Difference between revisions of "(KigaVerse) Northwatch: Origins"

A vintage burgundy Rolls-Royce glided to a stop in front of an old, abandoned warehouse in the south end of Toronto in the dead of night. It was a Nimbus Edition, the kind that didn't produce noise or experience turbulence at high altitudes. The detail work was strictly gold. No Chrome. The meticulously polished hood ornament depicted Dolos, the Greek god of trickery and illusions. It was a featureless male head with long, sleek wings jetting from the shoulders of the bust.

The rear left passenger door popped open and an immaculately dressed Rakshasa stepped out of the hover car. He was a tall man of clear Indian decent with kempt black hair and a clean English mustache between his chiseled nose and chin. He grimaced, gazing about his dilapidated surroundings with staunch disapproval. He adjusted the collar of his burgundy sports jacket over his burgundy turtle neck and proceeded toward the entrance of the warehouse, shivering gently in the cool autumn air.

The interior of the warehouse was bathed in an all-encompassing darkness. The partially illuminated edges of Destroid silhouettes stood guard all around a central figure that sat menacingly in a motionless silence. Rakshasa stuffed both hands in the pockets of his burgundy slacks, leering around in uncomfortable disgust.

"Skipped the light bill, have we?" he asked sarcastically.

The figure slowly rose from his seat, Rakshasa's expression slipping into a nervous fear as the man reached his towering full posture.

"I trust you've completed your task, Rakshasa," Doctor Destroyer snarled indifferently.

Rakshasa swallowed and gathered his wits before speaking.

"It has been done, Master Destroyer," he said earnestly in a robust Indian accent, lowering his head respectfully as he finished speaking.

Destroyer snickered from beneath his helmet, once again taking his seat.

"You've been a loyal servant to me, Rakshasa. And when the time is right, you will be rewarded beyond measure."

Rakshasa lifted his sinister gaze, a smug grin painted beneath his perfectly groomed mustache.