|
|
Post by killeroftheminge on Aug 27, 2018 16:25:59 GMT
"...chocolate," she says, forcefully, keeping her eyes cast downward. She didn't actually feel like eating anything, much less a chocolate donut, but she figured giving Marty some kind of mission would get him out of here and lend her some privacy. She'd rather follow up on this without him breathing down her neck.
"Actually, yes, those pills my...boss sold you, and everything else in this bag. I've just got a few questions, most notably if you've noticed these missing? Are these prescribed, and if so what exactly are these for? It might help with a case,"
|
|
|
|
Post by BlacKnightZero on Aug 28, 2018 20:13:34 GMT
"Seriously!?" Grant thought. "They welcomed me into this fortress graciously and now they hold me at gunpoint!?" These cultists seemed to treat their guests pretty poorly, but he wasn't actually planning on joining up with them, so it didn't really matter. The bigger issue was how Grant was planning to get out of this. Being held hostage like this, he'd surely be killed before he even got a chance to write anything in his notebook. The only solution would be to bluff his way out.
"Unfortunately for you, I'm not even the real Grant." He began to say in a superior tone. "You're aware that my ability is to create illusions, right? The person you see now is one of those illusions, and the real me is somewhere else." All of this was a lie of course, but he did his best to sell the idea that he really was a copy of himself in order to confuse the cultist holding him hostage, and give Abel an opening to attack him.
|
|
|
|
Post by Warudo on Aug 28, 2018 21:16:24 GMT
Abel had successfully intimidated the guards, and was moderately safe in the middle of them. A viciously cocky smirk grew on his face as he looked around at them. This would be easy, he'd take all these creeps out and be right back to helping Isabella. THEN they'd continue on their warpath to Marty. Easy-peasy. He took a step forward and raised his arm, preparing for a swing. He stopped when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, his head turning to see exactly what the cultists were doing.
The movement hadn't been the cultists though. There stood Grant, looking confused. And at the sight of this all Abel could manage was a barely audible 'what?'. Where the hell had he come from? Why was he here? These were all questions that would have to wait for later, for almost immediately taken hostage, a cultist taking a hold of him and putting a gun to his head. "Goddammit, seriously? Why does everything always have to get harder?" He complained, seemingly to no one in particular. He turned towards the hostage and cultist, giving them his full attention as he his brain raced to figure out how to turn this into a positive situation.
It looked like he would need to though, as Grant confessed that he was in fact an illusion! Abel, not understanding the bluff for what it was, was impressed by this display of skill on Grant's part. "Really? That's pretty nifty." It also meant that Abel didn't have to get creative with his assault. It was only an illusion after all. Abel suddenly lunged forward, closing the distance to Grant and the cultist in a flash. His arm shot up in a blue blur, snapping towards the cultist's face. It was a stand-powered jab, aimed to crush the cultist's face and knock him out. Thankfully it didn't matter if the attack shocked him or not, because even if he pulled the trigger on instinct, all it would do is shoot an illusion! What an idiot.
|
|
|
|
Post by ToledoJones on Aug 28, 2018 21:30:57 GMT
He hadn’t said much to Dolce, just nodded along to his mostly correct assumptions and avoiding talking about his temporary team up with Marty. But Dolce did know something it seemed: Marty was after Mothman. Monks stared blankly at the spot the Dolce has been standing. His fears had been confirmed: Marty had done all of this just to meet a supernatural being he didn’t even believe in. Many thoughts were racing through his mind, but his head finally cleared when he heard an engine start.
“Go?” Monks repeated. “Where are we going?” He frowned, but he trusted Dolce, so he agreed with little hesitation. Some part of him, the detective part, didn’t want to leave the crime scene just yet but his case was solved: Dolce had been found. He’d have to leave this one for now. “What do you think Marty wants with Mothman? I didn’t believe his posturing about protecting Fallbrook, not with the way he acted, but part of me wanted to hope he wasn’t this far gone...” Monks had wondered why Marty would even have so much trouble with everything at his disposal when Monks had met Mothman by accident. There was some explanation but he’d likely have to wait for that. He’d have to wait for a lot of answered it seemed.
Ayida dragged the others with her, something odd in her mouth. When she got closer Monks realized it was the gun, the murder weapon. She handed to Monks as though it were the morning paper and he pocketed it. Extra firepower was welcome, he supposed.
|
|
|
|
Post by dad on Aug 28, 2018 22:57:35 GMT
"I'll explain later." Dolce replied to Monks' question regarding Marty. He seemed to be much less talkative once the two had left the cabin. He just kept driving with his motorbike as Monks tailed him with his car. Eventually, the two left Fallbrook and were greeted by some luscious greenery. Dolce had brought the detective to a beautiful grassy landscape that even had a river trailing across it. The chief got off their bike, parking it somewhere as they waited for Dolce to arrive.
"Meow meow miao... (Ew, this place stinks. So many flies...And water is gross!)" KitKat complained, hating rivers due to his feline nature.
"Squeak squeak. (This land is foreign to me. A superior being such as I belongs to the advanced realm of the city, not whatever...this is.)" Vicar was similarly angered, probably irritated by the lack of trash bins nearby.
Monks got off his vehicle as Dolce motioned for him to come. Of course, the detective obliged, stepping forward as he kept walking.
click
Hmm? What was that? A strange noise waved past Monks' ear as he struggled to locate where it came from. It was then that a loud noise caused him to stare back at Dolce. The chief had shouted for some reason.
"Don't move! Take even one step out of here...And we'll both be scattered along with this beautiful land." Dolce exclaimed, staring Monks down. "The moment you entered this place, it activated a tiny mechanism." The chief pointed at a certain area. Monks wasn't sure what was going on, but he turned around and saw it: A tiny, almost intangible tripwire. He had triggered it while walking here? "The ground below is linked to detonator fuses and anti-personnel mines. Yes, Monks, the ones they used in the war. In other words, the moment we stepped foot in here...our fates became one with this land. None of us can leave." Dolce declared, calmly walking around despite his threat and sitting on a rock nearby.
"You have but only one way to save yourself: Simply wait here with me until the entire fiasco in Fallbrook is dealt with." Dolce stated. He remained silent for a while before cracking a smile. "Gazing at me with those eyes is futile. At the moment, I truly am Domenico Dolce. I am not working under Marty's orders." He revealed. Was it the truth? Was Dolce doing this out of his own volition? But why? What was the point in keeping Monks away from Fallbrook like this? "Forgive me, but this is necessary."
"Miao miao miao! (H-Hey! What the hell is all this? I barely know the guy and he wants to blow us up? You tryin' to start a gang war here, punk? Really?!)" KitKat growled, about to puke out a hairball and toss it at Dolce. Considering the situation, perhaps it was best if someone prevented the cat from acting so imprudently, especially due to the mines.
"Hmmm?!" Moma was surprised at Isabella's strength and wits. The woman quickly understood how her new body functioned and did a swift yet powerful push up. Moma had been launched upwards, but that on its own would do nothing. The man would land soon after all and that's why Isabella decided to add an extra attack just to be sure. She remained poised, raising her leg as she had an electrically charged kick fall down on Moma's skull, causing blood to stream out of the man's beard and nose as he convulsed and was ricocheted across the walls.
"To have understood your new body so easily...You're a crafty wench..." Moma muttered as he hovered in mid air, about to unceremoniously land on the floor in defeat. However, before he could land, Isabella noticed that the man was doing some strange movements. Was he going to suddenly land on his feet and attack her? Wait, no, he was doing the opposite! He was...Trying to fall down on purpose?!
"Regulator open! Limiter at MAX! All clear!" It took a while for Isabella to realize it, but mechanical parts were growing on Moma too! In the end, the giant just landed on the floor like a plank. Wheels, apparatus and engines grew on their body until Moma vaguely resembled a...Formula 1.
"Speed, acceleration, might...Those are the principles of Speedway Boogie!" Moma revealed the name of his Stand as his new engine roared. "Of course, someone like you could never understand....Women aren't into cars!" He shouted, accelerating towards Isabella at max speed as he rammed straight through her with the horsepower of a Formula 1. Isabella and Moma soon left the jail cells, speeding away as they now roamed through hallways. Isabella kept crashing and colliding with several walls, receiving the full brunt of Moma's attack. However, she was far from being knocked out of the fight. She could still win this, especially since she noticed that the vehicular parts on her body were still there. It seemed as if Moma couldn't just undo them easily.
"What? You're an illusion? D-Don't give me that crap!" The cultist panicked, thinking that Grant was bluffing (he was), but he couldn't even prove that since Abel intervened soon afterwards. "Ugh..." They muttered before falling unconscious after such an intense blow to the face.
"D-Don't move! We'll shoot, even if you're our ex-boss!" The remaining cultists shouted. They were primed and ready to fill the Stand users with lead for sure. That at least was until some clapping could be heard in the distance.
"Amazing...Truly amazing. I had heard that you two formed quite the duo, but this really goes beyond my expectations. It makes sense now for Roger to have lost to you two..." A suave and well-dressed man suddenly entered the room. They had a pretty boy face along with slicked back and impressive looking hair. It almost felt as if they were some sort of movie star that had suddenly entered the stage, ready to play their leading role. "So...Remember me? We met a week ago." The man muttered before extending his hand to Abel. A week ago? Wasn't that...When everyone invaded Marty's house? Someone else was there? Wait, could it have been...One of the prisoners?! They didn't look old enough to be Graham, plus they didn't smell like rotten meat. KK was far too young to be this tall and handsome. They didn't feel enough like pedobait to be Betty. So, who was left...?
"Okay! Be right back!" Marty exclaimed, leaving the hospital as he went to get some well earned donuts.
"Hmm, alright..." The doctor examined Adeline's pills, mostly as a gesture of thanks due to the woman getting the obnoxious Marty to leave. "Huh...Yes. Yes, these have definitely gone missing like a few weeks ago. We suddenly noticed that we had much less of these medicines here than earlier. By the way, these are a mixed bag really. You currently have at hand a combination of painkillers, allergy pills, headache cures and so on. Most of it is used to treat a lot of common diseases and injuries, but that's quite the amount of doses." The doctor explained, sifting through the pills a bit more before opening two of the bottles and noticing that they were empty.
"...Who took these pills?" He suddenly asked Adeline. "These were stolen around...Yes, three or four weeks ago. Each bottle contains around 50 pills. The recommended dose for this pharmaceutical is 1 pill a day...But this person ate 100 pills in four weeks." The doctor expressed worry. "That's a high risk of overdose. This particular pill could potentially be fatal if you take it too often, but you'd probably just vomit or feel sick before that. Where did you get these from exactly?"
Things were getting weirder. Did Dolce coincidentally happen to have a bunch of friends over who all had cramps or something? No, that was stupid. Dolce had stolen these pills and probably taken at least a dozen of them every day. Why was he doing that? This sort of behavior was life risking and self-destructive. Had Dolce already died from overdose in some random ditch? These pills could easily present a plausible cause of death.
Anyways, it didn't seem like the doctor had anything to add. They were more concerned about whoever took the pills, which made sense. The revelation was soon interrupted by the untimely arrival of Marty who tossed a chocolate donut right at Adeline. "I'm back and I got your stuff! So, did you do whatever you needed to do or what?" Marty asked, wondering what the stuff about pills was about.
|
|
|
|
Post by BlacKnightZero on Aug 28, 2018 23:21:57 GMT
"Wait, Abel, hold on a second--" Grant tried to say something before Abel came crashing into him, but it was too late for that. He should have expected something like this to happen, since Abel had no way of knowing Grant's bluff, but it seemed to have worked out anyway.
Grant stood up, fortunately not seriously injured by that attack. As he looked around, he could see that him and Abel were now surrounded by several cultists who looked pretty angry that their boss was just knocked out cold. On the bright side, it seemed like Abel wasn't actually still with the cult. It put Grant's mind at ease right before a mysterious stranger showed up to make things more tense.
"Ah... It's you!" Grant said, looking up at the handsome man. "Wait... Who are you again?" He couldn't actually remember who this person was. He claimed to have met the two of them at the house a week ago, but for some reason, Grant was drawing a blank on the man's name.
|
|
|
|
Post by Warudo on Aug 28, 2018 23:31:38 GMT
The cultist dropped like a bag of bricks, leaving the 'illusion' to stand free of his clutches. Abel felt a surge of satisfaction from that, as it was the first real punch he had managed to land in a while. They were just a tad more satisfying than kicks and javelins. The cultists behind him began to panic after watching their comrade get decked so hard, which was understandable. However that didn't make it a good idea to threaten to shoot him. Abel towards the cultists, specifically searching out the one that had just spoken. "Eh? You will?" He asked, staring the cultist down. "You think that'll do enough to stop me from plastering your face against the wall? Because I don't think so." He said. And he meant it too.
Again, before he could get started on trying to tear the cultists up, a new distraction emerged. He was well-dressed, had good hair, and was pretty handsome by most standards. Definitely a hollywood kinda guy. That slow clap was annoying though. Abel turned to the newcomer, raising an eyebrow as the man approached him.
Grant summed it up pretty perfectly. He had no idea who this guy was, but apparently they met a week ago, during the battle at Marty's house maybe? Though it could easily be some time before or after that. He probably wasn't note-worthy enough to remember. He approached Abel respectfully, offering a hand Abel to shake. The blond looked down at the olive branch with a hint of confusion, but he didn't seem to hesitate in taking it. Well that was good, maybe he wasn't just some blood thirsty brute.
He then began to squeeze the man's hand with crushing strength as he glared at the guy, clearly not pleased by his appearance. "I don't, but whoever you are you better get your facts straight before you start peddling shit." He said in an irritated tone. He had worked his ASS OFF to beat Roger, he'd be DAMNED if he didn't get full credit for that! No offense to Grant, but Abel didn't remember ever seeing him fight the assassin.
|
|
|
|
Post by RockyRaccoon on Aug 30, 2018 2:10:08 GMT
Kyu had been momentarily restrained by Mike’s stand as he suddenly saw that nearly the entire police department was seemingly under Marty’s control and he began spouting nonsense that the boy really couldn’t care less about before telling him to join their gang. He truly didn’t understand what was going on but he knew one thing and it was that these people were clearly trouble. His lower torso as well as his arms had been subdued but the more he continued to listen to these ridiculous officers the more annoyed he clearly became as a bit of rage began to build up inside him. “Yeah, I'll join your gang...Just let me down first and we'll talk." He tried to quell his rage for the time being. He had to wait and see what they had planned before deciding to take action, but nonetheless it seemed as if the boy was truly annoyed by this predicament and although he tried to hide it deep down inside he wanted nothing more than to rid himself away from these ridiculous idiots before him.
|
|
|
|
Post by MoeSenpai on Aug 30, 2018 19:34:09 GMT
"Y-Yeah... I rather do not. This doesn't look like something I would enjoy. Okay, watch out where you're swinging this. Hey, HEY!" Michelle barely managed to dodge the bat and slipped on the ground. Her first instinct was to get out and SHOVE THAT FUCKING BAT UP HIS ARSE... But instead she slowly crawled back and tried to get away from this man. Something was definitely weird... WHat the heck was Marty trying to do? Was this some sort of Purge? Nowadays she could actually see him ordering this because he doesn't want to bother working or something like this.
"S-So... What are we killing ourselves for in the first place? Are we summoning the devil?" Michelle asked while Gipsy Kings slowly began to climb on her head and cover her body. A couple of them were also climbing on the skunk. She wouldn't want to see him getting hurt.
|
|
|
|
Post by dad on Aug 31, 2018 0:20:25 GMT
The handsome man was glad that Abel had accepted his handshake. Indeed, the two shook hands for quite a while, Abel exerting a huge amount of pressure with his shake. However, the 'stranger' merely smiled at him. "Oh, you're so kind! Really though, you can go all out. Don't hold back on me like this..." They said. So Abel's strength was nothing to them? Who was this guy?
Abel then witnessed unparalleled elasticity as the man raised their leg. It was in a perfect 180 degree angle, standing next to their head before coming down and landing on Abel's arm. It hurt like hell, causing Abel to quickly release his hold as the man stepped back. He proceeded to do something else odd, he was stripping right in front of Abel! The man took off his leather jacket, now revealing his bare chest and torso (God he was ripped) and suddenly throwing the clothes at Abel. A distraction? No, that was an attack. The clothes suddenly started closing upon landing on Abel. They tightened until he was forced to wear them as they became even more tight. He was being restrained!
"I hope this proved that I'm worthy enough to see your Stand, bro!" The mysterious man said before snapping his fingers. The nearby cultists heeded his call, stepping down as they suddenly dropped their guns and left the room...Only to return with bottles of soda.
pssh
"I'm a bit hurt that you two don't remember me, but just telling you would be boring too. I'll just give you some hints then: My two favorite things in the world are..." He muttered, opening several glass bottles and gulping their contents down in an instant. "My beautiful face and my daily eight bottles of soda. I prefer Coca Cola to Pepsi if it's possible, but I also like trying cheaper brands too. You two got any recommendations?" He asked before suddenly tossing the bottle caps at Grant. A strange and ineffective attack, especially since all of the caps missed.
However, strange energy now emanated from the bottles as Abel and Grant finally saw it. Multiple buff frogs could be seen standing next to the mysterious man, wearing thongs and sharp looking shades. "C'mon, you know who I am right?" He asked again. Grant then felt a sharp pain behind his back. He couldn't tell what was going on until he looked behind him...The caps were hovering? And they were penetrating his flesh?! He studied the trajectory of the caps and then looked back at the ominous bottles. They aligned perfectly. If Grant weren't there...The caps would have returned to the bottles' lids.
His ability involved closing things?
"Woah, you'll join us for sure? Damn, that's cool my dude!" Mike exclaimed, giving Kyu a friendly pat on the back. "Ya know, working for Marty isn't that bad. You get to party all day, all night and we get free donuts and bagels. Now doesn't that sound like the best time ever? Aw man, you're gonna love it here!" He stated. Soon, Kyu was completely surrounded by a bunch of wacky moth fanatics and Mike himself. He was unsure on how Marty had managed to break everyone's spirit like this, but something definitely smelt fishy.
"However, before we can let you be a true party rocker, you need to pass through our ritual." Mike declared. "Don't worry, it'll be fine. I came up with this myself! Come on, bring it out!" The fat cop ordered as one of the mothmen took out a...banana. They slowly peeled it as Kyu now had a banana dangling right in front of his face. "Aight, eat it and you're done, boyo!" Mike said. Wait, eating a banana was a ritual? What? Was Mike just pranking him?
Kyu would then be surprised as the fanatic shoved the fruit down his mouth. Thankfully, he was able to spit out most of its contents, but part of it still went inside his stomach. It was then that he started feeling a bit...strange. Somehow, the prospect of working for Marty didn't seem that bad. Free donuts and bagels definitely seemed appetizing, plus getting to party all day and night? That was awesome! Kyu should definitely--
No, wait a second. This was wrong. Kyu's mind slowly regained focus as these strange thoughts left his head. Was he really content with being part of a gang of lunatics? He questioned why this thought had even entered his mind. This wasn't 'him'. Something was off with this entire 'cult' for sure...
"Man, look what you've done, Kyu! Now we gotta get a new banana for the ritual..." Mike snapped his fingers, one of the fanatics leaving to grab another fruit. Replacement banana or not, there was definitely something odd with this ritual. Mike probably didn't join voluntarily and neither did the other cops. Marty had done something to them!
"Don't you know, child? This is all to call back the great savior...The one who ruled and protected Fallbrook..." The bat man said quite ominously. They grinned and chuckled while slowly creeping towards Michelle, determined to bash her brains in. The protector of Fallbrook? Who was that? Michelle could only think about one possible person out there who could be called that...
"Kiii kiii kiii (We gotta run! There's no use reasoning with him!)" Feelgood warned and perhaps she was right. Of course, it was rather bold of her to assume that Michelle spoke skunk. In the end, it was up to the girl to decide whether or not she wanted to escape for now. Eventually, the cultist cornered Michelle, ready to swing their bat once more. Thankfully, Gipsy Kings was there to shield her. All seemed to be in her favor really.
SCREEEEEE
A bloodcurdling shriek could be heard in the distance. The sky darkened, filled with clouds as lightning struck the buildings nearby. Fallbrook's poorer district now had tiny flames on the top of its buildings, almost as if it was surrounded by giant funeral pyres. The ominous thunder kept coming down like a tempestuous roar as the cultists suddenly stopped their murderous tendencies, in owe at what was currently happening around them. So this really was all a ritual to summon someone...Something. The protector of Fallbrook. The ruler of Fallbrook. There was only one thing Michelle could think about. She had heard the stories ever since she was a child, after all...
Mothman.
From the heavens, a black silhouette revealed itself. It was neither angelic nor demonic, displaying features that were simply alien enough to make people realize that it was a being from beyond. Its tall stature, hairy body and insect-like features were enough. The limbs confused the cultists as they were perplexed at the lack of arms on the creature. Besides a torso, all that it had were two long legs, wide and spacious wings and red eyes that would pierce anyone's soul. Other features were there, but Michelle couldn't really get a good look at them. The creature didn't exactly descend after all, it limited itself to flying around the buildings, scouring the land as the ominous screeches could be heard.
SCREEEEEE
"Our lord! Our savior! They have returned!" The cultists screamed in unison, raising their arms as they gazed at Fallbrook's guardian while the rain washed their bloodstained clothes. However, it seemed as if Mothman himself was displeased. He finally landed next to the cultists, growling and trembling as it observed their weapons. The atmosphere then changed, the sky turning red as the sun disappeared, replaced only by a bloody moon as lightning struck Fallbrook again.
The cultists' remained frozen, awaiting the judgement of their God as Mothman walked towards them. He was angry, that was clear. The bloodshed, the chaos, Marty's presence...It was akin to an insult for such a divine being.
"BEGONE."
Michelle could hear it speak audible words. To be more accurate, it felt more like her mind was being filled with these thoughts. Vivid images of slaughter and executions suddenly flashed in her mind, the girl being sure that she had never witnessed these events in person. Were these...memories? Mothman's intense fury was transmitting his memories to people nearby? Either way, the cultists were terrified, having seen a glimpse of their future. Mothman's wings suddenly grew, and grew...and grew. They became gigantic, tall enough to rival and surpass all of Fallbrook's buildings as the moth hovered once more. He then covered all of the cultists with his gigantic wings, smothering them in his embrace as several screams could be heard. Once the wings shrunk and opened, the cultists were no more. There was nothing left, only Mothman.
"...Glory to the God!" The crazed bat man exclaimed next to Michelle before smashing their own head with the bat. They fell unconscious, having failed to kill themselves. However, they caused quite a bit of noise. Michelle turned around, and...
Mothman was staring right at her soul. The creature was a dozen meters away, but the girl was sure that it would catch up in an instant if it wanted to.
|
|
hawaii117
Based 8.1 Poster 
Posts: 418 
Music: Superorganism is pretty great
|
Post by hawaii117 on Aug 31, 2018 1:54:58 GMT
Isabella felt extremely satisfied that her plan paid off, allowing her to feel a sense of satisfaction when her leg came down onto the skull of Moma. But the car parts weren't going away. "Still alive, eh.... Definitely thought your heart would've given out after that one..." She kept her defenses up as she stared at the behemoth. Getting ready for whatever else he had planned to throw at her, because from the looks of it he was going to attack again. "Crafty is one way of putting it." She grimaced at the man as he revealed the fundamentals of his stand, before... turning into a car himself? A formula one race car... "Something women can... FUCK!" He slammed full force and speed right into the police office, causing her to scream out in surprise and pain as they began driving away from the jail block. BANG. BANG. BANG. The constant repetition of that noise let Isabella know that she was being rammed into wall after wall, while being propelled forwards by the Oldman turned roided out car human. AEH was reaching it's limit, and the pain was growing worse and worse. Thankfully she wasn't anywhere near passing out at this point in time. Isabella was going to make him hurt when she got her chance. But first she needed to find a way to stop his forwards momentum. The officer grit her teeth as she collided with another wall. Isabella looked at her shoulder and saw the wheel was still there. Looks like it takes some time for him to get rid of these things... Then as if she was flexing one of her own muscles the wheel on her shoulder began moving. And I can use them too... Isabella began to slide her self down to the ground so her hips could connect with the speeding by ground. "Don't know much about cars, huh assshole." She then began revving those wheels, pushing back against his forwards force. Hoping to slow him down before gripping his legs and flipping him upwards and ramming him right back into a wall. |
|
|
|
Post by ToledoJones on Sept 1, 2018 4:13:26 GMT
"Damn, I've gotten complacent," Monks laughed a bit, trying not to move too much. "if this were back in the war I would've seen this coming a mile away." Oddly, Monks didn't feel angry or even like he had been tricked. The whole situation with Dolce had seemed off from the beginning. "Strange why people seem to treat me like I'm so important. I doubt I would help or hurt anything that's happening back in town... Are you just doing this to protect me?" Monks lit a cigarette and surveyed the scene. He may have been a bit out practice, but he was actually trained to spot mines and tripwires.
"Bark, ruff fff. (Hmph, some animals you are. Afraid of the wilderness.)" Ayida snorted at her companions. Then she caught the scent of explosives and started to realize what was going on; she had been in situations like this before and she didn't like them. "Rrrrrrr. (Hey, idiots, don't move! Unless you want to die.)"
"You don't have to protect me, Dolce." Monks sounded a bit offended. "This isn't a great way to do that." Monks put out his cigarette and pocketed it, not wanting to discard and it trigger any nearby mines. "I know we aren't super close, but you of all people should know that I've been ready to risk it all this whole time. You should know what it's like going into this essentially blind. You can try to kidnap me, Shanghai me away from Fallbrook but I'm not just going to let it happen."
|
|
|
|
Post by dad on Sept 1, 2018 23:22:09 GMT
"Miao miao miao! (Then what do you suggest, you dumb mutt? Just keel over and die to a bunch of mines?)" KitKat growled, not wanting to go down without a fight. However, the animals were soon interrupted by a sporadic burst of laughter. "Ahahaha...Aahahahhahahah!" Dolce was...laughing? He laughed at Monks' words, completely cutting off the man's courageous speech. Eventually the laughter stopped, Dolce reverting back to the serious expression he had before standing up from his rock stool.
"You're a fool, Monks. You aren't important. You aren't strong. You aren't smart. You have no Stand. That's why I brought you here: You're the weakest of the people in Fallbrook who heeded my call back when all of this started. In fact, I was quite sure you would quit and go back home upon realizing just how foreign Stands were to your fragile worldview." Dolce said in a sinister tone. Too sinister. Had Monks ever heard Dolce speak like that? "...I'm sorry, but you were the ideal prey." There it was, Dolce's usual tone. The shift between the two voices was quite sudden. Even Dolce's expression had drastically changed to a solemn gaze.
"You know, I once thought that the future was limitless, that you could forge your own path with your own will. That used to be my pet theory, but it seems as if I was incorrect..." Dolce muttered. "In this world, the moment a person is given life, they are burdened with a karma that leaves no room for choice. Much like how both of us were destined to not be Stand users." He said, confusing Monks even further. A burden? Destiny? "Losing my own future feels as painful as being torn to pieces. Therefore, if this will let me get it back....I am more than willing to be dyed in black!" Dolce proclaimed, taking out a gun and aiming at Monks. "Shall we, Monks? If you do not intend on going down quietly, then I won't either!"
Moma kept pummeling Isabella with his vehicular form. It seemed as if the woman would end up turning into crushed meat before Isabella realized that she could use the wheels to her advantage. "Hmmmm?!" Moma exclaimed in surprise, watching as Isabella fought his forward motion with a reverse motion. She was accelerating! It had turned into a contest of speed...or so it seemed until Isabella suddenly lifted the old oaf upwards, causing him to crash into a wall. "Ugh..." The old man muttered, their parts falling off and dissipating while Isabella's remained. They were cornered and ready to receive punishment, at least before they suddenly pointed at the area behind Isabella.
"Hey, look! It's Marty!" Moma shouted. Really? The oldest trick in the book? As if anyone would fall for--Wait a second. Isabella could actually feel something strange behind her. She gave a quick glance behind her and realized that there was a window there. Well, that wasn't that important...Until Moma suddenly stood up and placed his feet on the wall behind him. "Speedway Boogie..." He gargled, his body quivering as mechanical parts started emerging.
"FLY HIGH!"
It was a flash. The only thing Isabella had felt was her getting tackled, then the sound of glass breaking. When she came to, she was flying! Her hair dangled all over her face as she now hovered above Fallbrook itself. Had she gone to the afterlife already? No, that would be too depressing. She turned around and then noticed the culprit: Moma was holding on to her, the gigantic man's body now having mini-plane parts as it flew around Fallbrook. The old man then grabbed Isabella in a choke hold as he had her forcefully stare down at her hometown. "So...Where do you want to die, skank? I'll be merciful enough and let you choose."
|
|
|
|
Post by ToledoJones on Sept 2, 2018 6:20:21 GMT
"Guess I'm really not smart, 'cause I don't know what you're talking about at all." Monks was confused and a little on edge. Dolce had threatened his life a little more directly now, but this seemed strange. If Dolce had wanted him dead, there had already been plenty opportunities to kill him. Monks didn't take Dolce as someone with a flair for the dramatic so it seemed unlikely he had planned some grand execution.
"I guess you weren't planning to protect me either..." Monks was stalling a bit, trying to makes sense of anything that Dolce was saying. He sounded mad, rambling like Marty... In a less stupid fashion, at least. This was suspiciously unlike the Dolce he knew, but how well did he know Dolce really? The trip to his home early had already Made Monks question this. All the drugs and paranormal tools.
Ayida thought for a moment, back to her younger days when she had just met Monks, they had dealt with mines before. "Arf ruff. (How good are you two at digging? If you go under them you might not set them off. Maybe.)" Mines were fickle, but she could use her companions to test her idea. If it didn't work she would be rid of two annoying pests. Win-win.
Monks could understand that their relationship had only been professional, that they weren't really friends, that he didn't know Dolce at all. But Dolce had never come across as racist. Had his comment about being dyed black meant something else? Or was it a jab at Monks specifically? He racked his brain, trying to think what else it could mean. Dolce... in black face? It was an odd thought, but did his other confusing comments mean anything? Fate. Doomed to be standless. It came to him slowly, perhaps a piece of the picture, as he hadn't worked this case. Could Dolce be referencing the Black Mask killer, Com Truise?
It didn't quite add up, but it was all that he had to go on for now. Perhaps it would buy him some more time, or work more answers out of Dolce himself. Monks drew his own gun tentatively. He had several on him, his Tommygun, the murder weapon from the cabin and his own revolver and that trusty piece was what he went with this time. "I can't say I'm happy it's going to end like this: one of us dead. I don't what you think killing me will achieve for your future but you're starting to sound crazy, like one of the loonies you hired me to clean up after. If you want to be the next Black Mask then it will make it easier for me to put a stop to you." Monks hadn't trained his gun Dolce intentionally; he had wanted to seem passive. So Monks fired a shot not at Dolce but at the ground near the rock he sat on, hoping to trigger a mine.
|
|
hawaii117
Based 8.1 Poster
Posts: 418
Music: Superorganism is pretty great
|
Post by hawaii117 on Sept 2, 2018 14:04:51 GMT
The officer stood back up after freeing herself from the old oaf's onslaught, her stand now glowing with the blue outline once more, having it been charged significantly quicker thanks to the wheels. Cracking her knuckles and readying to give him an all out pummeling, moving forwards ever so slowly. It looked as if her vehicular parts still remained while his fell off and faded away. "Looks like I-" Then the old man pointed behind her and said it was Marty. In that moment a shiver went down the officer's spine.
There's no way he's behind me at this moment.... No way... This guy has to be tricking me... Isabella thought while turning her head to see behind her, confirming that she just fell for the oldest trick in the book. Which gave Moma enough time to reactivate his stand, then things went black for a little bit. All she could hear was the rushing of wind and the shattering of glass.
When the woman came too again she was airborne. Flying over Fallbrook as if she was some spirit headed to the afterlife... Her hair was going allover her face while she moved through the air. That's when she looked back and saw Moma, the behemoth was holding her in a chokehold as they both stared down at fall brook. He was going to drop her... "I... I don't know. I thought I'd never be given the luxury of choosing where I die..." Isabella kept staring down, despite her situation the view from up here was actually quite nice. Too bad she'll never experience this agin.
"Maybe just drop me in the woods. Let me die silently in there. I feel like it'd be fitting." As she spoke with resignation to her fate, the officer had other ideas in mind. AEH covered her legs, the blue outline around the cogs glowing brightly as she lifted her legs up and stuck them to Moma's. "So... Did you do this often when you were younger? Because if so, I'm rather jealous." The officer was now making small talk with the cultist.
|
|
