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Post by crystalofchaos on Jun 6, 2012 19:03:34 GMT -5
Jezza smiled, a brilliant thing like ivory razor blades. "Yes. Yes, we should. Thank you." She took a minor note of his smile and realized he had a fairly handsome way of reassuring her. "I-I left my jacket and everything in the hall when you shouted I-" She looked away with a hot flush tinging her cheeks. Hell, he'd already seen her cry and the thought reminded her idly to wipe her eyes before she looked like too much of a fool in front of him. "I came running when I heard you shout but I wasn't sure where you'd gone."
The backs of her hands made a quick wipe rag for her tears which were quickly wiped off on her pants. "If not for the pockets I'd like to grab the coat as it'd make a good set of bandages if you sustain any serious wounds. I'd also like to take a look at wherever the infected got you to assess muscle damage or tendon strain." She felt like a gibbering idiot as she pressed her back to the wall and stood like a wobbly lamb just learning to walk.
"The towel will also make a great bit of padding for poultices and the like. If we can find a laboratory or perhaps even a greenhouse I'll be set to take good care of you." She felt her breathing beginning to steady and her heartbeat slowing. She'd be fine as long as she could keep Kyle healthy. "Don't ever scare me like that again if you can help it."
She scooped up the medicines and gave a soft laugh that seemed too short. "By the by, it was a truly kind gesture but." She paused and bit her lip as she rolled the end of that sentence in her head. No, he didn't need to be bothered with the details. "But I didn't get to thank you for it so, thanks." She flashed him a smile that was only meant to mask the darker thought. Nothing in that bag could help her.
"Let's go, the towel and the coat are what I need, I can carry them myself. I'll keep watch of your back while you push ahead. Unless you're armed we should probably try to keep doors between us and the infected, if they bite you then it's game over for both of us. If they bite me I might not turn." She gave a wicked little grin. "I'm already infected with something else so it isn't as likely to take to me. If you have any medical allergies I'd like to know them advance though."
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Damen
Junior Member
Dark Sex God
Posts: 99
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Post by Damen on Jun 8, 2012 21:27:29 GMT -5
Kyle expertly hid the grimace when he saw Jezza’s shark-like teeth.
Bet her boyfriend loves getting’ head from her.
He shoved the thoughts away and looked around the room while removing his newly acquired (or reacquired, as it was his personal firearm) from the holster and ejected the magazine before pulling the slide back, catching the round he had loaded in his hand and locking the slide open.
“Yeah, you took a wrong turn, but it was best. I wouldn’t have wanted you to get hurt while I was having a polite disagreement with the things that were trying to eat me.”
He was fully aware of how stressed the young woman was having experienced escorting civilians who had never been in a fight out of a combat zone. He had found that, whenever possible, acting as though nothing serious was going on was the best way to help calm them down and keep them from doing something stupid. As an attempt to do just that, he moved quietly and casually over to a clear floor space, kneeled down and sat his weapon down so he could reach into his breast pocket and withdraw his multi-tool.
Keeping as casual as voice as he could as he selected a small phillipshead screw driver, he said; “I’ll do my best not to frighten you, but I can’t make any promises. The night is, after all, still young.”
He picked up his weapon and held it in one hand while pressing the phillipshead hard against the pistols firing pin and pushed down on the firing pin stop. He held his thumb over the firing pin as he gently removed the stop and then the firing pin assembly; “Your coat and the towel are where you left them, we can go pick them up here in a little while.”
He sat the firing pin on the floor and, selecting a flathead screw driver from his multi-tool, he coaxed the weapon’s extractor out of the slide. Setting aside the extractor, he put the now inoperative pistol on the carpet with the multi-tool shortly joining it. Picking up the firing pin, he slide the spring from it and examined the thin metal rod closely for signs of tampering.
If it were me, I would try and trick someone I hated into trusting his life on a non-firing weapon. Besides which, he thought ruefully, that note did say my carelessness would kill me.
Kyle had been in combat many times and was well familiar with a wide range of firearms. The 1911 pistol was a design centuries old and was still one of the most produced firearms on the planet. A good portion of the newer firearms were only attempts to improve on this nearly ancient design, so it was one of the first weapons Kyle had studied during his time in the military and that meant he had a reasonably high chance of spotting something amiss.
He studied the firing pin closely without noticing any filing marks on the point and he was able to judge it at about the right length. Eyeballing it was as good as he could do without a micrometer. He gently put pressure on it to see if it was weakened, but while it flexed a little, it didn’t snap apart. The next thing he tested was to see if the spring had been tampered with but it, too, passed inspection. He slid the spring back over the firing pin and set it aside, next picking up the extractor. Another way to sabotage a pistol would be to mess with the extractor so a shell would stick in the chamber or cause a jam. The extractor passed his inspection, though, and he swiftly reassembled the pistol.
Before he loaded it, he dry-fired the pistol to see if any other internals had been altered, but the weapon functioned flawlessly. Figuring the results were as good as they were going to get without a test-firing, and not wanting to waste the round to find out, he chambered the loose round, let the slide slam shut and slapped the magazine back into the weapon.
An all or nothing test, it seems.
He got to his feet and moved back between Jezza and the door he had come through while returning his weapon to his holster; “I appreciate your concern, Jezabel, but it’s nothing an aspirin won’t cure and no, I don't have any allergies,” he paused and thought for a second, “Okay, I’m likely going to be moving quickly but I won’t get too far ahead of you. When I go into a room, I want you to wait outside while I clear it and I don’t want you to come in until I say its safe. If something does happen and I have to start shooting, I want you to drop to the floor and make yourself as flat as you can, alright?”
As he waited for her reply, the door behind him swung open and, acting on instinct, his hand flashed to the holster as he turned his head to see the attacker. He stopped, his weapon half drawn when he realized that the newcomer was not only not a monster, but a seemingly healthy man a little older than himself. The sleeves of his shirt were stretched taut over his large biceps with the letters B.I.O. stitched on them.
Kyle blinked at the newcomer; “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to knock?”
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Post by crystalofchaos on Jun 9, 2012 0:41:17 GMT -5
Jezza seemed to realize she was smiling and her lips all but slammed shut as she looked away. The look on her face said it all, she wasn't used to smiling and she knew painfully well that people didn't seem to appreciate her smiles. She nodded somberly when he said her wrong turn was for the best. She wasn't sure what she had been thinking, maybe that was the problem to begin with. She hadn't thought, she had bolted across an open space that scared her shitless when she first encountered it just because she had heard him shout.
I hate people, they remind me to feel all the emotions I had when I was human. She wanted to say something, to express what she meant by the not scaring her. Somehow she couldn't stand to admit it even to herself. Despite every ulterior motive she had she had actually been worried about him and that worried her more than anything. She was usually the master of detachment and stoic indifference, but here was someone who within several minutes had scared her out of her shell and her mind. I wonder what would happen if he even knew what he's accomplished. She nodded numbly, her lips pursed tightly as if to hide her teeth like a turtle in its shell.
"There's one thing you should be aware of before we continue any further. I cannot look into a large room until we're moving, I'll freeze." She looked him in the eyes and spoke tight lipped as she could. "I've been in a basement or a cage since I was very young, I won't bother you with details but you should know for your own sake. I am SEVERELY terrified of wide open spaces." She waved a hand as if dismissing any argument before it began. "That's why I'll take to watching behind you while you move ahead. I can't see the large space until I move into it, Once I see it I have you at my back and I'll make it through without curling up in a corner with terror. I haven't danced this dance in a very long time but I have had to work around this handicap in the past."
She looked down and folded her hands around her grip on the bag before she absentmindedly reached for the rubber band in her hair and untwisted it with one hand. Her braid tumbled back into place and she shook it side to side to even it out. She finally slumped against the wall and slid down until she was sitting. Pulling her braid over one shoulder she began idly fiddling with it as if in deep contemplation. "I may have to cut it..." She wasn't talking to anyone in particular but she let the words trail off a moment before she made a sound that was almost a sob. "I hate cutting it. It's-it's the only free choice I've ever really had." She sounded wistful but her voice betrayed what her eyes refused, it was a wounding thought that filled her with tears.
Jezza fell into silence as she flipped her braid back over her shoulder and watched Kyle take his gun apart. She didn't seem to be interested so much in the gun as what he was doing to it. She liked picking things apart. Ghoulishly bright eyes watched him intently as he finished and moved back to the door. She listened to him with rapt attention as though she were a child learning a very important lesson. When he was done she nodded and gave a closed-lip smiled. "Understood. I'll do my best not to slow you down."
No matter how she might dislike most people or how she despised contact with normal humans Kyle had a good charisma about him. He was obviously well versed in how to keep skittish folk like her reassured and calm. She liked that about him even though she still worried that her like might turn on her like a rabid dog. She couldn't afford to let her guard down, not even around him.
She was barely moving to stand, a dull ache in her knees flaring up momentarily to remind her of her previous fit. She really hoped she didn't fall prey to her own infection at a bad time for Kyle. She wasn't sure if he was up to dragging her again but his strategy seemed like it'd make an allowance for such incapacitation. She was glad to have someone experienced on her side.
Any thoughts she had scattered like roaches when you turn on a light as the door flung open and another human burst through. Jezza's first reaction, almost as soon as Kyle turned was to back pedal in a near crab walk to the furthest corner with a screech like a banshee before flinging the rubber band in a laughable display of self defense. At least she hadn't thrown the bag of meds at him.
After Kyle's query of knocking Jezza dropped her face in her knees and groaned. "More humans." She whined melodramatically and glared at the newcomer. Something registered in the more sensible part of her brain as she looked him over. Blood. Blood and gore across his vest. It was enough to bring her to her feet in an instant (ignoring a groan from her knees) as she pushed Kyle back and then stood toe to toe with the newcomer. "Infected, bitten, or exposed? Do you have any injuries? Allergies? Cuts, scrapes, open wounds?" The questions spilled like a waterfall as she interrogated the newcomer.
"Kyle, sterilize your vest immediately." That one word left absolutely no room for argument. Kyle had been in a scrape with zombies but the blood on the new man's vest looked nothing like zombie gore, dare she say it looked all too human and it looked fairly fresh. If there was one thing she refused to risk it was an infection amongst humans who could turn easier than her and eat her. Without even waiting for Kyle's response she fished the rubbing alcohol out of the bag of goodies, scrubbed her hands with a small amount, capped it and tossed it at Kyle like it was a live grenade. Seeming as though she'd become the queen of hell itself, she turned to Kyle with a glare of utmost seriousness (one of the very same glares that might have had poor little Horace all but pissing his pants) and let a single word seethe past her sharp teeth. "NOW."
Time to play doctor between a human carrying zombie gore on his chest and another who might be easily receptive to said zombie gore's effects. What fun. At least this was something she was somewhat familiar with. If there was anything she was comfortable with her role in, it was avoiding outbreaks amongst her so called peers. Funny how bold I become when stressed out beyond my wits. I should probably save some face. She turned back to the other quickly, took a steady breath, and put her hands up in a surrendering gesture. "Sorry, rough day. Don't want it getting worse." She tried to flash a reassuring smile and kept her lips tightly closed but her face was almost gaunt with terror as the scenarios played through her head. One fuck up and there would be hell to pay.
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Post by Queen of Cunts on Jun 16, 2012 8:38:39 GMT -5
Shak was normally more than happy to follow along behind the person who was taking care of all the boring stuff, only stepping in when there was stuff that needed to be killed. In this instance, she was already busy while he was fannying around with the door. She’d removed the largest picture from the wall - all of which seemed to feature the same hot, dead chick - and put her foot through the canvas. Then, she’d pried away the biggest piece of the frame she could. It made a passable club, and the fact that there was a nail in one end just made it that much better. She’d had a lot of fun in the past with nails.
Fortunately, by the time she was done liberating her new weapon, her new friend and companion had made it through the doorway and exited into the corridor beyond. Shak lumbered after him, club in hand. Already, she was finding that she didn’t mind having him around. They had a nice division of labour. And the fact that smacking his ass had made him uptight was definitely going to get him several more smacks in the future. She would put his reaction in the box marked “motivation for later”.
He seemed nice, even if he was all wrinkly like testicles.
“Oi, sad sack,” she called, “do you even know where we’re going?”
She heard the scream a moment later, and smirked to herself as he hurried off. Off to get himself a courtesy blow job no doubt.
She thundered through along in his wake until they burst through one room, then another, and into what looked like a smoking room. Her first thought was that she’d lost her fags, and that made her desperately sad. On the bright side, though, maybe she’d find some here.
The second thing she noticed was the people.
Or, at least, the symbol on the people.
She grinned, her head dipping, her eyes narrowing. Her fingers, still caked with blood, flexed where her claws would have been.
“Umbrella,” she purred, before something that resembled an angry little ball of hair and fury shunted past, dressed in a lab coat and started saying something about blood infection.
“That’s nice, vagina,” she said, shooing the lady-thing out of the way, “now why don’t you give sad sack a blow job for coming to your rescue. Then you can put the tea on. I need to have a chat with that scum over there.”
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Damen
Junior Member
Dark Sex God
Posts: 99
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Post by Damen on Jun 19, 2012 11:56:12 GMT -5
Kyle glanced at the two newcomers. The male was tall, with dark hair and eyes, quite muscular, dressed in a paramilitary style outfit and had the look of someone who has seen his share of battles. The woman was a total contrast; short, stocky with hair the color of a stop light, scars on her face and a slightly maniacal glint in her eyes.
He was about to say something else when a blur of brown and white shot past him and then started grilling the man about health issues a few seconds before he felt a bottle of rubbing alcohol slapping against his chest. He caught it reflexively while listening to the demands that he disinfect his clothing.
Figuring it would be easier to humor the woman than to argue the point, he opened the bottle and splashed the liquid on the gore covering his vest while eying the two newcomers when the short redhead said something that reached his ears and made him pause.
"Wait, scum?" Kyle actually looked over his shoulder to see if there was someone behind him that he'd missed.
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R.E.S.
Full Member
Made In Heaven
A Hero's Not Afraid To Give His Life
Posts: 133
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Post by R.E.S. on Jun 22, 2012 16:39:00 GMT -5
Chris hadn’t really had the chance to answer Shak’s question about whether or not he knew where he was going before they bumped into the others. He knew exactly where he was going. This wasn’t just another Spenser Mansion wannabe; it was a damn replica! Passage for passage, hallway for hallway, the wallpaper and furnishings and sconces and wood-ply and paint… they were all the same! The nostalgia was so surreal that it hit him like a ton of brick, and for just one second that high-pitched outcry made him think of Rebecca. Probably part of why he’d found himself so quickly carried away, to be honest. But it wasn’t Rebecca, obviously. And the woman herself didn’t appear to be in any immediate danger. Actually, she had flicked a rubber band right at him out of self-defense and was now glaring in his general direction.
At least three or four inches taller than his five-foot-nine frame, lank, with a twist of long raven-like hair and glittering, sapphire eyes, the woman was something of a curiosity to behold. The word “humans” hadn’t entirely failed to escape his notice either.
She began to grill him for the answers to questions that he didn’t really see the relevance of; medical questions, about allergies and injuries. Chris had neither. Well, except for that damn headache and the pain in his ribs. But he could shoulder that for now. That could wait. She swiveled around and then demanded of the Umbrella guy—“Kyle”, he gathered—that he sterilize himself and she threw a bottle of whatever disinfectant at him. Oh, his tactical. Was that what this was about? Now he understood.
He looked down at the zombie-bits across his vest (courtesy of Miss Shak) and was about to tell the woman in front of him that it was alright as she apologized for having a bad day, when his red-headed acquaintance used the word ‘vagina’ and practically shoved her out of the way. The 'blowjob' line didn't exactly bode well with him either. Needless to say Christopher did not appreciate the behavior, nor did he condone it. Chris didn’t care if she swore herself up and down the street, but that wasn’t any way for one lady to talk to another woman. He’d punched an RPD officer’s face in for calling their co-worker a vagina once—his Jill, actually. Everybody’d thought that it was about the coffee that had been subsequently splashed in his face, but that was just the byproduct of the initial swing.
Now, Chris didn’t like Umbrella scuzzbags. Probably just as well as the next guy over. Actually; he had a particular vendetta against the company, and anyone who knew him knew it. But after meeting Rodrigo and Carlos, after hearing about Mikhail Victor and the stupid mistakes of a certain ‘Burnside Senior’, after reading the diaries of so many men and women whose lives were filled with regret and remorse right before the end, with families and loved ones that they would never be able to see again, Chris understood with perfect clarity that his battle was not against the human beings that Umbrella treated like living meat-shields, but the rotten core or the corporation itself. Umbrella had no face, and if it did, it would probably look like Albert Wesker.
“Hey, Shak!—” Chris snapped, rounding on her, his tone level. He was about to say something more, even as he placed himself in-between the black-haired woman and the S.T.A.R.S. officer in a preemptive measure to keep Jezza safe while talking red-head into backing down, but suddenly the floors shook from beneath them and the walls of the entire east wing of the estate rattled with a violent, thundering crash. The tremor caused almost made the brunette gunman to lose his footing and Chris whipped his head in the direction of the L-shaped passage which would lead them to the front of the mansion, as soon as the shaking had stopped. Then, there was a moment of gunfire.
“—what the hell was that?”
[[Sorry for the delay everyone. Truly. Only 29 days left of this semester. HURNGH. Sorry.]]
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Post by crystalofchaos on Jun 22, 2012 23:22:15 GMT -5
Jezza stopped in almost shock. Was he defending her? He WAS! She was a little too thrilled by the prospect of someone actually defending her even if only in verbage and by standing between her and the raucous assault of the rude red head's flapping noise hole. How nice, I doubt he has as much balls as Kyle though. Still sweet of him to protect me like a wilting little flower. She made a mental note to be pointedly nicer to this man at least with her words.
If she lost too many brownie points he might not be so willing to defend her from harm or fiery spirited redheads. The Shak human, creature, twit, thing, however had already earned some scorn and Jezebel was going to be a particularly vocal about her disdain for the human woman. She was about to say something to the effect of retaliation when she thought better of it and slowly started to close her mouth.
The shaking floor and quaking mansion was the last thing Jezebel expected at that moment and her unspoken thoughts got bitten off a little too abruptly as she tripped up; a couple of her sharp teeth sinking slightly into her lower lip. The sound she let out was a little less than human and little more than a stifled howl. A few small pricks of crimson trickled down her lips as she cradled her mouth with wide eyes staring at the man in front of her. Well fuck. She was less worried about the sound she'd made and more worried about what had just caused the kerfuffle.
She brushed the miniscule droplets from her mouth only succeeding in smearing her lower lip with the crimson remnants. Great now she was going to be a bit easier to infect. Today was going fan-fucking-tastic. Gunfire and things crashing about, a bathroom full of flash bang grenades and a bunch of Moroi and Moroaică that were probably shambling the halls of this place if she had to guess. She used the terms loosely but she preferred it to calling them infected. Infected was only a word used for compromise when she couldn't think of anything more eloquent than zombies. She was definitely alert enough now to start processing the various words, phrases, commands, scenarios, ect in her head.
Perhaps such terms wouldn't get quite the reaction with this group as it had with others. Whatever the case she wasn't going to give up her fancy words of the homeland just because others didn't understand them immediately. They could figure it out along the way. "We should move. Now. Before the-" She paused and spat a little to clear her mouth of some remaining bile and blood. "Moroi find us." Her voice's tone changed a bit, the gentle inflection of an accent almost crushed rising as if from under an immense weight. A faint lilt came to her voice as she said the odd name, blunted by time and practice but still very much a part of her memory.
She didn't care if anyone else thought her strange for the usage of such a term. Ancient folklore was, after all, one of her favorite subjects and she wasn't one to break a long standing habit just because she wouldn't get a reaction anymore. Sure Umbrella had named their beasts, she had thought they named most of them very poorly. She'd have to point that out to someone later, probably Kyle. Right now she just wanted to get far the fuck away from whatever was being shot at. Like a meek little school girl Jezza raised a hand very tentatively, the appendage trembling with restrained fear as another, particularly vicious sound came from down the hall and chilled her to the bone.
"I'd like to go in the opposite direction of that noise if we could. I rather think being equipped to handle anything bigger and toothier than myself is best left to professionals such as Kyle. Unless we need Kyle to strip down and kill another Moroi while naked again. I'd rather him stay healthy enough to see me through the night." Without much further delay Jezebel retrieved her rubber band from the floor and made sure she had everything else needed before looking to Kyle and nodding.
"We're out, let's grab what was left behind and I'll see what I can concoct in the way of medicines for you along the way. Keep ahead of me, if anything comes barreling at us from behind run like the om rău." The end of that sentence translated roughly to 'devil' in the noun usage but it didn't even register to her as not having been in English. In fact she was quite oblivious to the fact that she'd just said it not only in Romanian but with her accent flaring like a flame catching a fresh breath of air.
The short flame haired cunt ball be damned, Jezebel was not sticking around to find out what the hell was getting shot at. She grabbed Kyle by the vest, put him in front of her, and pushed him towards the opposite direction. "You other humans can come along if you like." She demonstrated her point by nudging Kyle along a little more gently while keeping him out of cunt-roll's direct line of access.
"You, missus cunt-roll," She waved a hand vaguely in Shak's direction to acknowledge the woman. "Can have your hands bandaged up if you like. Once I am far away from whatever dihanie (monster) is making a fuss." Again another strange word that made her accent drench her voice like honey. She was taking a rather late note of the blood caking the woman's hands but at least there was some acknowledgement involved.
For something bad happening and gunshots sounding she was as verbose and snide as ever. Fuck this day, fuck whoever had put her here and they could do so with a cactus powdered in chalk dust. If it was her master he could go fuck himself in the ass with Kyle's huge cock.
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Post by Queen of Cunts on Jun 24, 2012 9:53:27 GMT -5
(OOC: Written with the collaboration of Damen. Also, assuming we are all in the Smoking Room.)
Shak smirked as Chris stepped neatly between her and the vagina. He was clearly trying to safeguard his blowjob, which was to be expected, considering what a virile specimen of manhood she clearly was. She was wholly surprised that he thought she would. After all, she was a man of honour.
It was almost like he was expecting some kind of violence to occur between them. It wasn’t like she was the one in danger. But the fact that he was willing to engage in an honourable duel was further proof that he was a good man. Although he did smell funny. Not bad funny, just peculiar.
Shak didn’t have anything against the vagina. She seemed perfectly nice, and spoke the language of Shak’s people. She silently accepted the offer of friendship in her head and filed her away with Chris. Whatever a cunt-roll was, she quite fancied one, although probably not a disembodied one rolling down a hill, or between two pieces of bread. That’d be a little bit gross.
Still, she had to protect them. It didn’t seem like they understood. Her eyes locked with those of the scum. It seemed almost like he understood. A moment later, it stopped seeming. He drew his weapon faster than she could blink, the moment she took her first step towards him. Fortunately, when he pulled the trigger he only succeeded in putting a hole in the wall behind her. And deafening her. That wasn’t nice. There was a smell like burning hair and her neck was suddenly itching on the right side. Maybe he wasn’t so shit a shot after all.
She didn’t let him get off another. Her hand clamped down on his wrist, keeping his aim forced away. If she’d had her claws, she’d have just scooped his stomach out onto the floor right there and then. Instead, he managed to twist his pistol out of her grip and slam it into the side of her face. Her nose burst and sprayed over her lips. She grinned, teeth marbled red, and jerked her head forward, butting him in the temple.
“Double points,” she said, grinning, twisting his arm hard, trying to force the muzzle of his pistol against his own crotch. Her voice sounded dull, like she was hearing it underwater.
He was struggling too much, so she jerked back on his thumb and the gun tumbled out of his spasming fingers. She was probably twice his size anyway, and what she lacked in the training he had, she more than made up for with ferocity.
“Umbrella bullets don’t count,” she informed him, ignoring the feel of the ground shaking under her feet. Something was smashing up the house somewhere nearby, and she couldn’t hear it, thanks to him, but she could feel it.
Problems were despatched in order of proximity and she didn’t want them being shot in the back. The other two weren’t from around here. They didn’t know how it worked. They smelled like chemicals, but he smelled like gunpowder and lies. The insignia on his outfit was all she needed to know. Better he die now than someone else die later who didn’t deserve it.
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Post by King of Cunts on Jun 24, 2012 9:54:38 GMT -5
(OOC: Continued from the Main Hall thread.)
There was a gunshot, and voices from the left as he reached the end of the corridor. It looked like there was a corridor to the right, but he ignored it. It sounded like Shak. It was almost too much to hope. He barged through the anteroom, barely even giving the frescos plastered across the walls a second glance.
The room next to it was some kind of lounge - plush sofas, a veneered coffee table and a marble fireplace. All of that was irrelevant in the face of the fact that Shak was there. She had some guy in the uniform of a UBCS officer on his knees, a piece of wood with a couple of nails aimed between his thighs. She was laughing, playing with her food. He couldn’t help but feel like there was some kind of misunderstanding here, bubbling under the surface.
“Shak,” he said, interrupting her work and stepping neatly between them. He put one foot on her board to keep it from sinking through the crotch of his trousers. “Hold it, okay? We’ve got bigger problems right now. We can sort out who’s friend and who’s foe later.”
He glanced over at the room’s other two occupants, then nodded towards the wall, where a shotgun was resting on the wall, supported on two metal brackets. “Someone grab that gun. We need to move. Now.”
Shak was struggling to get her board unstuck, still determined to get her double points. Burke put a hand on her shoulder.
“Doesn’t look like he’s in any better a position than us, Red,” he said, before leaning in and whispering the one magic word that would stay her hand, “besides. Tyrant.”
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Damen
Junior Member
Dark Sex God
Posts: 99
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Post by Damen on Jun 24, 2012 10:47:02 GMT -5
'I would never hit a woman' was something Kyle had heard growing up but hitting a woman was something he'd also found to be sometimes unavoidable in his line of work. Every now and then he'd found that nothing could calm a hysterical person down quite like a right cross to the face. Often, it was easier to knock them out and carry them to safety than it was to reason with them. However, this time he wasn't overly burdened with the guilt of hitting a woman.
This was due in no small part to the fact that he wasn't quite certain if the person assaulting him even was a woman.
The redhead paused for a second when a newcomer spoke to her and Kyle saw his opening. Not above playing dirty, he ducked his head and bit down on the redhead's wrist as hard as he could until he felt the grip weaken slightly allowing him to free his hand. Not wanting to waste an opportunity, he then balled up his fist and gave the redhead an uppercut that landed right into her crotch.
"God damn it, I'm not even with Umbrella anymore!" he bellowed as he twisted his body and caught her heavily muscled arm under one of his own.
He twisted again and slammed her against the wall and pressed one forearm against the back of her neck while pulling one of her arms straight back behind her and keeping her wrist firmly in his grasp while standing in a manner that would make a kick to the legs exceedingly difficult; "I woke up stark naked in a bathtub full of ice and this was the only thing I had to put on. Now would you please calm down? I'd rather be elsewhere and having my bones broken isn't going to make that any easier to accomplish."
He looked over his shoulder, unsure of how well he could keep the redhead pinned once she started to fight back, and looked pleadingly at the newly arrived dark haired man; "Would you please keep this person off of me until we can get a chance to talk? At least until after we deal with whatever is coming for us?"
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R.E.S.
Full Member
Made In Heaven
A Hero's Not Afraid To Give His Life
Posts: 133
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Post by R.E.S. on Jun 24, 2012 13:07:08 GMT -5
[[OOC: Gonna assume that Johnathan will be joining us in just a moment or two, but but Chris had things to say. ;D]]
This was the reason that Chris had placed himself between Jezza and Shak. After that dangerous gleam of light he’d seen in her eyes when she’d asked if he was Umbrella—a light that had immediately dissipated once he had dismissed the notion—he intuitively understood that she meant business when it came to the baddies, and that alone was good enough of a reason to place Jezza behind him. It was part of Chris’ basic instincts to keep a woman safe, which is why, (in part), it made him hesitate when Shak and Kyle broke out into a brawl before he could seem to stop it: He was conflicted between protecting Shak and helping the Umbrella guy. Although, quite obviously, miss Shak could stand her own.
Before he could make a deciding call on who was wrong and how to best break them apart, another guy did; another newcomer. He guessed that the guy who joined them could only be the ‘Burke’ fellow from earlier, given his and Shak's familiarity with one another and the way he seemed able to get her to back off.
What was WITH everyone? Tension was high, sure, but didn’t they get it?—they had to work together if they were going to make this work. Sometimes Chris was a little slow to put together the whole puzzle, but he knew that much for damn sure. Two ‘half’ S.T.A.R.S. operatives, a doctor, a (former?) Umbrella operative, and himself. They were all stressed and agitated, and from what he was beginning to put together, none of them knew what they were doing there—none of them but him, that is. He had played this game before. And it was a fucking game. The last time that he was in these harrowed halls, he was naive and unawares, put under pressure to solve every puzzle and unlock every mystery, to try to find his compatriots and save them if he could. But now, as back then, self preservation actually wasn’t Chris first interest; it was in making them see that they’d have to do the same and put their own differences aside if they were all going to make it out of this alive.
The Umbrella guy took a few dirty swings to get Shak off of him and then backed away into a corner. The fact that he didn’t immediately lunge for his gun however and cap her in the fucking face told him that he was probably a pretty decent guy and most likely telling the truth about his current predicament. It also confirmed his suspicions that the others were probably about as confused and without memory of how they had gotten here as he was when he’d first woken up strapped to the electrical rod; ‘I woke up stark naked in a bathtub full of ice and this was the only thing I had to put on.’
“Everyone, calm down. Listen to me for a moment; I’ve been here before, alright? I think I have an idea about what’s going on, but none of us are gonna make it out of here alive if we start trying to kill each other here and now. Besides, we all have a much BIGGER problem on our hands.”
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Post by sexystrife on Jun 24, 2012 14:18:38 GMT -5
John could not enter the room fast enough it seemed. He hadn’t been long after Burke, as the bigger man had made sure to reverse the dragging earlier as they ran from the lumbering tyrant. The blonde exhaled sharply, slamming his body weight harshly against the door as though trying to catch himself before falling to his knees. His body quaked, and the pistol lingering in his vice grip trembled. No, no he could not allow himself to be weak now, he could not afford it. Not with Claudia missing in this place. John quickly composed himself and removed his person from the door, joining the others as quickly as he could.
A ghost of a smile found his lips as his eyes quickly found Burke standing before Miss shak and what looked to be an umbrella soldier, though his smile left him as confusion quickly settled in. Why would an umbrella soldier be present in such a place? Why a mansion at all? Why any of this? His lips settled into a frown as the obvious answer to it all floated across his mind, causing his stomach to churn at the very thought. Albert. John shook the thought and found himself studying the other faces within the room: A woman, and another soldier, perhaps the supposed ‘friend’ shak had spoken of through the door. Strange, John thought, there had been something about the brunette’s face that was familiar to him. Very familiar. He couldn’t quite place it.
“Miss shak,” John began, his voice strangely even for how afraid he actually was, “as wonderful as it is to see you again, perhaps we should save our quarreling for later?”
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Post by Queen of Cunts on Jun 24, 2012 15:07:51 GMT -5
(OOC: Once again written with Damen. It is now officially a forum game to keep Kyle’s pistol away from him.)
She kept the gun wedged beneath her bust, her arm flush to her torso, preventing him from getting at it. She was grinning all the while as he ground her face into the papered brick. She admired him going for the cunt punt, but the last time she’d had a space between her legs that hadn’t been filled with muscle was when she’d been six. Although, the biting had been unexpected. Good call on his part. Unless he’d drawn blood, in which case she was going to have to bust a cap in him.
She flattened her body to the wall and then thrust her butt out, shunting him off her with her full body weight. In a single, graceful movement, she twisted her body with the pressure of his grip and ducked out of his hold, before reversing it sharply and flipping him onto his back. She was contemplating stepping on his nuts, when Sad Sack made an announcement.
It was impossible to imagine what could possibly be a bigger problem than Umbrella. But then, the UBCS weren’t especially high scorers on the League Table, and Burke had mentioned a Tyrant. Maybe Sad Sack was psychic or something.
Still, she probably had to give Scum the benefit of the doubt. Burke was former UBCS himself, so it wasn’t like there wasn’t a precedent. She lifted her boot off his crotch and leaned back against the wall, folding her arms and tapping her newly acquired pistol against her flank. Her gun now. But then, it wasn’t like she needed it overmuch. She could defend herself pretty well without, and she’d been doing pretty well up to now. She handed it to Burke. Either way, better that someone on their side have it.
“Alright, Sad Sack. I will go along with your crazy idea of mutual cooperation for now,” she informed him, magnanimously, before a sombre note crept into her voice, “but only if you get the shotgun. It’s dangerous out there.”
She turned to look at Debatably Ex-Scum and narrowed her eyes at him. “As for you, you get to live. But no promises.”
And then there was a Jonathan.
“Jonathan!” she greeted, marching across the room and crushing his cheeks between her thumbs and forefingers, legitimately pleased to see him. But a quick head count revealed that not every member of the party was there with them. “Where’s Malice? And Titch?”
(OOC: Continued in the east wing thread. )
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Post by sexystrife on Jun 24, 2012 15:48:22 GMT -5
John had been with shak for a long while yet, and as to be expected he’d learned early on that whenever the woman had anything questionable on her hands, she was sure to cop a feel of some kind. Not to endanger him, though many would argue against that, but to see that look on his face. The blonde groaned inwardly, wiping the gore from his cheeks with his forearm when she finally pulled away. Despite that Jonathan smiled at Shak, a warm and grateful smile only for her, he was glad she was safe.
“I woke up here alone,” John began, fishing his pockets for the note he’d found aside him when he’d woken up then handed it to her, his face no longer alight with the warmth of a smile as a grim air claimed his lips again, “They have to be here somewhere.” John bit at his lip as he turned his gaze from her, his earlier thoughts derailed when a familiar tremor echoed beneath his boots and ignited the familiar unease within the pit of his gut. “We need to move NOW.”
(OOC: Continued in the east wing thread. )
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