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Deliver Us
Topic Started: Mar 25 2014, 10:20 PM (1,751 Views)
Sinnesloschen
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Regular
[ *  *  * ]
The goth girl was pretty creepy. A minute after the announcement and she showed up out of nowhere all smiley and helpful. Then Soren spoke up. It was Jewel. His friend's killer was right in front of him.

Brendan figured he'd be angry when he met her, but really, he was just scared. Jewel has some gun-thing, and all Brendan had was a useless wire that was in his bag, and the other guys' weapons wouldn't work too well against a gun either. Trying to reason with a crazy two-time murderer didn't seem like a great idea. He had to find some way to stop her or distract her or something.

Brendan had never been too great at thinking under pressure. He ended up doing the first thing that came to his mind. He took his bag and chucked it at Jewel.
PV3 Prologue
PV3
TV2

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Skraal
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Are you my mummy?
[ *  * ]
Soren jumped back as a bag flew past him. A sudden wave of regret for his hastiness swept over him as the fight began. In retrospect, it was foolish of him not to expect violence to break out when he revealed Jewel's identity. What was he supposed to have done? He wanted to vomit. Every choice that he could have made was a bad one.

Still, two wrongs didn't make a right. Just because Jewel had killed people, it didn't mean that it was right to let her get killed in return. It was God's role to act as judge, and nobody else's. Though Soren didn't regret his decision to tell the truth, he felt that it was his responsibility to try to calm down the conflict that he had started.

Soren put his bag and gun down and walked between Jewel and the other two boys. His heart was pounding so fast that he felt as if it was going to explode. His next words came haltingly to his mouth, not at all helped by the nervous quivering in his voice.

"L-let's calm down here, everyone. There's no need for more death. Surely we can work this out without violence."
Characters

The Program V2

SOTF-TV 2

Second Chances 2
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MurderWeasel
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I can trick them into thinking anything
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
There was this strange convergence of factors that led to what happened next:

First there was Jewel's mentor giving her advice to which she would have listened more closely had it not paired with an insult. Four people was no triangle, and Jewel was best armed; also, she was still relatively close to the entrance and thus could bail.

Then with the most perfect rebuttal she could have imagined, Søren blew her cover. When Jewel insulted people, which was rare to their faces and somewhat more common behind their backs, this was the gold standard she aspired to. What made it so beautiful was that she'd done all the work for him, had dug her own grave and laid down in it and pulled most of the dirt back in on top of herself and Søren was left to just etch the stone, leaving her slathered in her own venom by denying the single least damning part of her lie: "You're not a cheerleader."

Meanwhile, really casually, one of the big guys slipped off the counter and down behind it, maybe going for an unseen weapon though Jewel doubted this was the case because he had that pitchfork or whatever already and if he had a better weapon there was absolutely nothing he gained at this stage of the game by hiding it except maybe with the viewers, and diving for cover or for an ace in the hole at the first sign of trouble wasn't very effective pandering.

And the other boy hurled his backpack at her while she was distracted with these things. It caught her in the chest but it was only a somewhat-heavy backpack, and she stumbled backwards but she did not fall and she did not lose her grip on the gun even if it went off-center for a moment. The throw was a reminder and a warning and an attack, and it told her that this guy was pretty strong and could cause trouble if he wasn't tossing something so unwieldy at such a distance.

Finally, Søren stepped in and spoke. Earlier Jewel had felt a burst of sudden and unexpected admiration and maybe even envy when he'd cut her down in such a quick and cruel way, but now he was trying to backpedal and preach peace and love and all that charisma and spark he'd harnessed for a moment scattered and blew away and was replaced with the same plea Jewel had heard a hundred times and more from her TV while sitting on the couch: "Surely we can work this out without violence." That was nice and sweet and boring and useless and exactly what Jewel had expected from Søren when she'd seen him, not a surprise at all.

So all these things left her off balance and her head in a whirl, screeching in her ears from all directions except there wasn't really, and there was this opportunity staring her in the face, Søren interceding between her and these other two stranger boys, offering to calm stuff down even though she'd killed two people. It wasn't like it meant a lot; they were probably not people to him because he'd never met them and now never would, and she smirked at that little hypocrisy she'd just invented for him—how he'd step into danger for her but probably wouldn't even think of the other two—even as she realized that she did know him, she had gone to school with him and this was different, really different, like maybe he had a sibling in class with Chloe or was a friend of a friend of Coleen's, and maybe he'd seen her drawings hanging up in the library that one time, and it wasn't like she could just walk away from this one and pretend it wouldn't mean anything to anyone.

But if she'd been sitting there at home, if she really stepped outside herself—and that was easy to do with the noise in her head and around her and these different complicated things happening too fast for her to even really track and process—if she'd been following this boy and rooting for him, then this was the most perfect ending she could imagine for him, this scared little Christian kid looks death in the face and spits and then steps up to bat for a killer just because it's the right thing to do. It was quick and perfect and beautiful and nothing he could say or do could ever hope to top it, so really Jewel was doing him a favor when she steadied the gun and when she said "I agree, we could do that," and when she felt the bandage between palm and pistol and when she pointed the gun straight at him and when she pulled the trigger, fully aware of what it meant.
Current characters:

The Program: V3 Prologue:
Mina Mashall - Digital Voice Recorder - Making a good impression - "I didn't know you felt so strongly about me."
Erik Bell - Jericho .941 - Having lunch - "May I?"

SECOND CHANCES: V2:
Assorted flora and fauna

SOTF-TV V2:
EW4: Jewel Evans - Chatterbox Communicator Headsets (0/5) - Online - ELIMINATED - "Scars are just reminders to be better next time."

Past characters:

If you want an honest assessment of your character's storyline, feel free to PM me and I'll whip one up as soon as I am able.

Thanks to Bear/Frogue/Kotorikun/Ryuki for the avatar art.
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Skraal
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Are you my mummy?
[ *  * ]
Søren felt a sharp pain in the back of his head as he finished speaking. A short choking sound left his throat before he slumped to the ground.

Maybe jumping between two armed combatants wasn't so great of an idea.

His vision blurred as the world faded to white.

TB4: Søren Rosendahl - DECEASED
Characters

The Program V2

SOTF-TV 2

Second Chances 2
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Namira
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Paint me like one of your Sith girls
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Grabbing a shoe had seemed, in retrospect, a smarter idea than it probably was.

Fortunately, Amir was saved in his own mental thought-rankings of not-especially-smart ideas by the fact that Brendan stepped right on up and lobbed his bag straight at the girl that'd just been confirmed killer.

Amir's mouth twitched into something that faintly resembled a smile, opened to talk, and then Søren decided that it was not enough to have had two stupid things happen, he just had to take the absolute cake by stepping out into the open and play peacemaker. Between jock mcmuscles and girl-with-gun-who-was-definitely-killer.

"Oh you absolute-"

Blam. Søren pitched forward, a gout of blood bursting out of the front of his head. He went to the ground with a dull wet thunk and didn't move.

Cause he'd just got shot in the head.

Holy fuck.

"Well this has been fun and all but-WHAT IN THE HELL IS THAT!?"

Amir pointed behind Jewel.

He also flung the bowling shoe overhand and ran right the diddly-fuck in the other direction before waiting to see if it connected.

((Amir continued in It All Happened So Slowly))
~*~

Currently Showing

Previously on Namiravision
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Sinnesloschen
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Regular
[ *  *  * ]
Damn. Brendan had hoped that the bag would throw Jewel off balance or make her drop her gun. Something to give him an opening. No such luck.

Then Soren stood between them and starting babbling something about nonviolence. What the hell? Brendan wasn't a fan of violence, but when he was face-to-face with a murderer he sure as hell wasn't going to be peaceful. Also, why was Soren turning his back on-

There was a loud bang. Blood burst from Soren's face. He crumpled to the floor.

Brendan looked down. His shirt was stained red. Soren was laying on the ground, a pool of blood forming around his head. He wiped his face with his hand. Red. His ears were ringing.

"W-wha..."

He jerked his head up in time to see a shoe flying through the air.
PV3 Prologue
PV3
TV2

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MurderWeasel
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I can trick them into thinking anything
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Like a countdown, four three two.

In time with the bullet that spread Søren across the floor, the pounding was blown out of Jewel's head, and a louder, more real noise took its place. Her gun was old and kicked hard, nearly escaping her grasp, and it coughed a cloud of smoke as well. That was the end of Søren, leaving three.

Jewel was then hit square in the face, by a shoe, thrown by the boy behind the counter. Though she saw his lips move, she did not hear what he said, but when he pointed she took a second to glace over her shoulder, aware that he could be bluffing and aware that he could not, and he was and so a shoe hit her in the face and if he'd had a gun in reserve that would have been it, the end, her skull shattered and her brain splattered, painting the wall behind her, but because it was just a shoe she instead merely jolted and tensed and squeezed her finger very hard around the trigger with no result. Her palm was hurting again, a sharp stinging pain from the cuts, and she did not follow the boy's flight, leaving two.

The remainder was the one who had asked who she was, and Jewel wondered if she was looking into the face of her own personal Jhamel Thompson as she backed up one or two or three steps, not bothering to stoop for the bags she didn't need. He was big and bulky in that athlete way, had a bit of a beard and short hair, and he wasn't her style but with a bit of work maybe he could have been.

"It's true," she said, very loudly and slowly and she couldn't hear herself well because of the ringing echo and maybe he couldn't hear her well either but millions of other ears would catch her words with perfect clarity. "I'm Jewel.

"It's nice to meet you," she said.

"Next time I see you, I'll kill you too."

She winked at him. He would chase after her and hunt her and force her to keep on her toes, and they'd finish their business in a day or two or three, or maybe he'd be overtaken by fear and she'd catch him out hiding instead, or perhaps he would fall prey to one of the others here or she would and they'd never see each other again, but because she had made him this promise they had a connection now. She did not know his name and it was not an appropriate moment to ask.

Her ringing ears made it harder for her to focus on her movement as she backed up, keeping the gun in front of her to ward him off. It was heavy and solid and the most real thing in this room, and it didn't matter if she'd only managed what she had because she could have taken two steps and then tapped the body at her feet on the shoulder. She was still near the door and slipped back through it, leaving the boy alone.

The cold air nipped at her legs and neck and back, and she turned and ran.

((Jewel Evans continued in Don't You?))
Current characters:

The Program: V3 Prologue:
Mina Mashall - Digital Voice Recorder - Making a good impression - "I didn't know you felt so strongly about me."
Erik Bell - Jericho .941 - Having lunch - "May I?"

SECOND CHANCES: V2:
Assorted flora and fauna

SOTF-TV V2:
EW4: Jewel Evans - Chatterbox Communicator Headsets (0/5) - Online - ELIMINATED - "Scars are just reminders to be better next time."

Past characters:

If you want an honest assessment of your character's storyline, feel free to PM me and I'll whip one up as soon as I am able.

Thanks to Bear/Frogue/Kotorikun/Ryuki for the avatar art.
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Sinnesloschen
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Regular
[ *  *  * ]
The only words that Brendan could make out over the ringing were "I'll kill you".

With that, Jewel winked and ran off. She could have just shot him if she wanted. She wasn't taking him seriously. She wasn't taking any of this seriously.

Brendan ran to the bathroom and threw up in the sink. He washed the blood off of his face and arms in the sink. His orange shirt was stained red, and it had bled through to his black shirt underneath. He left the shirts in the sink. When Brendan went back to the lobby and put on a Pringles shirt from his bag.

Soren's bag and gun were placed neatly a few feet away from his body. As much as Brendan didn't like looting a dead guy's stuff, he really needed any advantage he could get. He took Soren's food, first aid kit, and of course, his weapon and its manual. According to the manual, the gun was supposed to be used to stun cattle before slaughtering them. It could kill someone if he used it on them. Brendan still wasn't planning on killing anyone, but it was good to have a way to defend himself.

Brendan's bag was heavier, but he could still carry it easily. He felt guilty about leaving Soren on the lobby floor, but what else was he supposed to do? He thought of burying him, but he had used up too much time already. He had to find whatever friends he had left before someone like Jewel found them.

((Brendan O'Toole continued in The Reviews Are In, and It Does Not Look Good At All))
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TV2

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