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Post by NµKe on Sept 5, 2011 0:05:35 GMT -5
Zephate smiled. She was a unstable feline, but he liked her. As long as she wasn't turning on him, the instability was more than tolerable. It was cute.
Impact in fifteen minutes.
"Dang... that's a long time..." Zephate muttered to himself. When Charl looked up, in her slightly-insecure, tear-ridden manner, Zephate clarified, "I mean, it would've been a long time if I wasn't pleasantly placed with you, m'dear."
"I'm not dumb, I understand what you meant."
Zephate's face displayed worry.
"No, not like... I'm not mad, I just know that you have a hard time sitting still for more than thirty seconds."
"Oh, yeah. Right." Zephate relaxed and nodded.
He leaned his head back against the pseudo-leather back of his bench and cracked his neck.
"So, what kind of ship would you prefer to commandeer, my dear."
Charl giggled at the rhyming words. Zephate looked up with a straight face and she ceased her giggling. A second later they both erupted in laughter.
"A fast one... with guns. I'd like to do some good space-battles, ya know? I trained in some simulators, but I'd actually like the rush of trying it for real."
Zephate chuckled.
"Great, an emotional space freighter wreck at sea in a tempest that is now an adrenaline junky."
Impact in two minutes...
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Post by Galio on Sept 5, 2011 0:35:35 GMT -5
Charl cocked her head. "Well... I guess I could be. One cool thing about not knowing myself is that I can be anyone I want to be. Maybe I'll browse around before deciding." She smiled.
The pod gyrated as it struck the outer atmosphere.
Impact in one minute...
Charl, not strapped in, field stripped and reassembled her pistols in the final minute. "You bring your swimming suit? I hear it's a balmy day."
The pod fired its air brakes and violently met the ice.
Zephate bounced up and flipped the collar of his coat. "My favorite one."
She zipped up her jacket. "Me too."
They kicked the door out. The relentless hands of ice and death instantly rushed in and nearly caused them to faint as it viciously clasped their faces and hands. The shocking cold quickly embraced their entire bodies and began to sink into their muscles.
Charl tried to speak but closed her mouth before allowing the bitter cold to pass her tongue. The air was even freezing her eyes. This was truly an unforgiving world.
Before two seconds of attempting to quantify the sheer caliber of this cold, they plunged out into a whirling flurry of icy snow.
The wind was fiercely whipping the snow horizontally. Within moments, Charl's hair was a solid that was streaming behind her. She kept having to brush her eyes to keep the frost from building up on her eyelashes.
She followed closely behind Zephate who's coat had now frozen in it's billowing state. He raised his arm, cracking ice off of his shoulder. He pointed to a strobe light not far away. They made for it with as much speed as they could offer with frozen muscles.
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Post by NµKe on Sept 5, 2011 0:46:39 GMT -5
The strobe that was flashing was simply another pod, which had been vacated by one member, and was still lived in by the other. Well, "lived in" is not correct, as the occupant was definitely dead. Nevertheless, there was a relatively deep trench of snow leading away from the pod towards what Zeph determined was probably a small outpost. It was dark against the white snow and ice.
Zephate began to yell, just to help endure the pain. He heard Charl as she embraced his practice and began screaming. As they neared the outpost though, Charl tapped Zephate and made a "shh" motion, communicating that they should probably sneak up on the outpost.
As they came nearer to the backdoor of the hangar-looking building, the door and the frame and a bit of the material around the door exploded out. One dead humanoid worker and two mogs came out of the now-massive exit. Zephate was stunned, but only for a second as the mogs now recognized more prey.
The blade was out and the first extremity of the closest mog was severed. Red splattered across white and the yells were so loud that Zephate and Charl both covered their ears.
Pain was obviously the most difficult obstacle in life for mogs. They weren't used to being pushed around or hurt in any way except for each other and that was merely bumps and scratches, not severed limbs. The mogs both retreated, yelling, grunting, and roaring at the audacity of some opponent in actually injuring a mog.
Zephate and Charl entered the hangar that was littered with human bodies and realized that they could take a full breath without their lungs aching.
"Well, they will probably be back swiftly. I've heard mogs are ridiculously vengeful. Any chance of a ship in here, ya think?"
Charl was already jogging towards a separate part of the hangar.
"Zephate... look at this..."
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Post by Galio on Sept 5, 2011 1:05:07 GMT -5
She lowered to the floor. "Some of these are Family guards. Why were they here?"
Zephate jogged up behind her shaking off his coat. After a clattering of ice and snow on the floor, he said, "The plot thickens... and I don't know how."
Mog roars sounded over the howling wind outside. "We should get inside" Charl said, moving to a door in the hangar.
Zephate followed, checking the hinder door for mogs. "I'm for that. They can have outside. Wow, that was cold!"
She cautiously stepped into the doorway. Expecting a room, she stumbled down two steps of a long stairway. She turned back at Zephate. Some of her still frozen hair snapped off on the wall. "Gah!" She looked sadly down at the icy pieces on the stairs. "Anyway, I was going to say this looks like fun."
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Post by NµKe on Sept 5, 2011 2:26:20 GMT -5
"Oh, it will be fun, I'm sure. Look! A flashlight."
Zephate pulled a conveniently placed flashlight off the wall next to him.
Dead. No extra batteries.
"Now, as I was saying, planning ahead is definitely something that these outposts seem to really struggle with." Zephate stated as they cautiously reached the bottom of the long staircase.
Zephate drew his blade and simply began walking down the hallway swing the blade slowly back and forth.
"That's a dangerous practice..." said a voice.
Zephate froze, turned to Charl, chuckled a little, then fainted.
Charl looked down at Zephate on the ground, then up at the shape coming towards her in the semi-darkness.
"Who's there?" Charl attempted a whimper.
"Your worst... night--" the words were cut off by Charl's roundhouse to the head and Zephate's slice at the knees. The truly unconscious, legless fellow toppled to the floor.
"Bahaha! Arrogant twerp." Zeph spat.
Charl smiled triumphantly.
"How did you know I was faking?" Zephate asked in bemused wonderment.
"I didn't..." Charl stated as she kept walking, feeling along the walls for any doors or clues as to what was below. The first find that she happened upon was a lightswitch. Flicking it on revealed an unusually long hallway that had seven doors near the end of it. Three on the left and right and one at the end. The end door was occupied by an emergency push-bar that informed any would-be user of the alarm that would sound if utilized.
Then the mogs came.
You could hear them barreling over each other and falling down the staircase behind them. Zephate and Charl bolted for the end of the hallway.
"Second on the left." Charl stated at the same time that Zephate stated that the second on the right would be the best choice.
In unison again, "Okay, let's do yours."
"Fraggin..." Zephate muttered.
"Fine, first on the left." Charl compromised.
Zeph broke into a slide, seeing as the floor was a well-polished tile (odd, but convenient), and stopped by grabbing the handle. He pushed the door open and bowed his head as a butler.
"After you, m'lady."
Charl curtsied and gracefully strode through the door which was slammed by Zephate as soon as he had entered.
The room, again, was black.
Zephate hit the light-switch this time, but instead of finding an empty room, they realized that they had stumbled upon a previously undisturbed barracks. Seven choruses of "turn that (mog-infested son of a cave-dwellers' mother's worst nightmarish object) off!!"
The light went back off and Zephate slid along the wall a little ways pulling Charl with him.
"If the mogs enter, they will see the sleepers first... then we might be able to make our escape..." he whispered.
"Or you could just cut them again..." Charl reasoned.
"No... that would... only possibly work.. okay, fine, but that's a last resort. Mogs are kinda... cuddly... and--"
"Shut up, you lost this round."
Mutters and immature attempts at cursing were the only sounds apart from a few snores and more than a few pounding footsteps leading up towards their current location.
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Post by Galio on Sept 9, 2011 23:58:44 GMT -5
The mogs were being disturbingly silent. Charl and Zephate could hear little more than their heavy footsteps and their deep-throated breaths. They both simultaneously realized that if the mogs were going to go stealth, then they sure as heck were too.
Charl went into the hall first. She ran diagonally to the opposite wall and ran upward to the ceiling allowing the first mog to run beneath her. From her new, inverted vantage, she noted that the number of mogs was much higher than anticipated. They filled the hall from where she was to the hangar door at the end. And they were still coming. Steel was bared.
When Charl got into very tight positions, she scarcely realized what she was doing. Instinct and training replaced her rational mind as pilot, and her body was the vessel. She remembered dives, slides, rolls, dodges, and even rides, but she didn't remember making a conscious decision for the duration of the skirmish.
The smell of mog blood was a fowl, murky odor. She was bathing in it. She thought it strange, as she and Zephate cut through the mog armada that they let out no cries of pain. They hadn't sounded a charge either. They must instinctually keep silent for attacking other mog clans or something.
Charl finally found her self at the end of the mog line. She finished the last in line and jumped when she saw Zephate standing right behind her. His katana rested on his shoulder as his final kill stumbled to its final resting place in the newly painted hall. He smiled and whispered, "Quietest battle EVER."
In the sort of grin that would be horrifying to anyone observing the scene out of context, Charl showcased a dark blood red on pearly white contrast and whispered back, "I know! It was weird!"
They both posed in soundless triumph with a foot on top of a slain mog. Charl commented, "I bet if Jorj were here, he'd shoot any twitching body he saw with his new gun." Zephate exploded into a staggeringly boisterous guffaw for one quarter of a second before slapping a hand to his mouth.
A stir came from the room of sleepers. A man with a crew cut walked into the hall squinting... going to the bathroom, it seemed. His foot struck a mog corpse, and with a rudimentary investigation into the strike, he became fully awakened. He gaped at the catatonically at the cadaver extravaganza in the hall... for a long time. Charl and Zephate watched him stand in the threshold for two minutes straight. He did seem to have actually gone catatonic.
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Post by Hoovy on Sept 11, 2011 20:31:55 GMT -5
A stir came from the room of sleepers. A man with a crew cut walked into the hall squinting... going to the bathroom, it seemed. His foot struck a mog corpse, and with a rudimentary investigation into the strike, he became fully awakened. He gaped at the catatonically at the cadaver extravaganza in the hall... for a long time. Charl and Zephate watched him stand in the threshold for two minutes straight. He did seem to have actually gone catatonic.
The man slowly looked away then turned back around and faced Charl and Zephate. Charl smiled happily and waved. "Hias!" Zephate winked. The man gasped and began to shout "HELP! HELP! OVERLY FRIENDLY INTRUDERS! HELP!" He spun on his heal and ran back into the barracks and tried to wake up his comrades. All he got from them was a handful of curses and threats. He peeked back out of the doorway.
"W-who... are y-you p-people...?" The man asked trembling.
Zephate cleared his throat. "We are health inspectors my boy. And it seems you and your group have some, minor, infractions on your part." He kicked the nearest mog body for effect. "Clearly a violation." Zephate whipped out his datapad and started writing something down. He handed it to Charl. [Play along. Remember, let me lead. Now, hand my datapad back to me.] She obeyed the message and handed it back to Zephate. "Now," he said angrily, "I demand to the see the man in charge."
The man ducked back into the barracks. He woke one of the sleeping men. "Boss, health inspectors are here. They want to talk to you." 'Boss' punched him in the face.
"Tim, you are by far the stupidest person I've ever known. Now, grab your weapons and suit up. We got ourselves some intruders to kill..."
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Post by NµKe on Sept 12, 2011 15:20:39 GMT -5
Zephate nodded to Charl. It was time to go. They both took the stairs four at a time and were at the top in no time.
The hangar doors had all been either ripped open or slid open. It was very, very bright. Zephate squinted against the revolting change. It was like waking up to a floodlight two inches above your face. His head began to ache for a second, but that all abated as his senses were doused by the frigid air.
Charl was already running to what looked to be a land-cruiser of some sort. It definitely was made for the planet considering its method of movement was blades rather than wheels. She hopped in and chuckled.
"I love when people leave the keys in, makes life SO much simpler."
"For Grand Theft Auto, you reprobate!"
Charl gave a deadpan stare. Zephate morphed his 'pious, degrading look' to the excited face of a child on Christmas morn.
"I call driving!" He roared...
"I'm already in the seat, Zeph..."
"So?"
"Get. In. The. Back... Seat..."
Zephate slowed and somewhat melted under Charl's menacing glare. A woman? Taking leadership? What had the training done to her... she was... okay, well, she was ridiculously attractive when she was angry, but still... Zeph wanted to drive.
"But I--"
"Nope."
"Fine."
Zephate jogged around the vehicle to the storage trunk he had noticed whilst arguing. He opened it up and peered inside, giving a slightly mad giggle.
"I thought we were leaving?" Charl inquired.
"The best defense is a bloody, explosive, deadly offense, Charlypie." Zephate stated as he hauled a massive Gatling Gun over the edge of the trunk and mounted on the back of the machine.
"New Toys..." he whimpered, almost in tears. "I love it..."
Charl started... the cold air was getting even colder.
"Is it... possible... that we were just in the middle of the day at peak heat... and now... it's going to get...c-colder?"
"Very possible... Want to go hibernate in a mog?" Zephate's eyes twinkled and his eyebrows bounced... Charl slapped him and hopped out of the cruiser.
"Better idea..."
"...different idea..."
"... that involves less blood and awkwardness, we use these suits! They seem to be in good condition."
"Well, duh, that's the shipping box that they just arrived in..."
They swiftly donned the hideously orange suits that barely fit them. Charl's -- too small, believe it or not... must have been the wrong size... sent for a midget... and Zephate's -- ridiculously large... baggy was cool and all, but he was swimming... or probably more accurately, drowning from the folds and folds of enhanced fabric. They both tumbled into the machine and began going... neither of them daring to insult the other, lest the vengeance be more swift than the attack.
Out into the sun... well, the falling sun... and the falling temperatures. They still shivered a little in their suits, but the prospect of possibly being off the planet soon (judging by the radar in the machine leading them to a nearby launch pad) was warming their souls...
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Post by Galio on Sept 12, 2011 23:54:15 GMT -5
Charl had never driven a machine like this, but allowing this to frighten her was not on the list of options. It literally wasn't.
The machine used a series of ski-like blades that flexed back and forth, much like a snake. It created a strange sort of scraping sound on the icy snow. It was just quiet enough to make you want to listen for something that might be chasing you. These thoughts passed through Charl's brain. She checked behind them.
"Of course..."
Zephate could also see the menacing drove of vengeful mogs in pursuit of their snomoskithingy.
"So this is why they kept this in the trunk." He revved up the barrels of the gun and cut loose. The mogs didn't fall in such silent grace as when they were inside. Roars on every end of the clef sounded out from behind them.
Charl did her best to find a boost of sorts to no avail. "Why can't this thing go any faster?!" She punched the control panel and inadvertently flipped a switch. Yes, the boost switch. A massive rocket no doubt designed for outrunning ravenous mogs ignited just below Zephate's feet.
The acceleration was enough to slam him into the back of the gatling gun and nearly over the back. He held on with his stomach pressed against the back rail of the craft. The flames from the rocket were mere feet from his face. He held to the craft with his feet and put his hands near the rocket. "Ooooohohooo... That's warm."
Charl desperately tried to maintain control of the craft. The skis lifted off of the snow constantly, so there was little she could do in the realm of steering. She simply willed it to stay upright.
The launch pad was shockingly nearer than before. So Charl flipped the switch back into the off position. Nothing happened. She flipped it back and forth madly. She pounded the panel again. Still nothing. She pulled her pistol and shot it just as the craft reached the crest of a hill with a very steep drop. They shot off of the precipice at an unsafe speed and came into view of the launch pad. It was very well lit.
Zephate turned around. "Hey, I was enjoying the--wow. There it is. Um, Charl, we're not on the ground."
They kept their forward momentum, but commenced an unforgiving descent. Charl looked back at Zeph with pathetic, apologetic eyes. He just frowned at her. The ground met them kindly. They plunged, nose first into the snow and moments later, discovered themselves a good score feet below the surface.
Charl lit a flare. "Hey. We're here, wake up!"
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Post by NµKe on Sept 15, 2011 20:39:46 GMT -5
Zephate let out a series of uncouth phrases consisting of zombies and their rather unsightly parts and functions... None of which should be repeated or dwelt upon so they shall be stricken from the record.
"Yeah, yeah... I'm awake... sadly..."
Zephate moved a little. Thank the heavens (yes, all of them) that the snow wasn't packed as solidly as expected. He started to claw around and began moving upwards, slowly and not so surely. Eventually, after about perhaps ten feet or so, he met the snow that had been affected by the snomoskithingy. Packed as hard as rocks.
"Hey Charl... any ideas as to... Charl?"
"Yeah, I'm up top looking for a rope or pick-axe or something."
"How the devil did you--?"
"Found a sharp rock! Gonna use it, cover your head."
"Oh... uhm, okay... can't really move, but I'll think good thoughts about you not splitting my noggin in twain."
She hacked and dug and scraped and then dusted the snow off Zephate's head. He looked up with little, frozen tears in his eyes.
"No lies... I was definitely more scared of that rock going through my skull than the mogs mauling me. Thank you for your carefulness."
"I'm efficient." Charl smiled.
"I know... that's what scared me..." Zeph grunted as he was dragged out of his makeshift cocoon.
He was dusting off the snow and general cold thingies that had engulfed him when the next order sounded.
"On the ground!!"
"But I just got OUT of it..." Zeph protested.
"Now! Or you get shot."
Not funny. When you are chased by ravenous creatures, attacked by deadly pirates, assaulted by nasty zombies, and forced to deal with unsavory people like Jorj, you are NOT threatened in the same day for not dropping to the ground.
Zephate looked up with a deadly look in his eye. Charl's hand slowly touched his arm to try and calm him. It was only one lone scout. No one would miss him. Just one clean throw and that neck would be severed so cleanly... just one clean throw... Charl squeezed his arm. Dang. Stupid morals... c'mon Charl, just look away. He looked at her and she gave him the look of 'yeah, I know, but he's still somewhat innocent. Just trying to do his job...'
Zephate sighed. The guard was drawing nearer.
"I told you to get down!"
The guard got close enough to think about shoving them down. Zephate didn't like that. Charl's protests or not, if he so much as thought-- The gun nudged his left arm and Zephate's blade was out. The front half of the gun and pieces of the man's glove were sawed off. No blood. Dang. But the front end of the gun fell satisfactorily to the snow. The soldier froze in complete terror. Zephate drank the fear like mead after a looooong day with Jorj. It was pure bliss.
"Now listen" Charl began, "we actually don't mean you any harm."
"But what we mean to do doesn't always happ--"
"Zeph."
Doh... it's the truth though! Zephate was about to pout, but he thought better of it. She was better with politics and junk like that. Well, maybe not better... but cleaner. Yeah, that's a better word.
"Just take us back to your base and help us get off this forsaken planet. Got it?"
"Well put, Charly."
The soldier simply nodded and started walking back to the base, still carrying his weapon, but without as much pride and pompousness as before. Zephate chuckled to himself.
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Post by Hoovy on Sept 16, 2011 21:29:33 GMT -5
The soldier simply nodded and started walking back to the base, still carrying his weapon, but without as much pride and pompousness as before. Zephate chuckled to himself.
The trio walked towards the base next to the launch pad. They saw no other people, and no mogs so it was starting to look better in Zephate's book. They made it to the Airlock door to the base. "Wait here," the scout said bluntly, and walked inside.
Zephate started to pull out his knife, when Charl stared daggers into his face. Zephate frowned and put it away. "...Never let me do anything fun..." By this time the guard returned with two of his friends. Both armed with shotguns and in full body armor. "Let's go, the boss wants to see you," stated the guard and he just turned and walked off down the cold steel corridor.
"Well, lets go meet the head pirate boss dude. I hope he like my pirate jokes. I've been working on them for the better half of the day." Zephate smiled to himself and sorta skipped down the hallway after the guards.
'I think the cold froze what was left of his brain...' thought Charl as she followed behind him.
-5 minutes of wandering throughout corridors later-
"Well, here we are. Boss' office. Uh, Jammy, you take them inside. I'll wait out here."
"Why do I have to?" Jammy whined.
"Because I said so."
Jammy crossed his arms. "Fine." He opened the door and ushered the two inside. "Boss, dere's sum people here tah see ya."
"Why thank you Jammy, that will be all." said a voice from behind the large black leather chair.
Zephate nudged Charl. "That almost sounded like..."
"Hias!" Jorj said spinning around in his chair. "How do you like my new army?"
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Post by Galio on Sept 17, 2011 1:58:44 GMT -5
Charl responded like a cobra to a brazen rat, "I like it like I like the bubonic! What are you doing here!?"
Jorj felt a little like grandstanding from his opulent perch, but... he did anyway. "I like it like I like. There's a lot of likes in there. I like it like I like. I like it!"
The same thought had crossed Zephate's mind when Charl said it, but the phrase which was a fuel source for the wonder of joy and love was cheapened into a hallow notion after Jorj thought all over it.
Charl didn't hear a word he said. She and Zephate were two glowering towers interrogating Jorj with their sheer aura.
The opulence of his perch was somewhat lowered by the silent inquisition, but Jorj kept his upper-hand mentality. "I'm saving your lives, to answer your question. Nobody on this afterburner world has any clue who you are. But if they filed one report in the system, The Family would descend on you two like hard rain... that's on fire! So I pulled rank and took over here when my pod landed. They report to me now. I'm still technically Family."
"Yay. Group hug." Zephate was still put out that Jorj blundered into his life again.
Charl sassed, "So what are your plans for us, General Malison? May we embark upon one of your many vessels? I have some insidious rancor to set loose, and it would be a shame for that to be released early!"
Jorj sat quietly in the chair for a moment, a sobering visage about him. "You're welcome. Both of you. Also, thanks for marooning me on a ship that was moments from exploding! I'll have you know, I did think about letting that scout write up the report."
Charl's platform was shaken beneath her. Whether or not Zephate was, Charl was rebuked. She looked toward Zeph. "Shame? Uuuhhmm... repentant?"
"Goodness, not that bad. Contrite, maybe."
Charl looked at Jorj. "We're sorry for leaving you. Thanks for thinking you saved us, and we're glad you're alive."
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Post by NµKe on Sept 19, 2011 14:09:58 GMT -5
"Alright, well, let's not get carried away, Charl..." Zephate muttered.
Zeph looked up at Jorj. Then at the various doors leading out from the room. He felt his blade still attached to his back. It wanted out.
Jorj cracked his knuckles in a way that would have been menacing had he not been... well, Jorj. He then attempted an evil sort of smile and took a long, deep sigh.
"Charl... always the prettier one of the two."
Zephate growled a little, then realized that he didn't want to be 'pretty' to Jorj.
"Charl, why not leave that sorry piece of wasted potential and join someone who has something to offer?"
"And that would be--?"
"Me! Charl! Me! Leader of this entire establishment! General Malison! You know, though Zephate has frowned upon me from the beginning, I actually have a lot to offer."
Zephate whispered his response... "Couch cushion, dart board, throw rug, punching bag, pinata, target practice..."
"What are you trying to say, Jorj?" Charl cut to the chase and looked up at him with a questioning look.
"Leave Zephate. Join me. Easy enough to understand?"
Zephate finally got it and was shocked. Leave him? Leave? The audacity of such a mucous-infected tapeworm!
Zephate imitated Jorj's pansy voice as well as he could.
"Guards!!" he called, and promptly, two of the guards burst in through the entrance. Zephate drew his weapon and in one flash was shutting the door as both guards' heads rolled off the shoulders and landed on the floor. Zephate picked up both their pistols and the shotgun that the obviously higher-ranking officer had had. He tossed the pistol to Charl who trained it on Jorj's head. Zephate sheathed his sword and also aimed his pistol at the now-a-bit-more-nervous Jorj.
"How. dare. you. try. to. steal. my. Charl..." Zephate stated with the seething anger flowing out with each word.
"So, how about we re-think this whole idea, eh, Jorjie-pie?" said Charl, grinning with victory.
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Post by Hoovy on Sept 20, 2011 18:50:18 GMT -5
"So, how about we re-think this whole idea, eh, Jorjie-pie?" said Charl, grinning with victory.
Jorj looked shocked. Then his expression relaxed. Jorj sighed. "Ok, fine. I get the point. But, since you *did* consider my offer for however short the time was, I guess I'll at least give you thirty seconds to come to consider my terms..." He reached under the desk and hit a special red button he had found earlier. A thick glass wall shot down from the ceiling to block off Jorj's side of the room, and the blast door behind them locked shut. Speakers placed on Charl and Zephate's side clicked on. "So," Jorj said via the intercoms, "I just hit one more button and this office floods with a deadly neuro-toxin. Now, I don't want to do that, because that neuro-toxin is quite... exotic... and is very hard to replace. My terms are as follows: ONE," Jorj said leaning forward on his desk, "You will treat me with respect, like my friends here do. That means including me in decisions and not insulting me as much."
"Yeah... that's going to happen..." Zephate mumbled.
"I can still hear you Zephate."
Zephate muttered something about missing the next zombie that attacks Jorj, and crossed his arms. "Fine. I'll try to insult you less."
"Good enough. TWO. Charl, I want you to teach me all the fighting moves you know. Swords, guns, fist, knives, everything. And, saving the best for last, Zephate, I want you to address me as 'Your grand awesome boss-man sir'."
At this last demand, Zephate was in outrage. "That's it you little punk! I am going to smash through your little wall and paint this room's walls red with your blood!" He raised his shotgun and started shooting the glass. Charl joined in, with a little bit of remorse for what Jorj had been. That annoying little twerp was always trying his best, but now over the past day or so, he turned into something else. Something far more evil.
Jorj laughed and leaned back in his seat. "That glass is bullet-proof little Zephate. You can't shoot it down."
Zephate was infuriated, How DARE he dare insult him! He threw the gun at the glass and saw it crack, just a little bit. He unsheathed his katana and started to hack at the wall. Jorj noticed this also and pounded the neuro-toxin button. At first nothing happened, but a transparent green mist started to flow into the room through the air vents. Zephate coughed, stumbling back, "Charl, I'm going t-*cough* to throw my katana. Shoot *cough* it when it sticks into the glass. Make him pay!" With these last words, he broke into a violent coughing fit and puked up a mouthful of blood. He slung his sword and embedded it into the glass, then collapsed to the floor.
Charl was already starting to get lightheaded. Her training with The Family had trained her in anti-toxin methods. So far, they were only slowing the neuro-toxin's effects. She fired into the area where the sword met the glass. Jorj on the other side looked scared. He frantically waved 'No', but he had lost all influence on Charl. She fired one round and it blew a hole the size of person into the glass. The toxin rushed into Jorj's side. He started coughing violently and looked up with hatred in his eyes. Then Charl shot him. One round hit him the the chest, another in the arm, and a final one shattered the side of his skull. His hands jerked to his face reflexively, trying in vain to stop the blood. He fell, head resting on his desk, blood pooling beneath him. Charl smiled slowly, feeling warm inside before everything faded into black...
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"Wake up! You go and get yourself almost killed and you think that gives you the right to lay around for days? Back in my day..." the voice trailed off.
Charl snapped away and took a deep breath. She hadn't expect to be alive still. She looked around her, observing the new surroundings. They were in a cave that someone, she looked around and saw the old man that had spoken earlier cooking something on a stove, had obviously been living in. Surprisingly, it was warm in the cave. She glanced around and saw Zephate, laying on a similar bed of quilts starting to arouse. "Where-" she coughed, "Where are we?"
The old man didn't even turn around. "In a cave. Is stupidity an effect of the neuro-toxin or do you just find it natural?" He started mumbling to himself as he cooked.
Charl normally would have objected, but she felt, trusting towards this old man for some reason. Zephate sat up and rubbed his head.
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Post by NµKe on Sept 24, 2011 17:55:59 GMT -5
((I wrote a large post... then it somehow got deleted [anger, rage, and fuming]. Nevertheless... I am going to chill for now and post later.))
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