy Guys knew how to use a weapon.

"I am afraid we do not require your protection," Ballari tightened her grip on her gun, thumb touching the safety, "You see, the bus will be here soon, and then we will be out of here. Not that it matters, seeing as how you're out of your territory."

[St. George]

The Koopas just laughed. "A lot of things can happen to people who are waiting for da bus."

"Just like a lot of things can happen to those who prey on the innocent." George pulled a grenade out of his coat and lobbed it at the Koopas. Several of them were now frozen.

He pulled out his broadsword. "It's that George guy!"

George smiled, the light of battle glowing in his eyes. " I see that my reputation is starting to precede me. But do you punks feel lucky? Do ya?"

[Ballari O'Brian]

When the gentleman pulled out a grenade, Ballari froze. She obviously wasn't in the company of any normal man; normal people didn't try to take on the Koopas. Normal people either hunored them, or gave in, or ignored them. But this guy was intent on fighting them.

Just for safety, Ballari pulled out her blaster; a weapon she had bought (illegally, mind you) from a couple of men just down the way from her current location. It beat any gun, let me tell you. And Bal loved it.

"I suggest you just run," she murmured, switching the safety off of her weapon. If the gentleman could do something like that alone, with one grenade... Then it really was best the Koopas run. 

[St. George]

The leader koopa smirked. "Dere are still ten of us an only two of youz."

George smiled. "Just my kind of odds."

Some of the koopas seemed to falter, but when five of them attacked George the rest went to attack the woman.

George stabbed a couple then started swinging his blade in a deadly ark. This finished of another, while the rest backed out of range of that deadly blade. George smiled again and drew his pistol. He wondered which potion laced bullet they would get.

[Ballari O'Brian]

Ballari was ready for them. Years of living in a rough part of town had her nerves and mind as tough as steel; she fired off two shots before the Koopas got to her. One hit the first Koopa in the chest; the other clipped another.

A Koopa grabbed her wrist, but Ballari spun to the side. She may have been bruised and slightly fatigued, but she knew her life may just be on the line here. And she had to survive. She had to get back to her son, and take care of him. He needed her. She needed to be there for him.

"Hey, I think I recognize th' dawl," one Koopa drawled as he started to circle her. Ballari sneered, skin crawling at the thought that the Koopa had seen her on the job. But she couldn't resist adding in,

"You should. I work the corner near that hole in a wall you call a house," she hissed, just before firing off a shot at the Koopa, then smashing the butt of her gun into the head of one within arm's reach. She wasn't going down without a fight.

[St. George]

When the two Koopas saw that their compatriots who attacked the woman weren't fairing any better, they turned tail and ran. Two bullets cracked after them. One Koopa burst into flames and another's arm fell off, eaten away by acid.

George let that one go. He wasn't sure he could hit the Koopa at his currently increasing range, and it left one alive to spread the legend. Not that the Koopa could really bother him any more anyways.

He turned to Ballari. "Do you want any assistance?"