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Post by Judas on Jun 30, 2006 9:11:15 GMT 12
[The result of smashing my muse with a sledgehammer. Just something to keep me preoccupied really. And I don't think the title really has anything to do with the RP at all... No... Not really...]
The quick sound of a soft, careful click entered the hallway as a doorknob was very slowly, and very delicately turned. It was as if Kael was afraid that on the outside of the confines of his room lay a monster... Or some boring plebeian that had nothing better to do than to bore everybody else around him[or her]. Both of the two were about on the same level of dread for him either way so it didn't matter which was out there... Or both may not be out there at all. Twas better to be safe than sorry though. At least that's what everybody always said, and when that many people all said the same thing Kael usually assumed that meant they were right. That or brainwashed, but he wasn't going to dwell on the latter at the moment. That'd be far too confusing even for his complex and all the same simple mind. He was no genius but he certainly wasn't a fool either... Well, maybe maybe-not, it depended on the company really.
About five minutes after the beginning of the door-opening ritual, it was finished. Poking his head out of the doorway, the teenager stole six glances left and right as if he was afraid he had missed something the first three times. Once he seemed satisfied with the result given, he grinned and pushed up his rimless glasses which had earlier looked as if they were threatening to fall off the bridge of his nose. He figured either his head had shrunk or his eyeglasses had always been just a little too big for him, sense they always seemed to want to fly off his face. Maybe someday they would grow a pair of legs, run away and attack some vampire or something. The boy grinned widely at this thought and snickered. That would be something alright:
Here lies 'The Crow' Death by mutant glasses
Stepping into the hallway and consequently into sight as well, Kael clicked his tongue as he quietly watched a moth flutter toward the dim, flickering yellow light above him. Reaching up his hand and meticulously chasing the bug into his palm[once it had gotten low enough to the ground that is] the young man sheltered the small gray creature in his hands. He'd let it go outside. He didn't want any more dead moths outside his door anyway. Thus he proceeded down the dingy gray hallways to a more open area. Or at least a window, a window would be good. Even better would be the roof.
Gah... Hair in his face. Greasy black hair in his face to be more exact. He needed to wash it or something... badly. A shower, rain... Heck, even dunking his head in sewer water might do him some good at this point. And he needed to shave too if he could somehow manage it. Not that he wanted to look more feminine than he already did but the stubble was getting somewhat annoying. Oh horrible negative thoughts, he needed something to lighten the mood, the monotone walls weren't helping the bleak outlook either. So, like all good irritating optimists, he started to whistle, pathetic as his whistling skills may be. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but at least it was something. Grin forever present, he took lighthearted steps toward whatever the heck his destination was. He didn't really need to know where he was going anyway, just where he had already been.
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Post by Deadeye on Jul 13, 2006 17:09:19 GMT 12
Johnathan "Deadeye" Remington had only just joined The Cigarettes about a month ago. Though, one starts to lose track of time in this hellhole of a city. It certainly was an experience...traveling all the way to "New Pork". He was lucky to even be alive...fuckin' Vampires. Those psychopaths are fuckin' nuts. Crazy as hell...but they were very satisfying victims. Only a few days ago some crazy-ass kids tried to jump him...they had red hand prints over their faces. They weren't any actual rank and it was probably face paint. Pansy-ass bastards. John only assumed they were going to try and make it in good with the Vampire "Mistress". Dropped both of 'em dead with two shots between the eyes. Serves 'em right. Fuckin' vamps.
John rubbed the smudge off of the barrel of his Colt .45 with a piece of cloth he had found. Probably from one of those white flags hangin' everywhere. Even though he hated his Grandfather right now, he still respected his weaponry. Or what used to be his weaponry. John always admired the old Civil War revolver. It was a fine piece of iron...shoots true and could stop any mother-fucker in their tracks with one shot, or at least that's what his grandfather always told him. But John found that out on his own when he killed those two "Vampires".
Deadeye looked to his right and then to his left. He was in the middle of the fuckin' hallway, cleanin' his revolver. In the middle of the fuckin' hallway.
John blew off any residue on the barrel of his gun and quickly holstered it in his gun belt. He took his hat, which had been sitting next to him for a good half hour, and shoved it on top of his head. A belch was allowed to release itself from his bowels before he stood up and straightened out his back. The one thing he did miss about Texas, besides the nice warm bed, clean clothing, showers, and girls, was the gym. He was getting stiff out here in New Pork and it bugged the hell outta him.
Fuckin' Vampires... John started to walk down the hallway, not really headed in any particular direction...although it would be nice to finally clean out that old Henry Big Boy. That was his Grandpappy's too. Fuckin' bastard...fuckin' Vampires. He knew he couldn't go back home...but that didn't bother him none. If this was to be his destiny, well then bring it on.
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Post by Judas on Jul 14, 2006 8:28:28 GMT 12
[Oi. One day I'll uh... Make up the long wait and horrible outcome up to you... Hopefully... >.>]
The whole nine yards.
It was something Kael’s father used to say. All the time. Why the phrase had suddenly manifested itself in the young man’s mind wasn’t to important, and well… He didn’t really care either. The point was it was there for a second, and furthermore he could recall a time when he was about four, in school, repeating it all day long even in situations it most definitely did not apply to. Why he had done it was simple. Like any good and pre-pubertal son, he wanted to be just like his dad. And of course, once he hit his teenage years, acne, and hormones, it was the last thing he wanted. Oh well, not like it mattered anymore. Cheerless tope hallways and an annoying flickering thing coming from most light bulbs? Yeah… Probably didn’t matter anymore. All the same, the lights doubtlessly weren’t half as irritating as the young man’s pathetic attempt as whistling.
The gray little moth fluttered violently in Kael’s cupped hands, and damn! It tickled too. He ignored it for the most part, although through his whistling he couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle and thus the whistle came out worse than it already had been to begin with. One could easily compare the noise [If it could be considered a noise.] to a squirrel trapped in a cardboard box, but either way nobody was out here anyway and – Oh wait. Somebody was out here. Oh darn, his ears had probably been already tormented by the fellow’s repulsive… Well… Was is whistling, piping, shrieking or wheezing? It was hard to say. Of course, Judas didn’t realize quite how horrible his ‘joy-spreading’ was coming out; he was just simply so very thrilled to see somebody else up and about. It gave him hope that all of the Cigarettes weren’t antisocial freaks.
Unfortunately, just because Deadeye was walking about just like he was, Judas went ahead and assumed that meant that he was up for a good, animated conversation about something like… Say… Disney. Or any other sickeningly happy, radioactive substance complete with a frozen head. He didn’t even consider that just maybe Deadeye was grumbling because he was in a bitter mood. Thus, Kael went ahead and did his thing, greeting ‘what’s-his-face.’ Now if only he could remember the kid’s name.
“Helloo-oooo there!” The enthusiast called out to John, flashing a quirky grin in his direction and coincidently not at all looking where he was going. As the upbeat teen went on adjusting his glasses with his wrists [Since his hands were still cupped and therefore out of commission unless he wanted Mr. Moth to fly away.] he suddenly was stopped dead by a tall, hard, and immovable or impassable object. Startled and all together thrown off by the sudden manifestation, the boy stumbled backwards, forgetting about the moth so that he could press his palm to his throbbing head.
Omf. Wall.
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Post by Deadeye on Jul 14, 2006 8:44:48 GMT 12
John had decided that his rifle needed cleaning and, bygod, he intended to clean it. Without any interruptions. Oh hell.
He heard footsteps coming from the direction he was headed in...as well as a horrible screach/whistling noise. John frowned slightly as the ruckus approached.
The horrid noise was haulted when...Oh what the hell was the kid's name...? It didn't matter. The kid said an annoyingly enthusiastic 'Hello' before smacking into a wall. What a dumb fu.ck... At least he wasn't trying to whistle anymore.
"You OK, kid?" John asked, trying not to seem too annoyed, but he never was good at acting. Though he was slightly annoyed, John really wanted to know if the kid was alright.
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Post by Judas on Jul 14, 2006 18:41:52 GMT 12
If Judas had decided to fret over the hit to his forehead it would’ve hurt a lot worse. The psychosomatic symptoms he would then encounter would be simply horrible for his condition, which at this point in time lay dead on the border of bad and worse. That much-hated headache feeling would pulse through him rhythmically getting worse with every stroke. Throbbing forces of imagined pain [That would, unfortunately, actually hurt.] would crash hard upon the empty shores of his cranium. So it’s a very good thing indeed that the young man brushed it off nonchalantly just as he did everything else. Of course such careless actions would probably come back to haunt him, but right now he didn’t worry about that either. Come to think of it, he most likely would never nag himself about that at all, not even if it was just walking through the door to happily come back to bedevil him and his sunny disposition. Judas, at the moment, considered himself a firm Fatalist, and he’d stick to that pledge… Maybe until tomorrow or the next day. All the same, he was seldom found beside himself over anything trivial or major.
After pressing the palm of his hand to his head for a good thirty seconds, the monomaniac seemed to remember the moth, and swerved his gaze upward only to find it had taken up a nice little space on the wall behind the other boy. He frowned and would’ve moved to get it had ‘what’s-his-face’ not spoken. A toothy grin was flashed towards the other teen on Kael’s part before he laughed freely, not embarrassed at all and acting as if he didn’t just slam into a wall while playing the part of the fool.
“Dandy!” The fake brunette cheered enthusiastically although if it didn’t already, the red swelling bump on his forehead most certainly should have contradicted the young man’s reply in every way thought possible.
Yeah... It would hurt in the morning...
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Post by Deadeye on Jul 15, 2006 7:57:04 GMT 12
Fuckin' amazing. Damn kid was way too happy sounding for John's taste. Why the hell was the fucktard so happy in the first place? This place wasn't happy at all. This was a fuckin' hell on Earth. It wasn't right for someone to be so fuckin' jolly. 'Specially when he just walked into a fuckin' wall like a dumb-ass.
"Good," John said before turning around and heading in the opposite direction. The kid said he was 'dandy'. Dandy his ass. That kid would be feelin' that sooner or later.
But John didn't care anymore. If the kid said he was fine, well then that's fine. All he wanted to do now was clean his guns and head out to kill him some Vampires. He loved fightin' those crazy sonsabitches.
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Post by Judas on Jul 16, 2006 6:23:58 GMT 12
Kael blinked awkwardly at the other boy’s steady departure, not seeming to grasp the idea that he was leaving and most likely because Kael irritated him with his overly cheery disposition. At this point in time most people with even a smidgen of common sense would conjure up a thought along the lines of ‘Oh well, he’s leaving. Nothing I can do about it, I might as well stop irritating him and get out of his way’. Unfortunately for John, Judas’ levels of common sense were often doubted and believed to be sadly lacking. Most of the time the general population was right in this assumption, although at other times the fake brunette usually always found a way to pull through and redeem himself of his foolishness for a while before breaking into his habit of being a goof again.
“Wait… Where are you going? Dude, wait up!” Kael called after the ‘soon-to-be’ unfortunate victim of his optimism. He straightened up and rose to his full height [Which all in all wasn’t too impressive.] before scampering after the other boy, grin still present on his features. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and gave the quite apparently annoyed teen a charming smile, and a goofy wink.
“Dude… You’ll learn you can’t get rid of me that easily.” Kael joked with a whimsical looking expression. “‘Sides. I’ve got so much to teach you pessimistic, anti-social, and angsty masses. It be just cruel if I left right away.” Judas laughed, not at all fazed by John’s lack of words. The optimist then patted the ‘pessimist’s’ shoulder comfortingly in a teasing manner, throwing him a large, toothy grin – the ones the dentists make you do.
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Post by Deadeye on Jul 16, 2006 6:35:10 GMT 12
John felt the light pat of the kid's hand on his shoulder. He suddenly felt an immense desire to grab his revolver and pistol whip the kid to hell. No. Nooo no. That'd be bad and quite distasteful, even for John. The kid was only trying to be friendly and seemed nice enough. Then again, John wasn't much into 'nice'. Deadeye liked to brawl and wrestle. His friends, though not very high in number, would always cuss at each other then fight and eventually make up and shoot some targets or grab a beer. John missed beer and wrastlin'. Aah fuckin' vamps...
"What the hell do you think yer doin'?" Deadeye raised an eyebrow and looked down at the kid walking next to him. Even his walk was too goddamn optimistic. If there was ever a happy way to walk, this would have been it. "What's to teach? There ain't much for teachin' in this place. I know all I need to know, runt. Bet I could teach you somethin', though."
An idea popped into John's idea. Maybe if he taught the kid how to shoot pretty good, he'd get off his back. He'd let the kid shoot a couple of empty cans or bottles that were laying around, teach him how to load it. Maybe they'd even become frie-no. Didn't wanna rush into anything with THAT kid.
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Post by Judas on Jul 16, 2006 7:26:44 GMT 12
Judas glanced back at John, listened intently, blinked, and then proceeded to laugh at what the other boy had just said. Well… Truth be told it was more of a low chuckle than an actual laugh, and the amusement was more to himself although that didn’t necessarily mean that Kael took strong measures to hide it. Actually, he was quite open with the fact that in someway, somehow, he found John’s part of the conversation slightly entertaining. Only slightly though, not a lot. If he had found it immensely comical then he would be dying on the floor from loud bursts of laughter and a lack of air. Currently he wasn’t. Therefore it was a pretty good sign that no, Kael did not find it immensely comical indeed.
Once the fool seemed to recover from his soft amusement, he glanced back up at John, grinning – as would be expected of him. What’s to teach, eh? Well that was easy. He could teach the other boy a whole lot of things really. But for the time being the fake brunette was far to lazy, and frankly too forgetful to list them all so he settled on one.
“Well,” He began somewhat melodramatically. He held up his right index finger, in an attempt at imitating his fourth grade teacher. “Proper English for one.” And he finished wryly while a soft, gentle smile was playing upon his lips at the same time. Contradictory. Kael was often like that. It was funny how many times his tone disagreed with his expression. In any case, it was quite clear that the optimist was poking fun at the other boy’s charming use of grammar in his speech patterns.
Thin lips quirked upward at the corners to form a smirk as Judas ran a hand through his greasy, black hair to get the annoying, dark locks away from his face. “Oh, I’m sure you could teach me something, dude.” He agreed full-heartedly, a grin breaking out from the former smirk. “But there’s no saying that I won’t already know what you teach me.”
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Post by Deadeye on Jul 16, 2006 16:14:55 GMT 12
John chuckled to himself when he heard the kid's comment, but not because it was funny. It was more of that kind of laugh when someone is too sure of themself and you know that they're wrong. Yeah. Kid was wrong. Oh damn, he hoped this kid had other friends because John wasn't sure if he could take very much of this. John was rough, gruff, mean, and cursed the hell outta everything. This kid was small, at least two years younger than John, way too happy, and used "perfect grammar". It was distgusting.
"Can you shoot between the eyes of a rabbit a mile away with a rifle, no scope?" John questioned his fellow tribesman. At this point, John was just acting high and might and showing off. "I can. If you can't, I'll learn ya to. If you can, you're a goddamn liar."
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Post by Judas on Jul 17, 2006 7:21:50 GMT 12
Kael glanced back at the older boy, eyebrows raised slightly in brief curiosity on the subject he had just so kindly put in to their conversation. Their conversation, which until a few moments ago was sadly lacking the elder’s participation. Come to think of it, he might have said more words just now to Judas than he had throughout their entire discussion so far. Eh… At least that meant they were getting somewhere. So Judas could rightfully view the sudden burst in vocal techniques on John’s part, all in all, productive. However, even if it hadn’t been the fool would still have probably found a way to make it so. It was just one more thing for him to act zippy about in any case.
Oh yes, Kael was quite cheery with John’s slow progression out of the sociopath's pit of doom, but it was the question that got him. He might have been able to use a switchblade, at least a little bit, but he had little to no experience with guns. The chances of him being able to do said action were slim to none and slim just took the last train home. Even when the question was thrown at him the teen found no point in lying about it though, so he gave John a slipshod shrug and answered.
“Ehh – No.” The fake brunette replied and flashed a grin. “But I’m quite content with myself by knowing that most people can’t do that.” He ran his tongue over his teeth after he pointed afore mentioned fact out, and delivered a sincere smile to the world. “Aside from that,” he continued, “I would never shoot a cute little rabbit unless I absolutely had to… But yeah… I’d be willing to learn if you'd be willing to waste your bullets on my case because chances are that one day I’m probably going to absolutely have to.” He finished, and got this cloudy look in his eye.
And then he frowned a bit.
[*pets Judas*]
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Post by Deadeye on Jul 17, 2006 17:30:26 GMT 12
John thought he would surely gag when the kid said "cute little rabbit". Not only was the kid too fuckin' jolly, he was a pansy, too. John hadn't even thought of rabbits as cute. Ever. They were always his targets when he was growing up. His grandpa would always tell him 'that if he didn't bring in six hares by six o'clock, he wouldn't be gettin' any rabbit-stew.' Rabbit stew. Things that make ya go bbbleaaah.
John always hit his target. Never wasted ammo. Then again, he always carried more than enough, just in case there was a wind that day...or his sights were messed up. John never wasted ammo. Ever. If that kid was going to learn how to shoot, he wouldn't waste ammo. If the kid shot and missed, John would make him find the bullet and stick it in the target, whether that be a can or an armed enemy. Ammo would never be wasted. Then again, John always did have more than enough.
"Yer lucky my grand pappy owned a gun-shop, kid, John started, not even lookin' at the damn kid. "I just so happen to have two cases of ten one-hundred round boxes for rifle ammo. I got three cases of ten sixty round boxes for my Peacemaker. I ain't wastin' nothin."
John snickered a bit at the kid's enthusiasm. At least the kid was willing to let John teach him. That, John liked. So long as he asked no questions and stuck to his guns (hardy har har har), everything would go smoothly.
[NOTE: I have no idea how much ammo are in cases, but I do know my dad has a 100 rd box of .22 rifle ammo, so I'm just goin' with that.]
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Post by Judas on Jul 18, 2006 13:59:07 GMT 12
[Err -- I don't know anything about guns either(and I'm too lazy to research them) so you have nothing to worry about. >.>]
Kael had never heard words that sounded so much like gibberish to him in his entire life. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Three occasions clearly exceeded this one. The first was when he was six, and his baby sister was two – still unable to talk. She would spurt out blubbering undecipherable to man. However, much to Kael’s chagrin, she never ever said anything even closely sounding like ‘goo-goo ga-ga’. The second occasion was in the fourth grade, when he had the terrible misfortune of receiving Mrs. Ballantyne as a teacher. It wasn’t that she was a bad teacher, or particularly strict or mean but she had an extremely heavy Cajun accent and thus nobody in the class could make out a word that she said. The third occasion was when Kael and his younger sister were taking a plane to Denver so that they could go to their great uncle's funeral. The death had come as a shock and the two’s parents had been away on vacation in Las Vegas when they got the news. They ordered their children two plane tickets to get to Denver, and then drove there themselves to meet up with the kids when they arrived. Furthermore Kael had been seated near a Catholic woman who had the honor of attending her first flight that day. Needless to say she was scared to death and quite loudly muttering some prayers, which were all utter nonsense to Kael(because they were Catholic). Later in the flight when he introduced himself to the woman though, he wisely told her that his name was Kael Smith, as opposed to the so greatly loved Iscariot.
The only experience Judas ever actually had in his entire lifespan with any type of gun was using a Paintball gun, and he doubted that actually counted as experience. If he was a few years younger he might’ve argued the case that he was quite well versed in the art of shooting things because he had fired a so called ‘gun’ before [Although even if the thought did come to him to debate that subject, it would have quickly been shot down by John's previous said gibberish that Kael didn’t understand one word of.]. However, at this point in time Judas was quite openly aware that a real firearm was nothing compared to the games he used to play with his friends. For one, if you shot somebody with a real firearm the red stain on his or her shirt wasn’t just a little blot of paint. Well… Come to think of it Kael never actually used red paint, he would use green that way when he hit one of his buddies he could point at them and accuse them of being a green-blooded alien sent to destroy all the coffee in the world. Something he considered to be a heinous crime. Pity, he rarely had any coffee now. His first month here in New Pork was actually more like caffeine withdraw than anything else.
Judas nodded receptively, and listened patiently to John, although he didn’t actually understand a word the older boy was saying. After he finished Kael gave him a quirked eyebrow and paused before he spoke, coincidentally he had actually forgotten to stop nodding. “I’m just going to assume that’s a lot of ammo, because I don’t know what the heck you just said man.” He confessed, giving John a lopsided grin. Rubbing his hands together in anticipation, he smiled broadly. “So, when do we start?” He inquired excitedly then seemed to mentally slap his forehead and corrected himself. “Scratch that. What’s your name again? Then when do we start?”
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Post by Deadeye on Jul 18, 2006 15:17:22 GMT 12
It had donned on John that neither of the two Cigarettes knew each other's names. What a hell of a thing. It really wasn't anyone's fault, Deadeye wasn't around very often, mostly scouting out and shooting small animals, and he had only seen the kid a couple of times before. It's almost strange how two people of the same tribe didn't know each other. At all. Helluva thing.
"Name's John, people call me Deadeye, John introduced himself. "I'll let you figure out why they call me that on your own. What's your name, partner?"
John actually started to warm up to the kid. He liked how interested the kid seemed in shooting. He could tell the kid wanted to. He could also tell that the kid had zero experience with a firearm. That thought meant one thing to John. The world was goin' to hell.
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Post by Judas on Jul 19, 2006 12:51:17 GMT 12
John. Jonathan? John-Boy? Jim? Johnny? Johnny. Yes, Johnny. Johnny was good.
Kael had always had this unusual and frankly annoying habit of calling his friends by nicknames that you would call a toddler simply because they were little and it was cute. John sounded far too old for Judas’ liking, so he had already promptly decided Johnny would be so much better. It wasn’t as much as that Kael preferred Johnny to John. However, he just knew somewhere deep down in that skull of his that, if nothing else, it would most likely piss Deadeye off. Therefore, there was all the more reason to do it. Teasing people was the little fun that the fake brunette received here in New Pork, and he figured that he deserved something for coming all the way out here to fetch and protect a person who wasn’t even in his own family, only to find she had backed out on coming and that he was thus stuck here in New Pork forever. Damn Karma.
Deadeye. What kind of name was Deadeye anyway? It made Kael feel better about his own alias, even though it gave every single angsty Cigarette the right to blame him for killing Jesus and thus throwing the world into turmoil. Funny, Kael didn’t recall killing anybody with a soft, angelic glow surrounding their very being. Unless that Wildcat from a month ago, who had snarled and launched herself at him [assumingly aiming for his pretty little throat] with a razor had been the reincarnation of Christ, but Judas had always been under the impression that the Lord and Savior wasn’t so… Feral, and frankly scantly dressed [Modesty is a virtue].
“Kael Iscariot. Charmed to meet you, Johnny.” The fool grinned, flicking away a lock of hair that had somehow gotten in front of his eye and behind his glasses. Bloody hair was possessed. “I killed Jesus.” He teased, allowing a small chuckle to emerge from the back of his throat.
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Post by Deadeye on Jul 19, 2006 17:30:02 GMT 12
John quirked an eyebrow up and glared down at Judas. Johnny?? JOHNNY?!?! No. No way. He didn't just call him Johnny...did he? John despised the name Johnny. His father had called him Johnny before he moved in with his Grandpa. And John hated his father. So, naturally, he hated being called Johnny. End of story.
"What did you call me? John moved his hand to seize Judas by the neck of his shirt. "It's either John or Deadeye. Not Johnny. Not any other crazy-ass name. John or Deadeye, you pick. End of story."
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Post by Judas on Jul 20, 2006 8:13:54 GMT 12
Even despite Kael’s precarious position at the moment, which seemed to be just a few irks behind John’s fist, he was in quite a chipper disposure. His roseate outlook was as blithe and caustically cheerful as ever, and although this was a slight curveball, it really shouldn’t have been all that astounding. For one, most people surprised themselves by acting stupid in a situation such as this one. They would loose their head and conjure up the worst things to say at the worst possible moment. Sometimes even the most collected of people would become headstrong and loose all tact. The only difference from these situations and Judas’ was that his nonsensical glee wasn’t… Well… Quite as shocking. Logically his high-spirited viewpoint got predictable after a while. All the same, he himself never did.
So that’s how the scene was laid out. Kael had uttered something particularly dense [as usual] and wound up being threatened by this… Tall gunslinger. Not exactly the first thing on Judas’ things-to-do list but oh well, he’d just have to skip around and mess up the order a tiny bit. Therefore, seemingly to lighten the mood, the teenager grinned broadly and chuckled [Which in any case would probably only intensify the situation but it was far too late to take that little snicker back now.]
At this point Judas wasn’t entirely sure of his choice of action next, what with John probably being on the verge of shooting him up all to hell. He was certain, however, that he was going to something. And while although that wasn’t a lot so far, it was still something in any case. So to stall, the half-sized seventeen year old just grinned at the other boy for a long while. Just the same goofy grin, and suddenly, as an epiphany whacked the optimist in the head, he gave a goofy wink to match.
Kael smiled mischievously, obviously with no intention of complying with Deadeye’s request. “Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny…” He chanted over and over. He held back a laugh as he continued with what was to be expected of a nonchalant being like him. Yes, he had absolutely no intention of doing what the older boy told him to. And apparently, he had no intention of living very long either.
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Post by Deadeye on Jul 25, 2006 16:48:17 GMT 12
John sneered at the smaller kid's words. Johnny. Kid was a comedian, apparently. Too bad John wasn't a fan of comedy. Damn shame really. He was just startin' to like the kid. Now he had to go and get stupid. Damn shame.
"Think yer funny, huh?" John stared at Judas...menacingly. Not that his face expression had changed that drastically, John usually had a rather menacing look on his face. Somethin' was always so fuckin' dumb...there was always somethin' for him to be mad at. "I don't think yer very funny. In fact, if you like yer arms, you best shut yer yellah trap."
Yes. John intended to actually rip the kid's arms off. Big deal. He's blown the head off of another human being before. Two in fact. But can you really count them as human? They would have been lowly, especially for Vamp standards. They might as well have been rats. Or rabbits. Or some other insignificant creature that had fallen victim to the hot lead of John's iron throughout the years.
But this kid was different. He was a Cigarette. Fellow tribesman. And he was so small and enthusiastic. It was almost too hard to kill something that pitiful. Or at least mortally wound somethin' that pitiful. John decided ripping his arms off was a bad idea, but he didn't have to let the kid know that...did he?
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Post by Judas on Jul 28, 2006 5:21:30 GMT 12
Any sensible person might be petrified at this point. After all your arms were terribly important things, especially in this city. You couldn’t put up much of a fight, and more importantly, a defense with no arms unless you were a contortionist and a chiropodist. But the chances of both were rather slim and in any case Kael knew nothing about feet and if he tried to achieve some of the positions of contortionists he would most likely kill himself. Thus he was not either and therefore couldn’t very well be both. So if his arms were to… Be removed, then he would be about dead at that point unless he aimed to hold switchblades in his mouth. But best not to mention that notion as he might think it’s a good idea.
The fake brunette flashed a quirky looking and somewhat lopsided grin at the illiterate young fellow before him who seemed about ready to beat the goof to death and throw his mangled body into a meat grinder, and then proceed to laugh joyously. He calmly, and cheerfully adjusted his glasses, throwing a light-hearted wink at the other boy. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do but in any case it would sound bad for John if he decked Kael and told everybody it was because he was smiling. No… The fool imagined that wouldn’t go over too well. Fortunately it seemed that the gunslinger aimed to do more to Judas than just punch him, so should he loose a hand or foot or get a couple of legs broken and Deadeye said it was because he was smiling, then the older boy would be in an even worse position. So technically Kael was well protected, even though if John got punished for hurting the boy he would still have lost a hand or foot and gotten a couple of legs broken in any case and a few weeks in a cell wasn’t going to make the injuries go away.
“On the contrary dude,” Kael chirped, showing all his teeth. He would’ve said Johnny but he figured that there was no need to tighten the rope around his neck. “I’m just trying to break you of your nasty habit of snapping at whoever calls you Johnny. What will you do when your sweetheart calls you that, eh?”
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Post by Deadeye on Aug 7, 2006 16:51:47 GMT 12
Sweetheart. John's sweetheart. How could he have forgotten so quickly? The first month was complete worry, which is not a common trait with John. The city must have hardened him. Perhaps he had forced himself to supress any good memories of Texas, intending on making him not want to go back. Ever. Or maybe he had just plain forgotten. It happened a lot.
John stepped back a little, lowering his head. The memory of his sweetheart, Meredith, had finally returned. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her silky brown hair and vibrant blue eyes. John had a thing for brunettes. But Meredith was no ordinary brunette. John "Deadeye" Remington had loved this girl. And she did, indeed, call him Johnny. Maybe that was why he hated that goddamn word. Didn't wanna remember any reason to stay at home.
John let Judas go and stepped back a couple steps. He gently lowered the rim of his hat to cover his eyes and turned around. This kid was nice, but...John just didn't wanna remember his "sweetheart". So John started to walk away, intent on cleaning his guns.
[Sorry for the crummy post...I lack inspiration currently but, figured I should post so I can stay active. Maybe I need another char...]
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