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Post by ashley on Nov 6, 2011 9:02:16 GMT -5
[style=padding-top: 10px;] [/style] [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style,background-color: #f8f8f8; padding-left: 10px; padding-top: 10px; padding-right: 10px; width: 100px;padding-bottom: 10px;] | [atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style,background-color: #80d0ea; width: 400px;][style=font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold; font-size: 77px; z-index: 1; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: -15px; position: relative; margin-top: -10px; color: #ffffff; opacity: .6; alpha:filter(opacity=60%);]double[/style][style=font-family: georgia; font-style: italic; text-transform: lowercase; z-index: 2; font-size: 45px; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 2px; margin-top: -50px; position: relative;]rainbow[/style][style=font-family: century gothic; font-size: 15px; color: #ffffff; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center;]all the way. what does it mean?[/style] |
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Someone came at him, although it wasn't suspicious. Something dug into him quickly, he was so shocked by the feeling that he didn't even feel much pain. He stumbled out of the crowd, there was an odd feeling of something leaving his body; he felt like he was emptying. He collapsed onto his hands and knees, dropping his bunny, her paws splashed into the blood the floor. The bunny hopped up to her owners face, licking his nose and nudging him with a care almost human. The sawdust smell made Ashley smile briefly. He held onto Locco with weak hands. He said nothing, kneeling low, holding onto a bundle of soft, sawdust smelling rabbit. The bunny didn't fight, but licked Ashley's cheek.
The boy looked at his animal companion, the beady eyes of Locco seemed sad. Her paws and belly reddened. He smiled at her and her nose twitched. He giggled before frowning, a pain overcame him. He stood again and stumbled into someone. He didn't know who, but he still held Locco, who curled up in his arms.
Ashley met the eyes of Wasaki and smiled. [/style]
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[style=font-family: century gothic; font-size: 12px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase;]made by zingara of OTE[/style]
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Eva Liu
Advanced Member
}}Kishin Egg Souls{0} Human Souls{0} Witch Souls{0} Points{1703}
Now that it's raining more than ever.
Posts: 149
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Post by Eva Liu on Nov 15, 2011 16:44:03 GMT -5
What's the point of having a phone if the text comes at just about the same time the panicked masses do? So much for instant communication. Eva had been part of the earlier wave to reach the gates, but these crestfallen individuals were starting to disperse from the gate when they realized there was no forcing the entrance open. Several ineffectual efforts had been made, though they consisted mostly of swearing and venting anger. A few undeterred souls foolishly tried to climb their way out, only to start sliding down barely a fourth of the way up. She had been so occupied with watching their escape attempts that she hadn't noticed her phone buzzing away in her purse. Huh, were there this many people before, or had they come back to watch?
“You have 1 missed call and 1 new message.” “are u still in the Carnival??? they said a Shibusen kid got stabbed to death!”
Eva stared at the bizarre message. Please, it took more than a random shanking to down a Shibusen student, what kind of stupid hoax was this? Someone obviously heard about the blackout and decided to take advantage of the situation. “Hey, watch it!” She nearly dropped her phone there was suddenly so much pushing and shoving. “What are you doing? It’s not going to open! Hey! Hey! Stop it!” There was more than just bemusement and frustration that the influx of new people carried about them. There was the sense of the desperate desire to escape, locked gates or not. The girl tried to shove her way to the edge of the crowd, but could gain little ground against the crush of human bodies. She might call it a stampede except that there was nowhere for those in front to go except underneath the feet of those behind her. Were they hoping that the sheer weight of so many bodies would do the trick? Apparently so!
The costumed flapper threw her hands behind her and yelped as a sharp forward surge slammed her against someone else. That was it, she decided. There was no way she was going to be trampled. They’d stomp each other to death before getting out. She kicked against those still trying to move forward, creating a space for herself so that she was no longer pressed against another person with nowhere to go. Freely throwing her elbows into sides, ribs, and chins as needed and ignoring the pain of shoes crushing her stocking feet, Eva started up her efforts once more with increased vigor. If others might be able to follow the momentary path she blazed, but they had to move quickly as more bodies quickly reclaimed the space.
Displaying more aggression than she thought herself capable of, Eva even briefly considered transforming her arm. That’d clear things up fast, or just cause even more chaos. Bad idea, very bad idea. Luckily the crowd came to an end before her self-control did. Those at the very edge relented with relative ease, but she ran until she was a safe distance away from the frenzied pack. She looked back at her phone as she caught her breath, noting that the message had come from her cousin and not a mysterious mass spam text. Well then, so that’s what those people were so upset about. No matter, she was a weapon and a Shibusen student at that, this would just be one more impromptu mission to take on.
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Post by wasaki on Nov 15, 2011 17:08:08 GMT -5
A death rattle is always distant. Always emotionless. It’s said that the expression people die with on their faces are reminiscent of the kind of people that they were in life. Wasaky thought that was a load of fucking bullshit, but how else could you explain the happy softness crinkling the cheek of stab victim as he descended into an eternal slumber peaceful enough to make the living blue with envy. “Wait…don’t” Wasaki murmured, but immediately felt foolishness when the lethargic sag of the victim’s muscles became deadweight in his arms. It was too late.
Laying the head of the rather beautiful student on that unforgiving carnival floor he immediately beset his eyes upon the surrounding crowd. Saucers filled with accusing suspicion as they zipped from one person to the next. The gothic girl had managed to find her way to the front and now stared at him, drenched in three even coats of blood in several spots, with a look of pure horror on her face. Somehow he wasn’t frightened instead there was a sensation prickling at the back of his mind forcing him to move slowly, cautiously in rising to his feet and he became more aware of the creases in his jacket or the sharp intakes of breaths that were his lungs attempt to combat the adrenal glands kicking into overdrive. He shivered from head to toe, but the armpits of the shirt beneath the bi-layers of clothing were dark with sweat. “Outta my way!” he snapped, shoving hard against a nameless face as he immediately sought to create distance between himself and the heavy crowd of mourners and panic stricken people.
“Alright, I just gotta make sure I keep my shit together,” he told himself. Violence was no stranger to him—there was nothing new about what he’d just seen…nothing new about the blood that was soaking into his clothing, the way the thick liquid settled on the linen’s surface before leaving a crimson sphere in its wake hours later. HE was fucking used to death! “One of dese mofuckas killed ‘em. I know it. They know it…just keep movin’ and keep an eye out for anyone suspicious…I need a—need a goddamned weapon man.”
He had his first mission. He was no meister. He was not well trained martial artist. Hell, he was barely a Shibusen student; he was a street thug. This was his specialty.
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Post by Rick Fader on Nov 18, 2011 2:57:06 GMT -5
Rick finally had the chance to go to the carnival in Death City. During his first year at Shibusen, Rick was too focused on his studies to bother with the carnival. The second year, it was around this time that Rick was locked in his life-and-death struggle with the Torso Killer himself, earning the scar on his forearm before drowning the Kishin Egg to death. Last year, Rick was in the hospital recovering from the wound he received at the hands of Leatherface.
The first thing the Demon Chair would do was to go on the Mega Drop. As a child, this was one of his favorite rides. However, for whatever reason, the feeling of dropping at insane speeds just didn't do it for him. The second ride he went on was the Ring of Fire, a real thrill for him back in Boston. Again, after actually experiencing a real life-and-death situation, the Demon Chair wasn't all that excited by the ride.
After failed attempts with the rides, the Demon Chair went over to buy some cotton candy from the vendor. The one thing that actually made him somewhat happy that night was the blue and pink fluff sweetly melting in his mouth. However, as Rick was enjoying his treat, the power flickered out on the fair. Once the power came back on, the Demon Chair rushed back over to the gate. From there, he saw several people at the gate. Many were panicked, one even thought this was a part of the event.
"Uh, of all the Halloween Carnivals I've been to, none involve locking everyone in the grounds. People normally are allowed to run the fuck out, especially after shittin' themselves. . .", replied the Demon Chair.
Son of a buttfuck. . ., thought Rick as he watched futile attempts at opening the gates, and the corpse of the guard. There was no way this night would end well by any means.
After a few moments, Rick saw a group of teenagers texting about a dead boy.
"Where the fuck is the poor fucker anyways?", asked Rick. After the teens told him what they could, Rick immediately rushed off to the site, seeing two people. A boy he never saw before was cradling the victim in his arms. However, the dead boy was Ashley Shaw, Nova's coworker and Rocton's partner.
"OH FUCK! ASH!!", shouted Rick as he rushed up to the boy. Rick looked at him, obviously dead. "Oh fuck no. . .", muttered the blue-haired boy.
At this point, all Rick could feel was anger. Whoever did this to Ashley would pay with their lives. . .
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Post by gerrard on Nov 20, 2011 17:07:47 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0px,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h99/houndoomXdelta/de.png); width: 500px; -moz-border-radius: 20px 20px 20px 20px; border-radius: 20px 20px 20px 20px; border: 1px dashed #000000][style=font-family: arial black; color: #c5c590; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: 5px; margin-bottom: -15px; text-align: center;]blew down the doors to let me in[/style][style=font-family: arial black; color: #efefc6; font-size: 40px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; letter-spacing: -3px]shattered windows[/style][style=font-family: arial black; color: #efefc6; font-size: 15px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; margin-top: -25px; letter-spacing: 8px; text-shadow: 1px 0px 0px #000000, 1px 1px 0px #000000, -1px 0px 0px #000000, 0px 1px 0px #000000, -1px 1px 0px #000000, 0px -1px 0px #000000;]and the sounds of drums[/style][style=font-family: arial black; color: #c5c590; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 5px; margin-top: -5px; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 10px]people couldn't believe what I'd become[/style] [style=font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; background-color: #000000; text-align: justify; margin-top: 5px; color: #464646]♙words : shameful; ♙tags: event peeps; ♙lyrics: viva la vida by coldplay;[/style][style=background-color: #414141; color: #000000; padding: 2px; padding-left: 5px; width: 450px; margin-top: 5px; font-family: calibri; font-size: 11px; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; text-align: justify; letters-spacing: 2px;]revolutionaries wait, for my head on a silver plate[/style][style=background-color: #111111; padding: 5px; width: 447px; opacity: 0.7; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; color: #5b5b5b; height: 300px; overflow: auto;]There was no doubt the boy was already to late to save. Gerrard had seen it happen, confused and bewildered. He stepped back, staggering, The boy seemed to be more shocked than Gerrard was, who was used to seeing death at the most unexpected times. Wasaki obviously wasn’t as ‘street wise’ as he had proclaimed in his class, a move that had almost gotten his head caved in. Gerrard hated those sorts of comments, and tried to let them simply pass but they always built up inside until he got home and he wrecked the flat. Without Alice to calm him down he always made a mess of everything. The murderer, whoever it had been, had vanished in the crowd and he wouldn’t even bother wasting his time trying to track him down. They were long gone, but it obvious that they would strike again, and soon. Gerrard could tell from the amount of blood it had been with a knife, Gerrard could see it as he stepped closer, Ashley Shaw’s bunny curled up in her dying master’s arms. The animal was terrified and panicky, it looked at Gerrard and squeaked, bouncing towards the taller man and sitting on his foot, it’s ear twitching. It backed up slightly into his leg and then began weaving in and out of his legs like it had done before with Ashley Shaw when the boy had been alive. Gerrard blinked, looking at the ball of fur with a strange surprise. He looked to Ashley the boy was gone now. He never had a chance, the best thing he could do was stay vigilant. He scooped up the bunny, it curled into him and licked his face before Gerrard pressed Locco’s nose lightly. The bunny stopped and slumped, suddenly weight a lot more than previous. Gerrard kneeled next to Ashley and looked at Wasaki. Gerrard shut Ashley’s dead eyes, brushing his hair away from his doll face. It was as if a single heavy touch and he would shatter into a million little pieces. He looked up and caught Wasaki’s eyes. The boy looked close to tears. Perhaps he wasn’t as part of ‘da hood’ as he had once thought. Gerrard cupped Ashley’s head in his hands, retaining eye contact with Wasaki. “I’ve seen so many people die, out in Afghanistan. Trust me, you’ll never get used to it.”[/style][style=background-color: #414141; color: #000000; padding: 2px; padding-right: 5px; width: 450px; font-family: calibri; font-size: 11px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 10px 10px; border-radius: 0px 0px 10px 10px; text-align: right; letters-spacing: 2px;]just a puppet on a lonely string, oh who would ever want to be king[/style][style=font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; background-color: #000000; text-align: center; margin-top: 5px; color: #464646]♙notes: place in some notes~;[/style] credit to ZETTA! of LS & BTN |
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Post by wasaki on Nov 21, 2011 3:53:23 GMT -5
He hadn’t been aware that Gerard had shown up. He wasn’t all that sure whether to throw up his sardonic shield of ruthless candor or simply allow himself and his worries be washed upon the shore-like shoulders of his makeshift sensei for all intents and purposes. The latter option seemed so gratifying, it beckoned to him like a sirens call, gently pulling at his braids, drawing on the strings of his hoodie; he had only to give in a little and he could collapse happily with the comfort that he’d placed his fate in the hands of an adult.
However…something stopped him. He only held the gaze of those deep eyes. Eyes that removed any possibility of him breaking away and shrugging off whatever else came of their brief connection, “I’ve seen so many people die, out in Afghanistan. Trust me, you’ll never get used to it.”
It was a grave message and Wasaki felt the Halloween night’s blade like winds more surreally than he’d ever felt them before. He wasn’t sure of it, but he was certain he’d seen a skeletal figure’s shadow in the ground, dangling about him with a maniacal smile and a blood crusted blade that was too blunt to get the job done in one go. As if preparing a lamb for a slaughter could feel bony fingers clench firmly at his throat making it almost impossible to breath and his breath caught for that single moment of deathly silence as he imagined what the blade would feel like going into his spinal column. Once…
Twice…
Thrice…
He’d be dead by then, he hoped. NO!! he howled within himself. His love of life, his life beat away any remnants of the specter he’d seen allowing sweet oxygen to flow into his lungs once more. The respiratory factories hungrily sucked in the gas as if it had its first doses of a narcotic do addictive even scent drove its addicts insane. All this happened internally of course. On the outside all Gerard would see was how haggard the child had become in the span of sixty seconds, the gauntness of his eyes, and the slump of his shoulders as he turned away. Even that natural swagger that had always been about him, the defiant air that had made him a small hellion to teach had all, but dissolved by the time Wasaki had strode away from his professor—his mind telling him to turn back, while his heart reminding him never to trust an adult again. He was cold inside. Chunks of ice plummeted into the pits of his stomach as he drew up close to the gothic girl who eyed him warily; she was afraid he was unstable after what he’d seen.
Eye to eye they stared for one moment before he nodded his head and continued past her to the where the carousel ride had gone completely forgotten. Darkness’s henchmen loomed ominously around, each one wielding their own respective ghastly devices of maliciousness—all of them ready to do evil if the need arose, but Wasaki clamped his jaw down making the muscle jump rigidly through his cheek. No such thing as ghosts and phantoms. Ain’t nobody, but a scary as bitch… he told himself as he sagged against a nearby wall.
Muscles tight and emotionally exhausted he gathered himself so that he could face Gerard again. Maybe together with the aid of someone smarter than him, he’d be able to figure out this mystery before he found his own back shredded open like holiday beast of burden.
[[OOC: Hey Morri, the post for this one had Wasaki walking away from everyone so he wasn’t next to Ashley, but I just made it work since it was minor detail. Of course he ended up walking away from everyone this time too…]]
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Post by Rocton on Nov 26, 2011 15:38:58 GMT -5
When things go wrong, it's never a matter of the slow creeping danger approaching closer and closer.
When things wrong, it goes from 0% to 500% in a single gut wrenching moment of horror unlike anything else.
He had been too late, too caught up in the moment of happiness, too accustomed to the peaceful atmosphere of Death city, and never anticipating anything like this happening quite so soon.
The meister had pushed through the crowd early enough to catch a glimpse of Ashley's lifeless body and turned away before his emotions got the best of him.
Between thoughts of shame,loss, and wishing only for vengeance, Rocton was going mad. He needed to be alone and with a killer still on the loose, now as no time for mourning.
Stumbling along, he managed to find a nice dark corner next to a gate to a coaster and sat down to review his options. At this point, two through processes had begun to forge in his mind. One of them merely wished to find the villain, to shred him to bits slowly, to tear apart his flesh and pour acid on the exposed innards, to break every bone in their fingers and hand with a sledgehammer, to cut into their bone marrow with a rusty scalpel and drive a railroad spike into, to cause as much pain as physically possible. The other side merely wished to be rid of all of it, to be left alone in silence, in failure.
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Post by wasaki on Dec 8, 2011 9:55:18 GMT -5
Cold seeped in more noticeably as silence clung to the winds. Fear turned perfectly logical people in raving loons jostling others simply for the sake of knowing that they lived another moment. Of course the infectious disease spread in its uncouth manner, numbing the higher brain functions until even one look at the deceased Shibusen student sent a boy, girl, mother or father into deluded state of confusion. Wasaki edged away from a small pack that slowly falling apart mentally as he had nearly done—this time he couldn’t sneer and call them ‘weak-minded fools’. Fear was a snake that coiled first around the heart before wrapping its scales around your muscles, the largest one being the brain came last.
Both fists tightened in his coat pocket as he nestled his chin deeper into the collar of his coat. He had beaten fear. No matter how dreadful it was, he had not given into the notion of panicking mindlessly; he had already been through too much and his pride was a prod which never failed to draw him away from such simpering notions. So while he did not judge the lesser people for falling into their state of emotional disarray, he did not express empathy either. When he became stronger he would look back on such things and simply mock the victims and all the bystanders mourning the loss of a life for being too weak to defend it.
“I don’t have to watch this…” he muttered as he drew himself from the unsightly display of human frailty. He needed to find Gerard, but the man seemed to have disappeared already. That didn’t make sense since the body of the boy—the roundness and innocence of those eyes bore into his thoughts another time and he felt as if he would become sick. “It was my first time seeing someone die too.” said a voice behind him. Scowling over his shoulder he eyed the goth venomously. How dare she bring his fear to the forefront like that? She didn’t know him…none of them knew him. Except maybe Gerard, but that professor was half-insane anyway.
Shrugging his response he willed her to simply take the hint and leave. Unable to bring himself to just walk away, he resigned to watching the not-quite-so-brainless reactions of others while still casting about for that pear shaped head belonging to the Cockney he’d come to put more faith in than he was willing to admit. It was this aimless and admittedly hopeless search that found him a lone wolf. A boy or rather a man by the matured looks of him turned away from the ghastly scene of a fallen youth, cut down before being woven into something worth making. Unlike the others though Wasaki felt a…presence. It wasn’t a paranormal sensing or even the experienced estimation of an expert. Rather there was simply a calling from the solo observer; even with his back turned Wasaki could tell that this person had power. Maybe even more than Gerard did.
“If you need to talk to someone I—” the girl prattled on, but Wasaki had already taken off in a quick stride towards this new individual. There was just something that told urged him to at least lock eyes with this individual once and following that instinct alone he covered the space between them and placed a gentle hand on the turned back of the stranger,
“I can tell you’re strong. Wanna do something about this murder?” he asked with stone-faced seriousness. It wasn’t his style to seek help or even lend even more moderately complimenting sentiments, but neither had been any of the sort; he was simply wondering whether someone else wanted to beat this sick fiend’s brains out as badly as he did. [[OOC: The person that Wasaki is was referring to and talking to at the end is Rocton Barret]]
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Eva Liu
Advanced Member
}}Kishin Egg Souls{0} Human Souls{0} Witch Souls{0} Points{1703}
Now that it's raining more than ever.
Posts: 149
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Post by Eva Liu on Dec 9, 2011 15:42:17 GMT -5
“it’s that kid Ashley” “u kno, the guy with big eyes and looks like a little kid” “a teacher’s there too” “stay safe, ok?”
Collecting herself, the girl had a few choice words for the delirious crush she had fought her way out of. "Dumb animals, pissing your pants! What, one person dies so you gotta trample everyone else too?" she shouted in their general direction. She gave a cursory glance to her phone before shoving it a bit too hastily into her purse. The chill air numbed her stepped-on toes and raised gooseflesh on her bare arms- or was it the fear tingling along her spine that she refused to acknowledge? The lightning strike of recognition of the victim left her feeling drained. She hadn’t known him personally, only seen him in the hallways in between class, but the thin degree of separation between the unfortunate victim and herself was shredded beyond hope as though with the killer’s own blade. A Shibusen student, felled in a carnival of all places.
Eva’s hands shook as she withdrew the camera and aimed it at the crowd she had just chastised. She’d spent most of the night looking through the world via her camera’s LCD display, and that’s how she’d continue doing it. If she were in the frame of mind to, she might have noticed and waxed poetic, as much as she could anyhow, as to how it enforced a separation between herself and the fear and danger that was fast encroaching upon her, a separation the murder had done away with. Maybe even a contemporary twist on youthful defiance of death. All she really knew was to take snapshots of the chaos in hopes of distracting herself with the self-appointed task. Somehow, the dazzling lights no longer held the same childish delight.
Unbeknownst to her, she was moving in the exact opposite direction of two of her classmates. She had even caught one of their grim, determined faces on the camera, though so dissociated was Eva that she had not realized what drove her to take the shots besides the peculiar expression of suppressed rage, grief, or some combination of both. It was entirely different from the helplessness that drove the other carnival-goers to act like so many lemmings. She’d seen that behavior before, in an animated movie with rabbits mauling one another to escape from gas-filled underground tunnels. The fear that was spreading was no less toxic.
She saw the body on the screen before looking up and taking in the sight with her own two eyes. It was just a glimpse of a boy laying prone on the ground, seen in the small spaces between the shifting bodies of the spectators gathered around him. A limb here, a flash of red there. Entranced but still disbelieving, she edged further still with her camera held out. "Oh shi-" the girl exclaimed, quickly pressing the back of her hand against her lips to prevent herself from saying anything more. She didn't dare take a picture of him, not his faded, glassy eyes nor his blood soaked shirt. Eva turned her head away, unable to look any further at the victim.
Desperate for another distraction, the demon weapon approached the blue haired boy standing closest to Ashley. Yes, she recognized him too from school, a fellow EAT class student. What was his name? R, r, it started with an R. "Rick," she squeaked out. "I'm Eva, from the cafe? 'I'm not a lesbian,' remember?" she laughed weakly. She pointed to the wig. "I'm wearing a costume right now, that's why." Denial, that's the way to go.
"W-We're the Shibusen students, right? So we need to fix this."
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Post by Rick Fader on Dec 9, 2011 20:01:13 GMT -5
"We'll get the cocksucker who did this, I fuckin' promise. . .", he muttered to the corpse. While alarmed, his demeanor was a much calmer one than most of the attendees. Perhaps it was the fact that he had seen dead bodies before, many of them subjected to much grislier fates than poor Ash. Or maybe is was the fact that Rick naturally wasn't so phased by blood, gore, and death. But the fact that it was someone pretty close to him, and a comrade that got to him. He hadn't felt this bad about someone's death since Officer Beck's sacrifice in Detroit.
Rick's mourning was broken by a familiar voice. The Demon Chair turned to face the voice, semi-recognizing the girl as Eva, the one he met in the Digital Bean. Of course, she was in a different geddup than before. "Right, I remember you. . .", he said nonchalantly, taking one look at Ashley's stiff before getting back up onto his feet.
Rick responded to her statement with a serious nod. "Fuck yeah. . . this fuckhead killed one of our own, they will fucking pay. . .", he stated coldly. "But just for the sake of safety, let's stay in groups. I passed some of the others on the way, we should probably make our way to them. If not, we should at least find some more people, to at least account for those who aren't in a group. . .", he continued.
He would keep his eye on Eva, even if she was his safety card. For one, he wouldn't let her get killed, assuming she wasn't the killer. And if she was the killer, he didn't want her to stab him in the back. Of course, he wasn't going to tell her that, at least not the latter.
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Eva Liu
Advanced Member
}}Kishin Egg Souls{0} Human Souls{0} Witch Souls{0} Points{1703}
Now that it's raining more than ever.
Posts: 149
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Post by Eva Liu on Dec 18, 2011 17:41:27 GMT -5
That fragile, porcelain body with its spindly limbs- that's all that was, an especially delicate marionette that someone had thoughtlessly left in a heap on the ground. That flawless face had a too perfect smile that had to have been painted on. Maybe at just the right angle, its inlaid green glass eyes might shine with that certain flicker they were sorely lacking. "This fuckhead killed one of our own, they will fucking pay." Killed one of our own. The sticky dark liquid that stained his shirt and pooled out from under the abandoned puppet was- blood?
Blood, blood like the springy blocks of congealed pig’s blood for sale at the fresh meat section of a Chinese supermarket, blood like the metallic-tasting glop that slides into your throat during a bloody nose, yet not exactly the same in meaning. It didn't have the same mental pairing of tragedy and horror. The camera was now idle in her hand, as she could not try to distract herself once more without appearing callous to Rick. It was foolish to trust him so easily, to latch on so readily to a familiar face. She didn’t know him personally, and could barely call him an acquaintance, but a name attached to recognizable features was like a life-saving buoy to keep her from drowning in the fear that was already close to suffocating her. That was simply how Eva was, lost and helpless to a degree that infuriated even herself when presented with a wholly new situation. Only with his lead did she dare to act. Even so, the flapper girl was careful to keep pace with him and remain by his side, not too far ahead to be vulnerable to a sneak attack should he be the killer, and not too far behind to lose him in the crowd.
Eva stayed quiet as the pair made their way back to the front entrance of the carnival, for what was there to say? Idle chatter was entirely inappropriate, and she had few suggestions to give. That is, until they stumbled upon two other Shibusen students.
“That’s Rocton, over there. And- who’s standing next to him?” She had no name for this face, but it was one she was hardly happy to see. Eva was ready to put aside the less than ideal circumstances of their first meeting, completely forget it even happened for the sake of working together, until the red caught her eyes. The rusty red caked his hands and dried in patches on his shirt where it had been smeared on by contact. The dark substance she had so quickly looked away from found its way seeping back into her mind, first in the fixed image of it spread along the ground beneath the limp corpse and now covering an individual for whom the look was quite suitable- at least in her opinion. The blood of the helpless.
Her large brown eyes shamelessly focused on his hands and the stains on his shirt. There was no question as to why they narrowed as she adopted a hardened expression, no doubt as to the irrational thought that crossed her mind. She knew it didn’t irrevocably qualify him as the killer. No one would be stupid enough to put up that kind of act. The absurdity and audacity of slaying an innocent and approaching the victim’s partner without so much as bothering to wipe off the signs of the struggle was enough to give the African boy the benefit of the doubt. But everyone was thinking it anyways, not just her! Those hypocrites, they couldn’t criticize her for something they all were guilty of.
“You, you’ve got some nerve, you know?” she said with a finger pointed at Wasaki as she and Rick walked closer. ”You couldn’t even wash it off before going to his partner?”. There was still an opportunity for her to recover, but the gaffe had been made and Eva committed herself to following that line of irrational thinking and paranoia than flip flop. ”Don’t you think it’s a little too strange that someone dies and you’re standing right here covered in blood? I know what you're capable of!” It was an invitation, really, to demonstrate the anger and inclination towards violence that she associated him with, but that would just prove her point. She all but directly made the accusation that she now halfway convinced herself to believe in for sheer unwillingness to backtrack and admit a wrong. Eva turned to look at Rick and Rocton in expectation of their support.
((OOC: Just thought to bring in a little drama. Someone's gotta be the kinda nutso paranoid one, right?))
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