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Say Goodbye, Hollywood
Topic Started: Mar 4 2008, 12:14 AM (3,293 Views)
laZardo
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^This is not what a Laz looks like^
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Troy continued from Dropping The Soap))

Troy McCann did not know how long he had been running from Gabriel Theobaldt. All he knew was that when he finally stopped, he found himself in a storehouse in the middle of nowhere. He sat against the doorway on the inside, nervously looking outside, waiting for Gabe to show up and receive either business end of a sharp cast-iron instrument...but he didn't know when that was.

He did know that a disturbing fate had (finally?) befallen Karl Van Buren, the kid of excessively bad luck. He'd also seen a girl on his way out, but was running too quick to identify her, but at least he knew she'd been spared a worse fate - for the time being at least. Troy also still had his fireplace poker and all his supplies, so he wouldn't be able to fight Gabe on an empty stomach.

Of course, Gabe was damn near as big as Boxer Carvalho, and not lasting thirty seconds against Paul Smith in Shooters didn't encourage the gangsta one bit. For all he knew, this was his punishment for trying to be something he wasn't. He had Honors, scholarships and a great spot in the nerd clique, and he gave that up for what? Dignity? Cash? In this game, neither mattered if you wouldn't have either of those in the next life.

Unless, of course, you survived.

"Jesus...what the fuck am I doing?" he sighed as he tried to catch his breath. "That guy killed Karl...I've gotta take him down...I'm a gangsta, goddammit!"

Troy tried to psych himself up with what was left of his gangsta ideology. If he could get through with mangling Gabe, people would actually start taking him seriously. Hell, if he managed to get through the rest of the game, he could go back and - despite not spending jail time because he'd be an "innocent victim driven over the brink," - would have mad respect as an "ice-cold killah." All he had to do was make that first step out, as he slowly stood up, back rubbing against the doorway. If he was going to die fighting, it certainly wasn't going to be sitting down.

Unfucked: Cisco Vasquez (V4)
Proper Fucked: Harris Van Allen (The Program), Rashid Hassan (V4)
Fucked Soon: Carlos Lazaro and Eliza Patton
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Shiola
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[ *  *  *  * ]
((Continued from Dropping the Soap))

A cheery sigh emerged from Gabriel as he finally reached Troy's destination - A large storehouse with, as he now saw, only one entrance. It brought a happy feeling inside of him. After that horrible, emotional fiasco with Karl Van Buren, it left Gabriel with a bit of a bad taste in his mouth. It did feel much better to finally be rid of Karl, but the whole ordeal just seemed to be too straining for Gabriel. After completely throwing what shred of humanity he had left away in a flurry of blood and gore at the start of the game, to have it come back and bite him in the ass right as he was executing his old friend... made the whole thing a lot less enjoyable than it might've been.

Though I was just toying with the poor fuck... I stopped caring for people a long time ago.

As he thought while stalking Troy McCann across the island, he noticed that his knee seemed to feel quite a bit better than it had before. The pain he'd experienced on the island was nothing new, if not a small bit worse than he'd experienced before. He had walked with a cane back home only as a matter of precaution, should he begin to lose his balance. Now, it seemed better than ever.

I was never one for religion, or voodoo shit, but it's like a curse has been lifted...

Troy McCann.... He'd recognized the 'gangsta' the moment he was able to get close enough to see him well. Gabriel particularly had a dislike for him, not because he had that attitude, although that was part of it, but only because he tried much, much too hard to look and act like a 'gangsta.' Sometimes he wondered if he was the only one who really noticed this, or if everyone else just let him wallow in his own stupidity. In any case, Gabriel would make sure he'd die a humiliating, painful death.

His gigantic figure was leaned against the outside wall of the storehouse. Calmly, he scratched the side of his head, and looked around the outside, making sure nobody else was around. He'd thought he had seen someone else outside the storehouse, but they were going far away from his intended target. Gabriel unsheathed the sword quietly, and then kneeled down, wincing, and picked up a small rock. He tossed it through one of the storehouse's broken windows, and heard it clatter on the concrete floor inside. He could faintly hear Troy's voice coming from the Storehouse. Gabriel looked in through the doorway, hoping that Troy was distracted by the object he had thrown through the window. Hesitating slightly, he strode into the storehouse, and then shut the large metal doors. The only way out.

You have nowhere to run, my little gangsta...

Gabriel aimed a fierce blow at Troy's neck with his free arm. Not enough to knock him over, but enough to get him to turn around and wonder what the fuck was going on. And then Gabriel would, quite literally, tear him apart.
V7:
Erika Stieglitz
Tyrell Lahti
Caroline Ford
Henry Sparks
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laZardo
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[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Clink.

The sound of whatever it was that came through the window caused Troy to gasp, and his head to ratchet in its direction. Even though the storehouse was empty, the sound of the object caused quite a racket, enough for Troy to go and investigate. He didn't think it likely for someone who often used a cane to walk could jump through a window...but climbing through a window wasn't too far out of the question. He went over to the source of the sound to find a small stone on the ground.

"Fuck, I've been distracted," he muttered angrily...before another sound caught his attention. The sound of footsteps approaching rapidly. But it was sound of the storehouse's metal doors closing was enough to double take Troy back around to face the bloodthirsty Gabriel.

"Sweet Jesus-" Troy began before lunging forward and deliberately to Gabe's side to avoid his punch. He rolled on the ground a bit before getting back to a ready-squat position behind Gabe, spear at the ready. With a good swipe, he lunged back at the giant, hoping to jab either of the poker's tips into Gabe's leg and make him really require a cane.

Unfucked: Cisco Vasquez (V4)
Proper Fucked: Harris Van Allen (The Program), Rashid Hassan (V4)
Fucked Soon: Carlos Lazaro and Eliza Patton
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Shiola
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[ *  *  *  * ]
Gabriel wasn't suprised that Troy took a swipe at his knee, and quickly stopped the fire poker with his own arming sword. It was a predictable move; it wasn't that difficult to see his disability. It wasn't that difficult to stop people's overt strikes at it either. The sword clattered against the fire poker. Troy was at a severe disadvantage. There was only one way out, and Gabriel stood right in front of it. He would be damned if he left the storehouse without blood on his hands.

Without pausing for a second, he slid the sword away from Troy's fire poker, and sidestepped around him. Something he gathered Troy wouldn't be easily able to do. Baggy pants weren't the best thing to be wearing in a swordfight, especially when one didn't have a sword to begin with. Gabriel looked at Troy sideways. It might've been an interesting sight, seeing this sword-weilding, wild-eyed giant duelling a 'gangsta' with a fire poker.

Gingerly he continued to sidestep around Troy, waiting for the prescise moment to attack. The intense look on Gabriel's face must've sent chills down Troy's spine, for it showed such violence it was hard to believe that Gabriel had once had any ounce of humanity at all. Unexpectedly he took several prescise swipes at Troy's midsection.

But did I really ever have any humanity to begin with?
V7:
Erika Stieglitz
Tyrell Lahti
Caroline Ford
Henry Sparks
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laZardo
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[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Troy's fireplace poker was deflected, but Gabe's sidestep enabled him to finish his lunge and reorient himself to face his opponent, who was still blocking the way to the door. He got up in time to see Gabriel taking swipes at his midsection, the first one coming so dangerously close as to tear his shirt open. His adrenalin rush had heightened his reflex times just enough that he could evade the giant's swipes (a sword as big as that wasn't that hard to evade), but his "flee" sense wasn't built up enough to get his fireplace poker into range.

To Troy, Gabriel was undoubtedly human, just one driven psychotic by intellect and who knew what happened to turn people into psycho killers on a desert island in the middle of nowhere. Exactly why it happened to him, Troy was not trying to think about, as he found himself almost panicking and trying to avoid being cornered against the crates. There was a small office behind him, but the window that Gabe had thrown the rock through could probably fit Troy through. All he needed to do was distract Gabe enough to get past him...or get to a place where he could ambush the giant.

Right now however, there was a sword swiping at him.

"Dammit man, what the hell's gotten into you!?" he shouted, keeping his fist clenched around the poker and watching Gabe's arms to see where the sword went next.

Unfucked: Cisco Vasquez (V4)
Proper Fucked: Harris Van Allen (The Program), Rashid Hassan (V4)
Fucked Soon: Carlos Lazaro and Eliza Patton
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Namira
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Null sheen.
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
(Sean continued from:Yes It Is)

"How the hell did I end up here?" The building in front of Sean was unfamiliar, and more pressingly, neither Adam nor Julie, and most importantly: Andy, were anywhere to be seen. Sean had slipped on his way there, and that brief tumble had been more than enough to lose the pair he was following entirely. With little to go on, Sean had just kept on in the direction he was facing when he picked himself up. Evidently, it hadn't been the right choice.

Sean shuddered as he cast his mind back to the earlier incident which had prompted him to run for the hills once again. Owen Fontaine had just been killed... they used to play soccer together, but Owen had always been by far a better player. He was a little odd, that was for sure, but being 'odd' didn't warrant a bullet to the head.

The baseballer's head snapped up and he squinted. Inside the storehouse, some kind of confrontation was going on. The figure with his back to Sean was big - really big, and from that Sean had to assume it was, judging by his short brown hair: Gabriel Theobaldt. Being able to see the other guy from the front - even at this distance, made it somewhat easier for Sean to identify him. Troy McCann had a very... unique look.

From where Sean was, it looked like kind of screwed up duel. Gabriel, from the back, appeared to be wielding a sword, whilst Troy had a long metal implement of some description. Sean didn't need to even use Adam's information to know that Gabriel was the agressor - the announcement told him enough. Sean hesitated only a moment before running to help - hampered by a piece of common sense: Sean was small, and had a makeshift knife. Gabriel was more than a foot taller than him, and Troy around half of that bigger. What could he really do?

Whatever I can. Sean thought grimly, digigng into his pocket for a couple of glass shards, before calling out to Gabriel, hoping to distract him.

"Hey asshole! I'm giving you one warning: Fuck off, or I'll tear you apart: You haven't seen pyscho yet,"

The latter part of it was added when Sean realised that he was incredibly frustrated, and dangerously close to boiling over. Fuses were as short as they could possibly be right now, and Sean could be quite the hothead at times. He hoped that his anger hadn't caused him to make a rash move...

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"Wait, wait, let me see if I follow... You're trying to threaten me with a piece of glass, regardless that i've got a sword, and I have already killed two people? Are you stupid?"

Gabriel's voice seemed to dominate the open room, shelves full of old boxes being the only other objects in it aside from the three... combatants. He stood with either boy on each side of him, leaving no room for anyone to sneak up on him. Gabriel looked down on him with amusement. The pathetic little excuse for a weapon, the glass shards held in the boy's tiny hand was no match for Gabriel's sword, which he had now become quite fond of. He lamented never coming across (or more specifically, coming from behind) anybody with a half-decent weapon since Jason Foley. Karl's sword was still inside the Shower Facility, though he doubted it'd be much use now that the place was a dangerzone. But now that he saw who, exactly, he was now standing beside, he was even more amused.

"Hehe... We've got Sean O'Cann, and Troy McCann here! Cann Cann, can you do the Cann Cann, can you do the Cann Cann... Mahahaha..."

The deranged laughter coming from Gabriel stopped almost immediately as he began to speak again, the long arming sword still in a great place to impale either of them should they try anything stupid.

"So... you're that freshly out-of-the-closet baseball player. Not a good thing for someone to know if you're trying to intimidate them. I hate to say it... wait, no I don't... your boyfriend Andy's going to miss you, if he even survives any longer than you do."

Stop talking and just kill him. What does it matter what he hears before he dies? Why am I even playing the sick, twisted bastard in the first place? It's not necessary, and i'm not even that bad of a guy...

Or am I?


Almost as soon as he finished his sentence, Gabriel grabbed one of the large shelves behind Sean. During his sick little speech to the newcomer, he had edged his way over to the shelf, waiting for the right moment to tip it over. It was lighter than he'd expected, and fell down with very little effort on his part. He could hear the loud crashing noises of boxes falling over on Sean, and he doubted the boy would get up again. If the snapping sound he'd heard was any indication, he was dead or dying underneath that pile, but he couldn't see enough to make any clear judgement. In the resulting chaos he maneouvered over to Troy McCann, and pushed down another shelf as he passed by it.

One swipe at Troy's waist would be all he needed to incapacitate him, and then, Gabriel could... have his way with him.

Oh, now that's just nasty... But i'm nasty! Teehee...
V7:
Erika Stieglitz
Tyrell Lahti
Caroline Ford
Henry Sparks
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laZardo
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^This is not what a Laz looks like^
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
The lines about the "Cann Cann" caused Troy to cringe when he'd noticed Sean had entered the building. It brought back rather eye-twitching memories of what he'd caught Sean doing with that super-queer Anderson Walker at the gym several weeks ago, and he was glad he could get away from that relatively unscathed. But now there were two potentially hostile-to-Troy's-manhood personae in the storehouse. At least Sean seemed apparently hostile to Gabe...

Now was not the time for that though. Sean's entry had opened the door, and Troy realized his hesitation. Gabe had turned his back and moved toward Sean, and Troy used the breathing space to make his way toward the door while he was distracted. If he could get there in time, he could open the door or at least have Sean by him, if he didn't get crushed by the shelf Gabe tried to bring down on him.

"Fuckin-" The shelf nicked him on the shoulder as he was almost out of the way, tripping him forward and causing him to drop his fireplace poker as he skidded across the ground.

Even worse, he'd landed right beside Gabe. He quickly tried to crawl and wade for the poker, hoping he could get it just in time...

Unfucked: Cisco Vasquez (V4)
Proper Fucked: Harris Van Allen (The Program), Rashid Hassan (V4)
Fucked Soon: Carlos Lazaro and Eliza Patton
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Namira
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Null sheen.
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"Stupid? I'm not the one bragging about having murdered somebody. You're a sick piece of shit Gabriel, and insane to boot. I'd rather be a bit dim than a fucking pyschopath,"

Sean knew just how inadequate the glass shards in his left hand and the glass knife in his right were in comparison to Garbiel's sword, but he couldn't just stand there whilst he was trying to eviscerate Troy. It didn't make any difference whether they were friends back at school or not, it was somebody he knew, and he would be damned before he abandoned a guy to be killed. It didn't matter that Troy appeared to be holding his own, one mistake, and Gabriel would probably kill him...

"I could care less about your fucked up songs as well Gabriel, and I don't actually give a damn whether or not you know about my sexuality. Dude, I might be gay, but at least I can get together with somebody without cutting them apart first," Sean's eyes narrowed as Gabriel went on to mention his boyfriend - the guy could say what he wanted about anything else, but as soon as Andy came into the equation Sean got even angrier than he was already.

"Right you son of-" Sean was cut off as Gabriel darted past him and pulled down the crates stacked up against the wall, directing them to fall straight on top of him.

Oh shit.

The crates hit him hard and flattened him against the floor breathlessly, his head hitting the hard ground with an almighty crack, causing Sean's vision to spin and his eyes to start swimming before him.

"Well fuck me," Sean said softly to himself, lapsing into unconciousness.
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Shiola
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Troy had narrowly gotten out of the way of a shelf Gabriel knocked down, but he was taken down nonetheless. It was entertaining, to say the least, to watch Troy crawl along the floor, scrambling for his weapon when Gabriel only had to stab him right now, and he would be dead. With Sean dead, or at least unconcious, Gabriel could take all the time he needed, and let Troy crawl over to get his weapon. As the small (by comparison) boy crept closer to his fire poker, Gabriel slid the end of his sword underneath Troy's belt, and cut it apart. Troy was moving quickly, for being on his hands and knees, and wouldn't notice it.

Gabriel was never the rapist type of guy. Tearing organs out is one thing, but using them as some bizzare type of weapon was another. Out of his unloving nature, Gabriel really lacked much sexual attraction to... anybody. So the idea of cutting off Troy's belt was more of a tactic than anything. If his pants fell down, how would he run? He can't even defend himself with his tiny little fire poker in the first place...

Oh my, that sounds oddly sexual...

The spare moment of time in between what he hoped would be Troy's demise and now, he thought. Not the usual, 'kill everybody and have fun doing it' thoughts, no. Oddly enough, his mind began to wander. If it was even possible in a situation like this, he became bored. His mind didn't wander too far, of course. The amount of strain SOTF put on one's thoughts meant it was really difficult to push the current situation out of one's mind. Questions seemed to fly through his mind and back out again. What was the Government doing about this disaster now? Were people placing bets on how he'd kill Troy, or the winner of the next of Danya's little contests? If he won, would the Government pardon him on the murders he committed, even if he seemed to enjoy it? Would he ever be able to stop killing? Did he need to?

Don't need to.

It's survival, of course I do. Besides, it's a free pass to get rid of all of those annoying little cunts that've bothered me all these years...

Really? Is that why? You've 'suffered enough' under these people, Mr. seven foot tall sociopath? You've said it yourself. You love killing... You tell people this, but you won't tell yourself this...

No, I do love killing. See, I told myself now! You're wrong, you... who?

I'm you.

Really? I thought I left me a while ago back in the ravine...

No, i'm still here. You thought i'd leave? I love you Gabriel.

Yeah, I love me too.

You just said the same thing twice, Gabriel.

No I didn't.

Yeah, you said I love you Gabriel, then you said you love me too. I'm you, and I said I love you, then you said you love me, which is you.

I see.

No you don't.

Yes I do. Because you explained that, and you are me, meaning I explained that to me... I'm having a mental conversation with myself, aren't I?

Yes, yes you are.

Shit.

Don't worry, it happens to the best of us.

You mean me? There is no us, only me speaking to me...

Right... Get to killing Troy now, before it's too late.

I thought you didn't want me killing anybody?

I'm you.

Oh.

Gabriel shook his head. This was starting to get a little too abstract. The fact that he was talking to himself, and going into semantics no less, was a bit disturbing. It was time to go back to the harsh, less maddening reality that is this world.

My world.

He stood, in the middle of the storehouse, still waiting for Troy to get off of the cold concrete floor. Soon that concrete floor would be the last thing Troy would ever see. Not just a figure of speech - Gabriel planned to tear him apart with his bare hands. Perhaps, starting with his eyes.
V7:
Erika Stieglitz
Tyrell Lahti
Caroline Ford
Henry Sparks
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laZardo
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Troy McCann had managed to squirm his way over to the fireplace poker and pick it up. "Yeah, tha's it," he said to himself as he brought his legs forward and got back on his feet. He was able to turn around to face Gabe, and since his supply bag had slipped off when he'd fallen, he was a lot more agile. At least until he felt a strange, cold sensation around his legs. It was strange in that if he'd lost bladder control, it wouldn't have felt that cold. He looked down.

His pants had slid down to his ankles, revealing Troy's plain white boxers and scrawny legs. The pants were loose enough that he couldn't see his shoes when they fell, but at least he still had his boxer shorts on. It was still pretty embarrassing though.

"This isn't gangster, yo!" Troy shouted. He didn't seem aware that when he'd uttered those words, he was doing so without the rapper's accent he'd gotten so used to using over the past few months. It wasn't exactly as exaggerated as Steve Urkel's, but it certainly wasn't gangsta. Then again, none of that mattered when there was a person almost as tall as Boxer Carvalho with a giant sword ready to slice him in half, and the only person who could defend him was currently buried under a pile of crates. He bent down and picked up the garter with one hand, holding it at waist level.

"Oh, now you're gonna pay!" he shouted, throwing an angry glance Gabe's way. The way he was holding that sword, Troy could go for another swipe at his legs. He dashed forward and did a baseball slide, attempting to slam the poker's second business end into Gabe's shins.

Unfucked: Cisco Vasquez (V4)
Proper Fucked: Harris Van Allen (The Program), Rashid Hassan (V4)
Fucked Soon: Carlos Lazaro and Eliza Patton
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Shiola
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[ *  *  *  * ]
((I got Laz's permission to do all sorts of nasty things to Troy.))

Now you get along with me
I’m gonna make you mine
And make you free
In the new world


Hovering above him like a vulture waiting for it's next meal, Gabriel brandished the sword once more as Troy noticed his pants had fallen down to his ankles. The words "This isn't gangster, yo!" made Gabriel cringe. It wasn't said in his incessantly annoying 'Gangsta' accent, no it was said in, well, the lamest possible way he could think of. This guy needed to be shut up.

In a messy way, yeah.

Troy, lacking any shred of intelligence whatsoever, still persisted and attacked Gabriel, but failed miserably. Attempting to dive and attack him, Gabriel only had to sidestep and take one large, arcing swipe at Troy's arm. The reassuring sound of cold-steel on flesh meant that the sword had hit it's mark, and Troy now lacked a right hand.

Breath goes in
And breath goes out
It makes me scream
And makes me shout
In the new world


As the wannabe gangster lay on the ground, crying at either the pain or the prospect of dying, Gabriel couldn't help but giggle a little. This was almost too easy. The Arming Sword met it's sheath once again. He would need two free hands for this.

This is my world (burning, burning)
This is my world (burning, burning)


Gabriel took Troy by his collar and pulled him off of the ground. His baggy pants still were at his ankles. As much as he'd love to slowly torture Troy to death, there was little time to spare in a 'game' like this, as he'd learned from experience. Every second mattered.

This will have to be quick, I need to get moving.

Ripped up life and ripped up pain
I'll take my time and make you sane
In the new world


So he thought to himself, what would be a fitting end for this 'Gangsta' the man, who acted like he had more balls than a fucking pool table?
Tear his throat out, to finally shut him up? Gag him with his own pants? Whatever Gabriel thought of, it never really seemed to 'click with him.'

I pick methods of killing as if i'm squeezing fruit at a grocery store... Am I really that mad?

This is my world (burning, burning)
This is my world (burning, burning)


Gabriel looked down at Troy and realized he had a very clear view of his package from this angle. There was a hole in his boxers, from God-knows where, that gave him a repulsingly clear view of his privates.

Now there's an idea...

I'll hope that system starts to change
We're born with love and born with rage
I'll hope that system starts to change
We're born with love and born with rage


Now he knew exactly what he intended to do. The perfect death for this wannabe, this annoyance, the little bastard Gabriel had hunted ever since he had left the Shower building. Gabriel could still smell the stench of blood and gore. It had become awfully familiar since his first kill in the graveyard. There was another thing Adam Dodd was correct in his rant towards Gabriel in the ravine: He would remember every single person he killed... With fondness.

Now you get along with me
I'm gonna make you mine and make you free
In the new world


A devious grin overtook Gabriel's face and drove into Troy's eyes, and surely his psyche, as he proceeded to wrap his long fingers around the fleshy sack that was Troy's testicles. No sexual gesture, though he could imagine Troy would fear that right now. Gabriel tightened his grip on them, twisted, and pulled as hard as he knew how to. In one massive motion, he ripped them from their bounds on Troy's body, blood pouring down his legs from the open wound. A sickening, fleshy, ripping sound accompanied the attack, in addition to Troy's screams, though he could've been imagining them at this point. Now driven by bloodlust (and partially, sleep-deprived madness), the screams of dying teenagers were music to his ears, a simple pleasure.

Now you get along with me
I'm gonna make you mine and make you free
In the new world


The blood-covered ball of flesh that dripped from Gabriel's left hand would only stay there for a moment before it was shoved into Troy's open mouth. The raging beast that held Troy McCann in it's grasp forced the severed sex organs down his throat, closing his mouth and tilting his head so that Troy couldn't choke them up again. By this point Troy had lost enough blood that it would be a fruitless effort to struggle any further.

This is my world (burning, burning)
This is my world (burning, burning)
This is my world (burning, burning)


The monster released the hapless student from his grip, and wiped his hand on his freshly blood-stained jeans. Wouldn't want to get any on the hilt of his precious sword, would he? Admittedly the kill had taken longer than he wanted, but time does fly when having fun...

This

The cold steel rose from it's black, tattered sheath.

Is

It rose, high into the air above the giant who wielded it.

My World!

And struck down Troy McCann in one solid swipe at the neck.
V7:
Erika Stieglitz
Tyrell Lahti
Caroline Ford
Henry Sparks
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laZardo
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((I didn't give you permission to do all of that, but whatthefuckever)).

Troy slid past Gabe as he swiped, and to make matters worse, he wasn't able to completely pass the guy with the slide. As soon as he stopped, Gabe brought the sword down on his poker hand. Or, what was soon to be a dismembered poker hand.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD!" he screamed before Gabe pulled him up. The look in Gabe's eyes was evil, though if he had time to think rather than be concerned about the blood spurting out of his hand (which had temporarily subsided out of pain reflex, but was sure to continue when it "relaxed" a bit), perhaps Ed's soulless gaze might have been scarier.

Might have been.

"Fucking shit," he spat out into Gabe's face, "Fucking...SHIT! I hope...KILLS YOU!"

Troy had choked on his own blood in place of that name he wanted to say, but that was something he'd quickly forgotten when he felt Gabe grabbing his crotch.

Troy hadn't actually screamed when Gabe went Yellow Bastard on him, rather he'd gasped from what was removed. The thought was too hard to bear, and he had already passed out when Gabe brought the sword down on his neck. He didn't have time to think about all the career opportunities he'd lost by deciding to go balla, or the respect he would have gained if perhaps he'd gotten a proper gat rather than that measly spear. With his brain severed from his spine, he wouldn't really get to be able to think about anything.

The next thing he saw was a bright light.

Tanya?

Where do gangsters go when they die...
...they don't go to heaven where tha angels fly...


B29 - McCann, T - WASTED!

Unfucked: Cisco Vasquez (V4)
Proper Fucked: Harris Van Allen (The Program), Rashid Hassan (V4)
Fucked Soon: Carlos Lazaro and Eliza Patton
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Namira
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Null sheen.
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Sean's eyes flickered open as Troy cursed, rather loudly, and was just in time to see the 'gangsta's' hand go flying through the air, complete with poker, and land on the floor some distance away. That was enough to jolt him into full consciousness, and the baseballer quickly extricated himself from the wreckage and crates which Gabriel had caused to fall on top of him. Luckily, it didn't seem like there was anything damagaed - Sean was just a little sore in places. However, he really had to be careful, that was the second time he had been knocked out since the game began, it wasn't healthy. Of course, the risk of a long term injury was going to be the least of his problems...

The Irish boy managed to pick himself just in time to see Gabriel lift Troy into the air, followed by a ripping sound. Sean had a horrible feeling what that sound was, and he really did not want to find out whether or not he was right. For the time being, Gabriel was facing away from him, and that gave him a valuable window of opportunity. The little glass knife was nigh on useless, and he couldn't hope to do anything but cause a minor wound with it, which certainly wasn't going to save Troy. Sean immediately made up his mind, and dived to one side to clear the distance quicker - his objective, Troy's severed hand.

Sean tried not to think about what he was doing when he pried the fingers of the hand from the poker, letting the amputated appendage drop the ground as Sean now took up the 'weapon'. He swapped it to his stronger right hand, sticking the glass knife into his belt and retaining the glass shards in his left. Sean finished his preparations, but not quite quickly enough, as he turned back to see Gabriel pretty much decapitate Troy.

Fuck! No! It had happened again. Sean had already seen Owen Fontaine killed, and now somebody else he knew had just been killed right in front of him. The game was progressing, for sure: the announcements told him that, but Sean didn't think he was going to be experiencing this much of it first hand.

Get out of here Sean. Common sense urged. He's already killed three people, don't let's make it four. Sean supressed that feeling. What, then let him loose on the island, free to slaughter anybody he pleases? I have to at least try.

"You are one sick son of a bitch, you know that Gabriel?" Sean said to the giant's back, almost conversationally. "I'm not dead yet. Care to try again?" despite the fact he was facing off against somebody who towered over him by more than a foot, Sean felt utterly calm. Live or die, he had to do this.
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Shiola
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The decapitated body crumpled before him as Gabriel began to calm down after the rush of brutalizing Troy McCann. Some of the boy's blood was running down the end of the sword and off of Gabriel's hand, but it was nothing compared to the amount of gore from killing Jason Foley, so he didn't bother cleaning it off. In the confusion he hadn't heard the shuffling noises behind him, and was now overcome by a wave of tiredness.

You're working too hard, Gabriel. There's a fine line between legitimately frightening and over-the-top. The latter's a little difficult to keep up physically and you honestly don't do it right. Stick to what you know and just behead this little shit.

What the fuck are you talking about?

That'd be what the fuck are YOU talking about. For the last time, i'm you. At least, the sensical side of you. This is quite literally what you are thinking right now, personified as me.

But you're me!

Exactly.


Gabriel blinked a few times and quickly realized exactly how sick and tired of playing the 'badass' he was. One of the things he told himself he wouldn't do on the island and he fell into it... The thought of not keeping a check on his fury and animalistic bloodlust was frightening to him. Not keeping that in check could lead to him dying very quickly. If SOTF hadn't came along, it wouldn't have been long before Gabriel did something stupid and ended up in some prison or correctional facility, or worse, a mental institution. On closer inspection of his previous... exploits on the island, the mental institution was the most probable.

Hesitating at first, he turned around thinking to himself 'what now?' then realizing it was the boy he thought he'd crushed with a shelf. Apparantly it wasn't heavy enough. No, really?

More... sober... than ever, Gabriel responded to Sean's empty little words.

"Key word Sean... 'yet.' And you really don't think I haven't heard 'you sick son-of-a-bitch Gabriel' before?" The show of comparitably gentle emotion in his voice was a departure from the psycotic rambling he'd expressed before. It almost seemed like they were having a regular conversation.

"I can't say I disagree with you, but if I was in your position I wouldnt've said anything and stabbed the fuck out of this big ol' psycho over here before he could turn around. I can respect you in that it really took some balls to stand up to me, no pun intended... If that's even a pun, I dunno. And yes, I did just tear a guy's testicles off and ram them down his throat."

He shrugged, worn out and tired. "Really, I don't quite feel like getting into another little schysm with you right now. So i'm going to be nice. Here's your chance to take your fire poker, take your little glass shard, and walk right outta here. But if you wanna stay and be a hero-"

Gabriel pointed to Troy's headless, mangled body.

"Be my guest."
V7:
Erika Stieglitz
Tyrell Lahti
Caroline Ford
Henry Sparks
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