Post by jvstice56 on Sept 15, 2011 18:57:41 GMT -5
This is a pure character development rp, do NOT reply to it, it won't be answered.
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Rain…always raining…never a sunny day in the suburbs of Chicago. The street looks like the surface of a lake as the rain pours hard. Vehicles of various shapes, sizes, and makes pass by, some going slow, others speeding across the water drenched roads. Some of them cause the water to splash onto the sidewalks, sometimes landing on Anilya, others missing by a few inches or feet. A few jagged lines of streak lightning crash across the sky, with a few of them striking some of the antenna towers spread across the city skyline.
Anilya is walking through this stormy night, wearing a black fleece jacket, completely soaked by the summer storm ripping through Chicago. What is seen under the jacket is a white shirt, but it’s obscured by the zipped up fleece. She has on black windbreaker pants, they seem to be black with the darkened sky and near night setting of the city as the city lights are on. She is wearing Converse All-Stars, but they appear to be very worn down and about to break apart, and white ankle socks, darkened in some spots by the rain and mud. Anilya’s face bares bruises and cuts from a recent fight, as her wrists show boxing tape across them. It’s unclear how her hands are, as they are tucked away in the pockets of her jacket. It’s also unclear whether or not her head is slightly lowered from the match she may have had or the rain, most likely the rain.
She walks a few blocks, rarely stopping save a few times due to traffic, and rests a shop called “Mark’s Deli” and enters the still open shop. The shop is full of deli meats, sausages, neatly cut portions of ready to order steak. Bread in the brick oven against the far wall. Strewn across the walls near Anilya is pictures of many of Chicago well-known people, from A.J Pierzynski to Alfonso Soriano for baseball, Michael Jordan, Scotty Pippin, and Phil Jackson for basketball, the Cusack family, Bernie Mac, and few others for actors. Plus an image of Anilya on a special portrait near the counter on the left side of the brick oven. The chairs are a white cushioned steel chairs, with two and three of them at white marble surfaced table. On each table is salt, pepper, ketchup, napkins, and pull out menus for people to take out.
As Anilya stares at the place, she takes a whiff of the air. Freshly cut chicken, turkey, ham, beef, lamp, and freshly baked bread courses through her nostrils. A smile creeps up on her face, a warm feeling overcomes her, a feeling of home, a place she hasn’t seen in many years. As she walks up to the counter, she removes her hood and takes a napkin and tries to clean up her face, which is covered in cuts, bruises and blood. She takes a few more napkins and tries to clean the wounds the best she can. She tosses them into a black trash bin on the other side of the counter then looks into a reflection from the napkin holder to check her battered face.
As she finishes and turns around, a man who appears to be in his mid to late forties is at the counter. He has on a starch white apron with Mark’s Deli’s logo on the chest area. In his right hand is a butcher’s knife and in his left hand is a barbeque fork. He has hair graying at the temples, with a full head of hair, but covered by a hairnet. He is wearing a white t-shirt underneath the apron, a pair of black pants of unknown design and black shoes. He has latex gloves covering his hands, which is used by anyone who works with any form of cooked and uncooked meat to prevent contamination. Despite working in a delicatessen, he is in very good shape, and has muscles showing on his arms, which are also covered with barely visible hair. He looks at Anilya with a big, warm smile. He places the knife fork down, removes the gloves and apron, and walks from the back of the counter and gives her a tight hug. He releases the hug and she gasps for air, then pats her on the back, knocking her over from the force.
Man
“If I be a monkey’s uncle. Little Annie Leah, all grown up. Don’t be surprised I recognized ya, the image of ya when that wrestlin’ company ya were with gave us this in commemoration, saying that ya lived in this area and enjoyed my meat a lot. Take a seat and I’ll get ya yer usual, the Ultimate Supreme, every meat and plant that’s edible on one sammich. If that won’t work, I’ll just make ya a salad, since ya look like ya watch yer intakes.” Anilya coughs and takes a seat. Mark pats her on the back then gives her another hug, only is more gentle about it.
Anilya
“Hi Mark, I’ll have the usual, main reason I walked in the rain to here. Only place I knew that would be open after the fight at the Threatre. I’ll also have a large cup of your famous cola as well.” Mark laughs and walks behind the counter as Anilya pulls out her wallet. He taps his knife and she turns around and sees him shaking his head.
Mark
“Nuh-uh, ya never paid for ya food in the past, don’ even start now. This one’s on the house anways, as celebration for ya victory against that schmuck of Donald. I hope ya knocked that heartless ass’ teeth out of his so-called ‘pretty mouth’ when he fell for that ten count.” Anilya looks at him with confusion, as there’s no television in sight. “I heard it on the radio. Some woman named Anilya Gaian, a professional wrestler, challenged, fought, and effectively defeated ‘Divine’ Donald Tillman. Based on the description they gave ya, I had a feelin’ it was ya. I’m a bit amazed that ya dyed yer hair black.” Anilya grabs her hair and Mark begins laughing. “Ya look good with black hair, Annie Leah, and don’t let anyone tell ya otherwise. Anyways, lemme make ya sammich and cola.” He disappears into the back and the sound of a soda machine turning on echoes through the deli. The sound of a refrigerator opening and closing is heard, as Mark walks past Anilya’s sight with a bunch of plastic wrapped meats, vegetables, cheeses, and other sorted items known to be on delicatessen sandwiches across the world. She gets up from the chair and walks into the back and sees Mark slicing everything up very quickly, implying he’s done this for years. The soda machine buzzes and Mark, slightly startled by Anilya’s presence in the kitchen, walks by her to the machine and pours a steaming liquid into another machine and turns it on, then turns off the soda machine. Anilya walks out of the kitchen and back into the seat she was in and looks around at the place.
She notices a few changes from the last time she was here. The wallpaper now has images of Chicago’s skyline. She looks around and sees some images that were up are now taken down, some replaced with the athletes and actors she saw before. She looks around and notices the old jukebox she listened to as a child is still there. She walks over to the machine and places a dollar into the dollar bill slot and presses E and Seven, then a record is popped up at E-Seven’s location and is grabbed then placed on the record player. The needle slowly rises on the now spinning record and the song “Death on Two Legs (Dedicated to..)” by Queen, from the album “A Night at the Opera”. Anilya turns around and begins to do some light dancing, then spins and loses her balance, landing hard on a chair, catching herself as she nearly falls. She regains her senses and stands up and brushes herself off. She can hear Mark laughing in the back, and she returns to sitting in the seat she was in and listened to Queen.
Eventually, Mark comes out with a plate of the sandwich called “Ultimate Supreme” being held in his right hand. The sandwich has stacks upon stacks of meat, vegetable, fruit, cheese, and a sauce. The meats that are visible are turkey, ham, lamb, beef, chicken, venison, and veal. Some of the vegetables visible are lettuce, carrots, peppers, spinach, the visible fruits are tomatoes, cucumbers, bananas, oranges, and the visible cheeses are American, Swiss, Romano, Parmesan, Colby Jack, Monterey Jack, and Pepper Jack. The sauce looks like Ranch, or a mixture of various dressings and ranches, as the color looks a bit off for standard ranch. In Mark’s free hand is a large stainless steel cup his homemade cola, with ice and a straw, the condensation is completely visible on the cup as it slowly begins to trickle down it. He places the plate and the soda in front of Anilya and then sits in front of her. She grabs a few napkins, the salt and pepper shakers, and the ketchup. She sprinkles three shakes of salt and pepper on the sandwich, lifts the top carefully and places ketchup on the now exposed still simmering venison, then closes it and carefully lives the sandwich and takes a bite. She pounds the table with her right hand, causing Mark to grab her cola before it toppled over, ruining her drink. He lets out a hardy laugh as Anilya grabs the cola and drinks a bit, then belches.
Mark
“That’s my girl. Enjoy the sandwich, ya earned this meal. The room across from mine is yers for the night, so when ya’re done eating, ya can go clean yourself up, I’ll give ya my sister’s old clothes for the night and tomorrow, they should fit ya, god rest her soul. I’ll close the store up. Sit there and enjoy your dinner.” Anilya nods and continues to eat her sandwich as Mark gets up and walks over to the door and locks it, then begins to pull down the steel guard across the front windows. He walks past Anilya and walks into the kitchen and turns everything off, then the light to the kitchen. He walks past Anilya and places his right hand on her left shoulder and smiles, but Anilya is deeply immersed with her sandwich. He walks upstairs and Anilya continues to eat her extraordinary large sandwich and cola, listening to Queen as the music has grown quieter.
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Rain…always raining…never a sunny day in the suburbs of Chicago. The street looks like the surface of a lake as the rain pours hard. Vehicles of various shapes, sizes, and makes pass by, some going slow, others speeding across the water drenched roads. Some of them cause the water to splash onto the sidewalks, sometimes landing on Anilya, others missing by a few inches or feet. A few jagged lines of streak lightning crash across the sky, with a few of them striking some of the antenna towers spread across the city skyline.
Anilya is walking through this stormy night, wearing a black fleece jacket, completely soaked by the summer storm ripping through Chicago. What is seen under the jacket is a white shirt, but it’s obscured by the zipped up fleece. She has on black windbreaker pants, they seem to be black with the darkened sky and near night setting of the city as the city lights are on. She is wearing Converse All-Stars, but they appear to be very worn down and about to break apart, and white ankle socks, darkened in some spots by the rain and mud. Anilya’s face bares bruises and cuts from a recent fight, as her wrists show boxing tape across them. It’s unclear how her hands are, as they are tucked away in the pockets of her jacket. It’s also unclear whether or not her head is slightly lowered from the match she may have had or the rain, most likely the rain.
She walks a few blocks, rarely stopping save a few times due to traffic, and rests a shop called “Mark’s Deli” and enters the still open shop. The shop is full of deli meats, sausages, neatly cut portions of ready to order steak. Bread in the brick oven against the far wall. Strewn across the walls near Anilya is pictures of many of Chicago well-known people, from A.J Pierzynski to Alfonso Soriano for baseball, Michael Jordan, Scotty Pippin, and Phil Jackson for basketball, the Cusack family, Bernie Mac, and few others for actors. Plus an image of Anilya on a special portrait near the counter on the left side of the brick oven. The chairs are a white cushioned steel chairs, with two and three of them at white marble surfaced table. On each table is salt, pepper, ketchup, napkins, and pull out menus for people to take out.
As Anilya stares at the place, she takes a whiff of the air. Freshly cut chicken, turkey, ham, beef, lamp, and freshly baked bread courses through her nostrils. A smile creeps up on her face, a warm feeling overcomes her, a feeling of home, a place she hasn’t seen in many years. As she walks up to the counter, she removes her hood and takes a napkin and tries to clean up her face, which is covered in cuts, bruises and blood. She takes a few more napkins and tries to clean the wounds the best she can. She tosses them into a black trash bin on the other side of the counter then looks into a reflection from the napkin holder to check her battered face.
As she finishes and turns around, a man who appears to be in his mid to late forties is at the counter. He has on a starch white apron with Mark’s Deli’s logo on the chest area. In his right hand is a butcher’s knife and in his left hand is a barbeque fork. He has hair graying at the temples, with a full head of hair, but covered by a hairnet. He is wearing a white t-shirt underneath the apron, a pair of black pants of unknown design and black shoes. He has latex gloves covering his hands, which is used by anyone who works with any form of cooked and uncooked meat to prevent contamination. Despite working in a delicatessen, he is in very good shape, and has muscles showing on his arms, which are also covered with barely visible hair. He looks at Anilya with a big, warm smile. He places the knife fork down, removes the gloves and apron, and walks from the back of the counter and gives her a tight hug. He releases the hug and she gasps for air, then pats her on the back, knocking her over from the force.
Man
“If I be a monkey’s uncle. Little Annie Leah, all grown up. Don’t be surprised I recognized ya, the image of ya when that wrestlin’ company ya were with gave us this in commemoration, saying that ya lived in this area and enjoyed my meat a lot. Take a seat and I’ll get ya yer usual, the Ultimate Supreme, every meat and plant that’s edible on one sammich. If that won’t work, I’ll just make ya a salad, since ya look like ya watch yer intakes.” Anilya coughs and takes a seat. Mark pats her on the back then gives her another hug, only is more gentle about it.
Anilya
“Hi Mark, I’ll have the usual, main reason I walked in the rain to here. Only place I knew that would be open after the fight at the Threatre. I’ll also have a large cup of your famous cola as well.” Mark laughs and walks behind the counter as Anilya pulls out her wallet. He taps his knife and she turns around and sees him shaking his head.
Mark
“Nuh-uh, ya never paid for ya food in the past, don’ even start now. This one’s on the house anways, as celebration for ya victory against that schmuck of Donald. I hope ya knocked that heartless ass’ teeth out of his so-called ‘pretty mouth’ when he fell for that ten count.” Anilya looks at him with confusion, as there’s no television in sight. “I heard it on the radio. Some woman named Anilya Gaian, a professional wrestler, challenged, fought, and effectively defeated ‘Divine’ Donald Tillman. Based on the description they gave ya, I had a feelin’ it was ya. I’m a bit amazed that ya dyed yer hair black.” Anilya grabs her hair and Mark begins laughing. “Ya look good with black hair, Annie Leah, and don’t let anyone tell ya otherwise. Anyways, lemme make ya sammich and cola.” He disappears into the back and the sound of a soda machine turning on echoes through the deli. The sound of a refrigerator opening and closing is heard, as Mark walks past Anilya’s sight with a bunch of plastic wrapped meats, vegetables, cheeses, and other sorted items known to be on delicatessen sandwiches across the world. She gets up from the chair and walks into the back and sees Mark slicing everything up very quickly, implying he’s done this for years. The soda machine buzzes and Mark, slightly startled by Anilya’s presence in the kitchen, walks by her to the machine and pours a steaming liquid into another machine and turns it on, then turns off the soda machine. Anilya walks out of the kitchen and back into the seat she was in and looks around at the place.
She notices a few changes from the last time she was here. The wallpaper now has images of Chicago’s skyline. She looks around and sees some images that were up are now taken down, some replaced with the athletes and actors she saw before. She looks around and notices the old jukebox she listened to as a child is still there. She walks over to the machine and places a dollar into the dollar bill slot and presses E and Seven, then a record is popped up at E-Seven’s location and is grabbed then placed on the record player. The needle slowly rises on the now spinning record and the song “Death on Two Legs (Dedicated to..)” by Queen, from the album “A Night at the Opera”. Anilya turns around and begins to do some light dancing, then spins and loses her balance, landing hard on a chair, catching herself as she nearly falls. She regains her senses and stands up and brushes herself off. She can hear Mark laughing in the back, and she returns to sitting in the seat she was in and listened to Queen.
Eventually, Mark comes out with a plate of the sandwich called “Ultimate Supreme” being held in his right hand. The sandwich has stacks upon stacks of meat, vegetable, fruit, cheese, and a sauce. The meats that are visible are turkey, ham, lamb, beef, chicken, venison, and veal. Some of the vegetables visible are lettuce, carrots, peppers, spinach, the visible fruits are tomatoes, cucumbers, bananas, oranges, and the visible cheeses are American, Swiss, Romano, Parmesan, Colby Jack, Monterey Jack, and Pepper Jack. The sauce looks like Ranch, or a mixture of various dressings and ranches, as the color looks a bit off for standard ranch. In Mark’s free hand is a large stainless steel cup his homemade cola, with ice and a straw, the condensation is completely visible on the cup as it slowly begins to trickle down it. He places the plate and the soda in front of Anilya and then sits in front of her. She grabs a few napkins, the salt and pepper shakers, and the ketchup. She sprinkles three shakes of salt and pepper on the sandwich, lifts the top carefully and places ketchup on the now exposed still simmering venison, then closes it and carefully lives the sandwich and takes a bite. She pounds the table with her right hand, causing Mark to grab her cola before it toppled over, ruining her drink. He lets out a hardy laugh as Anilya grabs the cola and drinks a bit, then belches.
Mark
“That’s my girl. Enjoy the sandwich, ya earned this meal. The room across from mine is yers for the night, so when ya’re done eating, ya can go clean yourself up, I’ll give ya my sister’s old clothes for the night and tomorrow, they should fit ya, god rest her soul. I’ll close the store up. Sit there and enjoy your dinner.” Anilya nods and continues to eat her sandwich as Mark gets up and walks over to the door and locks it, then begins to pull down the steel guard across the front windows. He walks past Anilya and walks into the kitchen and turns everything off, then the light to the kitchen. He walks past Anilya and places his right hand on her left shoulder and smiles, but Anilya is deeply immersed with her sandwich. He walks upstairs and Anilya continues to eat her extraordinary large sandwich and cola, listening to Queen as the music has grown quieter.