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05-16-2007 7:50 PMEnclave Agent is offline Send an Email to Enclave Agent Search for Posts by Enclave Agent Post Reply with Quote Edit/Delete Post       Go to the top of this page

Oh yeah well I'm AWARE of stuff relating to those things.

__________________
JE SUIS CHARLIE


These are not fairy tales, or myths. This place of power is tangible, and as such, can be found, entered, and perhaps, utilized in some fashion..

Quote by Nina Fortner (regarding faking one's death):
Been there done that. No one would believe it this time.

Quote by Alizarin:
holy fuck i am ready to burn it all down. all of it.

05-16-2007 8:01 PMStruggler is offline Send an Email to Struggler Search for Posts by Struggler Post Reply with Quote Edit/Delete Post       Go to the top of this page

Well you're in the know about stuff and things, Sharpie.

__________________
GUL DUKAT DID NOTHING WRONG.

Sharp: "It suggests to me he's not a political guy, something is going on" well then you're an idiot wolf blitzer

05-16-2007 9:04 PMAlabastard is offline Send an Email to Alabastard Search for Posts by Alabastard Post Reply with Quote Edit/Delete Post       Go to the top of this page

Things and stuff are good to know.
05-16-2007 9:35 PMStruggler is offline Send an Email to Struggler Search for Posts by Struggler Post Reply with Quote Edit/Delete Post       Go to the top of this page

I know more about stuff than things.

__________________
GUL DUKAT DID NOTHING WRONG.

Sharp: "It suggests to me he's not a political guy, something is going on" well then you're an idiot wolf blitzer

05-16-2007 9:42 PMAlabastard is offline Send an Email to Alabastard Search for Posts by Alabastard Post Reply with Quote Edit/Delete Post       Go to the top of this page

That'd require a disproportionate amount of stuff.
05-16-2007 9:48 PMStruggler is offline Send an Email to Struggler Search for Posts by Struggler Post Reply with Quote Edit/Delete Post       Go to the top of this page

Disproportionate stuff is adequate since stuff usually DOES outweigh things.

__________________
GUL DUKAT DID NOTHING WRONG.

Sharp: "It suggests to me he's not a political guy, something is going on" well then you're an idiot wolf blitzer

05-17-2007 12:41 AMSZO is offline Send an Email to SZO Homepage of SZO Search for Posts by SZO Post Reply with Quote Edit/Delete Post       Go to the top of this page

I know more stuff than things.
05-17-2007 4:11 AMStruggler is offline Send an Email to Struggler Search for Posts by Struggler Post Reply with Quote Edit/Delete Post       Go to the top of this page

Exactly, stuff mostly outweighs things.

__________________
GUL DUKAT DID NOTHING WRONG.

Sharp: "It suggests to me he's not a political guy, something is going on" well then you're an idiot wolf blitzer

05-17-2007 9:45 AMDiglett is offline Send an Email to Diglett Search for Posts by Diglett Post Reply with Quote Edit/Delete Post       Go to the top of this page

I perfer stuff over things.
05-17-2007 4:53 PMStruggler is offline Send an Email to Struggler Search for Posts by Struggler Post Reply with Quote Edit/Delete Post       Go to the top of this page

I also prefer stuff over things.

__________________
GUL DUKAT DID NOTHING WRONG.

Sharp: "It suggests to me he's not a political guy, something is going on" well then you're an idiot wolf blitzer

05-17-2007 9:00 PMAlabastard is offline Send an Email to Alabastard Search for Posts by Alabastard Post Reply with Quote Edit/Delete Post       Go to the top of this page

Mm. Stuff.

I need more of it.
05-21-2007 1:11 AMStruggler is offline Send an Email to Struggler Search for Posts by Struggler Post Reply with Quote Edit/Delete Post       Go to the top of this page

I'll give you some.

__________________
GUL DUKAT DID NOTHING WRONG.

Sharp: "It suggests to me he's not a political guy, something is going on" well then you're an idiot wolf blitzer

06-01-2007 3:46 AMEdger is offline Send an Email to Edger Search for Posts by Edger Post Reply with Quote Edit/Delete Post       Go to the top of this page

I've got a lot of stuff, but not much of it.

__________________
Quote by Jack Crawford:
What the fuck? Ed looks less like a nerd than I do. What bullshit is that?

08-02-2007 10:06 PMDiglett is offline Send an Email to Diglett Search for Posts by Diglett Post Reply with Quote Edit/Delete Post       Go to the top of this page

I call this one my B-Movie. Why? The plot isn't exactly solid, character interaction isn't THAT great. And it's really only used to portray more ways for me to practice describing violence. But I figured what the hell. If someone wants to read more of it I'll stick the rest of it up..I have like 3 and a half chapters of it moving forward. I just call it John, from the character.
---

Bullets spat out in more directions than he could actually see, chunks of marble ripped from the surprisingly sturdy pillar that served as his makeshift cover. God, these guys were horrible shots. He thought with some mild annoyance as the buzz of gunshots started to pulsate through his head, the thick chunks of marble booming loudly on the hard floor of the corporation building.

Behind him, SWAT and Police Corpses. Bullet cases and empty magazines. He was amazed he actually made it here before they started to rip and tear at his cover, his trenchcoat had taken a shot or two but the titanium plates had prevented him from getting any dangerous hits. He shoved another magazine into his gunmetal black 1911A1 and the seven inch barrel snapped forward with a flip of his thumb, chambering a round. The firing had stopped momentarily and somebody was cursing orders left and right, the thunderclap of bootsteps meant that they were certainly moving to his location. Well then, time to be a little bit rambo and a little bit stupid, he withdrew his second 1911A1 from his heavy coat and grinned a the familiar weight in his hands; his head peered out behind his cover just a little bit before a bullet whipped past his cheek and smacked into the floor below him. Not anywhere near as many people, which means they'll probably be heading down here soon.

He cracked his neck with a sharp sigh before focusing on the pillar in front of him. They were his lifeline in a outnumbered situation and he hoped he could make it in time. He heard the distinctive dropping of a magazine and he figured it would be his best chance and sprinted across the wide pockmarked hallway, gunfire nipped as his boot heels as he turned; the glowing front beads of his forty-fives was all he saw besides the brilliant muzzle flash of their assault rifles and pulled the trigger twice in rapid succession with his right forty-five as he hit the ground in a small roll, a scream of pain and a clatter of a weapon meant he got a successful hit. Not bad, he figured. The thunderclap of bootsteps had finally returned to his ears and he noticed it was to the right of him where the emergency stair door rested. That wasn't good. That wasn't good at all. He fumbled through his coat quickly, ignoring the stack of magazines and handguns for the small number of hand grenades he kept for situations just as this.

Only one, that figured. He often forgot to bring his full stock of grenades with him because he usually never needed them. He shrugged and yanked it from it's spot in his coat as he holstered one of his handguns. His hearing focused on the clatter of enemy forces down the iron steps and gripped the frag grenade tighter, yanking the pin as the door was kicked open and he tossed it towards the first black uniformed man wielding a G36 Assault Rifle; smacking him in the face as he sprinted back to his original cover; spraying fire into the upper levels as he dived forward with a yell as the entire complex rumbled with a massive explosion, a mass of screams echoed out as shrapnel launched itself into the group of guards. many were killed as soon as the grenade was ignited and others died from the massive blast of heat. Chips of the wall had rippled out of the marble and left a sizable hole in the sturdy construction.

"God, this is the last time I do this shit.." He muttered, putting the last two forty-five rounds of his right 1911A1 into the skulls of two confused stumbling guards, their brains oozing out of their gaping wounds as they dropped. He brought his other forty-five to bear as the empty magazine clattered to the ground. Satisfied that he was for now at least, safe. He dug into his coat and shoved another magazine in, the slide clicking into place. He hated being paid by goverment officials, it had to top on his shittiest employer list. Not to mention when it involved important government figures. It was amusing; he had to admit when the head of the secret service was fuming over the concept of some hired gun rushing to rescue their protection. A member of the presidential family, or a former president. He wasn't really sure but he was getting a ton of money for it. The comm rested at his ear buzzed and he pressed his finger against it, sweeping the area with his free hand.

"John here." He said quietly, he wasn't sure where everybody was and he wasn't that brave to step out into what could still be a combat scenario.

"John, what the FUCK WAS THAT!?" He winced as the harpy like scream pierced his ear, closing his eyes tight and gnashing his teeth. Who would have thought a man could even do that.

"Last I checked, it was a explosion. Sir." He replied crisply, risking to peek himself out of his cover to find no bullets trying to plant themselves in his head. Satisfied, he took a cautious step out and walked over to the place of the explosion. Most of them were dead and their weapons were shattered or melted beyond use, that also figured.

"From what?"

"A grenade."

"..Never mind, are you near your target?" He muttered disdainfully and John had to bite back a smirk forming.

"Getting there, I'll call you when it's over." He said as he flicked his com off and sighed, rubbing his head before noticing a beaten up G-36 in the corner. He happily walked over and scooped it up, pulling the charging handle back to made sure it was functional. Functional enough anyway, after scooping himself some magazines. He headed up the steps where the uniformed men came, sweeping his stolen assault rifle through the second floor.

Mindless thugs, no doubt called to reinforce the real prize and wait for him there. That suited him just fine. The attack was pretty stupid for terrorists, it wasn't a bombing or a burglary; a kidnapping. Killing about half of the police force and SWAT teams that tried to storm the building. Most likely a inside job, but he wasn't paid to figure it out. Which was a good thing, he hadn't a clue what was really going on. Just as long as he got the money for it.

He decided against using the elevator, that would just make him dead before he knew what was happening. The briefing beforehand had told him that they were at the uppermost floors, the office blocks. Which meant some CQC gunplay, he needed the practice after all. It had been a while sense he had did something like this. He made his way carefully up the steps, his assault rifle sticking up in the air as he slowly circled and moved. Either they had far less numbers than expected or something was seriousky going on here, he had moved up about eight floors and he still had no signs of movement, gunfire-

That broke it, two floors above him. Gunfire was raging, screams were everywhere. He sprinted himself up the steps and slammed the door open with his shoulder, his eyes went wide in reflex as a man dropped in front of him. His MP5N fired wildly into the air as blood sprayed from his gaping neck before dropping into a twitching dead mass on the floor. There was that giggle, that lustful sadistic giggle that had haunted him for years. She was here, her.

Victoria. She was a blur at the moment, bullets deflected off of her and impacted the splintered cubicles and walls around them as one of the uniformed men fired vainly at her, hot brass spraying off the wall as he managed to duck the first swing of her curved knife only to be impaled by her second one. She was beautiful, it was amazing how beautiful she actually was. Her eyes had to be the brightest most bluest eyes he had ever seen, you could get lost in those eyes and that was a horrible mistake to do. Her hair was smooth and brown that cascaded perfectly down her figure. She was wearing a knife harness and a black minidress that was currently coated in blood.

It had to be one of the hottest things John had ever seen, his hand tightened around the assault rifle as she tossed the corpse aside and her brilliant eyes turned to face him. A grin peeling back on her bloodsoaked face.

"John, Love. I got so bored waiting for you that I had to amuse myself..I hope you don't mind.." she pouted, sliding those intimidating hooked blades at their hip scabbards before looking down at her tiny clothes.

"My dress is ruined too..I was hoping to look so nice for you!" she said with a sigh, crossing her arms elegantly over her chest. He swallowed his dry throat.

"You look fine, babe. I'm sort of in the middle of something though.." She scared the fuck out of him, it was true. Wherever she had learned to use those knives, any knife. She had learned some trick of deflecting bullets. John didn't know if it was some sort of sutble flick of the wrist moments before impact-which would be ridiculous considering it required superhuman reflexes and eyesight, but he wouldn't put it past her to be that psycho- or maybe she just had some sort of...he didn't really know. But he, a marksman of a thousand battles couldn't lay a hand on her, and that turned him on and freaked him out in more ways than one.

"Well that's why I'm here!" She said cheerfully, a smile pulling back on her face as she walked forward to hug him. Which caught him completely off guard and now had a giant bloody stain on him. Figures. He patted her back lightly before giving a light push to disengage her.

"Sorry, I can't do that right now..did you see any secret servicemen through here?" She pouted irritably but nodded, nudging her head up the stairs. "Yeah, two floors up..you can take the elevator, love. I cleared the way for you." John was guessing it was more she had a great desire to murder, but he gave her a kiss on the cheek, mindful of the blood on most of it, so it was more near her temple "Great! Couldn't have did it without you. How about after this we get some dinner or something?"

"I'll hold you to that, Johnathan Margrave." She said as she poked a finger at him accusingly. "Last time you bailed on me!" John gave her a nervous grin. "Uhm..well it's sort of hard to enjoy your company when gunrunners are trying to punch holes into me." She sniffed disdainfully but nodded.

"I suppose." She conceded like a child before John rubbed her silky brunette hair, he now wished to do that some more but that was for later. He decided. "I'll be back before you know it." He said as he pushed the button to the elevator nearby, the corpse laying against the doorway with a gaping mouth and terror stricken features thudded as the door slid open. He kicked the body aside and pushed the button for two floors up, Victoria gave him a wave as he disappeared from view and he sagged with a weary sigh. Every time he saw that hot, beautiful body he'd have to be reminded that she could butcher him like a pig if he did the slightest thing wrong. The fact that he's been alive for about four years sense he had seen her was a record for anybody who came across her. Maybe he did have some luck after all. He thought cheerfully as the door opened and was met with the muzzles of nine or so G36's.

..Figures.

He smacked himself against the side of the elevator as a volley of shots smacked heavily into the back of the elevator, they stopped for a second to check their handy work and that was all John needed to stick the muzzle out at their feet and squeeze the trigger, spraying 5.56mm bullets into the shins and feet of the unlucky men as they dropped almost at unison; screaming in pain and scrambling for sidearms, but John put a bullet in their heads before they could. He dropped the empty rifle and drew his pistols again, more cubicles. But besides the stray bullets that had missed the men bunched up at the elevator entrance they were intact. His 1911A1's would be far more useful here.

A bullet splintered the cubicle to his right and he brought his weapons to bear on the source. Behind the muzzle of a old smoking Mauser C-96 was the grizzled leader; he'd assume judging from the more ornate black uniform and the unique choice of pistol. He gave John a grizzled old grin as he held the sobbing presidents daughter in the other hand, clutching her brunette hair.

"You get points for the broomhandle but I knock a few off for the damsel in distress cliché" He commented dryly as the leader snorted, this whole thing felt cliché to be honest. But he had a job to do. He wasn't going to do that mexican stand-off thing.

"If you want to-" His right forty-five barked and the supposed leader went down with a gaping hole inbetween his eyes and slumped forward as the daughter screamed, scrambling herself away with a sob. John walked himself over as he picked up the C-96 happily, examining it. Oh yes..it was in fantastic condition..it was in 9x19mm judging by the big red nine. But it was almost perfect, the idiot took great care of it. He'd have to get some stripper clips for it as soon as possible. He was knocked out of his gun euphoria by the shaking woman. For all of his life, Brunette women meant trouble. He felt this one to be no different.

"You okay, Sweetheart?" He asked softly as he holstered the Mauser in his coat, kneeling down to untie her bonds. She was a pretty girl for sure, probably 20 or 21 at the oldest. "Y-Yeah.." She replied weakly, looking up with him with gratitude before hugging him against his protests before she figured out that she was currently resting in a big bloody stain.

"Uh..sorry.." He said as he pulled away awkwardly as she grimaced deeply, wiping blood vainly off her dress clothes before pulling a strand of hair behind her ear, she did look a little bit better now. A cute little smile appearing at the humor of his response. That was good at least.

"Your parents okay, kid?"

"Emma."

"Huh?"

"My name is Emma."

"Right, Your parents okay, Emma?" He corrected himself with a grin and she nodded, nudging her head towards a managers office. "Y-Yeah..they're a little beat up..but they should be fine." Well, that was a nice and easy end to a irritating job. A nice little bracket of money for it all. Sometimes he loved life.

"Great, let's go get them..I don't know about you but I wanna-.." There was a hum, that familiar whirling hum that reminded him so distinctly of the one thing that could ruin his easy paycheck. He turned to face the windows and he was staring at a charcoal black AH-64 Apache Attack Helicopter.

That really fucking figures.

He saw the barrel of the M230 30mm Autocannon staring them in the face and he grabbed Emma and sprinted back, driving them underneath cubicles as the whirl of the loading mechanism was only faintly heard. "Cover your ears! Open your mouth!" He yelled into Emma's ears. He didn't REALLY know if it worked, but hell. Anything was better than popped eardrums. The massive cannon boomed, huge forearm sized bullets whizzed past John's back, splinters of wood ripped past him as the autocannon raked across the room. For what seemed like a eternity because it took John a moment that they had actually LIVED through that. The bullets stopped and the rattling of the helicopter had started to fade. They were retreating.

He got off the presidents daughter, his eardrums had popped and he could feel the blood on them as he sat back against the splintered wood with a sigh, pulling the bloody comm out of his ear and tossing it to Emma who looked at it nervously.

"Turn it on, tell them your safe..and tell them I want a cigerette."

He didn't really smoke that much, but he figured he deserved it after somehow living past that ordeal. The look on the wounded secret service agents who protected the president was absolutely priceless when they found out it was him and not law enforcement or anybody else. Him. He blew smoke in their face.

He was a national hero, Johnathan Margrave. Former scum of the SS who left to pursue more money oriented adventures. He didn't give a flying shit about all that, but he did when he realized that they sent him almost double the contracted amount. He'd muck it up a little bit, he was sure to be on that organization's shitlist from now on. That's good, he thought. It wasn't that much of a hassle. Once he had his ears patched up as soon as they could, he was dressed in his finest black suit and crimson tie with his shoulder holster holding one of his 1911A1's comfortably inside the black jacket. She had gotten into a white number that left nothing to the imagination. The dinner was nothing but foreplay it seemed.

"So, my little John has become a hero to the people. That's quite noble of you." She purred, licking her lips of red wine as cleavage spilled out of her tiny dress. He grinned, biting into the last morsel of his finely cooked salmon in some wide number of flavors and spices he wasn't familiar with. Tasted fantastic though. In truth, he felt pretty smug about the whole ordeal. It was something of a pride booster to come out of that practically unscathed, he could probably pull a favor or two from the family later.

"Yeah..well..they paid me double, so I guess it all worked out in the end." He shrugged modestly, leaning himself back as spun the keys to his recently bought Saleen S7. In black, of course.

"So then, let's go celebrate."
02-28-2010 3:35 AMEnclave Agent is offline Send an Email to Enclave Agent Search for Posts by Enclave Agent Post Reply with Quote Edit/Delete Post       Go to the top of this page

Quote by Senor Chang:
Quote:
WWII Supernatual Silent Hill-Esque Stuff.


That concept reminds me of this short story I read about this confederate unit who had someone who'd been raised in new orleans around voodoo, and throughout all the battles he'd use that to bring them incredible luck and all, then finally they're decimated by this union regiment whos impervious to it, and one of the survivors then finds out it's because the opposing regiment is based out of salem.

So yeah theres precedent for this I guess


Dammit where the hell is this book...or did I lose it/dispose of it/whatever during the move.

It was like some collection of little short fiction about the civil war. This is the only part of it I remember even slightly..probably cause I think the rest may have sucked and I just though "oh hey, neat concept".

Quote:
moar focus on the monsters.


Dustin if you ever go back and do more of this, ignore him. Or at least up to a point.

Shit thats sort of suggested and intimated is way better than explicitly spelling it out or shoving it right in the audiences faces. The dank, moe, the dank! dread is Shoewesome

__________________
JE SUIS CHARLIE


These are not fairy tales, or myths. This place of power is tangible, and as such, can be found, entered, and perhaps, utilized in some fashion..

Quote by Nina Fortner (regarding faking one's death):
Been there done that. No one would believe it this time.

Quote by Alizarin:
holy fuck i am ready to burn it all down. all of it.

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