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| Cataclysm; Apocalypse is closer than you think. | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: October 18, 2010, 7:26 am (249 Views) | |
| Soulgasmic | October 18, 2010, 7:26 am Post #1 |
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Devotee
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![]() Let me paint you a picture, something that might be familiar to you if you are the gambling or partying type. Or if you’ve ever passed the age of 14, as it may be. This place isn’t somewhere you can just not hear about. It is a quintessential American thing, something that is deeply ingrained into the mind of most citizens and easily recognizable in any situation. ![]() Neon lights scintillate over cascading fountains, leaving nothing hidden and casting dappled shadows on the ground and faces of the surrounding people, these barely visible over the rest of the lights that surround the square. Every building is adorned, the luminescence piercing the night with a screeching cry of life, casting out all darkness and replacing it with a feeling of sleazy glamour. The city reeks of money and intoxication, many of its denizens under the influence of at least a single drug, and a handful of them on the verge of overdose. The sun slowly rises and the lights turn off, not daring to take on the great burning orb in a contest of brightness. The city becomes calmer, but still remains as extravagant as ever. The shows going on all around spill their noise into the streets, the music and shouting audible wherever you are. The sun’s rays are refracted off of the mirrors and windows of the monumental buildings and complexes and into the eyes of the people, the colours scattered and many. It is early morning in Las Vegas, and everything is about to change. The people approximately 110 miles away in the military base located in the small town of Inconnu, however, are completely unaware of this. All they know is that their normal test facility in Arizona is out of commission and they will have to be performing their tests here. General Xavier is the most aware of this, his appearance obviously anxious and worried. Secrecy is a word that is not in his vocabulary; rather, it is who he is. During his years in the military, he had seen countless things that he had been ordered to never repeat, and he continued to see more of this nearly every day. These days, however, as structured as the procedures could be, the higher-ups were what Xavier would have called “clusterfucking asscunts”. That isn’t to say he would not have pardoned his French, but the phrase was something he liked to associate with retarded bureaucrats that didn’t know how to get a job done. This was especially true when it was as important as what they were currently trying to accomplish. When dealing with technologies of these levels, you couldn’t screw around with missed schedules and faulty repair equipment. General Xavier tapped away at his laptop, inwardly indolent but outwardly stalwart and diligent. The windows of the armoured bus he now sat on were blacked out, but the landscape around them hardly provided a better view. Three jeeps surrounded them, one on each side and another behind them. Dust blasted behind the wheels, and if the marines driving the jeep behind the bus weren’t about to be killed, they would’ve undoubtedly complained about their conditions and suggested a new driving formation, but for now, they had to deal with wearing goggles and attempting to breathe through the dust and sand. Xavier completed his journal entry, closing the laptop and setting it aside. The bus was a stark grey and white, dull and mindless. It reminded him of many of the marines coming with them. The bus’s many seats were filled with them, few remaining quiet until the General shot an icy glare in their direction. He stood from up, looking at the rows and rows of green-uniformed meatheads that filled the seats. As he approached the front of the bus, which was sealed off by a thick steel wall, he acknowledged inwardly his disconfidence in this group. Things were very different from how they were when he was still at their rank. You could get away with much more, even with all of the new disciplines. He passed a thin white card over a black spot on the wall, and the steel wall revealed a small sliding door which promptly slid up and let him through, then back down and seamlessly melded with the wall as he walked in. Several heads turned to look at him, then back to their work. Most of them were bald, at least half of them bearded. The scientists in charge of the device. They peered over a small circular table, those not sitting hunched over awkwardly and looking at papers that the General didn’t ever hope to understand. It was not his business to understand these things, but simply to oversee that these people didn’t royally fuck up when they did what they needed to. The scientists were situated on his right, several engineers sitting idly on his left, waiting for their moment to shine at the site. The drivers were just ahead, the darkened windows somewhat lessening the burning desert sun. It was early in the morning, and the heat was just reaching the sand, the cold winds doing little to stop it. They rounded a small corner on the almost invisible road, and then began moving down into the small and unknown basin that held their site. --- The device itself was very innocuous, not something that would arouse suspicion in any possible passersby. It had a pyramid-shaped base constructed of titanium rods, the top rising up nearly 60 feet, the bottom about 25x25 feet square. At the top, a thick rod of some previously undiscovered metal, unnamable by almost any of the people present, held up a massive dish. The rod went up another thirty feet, the dish about the size of an SUV or two and viciously reflective. The experiment itself was very simple. They were to activate the dish and see how much control they would be given over the test chimp that had “volunteered” itself. It was currently caged and completely unworried, sitting at the top lip of the basin and rather close to the dish itself. Several handlers and observant scientists sat idly by, waiting for their signal. Within an hour, the experiment was ready. General Xavier was in an underground bunker with the rest of the main science team. Video feeds from all around the facility were present, as well as the main controls for the device. The scientists operating it were largely wordless, their eyes wide and breath short. The results of this experiment could hardly be predicted, and despite precise aiming and calibration, they didn’t quite know how they and the rest of the team both in and outside of the bunker would be affected by the stray waves. All of them wore protective suits of lead and of the same metal that held up the dish, but their effectiveness was unknown. There was little else to do but activate the machine. All of the preparations complete, six scientists simultaneously pulled the levers around the room, and the dish began turning. It has been said that the world would not die with a scream, but with a whimper. This phrase was completely true. After thirty seconds of turning, the monkey was killed. Within the next two minutes, so were the majority of the personnel outside. Those not killed were rendered comatose, and the handful still awake were clutching their heads and attempting to scream, but it seemed that nothing would come out. Those inside lasted slightly longer; the emergency lights went off and the bunker locked down, but in the next five minutes, all of them had succumbed. By this time, the monkey’s body had begun to glow a strange purplish red, but this was observed by no one. General Xavier was one of those left screaming silently on the ground. A low whine was the undertone to this event, overshadowing everything else and audible throughout the facility. --- About 200 miles away, in Las Vegas, the citizens noticed something very odd in the sky. It was a slow realization, but something there regardless. A small hole in the air seemed to have appeared. It was solid black, like an oval in shape no matter what angle it was viewed from. Not only that, but it was rapidly expanding. Within half an hour, the sky was almost blacked out. A state of panic came among those outside, and those inside and the majority of those already intoxicated didn’t really notice nor care. At the half-hour mark, an epic screech that is impossible to describe here wrenched out of the hole, and it began to pull the city up. This is rather difficult to explain; imagine something like a black hole, an earthquake, a tornado, and a volcano put together. The entire section of earth lifted into the air, breaking into several pieces and then crashing back down as the blackness shrunk away and slowly disappeared. The electricity all around the city went out, magma was being forced through the cracks in the ground, and in all essence, everything was destroyed. A select few people were not even remotely harmed by this, and in fact gained something, but were completely unaware of it. All they knew is that they were lucky to be alive, and needed to find out what happened. The rest were either dead, close to it, or wondering what exactly the kind of natural disaster could do this to their City of Sin. |
| thank you lord jesus for these two lesbians doin it | |
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| The Warlord | October 18, 2010, 9:45 pm Post #2 |
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Resident
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Wade Ackington was the self-proclaimed King of Las Vegas. He was the most glamorous, the most talented and one of the most active performers. There was no casino, no hotel that didn’t have the opportunity to tailor his every whim. He was as much loved as he was hated, and all he cared was to unleash the infinite love his soul generates across the entire globe. Young dashing handsome young men, old experimented and mature women, Ethnic or white; it didn’t matter to him. Everything and everyone would get to know the true KING of entertainment, but his goal was shattered and the harsh reality gave him a wake up call. He opened his eyes as he felt he was unable to move freely his body. He was being squeezed by flesh. “Luis, Trinnie, not so tight” He muttered as he failed to realize what was going on. His vision was blurred; a side-effect of the large quantity of alcohol he drank the previous night. He looked up and saw the darkened sky and that’s when it clicked and his eyes widened. “W-w-what?” He exclaimed in shock as he tried to stand up, but couldn’t, his arms were stuck together, and there was something wet on his leg. He looked around; he was partly buried in rubble, his head and upper part of his chest sticking out. He looked next to him and looked away immediately as the he shut his eyes. “No… “ He whimpered. Next to him was the dead soulless gaze of his favourite plaything: Trinnie Lang; a black haired teenager that had the gusto to infiltrate backstage for the opportunity to see him in person. How could he not invite such a strong willed, beautiful and loyal fan into his boudoir? It wasn’t long she became one of his many personal assistants, but now she laid there… dead… He looked to his other side to see rubble, but he could feel the familiar chest hair of Luis, his personal south American bodyguard. He was cold, and…wet... He only realized what horrors would await him beneath the rubble. To see them, or even picture them in such a state tightened a sick grip on his heart. He struggled as the tears swelled up in his eyes as he managed to free his arms from the rubble and safely slide his way out. He was lucky… His two lovers were squashed, but he was spared. He looked at his chest and his body. Apart from the dirt and some scratches he got off rather well… but what happened to his kingdom? He looked around after he stood himself up. His blond hair ruffled in the ominous wind, his perfectly chiselled chest peeking from his torn purple silk robe. The back that had his name written in gold lining was mostly scratched off and all that remained were a pair of silk boxers. He was in his bedroom enjoying the glow when things apparently went to hell. He stood there among the debris, in shock, frozen by the mass destruction wrapping around him. The ground was dangerous and a single step could permanently cut his foot. If only… he had a pair of shoes…. He closed his eyes. This had to be a dream. He wasn’t in this wasteland. He was in his bed with Luis, Trinnie and what was left of that bottle of champagne. He was enjoying the afterglow, and was having a champagne fuelled nightmare. He opened his eyes again, nothing had changed except… He was now wearing some very tight white pants with a black shirt strategically opened to reveal his chest and abs, and designer black Italian shoes. There was also a very glamorous and shiny fuchsia coloured jacket that had his entire name written in a shimmering material on his back. The robe he wore was worn over the new clothes. Wade was confused as he tried to remain calm and he removed his robe to better look at himself. It felt real under his finger tip, but just a while ago… just a while ago he could fear the wind brush against his skin, but now he had clothes. He had to find a mirror. He was convinced this was either a dream or a very elaborate imagination, or perhaps a semi-lucid dream. Everything felt so real, but where did the clothes come from? Why were they such a perfect sit? He clearly remembers being in broken down underwear and robe, but now he had fabulous, clean clothes while he could feel the dirt and his dirty hands. And that jacket shouldn’t even exist yet. |
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King of Wackatopia: "I'll guarantee your safety, give you meaning, give you knowledge and something to believe in for the low cost of your personal freedom." Fang: "Look at you, you're gorgeous, you're beautiful, and when i look into your beautiful eyes all I see is this magnificent elegant creature, full of grace, full of strength. You're mesmerizing. You're intoxicating. I want you near me. I want to indulge you." Ryan: "If my survival means the death of innocents, then so be it" Kyliden: "This one is strong. He's brave and takes what he needs. He's a better werewolf then i could ever wish to be." Diego: "I can't control what i feel, querida mia. This spark will become a big lively fire. It will consume me, it will consume you and everyone around us, and once nothing is left, new life will spring eternal." Wade: "She made me love her before she sired me. She wanted a companion, a friend, a lover to indulge her throughout the centuries. Her demise filled me with emptiness; she was to give me a purpose and now I'm alone." | |
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| Kitten | October 19, 2010, 1:20 am Post #3 |
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The Human Pet
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The night before had been a blast. Emi and her brother Tae had gone to see Wade Ackington live with the bride and groom to be last night, and boy was he awesome! Emi had even managed to get his autograph and souvenirs before they left. Emi had then gone home with the bride to prepare of the wedding the next day and Tae went out for some drinks with the groom. A bit of last minute groom’s party. Not that Tae really was much of a partier. Typically he would sit in a corner and drink until he was too drunk to stand and yet still managed to drive himself home. And that’s exactly what he’d managed to do. Only this time he’d found shelter in his car, rather than go upstairs to their shared room to sleep off the alcohol. That night Emi had dreamt so many odd dreams. Dreams of an odd fog spreading across her childhood town, then a dream of tornadoes and earthquakes twisted into one massive attack on that same town. Her dreams were terrifying, and when she woke up the next morning, head pounding and her body being shaken, Emi couldn’t help but flail her arms and legs, kicking something hard, and then something of flesh. Pausing in her flailing, Emi suddenly realized it was her brother standing above her, fear in his eyes, shaking her wildly. He was also screaming her name, but his voice was muted, the only reason she knew he was saying her name was because she could read his lips. Eyes widening, Emi screamed to see if she could hear her own voice, but nothing. Nothing but muffled noises deep in her brain. Pushing Tae away, Emi used her legs to scoot away from him, only to finally see past him and into the distance…the distance of all the rubble. Apparently her wall had been torn away, leaving a huge gaping hole in it’s place. Fear then over took her as she covered her ears, which seemed to have a warm liquid that oozed out. Through all the pain and the worry, her brain still picked up that the liquid could only be blood. It also seemed to be trailing down her face. Apparently something had hit her in the head. Shutting here eyes tight, Emi tried to block out all the pain, and all the fear that was welling up inside of her. Seeing Tae’s lips moving, but not hearing him…it was dreadful. Slowly, as Emi sat there with her hands over her ears, the sounds started coming back. At first the muffled noises turned into high pitched noises, then eventually she could hear everything just as it should be heard. Tears welled up in her eyes, and when she finally opened them again she could see Tae sitting there, eyes wide open with tears brimming his own. With a spur of the moment reaction, Emi pounced forward and wrapped her arms around her brother. When she heard him make a deep throaty noise she couldn’t help but allow the tears to flow down her face. Her head still pounded though, and her whole body was sore, as if she’d been pounded all night by some unknown being. “Wh-What happened?” The sound of her own voice, ringing slightly childish only made more tears stream down her face. Luckily her face was buried in her brother’s chest, with his arms wrapped around her. When Tae didn’t answer, Emilynn merely sat there, waiting for his reply. It must have been horrible. Finally he spoke, his voice vibrating against her ears since she was still sore, and her face was against his chest still. “I…I thought you were dead Em…” Emi then pulled away and looked at her brother. His eyes were red with fighting back tears, yet there were still wet streaks down his face from those tears he couldn’t stop. This was the first time she’d ever seen him cry. It was beautiful, yet sinful at the same time. Not even when they were younger, and he was being picked on for being different did he cry. “D-Don’t cry!” She said then buried her head into his chest again, this time squeezing around his waist to make sure he never left her again. He was really all she had left in this world, and vise versa. Just as she squeezed Tae, however, Emilynn heard him gasp a bit in pain. Instantly letting go, Emi realized his black shirt was wet. Wet with blood. Gasping, Emi pulled his shirt up to reveal his stomach and ribs. It was then that she saw a slight deformity in his ribs, as well as a large cut in his side. Eyes widening, Emi realized that despite his fear for her, he had also sustained some wounds through whatever had happened. “Tae! You’re ribs…they look broken!” Tae then tugged on his shirt, pulling it down. “I-It’s noting. Don’t worry” Tae then stood up and walked away a few paces. “NO! It’s not nothing!” jumping up from the bed, Emi instantly felt dizzy and collapsed to the ground, the world going black, but at least she could hear this time. Laying slumped over against the bed, Emi heard her brother gasp her name again, then rush over to her side. She could feel him lift her into the bed, then part her hair to the side. She could feel this, hear his breathing and the squeeking of the bed, yet her eyes were cemented shut. It was so…odd. “T-Tae…” was all she could mutter, before all her senses completely gave out on her and she fell completely unconscious (heh...it feels like one of those sort of "My life is horrible...*emo tear* but...i figured what the hay! I might as well milk this for all i've got since their world pretty much was just destroyed! heh...) |
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| Ceasing End | October 19, 2010, 6:50 pm Post #4 |
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Member
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It had been a long, hard day. Her current bounty, worth seven grand in cash, had been her trickiest yet; he was one of the cleverer ones, though that hadn't stopped him from being caught in the first place. He knew how to erase his tracks - namely, kill the people who knew who he was - and, while that was useful for making his bounty even greater when she caught him (which she would eventually do) it made him a pain to get ahold of. She'd spent the day tracing his mobile phone, going into phone shops and asking around about him. Somebody would recognise the name, she'd thought, and while she was right, she was also exasperated when they refused to give her his details - customer privacy, or something like that. Even when she'd flashed her badge at them - makeshift, of course, but useful nonetheless - they merely apologised and said they couldn't help. Back to square one, Tiegra had tried another approach; asking around. She knew who his family were (those whom he had not set out of the way) and she'd tried milking them for information, too. Unluckily, they had pretty much the same attitude as the phone shops, though with more profanity, and she had left before she caused too much trouble. Her main problem was that he had several places over the city, and many of them she didn't know about. She'd broken into one of his apartment flats, but there had been little there that she could use, and because of this, she'd noted down the telephone number and left a note of his court absence on his bathroom door. There was no other information she could have used there, so she'd left it at that and had returned to HQ, hoping to find somebody who could find somebody to record the phone conversations for that number. With all that done, she had returned home at seven, ate the cold dinner her fiancé had cooked at five, and got into bed. There was just no energy for sex at this point in the week. --- When Tiegra awoke, she felt at first as if nothing had changed. Her head ached, her throat was dry, and her eyes sore, but that was just general tiredness, and lack of sleep from her work made her that way. Her partner, with his rough-shaven cheeks and usual frown, was still sleeping beside her, his tangled hair strewn around his chiselled features. For a moment, Tiegra was tempted to reach out and tug at it, to spite him for the night before last, but kept her hand to herself. The bruise was still sore. The sheets were folded neatly around her, a ghostly pale shroud in the early morning light, and she relished the warmth they offered before turning around and planting a soft kiss upon her fiancé's forehead. Then she pivoted again, and pulled herself out of the bed and into the cold, cold room. Eek! It seemed that she'd forgotten how cold their room could get without the heating on - and this became even worse when she dropped her feet onto the cold tile floor. They couldn't afford carpets yet, unfortunately, and the busty, black-haired woman withheld an exclamation which would have told the rest of the block just exactly how cold that floor was. Scampering over the cold tiles with goosebumps creeping over her skin, she made it into their bathroom - which, thankfully, had laminated wood for flooring (whoever had designed this apartment was definitely in for a meeting with lawyers...). The shower was inviting, even though it was probably colder than the bedroom, and with this in mind she stripped off the remainder of her clothes, squealing as the cold air bit her sensitive skin, and then made to get into the shower. This plan was foiled the instant she glanced out of the window. The sky - the sky was jet black. Blacker than night ever was, even in the darkest winters. Fear, something she had not truly known till now, gripped at her heart. It seemed like a void was opening up in the sky, ripping open the ozone and sucking everyone into it like a giant vaccuum cleaner. Everyone? No, not everyone, that was right. She was here now; her fiancé was here now. They weren't dead, despite the trouble which was beginning, despite the pain now wreaking havoc in her head. It was - It was agony. Pure and utter agony, the worst she'd ever felt, worse than Mike's beatings, or being fired, or that time two months back when she got shot in the shoulder. Black shapes flitted across her line of sight; when she moved her eyes to see them better, though, they moved too. Shadows were dancing on her skin, causing needles of white-hot pain to puncture her skin and worm downwards into her bones. Her body writhed with the pain, that black-white-red-yellow spectrum of torture she'd never encountered, and inside she could feel herself changing. To what? Her heart - it was gripped in an iron fist - painfully clenching; was that right? Her stomach: nauseous, ill, wanted to throw up. Her eyes - blind, wanted to see. Her head, splitting, wanted to die. It seemed like forever had come and passed before Tiegra could bring herself to stand. Pearly tears trickled down her cheeks, down her bare throat, over her soft breasts, then thudded onto the floor. She had to see whether he was okay. The coldness of the floor did nothing to her; the magnetic pull of his sleeping form in the bed numbed her naked body to the chill. She could not let her heart slow its trembling beats until she knew he was safe; a quick check of his vital signs told her this was so. He stirred beneath her cold hands; turning over, he looked surprised to see her sat there unclothed, looking so serious. Before he could speak, however, the wall looking out over the city exploded. Like in a movie, the debris moved oh-so-slowly. Tiegra found herself wishing it would hurry up, as she flung herself over her lover in a feeble attempt to save him, feeling his arms lock around her waist despite his sleepiness. One chunk of concrete hurtled towards them, but his quick thinking - which she'd never known him to have - had them roll off the bed and onto the floor. The danger now unable to strike them, the strips of metal and shards of glass flew overhead, and, when it was all over, she offered a soft smile to him. The strangest thing was that he was asleep; with a gentle chuckle, she reached over to kiss his forehead. Was it coincidence her lips had found his third eye? The intake of energy took her completely by surprise - though it was an intense experience. Memories which that life force had sustained now fled into her - his rough childhood, his first kiss, their first kiss, prom, prom night, moving in together, his hands in her hair, hitting her... At first, she thought this must have been a hallucination, but she found that she could not pull her mouth away from him. Still she drew his energy out. Still she drank it up, discovering a thirst for it she'd never known before. It was five minutes before she could let go of his corpse, and when she had finished, she sat by his dead body. Her milky-pale skin was illuminated by the cold lights of the city - or what was left of it, and she looked up. Her ice-green eyes were blank, hollowed out. As a robot, she stood up. Like an automaton, she got into the shower, despite the wall being blown away in there, too, and washed off yesterday's dirt. The coldness of the water did nothing to her. As an adventurer, she packed the things she would need alone, dressed herself, and left the lopsided apartment. As a woman, she cried the entire way down the broken staircases, and never ceased as she stepped out onto the cracked walkways. (Heheh, sorry for the length. Got a tad carried away ;P) |
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My pen has scribed words you cannot imagine; My fingers stained black with ink. Try as you may You never can tame A girl with words in her soul. | |
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| OBI | November 6, 2010, 10:48 am Post #5 |
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Constantine Carson (CC) At first he thought he had just been knocked out. The last thing he could remember before waking up on the concrete floor was fighting some big black brute looking to make some quick cash, and it certainly felt familiar. Aches and pains all over his body? Check. Blurry vision? Check. But something wasn`t right. The crowd was silent. In fact, the entire warehouse used to host these fight nights was deathly silent. CC strained his ears, hoping that bastard hadn`t somehow beat him deaf. And then he smelt it. Smoke. What the hell was going on? He tried shaking his head to clear his vision, only to stop mid-shake when his head felt like it was still being beaten up, from the inside. Great, a small concussion on top of what feels like a couple of bruised ribs and a well tenderised abdomen. He tried standing up, but fell to a knee when waves of nausea rolled over him. Ok, maybe not a small concussion. As he slowly got to his feet his vision was finally clearing up, allthough at a glacial speed. And much to his relief, his hearing was in fact coming back aswell, allthough the only thing he could hear was the faint crackling of a fire nearby, and his own labored breathing. When things finally started to come into focus, he scanned his surroundings. What the hell happened here? What used to be the roof was lying around him, iron beams and sheets of aluminium bent and crumpled as if a giant child had a tantrum and did his best to wreck it in the usual "if i can`t have it, noone can" attitude. The only support beam that was still intact was in fact the one directly above him, allthough it looked a lot less stable than he would have liked. "I need to get out of here" he thought to himself, as he started walking towards what used to be a wall on the other side of the room, but now was nothing but bits of concrete and rubble. A fire was burning in the far corner, probably some kind of fuel or accelerant. CC had no idea what they stored in this warehouse. For him it was just a place to go if you needed money and didnt mind getting a little hurt. As he slipped on something and almost fell, he looked down and noticed for the first time that the floor was covered in a dark red substance. One that belongs inside of a human being, not on the concrete floor of a warehouse in downtown Vegas. CC had seen blood on this floor before, and quite often his own, but what made this a gruesome sight was the quantity of it. Gallons of blood was spilled over the floor, seeping out from under the rubble. And when he noticed what looked like a leg sticking out from under one of the support beams, the nausea rolled over him again like a tidal wave, and he could taste bile in the back of his throat. As he started to wade through the bits of rubble, and as much as he tried to ignore them, the bits of people scattered among the metal and concrete, the faint smell of flesh and the much stronger smell of torn bowels grew stronger, and proved to be too much for him. After he had made aquaintances with that days dinner for the second time, he managed to make his way to the giant hole that was a solid concrete wall not ten minutes ago. What the hell caused all of this? Earthquake? Terrorists? As he climbed out through the hole though, any additional speculations he was about to make was stopped in their tracks as he saw the scope of the disaster, and what had happened to the city he had called home for the last 16 years. Edited by OBI, January 8, 2011, 7:27 am.
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| Wicked | November 20, 2010, 12:31 am Post #6 |
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The Derp Queen
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"Boys, boys, boys, I'd like to get some sleep," Emily complained from behind the blackjack table. She ran a hand through her wild and frazzled hair as the two men who'd been battling each other from dusk to dawn contemplated yet another game. That was the problem with some rich gamblers- they never got broke, at least not enough to stop shoving chips at her. One of them laughed and shook his head, putting down yet another stack of lovely chips onto her table. God, she could have socked him. "Babe, we all know your bed wasn't intended to be slept in," he snickered, winking in her direction. Emily's grin was strained, hiding the fact that if he was ever getting anywhere near her bed it was so she could suffocate him with her pillows. Luckily for them both, the other guy drew back from the table with a look of defeat. Apparently, he'd cut his losses. Emily sighed, glad that someone had some sense about him. And just like that, all hell broke loose in the casino. "Damn it, am I the only sane person here?" She cried, waving her hands in the air, visions of her comfortable bed dancing in her head. She was exhausted and just wanted to go home but good heavens, no. The one day she wanted a break, people wanted to party and act nuts 'til the break of dawn. Little did she know that the screaming and flailing that occurred at the main entrance, which spread throughout the rest of the drunken casino, had a reasonable cause. She stacked her cards and walked away from the table, no longer caring what the drunk pervert was suggesting about her bed, and shoved her way through the crowd of panicking old ladies, show girls, honeymooners, and drunks, in order to get a better view of the cause for such chaos. "What on earth-" Emily started to complain, squinting at the sky outside through the glass doors of her working place. Why the hell was it black? Emily tried to make sense of it but the world had other plans. Suddenly, the casino seemed to rupture and Emily lost her footing, the heels she was forced to wear day in and out finally snapping under the pressure. Emily stumbled, hit her head on a table, and like a light she went out. **** Silence hovered over her like a blanket, comforting yet suffocating as she came to. There was a jackhammer on her head, pounding away like a madman in the spot where she'd received a blow from a stupid table. Slowly, as she would during a hangover, Emily rose with the help of her arm. Opening her eyes turned out to be a bad idea and Emily shoved them right back into the darkness, just to keep them oblivious from the sight that surrounded her. Sense told her that she had to face the music and again, she opened her eyes in hopes that maybe, just maybe, it was all a hallucination from the head trauma. "Shit," Emily exploded, unable to keep back her hysterics as she looked from the drunkard who'd been bashing her the entire night to her boss, laying limp and drowning in their own blood. She gripped at her face and grit her teeth as she felt the panic rise. Emily lurched from the bodies, only to be pulled back down by one of the supporting beams that had been a part of the ceiling. The entire building was turning to rubble before her eyes, with chunks of the walls and ceiling still slowly cracking and falling down around her. The sight made a foul substance rise in her throat. Jesus, she was going to throw up if she didn't get out fast enough. With more urgency than she'd ever had before, Emily pushed at the beam with her freed arms and her torso. It was completely useless because, let's face it, she was skin and bones. Sure, she had a few muscles here and there from being around boys when she was younger but genetically, she was not designed to toss support beams around. Streams of curses came from her lips until finally, as if by miracle, the beam was flung aside. Hurriedly, Emily sprung up, her legs shaking from shock, fatigue, and who knew what else. She rubbed at her arms and legs, feeling for any cuts, bruises, or broken things but the only wound she knew of was the one on her forehead. It wasn't too bad, bleeding, but not too bad except for the pounding headache it gave as a bonus. Now free, Emily hobbled in her broken heels over the rubble and tried to find any signs of life among the devastation. She wasn't very hopeful but just when she was about to give up, Emily heard a quiet moan from beneath one of the slot machines. Emily rushed, carefully hopping over concrete and metal, to get to the person and found a middle-aged woman. It was as if she was a floating head, only a little bit of torso showing from under the machine. She was conscious and blinking her eyes slowly, trying to process what had just happened as Emily had. Emily felt pity wash over her. This woman wasn't going to make it. She was being crushed every second by that heavy clunk of metal and nothing Emily could do would fix it but she was going to at least try to comfort the woman. Emily bent down and looked over the woman, who was eying her with panic now. "Help me," she begged, her voice ragged. Almost as soon as she'd opened her mouth, the woman coughed up blood. "I can't, I'm so sorry," Emily replied, torn. It was horrible as she watched the lady begin to fade, she was fading more and more with each second. It was actually happening at a rapid and horrible pace. The woman began to cough even more violently, as if set off by Emily's comment. She hacked and hacked, blood running onto her cheeks and neck. Emily, scared and disgusted, tried to soothe the woman by rubbing her exposed shoulder but the moment that Emily's skin made contact with the woman's body, it was like a flare went off in Emily's mind. A rush of data came before her eyes like a stream of photos. It was a video on fast forward and it was overheating her mind. Shocked, Emily immediately snapped back from the woman and like that, she was dead. Emily sat there, staring at the dead woman whose life story still played over and over in her head like a scratched record. Over and over, faces of loved ones she would never see again. "Shit". |
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| OBI | December 9, 2010, 3:45 pm Post #7 |
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Fear was not a feeling CC was used to. But there it was, undeniable, like a stone in his gut. He was terrified. As he gazed over the landscape, his eyes caught sight of some of the monuments he had grown to cherish over the years: The Eiffel Tower of Paris Las Vegas, one of his favorite casinos, and the Luxor Pyramid; both reduced to rubble. What on earth could have caused this much destruction? He started to make his way towards the strip, climbing over rubble and trying his best not to let his mind wander towards the questions that were bubbling under the surface: How many people had died? Was the rest of the world like this? Had his friends survived? As he did his best to clear his mind of the disturbing questions, he heard a sound that did the job for him: someone screaming for help. He ran towards the sound, coming from somewhere around the corner. As he turned it, he saw a young man lying under a large concrete block. The block was propped against a wall, but had trapped him under it. As he ran up to him, he noticed how white he was, and noticed a slight trickle of red seeping out from the other side of the block. "Help m-me" he said, shivering ever so slightly. "Its ok, im gonna get you outta here, just lie still, ok?". He grabbed a hold of the block and tried heaving, but the second he tried to lift, he knew there was no way he was moving this block. But, CC had always been stubborn, so he prepared to lift one more time as the mans eyelids started to flutter. Just as he braced his legs to lift he heard the groan of metal on concrete, and looked up just in time to see an SUV tip over the edge of the parking house it had been standing on, and plummet towards the ground about ten feet away from them. And then the strangest thing happened. As he was looking at the SUV fall, he started lifting the block without thinking about it, and ended up almost throwing the block off the man. This hardly even registered in CC´s brain though, as he was watching the SUV do something that he knew was impossible. It was slowing down. As it came close enough for CC to see his reflection in the hood of it, his fingers left the concrete block, and the car slammed into the ground, picking up speed on the little drop it had left. It happened in a matter of seconds, but in those seconds CC had lifted a ton worth of concrete like it was a marginally heavy TV he was helping a friend move, and seen a car slow down mid fall, only to speed up again and hit the earth. Nothing in his life could have prepared him for the puzzlement he felt at that moment. As he looked down at the man under him, he realized for the first time that the man had lost both his legs from the thighs down, and that his eyes had lost what little life they had when he found him. And although CC was sad for the man, his mind let him dwell on it for about two seconds before the image of a slow moving SUV hit him like a, well, SUV. When he walked onto the Las Vegas Strip five minutes later his mind was still in standstill. How was that possible? And as he convinced himself that he had simply gone crazy from whatever happened to his head during....whatever had happened here, he looked up and saw her walking out of a casino with the same look of confusion he was sure was pasted on his own. |
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| That Butler | July 18, 2011, 11:46 pm Post #8 |
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Bad Jew
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This roleplay is closed due to inactivity or by request of the Game Master. Please contact one of the Roleplaying Moderators to have it reinstated.
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