One Last Hurrah

Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby malosaires » Fri Nov 22, 2013 10:02 am

Marissa had been up for two days. She'd not heard back from Jim the entire time, and she didn't feel safe going to sleep. She'd been wandering the streets all night, being jostled around the the indifferent crowds, drinking the same carton of coffee. No one cared in a city like this. People didn't even take notice. She didn't go in to work. She couldn't in the state she was in. She doubted her boss would mind. He barely seemed to register she was there anymore.

As the subway rolled on through the city's tunnels, the vibrations of the tracks moving through her body, Marissa her had begin to sag. She snapped up, remembering her need to stay awake. Not here, not on a subway. Maybe when she got home. Maybe it was safe now. She adjusted herself in her seat and drank some more coffee. She'd be fine. She just needed to get home.
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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby ButtChocolate » Fri Nov 22, 2013 2:51 pm

I can't believe any of this is happening. It's all so crazy. I... I'm a freak. I'm killing people. Jesus. I'm a monster. Those garbage cans... t-that man... they just went up into the sky and... and kept going...

Snap out of it. I need to pull myself together. I need to think this all through; What's going on when these things happen? I... I get angry. I get the pain in my head. I almost black out, and then someone dies. I... I need to control myself- control my emotions- my mood- my temper... Ffffffffffff... foot stinging from the cut. . I need to get back to my place- wash this out- get to the hospital. Hope there's no glass in there. Why is this all happening?

Wait, what's this? That man's cell phone. I'll grab it- maybe there's something useful on it. That man, he seemed to know about me- about what I can do- but he said this thing... it was going to kill me. Me? No- he said "you guys". "They're going to kill you guys!" Are, are there more people who can do what I can do? fffffffffffffff. mmmmmph. Hurts so much to walk on this.

I'm almost back to my place now. Just... just think rationally about all this... maybe there are more people who can do this, maybe there aren't. How does it help right now? It doesn't. The only thing I know is that I'm killing people, and someone else knows about me doing it, and says I'm going to die and-

The landlord's wife is in the hall. Just act naturally.


"Uh, hey Mrs. Kurtzman, I, uh... Oh, don't worry about my foot- I was just, uh, getting rid of the trash. Stepped on a ketchup container- got it all over me. Uh, just tell Mr. Kurtzman I'll have the rent next week, okay?"

Stupid. Trash day isn't until Friday. And ketchup doesn't come from the bottom of your heel.

"What? Who are all those guys in suits in my apartment?" Huh. That was fast. I should get up there, let them know about their frie "Guns? Uhhh, no Mrs. Kurtzman- they're, uh, they're not real. They're just props. We're... we're male strippers. You know, like 'Hot Cops'? Only the theme is, uh... nefarious shadow organizations out to kidnap people who will never be seen or heard from again. It's, uh... very niche. Okay, well... see you later..."

Real smooth, Shaw. Okay, now... Mmmmm. She's gone. And so am I- I gotta slip right back out the way I came... before they see me...

That guy in the alley seemed like he wanted to help me, but a squad of suits with guns doesn't sound like the kind of help I was looking for... Unless I want to end up on a table with my brain dissected... I... I can't go back to my place now...
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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby Sheepman » Fri Nov 22, 2013 9:06 pm

Before Leonard and Apollo knew it, they were touring the country. Every late night show wanted him on for a piece. He hardly had a choice, the tide of public desire just pushed him ever onward.

He wasn't sure what to say in interviews, but it didn't seem to matter. The hosts were charmed by his quiet and simple-seeming personality and outlook on life, and the crowds cheered him every time.

Leonard enjoyed himself, for a time. And fortunately, he had plenty of vacation time banked, so he wasn't necessarily missed at work. But he eventually started to miss it. He would spend evenings cleaning his hotel room. And when that stopped being enough, he began to clean the bathrooms at his hotels. He knew that it was time to go home when he started wandering the cities he was in with a cleaning kit, and cleaning the bathrooms of fast food restaurants and convenience stores.

When he got home, his city was a mess. Well, not really a mess-mess, but no one cleaned her like he did. He almost cried. "Don't worry girl, I'll never leave you again," He said, patting the side of a park restroom.

And it was even worse with all the natural disasters and strange occurrences that had started to pop up. There was rubble everywhere. And Leonard was just the man to clean it up.

But he soon found that fate, or rather fame, was not going to allow that. People started to recognize him. As he removed a discarded television and the bits of glass surrounding it from a sidewalk, people started to come up to him, and try to take a picture with him, or get his signature, or ask him about Apollo and what he was doing. And no matter how much he protested, no matter how much he tried to go back to the simple task of sweeping up broken pieces of glass and electronics, they wouldn't leave him alone.

He got a call from his boss. Apparently people had found out he worked for the city, and were calling the janitorial department, trying to find his address or his phone number or where he was working at that moment, so much so that actual calls for janitors weren't able to get through.

"Look," His boss said, "I know you're not trying to be disruptive, but I don't think this is going to stop. And you're my best worker, but... You're a big star now! There's more important places for you. And you don't need us anymore. It's about time you moved on."

Leonard tried to protest. But, apologetically, his boss told him he was going to have to hang up the overalls.
  • 13

sunglasses wrote:Additionally, I'd like to add that I don't recommend leaving small children alone with Aviel. They may come back crying after being shown the odds that they were going to die horribly in the next 70 years.

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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby Cullenmcpimpin » Fri Nov 22, 2013 9:16 pm

Tommy's mom had just suggested he go to his senior prom with his cousin Bethina. She holds the record for the most gravy consumed in a 1 hour period by a female. She also collected foreign stamps and just like her, her one eyebrow stood lonely and gross. He was not going to prom with Bethina. He would rather go with a hooker. He texted his friends to meet him,in the park for a pickup,game in 2 hours as he went to find a hooker to be his backup,prom date. At least he knew he would be getting some.
  • 9

OrangeEyebrows wrote:Our forum-mate Cullenmcpimpin
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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby Morton » Sat Nov 23, 2013 3:47 am

I knew that Sonia and Russel wanted me to keep a low profile, but I just couldn't shake the feeling that I needed to find Mr. Clay. I felt like it was my calling, if that made any sense. Trying to tell myself I wasn't crazy, I finally got a lead. A woman had called about some suspicious looking men in an apartment where a guy had gone missing. The men weren't found, and neither was the guy. It wouldn't have stood out to me, and probably wouldn't have even made it on the news, if it weren't for this one thing.

The guy had been the eyewitness to the hospital disaster.

I had a feeling it wasn't going to be as simple as staying under the radar. Mr. Clay was already fueling speculation in the media, but they suspected him of being a terrorist. If it hadn't been for all that fear I sensed in him, I would have agreed. But I didn't think so after that. I had to find him.

It was tough finding the apartment because the news station didn't say anything about the address or anything. I couldn't ask Russel or Sonia for help, and they'd be the only people who I could trust with this. Well, them and Ryan, but he had been missing lately. I wanted to find him too, but first I had to find Mr. Clay. It was only by freak luck that it happened, too.

I was trying to apply for a job as a janitor because my savings were starting to run out, and I bumped into a guy walking out. He looked kind of sad, and also really familiar, and I thought maybe he looked like a famous person or something. Anyway, after I did, the guy in the office said that he'd just made a vacancy and I could get a job, and he also offered me a raise right away if I would offer to watch the phones, so that was a stroke of good luck. After I left that place, I found a wallet by the garbage can. All the IDs and stuff were gone from it, but inside was five hundred bucks! I probably should have turned it into the police, but I really needed the money and there wasn't any way to track the owner anyway. Finally, I was heading home, and there was a car wreck in the way a few blocks ahead, so I had to take a detour, even though I was on foot because I'd abandoned my car back at the robbery. As I walked, I did a double take. The apartment building across the street was the same one as from the news report!

The door was locked, but just by touching it I knew there was a spare key under the cactus in front of the other apartment across the hall. I turned the key and in I went. The place was wrecked. I guess whoever those guys were looking for him really wanted to find him, or else just to mess up his life. I looked around for a clue. I noticed a suit coat over a chair, and it didn't look much like something Mr. Clay would wear. I wondered if one of those guys had left it here.

Morton rolled 1d6:
4


It was, and I knew it because he came out, and I tried to hide, but I think he at least heard me. If I'd been just a little faster I'd have completely eluded him, and even more and I would have found a spot I could watch him from. Instead I couldn't see him and he heard me, and started heading my way. I scrunched up in the closet, hoping he would see me if he decided to look in there.
  • 12

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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby FaceTheCitizen » Sat Nov 23, 2013 4:25 am

...
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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby JamesT » Sat Nov 23, 2013 5:13 pm

Jim Tiberius admired his creation:
posters4.png
posters4.png (66.69 KiB) Viewed 16978 times

A hat out of a rabbit! The reversal pleased Jim, and he smiled. It had taken much longer than usual without his medication. The headache had lasted an entire day, and what work he could get done was confined to short bursts. Still, he had finished his first commission, and it had turned out well enough. Hell, maybe he'd go see the magic act himself. As he looked at the poster he imagined all sorts of tricks—women being sawed in half, cards being conjured from thin air, that thing where it looks like you're taking off your thumb but really it's just the thumb on your other hand...

His reverie was cut short when he remembered something: He still had to make the creature.

The creature... it was something he had been avoiding. Something about it didn't sit right with him. Every time he started to draw the beast it seemed like the monster was becoming aware of him, and he always left the preliminary sketches unfinished. He got his stuff out and started to work but after 30 minutes of staring at a blank piece of paper he was ready to take a break. He picked up his coat and went to drop off the poster, and get to clear his head.
  • 12

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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby Psychosassic » Sat Nov 23, 2013 6:13 pm

Alice had spent most of the week moving from her apartment to the library, trying to limit contact with other people for fear of them noticing, or possibly falling into, one of the strange portals that seemed to be popping up all around her.

They seemed to go somewhere different every time; once it was a desert, once it was hovering above some crowded city Alice didn't recognize, and once it even opened into what looked like space. That one appeared to be airtight for some reason, thankfully. Alice tried getting rid of them like she had the one in her bedroom, but it only worked sporadically, although she liked to think that she was slowly getting better at it.

Her phone was starting to fill up with texts and voicemails from concerned friends. She responded as often as she felt politeness dictated, but she declined any offers to go out anywhere. She couldn't keep up with this long, but she was determined to do it for as long as possible.

Sorry I kinda dropped out of the game for a bit there. I've had a busy week, but I'm going to start trying to get back into it now.
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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby ButtChocolate » Sat Nov 23, 2013 8:11 pm

Why couldn't it have been invisibility? Or flying? Or super-speed? Something... useful. Something that couldn't hurt other people. This... thing that I can do- I don't even know what it is for crying out loud- what good is it? I sent an old woman and a guy in a grocery store through the floor. I crushed a man with a machine. I sent another hurdling into the sky. I killed my wife and my...

...

Or is it... me? Is the destruction just a part of me, no matter what? I trigger these things with my anger. Maybe it doesn't matter what power I have... I would still find a way to hurt people with it.

fffffsssssssss- foot stings. These old paper napkins I found in the park trash aren't the most sanitary bandage tied around my barefoot with old newspaper. Hope washing it out with the water from that drinking fountain was good enough to fight infection. Hurts so much to put weight on it- I hope there isn't still glass inside.

I can't go back to my place- I can't even go near my street. It's crawling with suits. I need to lay low- figure out my next move- figure out where to go from here. Take stock. Let's see:

I'm alone with no possessions except for my pants, a ball point pen here from my pocket, and park trash. I've got that suit's cellphone- but who'm I gonna call, seriously? Sis lives in Missouri and I haven't talked to her since before the funeral, so she's no help now. I could try going over Frank's, but odds are them suits've already been puttin' the eye on every one of my former coworkers. I'm tired, and hungry, and now I'm hiding like a rat in this storm drain. I'm on my own. Like I have been for a while now...

...

...wha? Whozuh? Oh... I must've dozed off. Geez. The Sun is halfway across the sky already. I was, dreaming... about Lucy... how it was before-

*Gasp* The pen is- floating. It's floating. I'm making the pen float. I- how do I do that? If I really can control things with my moods, then, what? They either float or- fall? They go up or- down?

Like me. Like my moods. In the grocery store- in the hospital- I was angry. Depressed. Down. Everything was going down. Those people, that machine- went down through the floor. I was depressed about getting hurt at work- the house- it went down through the ground. It wasn't a sinkhole, it was me.

In the alley... tension was high... I chased that suit and my testosterone, my blood pressure- everything was... Up? Including those garbage cans and that suit... I was just dreaming about Lucy- when we were happy- when things were looking up for us... the pen was floating... up...

Jesus. Oh Jesus. Is it really that simple? Are you really that simple-minded, Shaw- so two-dimensional a thinker that that's the best you can even conceptualize about this thing? Things go up or they go down? What a horrible metaphor for your life, indeed. You spent so many years in that warehouse lifting boxes- putting them up on the shelves or taking them down, going nowhere yourself, that that's the best you can do, to visualize the World around you and all its beauty in this simplistic way... It's so fitting. Whatever fate or God determined that you would have this thing- now they mock you with this poetically cruel curse of a joke.

Lookit me now. Homeless and hunted. I'm a danger to everyone around me.

Heh. You worthless, sorry sap. I suppose there's nowhere left to go but Up.
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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby CarrieVS » Sat Nov 23, 2013 10:01 pm

The paramedics lifted the young cop onto a stretcher, a red blanket wrapped snugly around him. The older of the two pulled the blanket over his face, and they took him away.

Alan was sitting on the kerb, his feet in the road, and Alfred was lying with his head in his brother's lap, still panting for breath as his heart raced. The other policeman was on the other side of the street. Someone had brought a chair for him and he was staring into space, answering questions as though hearing them from a long way off.

There were two more police cars at the scene, and several officers. No-one had told them they couldn't go, but the way the cops surrounding the scene looked at them suggested it would be a bad idea to try. Alastair was crying somewhere behind them. Alfred could hear. Albert had his arm around his twin and looked utterly lost. Alvin was keeping watch over the two of them without saying anything.

At long, long last, one of the cops approached them. He spoke to Alan, saying things about their parents and names and addresses. He still did not say that any of them were going to be arrested. Alfred began to shake with apprehension. His brother's grip tightened on his shoulder.

"Just let us go!" Alfred burst out. The policeman looked very strange for a moment, and then said slowly that he supposed there was no need to take them back to the station.

"Go on, you'd better get those kids home."

"What are you doing, Keyes?" Another officer, who seemed to be in charge, hurried over. "There's the original 911 call besides all this, and if nothing else they all witnessed it. Have you even got their names and address?"

"Let us go, please let us go." Alfred was almost in tears. "Don't take our names. We haven't done anything wrong. We just played a prank. Let us go."

The second policeman looked blank for a moment as well, and then calmly told Alan they could leave.

They left their bikes chained up on the waste-ground and walked to a bus-stop, Alan carrying Alfred. No-one said anything while they waited, or on the bus. They got off two streets from home, and walked at Alfred's slow pace. Alastair was very pale. At length, he blurted out, "Am I a murderer?"

"I can't believe they let us go." Alvin chimed in. "They must have been afraid Alfred was going to be ill or something. But"

"Shut up!" Alfred said. The others all fell silent immediately. They had still not said anything by the time they were almost in sight of the house. The silence pressed in on Alfred's eardrums. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean you not to talk at all."

Alan patted him on the head and said with determined cheerfulness "Don't worry about it Alfie."

"What are we going to say to Mum and Dad?" asked Albert. "We got someone k-"

"Don't talk about that!"

"Sorry Alfie." Alan looked meaningfully at the other three over Alfred's head.

"Just... Just forget about it! I don't want it to have happened."

There was a long moment of very strained silence, and then Alastair started talking about something that had happened at school last week. No-one mentioned the prank or the accident. After dinner the death of a twenty-three-year-old police officer, killed saying a child from being hit by a van, was the first headline on the news. The newsreader talked on over a photograph of him. Alfred stared into the dead man's eyes and felt sick.

"Are you feeling alright, Alfie?" His mother asked. He mumbled something about being tired. Alan got up and held out a hand to him.

"I'll put him to bed," he said to their parents. In his bedroom with the door shut, Alfred leaned close to his oldest brother and whispered,

"I'm sorry. It's all my fault."

Alan knitted his brows in confusion, "What is, Alf?"

"You know. Don't make me say it! I don't want to say it."

"Alright, calm down, Alfie. Get into bed now." Alfred got into bed, but stayed sitting up. Alan stroked his hair. "It's ok. I just don't know what you mean, Alf."

"Alan, stop it!"

"Stop what?"

"You're scaring me Alan. You know what happened today."
  • 12

A Combustible Lemon wrote:Death is an archaic concept for simpleminded commonfolk, not Victorian scientist whales.
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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby FaceTheCitizen » Sun Nov 24, 2013 1:54 am

...
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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby Morton » Sun Nov 24, 2013 3:33 am

"Hey."

I stayed scrunched up, hoping he hadn't seen me. I knew he was looking right at me though.

"Okay, I'm now physically touching you. Obviously I can see you."

As soon as his fingers came into contact with me, I saw a vision. There was an old man, probably Japanese. He was looking for people. Looking for me! I didn't sense malevolence from him, though. I sensed something else... fear. Not fear of me. Fear of something involving us. I was already drawing lines between people like me and people like him. We had to do something. I felt like there was a higher calling, and it involved me, and the Japanese guy, and Shaw Clay. And someone else...

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" he said. I was lost in thought. He was shaking my shoulder, and I realized several minutes had passed.

"Uh, I'm sorry. Yes, here I am I guess," I said.

"I have no idea where you went just now," he said.

"Well, I think you might have some idea. I saw your boss. I think I know what's going on."

"You did. Hmmm. So... you're awake too. And you're the guy, aren't you?"

"...yeah. I'm the guy. I think."

"Okay. You're the guy. So I need to take you in."

I gulped. "Um... what does that mean?"

"Look, nothing personal, but I'm going to need to put you down for a little bit."

I didn't like the sound of that. "Uh, I'm sorry, I don't think..." I saw him reaching into his coat pocket, probably for some chloroform or something. I decided it was time to make a break for it. I leapt up and crashed into him, and promptly fell backwards. He was basically a wall. I had no idea what to do. He grabbed my shoulder and I didn't know what to do. In that moment I suddenly remembered the TV, the news. I remembered the hospital, and briefly there was a flash of Shaw's face. I got lost like I had been, and when I snapped out of it, he was stuck to the ceiling. I bent gravity just by thinking about Shaw.

"Well hey, you got it figured out man! All right, just let me down and we can go see Mr. Homoro together, and no one gets hurt, right?" I really didn't know what I was doing, but somehow I figured out just enough to put him on the ground. It wasn't very graceful though. He fell out of the sky and bashed his head. He was out cold. I decided I had to get out of there, but just as I was about to turn the knob, I thought I would search the guy real quick. I took his coat off of him and looked through his pockets.

Well there was the chloroform. He had a taser, no gun, which was a relief to me. Maybe these guys weren't so bad. He had a phone in there too, and when I touched it I got a vision of its history. And then a strange thing happened. It started to tell me all the numbers it had called. And I got a vision of the people holding them. I realized it was because, for a short time, I had Russel's power. It wasn't very strong, but faintly I saw Shaw Clay. He had one of the phones this one had called.

So it was time to leave, and to find Russel. He was better at this. He could find Shaw. I hurried up and left Mr. Clay's apartment.
  • 11

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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby 52xMax » Sun Nov 24, 2013 3:59 pm

After the incident with the falling TV, Alejandro barely escaped from the public eye and unwanted attention by merging into the crowd. People don't usually pay much attention to guys like him, unless it's for the wrong reasons. He would've liked to check in on the people he had just saved from being crushed, but he knew that at worst the woman would have some light bruises, and the child with her was perfectly fine, he had made sure of that before when they landed on the concrete, just in time to avoid being hit. Alejandro thought some of the paramedics or police likely to arrive at the scene might recognize him, and playing the hero again was the opposite of what he needed right now at the station. He was also curious as for the cause of the incident, but he figured it was likely just a domestic disturbance. "Nothing that the blues can't handle", he thought.

Alejandro knew he had to be more careful from now on if he wanted to keep his secret, but other than that, he was running out of ideas. All he knew about these "gifts" he had learned from comic books, and as far as he knew, those stories were all fictional. Besides, he didn't find the idea of wearing spandex and fighting crime at all appealing. He wanted to save people, but he lacked that alpha male bravado all the crew at the station shared, and he wasn't too keen on violence or physical confrontations either.

However, rescuing that woman and her child had been fantastic. It was the same rush he had felt that day when he saved the day at the exploding building. Just knowing that he could make a difference had made Alejandro feel a natural high like nothing he had experienced before. "I could get used to this", he thought to himself as he was riding the subway home. "But I can't keep on doing this much longer. Sooner or later people will start suspecting, and things are complicated enough already. As it is now, I'm not sure I understand what I can do, much less how it works, or even why all of a sudden I find myself in this situation. Are there any others like me out there? is this the first time something like this happened, or has this been going forever? if so, why have we never heard about it before? why are these powers manifesting now? can they just day fade away at the worst possible moment?..."

Alejandro was lost on his own thoughts, so much that he didn't notice when he missed his stop. He got down on the following station, when he noticed someone was following, or at least he thought that might be the case or he was being paranoid on account of his dark thoughts. In any case, a man in an overcoat carrying a newspaper that was on the same train as Alejandro, was now walking a few steps behind him; always keeping the same distance, even when he switched his pace, and even turning down the same streets again and again. Paranoid or not, Alejandro wasn't taking any chances, but rather than sprinting at a corner and going all parkour again, he opted to keep a low profile, and subreptitiously walked into the first establishment he found open. It was a cozy little bookstore.

As the mysterious man in the overcoat walked away, the threat apparently gone for now, Alejandro sighed in relief. Then he turned around to see the puzzled face of the girl behind the counter.

"Can... I help you with something?"

"Uh, do you have... books? I mean, obviously you do... have books, this is a bookstore. It is a bookstore, right? of course it is. Silly me, I can see them from here. The books, that is. What I meant was, what I still mean is, do you have specialty books? like, funny books? no, not funny, comics. But not like comedy books, with jokes, or books on comedy by comedians... not that there's anything wrong with that. You know? the other kind, comic books! that's what they're called. Do you happen to have a section of comic books? not for kids, though, because I'm clearly an adult and I'm super mature. Adult comic books... wait NO! not like that! it's not what you think... or you might not think... again, not that there's anything wrong with that either". And after an awkward pause that couldn't have lasted 5 seconds but seemed like an eternity, Alejandro spoke again.

"Graphic novels (that's it! yeah, not that you sound less creepy, but let's stick with that). You must have some nice graphic novels in here right? some Neil Moore, Frank Gaiman, Alan Morrison perhaps?"

The girl, still looking at him oddly, pointed him to the proper aisle, and sank her head behind a book.

"That was smooth, dude!" he thought. "I think it's obvious by now that this gift of mine is strictly physical and not intellectual in any way. But maybe I can find something about it in one of these books"
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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby ButtChocolate » Sun Nov 24, 2013 4:52 pm

Hmmmm. Let's see who's in the contact list on this guy's cellphone...

Huh. They're all blank. No names. Let me check out the "recently dialed" list and-

Same thing. There's nothing there. No texts, no contacts, no missed calls. No speed dial function. Useless. Makes a good flashlight in this storm drain, I suppose.

Wait, what's that sound? Dogs barking- like a pack of 'em... getting louder. Closer. What the Hell...? Let me take a look at what's going on topsi-

HOLY SHIT! DUCK! The whole park is crawling with those suits. D-Did they see me?!? There's some guys in police uniforms, too. Are they working with cops? Or... are those really cops at all?!? Unless there's someone else who's been murdering people and guys in suits from unknown intelligence organizations roaming around the city, odds are I'm the one they're looking for. Fuck! The phone. Dumbass. You've seen enough Dateline to know they can find cellphone signals. Toss that shit into that puddle over there right now!


*SPLASH!!!*

I gotta keep moving- those dogs'll find my bloodtrail in no time- They're everywhere! Every direction! But where the hell do I go?

Into the sewer. I literally gotta "go underground". NNNNNNrrrrg- But this safety grate won't budge...!

isssshhhhhhhh... foot's still painful. Hurts to stand on. MMMMMMMrrrrrgggg! That fuckin' smarts. Hold on... I gotta- I gotta use it. I gotta use the pain. I can fuck shit up royal with this power I got, I just gotta focus it. On the pain. On the grate. Okay, now, just- concentrate. Hhhhhrrrrrrrrgggg! HRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGG! C'mon you fucker, just do whatever it is you're gonna do! Just fuckin' get angry, make this thing fucking crush itself! HHHHHHRRRRRRRRRGGGGG! C'MON DAMMIT!

It's not working. It's not working! They're getting closer! C'mon dammit, just...

Okay, on the count of three, I'm just gonna do it. I'm just gonna stomp my fuckin' heel down as hard as I can- focus the pain- break that grate open. Here we go. One... Two...


"THREEEEEEEEEEAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHMOTHERFUCKERRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!"

*SCREEEEUURRRRRRRRR CRASHHHHHH!!!*

I... I did it. Heh. Yeah. The grate just collapsed! It went... down! Holy shit did it go down...! There's a giant hole in the supporting drain pipe right through to the soil beneath, I-

SHIT! They certainly heard that- they're coming this way! No time to admire your work, just fuckin' get down there and run...!
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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby FaceTheCitizen » Sun Nov 24, 2013 5:44 pm

...
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