One Last Hurrah

Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby julyjack73 » Sun Nov 24, 2013 6:17 pm

The crowd was stirring in excitement. According to the advertisements, this show was going to be special. New tricks that no other magician has even attempted before.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed. Then they all turned and pointed at the stage. A figure emerged.

First, he took off his hat, and pulled out a rabbit. Then, the rabbit spit out a small piece of cloth. The cloth unfolded into a smaller hat, which he put on the rabbit's head.

"Greetings, ladies and Gentleman. It is I, the Amazing Mr. Copperfield."

The crowd roared with applause.

"Now for my first trick, I will do something that many other magicians have attempted, but few have succeeded. I will catch a bullet."

An assistant produced a gun. "Now, first off, I will prove that these are real bullets." The assistant fired off his first bullet at an empty glass bottle, which shattered as soon as the bullet hit it. The crowd gasped.

"Now, if you will be so kind, would my lovely assistant please aim it directly at me?"

The assistant pointed the gun at him. He read the gun, learning how fast the bullet would go, where it's aimed, and, most importantly, where it would be.

The assistant fired. Russel collapsed. The crowd gasped again.

Slowly, he rose up. He smiled, and opened his palm. Inside his palm was the bullet. He showed it to the audience, who reacted with a standing ovation.
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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby Matthew Notch » Sun Nov 24, 2013 7:03 pm

Russel, awash in the glow of his audience's adoration, was soaring a mile high by the show's end. It was already getting dark out when the audience filed out of the theatre. Russel couldn't stop admiring his work. He just told the gun to take it slow, and somehow it did. The trick where he caused random people's cellphones to call one another was a work of art, though, and the audience was truly stunned. Some of them later ventured a guess that he'd hacked their phones somehow, because they had only a vague idea of how hacking works. Whatever the case, they were still sufficiently amazed, and Russel knew he'd never work birthday parties again.

He changed into jeans and a t-shirt and a hoodie to hit the streets, and when he walked out of the backstage exit, there was Morton.

"Seriously, man? Tonight is not a good night."

"I just need you for this. Just hang with me a second." Morton took out the agent's cellphone and ran his fingers along the buttons pensively. Once again, the network became visible to him, but this time far clearer. Russel's eyes widened.

"Hey. I can see what you see!"

"You can? I must be projecting it into your brain. I really don't know how all this works."

"What are you looking for?"

"I'm trying to find Mr. Clay—"

"Morton! Come on, we already agreed we wouldn't do that!"

"No, we agreed we'd keep our powers secret, and you just used them to make a lot of money tonight." Russel couldn't argue with that, but he had a bad feeling about finding Shaw. Nevertheless, after some searching, Morton thought he'd found the signal of the phone Clay had been carrying, and so Russel agreed to drive him over to find it.




"I think it's safe to assume someone at the library has these powers. We aren't sure who, or which powers they are yet, but we're keeping an eye, Mr. Homoro."

The voice at the other end was muffled with poor reception. "—good, and you'll... when the time comes... know what to do..."

"Yes sir."

"They don't underst... powers they've discov... at all, but a sickness... they will die..."

"Yes sir." The agent pretended the call completely dropped and hung up the phone. "Prodigo, I think it's time to go." The two agents started the car and drove out of the secret tunnel under the highway. It was time to actually bring someone in for a change.




"Is this it? It's in the puddle."

Morton picked it up and held it at arm's length, a little sick by the dirty water. "Ugh, yes. I guess it still works, or else we couldn't have found it."

"But no Mr. Clay."

"Well no... but look over there." From the surface, anyone would have just assumed that the housing for the sewer grate had given way and fell in. There was Caution tape around the hole, but Morton just had a feeling about it.

"Let's go down there." Russel wasn't so sure about that, but he had to admit he was a little curious himself.

"All right, let's do it."

The pair looked twice for anybody watching, then climbed down into the sewers. It had been unusually rainy, and the water was flowing madly to the river. The trail went cold there, but as they ventured further in a vagrant in a cardboard box down there told them he saw an angry man stomp out the grate and go south. He said the cops never listen to him, but the day of reckoning was coming. Russel figured the man was mentally unstable, but Morton said any lead was a good lead. It was clear there wasn't going to be any swaying him.

After walking for what seemed like an eternity in almost total darkness, they came upon a small outcropping tunnel that led straight out of a cliff face and plunged the water hundreds of feet down into the river. They'd come very far, only to lose the trail completely.

"What do we do now? We've got to be miles from my car at this point."

"Come on Russ, it's not over yet." Morton touched the grate, hoping for a trace of Mr. Clay's presence to tell them where to go, but there was nothing.

"nnnnnnnnnnuuuuuuuughhh..." From behind them came a groaning. They whirled around, and there in the darkness was Shaw Clay.

"Mr. Clay! We've been looking for you!"

"... I know. You guys have been everywhere. Following me. Leave me the hell alone. I killed one of you. I can kill more."

"No wait, you don't understand, we're not with those guys. We're like you! My friend here can talk to machines, and I can do whatever you guys do when I around you."

"Uunnnghhh... head killing me... If that's all you guys are, then why are you trying to find me?"

Russel looked at Morton. That was a good question. Morton didn't even really know himself. "Uh, well... it just..."

"Lies. LIES!!! You shits need to get out of my goddamn hair before... before I... gggrrraaaaaghhh!"

What happened next was something of a blur. A gravity well, something like a smaller scale black hole, manifested just outside the grate. The waterfall slowly began to curve toward it, and water droplets began to hang in mid-air, little orbs refracting the light of the moon outside the grate, which was itself beginning to bow out and toward the well. Morton stuck his feet to the ground, but he didn't have enough control to hold Russel as well, who suddenly fell forward on his face as the gravity pulled his legs out from under him. Morton thrust out to grab his wrist, and for a second he held on as Russel was lifted off the ground, like a streamer in the wind, only the wind was air being sucked into nothingness. Rats came flying past, pulled into the singularity and rendered into one compressed molecule. Shaw was holding his head in agony. Finally, the grate gave way and was sucked into the gravity well, and there was no barrier between them and oblivion.

As the well started to subside somewhat, Morton relaxed his grip. A mistake. The well suddenly flared into existence once more, and Russel's wrist, slick from the dirty sewer water that rushed past them like horizontal rain, slipped from Morton's grasp and he himself began to fly toward the vortex. The gravity well suddenly dissipated, for good this time, but not before Russel had flown quite clear of the grate and had fallen several stories into the river.

"Noooooo!" Morton ran to the edge to find him. He tried to use Shaw's power, but he was exhausted with the effort of holding himself stuck and trying to keep Russel from being destroyed. There was nothing now. He felt no trace of Russel anywhere.

"You!" He turned back around to face Shaw Clay in anger. But Shaw Clay was already gone, ridden with guilt over one more life he'd taken.




So there you have it. At this point Morton is the only one I gave a mission to, but I'll start handing more out next turn. Russel has been killed, but his body is still intact, rushing down the river. Morton has discovered a weakness in his power: he can tire himself when he uses a power too long. Homoro's agents are trying to find Alice now. For many of us, the powers that have come into our possession have come with a double edge.

Thanks to all who played! I won't have time to update the stats until tonight (it's noon where I am), so why don't we all just take a little break until then? I have podcast to host and record at 4, and hopefully by 6 or 7 I'll be free to work on this.
  • 13

It's Dangerous to Go Alone


"I desperately want Jiggery Pokery now."-- Pikajew

"I do feel that if she happens to favour attractive, successful, intelligent men I will be at a disadvantage."--Anglerphobe

"I have a beautiful sphincter and Mexico is gonna pay for it."--Kate
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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby JamesT » Sun Nov 24, 2013 7:55 pm

Jim watched the lights go dim with anticipation. In addition to the customary fee, Mr. Copperfield had given him tickets to his new show. According to him it would be something spectacular that would make his career.

When the show began Jim clapped as the magician conjured a tiny hat from the rabbit. It was even better than he had imagined. If this was just the opening trick, the full act would be something well worth the time he spent on the poster. The showman brought out a gun, and gave it to his assistant. She fired it, first at a glass, then at the performer.

The magician collapsed.

"NO!" Jim shouted. "MY FUTURE COMMISSION MONEY-"

The people around him looked at him in disgust and he quickly changed gears

"-IS MEANINGLESS NEXT TO THE LOSS OF THIS MAN'S LIFE! Yeah! That's um... what I meant."

He sat back down, shamefaced, but joined in the tremendous applause that came when Mr. Copperfield stood up and showed the audience the bullet.

At the end of the show, Jim felt electric. Something about the magician's tricks seemed impossible even beyond the slight of hand he knew. He felt better, even without his medication, and slowly walked along the river bank with a smile on his face.

Sorry, were we not supposed to post after Notch? I had this thing planned and was working on several things at once. Maybe just don't count it in the stats or something?
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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby Matthew Notch » Mon Nov 25, 2013 2:01 am

No worries man, random posts when it's not your phase are completely acceptable. After all, the only true point of this side of the game is to write a great story, and so far I'm in shock. You guys are so awesome.

Like I said, missions will be assigned a little more studiously next time, but great job moving everything forward so far. Here are the bonus points Dreamers won for Warriors:

Ozzy (5)
T.A.B.L.O. (2)
Kate the Klutzy (2)
Vladmir the Bastard (2)
Ealdgyð (0)
Milo Minderbinder (3)
Carrot the Bold (3)
Urthbert the Unclean (1)
Nudge the Not-So-Good-At-Being-A-Warrior (2)
Dana the Frazzled (3)
Ambi the Indecisive (2)
Joni (2)
Loxley (3)

Kate and Moo are the two Warriors that only received points from favor, and poor Eric received zero. Let's see what they have planned for this turn.
  • 8

It's Dangerous to Go Alone


"I desperately want Jiggery Pokery now."-- Pikajew

"I do feel that if she happens to favour attractive, successful, intelligent men I will be at a disadvantage."--Anglerphobe

"I have a beautiful sphincter and Mexico is gonna pay for it."--Kate
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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby Matthew Notch » Fri Nov 29, 2013 1:30 am

Morton, soaked, freezing, and angry, crawled back out of the sewers, cursing himself over and over for dragging an innocent man along with him. Why did he always feel the need to do something big? Why couldn't he just set his ambitions aside? Why couldn't he even properly articulate his ambitions in the first place? And now a man was dead, because he couldn't even answer that question. The one Shaw asked.

Shaw.

Morton fished his own cellphone (cellphones are practically NPCs in this game, it would seem) out of his pocket and dialed 911.

"Yes, I... I don't know who to talk to, but I saw a body in the river not far from Jacobs Street. Yes, it might have washed out of the sewer. I don't know, it was too far away, but it was definitely a body. Yes. Yes, just wanted you to know. Okay. Okay right." Morton hung up the phone. Now that was done. He made one more call to someone he thought might be able to help. Afterward he hung up the phone, then threw it away because he decided if he could find Clay that way, the agents could find him that way. There was no more question, no more lazy daydreams. It was time to get Clay and make him pay for what he did.

Morton turned around and was promptly whisked away by Homoro's men.




Alejandro was at the bookstore, looking for a graphic novel to pass the time on his next shift. Goodness knows he wasn't going to pass the time having a nice chat with his coworkers. While he sat idly, passing the time, his cellphone vibrated in his coat pocket.

"Hello?"

"Guerrero, we need you early tonight. Got a call for a body in the river. You're our guy on this one."

"You guys don't have anyone else to cover a loose body?"

"Let me check. Nope." It was obvious he had not checked. This was a throwaway assignment.

"Okay, whatever, I'll be in about ten minutes from now."

About that time, Sonia got a call from behind the counter. It was Morton. He spoke in hushed tones, angrily.

"Morton, what's gotten into you?"

"Russel died, Sonia. He got pulled out to the river by Jacobs Street."

"Oh God Morton, what the hell happened?"

"I can't give you all the particulars. It was an accident, but listen, I need you to head that way and see if you can find him. I called 911 already, so maybe they'll send someone and you can just sneak by the ambulance and do it."

"Morton, the river is huge, it's flooded, and anyway you still haven't told me jack all about this—"

"I need you to trust me Sonia. I'm going to make this right if it kills me." Click.

"Excuse me?" Alejandro was at the counter.

"I'm sorry about that sir."

"It's okay, I'm just in kind of a hurry. Apparently a body was found in the river—"

"Near Jacobs Street?"

"How... How did you know that?"

Sonia looked over at her manager, who was already frowning because she used her phone at work. The bookstore would have to wait a while. "Listen, this is going to sound nuts, but I can raise the dead."

"You... what?"

"I'm coming with you."




Get at it, yos.
  • 11

It's Dangerous to Go Alone


"I desperately want Jiggery Pokery now."-- Pikajew

"I do feel that if she happens to favour attractive, successful, intelligent men I will be at a disadvantage."--Anglerphobe

"I have a beautiful sphincter and Mexico is gonna pay for it."--Kate
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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby 52xMax » Fri Nov 29, 2013 4:56 am

The girl that welcomed Alejandro behind the counter was now beside him, asking again if she could be of any assistance. She was still looking at him awkwardly, but it had been a while since he entered the store and Alejandro was a little more relaxed now.

"Hi. I'm looking for a different take on extraordinary abilities. All this superhero stuff seems pretty generic. Perhaps you could recommend me something that deals with this topic in another way. Like, how would normal people react if they suddenly found themselves with supernatural powers"

"S... Supernatural?" the girl said, nervously. Perhaps she still thought he was some kind of pervert because of their earlier interaction. "We have an occultism section over the Religion and Spiritual aisle"

"No, that's not what I'm looking for. I mean, no one's talking about raising up the dead or anything..."

"What did you say?" Sonia looked at him with piercing eyes, gripping tightly a book she was holding against her chest. "The Necronomicon? wow, not exactly light reading" a moment of awkward silence followed. Alejandro hated awkward silences, especially now that he was welcomed by them every time he walked into the station. He tried to lighten up the mood "wait, I was just trying to make a stupid joke, I didn't realize you were into that sort of thing... which is totally cool... I mean, wiccans are in again and ...", but he was interrupted when the girl pushed him against one of the shelves, holding a letter opener against his throat.

"Shut up and listen! I don't know who you people are, or why you have been watching us, but if you know anything at all about my powers, then let me tell you I'm not afraid, and I won't hesitate to use them to defend myself."

Alejandro was intrigued by this sudden turn of events.

"What kind of powers?"

"As if you didn't know already!, you probably followed me to the hospital earlier"

Alejandro was puzzled, but he wanted to know more, so he dared to talk again.
"They've been following me too, you know?"

Sonia pushed the sharp edge of the letter opener closer to Alejandro's skin, but he could tell from all his years of training that she was way more scared than he was.

"I told you to shut up, unless you want to lose the ability to speak... and to breathe... because this will kill you, you know?" After a brief pause, she asked. "What kind of powers do you have?"

"It's easier if I demonstrate" he said, while touching a nerve in Sonia's arm that made her loose the grip on the letter opener, then grabbing her other arm he turned Sonia against the shelf, all in less than a second.

"Here, these things are dangerous" he said, letting loose and handing back the letter opener.

"Show off" Sonia said, still trying to keep her cool. "So, you could've done that from the beginning? why didn't you?"

"I don't know. Well, that stuff about superpowers caught my attention. I thought I was the only one, or that I was going crazy. Also, I wanted to make sure no one else was watching... what happened to the other girl?", "Cigarette break, probably", "but if instead of my super heightened whatever I was a spoon bender or something, you could've killed me, you know?"

"Well, I could've brought you back too."

"You what?"

Then his coat pocket started buzzing. "Sorry, work. This might be an emergency so I gotta take it, but hang on, ok? we need to talk about this"

"Sure", Sonia said, then she got a phone call too.

"Listen, I gotta go. I need to find a body in the river"

"Near Jacobs Street? I'm coming with you"




After catching up on the way, Alejandro had a lot to think about. There were more like him out there. A technopath, a pyrokinetic, Sonia had healed a guy who died from cancer. This was a lot to digest. For now the priority was finding the body, retrieving it would be the easy part. If Sonia was telling the truth, he had found himself some powerful allies, but he knew that also meant his suspicions were true, and there were some powerful enemies out there as well.

52xMax rolled 1d6:
6





"There, do you see him?" Sonia yelled, but Alejandro was already in the water, and in a few strokes he had reached the body. It took some work to drag him to the shore, especially since this was the first time that he swam in his life, but after he got used to the movements, it was piece of cake.

He pulled him up and said "Hey, I know this guy! we've done a few birthday parties... I mean, we've worked together in the past. I'll explain later."

"Can you really bring him back?"
  • 12

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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby FaceTheCitizen » Fri Nov 29, 2013 5:20 am

...
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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby Psychosassic » Fri Nov 29, 2013 7:41 am

Alice was in the middle of the biography section when they came for her.

"They" were two well-dressed men, who walked up from either side of the aisle, effectively blocking off any chance of escape.

"Can I help you?" Alice asked, clutching a book on Abraham Lincoln to her chest defensively.

"Ms MacNamara, correct?" the man on her right said genially, waiting for her hesitant nod before continuing. "We represent a...certain party, one who would be very interested in...doing business with you."

"Oh?" said Alice, wondering A. where this was going, and B. how quickly she could knock over a bookshelf in order to escape.

"You may have noticed certain things happening lately," he continued, while his companion stood silently, watching her. "Strange things."

Alice said nothing, but he must have taken her silence for agreement.

"I take you for a woman who values knowledge," he said, casting his eyes around the walls of books. "I'm sure you have many questions. And with your cooperation, we'd like to provide you with some answers."

Alice raised an eyebrow. "Cooperation?"

"We would like to take you to meet our employer," he said. "As soon as possible. Right now, really." He smiled, a thin smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "There's a car waiting outside. If you'd agree to come with us, we assure you that you'll soon have all the answers and support you need."

"Support?"

"Ah," he said, giving a look of regret that looked disturbingly practiced, "abilities like yours tend to come with...unfortunate side effects. We have the facilities to ensure that you are given the best possible care, should the need arise."

Alice could feel her chest tightening, and she tried not to panic as her eyes darted back and forth between the two men, both of whom were considerably larger than she was. Maybe she'd read one too many sci-fi thrillers, but her ever instinct was currently screaming at her to get out.

She saw only one possibility, and she hoped to god it worked.

Psychosassic rolled 1d6:
4


Alice felt the portal pop open underneath her, nearly crying in relief that it had worked. The men made a grab at her as she fell through to the grass below, one grabbing her arm. She heard a loud ripping sound and felt her sleeve pull away from her shirt. Her favorite shirt, for the record.

The cart of books tipped downward as well, and she had to twist away quickly to avoid being pummeled by a variety of biographies.

Before the men could follow her, she willed the portal to close, and, to her immense relief, it did so.

She stood, dusted herself off, and looked around, wondering where in the world she was.
  • 11

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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby ButtChocolate » Fri Nov 29, 2013 3:36 pm

Just 6 months ago things were fine. I was fine. Lucy and I were fine. And then there was that day at the warehouse...

Those containers of chemicals got lodged in the shelf sideways on their pallet, and I had to climb up there and manually shift it. I should have gotten help- I should have waited- but I was so worried about my quota- getting all of my load put away. Just waiting 5 minutes for someone to do an assist can cost you at least three pallets- that's good money, dammit. But I was stupid and I should have waited. The shelf support gave way, and the pallet and I toppled down. There I was, laid out on the floor in a pile of broken containers and chemicals, with a severe back-sprain. I'm lucky the surveillance camera footage went missing that day- or human resources would have denied my disability claim. Lot of good it's doing me now- I'm homeless, running through the sewers half clothed, and all types of assholes are trying to find me now.

What's that rumbling sound? Huh. The subway must be nearby. Maybe there's some sort of access hatch that I can use to get there from here. I'll just follow the sound until it gets louder. Maybe I can get out of the city that way- seems like this place is crawling with suits. The 135 goes to the outskirts- I could hitch a ride to the last stop, and then walk the rest of the way.

Not much of a plan, but it's better than wading through shit-water for the rest of the day, or letting those suits or even those other guys find me.
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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby FaceTheCitizen » Sat Nov 30, 2013 4:49 am

...
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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby Cullenmcpimpin » Sat Nov 30, 2013 4:57 am

"Give me your money!" The man yelled, raising his knife at Tommy. Tommy was walking home from basketball with friends and this moron had tried to mug him. "Put the knife down man you don't want to do this." Tommy responded with a sirous look in his eyes. The thug said nothing as he put his knife on the groundand apologized. Tommy said "Now I am a bit short on cash so give me everything you got". "Um sure" the man said turning over not only the money he had taken earlier but also his knife. "Now get the fuck out of my Face" Tommy's voice sounded like he was joking but his eyes looked the eyes of satan himself. The would-be mugger ran away into the shadows, and Tommy walked home with his new knife, $200 richer.
  • 5

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

Postby malosaires » Sat Nov 30, 2013 8:47 am

The subway came to a stop. and the jolt woke Marissa.

"Shit!" she cried, realizing she had fallen asleep and missed her stop. Realizing that she had said that much louder than she intended to, she buried her face in her hands out of embarrassment. Yet as she sat with her hands over her eyes, wishing that she could turn invisible, she heard something that she could not remember hearing: silence.

Marissa opened her eyes to find the train devoid of life. Even the roaches were gone. The lights seemed to have changed as well: artificial florescence was still there, but it somehow felt even more drained of color and substance. There was an oppressive stillness in the air, as though a great blanket had been draped over time itself to keep it from moving.

Marissa looked out the window and her mouth fell open. The subway station looked life an ancient ruin. All signage had been worn away. The concrete was weathered where it was not crumbling. The place seemed to remain standing only through the force of inertia.

The subway doors creaked open. Marissa stepped out of the train onto the platform. Her footsteps echoed throughout the tunnel. She looked around the station, searching for any signs of life. She noticed a lump on a nearby bench covered in a blanket. She crept up to it slowly and touched it. the lump shook her off. Marissa took a deep breath and shook it.

The lump whirled over, shaking off the blanket. It was a man. He was dressed in woolen clothes, with a raggedy red scarf around his neck. He had a bloodshot eye, yellow teeth, and the smell of liquor on his breath.

"What?" he shouted at Marissa. Marissa took a step back hesitantly.

"I--I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm just wondering, where am I?"

The man sighed wearily. "Jesus, this is the freakin Union Station!" he said, gesturing around at the room without really looking at it, making Marissa even more nervous.

"It's just--how did I get here?"

"Oh Christ, lady, I saw you get off the freakin tra--" the man paused as he became aware of his surroundings. "Hey, what the hell is this place?" He turned to Marissa. "What the hell did you do?" he said accusingly, as Marissa backed away. "What's going on he--" The man stopped, a look of abject fear in his eyes as he looked behind Marissa. Marissa turned to see the creature of her dreams, staring at them with its featureless heads. The sucking filled the station.

Marissa bolted away from the creature, colliding with the man as she tried to flee. She grabbed what she could of her things as she scrambled to her feet before resuming her flight. She ran into the train and tried to force the doors closed, hoping to put some barrier between herself and the creature. As she struggled with the doors, she saw the man trying to run from the creature, stumbling as he attempted to outrun fate. She looked in his eyes as he ran, and saw the unrestrained desire for life burn within him. And she saw that burning will to live snuffed out, as the unseen force of the creature overtook him, and he fell to the ground. The creature was upon the fallen man before his head hit the floor. It's skin opened up, revealing its mouths.

Marissa abandoned the door and ran. She couldn't bear to see it feed, and thought that she could get away while it did. She ran along the platform until she found the stairwell leading up to the streets. She climbed the stairs two at a time and ascended into the streets of the dead city, blinking under the milky light of a grey sky. She ran past the lifeless an collapsed buildings, under the eyes of the sky that looked upon her with the indifference of the blind.

After her legs were exhausted, Marissa stopped to catch her breath, the sucking having finally left her ears. Yet as she stood panting in the empty street, out of the corner of the eye she saw the creature running after her. Panicked, Marissa ran inside the nearest building.

The building's lobby looked like a ruin of a bygone age, its walls groaning under the weight of accumulated years. Yet though worn like a long forgotten tomb, what remained of its decorations appeared to be a product of the modern era.

Marissa was not able to ponder these things deeply, as she was flitting around, looking for some avenue of escape. Thinking quickly, and therefore not thoroughly, she ran to the stairwell, hoping that she could elude the creature by reaching toward the empty sky. She ascended these fallen stairs once more, panting as she went.

Up, up, she thought, the blood boiling in her head, you've got to get away from it, you've got to get away! She climbed hard and fast, kicking off her shoes as she went, her will to survive driving her onward. And suddenly, a blockade. The flight leading to sixth floor had collapsed, leaving her trapped in the stairwell. Through the pounding of the blood in her ears, she could hear it climbing the stairs.

Having no other means of escape, Marissa bolted into the fifth floor hallway. She sprinted down the hall to the door on the far side and tried the knob. Locked. She could hear it climbing. Marissa fell against the door, pleading for it to let her in. The door would not answer. Marissa looked behind her and saw the creature standing in the stairwell entrance, staring at her.

Gathering herself, Marissa took a step back from the door, breathing deeply, and ran at it, slamming into it. The door did not budge. Backing up again, Marissa ran at the door once more. Though the door remained standing, Marissa could feel it bending against the force of her will to live. She could hear the creature walking down the hallway. Summoning all of her strength, Marissa ran at the door once more, breaking through and stumbling into the apartment within.

Marissa slammed the door behind her and looked around the apartment. Everything inside looked to have been untouched by human hands for several centuries. The was no wall paper or carpeting, only grey walls and rotting wood floors decorated by furniture caked in dust. Marissa grabbed the nearest objects and slammed it against the door. She could no longer lock the door, but she could still force it closed. Everything Marissa could lift became part of the barricade, conscripted into her private war.

With the last lamp thrown at her barricade, Marissa fell against the wall opposite the door, slid to the floor, and cried. She cried for the old man, for the dead world, and for herself, trapped along with death at her door. Outside, she could hear the creature scratching at the door, but the sucking was gone. Only the sound of her sobs remained.




Marissa awoke to hear a loud banging against her door. She stood up, looking around for something to use as a weapon. She grabbed a table leg that had broken off when she formed the barricade and raised it like a baseball bat. If she was going to die, she was going to die fighting.

The banging grew louder as the door pushed against the barricade, unable to push it aside. Suddenly, the exposed top of the door was smashed in, and from the newly formed hole emerged a battering ram. A face came to the hole and looked inside. It was a human face.

"Oh Jesus," said the face, "they built a damn barricade." The face moved away from the hole and the banging resumed, as the battering ram forced the barricade aside. Once an opening was formed, two police officers entered the apartment, looking around suspiciously. Marissa raised up her weapon, ready for whatever was to come. But the officers never seemed to notice her, walking right past her without a glance to check the other rooms in the apartment. After sweeping the apartment, the officers returned to the hallway.

"It's empty, Mrs. Wallace." Marissa slowly lowered the table leg.

"But how is this possible," came a shrill, quavering voice. "You said it was barricaded from the inside."

"It was, ma'am, but no one's in there. You can see for yourself."

An elderly woman entered the apartment, staring at the barricade in shock before running through the rooms just as the officers had, unaware of Marissa standing in the center of the living room.

"I don't understand," Mrs. Wallace said to the officers.

"To be honest, we don't either. We can watch the place for a few days if it makes you feel safer, but beyond that, there's little we can do."

"Thank you. That's all, I suppose. " The officers walked out, giving Mrs. Wallace a pitied look as they left. Mrs. Wallace stared for a moment more at the former barricade before bending down to pick up a lamp, carrying it back to its proper place.

Marissa put down the table leg and looked around the apartment in amazement. Things looked so different. There was a flowery wall paper on the walls and carpeting on the floor. The furniture looked to have grown two centuries younger. Marissa looked out the nearest window and saw the sun shining through a blue sky.

It couldn't have been a dream, thought Marissa. How could she have gotten here if it was a dream? But it had to have been a dream. It was always a dream. Marissa looked at the room again, trying to find some way to explain how she could have gotten here if it were a dream, and caught a glimpse of something in her bag. It was the raggedy old scarf that the homeless man had worn in the subway. She pulled it out and looked at it, stunned.

It wasn't a dream, she thought. It couldn't have been a dream. Marissa stared at the scarf, thinking back to the night before. She stumbled backward, dropping the scarf, as the full magnitude of the night hit her.

It wasn't a dream. It was never a dream. Oh dear god.
  • 10

I've got a tumblr where I write about stuff, some of which is also on this site. I've also got a few videos you might wanna check out.
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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby julyjack73 » Sat Nov 30, 2013 4:17 pm

Russel begins drying himself off.

"From a first-hand experience, I can tell you that being dead kinda sucks."
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Julyjack, your comment was sunshine from a unicorn's butthole. - Popeshaggy
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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby FaceTheCitizen » Sat Nov 30, 2013 7:48 pm

...
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Re: One Last Hurrah

Postby Sheepman » Mon Dec 02, 2013 4:20 pm

Sorry for the late post... Been busy

Leonard wandered the city.

At first, he had tried to write some more. But, although his production was good and quality, he found that his heart just wasn't in it. Even Apollo could feel his depression, jumping up on his lap and rubbing up against him, the way cats do. He idly stroked Apollo's back for a while, and clicked over to YouTube videos, but he found that, despite having a complete lack of energy when it came to writing, he was also filled with a restlessness that would not be satisfied by idle internet surfing.

So he took a walk, pausing briefly at his closet to put on a long trenchcoat and wide brimmed hat he hadn't worn since his early college days, but had held on to because of its sentimental value. He didn't feel like dealing with his swooning fans right now, and he didn't figure he was in any sort of mood to be the person they would want him to be anyhow.

As he wandered the streets, Leonard thought about the past. He thought about the ever flowing nature of time, and how every step along the way had led him inexorably to where he was, each event building on the last.

Up until the last few days, that is. In the last few days, the calm but insistent push of the river had seemed to take a right angle turn, and flowed roughly through some rapids and over a waterfall.

It was a still night, and the streets were empty. But as Leonard pondered that, he thought he saw a man in a black suit out of the corner of his eye. He frowned, and paused, but when he turned to look there was no one there.

He turned back around and continued on his way. He found to his surprise that, in his idle thought, he'd instinctually made his way to the park. He was hit by a wave of sadness. He sometimes came here at night, when he was restless, to help with the night shift, or just to spot check the bathrooms. Not today though. He briefly wished he'd put a rag and a bottle of Windex or Tilex or something into his coat pocket, so he could just anonymously and quietly tidy up the place. At that thought, though, he started to laugh. What a mad idea. An anonymous janitor. The caped crusader of bathroom cleanup.

But the laughter turned to tears, and before he knew it, he was leaning against the bathroom's outer wall and sobbing. Normally one would avoid touching any wall, inner or outer, of a park bathroom, but Leonard knew this wall, and had cleaned it himself many a time. He would eat off of this wall, if there weren't several other logistical issues with that. But it wouldn't have mattered anyway, such was his emotional distress.

Then an arm reached around him and placed a rag over his mouth. "Hey," a voice said, "Does this smell like chloroform to you?"

Sheepman rolled 1d6:
6

Leonard instinctually held his breath and went slowly limp. The man gently laid him on the ground, turned around and picked up a phone. "Yes sir, Mr. Homoro. I've got the fate manipulator. He's unconscious, bring in the cleanup crew." He snickered at that, snapping shut his cheap, probably pre-paid, phone. "Because he's a janitor! Hahaha... Ahh."

And then Leonard shot out a kick, hitting the man squarely in the back of the knee and bringing him sharply to the ground.

The man didn't even have a chance to react before Leonard grabbed the rag out of his hand and held it over his face. He delivered a sharp punch to the suited man's gut, forcing the man to gasp for air. Within minutes, he was unconscious. Leonard considered holding the rag over his face for longer, but he didn't know how much time he had before the "cleanup crew" got there. Leonard patted the man down, and produced the cheap phone from before, a wallet, a tazer, and a bottle of the chloroform, all of which he dumped into his coat's pockets to rifle through later.

And then he took off, running hard until he got out of the park.
  • 10

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.

I'm not trapped in here with you. You're trapped in here with me.
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