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Legoland Empire; Minutes before Announcement 6
Topic Started: Mar 3 2011, 08:06 AM (6,438 Views)
Brackie
Member Avatar
personification of adhd
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Ma'afu Tuigamala continues from Where Was My Brain?))

No.

No, no, NO.

Maf's hands clenched down on the edge of the desk he was leaning against as he remembered those words.

"Tiffany Baker looked at Jason Harris wrong, which was the last mistake she'll ever make."

Things were out of control.

"We next had a pair of double kills, with Liam Brooks accounting for Raine Schwarz and Ridley Landon. Aren't couple who do everything together just the sweetest?"

Those second words did nothing to obscure the shock of realising how far upon them SOTF really was. When Danya said that his best friends would turn on him, or at least that was the bare basics of every piece of filth that came out of his mouth. It wasn't supposed to be speaking to him. It wasn't supposed to be his friends that were killing people. They weren't meant for him and Nathan, or Jason, or Brook. Those words were only meant for everyone else.
Not him.

At least that's what he'd been telling himself ever since the two of them stopped here. A small office at the back of a giant warehouse they'd scarpered to after they couldn't go to town anymore. Chair under the door. Maf wanted to keep searching out there, but the facts were facts. They promised to meet back at a place that they couldn't get to now, so keeping hidden until then was the best option. A safe option. It wasn't a bad office. Desk, two chairs. Filing cabinet with shipping info and other stuff. Otherwise, empty. There was a tiny window that looked out onto the labyrinth of shipping containers, but nothing else.

It was as though Nathan and Maf were the only things keeping their group intact. It had only been 3 days since the group separated, and everything had already gone to hell. Jason killed Tiffany, of all people, that girl Brook was fawning over. And if Jason and Brook were travelling together, then...Brook must have seen it. Brook killed another two people after that. Death. More death. Death everywhere. They'd already found a body riddled with bullets, and that just had to be enough. No one else was dead here.

No one else to mourn.

At least not until sunrise. Which...was only a few minutes away, come to think of it.

Every word out of Danya's mouth filled him with dread. There was no telling who was behind each name, who would come next. Right after Clio Gabriella could be Jennifer. On the same vein, he'd almost broken down when he heard a Jennifer only yesterday. But it was Romita. It didn't even think of softening the blow. Right after that Jimmy Brennan could be OC. Right after Reiko could be Teo. Endless possibilities. It was the worst time of day.

Maf suspected he was bowing the metal desk out of shape under his weight. Fleeting suspicion. Not much ground. Why did it even matter anyway...

Announcements were coming soon. Maf sat back down in his chair, bag already hung haphazardly on the chair frame a while ago, head hung.
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image

I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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Brackie
Member Avatar
personification of adhd
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
As they ended, yet again, Maf felt a wave of relief wash over him. It was really bitterly mixed with a twinge of guilt, however. He shouldn't be happy that all these people who weren't his friends were dead. He knew most of these people. Kevin, they were teammates. That Maxwell Lombardi got him on his list again, kill number he didn't even know anymore. He was just going around killing, and...what's worse, Brook happened again. He killed some kid, some guy who played guitar at school, Colin.

Nathan didn't take it well. Half the group had just started to kill, and...he was just randomly guessing right the heck out of nowhere here, but Nathan must not have been taking this well at all. Maf turned the chair around just fast enough to see him send the bag flying across the floor, his own gun skidded and skipped lightly before stopping.

It was...Maf really didn't know what the right word for this whole situation was, but...it was like pure blind fate gave the four of them those guns, and now part of him really wished that Jason and Brook lacked such necessities. Brook getting a gun is what gave that...woman, Leila, the upper hand back in the caves. Jason getting a gun ruined any chances of a guilt and incident free meet up, and on the other hand, Nathan and Maf hadn't even thought of using them yet. The closest Maf had been to taking up arms was back when Nick killed the guy they'd only just met in the cave, and even then he was so conflicted about even thinking of killing him that he just chickened out.

As Nathan got his bearings, Maf glanced out the window, that tiny tiny window. The warehouse was almost bare. He could have sworn he saw a girl entering one of the offices on the other side of the building (and she looked like she wasn't afraid, too. She could have been very dangerous, good thing their door was barred), and there seemed to be noises echoing in from outside. Yelling, screaming, not feminine enough to be Brook or Jennifer. So there were other people around now, not much of a surprise.

"There's a lot of people waltzing around out there, Nathan. We'll stay put for now. There's no point in putting ourselves in danger unless it means something." Maf said, still looking at each end of his field of vision for someone he recognised. If Jason really was looking for them, then...chances are here is where he'd look, once he abandoned searching the lighthouse for all it was worth.

And they'd be ready for him. They'd get the whole story.
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image

I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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Brackie
Member Avatar
personification of adhd
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((And I'm back))

He heard it. Maf did too. That voice, that accent, that...Jason.

There was nothing to mistake here.

And now, here it was. What did they do? Urges and instincts told him to go out there and confront him, with their guns clenched in their hands and focused faces and a demand for answers in a place where you weren't likely to get them. On the other hand, who was to say that Jason was alone? That voice...it was only a voice, it didn't have a GPS built into it, or sonar, it just said to those who couldn't see him "Jason Harris is here".

But who else was there?

One of the budding hypotheses forming in Maf's brain was the possibility that Brook and him were working together. The announcements were right; Jason was a murderer, Brook was a triple murderer, you can't get that kind of mileage on a sane and stable mind by yourself. But that girl he was pining over, she was gone...so did he really have a sane and stable mind, wherever he was?

Well...

Maf sat in his seat, just thinking the situation through as many times as he could without making it look like he was simply stalling for time.

What to do, what to do, what to do...

...there's really no other way to do this.

He reached across his shoulder and brought his bag around to the floor surrounding him, fumbling inside. There was something in here that made sure he would get answers. Maf sure as hell didn't want to use it, but...given the situation, and how much they didn't know...

The wooden grip scraped against his hands, and they clenched down upon the tiny gun lofting around in there with his final belongings. He brought it out, plain view for Nathan to see, and turned towards his friend.

"We get answers, Nathan."
Edited by Brackie, Mar 26 2011, 12:34 AM.
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image

I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Brackie
Member Avatar
personification of adhd
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

As Nathan edged open the door, Maf took the time to prepare. Prepare for what? He didn't know what lay on the opposite of that door, and mere instinct told him that nothing would prepare him for the worst. The worst was that Jason was in the process of murdering someone. But it just couldn't be that. It couldn't.

He slipped the gun into the firing position. Something he'd become all too familiar with, unfortunately, having to use a gun like this wasn't detrimental to one's sanity or former clasps to life. He slung his bag over his shoulder, letting it fly and letting it fly far to reach up to him. And he tried to figure out what on earth he needed to say to Jason. What was going to happen, how on earth it was going down.

Of course, think too long and you get way too many of your questions answered for you.

There was a gunshot. A definite, right there. It wasn't aimed it them, that was also a definite. But then...Nathan made the mistake, some stupid mistake, of giving their position right away, like he wanted their aim to be true.

And sure enough, it happened. As Maf stepped backwards, trying to avoid his friend sprawling onto the floor, he saw the rifle, and he saw the flash of the fire. It was pure luck that the bullet imbeded itself in the door, but Maf still scrambled backwards, away from the door and away from visibility. Even with the certainty at hand that his life was no longer in danger at that fixed second.

Of course, there was every single passing fixed second to follow, and another gunshot followed. There was...something off. It wasn't the same sound. Every gunshot sounded the same, true, but it wasn't something he could explain. Just an off feeling as he tried to keep out of sight.

Yes, that question was answered quickly too.

"Nath! Maf! Get down!"

JASON.

They knew he was there, they knew something was up, but of course, it had to be him involved. Maf mentally hurdled down the track and over to the most logically conclusion in place here, but common sense told him to follow their friend's instructions.

A friend.

Forged through fire.

And here was where Maf tried to decide what he needed to do as he squatted down, out of sight, as the battle raged on outside.

You better have something, Jason.

"Nathan, the door, get away from there," Maf's words sliced through the air towards the boy on the floor.
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image

I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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Brackie
Member Avatar
personification of adhd
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Slight godmodding of Quincy approved by the guys and gals in the sky))
((Also, sorry for the general crappiness of the post, but...Maf's needed somewhere else, and I'm about 1 hour away from inactivity, so...))

It was tense, you could cut the overall static and tense nature of the scene with a knife. Quincy was only a weed's whisper away from killing both Maf and Nathan, and Jason seemed intent on taking him out. He didn't know what to think, did Jason even know they were there before he started shooting?

It wasn't time to think of that now. Right now, things were getting too close for comfort. Someone had to do something, someone had to stop anyone else from getting hurt. Someone was already dead, so it was up to...up to someone to make sure that no one else here died.

For the first time now, Maf could see clearly. Jason was outside, taking cover after letting loose a shot at Quincy, and for a brief moment, their eyes met. He saw what was going on in there, he saw Nathan sprawled on the ground, possibly unconcious, possibly just keeping low. Maf himself saw Quincy spin around, reacting to the shot from Jason, rifle poised to kill.

And yet, every little bit of common sense Maf had told him now was the time to do something. Every little bit of common sense told him that it was up to him to make sure that no one else died. But he couldn't, could he? A lone gunman, dangerous, this wasn't going to end with a few words and pleas. This needed force.

Of course, the moment Quincy turned his head towards their friend, the shooter, Maf was on his feet. Everything was blazing through at a billions miles a second, and before he knew it, Maf, the brick shithouse of the Bayview Football Team, was barrelling towards the similarly built, but ultimately not up to scruff, boxer.

Maf caught him around the waist, and the two went flying through the air, albeit only for a minimally short time. Just like that, the gun was spinning across the cement floor, and the Fijian boy got his wish. Quincy was down.

But every instinct came rushing back behind him, and in a matter of seconds, he was back on his feet again, shocked, no, scared at what he'd done.

No, no I-I shouldn't have done that...

That was how the most important, scarring event of his natural life started. A tackle.

Not again.

Not. Again. No way. If there was one mistep in that, one little thing out of line, then it was that same disaster all over again, all caused by him, again.

In those sparse few seconds he had between Quincy having the ability to get up, and him being floored, Maf made his decision. His feet absentmindedly shifted backwards, not of his own will. His breath grew silent. He turned his head, looking around at the people there, people watching. Jason, that girl with the look in her eyes of sheer horror, or something like that, Nathan as well. The dead girl with her shocked face and eyes just...just staring out at him, watching him, looking at him, judging him.

He...no, he couldn't...he couldn't deal with this, not at all. Not again.

Not.

Again.

Maf's eyes flew to the exit, and his feet quickly followed suit, dragging him along for the ride. He had to get away. Away from all of them.

Before he knew it, the air was no longer stale and stagnant, but the wind flew by viciously, as the Fijian ran as far as he could make it.

((Ma'afu Tuigamala continues elsewhere))
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image

I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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