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Fatal Fury; Private thread is private. PM if you want in
Topic Started: Feb 4 2011, 03:18 AM (2,003 Views)
Super Llama
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STILL THE BEST 1973
[ *  *  *  * ]
{{continued from No Crying Allowed}}

Whoa.

Maria looked out at the wreckage that was the front entrance of the Sawmill, looking like a bomb went off, and all she could do was channel her inner Neo.

"Cass, what do you think happened...here..."

...where was Cass?

Maria looked left, and then right, and then left, and then right, and then behind her. She went back the way she came a little bit, and then came back, and then looked right again, getting more and more panicked. How the hell did she lose Cass!? When they left the Residential Area she was right next to her, and she made damn sure it stayed that way. She didn't want to risk losing her.

Didn't want to lose her...

Just like...

Just like nothing.

Maria felt that headache coming on again. Her thoughts were getting more and more muddled as she went. She found herself trying to recall things that had happened, like what the hell happened with Warren? How did she lose her shirt? Why was she covered in blood? Hell, why wasn't she more freaked out about being covered in blood? Hell, the blood was quickly becoming the hot topic, because she KNEW where it came from a second ago. It...it came from Duncan, right? But it COULDN'T. This much blood, it had to be fatal. There's no way Duncan could lose that much blood and still be okay.

Unless...

HE'S FINE

Every time she tried to think about it, it felt like her mind was quickly changing the subject, trying to keep her from recalling something. It was getting harder to concentrate, and it was just giving her headaches. Maybe that's how she and Cass got separated; because she was too busy dealing with this crap to notice.

Well...maybe Cass was already inside that huge building. Maria decided to give that a shot as she walked down to the Sawmill, dropping her pack off near the entrance as she stepped inside more carefully, looking around to see if there was anyone she didn't want to run into, sharpened stick at the ready.

"Uh...C-Cass?"
Edited by Super Llama, Feb 7 2011, 08:25 PM.
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Enough expository banter! Now we fight like men! And ladies! And ladies who dress like men! For Gilgamesh...it is MORPHIN' TIME!

V5 hopefuls:
Hiro Fukuyama: "N-n-no, I-I'm not scared."
Lucy Rosenberg: "If you're looking for friends, I don't think I can help you with that."
Angus McDonald: "To hell with you! If anyone here deserves to live, it's me!"


The Dead


banthesun
 
She wanted those horrible metal balls to stop banging against her legs

ZombiexCreame
 
But would Celeste even want help from a guy that whips out his pistol without a second thought?
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Solitair
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Where modesty's ill manners, 'tis but fit that impudence and malice pass for wit.
[ *  *  *  * ]
((Cassidy Wakemore continued from No Crying Allowed))

whatthefuckwasthat

Just the wind. Just Maria stepping on a twig. Good old Maria. Lady Neverdie, they always called her. Yes.

Cassidy's eyes turned every which way they could at the slightest hint of motion. He could be anywhere, absolutely anywhere, and nobody else would ever know. Not until Maria collapsed in pain, her legs twisted, spine shattered, blood pooling into the ground, eyes unfocused and staring into the void of space, mouth open and dripping blood-flecked drool shut up shut up shut up!

The sharp tip of her javelin jabbed into the ground, burying itself like an ineffectual shovel over and over again. Cassie stabbed it in an outburst of frustration, eager to stab whatever was making her this way. The ground was as good a target as any, and if pleased her to imagine blood spurts coming up from the places she pulled the javelin out of the ground. She only stopped when she noticed that Maria was gone.

Oh fuck oh fuck oh god oh god. She didn't mean it, she really didn't. She was so, so sorry. Please accept her apology, Maria. Please don't leave her.

Cassie breathed in and out, in and out. She was gone. Where did she go? Did Winston find her? Did a real killer? She had to save her, had to. The woods zoomed right past Cassie as she tore a path through them, a path that resulted in her getting bruised and cut by the foliage.

Soon she came across the building, the sawmill building. Had she been here before? Did Maria come back inside? Only one way to find out. Cassie crept inside and looked around the dark expanse. No Maria. Time to leave she gues-

"Cassie!"

That wasn't Maria's voice. Maria's voice wasn't nearly as perfect. In response to that perfect voice, Cassie whirled around and thrust her javelin forward like a spear. It buried itself in the breast of Winston Parry, who stared down at it in horror despite the lack of blood around his new wound.

"Wh-what did you do that for?" he asked.

Cassie glared at his neck; it was smooth and unmarked, no collar to be seen. "Shut up! Go away! I don't want you anymore!" She yanked it back out of him, falling over due to bracing herself on a body that wasn't there.

He looked hurt, wounded from her rejection. "But but but why?" he asked.

"Because you're not real!" she screamed. "The real you wouldn't creep me out, wouldn't ask me to kill my friends! You may have killed Duncan, but YOU WON'T KILL MARIA YOU CUNT!"

Her hands wrapped around neck-shaped air, and constricted her fingers ever so slowly, turning not-Winston's head into a bloated blueberry. The wheezing, gasping sounds he made did nothing to deter her from getting rid of him once and for all. One sound, however, did.

"Uh...C-Cass?"

The freakish goblin that called itself Cassidy turned to face her only living friend. Her eyes were far more red than white now, with a healthy coat of black underneath them. The skull underneath her face ached to get free, stretching the skin imprisoning it to an unhealthy, ghoulish extent. Her limbs looked as skinny and hard as her javelin now; one strong move and they would snap like straw.

"M-Maria," she sobbed, dropping to her hands and knees. "Please... help me..."
WickedIcon: i just launched a baby wearing a denim jacket and a bowler hat across a hospital, through a window, killing several patients, destroying thousands of dollars of equipment, and finally coming to rest on the body of a presumably dead clown
WickedIcon: this is the best dollar i've spent in several years

chitoryu12I have yet to find gay sex that involves the men punching each other. I must not be on the internet enough

Turning Pages: Read some books along with me, why don't you?

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V5:
Arthur Wells: The Artist ... ... ... ... ?
Rose Matheson: The Sprinter ... ?
Ilya Volkov: The Wrestler ... ... ... ... !
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Super Llama
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STILL THE BEST 1973
[ *  *  *  * ]
Maria nearly jumped out of her skin when she was greeted by the sound of Cass yelling at some unknown assailant inside the building.

"Cass?"

No.

Maria stepped forward.

No.

She started forward at a hurried pace.

NO.

She broke out into a full-on run.

"CASS!"

"You may have killed ULYORP, but YOU WON'T KILL MARIA YOU CUNT!"

Maria didn't even have time to think about what the hell Cass was yelling about an ULYORP. Images were flashing in her mind of Cass' dead body, shot through the head, or her throat slit, or stabbed through the heart, and herself, left all alone in this cruel unforgiving place.

She couldn't stand it. She couldn't stand to be alone.

Finally she found Cass, sobbing and looking like death warmed over, but the assailant was nowhere to be found.

"W-where are you!?" Maria shouted, on the verge of panicked tears herself. She pulled the flare gun out, looking behind workbenches and pieces of machinery for that mystery assailant. Taking a while to finally start to calm down when it seemed that the assailant was long gone by now. And with that, her attention was turned to Cass, and it nearly broke her heart to see her like she was. And for some reason, it was starting to remind her a bit of herself right now.

"C-Cass, it's okay." She said, her voice shaking and uncertain despite her words as she pulled Cass into a protective embrace, flare gun still at the ready as her friend sobbed against her shoulder. "It'll be okay. We just need to go find somebody to get us out of here. It shouldn't take too long, right? J-just watch, w-we'll be on a boat out of here in just a couple days, and then the government will send in their crack commandos and they'll kick these guys' asses and karate chop Danya in the face, and we'll be miles away, and you, me and Duncan, we'll all go home and crash in a decent bed and just sleep for a whole week, and then we'll go out and grab a pizza or something, and everything will be back to normal. I-I mean, Warren will still be still be gone, but other than that everything will be back to normal." The more she talked, the more it sounded to her like she was trying to convince herself, and the more she realized that it wasn't working, and that for some reason, talking about Duncan just made her feel even worse.

The two of them stayed like that for a long time after, and Maria didn't know when exactly the two of them fell asleep, Maria still hanging onto Cass, though with the flare gun finally tucked back into the back of her pants. But for the first time in as long as she could remember, Maria Graham didn't dream.

----------

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH

Maria winced and reluctantly opened her eyes as the terrible ear rape that cued the morning announcements came. Sitting up, she listened as Danya listed off yesterday's dead, as soon found that she just couldn't bring herself to care about any of it. Stabbing, dynamite, suffocation, it all just seemed to blur together now.

All but one.

"Lombardi, seemingly not content, then went off and sprayed ULYORP FLARGLE full of bullets."

The headache came back. Dammit, what the hell was this all about? She was definitely missing something.

Not important.

Bullshit. Something happened, and she KNEW that it happened, and she knew that she knew how it happened. But she just couldn't recall.

Not important.

No! Maria reached deep down, trying to pry that memory out, to bring it to the forefront. There were gunshots. Several of them. And there was that british guy, with that evil look on his face like he was some kind of damn cartoon supervillain as he held some kind of submachine gun. But there was more that she was missing.

You don't want to know.

BULLSHIT! She wanted to know! Why the hell was he hiding this from herself? What did she see? Why was thinking about Duncan so painful now?

And then the connection was made.

And Maria remembered.

And then she wished that she hadn't.




The sound of several shots from a submachine gun hitting Duncan in the back. The surprised, pained look on his face as he fell right on top of her, moving to try and shield her from the gunman in his last moments. The ragged, gasping breathes, the warm feeling of blood spilling over her. The sound of Duncan trying to say his last words to her, but nothing but desperate gasping coming out. The feel of open gunshot wounds as her hands inspected his back, trying to make sense of just what the hell happened. The slowing pace of Duncan's breathing as the life bled out of him and right onto Maria.

Slower...

Slower...

Slower...

Slower...

...and then nothing.





Duncan is dead.



Duncan is dead.



Duncan is dead.



Duncan is dead.



Duncan is dead.



Maria's mind locked up, that single phrase repeating itself over and over in her mind.



Duncan is dead.



Duncan is dead.



Duncan is dead.



Duncan is dead.



Duncan is dead.



Duncan is dead.





She wanted to scream. She wanted to yell, she wanted to curse, she wanted to break things, she wanted to die, she wanted to kill the bastard that did this. She wanted to do all that melodramatic shit you see in cheesy movies when somebody dies right in front of the main character.

She opened her mouth.

And out came a pathetic squeak.
Edited by Super Llama, Feb 8 2011, 02:31 PM.
Posted Image
Enough expository banter! Now we fight like men! And ladies! And ladies who dress like men! For Gilgamesh...it is MORPHIN' TIME!

V5 hopefuls:
Hiro Fukuyama: "N-n-no, I-I'm not scared."
Lucy Rosenberg: "If you're looking for friends, I don't think I can help you with that."
Angus McDonald: "To hell with you! If anyone here deserves to live, it's me!"


The Dead


banthesun
 
She wanted those horrible metal balls to stop banging against her legs

ZombiexCreame
 
But would Celeste even want help from a guy that whips out his pistol without a second thought?
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Fiori
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The Fiorious One
[ *  *  *  * ]
((Maxwell Lombardi continued from In the House, In a Heartbeat))

Whilst it didn't occur to Maxwell at first, actually having a set goal in mind for once was actually quite fun.

The young Englishman had been travelling nonstop for almost an hour now along a dirt road leading from the town. Apparently, according to the map he'd been given, the road in question led towards a location marked as "The Sawmill". A decent enough place for him to start his investigation from the sound of things.

He was still conflicted as to how he should take the realisation that Clio had been killed so soon after they had parted ways. He was disappointed, that was obvious. Clio had been the only person on the entire island whom Maxwell had actually grown quite fond of. Not to mention the only person whose death was actually quite disconcerting. Nevertheless, he knew from the moment he met her that this was the inevitable outcome. She was doomed to die whilst he was destined to carry on living. It was just a shame that she didn't take more people with her on the way out...

Still, at the very least he could find and eliminate this "Tabitha" person as a sign of respect.

Whilst Maxwell knew fine well what he was going to do with her, actually finding her would prove to be the most difficult task. There were hundreds of places she could hide on this island. Hundreds of locations where she can tuck herself away in for days without being discovered. As much as he hated to admit it, actually finding her would prove to be more of a luck based mission then he'd of hoped. The fact that he didn't even know what Tabitha looked like would also prove to be a major problem. The only choice he had really was to interrogate some unlucky sod as to what she looked like and where she might possibly be.

Of course, Maxwell knew that chances of actually finding and killing her before someone else could were highly unlikely. There were still a hundred or so fellow classmates out there after all, so the possibility of someone beating him to the punch was more than likely. Nevertheless, at least he had a genuine goal in mind for once, seeing as randomly wandering around and shooting people on sight was starting to get somewhat tiresome. Effective, yes, but it was slowly getting less fun over time. Besides, the idea of interrogating some poor sap for information sounded like a VERY entertaining way to spend an evening...

Eventually, the looming shape of the Sawmill appeared in the distance, along with the telltale signs of conflict littering the surrounding area. There were at least two corpses, one with an arrow in its neck whilst the other had an arrow sticking out of its eye. And the front entrance of them sawmill was heavily damaged, as if there had been some kind of explosion occurring a few days ago. Hmm, looks as though a battle occurred a few days ago. Best approach with caution in case the victor is still about...

With that thought in mind, Maxwell cocked his pistol as he slowly approached the building, keeping his eye out for any unwanted ambushes. Once he'd arrived by the large structure, he flattened himself against the wall and sneaked along, his gun readied as he headed towards the entrance. As he reached the opening, his eyes caught a telltale sign of life by the entrance...

...Namely someone's unguarded pack.

So, someone HAS been here recently... Unless of course, this bag belonged to one of the stiffs I just passed on my way here. No matter, I'll find out soon enough if there's anyone still inside......

After taking a deep breath, Maxwell peaked inside the building. Whilst he couldn't see clearly at first, once his eyesight adjusted to the light he could finally make out the shapes of various equipment and machines that were once used to chop up and prepare the wood back when the sawmill was still in use.

That, and a pair of helpless girls sitting around in the darkness.

Ahah, so I was right! This place isn't as abandoned as I first thought... Hmm, do they look armed? Can't see any weapons from where I'm standing... No matter, there's nothing either of them could do to stop me anyway. All I have to do is show them that I'm armed and they'll be helpless to do anything about it. Then again, I guess I COULD just shoot them both from here and get it over with. But then I'll have to find someone else to interrogate for information now, wouldn't I?

With his mind set on acquiring the info he needed, a smirk appeared on Maxwell's face as he stepped out into the opening and aimed his gun at the pair of girls before him.

"Good morning! I see you're both wide awake and ready for the day ahead..."

With his sights still trained on his two victims, Maxwell slowly approached them as he continued talking.

"...I'm terribly sorry if I'm interrupting anything, but as it happens I'm in something of a hurry, so if you could both kindly shut up and be quiet unless I specifically ask you something, that would make things a LOT easier for both of us. After all, it'd be a shame if I was forced to silence either of you before I can get the answers I need..."

Hmm, strange. I could have sworn I've met these two particular harlots from somewhere before... Where on earth could I have seen them? Anywho, it doesn't matter......

"... Anyway, I suppose I'll cut to the chase. I'm guessing you both know who I am? Everybody else on this damn rock seems to... So I'm also guessing that you both know fine well the reputation I've earned, and how lucky you both are that either of you are still alive right now. That being said, how long your luck will hold out depends entirely on whether or not you'd be willing to part with some information. As it happens, I've recently been looking for someone by the name of Tabitha Gwenyth. Whilst I doubt either of you know where this Tabitha may be at the moment, if you could be so kind as to give me a description of what she looks like I'll let you both have a head start in running away. What, you didn't think I'd waste this opportunity to reduce the competition some more, did you? At least this way you'll have a miniscule chance of actually getting away rather than a guaranteed chance of getting shot in the head. Besides, I've always found the thrill of the hunt to be far more exciting than simply executing someone on the spot..."

Now THIS was more like it. Far more entertaining then shooting someone in the back from behind a couple of trees. This way, he could take pleasure in having someone at his mercy. Enjoy being the one with the upper hand for all its worth. Relish the feeling of superiority for as long as possible.

"...So, what will it be? Either, one of you tells me something useful about this Tabitha Gwenyth and be given the opportunity to escape, or I simply kill you both on the spot right now rather than waste my time any further..."

A cruel grin appeared on Maxwell's face as he said those last few words, his glock aimed directly at the two girls as he stood barely a couple of metres away from them.

"...Your choice."
V5 Characters

Brian Zhdanovich - Homestead
Ruby Forrester - Shopping Mall
Jenna Rhodes - Hotel

Deceased V4 Characters
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Solitair
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Where modesty's ill manners, 'tis but fit that impudence and malice pass for wit.
[ *  *  *  * ]
She didn't have the strength to push away from Maria's embrace, no matter how much she wanted to. All Cassie could do was shiver in her arms, tears gathering in her eyes as Maria filled her ears with a desperate fantasy, a fairy tale that made her voice waver and crack. Cassie couldn't even say a word against it; she couldn't decide whether it would be crueler to let her delusion stand or to try and kill it, to tell Maria that Duncan would never sleep or eat pizza ever again, because a figment of her imagination some guy with highlights decided he didn't like him.

Cassie's vision seemed to get worse with each passing second. Not only were the tears making everything incredibly blurry, but she couldn't focus on anything; Maria's back looked like two ill-defined blobs of color, and any texture the wooden floor had was lost, leaving only a monochrome field of brown, slowly darkening to black as her eyelids slowly pulled themselves together.

-----

The water soothed Cassie's legs as she kicked them back and forth. It wasn't even that cool, verging on tepid, actually, but just the feeling of submerging her legs after the endless running of the last few days was a breath of fresh air. The sun's rays poured through the cloudless sky and gave Cassie's exposed skin a nice tan, doubly baking her underside through her cement seat. For a moment she pondered jumping in and going for a swim, but when the body bumped against her leg, she remembered why she hadn't yet.

It floated face down, whatever was left of its hair brushing up against her shin. She shuddered and pulled her legs back up and out of the water, leaving that familiar body to drift away. Thank God she hadn't seen his face. She didn't want to see what became of it.

Her bare feet soon started to burn on the hot roof floor, so she was forced to sit cross-legged on the ledge, balanced between two unpleasant realities. She buried her face in her palms, which soon turned to clenched fists.

"For fuck's sake, Winston, come on out! I know you're coming, so just get the goddamn show on the road!"

She felt his back against hers, a feeling that might have made her pulse quicken in any other circumstance. But not here; too much had happened since they'd last seen each other for real. "Cassie, what's wrong? I think we need to talk about it. You might not have much more time to sort things out."

That made her laugh. "Alright, you wanna talk? Let's start with the fact that you're not fucking real. This place is killing my mind and making me go insane. You turn into a fucking stalker and try to make me kill my friends, then you pop back up the night after and act like you didn't do shit! The real Winston wouldn't do anything like that!"

"And what would the real Winston do?"

A sigh left Cassie's mouth. "I don't know. He probably wouldn't really be that interested in me, honestly. He'd probably be Maria's fucked-up hallucination, if anyone's. At least she was in the band."

"You act like I- like the real me never noticed you. You've talked. He thanked you for the logo. You met him backstage more times than you can count."

"Yeah, but that never really felt more than a perfunctory thing, you know? He talked to some of the other fans just as much as me, and he never took any of my hints! Remember that bouquet I threw onstage that one night?"

"The one that got battered around in the mosh pit and was missing most of its petals when it landed onstage?"

"Yeah, that one. He never mentioned it to me once!"

"Maybe I- dammit, maybe he just wasn't interested. Maybe he thought it was cute... but he wanted to spare your feelings. Maybe he was about as nervous about it as you."

"I should have just told him," she sobbed. "I should have let him know for sure. Then I'd know for sure!"

She felt one of his hands pat her on the shoulder; she cringed, but ultimately let it happen. "You were right, you know. The mean you."

"How's that?"

"Maria and I aren't going to make it out together. If I ever want to see you again, she has to die. But... but it's not worth it. You're not... a stupid crush isn't worth it."

"You don't love me?"

"I don't... I love your voice. That's the only part of you I really got to know. You've got the most beautiful voice I've ever heard in my life, but that's not enough!"

"What about the rest of your life? You're a great artist! You're such a bright and talented girl and your parents'll be so heartbroken to know you're dead!"

"Don't you think my parents are already heartbroken? And there are a lot of girls like me out there. The world won't miss one more."

"Cassie, look at me."

She shook her head, then felt both hands on her shoulder, urging her to turn around. At first she resisted, but eventually she acquiesced, reversing herself and slowly looking up into Winston's eyes.

"I don't want you throwing your life away for nothing, Cassie. Just hold on a little longer, and something'll come up."

"No it won't."

"Yes it will! If you have to die, the least you can do is die without doubt, without regrets. Promise me you'll try!"

"...okay. I'll try." She didn't know how she could possibly live up to that promise in the hopeless waking world, but somehow she was already starting to feel better about what was left of her future.

Winston simply nodded in response, and turned outward, to the flooded ruins of St. Paul. The sea had risen over the tops of all but the tallest skyscrapers, and bodies floated everywhere. Cassie shuddered at first, but then noticed that the buildings were sinking even more, and the concrete under her seat was starting to soften, slope out, turn to sand. Before she knew it, she sat on the beach, just her and Winston leaning against each other, watching the most beautiful sunset of their lives.

For the first time in six days, Cassidy Wakemore was at peace.

there is no nation of you
there is no nation of me
our only nation lives
in lucid dreams


God, she needed that.

Cassie's eyes opened to see that she was using Maria's chest as a pillow. She got back up and picked her stuff up, catching a whiff of herself as she moved. Jesus Christ, she reeked. It'd been nearly a week since she changed her clothes, and all of the sweat that squeezed out of her skin while she ran everywhere didn't help matters at all.

"You awake, Maria?" she asked, seeing that her friend was indeed getting up. "Listen. I'm sorry I've been so jittery lately. It's just... jeez, this is gonna sound so stupid... I've been seeing Winston here. I've... always had a crush on him, ever since I first heard him singing. And now he's telling me I have to kill people to see him again, and then he's apologizing, and I don't even know what's-"

"Good morning! I see you're both wide awake and ready for the day ahead..."

No. Nononononononono. She was just starting to get better! She'd made peace with Winston and for the first time in two days her head felt clear. Now she turned and saw that the highlight asshole who killed Duncan now had his death cannon pointed squarely in her direction. She tensed up, gripped her javelin, teetering on the edge of whether or not to interrupt this pompous son of a bitch with a sharp, to-the-point retort. But then again, gun beat javelin. No matter how much she tried, all this guy would have to do would be to aim and pull one finger, and bang. No more Cassidy.

It was the hardest decision she would ever have to make in her entire life. Neither she nor Maria knew jack shit about Tabi Gweneth, which meant that the psycho in front of them would get two more kills that day. She didn't want to think about dying, didn't want to give up so soon on her chances, but she had to face facts. There was no way that she'd last another week. She'd practically fallen to pieces when Duncan died; what would happen to her when Maria went the same way?

The douchebag was finishing his little drama speech, and got close to the two of them. She noticed that his gun was pointed slightly toward Maria now.
without doubt
As he said his last words on the subject, she sprung into action, jabbing her javelin at him in a clumsy stab, then tackling him headfirst, hitting him in the stomach. "RUN!" she shouted at Maria, giving her one chance to escape.
without regrets
She hoped to God she'd take it.
Edited by Solitair, Feb 14 2011, 04:46 PM.
WickedIcon: i just launched a baby wearing a denim jacket and a bowler hat across a hospital, through a window, killing several patients, destroying thousands of dollars of equipment, and finally coming to rest on the body of a presumably dead clown
WickedIcon: this is the best dollar i've spent in several years

chitoryu12I have yet to find gay sex that involves the men punching each other. I must not be on the internet enough

Turning Pages: Read some books along with me, why don't you?

V4:
Spoiler: click to toggle


V5:
Arthur Wells: The Artist ... ... ... ... ?
Rose Matheson: The Sprinter ... ?
Ilya Volkov: The Wrestler ... ... ... ... !
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Super Llama
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STILL THE BEST 1973
[ *  *  *  * ]
That voice.

Maria had been listening with half an ear to Cass as she talked about seeing Winston around, feeling rather guilty that she felt even a little relieved that she wasn't the only one suffering as bad as she was here. As she listened, however, she looked back down at herself, her hands and much of the front of her body covered in dry blood.

This...this is Duncan's blood...

Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit her like a freight train, and she was about to hurl when she heard a voice, looking up to see who it was, and...

The sound of gunfire. The sound of bullets ripping through clothing and flesh. The sudden impact of Duncan colliding with her, knocking them both to the ground. The sight of the killer, holding the submachine gun that killed Duncan McMahon.

The red highlights.

The look of perverse satisfaction.


"...you're the one that killed Duncan."

What color was left in Maria's face drained right out. Apparently, killing Duncan just wasn't enough. He had to come back for more. Every smug, arrogant word out of his mouth was a dagger in her chest, a reminder of when he gunned Duncan down right in front of her. Fear. Loathing. Rage. All three were roiling beneath the surface, and at the same time she wanted to run away as fast as she could, and to pounce on him and smash that face to a bloody pulp.

Wait a minute.

Giving them a head start in exchange for information?

Was he playing GAMES with them?

People were dying horrible deaths in droves, and he was PLAYING GAMES!?

She wanted to be somewhere else. At this very moment, she wanted to be anywhere on this goddamn island but here. Just being in this guy's presence was bringing out so many ugly emotions. This guy was toying with them, that cruel smile on his face, the day after he gunned down Duncan in cold blood, caused his blood to spill all over her, caused her to confess the feelings she'd been stewing over this whole time to a corpse. Because of him, she'd never see him again. Even if she got her friends off this rock, he wouldn't be coming with. Oh how she wanted to pay back everything he'd caused tenfold. How she wanted to just lose control and rip his throat out with her te-

Huh? ...Cass?

C-Cass, what are you doing?

No! No Cass, don't do it!

Before she could even properly react, Cass seemed to have come to terms with their hopeless situation and charged in, knocking Lord British to the floor.

"Cass...n-no, please, don't make me run..."

She didn't want to run away. She wanted to run in and kick the gun out of his hand. She wanted to help. She didn't want to leave Cass behind, to end up all alone.

But she was so scared. For all the murderous rage she felt, she was still scared. Lord British still had the gun, and could still shoot the both of them. Her flare gun wasn't going to do much good with Cass in the way, not to mention it was fucking flare gun and wasn't designed to outgun a pistol.

She didn't want to leave Cass.

She didn't want to be all alone.

But she didn't have a choice.

"DAMMIT!"

She didn't know if she was running as fast as she did when Francine caught fire, but if not than it was pretty damn close. Maria was never really a religious person, but right now she'd be willing to straighten up, join a convent, take a vow of silence, a vow of celibacy, fuck, a vow of ANYTHING, and spend the rest of her squeaky-clean life in the undying service of the Lord if he'd just grant her a miracle right now. If only he'd cause the gun to jam, or run out of ammo, or to let Cass get the gun out of his hand, or just kill him before he could get a shot off. ANYTHING other than what she feared with all her being was going to happen next.
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Enough expository banter! Now we fight like men! And ladies! And ladies who dress like men! For Gilgamesh...it is MORPHIN' TIME!

V5 hopefuls:
Hiro Fukuyama: "N-n-no, I-I'm not scared."
Lucy Rosenberg: "If you're looking for friends, I don't think I can help you with that."
Angus McDonald: "To hell with you! If anyone here deserves to live, it's me!"


The Dead


banthesun
 
She wanted those horrible metal balls to stop banging against her legs

ZombiexCreame
 
But would Celeste even want help from a guy that whips out his pistol without a second thought?
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Fiori
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The Fiorious One
[ *  *  *  * ]
As it happened, Maxwell was expecting there to be some form of resistance from his two captives. Some cliche phrase, a profane remark or two, maybe even a witty one-liner if her was lucky.

What he hadn't of anticipated, though, was for one of the girls to actually be stupid enough to charge at him. An idea Maxwell had thought to be so idiotic that he hadn't even considered the possibility that one of them would actually do it.

Jesus Christ! What in god's name does she think she's-

"-OOMPH!!!"

Whilst ambitious young killer was quick enough to lean out of the way of the blue haired girl's clumsily jabbed javelin, he wasn't quite quick enough to dodge her as she collided head first into his stomach, winding him badly and causing him to stumble onto the floor with a loud thud. The impact of the fall was made all the worse by the fact that he had his bag slung over his back at the time, and that the same blue-haired-bitch who'd knocked him over had now fallen right on top of him herself. The end result was an experience which was more than a little painful for the young Englishman.

However, whilst Maxwell had been temporarily taken aback by the blue-hair's sudden attack, it didn't take long for him to regain a hold on the situation. Quite literally in this case, as he clutched the back of Cassie's hair and tugged back as hard as he possibly could. Luckily for Maxwell, in all the confusion, he still kept a firm grip of his gun the whole time.

It didn't take the young killer much effort to position the gun so that it was aiming directly at his assailant's stomach.

Nor did it take much effort for him to pull the trigger...


BANG!


...Twice, just for good measure.


BANG!


The girl on top of him jolted two times as Maxwell literally filled her stomach with lead, falling off of him easily as Maxwell swiped her aside with his hand and stood back onto his own two feet and adjusted his tie. Damnit. Crazy bitch nearly got blood all over my suit. Anyhow, where was I...

...Ah yes, the other girl.


He glanced over in the direction of the other girl, the one with blue highlights in her hair, expecting to find her whimpering on the floor after witnessing her friend getting gunned down before her very eyes.

However, as it seemed, her friend had decided to do the smart thing and run.

Maxwell couldn't help but smile wickedly as he aimed his pistol in her direction. Atta girl. Make things more interesting why don't you... Shame you won't be able to get very far.



BANG!

BANG!

BANG!



It was a clear series of shots. All three of them should have been able hit her, no problem. And yet somehow, the young Brit has missed with all three of them, and could only watch helplessly as his prey disappeared around the corner of an open doorway...

...All because that same blue-haired-bitch who had winded him barely a minute or so ago had enough strength left in her to grab onto his leg and throw his aim off guard.

What in the?!? You little cunt! How DARE you throw my aim off guard!!!

With a vicious look in his eyes, Maxwell kicked the weakling clutching onto his leg in the face, aiming right between her eyes as he prepared to eliminate the nuisance once and for all... Until a thought occurred.

Waitwaitwait... How many bullets did I use there? Five? Maybe four? I'm guessing five... And I had about six to start with when I came in here, right? So that leaves me with one bullet left... Hmm, best not waste it on this cretin. Can't waste time reloading when I could be spending it chasing that other girl down...

The young killer's eyes darted about the area, looking all around for an alternative method of finishing off the bitch without wasting his last bullet. Eventually, he spotted exactly what he was looking for, and a cruel grin appeared on his face.

After all, what better way to finish someone off then with their own weapon? Especially if their weapon in this case happened to be a particularly sharp looking javelin.
V5 Characters

Brian Zhdanovich - Homestead
Ruby Forrester - Shopping Mall
Jenna Rhodes - Hotel

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Solitair
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Where modesty's ill manners, 'tis but fit that impudence and malice pass for wit.
[ *  *  *  * ]
At no point during her attack on Highlights did Cassie check to see if Maria had taken her advice and ran. It wouldn't do her any good if she did; all that would happen is that she'd leave herself open for an attack. Once she launched herself into him, she'd ball up her fists and wail on him as hard as she could, hopefully killing him before he could get to anyone else.

That could have happened; ideally, it would have happened. Instead, Maxwell did exactly the right thing to save his skin and grabbed her by the hair. Cassie cried out in pain, struggling to break free, then felt her strength draining away as a bullet tore through her belly.

"YEaaeaagh!" Before she could react, there was another gunshot and another searing pain in her gut. The bullets both tunneled out of her back, leaving holes that leaked an unstoppable trickle of blood. The pain was almost unbearable, but Cassie forced herself to blink the tears away from her eyes, to look for her assailant.

He'd already put her out of his mind, looking around for Maria. Cassie didn't see her, thank God, but he did, and he prepared to shoot at her again. Before she knew it, she found her body stretching, practically tearing apart at the seams, as she reached for the bastard's ankle, finally wrapping her fingers around it and giving it the best yank she could.

It wasn't much, wasn't much at all. He failed to topple, getting three shots off, and then giving her a vicious kick to the face. She saw the toe of his shoe rushing right toward her, and then her vision blurred again as a searing pain erupted inside of her head.

It was hard for her to think for the next few seconds. She reached out for the guy who shot her, but found nothing but air; he'd had the good sense to stay at a distance after that. What else was there to do? Maria's fate was out of her hands now.

Suddenly, she knew.

"Winston," she wheezed through the pain, feeling the slickness of her blood spreading down her front and back. "If you're there... I want you to know... I love you. I've always... always loved you... since I heard your voice... and I wish I'd told you before. I don't... don't know it we ever had... had a future... or if I was only... kidding... myself... but I don't..."

She had to say something else, anything else! "Please Winston, you have to make it for all of us. You'e got the voice of an angel. Ple-"

The mother of all agonies forced itself upon her, demolishing her lungs and forcing a gout of blood through her throat. For one second, her vision returned, revealing a very familiar pole stretching to the heavens. She had a pretty good idea of where its base was. Then it blurred again, becoming indistinct patches of color before even that faded to black.

Cassie expelled one last breath, a phlegmy, liquid sound following her last words, and then lay still.

-----

The ugly, hurtful image of Cassidy's battered body flickered on a TV screen thousands of miles away. Its only viewer was a thin singer with platinum blonde hair, and even he had to avert his eyes. The bright face that normally brightened up the stages of the St. Paul underground hung low and twisted itself into a mask of grief. Since he'd first seen Cassie get shot, he hadn't been able to hold himself back, weeping silently to himself as her last words forced themselves through the speakers. One last sob escaped him as she was cut short, and then... nothing.

Winston Parry's voice, the voice of an angel that captivated one of his closest friends, fell silent.

CASSIDY WAKEMORE: DECEASED
Edited by Solitair, Feb 12 2011, 11:24 PM.
WickedIcon: i just launched a baby wearing a denim jacket and a bowler hat across a hospital, through a window, killing several patients, destroying thousands of dollars of equipment, and finally coming to rest on the body of a presumably dead clown
WickedIcon: this is the best dollar i've spent in several years

chitoryu12I have yet to find gay sex that involves the men punching each other. I must not be on the internet enough

Turning Pages: Read some books along with me, why don't you?

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V5:
Arthur Wells: The Artist ... ... ... ... ?
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Ilya Volkov: The Wrestler ... ... ... ... !
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Super Llama
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STILL THE BEST 1973
[ *  *  *  * ]
((GMing...well, not approved yet, but hopefully it will be, since we talked it over already. If not, I'll change it.)

BANG!

BANG!

Maria's heart stopped as two shots rang out, her pace dropping as she almost turned to look at the results of those two shots.

...only for three more to get her moving again, but only as far as the entrance. Hanging by the wall next to the doorway, she realized that she just couldn't run away. Try as she might, she just couldn't will her legs to move her any further. She just couldn't leave Cass. There was nothing she could do to help her, but she still couldn't leave her.

And then Cass spoke.

She spoke to Winston, telling the cameras about how much she loved him. With every pained word she wanted more and more to just swoop in, kick Lord British's head off do whatever first aid voodoo magic she had to do to save Cass. And with every pained word she realized more and more there was nothing she could do. She had all the desire in the world, and not an ounce of actually ability.

She was so utterly helpless.

And then.

*shunk*

Maria didn't know exactly what caused that sound, but she knew exactly what it meant, and with a sob she felt another little piece of herself die.

Run.

Run.

RUN!

Suddenly, Maria felt her legs work again, and without even bothering with her pack found herself bolting before she could even consciously will herself to run.

She ran.

And she ran.

And she ran.

And then a hand grabbed hold of the collar of her jacket.

OH GOD NO.

Maria flung herself forward, trying to free herself from the iron grip on her jacket. She threw her arms backward, sliding out of the jacket.

Only for the butt of a gun to crack against the side of her head.

She stumbled forward, dazed, soon hitting the frame of a door and falling inside. As her focus returned, she realized that she was in one of the bunkhouses surrounding the Sawmill, she tried to get out the way she came in, only to find Lord British blocking her path, forcing her backward.

This was it. She was going to die. Cass had gone and thrown her life away for nothing.

Maria was such a goddamn idiot.
Posted Image
Enough expository banter! Now we fight like men! And ladies! And ladies who dress like men! For Gilgamesh...it is MORPHIN' TIME!

V5 hopefuls:
Hiro Fukuyama: "N-n-no, I-I'm not scared."
Lucy Rosenberg: "If you're looking for friends, I don't think I can help you with that."
Angus McDonald: "To hell with you! If anyone here deserves to live, it's me!"


The Dead


banthesun
 
She wanted those horrible metal balls to stop banging against her legs

ZombiexCreame
 
But would Celeste even want help from a guy that whips out his pistol without a second thought?
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Fiori
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The Fiorious One
[ *  *  *  * ]
Surprisingly, driving a javelin into someone's chest proved to be a much easier task then Maxwell suspected.

First things first, he had to holster his gun before retrieving the sharp weapon from the ground where it lay. After all, he'd need to use both his hands if he was to force it all the way through, seeing as her rib cage would prove to be something of a barrier. Sure enough, as he placed a single foot onto her stomach and drove the javelin into her chest, her rib cage provided little resistance as the sharpened point of the javelin pierced her body, missing her heart by mere inches. Nevertheless, barely a few seconds after Maxwell had impaled her with her own javelin, Cassie's slow and rhythmic breathing died down until her heart eventually stopped beating altogether.

The young killer smirked as he admired his handiwork. For some poor mother and father out there, Maxwell had just taken the life of their little girl right before her prime. But for Maxwell Lombardi, her death at his hands was just another tick to add to his list. How many was it now? Nine? Ten? He was beginning to lose count by this point...

Whilst Maxwell had been preparing himself for the coup de grace, he couldn't help but overhear his victim's last words. At least, he vaguely acknowledged them anyway. Something about some cock by the name of Winston? Her boyfriend, maybe? He wasn't particularly listening at the time. Nor did he care in the slightest. She was dead, he was alive, and there was still that other loose end to deal with before he could leave this place.

Well, one idiot down, one more to go. I think I've given her more then enough time for a head start anyway...

On that note, after dropping his pack onto the floor and drawing his pistol, Maxwell turned for the door and ran in pursuit of the other girl, hoping to catch her before she could actually get away.

However, as he stepped through the door, the sight of his victim's companion fleeing into the distance was more then enough to convince Maxwell that there was still a chance that he could kill two birds with one stone that day. Or, one bullet in this case, which meant that he couldn't waste it by blindly firing at her from a distance. He'd have to get up close though. Knock her down first so that he could get a clear and easy shot. THEN he would shoot her whilst she's helpless to do anything about it. Sounds like an almost foolproof plan to me...

...Almost...


With a definite goal in mind, Maxwell bolted from where he was standing in the direction of Maria, hoping to catch up with her before it was too late. For what seemed like minutes he pursued her, dodging past debris and around numerous corners and he desperately tried to catch up. This girl as it seemed was a lot faster then Maxwell had first anticipated... Who was she anyway? It wasn't until that very moment as he pursued her that it dawned upon Maxwell that he hadn't a clue who this girl even was. Who knows, maybe she was the very same girl he was looking for. Hell, maybe the girl he just killed was the one he was looking for the whole time. It would have been an awful shame if that was the case. After all, Maxwell wanted Tabi Gweneth's death to be far more... Memorable.

Eventually, from the looks of things he'd managed to finally catch up with her. With a cruel grin on his face, the young Englishman extended his arm in an attempt to grab Maria by her hair, only to grab her by the collar of her jacket instead. Nevertheless, whilst she quickly flung her arms back in an attempt to slide out of it, Maxwell took the opportunity to slam the butt of his gun on the back of her head, causing her to stumble forwards and crash through a door that was directly in front of them.

Maxwell slowed down to a halt and smiled as he watched his prey scramble away pitifully in an attempt to get away, despite the fact that it was obvious that by this stage he pretty much had her cornered against the wall. The room she had crashed into from the looks of things was something along the lines of a narrow bunkhouse, with rows of bunkbeds on either side blocking any possible attempts at escape that she could make. That, and the fact that Maxwell was in the way of the only way out was more then enough of an ego boost for the young Brit to feel as if he had the situation completely under his control as he neared closer to his prey.

And why not? He was the one with the gun after all. And it wasn't as if there was anything this girl could do or say that could change anything. Even if she told him the whereabouts of Tabitha Gweneth in a cowardly attempt at pleading for her life, he'd probably shoot her in the head anyway in order to tie up loose ends. She knew that he had no intention of sparing her life anyway...

"Well, guess this is the end of the line. Its a shame, really, that you have to die now. None of the people i've killed so far have managed to survive this long... Oh well, life goes on. Well, at least it will for me that is......."

It was at that point, as Maxwell had his gun's sights trained on the girl whose back was now literally against the window on the other side of the bunkhouse whilst he stood barely a few metres or so away from her, that he remembered where he had seen her before.

"...Oh, NOW I remember! I knew I recognised you from somewhere! Your that girl, aren't you? The one that denim-clad sod was running towards... God, what was his name again? Marco? No, that was the other guy... DUNCAN! Thats it! Thats what the daft cock was called..... Well, awfully sorry I didn't finish the job back there and take you out with him, but i'm afraid I had more important things to do at the time. The only reason I shot him in the first place was because the idiot happened to make himself such an irresistible target by standing in the middle of the road like that...

...Still, at least now you can finally reunite with your little boyfriend in whatever lame excuse for an afterlife you believe in. Whereas I get to be one step closer to getting off this rock. So in a way, everyone's happy in the end."

An evil smile appeared on Maxwell's face as he raised the pistol, aiming it right between Maria's eyes. He hadn't any reason to prolong her death after all. Plus, she DID provide a fun little chase. So the least he could do for her was end her life swiftly. Which was quite nice of him, considering.

"...Say hi to Duncan for me." he said with a cruel smirk right before pulling the trigger.......

..........................

........

...click.
V5 Characters

Brian Zhdanovich - Homestead
Ruby Forrester - Shopping Mall
Jenna Rhodes - Hotel

Deceased V4 Characters
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Super Llama
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STILL THE BEST 1973
[ *  *  *  * ]
((Okay, GMing approved this time))

Maria was scared out of her mind. She backed up, her body trembling as she tried to scramble to her feet, only to find that she couldn't seem to find the balance now, still dizzy from the pistol whip. And all the while Lombardi advanced, training his gun on her.

There was no way out. There was no way out.

Tears of frustration and despair started to fall down Maria's cheeks. This guy was the one who killed Duncan, and now Cass, and now she was going to be next, the end of a nice trio kill. Only her encounter with Phil, feeling the life bleed out of her with every blow as she slowly faded out, came close to the amount of fear she felt right now.

Maxwell apparently decided to postpone his kill with a little villainous monologue, first, mocking Duncan as he aimed the gun right between the eyes. She could've charged forward, caught him off-guard and tried to knock the gun out of his hand. Something, ANYTHING other than just sitting around uselessly, if only she could get her damn body to work the way she wanted it to.

"...Say hi to Duncan for me."

What? N-no, it can't end like this!

I can't let him do this!

Warren...Duncan...Cass...Max...Winston...

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry...









*click*









...?

There was no loud bang, no sudden silence, no choir of angels or any kind of shit like that. She was still sitting in a bunkhouse on some godforsaken island, in front of a gun-wielding British guy looking rather surprised and frustrated.

The guy who killed Duncan and Cass.

The guy who killed Duncan and Cass

THE GUY WHO KILLED DUNCAN AND CASS

Maria's fear melted away as the threat of immediate death proved not-so-immediate, and was rapidly being replaced with something else.

Rage.

The blood flowing out from Duncan's wounds as he shielded her in his dying moments.

Rage.

The sound of Cass' voice as she tried to get out her last words to Winston.

He killed them.

He killed them

HE HAS TO DIE

Suddenly, it was as if the dizziness she was feeling had never been there, and it was just the two of them. Her and this monster. Every breath he took poisoned the air. Every step he took desecrated the ground he walked on. Everything he looked upon was tainted.

Monster...

Maria reached back, grabbing hold of the flare gun and bringing it to bare, pulling the trigger. The flare shot out, the ball of fire launching towards Lombardi. Unfortunately, the shot was wild, only glancing off his shoulder before bouncing off of a wall, but the pain it still caused, coupled with the fact that she just shot fire at him, gave Maria the distraction she needed.

In a way, Lombardi could consider himself lucky. Maria was always the scatter-brained one, and never one to really hold a grudge. Even Zach only merited a few childish wishes of minor harm. But Lombardi had finally managed to provoke this kind of violent intensity in her, this sheer hatred.

She pushed herself forward into a crouching position, and then she launched herself forward, tackling his legs and sending them both crashing noisily to the ground.

She'd finish this. Even if she had to tear out his throat with her teeth, she'd finish this.
Edited by Super Llama, Feb 14 2011, 04:56 PM.
Posted Image
Enough expository banter! Now we fight like men! And ladies! And ladies who dress like men! For Gilgamesh...it is MORPHIN' TIME!

V5 hopefuls:
Hiro Fukuyama: "N-n-no, I-I'm not scared."
Lucy Rosenberg: "If you're looking for friends, I don't think I can help you with that."
Angus McDonald: "To hell with you! If anyone here deserves to live, it's me!"


The Dead


banthesun
 
She wanted those horrible metal balls to stop banging against her legs

ZombiexCreame
 
But would Celeste even want help from a guy that whips out his pistol without a second thought?
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Fiori
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The Fiorious One
[ *  *  *  * ]
...What.

This didn't make any sense.

This girl should have been dead by now. His gun should have gone off and put a bullet in her skull. But instead, rather then a loud gunshot, all Maxwell heard as he pulled the trigger was the all-too familiar clicking sound which indicated that he'd run out of ammo.

But... That couldn't be right. He could have sworn that he still had a bullet left over. He'd only used five of his six remaining shots, right? At least, he remembered only using five of them anyway.


Unless.....


....................


....Then it hit him.


.......IDIOT! You only had five bullets left, not six! God DAMNIT Maxwell, next time pay more attention to how much ammunition you're wasting!

Christ, well you better bloody well improvise fast before she decides to-JESUS FUCK, SHE'S GOT A GUN!?!


It was at that point that Maxwell realised that he hadn't anticipated the possibility that this girl wasn't quite a harmless as she looked. Nor did he anticipate the fact that she happened to have a flare gun on her, a weapon she proved to be very willing to use on him. He barely had the chance to dodge out of the way in time as she brought it up and pulled the trigger, firing it in his direction with a bright flash of light. Whilst the young Brit had been successful in making sure that it didn't hit him head-on, the flaming projectile still managed to glance off his left shoulder before ricocheting off the wall onto one of the many wooden bunkbeds.

"AAARGH, MY FUCKING SHOULDER!" he cried out in agony, stumbling backwards as he clutched the injury. Whilst it wasn't quite the same thing as being shot with an actual bullet, getting hit in the shoulder by a flare still stung unlike anything Maxwell had ever felt before. It was as if someone wearing a flaming gauntlet had punched him right in the shoulder blade as hard as he could, leaving behind a black scorch mark on his once clean and white jacket.

BITCH! That jacket cost me over $150! Sure, it wasn't exactly pristine to begin with, but nothing an hour or so in a washing machine couldn't handle! I'm going to have to have it fixed now, maybe even replaced!

Maxwell didn't have much time to mentally rant any further before Maria decided to lunge from her spot right at him, tackling him in the legs and causing the two of them to crash down onto the floor. This time, however, Maxwell didn't keep a good grip of his gun, which was sent flying across the bunkhouse and landed a few feet away from the door.

From that point on, the scene was one of complete and total chaos as Maria scrambled across Maxwell's body, an enraged look in her eyes as she neared closer to the man who'd killed her two closest companions. Maxwell could practically see the fire in her eyes at that moment, a look of burning hatred that reminded him of a similar situation he'd been in a few days ago with a certain Reiko Ishida.

She too had that look of murderous rage in her eyes right before she tried to kill him. In many ways, that situation and this one had many similarities. They both featured psychotic women whom he'd intended on shooting on the spot, only for them to tackle him once it turned out that his gun didn't work.

With this in mind, Maxwell knew exactly what he had to do next...

As she reached her arm out for his face, the young killer reacted by grabbing her by the wrist and twisting it, giving him the opening he needed to strike out with his fist and punch her. As she recoiled from the blow inflicted upon her face, the young Englishman rolled back onto his front and stood back up, only for Maria to attempt to tackle him again. This time however, Maxwell saw it coming, and managed to bring his hands up in time to grab her by the shoulder blades as she grabbed his.

Naturally of course, Maxwell flinched as Maria's hand gripped where he'd been hit by the flare. Nevertheless, he ignored the pain as he kept a firm grip on his opponent, grinding his teeth as he looked her square in the eyes. For a while the two of them stood there, each pushing against the other in an attempt at gaining the upper hand. From an observer's perspective, they each looked as though they were polar opposites of one another. One was a boy with red highlights in his hair who'd slaughtered ten of his fellow classmates whilst his sanity was more-or-less intact, whereas the other was a girl with blue highlights on her hair who'd never meant anyone any harm and yet was on the edge of insanity nevertheless.

Eventually, a smile appeared on Maxwell's face as he allowed Maria to come close, only to then knee her in the stomach. Not stopping for a second, the young killer then struck Maria in the face with his fist, swiftly followed by a kick to her chest which sent her falling backwards onto a bedside table near the window. Thinking that he finally had the upper hand again, Maxwell stalled for a moment as he thought about how he would finish her off. Should he simply choke the life right out of her, like he had done with Augustus all those many days ago? Or should he be a bit more... Inventive, in the method in which he dealt the killing blow.

His train of thought was quickly interrupted again as Maria grabbed a nearby lamp and threw it at him, catching him by surprise and causing him to stumble back as he raised his arms for the impact. After the lamp had been deflected, the young Englishman quickly lowered his arms so he could see his opponent again... Only to find a fist coming right towards him.

Oh shi-SMACK!

The young man stumbled backwards once more as he fended off the chaotic rain of blows Maria was attempting to inflict upon him. Whilst he'd bee unsuccessful at dodging the first punch aimed at his face, he managed to dodge the ones after it at a much more successful rate. He was actually quite surprised by how tough this girl proved to be. At first he assumed that she would just be a pushover who'd rather crawl up into a little ball then actually pose something of a challenge. That being said, for the most part the only reason why she seemed to have something of chance was more because of the sheer ferocity of her attack then any genuine skill or strength. That, and the fact that she happened to catch Maxwell off-guard.

Nevertheless, the ambitious young killer was certain that once he started putting a bit more thought and effort into his technique, then this girl who was actually proving to be something nuisance would go down within seconds.

Little did he or Maria realise that, after the flare had ricocheted from the wall and onto one of the many bunk-beds, a small fire had been started. A small fire that over time slowly began to spread....
V5 Characters

Brian Zhdanovich - Homestead
Ruby Forrester - Shopping Mall
Jenna Rhodes - Hotel

Deceased V4 Characters
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Super Llama
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STILL THE BEST 1973
[ *  *  *  * ]
Blow

after blow

after blow

after blow

after blow.

The resulting brawl had left Maria as battered as before. Blood was leaking freely from her nose from the punch to her face, and the knee to her stomach had succeeded in winding and dizzying her a bit. But still, for every injury inflicted on her, she managed to get one on Lombardi.

That's all that mattered. The only important thing was to make Lombardi suffer and die.

The lamp shattered into pieces as it hit the floor, while Maria landed another punch on Lombardi before the two returned to trading blows. Suddenly, an unexpected kick to the side of Lombardi's knee dropped him to the ground, and Maria landed another kick to his back before he wheeled back around and punched Maria right in the thigh.

...

Ow.

A punch shouldn't hurt that much, right?

Maria looked down to find a shard of the lamp in between Lombardi's fingers. A shard that was now buried on her leg, blood quickly staining her jeans.

Oh...that would explain it.

The attack succeeded in catching Maria off guard long enough for Lombardi to slam Maria against the wall, the monster's hand wrapping around her neck. She felt as her windpipe suddenly closed off, while Lombardi opened his other hand to reveal a few more broken porcelain shards. Slipping one between his fingers, he stabbed Maria in the shoulder, right where the flare had struck him, apparently getting himself some karmic justice first. Maria would've cried out in pain if it weren't for the hand wrapped around her neck, the burning pain accompanying the pain in her leg. Maxwell grinned sadistically, twisting the porcelain shard in the wound and causing Maria's face to contort with pain before letting go and readying the last shard, bigger than the other three, and pointing it right at her heart.

Suddenly, Maria's world came back into focus as the threat of immediate death returned. Ignoring the pain as best she could, she suddenly launched a kick forward.

Scoring a hit right between his legs.

Certainly more than enough to get Lombardi to let go, Maria wasn't finished yet. Ignoring the pain as best she could, her eyes went wild again as the panic subsided and her murderous rage came to the forefront again. Reaching out for Lombardi as he stumbled backwards, she only managed to grab hold of his wrist. So she decided to make do and bit down on his hand.

HARD

Now it was Lombardi's turn to get Maria off him, letting out an angry cry of pain before landing blow after blow on her, punching and kneeing, trying to get her to let go, but only succeeding in getting her to bite down harder, until she tasted blood. It was disgusting, but it wasn't going to make her stop.

No, instead it was the sudden coughing fit and the stinging in her eyes that made her do that.

When did the room get so full of smoke?
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Enough expository banter! Now we fight like men! And ladies! And ladies who dress like men! For Gilgamesh...it is MORPHIN' TIME!

V5 hopefuls:
Hiro Fukuyama: "N-n-no, I-I'm not scared."
Lucy Rosenberg: "If you're looking for friends, I don't think I can help you with that."
Angus McDonald: "To hell with you! If anyone here deserves to live, it's me!"


The Dead


banthesun
 
She wanted those horrible metal balls to stop banging against her legs

ZombiexCreame
 
But would Celeste even want help from a guy that whips out his pistol without a second thought?
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Fiori
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The Fiorious One
[ *  *  *  * ]
It was now official: This girl was the most infuriating person Maxwell had ever had the displeasure of meeting.

The young killer assumed that his little trick with the porcelain shards would have been enough to cripple her, or at the very least put her in enough pain for him to be able finish her off without much trouble. And yet, despite this, she still managed to have enough strength left in her to kick him where it hurt the most. Just like Reiko had done almost a week earlier, after he had inflicted several blows upon her repugnant face.

In many ways, his irrational hatred for the oriental dyke suddenly seemed inconsequential. She had simply been crass minded and incredibly disrespectful... This girl however, was actively trying to enrage Maxwell as much as she could.

The fact that she was now biting down as hard as she could on his left hand made it all the more worse.

AAAARGH! You psychotic bitch! You infuriating fucking WHORE!!!

The enraged killer slammed his fists against his assailant numerous times in an attempt to get her off him, kneeing and punching her as well. But no matter how hard he tried, Maria held on tighter then ever. He could virtually feel her teeth touching the bones in his hand, the pain so severe that it almost made the pain she inflicted upon his groin seem meaningless by comparison.

Eventually though, despite her animalistic ferocity, the girl with blue streaks in her hair stopped as she began to cough uncontrollably. That was more then enough of a distraction Maxwell needed to give her vicious punch to the face with his good hand, knocking her to the floor as he grasped his injured hand.

For a moment, Maxwell didn't consider why she had been coughing. Or why she had she had suddenly stopped biting down. All Maxwell could think about at that particular moment in time was what he was about to do to her for putting him through such pain. The torment he would inflict upon her for her insolence. The sheer agony he would put her through to show her what happened to people who tried to cross him. He wasn't thinking straight, his vision was a bloody shade of red. He was, in every sense of the word, enraged beyond recognition.

...I am going to render your skin apart! Tear you eye balls right out of their fucking sockets! Who the HELL do you think you are, daring to defy me like this?!? I'm Maxwell Lombardi! I'm the one whose going to be winning this game! You? You're NOTHING! A nobody! I don't even know what you're name is, you insipid slut! How dare you... HOW FUCKING DARE Y-

.

.

.

.

...Wait, is that... Smoke?


At that point, the young Englishman was quickly brought back to reality when his nose caught the smell of smoke, and he suddenly realised just how hot it'd become. He'd assumed at first that the reason why he was boiling was because of all the stress and anger her was going through, but as he turned around to observe the scene behind him it became all too obvious what was going on...

...The bunkhouse was on fire.

LITERALLY on fire!

The small flame that the flare had started had quickly grown into a full blown fire, the entire bunkbed lighting up completely. From there on, the fire had spread to the adjacent wooden beds, until the entire bunkhouse was entirely encased in flames. The smoke was almost unbearable... The young Brit had absolutely no idea as to how he hadn't noticed before! The only reason he could think of was the fact that he'd been so focused on Maria, so hell bent on killing her that he didn't acknowledge the smoke or the flames.

Now that he did notice them, all the anger in Maxwell's body had been replaced with a completely different feeling:

Fear.

Jesus Christ, what the hell am I doing here! The place is burning down for god's sake!

Without even considering Maria, Maxwell ran in the direction of the door, covering his face with his sleeve as he tried to make his way through the smoke and flames. His eyes were watering from heat, his breathing hindered by the smoke. If he didn't get out soon, there was a good chance that he could wind up dying there amidst the growing inferno.

Just as he was halfway across the room, he heard a frenzied cry from behind, and turned around to find the girl he'd been fighting running towards at him with a porcelain shard in her hand.

What!?! Crazy bitch, I don't have time for this...

With one quick and precise movement, the young killer delivered a swift kick to her chest, throwing her across the room onto her back. Then, without wasting so much as a second, Maxwell grabbed the nearest bunkbed he could find that wasn't entirely in flames and tugged on it with all his might, pulling it over and creating a flaming barrier between him and the girl.

An evil smile creased his lips as he stood there for a moment, watching the girl from behind the fire and smoke that was surrounding them. He could barely see her in all the darkness now, although he was almost certain that she must of been able to see him. No matter, either way, the fact remained that her chances of survival where now practically nil.

"...As I was saying earlier, say hi to Duncan for me. And that other girl too, whilst you're at it. I'm sure they must be anxious to meet you again..."

On that note, the young Brit turned around, and left without saying another word.

As he exited the building, grabbing his gun on the way out, he quickly slammed the door and ran in the direction of the main building, laying his back against the doorway that led into the Sawmill as he watched the bunkhouse burn. For a few minutes, Maxwell simply lay there and caught his breath, his lungs still recovering from the burning building. His clothing was now covered in ash by this point, his white jacket barely recognizable underneath the black dust. Which along with the scorch mark on his left elbow and the red bite mark on his left hand, and the many bruises that where now covering his body, meant that he had more then a couple of reminders of that little encounter he just had.

Bitch... If I hadn't of wasted all those bullets, I could have just shot her in the head and leave it at that. Oh well, at least I can take comfort in the fact that she's now burning horribly to death now. My only regret is that her demise will be far too merciful compared to the sheer pain I had planned to inflict upon her...

He tried flexing his left hand one or two times, in order to see if he could still use it after she had bitten him. From the looks of things, whilst it certainly hurt to move it, there wasn't anything too debilitating about it. That being said, it still stung far worse then the injury Simon Grey had inflicted upon his ear, and the mark she made with her teeth would almost certainly scar his hand for life. Maxwell had never been more thankful for being right handed at that point then he'd ever been in his whole life..

Just another reminder of what could happen if I'm not careful. So much for returning home unscathed... Ah well, I was bound to receive SOME kind of injury, wasn't I? Nothing wrong with a couple of scars, is there?

Anyway, I best be heading off. I can't spend all day admiring my handiwork, can I?


With that thought in mind, Maxwell slowly stood up and walked back into the sawmill, making his way past the various equipment until he'd found what he was looking for: The corpse of Cassidy Wakemore with the javelin still poking out of her chest.

Not wishing to waste such a useful weapon, the ambitious young killer holstered his pistol. placed a foot upon his victim and tugged it out, the spiked pole sliding out of the fatal wound with her blood still on the pointed end. After throwing his bag over shoulder, he quickly made his way towards the entrance, forgetting to loot Cassie's bag on the way out.

He did, however, stop when he came across Maria's by the entrance. After zipping it open and wiping his hands clean on a spare tissue he found inside, he quickly transferred what little rations he could find into his own bag. The only exception being the bottle of she had, which he opened up and poured right on top of his head, roughly washing most of the ash off his face and hair. He felt more relieved after that, and even emptied a small portion of it onto his injured hand, flinching as he did so.

Once he was all done, the ambitious young killer quickly cracked his neck, picked up the javelin with his right hand, and walked off into the distance.

So much for acquiring some info on Tabitha... Oh well, better luck next time.

((Maxwell Lombardi continued in Requiem for a Rock Star))
Edited by Fiori, Feb 23 2011, 11:23 AM.
V5 Characters

Brian Zhdanovich - Homestead
Ruby Forrester - Shopping Mall
Jenna Rhodes - Hotel

Deceased V4 Characters
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Super Llama
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STILL THE BEST 1973
[ *  *  *  * ]
Maria's world went black for a split second as Lombardi took advantage of her coughing fit and punched her in the face, sending her reeling backwards. It didn't take long for her to get back up to her feet, her wounded thigh burning in protest, tasting blood in her mouth before she looked back to him and noticed him trying to escape.

No.

No, you do not get to escape. You do not get to escape you killed Duncan and Cass you do NOT GET TO ESCAPE!!

Reaching down with her good arm to grab the shard stuck in her leg, she winced as she pulled it out, the tip stained in her blood. She limped towards Lombardi, every step feeling like agony, but soon the pain started to fade from her mind. Even the fire was only barely registering to her at this point. The heat was unbearable, and it was getting harder to breathe with all this smoke, but in Maria's mind all that mattered was Lombardi. She was starting to lose herself. Justice, revenge, any motivation she had to take him down, none of it mattered at this very moment, and she could only think of one thing.

Kill

Maria picked up the pace, porcelain shard in hand, ready to drive it right into the back of his skull.

KILL

Her eyes were stinging, it was getting harder to see, and she had apparently decided to fix the problem of breathing in smoke by not breathing at all, her lungs ready to burst.

KILL

But it didn't matter. Just a little bit closer. Just a few more steps.

KILL HIM

Suddenly, Lombardi grabbed a burning bunk bed, pulling it over between the two. Unable to stop in time, Maria slammed right into it, falling over and forcing the air out of her lungs as she broke into another coughing fit. She could barely see anything anymore. Just orange and black blurs that took the shape of familiar objects. She barely had time to think about the situation she was in when she heard a voice from beyond the fallen bunk.

"...As I was saying earlier, say hi to Duncan for me. And that other girl too, whilst you're at it. I'm sure they must be anxious to meet you again..."

Maria gnashed her teeth as she felt that feral rage returning. How dare he? HOW DARE HE!? She couldn't let it end like this. She couldn't let him get away after what he did. If it wasn't for this fucking bunk.

Suddenly, a thought accorded to her.

Break it down

She slowly got back to her feet, reaching to yank the other porcelain shard out of her shoulder, letting out a pained whimper, that quickly turned into a snarl as she quickly brought her attention back from the pain to Lombardi. Backing up a bit, she planted as hard a kick as she could against the wooden supports with her good leg. The support bent a bit, but refused to yield.

BREAK IT DOWN

She kicked it again.

GODDAMMIT BREAK IT DOWN WHY ARE YOU TAKING SO LONG HE'S GETTING AWAY

Her frustration was building. Stepping back again, she let out as good a battle cry as she could muster before charging it with her good shoulder. The bunk tilted a bit, but only nudged a few inches while the heat brought her searing pain and another coughing fit brought her back down to the floor, the pain throughout her whole body demanding that it be recognized. It was no good. She just wasn't strong enough, and her body was just in too bad a shape.

Oh God. Am...am I gonna die here?

This time it was fear and self-preservation took hold as she scrambled to her hands and knees, moving herself forward as she tried to find a wall.

There's gotta be a window. There just has to be a window. Please let there be a window...

Feeling something against her hand, she wrapped her fingers around it to discover that it was the flaregun. Taking it with her, she bumped into the wall, fighting back another coughing fit as it felt like her lungs were burning. Feeling along the wall, she felt the glass and a great sense of relief as she clutched the barrel of the flare gun and slammed the handle against it as hard as she could.

No good.

Again.

The glass cracked a bit.

Again.

The whole glass cracked, and a chunk from the center fell out for a brief moment a rush of fresh air came in (Oh God fresh air I swear I will never take you for granted ever again,) spurring her onward as she slammed the handle against the glass again and again, knocking out more pieces of the glass until she could climb out.

Dragging herself to her feet, she tossed the flare gun out the window and tried to climb through after it. The window was just big enough for her to big through, and she winced in pain as pieces of broken glass scratched and tore at her skin, cutting through the fishnet undershirt. Finally, she tumbled out of the window with all the grace of a drunken hobo, desperately filling her lungs with fresh air like it was a gift from the gods.

She was a goddamn mess once again, the wounds on her thigh and shoulder still bleeding (though fortunately starting to slow down,) the top-front of her pant leg stained a dark red. And even then, the various cuts all along her upper body from climbing through the window were still there, a few of them bleeding freely as well. Her eyes were red, and everything was a vague haze as the smoke had brought on some serious irritation. The bruises along her body were starting to make themselves known, her face and upper body covered in purple. She just lay there for a couple minutes, her mind blank as she just gulped air like a drowning goldfish. When suddenly...

WHERE IS HE!?

The thought was born out of the fear that Lombardi might still be around, ready to come back and finish the job, but her sheer hate for the boy twisted it, and suddenly she could feel herself starting to move, trying to get up and look for him. It was a strange disconnect: Maria wanted to just keep lying there, but her body seemed to be clumsily trying to get to its feet on its own. It was an odd feeling, that quickly turned terrifying.

No...no, STOP IT!

She tried hard to reason with herself. Convince herself that Lombardi was long gone by now. That there was no point in looking for him. That she just needed rest now. Finally, she conceded to herself, and hit the ground again like a sack of potatoes, curling up into a ball, making herself as small as she could in this huge, cruel world she was currently in. The sobbing came shortly after, sped along by the fact that it hurt EVERYWHERE. The stress was building, festering. All these conflicting negative thoughts, fighting each other for control of her at any moment, were taking their toll. That little world of denial she had going for a while was pretty good. Why couldn't she just go back to that, only better? Nothing was wrong. There were no terrorists, no island, no crazy kids with guns, no innocent girls getting lit on fire. It was just her, and nothing else. Alone.

Alone...

Oh God.

"Ah..."

Duncan. Cass. They're both gone.

"Ah..."

Maria had been beaten and burnt and shot at and generally traumatized. But at least she always had someone nearby to help her get through it. To just be there and let her know that she didn't have to face this alone.

"Aah..."

But now Duncan and Cass were gone. Max was God knows where, and possibly even gone, too. And now she was currently in the worst possible situation imaginable for her.

Alone.

"Aah..."

Maria broke.

"AaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!"


{{continued Down The Road, Not Across The Street}}

{{thread concluded}}
Edited by Super Llama, Feb 17 2011, 07:14 PM.
Posted Image
Enough expository banter! Now we fight like men! And ladies! And ladies who dress like men! For Gilgamesh...it is MORPHIN' TIME!

V5 hopefuls:
Hiro Fukuyama: "N-n-no, I-I'm not scared."
Lucy Rosenberg: "If you're looking for friends, I don't think I can help you with that."
Angus McDonald: "To hell with you! If anyone here deserves to live, it's me!"


The Dead


banthesun
 
She wanted those horrible metal balls to stop banging against her legs

ZombiexCreame
 
But would Celeste even want help from a guy that whips out his pistol without a second thought?
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