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Post by Planetbox on Oct 15, 2018 18:37:12 GMT -5
Andre tenses the muscles in his hand, focusing with all of his energy. Darkness approaches the corners of his vision and his head feels like it was swimming in fog, but he still tries as hard as he can to do something. He has to do something... Anthony’s grandchildren are counting on it.
Deciding that it would be easier to do something with the grenade than with the Dark Destroyer himself, Andre concentrates completely on that. If he can turn it into something else which would distract the Dark Destroyer, his work will be done.
Miraculously, it begins to work. The black surface of the grenade changes to brown fur, which quickly begins to grow wildly. As a pattern of black spots spreads across the hairy mass, four feet appear, followed by a head. By this point, the Dark Destroyer has already dropped the grenade in surprise, which falls to the floor with a thud.
Within a few seconds, a full-sized mongoose is standing on the balcony. The Dark Destroyer yelps as the angry mongoose leaps on him, hissing angrily. The suited figure screams and thrashes about, the mongoose scratching his armor madly.
Hisses and cries fill Andre’s ears, along with the stumbles of Anthony and Mrs. Alex as they approach the Dark Destroyer. However, the mental exertion of intervening proves too much for Andre. He slowly slips into the darkness once again.
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This time, Andre isn’t interrupted by visions of the woman, or of anything for that matter. Instead, he slowly awakens with his back against a hard surface. At the very least, it’s more comfortable than where he had slept earlier.
Though his bandaged wound still hurts, Andre feels more well-rested now, and certainly better able to focus on the scene before him. The dining room table has been righted once again, but it’s tablecloth is missing. Perhaps it had gotten stained with blood during the battle. Indeed, most of the room has been cleaned up, so no trace of the earlier conflict remains. Even the broken pieces of the picture frame have been picked up and moved off of the floor, though obviously they couldn’t ever be completely fixed.
Anthony and Mrs. Alex are in the corner of the dining room, directly in front of Andre. Anthony leans against the stairs while Mrs. Alex sits backwards on a chair from the table. They both stare at the Dark Destroyer, who is sitting in a similar position as Andre. However, the Dark Destroyer clearly doesn’t want to be there particularly much, as his left arm is tied to the railing and his right foot is pinned under Mrs. Alex’s. His suit is scratched all over, each individual piece not seeming to fit with the ones around it.
Fortunately, Mary and her children aren’t in Andre’s line-of-sight. He can only assume they’re somewhere safe. Bradley is also gone, possibly giving word to the other townsfolk. Last of all, the mongoose has predictably disappeared as well. However, Andre isn’t particularly worried about its whereabouts.
Suddenly, Mrs. Alex’s loud voice fills the room. “Look, buddy. You’ve got two choices: talk or die. You need me to show you which is the better option?”
“Nah, don’t bother... I’m pretty confident in my decision.” The Dark Destroyer slowly replies. Despite how thoroughly he’s been beaten, his voice doesn’t seem any less enthusiastic. Disturbingly, it almost sounds a little more so.
“Listen here, you hooligan,” Anthony says firmly. “Your boss doesn’t give a damn about your loyalty. If we kill you, he’ll just replace you without a single worry. No honor, no nothing. But if you come clean about this special mission you were assigned, at least you’ll get a chance. I don’t know what the justices in Hope City will give you, but it’ll surely be better than gettin’ tossed in a shallow grave.”
“Yeeeaah...See, I don’t think it’ll play out like that,” The Dark Destroyer calmly replies, “I don’t see you killing me as long as I have the information you want. And frankly, I’d be surprised if you actually sent me to Hope City. I mean, we all remember what happened when you tried to send dear old Simon there, right?”
Anthony clenches his fists, and a dark look crosses his face. “That was then. This is now. Our only goal is to see to it that justice gets delivered to scum like you.”
“Ha! That’s sweet, old man,” The Dark Destroyer says, “But there’s a bit of a problem. Y’see, where I’m from, justice doesn’t exist. Dozens of my best friends die every day, and I can’t find a single person who cares.”
“Your ‘best friends’ murder people for fun,” Anthony snaps coldly.
“Hey now, that’s just a lie,” The Dark Destroyer says, “We’re just having a little fun. That’s all! Why else would the Fallen Ones give us their blessings if they didn’t want us to have fun? None of it really matters in the end. If people die cause of the stunts we pull, well...they probably weren’t important anyway.”
Mrs. Alex shoots a cautious glance Anthony’s way and raises her gun. Meanwhile, Anthony has his hand clenched tightly over the railing. “See, there’s just no reasoning with you animals.”
“Same to you, buster. I swear, we don’t get any respect,” The Dark Destroyer scoffs, “Like honestly, just look at yourself! Look at this town, for example! If Simon had made it to Hope City, sure, maybe this place would be a little happier...but it sure as hell wouldn’ta been as interesting.”
Suddenly, Anthony’s foot whips out, slamming into the Dark Destroyer’s jaw. He swings to the side, the rope connecting him to the railing pulling taut. Anthony jerks toward the cultist, raising a fist for another blow, but finds himself blocked by Mrs. Alex’s gun. The woman gives him a stern glare and says, “Hey! Can’t believe I’m saying this, but don’t do somethin’ you’ll regret.”
Anthony stops and looks from the Dark Destroyer to Mrs. Alex. The momentary rage passes over his face. He finally turns around and steps back to the railing, standing with his back to the Dark Destroyer. His mouth forms a thin line, and his eyes are shut tightly.
Andre puts a hand to his forehead. ...What was all this about? He knew that Simon had been interrogated by people in Thomasville before, but he didn’t know anything about how he got away. Still, it seemed like a deeply personal subject for Anthony. What had happened?
Before Andre can ponder it anymore, he hears the Dark Destroyer call out to him. “Hey, guys, look who’s awake! It’s Andre! You wouldn’t want to get the floorboards dirty with him watching, would you?”
The Dark Destroyer had pulled himself back into a comfortable position and now points a finger directly at Andre. Anthony and Mrs. Alex follow his gaze, seemingly noticing for the first time that Andre had woken up.
“Ah...hello, Andre,” Anthony says, sounding a little surprised and uncomfortable. “In case you, uhh, couldn’t tell...we’ve been trying to get some information out of this guy.”
“Alas, it doesn’t seem to be going very well,” the Dark Destroyer adds with a shrug. “How about you give it a shot, Andre? Now you, you’re a person I can respect!”
Andre winces at the suited figures words. “I’m afraid I can’t return the favor.”
“Ah! You wound me so!” The Dark Destroyer shouts, throwing his free hand into the air. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud. Just ask me something. Anything! Perhaps I’ll even answer.”
Seeing the expectant looks of Anthony and Mrs. Alex, Andre begins to think. This might be the only time he would get to ask the Dark Destroyer a question, yet he’s still apprehensive about whether he wants an answer.
What will Andre do now?
Andre Montellado (7/20) +15 DP -----------------------|------------------------The Dark Destroyer (2/30)
Bullets: 2 / Money: $14 ------------------------------------|
Anthony Wright (15/30) ----------------------------------|
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Post by Dimitri on Oct 16, 2018 13:19:00 GMT -5
Ask about the meaning of those trusty purple scraps-turned bandana-turned cape that have been serving you so well thus far.
Or about exactly what the gift of the Fallen Ones is.
Or cleverly find a way to ask both, perhaps by inquiring if the bandana is related to the people gifted by the Fallen Ones.
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Post by Planetbox on Oct 31, 2018 16:45:35 GMT -5
As much as the Dark Destroyer’s manner disturbs him, Andre knows he needs to get more information about him and the rest of his strange cult. After all, by learning more about them, he can better understand what he’s up against. Though deep down, Andre feels that he also wants a better understanding of why the cult acts the way they do as well, so that perhaps a nonviolent solution can be found.
Andre reaches into his pocket and pulls out the tattered remains of the bandanna, and then he holds it up for the suited cultist to see.
“This bandanna...is it related to the people supposedly ‘gifted’ by the Fallen Ones?”
A flash of surprise crosses Anthony and Mrs. Alex’s face. Andre remembers that he hadn’t actually shown the bandanna to Anthony yet. He’ll have to explain it later.
The Dark Destroyer’s expression is, of course, completely unreadable. Still, his next response makes his emotions clear enough.
“Are you dense? Of course it is. All the cultists who came here a few minutes ago were wearing those same colors.” The Dark Destroyer sighs dramatically and throws his hand about. “Y’know, that was such a crummy question that I’ll let you ask another.”
“Sorry if my question wasn’t up to your standards,” Andre says, taking a deep breath. “How about this? What is the ‘gift’ you keep talking about?”
“You’ve already seen that too, haven’t you?” The Dark Destroyer replies, “The Fallen Ones give us power - abilities beyond anyone’s wildest imagination...or beyond everyone's except ours, at least! They put reality itself at our fingertips, and as if that wasn’t enough, we also gain complete enlightenment!” The Dark Destroyer raises his single unencumbered hand to the sky. “Lifted up, above the pathetic, meaningless rabble of lesser beings like yourselves!”
“Enlightenment don’t seem great to me if it turns ya’ into an absolute nutjob,” Mrs. Alex remarked.
“Yes, that’s the typical viewpoint of boorish people like yourself,” the Dark Destroyer said, waving a hand dismissively. “So I really see little purpose in trying to convince you...but rest assured, we are the true visionaries.”
“And I suppose this ‘special mission’ is another one of your visionary activities?” Anthony asks.
“Well, perhaps... But that’s more to do with the boss’s research abou-- Wait a minute!” The Dark Destroyer turns to Anthony and points at him angrily. “You were trying to trick me into giving myself away! Such trickery! You ought to be ashamed!”
Ignoring him, Mrs. Alex asks, “Well, you just about fell for it. Pretty surprising considering how great you apparently are.”
“Don’t act so high and mighty!” The Dark Destroyer says, “I still have one more trick up my sleeve. Direct orders from the boss himself. If you don’t watch your questions, I might have to trigger it: my failsafe technique.”
Anthony and Mrs. Alex exchange nervous glances. Andre quickly asks, “Failsafe technique? Failsafe to what? Our questions?”
“Hey, you already blew your first question and your bonus question, dude.” The Dark Destroyer shouts, “Like I would have answered that anyway. It would ruin the failsafe if I just went ahead and spoiled it!”
“The boss who gave you all these orders...” Andre continues, “It’s ‘Jolly Johnny,’ isn’t it?”
“Oh, yeah... I mean-- wait, no!” The Dark Destroyer says, “I actually meant, uhh...Bolly Bonny! Yeah, he’s a real twisted dude.”
“Who’s Jolly Johnny?” Andre continues, folding his hands. “What do you know about him? What are his goals?”
“Are you even listening to me? I said you’re out of questions!” The Dark Destroyer shouts furiously, “I swear, I am just one push away from using my failsafe technique!”
“Well, we’ll just have to stop you then,” Anthony says. He points to Mrs. Alex and adds, “C’mon, let’s get him out of that suit.”
“Ah, good thinking. All his weapons are in there...plus, we’ll finally get a look at his ugly mug.” Mrs. Alex adds.
The two stand up and approach the Dark Destroyer, grabbing him by the head. They then wrestle with him, trying to yank the helmet off. The Dark Destroyer trashes around, waving his limbs frantically, shouting, “Get your hands off me! I am the Dark Destroyer! I must protect my secret identity!”
“Don’t...be stupid...” Anthony mumbles, out of breath as he struggles with the cultist, “They’ll take it off...at Hope City anyway...”
The Dark Destroyer kicks wildly, slamming his feet against the floor. “No! You’ll ruin the intrigue! You’re not supposed to find out who I am yet! I’m the mysterious masked villain who hunts you at every turn! You can’t skip through all the suspense like that!”
Andre reaches out his hand, concentrating on the Dark Destroyer. A few seconds later, the cultist cries out in shock as his body goes rigid, frozen completely. With a strained voice, Andre screams, “N-Now!”
Mrs. Alex plants her foot on the Dark Destroyer’s leg while Anthony runs his hand across the surface of his helmet. He finds a set of latches and unfastens them with a steady hand. Then he and Mrs. Alex twist the helmet together, yanking it roughly off his head. As the two hoist the helmet triumphantly, they crane their necks and finally look at the Dark Destroyer’s face.
“...Oh my god...”
“What the hell?!”
Andre’s fist closes tightly over the bandanna in his hand as he stares in shock at the familiar visage before him. A new, shining bandanna colored in purple and gold is wrapped around his head, holding back the charred remains of what was once a head of sweeping black hair. His lightly tanned skin has been horrifically burned on the right side of his face, and the left side is marked by a long scar that travels from his cheek across the bridge of his nose. A manic look fills his twitching eyes as a twisted smirk covers his face. He has the kind of face that no one would want to look at for very long, though more because of the insanity than the disfigurement.
However, no one in the room can look away.
Because it’s clear that the Dark Destroyer’s face was once a dead ringer for Andre Montellado’s.
Silence spreads throughout the room like a cloud of smoke as everyone tries to process what they were seeing. Andre most of all is reeling at the display, for obvious reasons.
Eventually, a smile breaks across the Dark Destroyer’s face as he leans back, peals of laughter bursting through his mouth and flowing through the room.
Once the laughter dies down, the Dark Destroyer looks straight at Andre, his eyes wide and deranged. “Man, Andre...it was really such a surprise... There were lots of people I thought I’d find in this armpit of a village, but certainly not you.”
“...Why?” Andre asked, “Why the hell do you have my face?!”
As the Dark Destroyer smiles, his skin seems to stretch and his features twist unpredictably, as if he’s wearing a mask that’s slightly too small and isn’t quite sure where the eyeholes are.
“You see, the two of us...we’ve got a bit of a special connection,” The Dark Destroyer says, ignoring Andre. “I want you to always remember that when you think about everything you did today... How deeply you wounded me!”
Suddenly, Anthony lashes out, punching the Dark Destroyer in the face. “Quit stepping around the issue! Answer the question now!”
The Dark Destroyer lets out a grunt of pain as his head snaps aside, but he quickly rights himself as if the blow hadn’t even happened. “Ohh, do I have his face? Or does he have my face... You just can’t know for sure, can you?”
Mrs. Alex pins the Dark Destroyer’s leg under her gun. “Give us a straight answer, or we’ll drag one out of you.”
The Dark Destroyer seems unconcerned by the threats, merely laughing, though Andre can’t tell what he finds so amusing. “Man, you guys really ruined everything so thoroughly and absolutely. I don’t know rather I should be depressed or elated. Maybe both?”
Andre pulls out his pistol, two bullets in the chamber, and points it at the cultist. “Answer or I’ll shoot. I swear!”
“Sure, go ahead,” The Dark Destroyer replies, “You shoot me and all the information I have is lost forever. You’re not gonna risk it. You really want to know why I look like this, don’t you?”
The gun in Andre’s hand trembles. Mrs. Alex looks from him to the Dark Destroyer and says, “Look, maybe we can’t kill you, but we can easily make life a living hell for you. You wanna keep acting self-important or just get this over with?”
“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t dally much longer,” A bright smile covers the Dark Destroyer’s face. “But just imagine it, Andre! Every night you’d go to sleep haunted by the memory of my face. You’d wonder endlessly why I looked like that. The one thing you knew you had to yourself, and now you’re not even sure it’s your own. And one day, when all you’ve done finally catches up to you, and you’re forced to stare deep into the abyss, still carrying that dreadful question with you...”
The Dark Destroyer leans over, chuckling quietly. He looks up again through the laughter, a disturbing grin on his face.
“Man, you’d go nuts, Andre...and it’d be so hilarious... It’s a shame I won’t be around to see it!”
The Dark Destroyer jerks to the left quickly, pulling his left arm right out of the suit tied to the railing. Andre sees light reflect off his hand as he brings it up to the side of his head. It looks as if there’s a small device shaped like the barrel of a gun fitted to his finger...and the barrel is pointed straight at his skull.
“NO!” Someone shouts. There’s a sudden flurry of movement.
The Dark Destroyer grins smugly, a manic look in his eyes. He flicks his wrist.
BANG!
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“Lisren, son...You did the best you could, but that guy was completely messed up. There was no reasoning with him...”
“Yeah, I’ll say. We’re lucky he just shot himself and not anyone else. Least he won’t do any more harm as a corpse.”
Andre stares vacantly at the dusty road as Anthony and Mrs. Alex escort him toward the town square, where they plan to put him up at the hospital.
However, Andre isn’t really listening to their assurances. Eventually, he just mumbles, “That ‘corpse’...was me...”
Anthony glances at Mrs. Alex apprehensively and then says, “Whoever the Dark Destroyer was...he wasn’t you, okay? I know you’re a better man than that. We all do.”
“Still...he was right,” Andre says, “I can’t get it out of my head. His face, lying on the floor...in all that b-blood...”
Mrs. Alex sighs, “C’mon, Anthony, let’s just get him to the hospital. I’ve never been in this particular situation, but I do know that when I first saw someone lose their life, rest was the only thing that came close to helping.”
“I’ve been seeing corpses ever since I woke up!” Andre cries.
“That’s the world we live in, pal,” Mrs. Alex says, “It takes a while, but you learn to live with it.”
“...That doesn’t seem like a world worth living in to me...”
The street falls silent for a second. Anthony looks away solemnly, and then he begins to speak.
“Look, if wasn’t for you, those monsters would have hurt so many more people. Hell, they probably would have killed me...maybe even my...my...” Anthony trails off, his voice wavering, and then continues. “The point is, there’s a whole lot of bad things in this world...a lot of hate and suffering. So the least we can do is try to bring in some good to replace it...”
Andre looks down at his feet, breathing heavily as if the struggle to keep walking was difficult enough. But eventually, he forces out a few simple words.
“Yeah, maybe you're right...Thanks...”
“No problem. We all need our friends and family to help us through these times. I’m sure you’ve made plenty of those... Now, let’s head to the hospital.”
The three walk on, crossing the threshold of the town square. People are already milling about the place, having been informed that the bitter conflict was finally over. Most of them are greeting loved ones, finding their way back home, or cleaning up the mess. One pair of residents was carrying a long, heavy burlap sack away from the square. Andre can easily guess what was inside.
As the three continue to the hospital, Andre can feel the eyes on him. Looking up and glancing at the other civilians, he sees that his hunch was right. Most of them are glancing at him as they pass by. They aren’t angry, but they aren’t grateful either. Their expressions are apprehensive and uncertain. In any case, it’s a mood completely remote from the jovial feelings that had filled the feast a short time ago.
Eventually, Andre finds himself being taken up the steps and into the hospital. He weaves through the beds in the lobby, past volunteer doctors who turn to watch him as he passes. He lets his head hang low, hoping to ignore them.
Then he feels something hard slam into his neck from behind. He slips from Mrs. Alex and Anthony’s fingers, falling to the wooden floor below with a slam.
Cries and gasps fill the hospital, but Andre barely has the energy to cry out for himself. He can only hear the clamorous voices around him, with one voice rising above them all, filled with anger and pain.
“I-It’s YOUR fault, isn’t it?! It’s GOTTA be!”
“Wh-What?! Alex, help me out here!”
“...On it.”
Andre hears the sound of a struggle. The man continues to shout desperately. “C-C’mon! EVERYONE knows it! He’s got that WEIRD way of fighting! He’s not like us! It’s probably because of HIM that they showed up!”
“Someone get him out of here!” Florence, the head doctor, cries, “He just got the news!”
“Augh! Stop that!” Anthony shouts, “J-Just calm down and come with me.”
“Calm down?! How can I CALM DOWN?!”
“Please, you’re not thinking clearly!” Florence shouts, “Control yourself, before you make a huge mistake!”
Slowly, Andre tries to lift himself off the ground and turn his head toward the commotion. He saw Anthony, Mrs. Alex, and Florence attempting to escort Brad out of the hospital. His face was red with anger, but his eyes were filled with tears.
Brad jabs a finger at Andre. “I-It’s YOUR fault! Bradley’s DEAD because of you!”
Andre’s perceptions seem to blur, and a harsh ringing fills his ears.
What will you do now?
Andre Montellado (6/20) +15 DP
Bullets: 2 / Money: $14
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Post by OshaliteX2 on Nov 5, 2018 11:57:36 GMT -5
Mutter "ow."
Also is Bradley DEAD?
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Post by Planetbox on Nov 27, 2018 18:53:43 GMT -5
Andre didn’t put much thought into his next course of action. All he did was stare vacantly at Brad and mutter, “O-Ow...”
Brad shook his fist at Andre, trying and failing to get close to him. “Is that ALL you have to say?! Are you not even gonna TRY to STRIKE BACK? Everyone can tell there’s something NOT RIGHT with you!”
“P-Please...” Andre mumbled, “I didn’t...do anything...”
“How am I supposed to BELIEVE that?” Brad shouted, almost pleadingly. “Those cultists showed up just a DAY after you arrived. You can’t tell me that’s a COINCIDENCE!”
Florence was speaking again. “Brad, please. You’re not thinking. Look, let’s get you down to the bunker and let you calm down a little.”
A few of the others in the room swarmed Brad, helping Anthony and Mrs. Alex take him away. As Brad’s feet scraped the floor, he continued, “No! I can’t just SIT AROUND! I’ll go INSANE! Bradley needs JUSTICE!”
“Listen, you’ve been gettin’ justice all day,” Mrs. Alex said firmly. “That freak in the suit shot your friend, and he’s dead now. There’s nothing you can do.”
“Come on!” Brad shouted, struggling with the doctors. “Everyone knows Andre’s SUSPICIOUS. At least let me finish CONFRONTING him. It’s what Bradley would have WANTED!”
“Brad, listen to me,” Florence said, “Do you want to know what Bradley really wanted?”
“Y-You can’t POSSIBLY know what he wanted!”
“I do, because he told me,” Florence continued, “He said that all he wants is for you to keep smiling.”
“Wh-WHAT?” Brad said, his erratic thrashing coming to a quick stop. He stared at Florence, a look of surprise plastered on his face. Her words seemed to have quite the effect on him. The doctors quickly resumed escorting him to the ladder that led down to the bunker. Brad barely even fought back, either because he’d given up or because he hadn’t even noticed. Still, he did cast a remorseful gaze toward where Andre lay on the ground.
With the transfer more safely underway, Anthony stepped back from Brad and approached Florence. His expression was grim, and his tone was set. “Florence...Is all this true?”
“I’m...I’m afraid so, ” Florence sighed, “I really tried...No, we all tried. But there were so many people with horrible injuries...I feel like after so many years I should be used to this. But the way Bradley took it...so peacefully...” Florence shook her head.
“We all understand, Florence,” Anthony said, “No one blames you...You did the best you could, that’s all that matters.”
“All we can do is make sure it never happens again,” Mrs. Alex added.
“Exactly,” Anthony continued, “Once things settle down, we’ll be hostin’ a meeting to plan our retaliation. We’ll prove that Thomasville won’t take this sitting down. But until then, we should focus on healing.”
Before Andre knew it, he was being hoisted onto Anthony’s shoulders. “Now, let’s get you to that hospital room.”
As Andre stumbled up the staircase, he looked out into the hospital lobby. Brad was being escorted down into the cellar. He looked up, locking eyes with Andre.
The words escaped Andre’s mouth as a dry mumble. “I’m sorry...”
Brad disappeared from Andre’s vision.
It wasn’t long before Andre found himself lying in a bed near the end of a hospital room. Anthony told him to focus on resting and recovering. Florence and a few other doctors popped in and out, checking up on Andre and hooking him up to a heart monitor. He didn’t pay much attention to it. All he could think about was Brad and Bradley...The Dark Destroyer...Simon’s death...Who was truly at fault? How did anyone live in a world like this?
Night hadn’t even fallen when Andre fell asleep.
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“He’s COMING!”
Andre’s sleep could only be described as fitful. The heart monitor by Andre’s bed constantly infiltrated his subconscious, providing a haunting backdrop to the visions he witnessed in his slumber.
Andre’s most disturbing memories played out over and over again. Bradley falling from the watchtower, Bobby’s gun releasing an inferno across his body, the Dark Destroyer shooting himself in the head...And all throughout he saw visions of Bradley desperately informing him of some mysterious individual’s approach.
“DUDE, seriously. Get UP!”
Despite the weird dreams, that prospect didn’t interest Andre in the slightest. There were loads of people outside, so Andre didn’t have any reason to be worried.
“I’m SERIOUS! He’s almost there!”
The heart monitor by Andre’s bed seemed to be getting louder. He was struck with an indescribable feeling of dread.
Bradley appeared again, hands falling to his sides in resignation. He took off his helmet and held it over his heart as if in mourning.
“Too late...He’s HERE.”
Suddenly, Andre heard maniacal cackling from all around him. The skin on Bradley’s face melted off, revealing a bright, yellow skull.
That was enough for Andre. He jolted awake, crying out in pain as he shot into a sitting position. To his surprise, an unfamiliar figure was standing at the foot of Andre’s bed. One detail about them stuck out instantly: a purple fabric mask was pulled over their head, with a golden image of a skull embossed on the front.
Andre slowly rubbed his eyes, wondering if the figure was just a hallucination. However, a faint voice soon drifted from beneath the skull mask.
“Nah, you ain’t dreamin’, friend. But the nightmare’s only just beginning.”
The figure lurched toward Andre, approaching much faster than Andre expected. The figure slammed a gloved hand against Andre’s neck, not even giving him the chance to scream as he clamped the other over his jaw. Then the masked man leaned in close, the golden skull on his face just inches from Andre's head.
“I’m just gonna level with you,” The man said, his voice dry and humorless. “It’d be very easy for me to kill you. I didn’t come to get blood on my hands, but I’m always lookin’ for new possibilities...so don’t try anything stupid.”
Andre grabbed at the figure’s hands and tried to pull them away. He didn't even care about the pain anymore. He just thrashed around, desperate to get free.
“Y’wanna know something fun? I’ve got a bit of a rule: never kill someone the same way twice. It’s real dull to just shoot everyone with the same boring gun,” The man continued, ignoring Andre’s efforts. “Unfortunately, that can be pretty limiting, so I’ve been havin’ to get more and more creative. But I’m the kind of guy who gets plenty of bright ideas. Here’s my latest one.”
The man shifted his hand so it was pressing on both Andre’s neck and mouth. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled something out, holding it in front of Andre’s eyes. It was a dark red guitar pick with a scratched label.
“Brilliant, eh?” The figure said, “A good, versatile weapon that’s easy to smuggle about. Life has limitless possibilities, and there are so many things I can do with this guitar pick. For starters, I think I’ll use it to slowly and carefully tear a huge hole in--”
Andre started gasping frantically as the man’s grip suddenly vanished from around his jaw. The figure had simply disappeared without a trace.
Slowly raising his head off his pillow, Andre looked around the room. He saw the figure standing in a far corner of the room, still holding the guitar pick.
“...in this mask,” he mumbled irritably. “I can’t see through this blasted thing...”
The figure started swiping the pick around his head, apparently cutting straight through the wool fibers of the mask. Soon he had separated the part that covered his eyes and nose, leaving the bottom half of the mask behind like a makeshift bandanna. The figure pulled the top of the mask off and tossed it onto a nearby hospital bed.
“There, that’s better...I swear, I’m gonna need to have a long discussion with my costume designer later on...”
“What...?” Andre breathlessly replied, “What the hell is your pro--”
Andre stopped himself, seeing that the figure had disappeared once again. It had happened faster than Andre could blink. One second he was there, the next he was gone. It seemed as if he’d teleported.
Andre looked over to the hospital bed the figure had been standing next to. The eye sockets of the skull cap gleamed at him threateningly. Perhaps that hat would contain some kind of clue?
What will Andre do now?
Andre Montellado (6/20) +15 DP
Bullets: 2 / Money: $14
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Post by OshaliteX2 on Nov 30, 2018 8:48:53 GMT -5
See if there's anything under the hat. Maybe even try it on? If nothing happens for either of those, swivel it around so it's not facing us and try to go back to sleep.
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Post by Planetbox on Mar 19, 2019 16:46:21 GMT -5
Andre decided to take a closer look at the hat, reasoning that it could be useful somehow. Besides, if Andre wasn’t quick enough, the masked figure might return to take it back. Though Andre’s encounter with the figure had left him more confused than fearful, he was still certain the figure was a dangerous man who needed to be stopped.
With all that in mind, Andre didn’t consider his injuries too much as he slowly climbed out of bed. Placing his feet on the floor one at a time, he flicked back the sheets and stood, placing his hand on the wall for support. The floorboards creaked under his weight as he let out a pained sigh, taking a few moments to prepare himself for the trek to the desk.
Andre cried out in shock as he felt something soft and firm wrap around his foot. Looking at the floor, he saw a gloved hand grabbing him from beneath the bed.
Andre screamed as his leg was yanked from under him. His head slammed onto the floor, and he was roughly dragged into the darkness.
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The first thing Andre saw was the scar.
It was carved into the figure’s face from the corner of his eye and across his cheek down to the edge of his mask, which now consisted only of the golden skull’s jawline. It was hard to see much else from where the figure had pressed Andre against the bottom of the bed, the old, rough springs digging harshly into his back.
Andre stared in horror at the figure lying on the floor below him. He could only see his eyes, but that was enough to know that he was relishing the feeling of suffocating the life out of him. While that was already an expression he’d seen before, Andre felt there was something else familiar about the scarred face before him. But at the moment, he was more focused on trying to breathe.
“Hah!” The figure smiled, “You just don’t know what I’m gonna do next, do ya? I can be anywhere, and I can do anything! And it’s all just so easy!”
Andre spoke in a choked voice. “Y-You’re insane!”
The figure let out a laugh - a jovial, voluminous laugh. “No way, my friend. I’m not insane...Not in the slightest. I just want to live my life to the fullest. If you really got to know me...well, you’d know I’m quite a jolly guy!”
Those words struck a chord in Andre’s mind. Andre instantly recalled his discussion with Anthony just a day ago, in which he’d mentioned someone. The leader of the Cult of the Fallen Ones, identifiable by a scar on his face: they called him Jolly Johnny.
Andre fought to force the words out of his mouth. “Y-You...Y-You’re Johnny...”
The figure’s eyes widened in surprise. “My, my. You’re filled with plenty of surprises too, aren’t ya...? Well, you’re exactly right. I’ve taken a bit of a special interest in you, so I thought I’d pop by for a visit. News travels fast in our cult, you see. We’ve heard all about the shenanigans you’ve been up to, and I must say I’m not pleased...”
Despite his conversational tone, Johnny didn’t seem interested in taking any pressure off Andre, though he was at least a little more distracted now. Johnny had made a mistake in only grabbing Andre’s neck; it left his arm free to reach into his pocket and grip the handle of his gun. Mustering all his concentration, Andre brought the weapon out of his pocket and pressed it into Johnny's chest. His finger hovered over the trigger.
“So the point is, I wanted to visit you and get a little idea of what makes you--WHOA!”
Johnny reacted immediately upon seeing the gun. Andre felt the cultist’s foot slam into his stomach. Pain shot through his body as the blow sent him rocketing backwards. He slammed into the hospital bed, sending it rocketing through the air. Andre reached out towards Johnny as a panicked shout escaped his lips, and then he collapsed onto the upturned bed, the cold steel digging into his back as it hit the floor with a clamorous clang.
Still reeling from the outrageously strong attack, Andre took in rapid breaths, trying not to hyperventilate as he took in the cool air once again. Johnny let out a disappointed sigh as he struggled to his feet.
“Boy, that sure made a racket,” he mumbled, “Such a shame, as I’m sure the folks downstairs will be coming to take a gander at what caused it. So...looks like our little get-together’s been cut short, Andre.”
Indeed, Andre could already hear a cluster of faint footsteps approaching from the floor below. But these failed to mask those of Johnny as he stepped toward where Andre lay.
Andre reached for his gun but found it not within reach. It must have fallen from his hands when Johnny had kicked him.
“Oh, come on, man...why are you so high-strung? I wasn’t gonna kill ya’,” Johnny stepped into Andre’s vision. Basked in the light from the window, Andre could see his scar in gruesome detail. But, to his surprise, his hair appeared surprisingly clean and well-groomed. The bottom half of the skull mask shifted as Johnny smiled.
“I figure the best way to get to know someone is to see how they react on the verge of death,” Johnny explained, “And you proved you’d use a little clever thinking to claw your way out of any struggle. Sure, I could finish you off, if I wanted. But I think it’ll be a little more fun to keep you around for a while...”
The noises outside were louder now. Andre heard Anthony shouting to open the door, accompanied by the noise of someone cocking a gun.
“Though rest assured, if you get in the way of me or my cult, I won’t be so charitable...But until then, fare well...and be happy.”
The door swung open, and Anthony rushed in surrounded by a few doctors. But Johnny was gone. He had disappeared a moment before they entered. Anthony and the others were left to look frantically around the room until they saw Andre lying in a heap.
“Andre!” Anthony cried, racing over to examine his wounds. “What happened?”
Andre stared back at the old man and let out a weary breath. “I...I’m not entirely sure...”
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Andre stayed in the hospital room for a few more days, never telling anyone of his experience with Jolly Johnny. After all, it seemed scarcely believable, and Andre often found himself questioning rather it was as true as it seemed or if it was simply a vision conjured by his exhausted body.
The days passed by listlessly, marked only by occasional visits from Anthony and the like. Andre was left with little else but his own thoughts. Florence seemed run dry with all of the wounded needing attention, but she always made time to check on Andre. Fortunately, his health seemed to be steadily improving each day.
Soon enough, Anthony arrived just on the verge of one of these visits. Andre turned to the door as he entered, being greeted with a dull squeaking sound in addition to Anthony’s footfalls. The old man appeared to be pushing a metal contraption into the room; once it was within sight, Andre recognized it as a ramshackle, dangerous-looking wheelchair.
“Good afternoon, Andre,” Anthony said cheerfully. “How’re you holdin’ up?”
Andre glanced at the grimy window, somewhat surprised that it was already the afternoon. He turned back to Anthony and shrugged. “Well...I’ve been better.”
He gestured at the wheelchair, which Anthony was loudly struggling to maneuver through the many hospital beds. “So, uh...why’d you bring that?”
“Well, as it turns out,” Anthony explained, “Florence has deemed you well enough to leave the hospital room, but not quite well enough to walk. Though she says usin’ a wheelchair oughta be fine, so I figured the two of us would take a walk around town seein’ as you’ve been holed up in here so long.”
Anthony, apparently tired of wrestling with the wheelchair, hoisted it over his head, carried it over to Andre’s bed, and then slammed it onto the floor. He looked down at it, seeming quite proud of his handiwork, but leaving Andre quite certain he knew the reason for the chair’s sorry state.
Andre smiled. “Well, I’d certainly enjoy a change of scenery...but how am I supposed to get down the stairs?...Or out of this room, for that matter?”
“Oh, hmm...good point,” Anthony looked out at the tangle of hospital beds, perhaps recognizing for the first time the fatal flaw in his plan. But before long, he turned back to Andre and confidently replied, “Well, I guess we’ll just have to persevere a little!”
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With a rough crash, Andre landed at the foot of the hospital entrance, dust clouds billowing around the base of his wheelchair. Anthony followed him down the entryway steps, rubbing dust off of his hands.
“Y’know...” Andre said, “Considering this place’s function, it could really use a little less stairs.”
“I’ll get your concerns to the mayor,” Anthony said, “Now, where would you like to go?”
Andre stared across the square. The townsfolk were already milling about, attempting to return to their daily routines. Still, Andre could sense the underlying tension, as if they were all castaways finding a new life on an alien shore.
This was the place Andre had fought to protect. Perhaps it was time to take another look around in the little time he had...
Locations:
Bar, Restaurant, General Store, Anthony’s Abode
Andre Montellado (10/20) +15 DP
Bullets: 2 / Money: $14
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Post by Asphoxia on Mar 22, 2019 20:10:01 GMT -5
People gossip at bars right? Try looking around there first.
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Post by OshaliteX2 on Mar 23, 2019 22:07:51 GMT -5
Seconding that, but also because I think I recall something about quests from there.
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Post by Dimitri on Apr 15, 2019 17:29:11 GMT -5
Check out the restaurant to be contrarian, but also to see if they've got some primo pasta for purchase. You could really go for some fettuccine.
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Post by Planetbox on Apr 18, 2019 19:46:33 GMT -5
After thinking to himself for a few moments, Andre nodded and said, “I’d like to go visit the bar.”
“Really?” Anthony raised his eyebrow. “You know you’re not exactly in the condition to go drinkin’, right?”
“Of course I do!” Andre replied, “I just thought it would be a good place to catch up on how the town’s faring...and you know, maybe pick up some stuff for later.”
Anthony chuckled. “Well, I suppose I can’t argue with that! Alright, let’s go take a look.”
Andre leaned back in the chair and tried to relax as Anthony gently pushed him across the square towards the bar. He closed his eyes and let out a wavering breath, trying to ignore the gazes of the other folks ambling about.
Upon reaching the building Andre held out an arm as the older man wheeled him through the swinging wooden doors, easily admitting them inside.
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Andre braced himself as he entered the building, remembering his previous chaotic trip there. But to his surprise, the place was fairly calm now. There were still remnants of previous brawls scattered across the floor, but the only noises that filled the bar were those of quiet conversation. However, the atmosphere was very strained. Everyone was well aware that something had changed, but they weren't willing to admit it.
“What...happened here?” Andre asked.
“It’s certainly a lot quieter now,” Anthony said, sounding a little relieved. “I guess people decided they had other things to be angry about.”
Anthony clenched the handles of the wheelchair a little more tightly as the two continued into the bar. Hearing the gentle squeak of his wheelchair, the small number of patrons inside turned toward Andre and kept looking upon recognizing the inhabitant. A few faces seemed grateful, but most were uncertain. No one spoke a word to Andre, but a fellow eating in the corner of the room abruptly stood up and walked swiftly out.
Looking at the others in the bar, it dawned on Andre that he vaguely recognized most of them now; not as anyone specific from his memories, but simply as people from the town. He had seen their faces in various buildings, helping out in the hospital on the day of the invasion, or even lying injured on the floor. Perhaps Andre could finally count himself as one among their number.
Shadi was standing behind the counter, leaning over it with both hands firmly planted on the hardwood surface. He looked up with a puzzled expression as Andre approached.
“...The hell’s that noise?” He asked, “Is someone bringin’ a wheelchair in here?”
“Yeah, with one passenger,” Andre replied. “What are you doing manning the bar, Shadi?”
“Ah, Andre! You’re back in action, huh?” Shadi said, turning to Andre. “Well, Winifred’s still takin’ time off to work at the hospital, so you’re stuck with me here for now.” He turned toward the wall behind him and started shifting bottles around. “Feel free to buy somethin’. I could certainly use the cash.”
“Wait...Andre?” A young man sitting two stools down, deep in a bottle of beer, turned toward the others. “You’re that newcomer who got injured in the fight against those cultists, aren’t you?”
Anthony smiled. “Yep! And he happened to save a bunch of our lives in the process!”
“That’s awesome!” the man continued, stopping to take a swig of his beverage. “I’ve been hearing a lot about you lately, man. You really took the town by storm, y’know?”
Andre became uncomfortably aware of the gazes of everyone in the establishment locked on him. “Oh, uhh...don’t mention it.”
“I think it’s about time we paid you back. In fact, I’m buying you anything you want from the bar.” The man gestured toward the rest of the bar. “Who’s willing to chip in?”
The other patrons looked about expectantly, but none seemed keen on taking up the offer. Most of them only returned vacant stares.
Eventually, a fairly well dressed man at one of the nearby tables raised his hand. “Sure. I’m in.”
Slowly, more people uttered in affirmation, raising their hands as well. Anthony himself even joined in, but a few folks remained stoic. Shadi continued to stand with his arms crossed, for obvious reasons. A couple seated at a table in the back ignored the commotion, while an old woman sitting near the middle continued knitting as if she wasn’t even listening.
“Look, it’s fine, guys,” Andre said, “You really don’t have to do all that for me.”
“No, we insist,” the man of questionable blood alcohol content continued, “Just pick anything you want, and we’ll foot the bill. That’ll be fine...right, Shadi?”
The bar owner shrugged. “I don’t really care. Long as the money makes it into my hands.”
“Then go on ahead, Andre,” Anthony said cheerfully. “Just pick whatever you want.”
Andre sighed, seeing that they wouldn’t accept any disagreement. He looked over the menu once again.
Shadi’s Bar:
{Remember, one cannot consume alcoholic items within a single five-post period.}
Salty Bar Peanuts: $1 Each. [These packets of peanuts are sold in a bucket on the counter. Their taste leaves much to be desired. Heals 1 HP when eaten.]
Ancient Moonshine: $5. [This bottle, and the liquid inside, originates from about a century ago. When consumed you immediately take five damage, but become impervious to damage for two turns.]
Bottle of Red/Bottle of White: $6. [Comes in a set, and must be shared with a friend. Restores 20 HP to both party members, but all healing items they use for the next five turns will have no effect. The taste sticks around for a while, after all.]
Whiskey in the Jar-Oh: $5. [This brew briefly boosts your strength and speed for five turns, but your metaphorical charisma takes a huge blow. Everyone will hate you and your shenanigans until you’re sober again. On the bright side, you can keep the bottle!]
El Serpiente Negro: $30. [This special brew will kill you less than five seconds after consumption. Drink responsibly.]
Old Spaghetti: $0.25. [Some spaghetti a dude got take-away from the restaurant and then left half-eaten at the bar. Shadi is hoping to get rid of it.]
Andre Montellado (10/20) +15 DP
Bullets: 2 / Money: $14
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Post by OshaliteX2 on May 8, 2019 9:59:11 GMT -5
Take some of that whiskey. Strength and speed might've been handy before. Might not be quite so handy NOW, but better safe than sorry.
Also chip in a quarter and buy that spaghetti just to be nice to Shadi, especially if there are hidden affinity requirements for seeeeecreeeeeeeets~
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Post by Planetbox on Jul 3, 2019 16:07:48 GMT -5
“Hmm...I think I’ll take some of that whiskey,” Andre said.
“Ah, excellent choice,” the man in the suit said, “That’s five dollars, right? Should be easy enough to foot the bill.”
“Good, I’ve been meaning to throw out some more of these old jars I have lying around,” Shadi mumbled as he ducked below the counter and shuffled loudly through the various pots and bottles within. “Anything else?” his disinterested voice called back from the din.
“Uhh, maybe that old spaghetti too.”
“Thank God,” Shadi said, standing up with a flask clutched in his hand. “That thing was really stinkin’ up the place...Means a lot more than you’d expect, you doing that for me.” Shadi smiled with what looked like genuine relief and then turned to the siphon in the wall behind him, pouring golden brown whiskey into the flask.
Within a few minutes, Shadi has passed along the whiskey, which Andre quickly stored in his jacket pocket, along with the old spaghetti, which threatened to spill out of the broken take-away container it was stuffed into. With the transaction over with, Anthony pushed Andre back toward the exit, having lost nothing more than a quarter.
As they approached the swinging doors, Andre heard a faint, scratchy voice behind him. “Y’know, y’all should really be more careful who you give handouts too...”
Anthony stopped and looked over his shoulder. There was no doubt that the one who spoke had been the old woman sitting quietly near the center of the room, but she continued to knit as if she hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation around her.
The suited man raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
The old woman smiled and shook her head. “I’m just saying we don’t know much about him, dearie. Sure, he seems to be on our side, but how long will it last? He’s already gotten into fights with us townsfolk, so I’ve heard...”
“Oh, come off it! I’m sick of people like you bein’ so critical and paranoid! Would it kill ya’ to just give him a little trust?!”
“Hey, settle down over there!” Shadi shouted, “This is a place for drinkin’ and enjoyin’ ourselves. Keep your petty disputes outside!”
“Hmm, might I have struck a nerve?” the old woman said, “It’s interesting that you’d allow loathsome brawls here but not honest thought for the good of our community. Though I suppose it figures you’d take his side, considering the two of you were acting so friendly earlier...”
“Seriously?” the suited man continued, “Is everything some huge conspiracy to you?! You sound absolutely demented!”
“Now there’s no reason for the rudeness! I’m just trying to have a civil discussion. And you can dismiss me all you want, but plenty of my friends feel exactly the same!”
Shadi’s voice filled the bar. “I said, shut up!”
Andre jerked backwards in the wheelchair as Anthony headed quickly for the door again. “Well, you got all you needed here, right?” Anthony jubilantly remarked, “Might as well get going!”
Anthony’s tone didn’t fool Andre; it was obvious why they were leaving. But Andre was more than glad to get away from the argument that only seemed to get louder by the second. It was clear that Thomasville was still by no means a peaceful home for him.
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The two slowly stepped out of the bar, silently proceeding toward the center of the town square. The brief trip was already turning out to be less respiteful than Andre had hoped, but there was little they could do about it but continue on.
“So, err...what next?” Anthony asked, “Anything else you’d like to do or catch up on? ...Or d’ya wanna just head on back?”
Locations:
Bar, Restaurant, General Store, Anthony’s Abode
Back to Hospital
Andre Montellado (10/20) +15 DP
Bullets: 2 / Money: $13.75
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Post by OshaliteX2 on Jul 9, 2019 19:45:58 GMT -5
Go check in with... ehhh... the restaurant. I want a professional opinion on how good this spaghetti is--or was, perhaps.
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Post by Asphoxia on Jul 10, 2019 19:22:10 GMT -5
Restaurant works. Gotta make sure you eat food!
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Post by Planetbox on Oct 2, 2019 20:00:12 GMT -5
“How about we stop by the restaurant?” Andre asked.
“Wow, you must be really hungry, huh?” Anthony asked, “Well I guess it figures since all you’ve had to enjoy at the hospital was old mush.”
Suddenly they were at the restaurant because some grand deity decided this was taking an embarrassingly long amount of time.
Andre procured the broken take-away container and asked, “Does anyone know who this broken spaghetti belongs to?”
The townspeople stared at him. Some dude was like, “Wow, that’s some smelly spaghetti. But not as smelly as YOU!” and it became a whole thing. I began to question my life choices.
“Thanks for your patronage!” the Head Waiter exclaimed as Anthony and Andre wheeled out, returning the plot to its rightful direction.
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That night, Andre saw her once again. The woman. She stood before Andre and stared solemnly into the distance, a speck of white amidst the inky blackness.
“So you've met him, have you?”
“Him...?” Andre’s voice emerged from empty space. “I don’t know. I’ve met a lot of people.”
“The man with the scar, of course,” she replied, turning her head off to the side. “I forget what he’s been calling himself these days...”
“Oh, yes...Jolly Johnny,” Andre said, “The insane dude. I’d prefer not to meet him ever again.”
“Yes...That’s true, I suppose,” she let out a ragged breath. “Unfortunately, I don’t think you have much choice. The man’s taken something of an interest in you.”
“Ugh, why?” Andre asked, exasperated.
“You’ll have to ask him yourself. I just wanted to warn you to keep an eye out for him,” the woman explained.
“How do you even know this?” Andre asked.
“I have connections with many people,” she explained, “He just happens to be one of them...His voice is very loud.”
“You’re talking to him too?” Andre replied, “Is that how he seems to know so much about me?”
“You’ll simply have to believe me when I assure you otherwise,” she explained, shaking her head. “But I only give information to you...since you’re the only one worth receiving it. Though perhaps one day I’ll change my mind.”
The apparition of the woman began to fade. Andre heard voices arguing in the distance - a woman and a man - but he couldn’t make out a word.
“You don’t have time to rest anymore, Andre. There’s still people out there waiting for you,” the woman added, “I hope you’re ready.”
The arguing voices grew louder as Andre felt himself drifting back to reality.
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“Listen...I need to know when he’ll be out. This is urgent.”
“And for the last time, I can’t tell you anything. You know how much of a beating he took? It’s a wonder he’s still alive!”
Andre tossed and turned in his bed. He stared at the cracked clock on the wall. It was far too late to suffer a rude awakening.
He let out a sigh, but it came out as a wheeze. It was too dark to see, but the whispers near the door were clearly audible. After his recent experience, he eavesdropped only out of suspicion.
“For God’s sake!” It was Anthony’s voice. He caught his shout in his throat and shifted down to a whisper. “We can’t just twiddle our thumbs here. We have to do something!”
“You can do whatever you want on your own,” the calm, but gentle tone was clearly that of Florence. “But he is in no condition to be fighting for his life again. Give him a break. You owe it to him.”
“My highest priority is this town. It always will be. And like it or not, he’s most capable of protecting it,” Anthony hissed, “This operation may be the riskiest we’ve ever undertaken. Going without him...it’s unthinkable!”
Andre craned his neck toward the door. He could only make out vague figures. But it was clear enough who was who.
Florence was pacing through the packed hospital room while Anthony watched, arms crossed. The thump of her shoes on the wooden floor continued unabated for a while. Eventually, she responded, “You must understand...we have his health to consider.”
“I do too,” Anthony held up his hand. “But I’ve got more people to worry about than just Andre!”
Florence let out a groan, holding a fist up to her face. She remained silent for a moment, then lightly shook her head and replied, “Listen...I know how dire this is, but I can only with a good conscience allow him to assist in a tactical position. And still, you need to promise to only make him assist from the sidelines, understand?”
Anthony sighed with relief. “Thank goodness.” He reached for the door and began to leave. “I’ll let you know when we’re ready to go.”
The door closed with a faint slam. Florence stared at the door, mumbling something to herself.
A feeling of dread settled over Andre. He returned to his fitful sleep.
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Clouds of dust billowed behind the worn-down truck as it sped through the desert, pulling a small mobile home behind it. Brad sat in the driver’s seat, eyes squarely on the road and away from the bench-like car seat behind him where an injured Andre reclined, hands knit behind his head.
“Alright, I know this mission is a big deal,” Andre said, “But why did I specifically need to be part of it?”
“You’ve already more than proven yourself during the invasion,” Anthony replied from the passenger seat, where he was poring over a large map. “There’s lives on the line here. We can only settle for the best!”
“Also, you can make WEIRD crap out of nothing,” Brad shouted, “And I guess that counts for EVERYTHING.”
“Okay, second question,” Andre said, pausing for a moment to contemplate his wording. “Wouldn’t it be better to have a more...harmonious group?”
“I came along to keep an EYE on YOU,” Brad explained, “Besides, I haven’t had my fill of PAYBACK.”
“Brad also knows our destination better than any o’ us...just in case we need to pull off our own invasion.”
“EXACTLY,” Brad continued, “Before I was with the TOWN, I conducted a bit of a MISSION here with...” Brad trailed off. His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. “My brother...”
The mood became tense. Andre sighed. “Look...you haven’t even told me what this mission is, besides the fact that the cult’s involved. I should at least be prepared.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Anthony replied, chuckling in embarrassment. “We had to get outta here as soon as possible. I did intend to tell you during the ride. You can ask as many questions as you want, too.”
“BASICALLY,” Brad began, “Several townsfolk RAN AWAY during the invasion. Many have returned or been OTHERWISE accounted for, but some are MISSING.”
“That’s not unusual,” Anthony added, “Thomasville ain’t a permanent residence for a lotta folks. The moment trouble started brewing, they bolted for a new home. That’s the way o’ things nowadays.”
“So we thought nothing of it...UNTIL...a visitor came with word that four of our citizens had been CAPTURED by the cult!”
“What?! So that’s why it was so urgent...” Andre said, “Do you know who got taken?”
Anthony shook his head. “I’m afraid not. The messenger was just some migrant. He apparently heard the news from another captured runaway who was lucky enough to escape.”
“Those FREAKS were patrolling around the town, KIDNAPPING anyone they found!” Brad said, “It’s a RELIEF they only got FIVE people!” He slammed his fist on the dashboard. “We’ve gotta TAKE them DOWN!”
“So where are they, then?” Andre asked. “Where are we headed?”
“The SHRINE of the TWINS!” Brad answered.
“The cult calls their bases ‘shrines.’ The Shrine of the Twins is the closest one to Thomasville. That’s where the hostages should’ve been taken, and it’s most likely where Bobby and the others came from too,” Anthony traced his finger across the map. “And we know exactly where it is! It’s time to show ‘em some good ol’ Thomasville hospitality!”
“But there’s gonna be a LOAD of cultists there,” Brad shouted, “So I hope you’re READY. And REMEMBER, I’ll be keeping an eye on YOU too!”
“So,” Anthony lowered the map and smiled at the backseat. “Any questions?”
Andre Montellado (12/20) +15 DP
Bullets: 2 / Money: $13.75
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Post by OshaliteX2 on Oct 5, 2019 0:51:54 GMT -5
Uh yeah, what are the names and favorite colors of the captured folk? Do we know?
Secondly, what's the plan and who's doing what?
Thirdly, is the smelly spaghetti really that bad that we get heckled for it?
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Post by Planetbox on Nov 12, 2019 21:38:04 GMT -5
“Okay,” Andre said, “First of all, I think we need to establish the facts. What are the hostages’ favorite colors?”
“WHAT?!” Brad shouted, almost swerving into an old fence as he snapped his head to the back. “What does THAT have to do with anything?”
“Err, names...” Andre hastily corrected himself. “I meant names.”
“Oh, of course,” Anthony replied uncertaintly. “Well, like I said, we have no clue who the hostages are yet. We’re lucky to even know they exist.”
“Lots of folks RAN OFF during the INVASION,” Brad explained, “It could be ANY of them. And the MIGRANT who gave us the info was never in contact with them.”
“In that case...how will we even know who we’re looking for?” Andre asked.
“I’d imagine they’d be the people LOCKED UP in the SHRINE!” Brad said irritably.
“But they might have other prisoners there too,” Andre added, “And if they knew the circumstances, the cult could easily try to slip one of their members among the hostages. They’d just have to claim they always lived in Thomasville, and we’d bring them back with us unaware.”
“Hmm...That’s a good point,” Anthony said, “We’ll have to be careful. Still, I’m sure I’ve met everyone who’s ever passed through town. I should be able to tell the real hostages from the fake.”
“Alright. What’s the plan, then? And how do I fit into it?”
“Of course, the PLAN!” Brad shouted, turning to Anthony. “We have a plan, RIGHT?”
“We discussed this already, Brad,” Anthony chuckled good-naturedly. “You told me it would be impossible to sneak in and bust them out, right?”
“Oh, ABSOLUTELY!” Brad shouted, “As much as I’d love to just SNEAK a BOMB into the shrine and blow those DAMN freaks to SMITHEREENS, they’ll see us coming a MILE away! The shrine is right in the middle of a WASTELAND, so there’s no COVER whatsoever!”
Anthony waited a moment to make sure Brad had calmed down. “Yeah...exactly. So that means our only choice is to try negotiating with them. There’s a chance we can get ‘em to give up the hostages on their own.”
“Are...you sure that’s a good idea?” Andre asked, struggling to find a comfortable position in the backseat.
“SEE? That’s what I was SAYING earlier!” Brad said, “There’s no NEGOTIATING with them. Our minds don’t even operate on the same WAVELENGTH. The only option is to ANNIHILATE every one of them!”
“You know how many cultists are gonna be in there?” Anthony asked, “If we go in guns blazin’, we might as well surrender on the spot! You said yourself that we couldn’t sneak in, too. Diplomacy is our only option.”
“Wait, hold on,” Andre interjected, “Are you sure we can’t pull off an invasion? I mean...I once snuck out of a car packed with people pointing guns at me. I bet I could get us into the shrine somehow...”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Anthony snapped, “You’ve said it yourself, Andre. You’re still a total wreck! We brought you along to support from the sidelines. Ol’ Florence would have my neck if I let you break into enemy territory when you could barely even walk!”
“That should be up to HIM,” Brad replied, “I personally think it’s a BRILLIANT idea...much better than trusting the WHIMS of those murderous PSYCHOPATHS, anyway!”
“Oh, so now you’re agreein’ with him?” Anthony raised an eyebrow. “C’mon, Brad, you’re not thinkin’ straight. You just want the option that’ll let you crack some skulls...not that I can blame you.”
“Well, I’m the one who knows the LAYOUT of the place,” Brad replied, “If you don’t like my INPUT, you’re gonna have to DEAL with it.”
“Look, guys,” Andre began, “Either option is risky here...especially since I’m feeling so out of it. But either way, I’m the one who’d have to get us in, so the decision comes down to me...”
“Hmph. I suppose you’re right,” Anthony mumbles, “So what’ll it be then?”
Andre looks up out the car window, watching the dull gray sky streak by above them.
Make your Choice:
INVADE or NEGOTIATE?
Andre Montellado (12/20) +15 DP
Bullets: 2 / Money: $13.75
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Post by Lenrap on Nov 12, 2019 22:07:06 GMT -5
Disguise yourself as rainbow cultists obsessed with finding out everybody's favorite color. You don't even need to steal a disguise, you may be able to convince the cultists just by being chads who want to find everybody's favorite colors.
If they like red, that means they're demons, kill em.
If they like blue, they're all about ebb and flow. Decide their fate based on the favorite color of the last person.
If they like yellow, they don't exist and you should move on to the next person. Who likes yellow?
If they like orange, they've been to prison and have served their time. They're free to go but keep an eye on em...
If they like green, they're all about instinct. Feed them a health point and see how they react before deciding their fate.
If they like purple, they're royalty. Bow down in hopes of getting a reward or just rob them depending on how desperate you are for cash.
If they like black, they're goth. Tell them My Chemical Romance is back together to disable them.
If they like white, you can just stain their clothes with kool-aid to disable them.
If they like gray, they're indecisive. Flip a coin to decide their fate.
If they like brown, instantly defecate. This will not accomplish anything.
If they like pink, compliment them. They will be too flustered to react.
Don't kill anyone until you've gone through every person. You may be able to identify the five hostages plus any unfaithful cultists before any fighting breaks out and either turn the upcoming fight in your favor or escape.
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Post by Dimitri on Nov 12, 2019 22:10:59 GMT -5
Just teleport lmao
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Post by OshaliteX2 on Nov 12, 2019 22:13:28 GMT -5
Disguise yourself as rainbow cultists obsessed with finding out everybody's favorite color. You don't even need to steal a disguise, you may be able to convince the cultists just by being chads who want to find everybody's favorite colors. If they like red, that means they're demons, kill em. If they like blue, they're all about ebb and flow. Decide their fate based on the favorite color of the last person. If they like yellow, they don't exist and you should move on to the next person. Who likes yellow? If they like orange, they've been to prison and have served their time. They're free to go but keep an eye on em... If they like green, they're all about instinct. Feed them a health point and see how they react before deciding their fate. If they like purple, they're royalty. Bow down in hopes of getting a reward or just rob them depending on how desperate you are for cash. If they like black, they're goth. Tell them My Chemical Romance is back together to disable them. If they like white, you can just stain their clothes with kool-aid to disable them. If they like gray, they're indecisive. Flip a coin to decide their fate. If they like brown, instantly defecate. This will not accomplish anything. If they like pink, compliment them. They will be too flustered to react. Don't kill anyone until you've gone through every person. You may be able to identify the five hostages plus any unfaithful cultists before any fighting breaks out and either turn the upcoming fight in your favor or escape. I can't not second this. |
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Feed me lemons or feed me life!
