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Post by CASSIEL on Apr 14, 2013 10:15:37 GMT -8
A glass bottle, fragile in all aspects, sunk through the air. Its jade-colored exterior reflected the scarce sunlight that struggled through the overcast as it spun on its way down towards a target. A well aimed item, and a forearm would simply shield a smiling face, the glass shattered on contact. Shards and beads of wine littered the floor beneath a man and his platinum blond hair, as hoarse and angry voices rung out, "You fuckin' cheat! Yer usin' yer powers!"
Cas would snicker at the man, emerald eyes observing the disheveled clothing over a skeletal frame. The man had a gaunt face with mousy stubble to match the wild hair of his. "Watch it, culchie! I swear to you, I didn't cheat, I'm just deadly, yo!" he laughed, only for another glass to be hurled at him.
"Fuckin' redcoats. American dumbass, learn it!"
Cas' grin only further grew at the ignorance. He began backing up, occasionally bumping into a few empty chairs in the bar, knowing that what he was about to say would get a reaction. "I'm actually Irish, you git. And it's called English. The brains you culchie's develop from having cousins fuck eachother!" Cas laughed, only to begin running.
The sound of transformation was heard behind him, but the boy was too far gone to get the details. He had assumed something slow, due to the fact the sound of his chaser was no where to be heard. He'd be in sprint for another twenty seconds before slowing down, navigating between the heavy congestion of people that paraded the strip. Turning his head to get one last glance behind him, he'd run into another directly in front of him. Whether they toppled over, he wouldn't know as he staggered left and tripped over another's foot and fell straight to the ground. The mumbles of irritated citizens could be heard but he was too humiliated to protest. With a face starting to turn away from the cement it landed on, he voiced out to the other, "You okay?"
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Post by LAZARUS on Apr 14, 2013 15:38:52 GMT -8
| [atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=valign, top][atrb=style, background-color:#eeeeee; width:400px;,BTABLE] | [atrb=style, width:300px; text-align:justify;] [style=font-size:30px; float:left; margin-right:6px]E xcited murmurs buzzed through the congested streets of the Capital District. At every turn there was either a child conversing with their friends about the latest prisoners who joined one of the four groups of the island, or there adults talking excitedly about the newest appliances and fashions that had just hit the market of Area D. A luxuriously dressed statuesque man walked nonchalantly through the throng of Altered. The man let his thin digits loosely grip an expensive looking bottle of wine, whilst his free hand swept through his exotic looking crop of black hair. A mixed look of disgust and boredom quickly spread about his features as he placed his free hand inside his suit jacket, desperately in need of a cancer stick.
Lazarus found what he was looking for and brought the menthol cigarette to his lips, lighting it with a golden zippo lighter that he had taken from a transformation type thug from the Gorillas who had tried to assassinate him. The brown eyed man took a rather long drag on the cigarette, and as soon as the taste of menthol hit the palettes of his tongue, the lanky man let out a rather contented sigh. Lowering the green rimmed cancer stick from his lips, he simultaneously replaced it with the bottle of wine. In the process of chugging half the bottle of the only Monfortino he had been able to find in the god forsake dump that people called the island, the mans’ features shone with the radiance of a little kid on Christmas morning. Lazarus smacked his lips with appreciation and accomplishment at having once again drunken one of his mother country’s finest wines.
Unbeknownst to the overly dressed man, his unusually happy disposition would come to an end as people began to stare at him wide eyed with a mixture of terror, confusion, and horror. The nearest denizens slipped and fell in their earnest attempts to steer clear of his path because they had heard rumors of his devilish demeanor. For one of the top dogs of the east had made his way into neutral territory and no one knew exactly what he was up to. Laz clicked his teeth in annoyance and continued walking down the gray concreted slab that served as a sidewalk.
The suit man continued to walk at a leisurely pace, only to get caught unawares as a head slammed into his gut as a white haired man rammed into him like an American football player. As the dog was hit, the expensive bottle of wine flew out of his hand and brilliantly shattered into pieces six feet to the left of him, whereas the cigarette was only several feet from where he had gotten hit. In the act of landing on the ground with a thud, his brilliantly white suit had been dirtied by black marks he had gotten from the pavement. Adjusting a few buttons on the front, the black haired man stood up as though nothing had happened. However something did happen and the aura surrounding the man had suddenly grown dark with not only animosity but also hostility and revenge. Lazarus’s murderous gaze landed upon the being that had made the devil lose face in public. That was when the blond haired young man spoke up. “You okay?”
There were no more excited murmurs buzzing around the area, only quiet whispers and a rather accumulative crowd that had gathered to witness the poor victims’ execution. Suddenly a woman had cried out “Please Mr. Ballentine, leave the boy alone; he is deeply sorry to have wronged you. Let the young man live!”. This annoyed the lanky devil further and he raised a lone hand to silence the denizens. “Aish! NO I AM NOT FINE!” The man let digits glide swiftly through the nest on his crown as he finished his sentence. “What do you think you are doing you allocco! That was the finest wine I had procured and you went and broke the damn thing. So the only question left is whether or not I will kill you or have you hanged, yes?” Lazarus let the words slide from his lips coolly, still holding his murderous gaze upon the being who had managed to return him to his rather cold and devilish ways. [/style]
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Post by CASSIEL on Apr 14, 2013 17:34:49 GMT -8
Cas struggled back to his feet, his body unscathed by the fall that dragged him along several feet of cement. He immediately became attentive to the crowd that had formed a circle, fear painted on each of their faces, while a few more younger and juvenile showed eyes of anticipation.
The blond himself was out of the loop, and he turned towards the ebony haired individual that spoke as if he ran the block, which he might have judging from the words of some women that argued for his sake. Cas took the threats and the suggested "I'm I merciful enough" as empty, though the necessity for survival wouldn't permit those exact thoughts escaping between his turned lips. "Janey mack! Oh, no please, don't kill me-" he pleaded behind a fake face of worry.
If Cas could only leave it at that, but he found himself with too much tongue for one mouth. Though a bunch of them bloody mentallers tried killin' me and it hasn't worked so far." he boasted with a laugh, reflecting back on his own powers. "Hangin' might just be a craic, though!" he spoke with words littered with Irish slang.
Cassiel bend down to collect the major pieces of the bottle that was in pieces near him, picking up a more intact bottom portion from the pool of most of the wine. "Here you go, bro. Not as good as new, but you got a gulp or two left init." While he appeared oblivious towards the ominous aura, he could tell that this man meant business. If that happened to be the case, it wouldn't be the first person he ran from today. Although, a part of him was contempt with the idea of toying around with the wanker for a bit, disrespect him in front of the crowd. Put him in his place, and leave. What am I think, so very unChristian of me!
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Post by RANKA on Apr 14, 2013 20:07:19 GMT -8
Ranka had gained a new boss or whatever the italian wanted to be called. He felt uneasy about this new life of his. He was ripped out of the Russian Mafia and thrown into a flock of sheep. He hated this place and how unfamiliar it is. He was mad at his boss but he understood her reasons for giving him up to those disgusting people. Russia is no place for a man with reptile blood. He would surely be to slow to survive in such cold weather. He would end up sleeping all the time. Being to slow to protect her would make him a useless sack of meat. He rubbed his face as he wanted to rub away these thoughts. He wanted to erase it all away. It was time to start up a new life in Area D.
Ranka was not far from Lazarus's side. Soon as a threat pops up, will be when Ranka slithers up behind them silently. As lizards are very quick and silent creatures. Though he didn't use his powers at all to sneak up on the Irish boy. Ranka stood behind the boy, towering over him. His shadow nearly engulfed the Irish boy. That was one of the problems with sneaking up on someone in the day. Shadows can easily give someone away. Though it wasn't like he was up to something like stabbing the lad from behind with lizard claws, which are hooked. Ranka would never use his powers for fun. They are only needed when it is necessary. "Vhat kind oof ooffering of forgiveness is zhat?" The russian 6 foot 8 giant spoke with his usual heart trembling thick accent. His presents was creating fear threw out the crowed of people, it was a tense airless feeling. Like when the wind blasts in your face making you choke on the wind.
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Post by SIMBA on Apr 14, 2013 20:33:09 GMT -8
| [atrb=width, 50%][atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=cellspacing, 0, true][atrb=cellpadding, 0, true][atrb=width, 400px, btable][atrb=align, center, btable][atrb=style, background: #36393b; padding: 60px 20px 0 20px; border-bottom: 10px solid #45484b;] | [atrb=style, background: #f6f6f6; border-bottom: 10px white solid;]The capital district was filled with terror, confusion and the likes on this grand day as the "Dogs of the East" decided to take a trip to the gorgeous strip of shops, and towering buildings that reminded the crimson eyed male of his time in New York City. He didn't visit Manhattan that often, but when he did he was never disappointed. The bright lights, pretty girls, and the option to do whatever he wanted was amazing. That's the first place I'm visiting once I get off this wretched island, he told himself while following Lazarus from a distance. It seemed as if the civilians that lived around these parts were all scared of Lazarus, Simba knew just how evil the man was so it was pretty understandable. However, they shouldn't worry, Simba was here to keep the scheming devil out of trouble. "Even when I'm away from home I'm stuck babysitting." He murmured under his tongue as he kept a keen eye on Lazarus, hoping no one would provoke him to do anything stupid. But, that was always the case as an odd individual rammed into Lazarus as if he was a training dummy. "Oh no." Pools of crimson focused on his direction as the sound of the bottle breaking reached Simba's ears as well. Putting a little pep into his step he began walking faster to catch up to the two who both were standing at the time. Simba's arm reached forward, gripping Lazarus's left shoulder softly. "Now, now. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. That goes for you too, Ranka. We came to enjoy ourselves, not kill another person." He said shifting his gaze towards Ranka who was towering over the male that ran into Lazarus before shifting his gaze to the unknown individual. He hoped the man wouldn't try anything dumb, three against one was hardly fair in a fight.
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Post by SINNER on Apr 15, 2013 16:39:44 GMT -8
| [atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,100][atrb=vAlign,top] FEAR, FEAR  Sinner had been sitting nearby while this entire thing had been going on. The situation sounded pretty dangerous, shit could hit the fan at any moment, and after that God knew what would happen. However while Sinner could hear all this go down, he did not see it. He found no point in seeing it when he could hear it perfectly well. Instead he had his eyes fixed on his gaming console, tapping at the buttons over and over, seeming like he was just aimlessly hitting random keys, as characters on the screen jumped about. His facial expression was one of complete neutrality. He showed no outer joy in the game, but inside he was having fun.
There was the smash of glass, and a sound like spilling liquid. The smash put him off, causing a dink to sound out of his console. Game Over, displayed on the screen. Sinner gritted his teeth and stood up, pocketing the console. His katana made a metallic sound as he stood up. His hair fell over the front of his face, dropping long shadows along the across the arch of his nose. It seemed these assholes had had enough fun for today, it was about time for him to break this up.
Sin analysed the current situation, it looked like there was three or four of them. Now he was happy with a couple of the weaklings against just him, but some of these guys looked a bit bigger, on top of that he had no idea what their powers were. That was going to be a problem, there was way too many unknown variables. He definitely shouldn't be too forward with this break up, if possible he may be able to manipulate them against one another and clean up the leftovers. All these were options, but of course he wouldn't know what was actually going on unless he went over there.
Walking up to the group of pitiful Altered he looked each one up and down one more time. Pitiful bastards. I'd kill them all if it were up to me, not leave them in a God forsaken box, hell hole. He sighed and pushed the hair from his face with one hand, his other hand still on the hilt of his katana. "What seems to be the problem gentlemen?" His face spoken of niceties, but his eyes spoke of the killer laying dormant within him.
Notes:stuff here Tagged: Person here Words: ### template by pianissimo of BTN
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Post by LAZARUS on Apr 15, 2013 22:23:50 GMT -8
| [atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=valign, top][atrb=style, background-color:#eeeeee; width:400px;,BTABLE] | [atrb=style, width:300px; text-align:justify;] [style=font-size:30px; float:left; margin-right:6px]T he ebony haired demon of a man watched with both disgust and pure malice as the blond haired boyish figure clamored back up to his feet completely unscathed. The ominous aura that surrounded the tall yet lanky brute still hung in the air, tainting it with its evil presence. Enamored by the scene that was unfolding before them; more and more people began to place themselves around the outer edges of the circle. Aish. I’m drawing a crowd again, thanks to this guastafesta. Maybe I should just off him and be done with it. I still have yet to get an infraction anyway. The thought lingered only momentarily, and then it had vanished as quickly as it had come. But on the other hand, I was told not to make a scene, and yet I am doing so now. Mhmm Lazarus ran his lean digits through his hair; managing to ruffle it up in frustration. What further angered the twenty four year old is when the boy disgracefully picked up the biggest broken pieces of the wine bottle only to hand it to him and say in an assuredly manner that there was a gulp or two left. Lazarus dealt the offering a swift blow and the sound of glass could once again be heard as it shattered into even more pieces. “ What do you think I am? A cicciobomba? Why I oughta-” Lazarus stopped speaking halfway through his third sentence that had a touch of Italian slang because he had noticed that his loyal guard lizard at slithered up behind the blondie and had cast an enormous shadow over the man.
The ebony haired man smiled in his mephistophelian manner as the burly Russian spoke; asking the man what kind of offering was that with his usually thick accent. By now the boy should have realized he was outnumbered. However if the boy was lucky he would be dealt a swift and deadly blow by either man. Just as Lazarus was about to continue the conversation he felt a long hand grip the soft white fabric of his suit. Anger whelmed up in the Italian and it felt much like the calm before the storm, as he went to knock out whoever the fuck had just touched him he heard a rather familiar voice. "Now, now. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. That goes for you too, Ranka. We came to enjoy ourselves, not kill another person.” The anger that had been swelling up within the man quickly dissipated, yet the ominous aura still remained despite the fact.
This motherfucking albino lookin ass! Where did he come from?! Wasn’t he supposed to be hanging out with Lady Marmalade? Gahh this ass hole just had to interrupt. But well, I suppose his reasoning is somewhat justified. Lazarus dropped his murderous gaze momentarily only to put up a happy pretense, “Ahhh. Innit Simba. Weren’t you supposed to be with the Misses? I know how you like to get all farsi bello for the ladies just so you farsi una ragazza.” Lazarus spoke in a questioningly manner towards the young white haired boy standing behind him. Dropping the gay pretense and returning to his original disposition he spoke once more, “and I would remove that hand if you knew what was good for you. Despite us being “friends”, I don’t like to be touched.” The words flowed from his lips in a fluid manner; yet everyone knew that such words were laced with extreme malice.
Just as Lazarus was walking towards the blonde haired man, a loud drawling voice made its way to the ears of the Diavolo, the man was simply wondering what all the ruckus was about. The sound of footsteps were muffled on the cement and then suddenly the unknown man was standing at would have been the front row of the scuffle. Lazarus grinned mischievously and dug his hands in the depths of the fabric that lined his pants (his pockets).
The ebony haired man began walking towards the total stranger, enchanted by the look of a cold blooded killer in his eyes. The intensity of the man’s stare piqued Lazarus’s interest, and as such the brown eyed man would until he reached a foot from the other man’s shoe and stick his face just an inch or two before the man’s skin. “Aish. You’re a killer aint ya? Although you seem like a total cacasodo to me. Yah got some bite left right? At least make it interesting for me; you loner.” The words that soared from the ebony haired man’s lips were meant to allure the victim into violence or to simply entice a little friendly spar. Either of which worked for the devilish man clad in all white.[/style]
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Post by CASSIEL on Apr 15, 2013 22:55:35 GMT -8
The odds shifted quickly, and that suppressed aggression died down even further as two others joined the fray. It was probably for the best as well, as Cas hadn't the slightest clue as to the abilities the man possessed, and assumptions weren't easily made about this sort of thing. One conclusion he was able to draw, however, is that the bigger guys generally had a lot more strength - perhaps enough to make him actually feel some pain.
Cassiel scouted the brute, following the chiseled features of the Russian. And while caution would permit immediate compliance with the thugs, the sound of the thick accent summoned forth his impish nature. "Ay doon't knoo woot voo are sayoong." the blond mocked while attempting to mimic the stone-cold expression of the lizard-man. That was probably the wrong thing to do. Very inconsiderate, Lord forgive me he thought, though his expression showed no regret for that action.
As the third man attempted to suade this black-haired individual from the act of aggression. Cas offered no words, but nodded in obvious support of the action. He would take all the help he could get right about now.
Speak of the Devil, and he shall arrive - and in this case, it was a rather sinister looking man, outfitted with weaponry and clothing to justify his rank within the prison. He inquired about the situation, and Cas made a quick action to turn the situation in his favor. His favor was one where he could just dodge the scene and get back to running from bottle tossin' grunts. "Not much, officer. This header had been offerin' me choices on how I want to die. Spoilah' alert, I think he is goin' to try and hang me." he started with a relaxed laugh, seeming not at all worried by the situation.
"Oh and cacasodo? Sounds like he is callin' you out, buddy." Cas explained, backing up a bit, one hand reaching over his mouth to motion the expression that all but said, 'Oh shoot! No he didn't!'. Now all there was left to do was wait and watch the reactions transpire. All planned.
659ec7
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Post by RANKA on Apr 16, 2013 17:32:04 GMT -8
Ranka frowned at Simba as he did not want either of them to cause trouble. Just who does he think he is. Ranka rolled his eye at Simba's words while he backed away from Cas. "Chto by ni avtosalochnitsa , ukhodi!" Ranka muttered in russian, flailing his hands like he has had enough of talking to Simba. Ranka yawned, he grew bored seconds after. It was almost like a chilly breeze hit Ranka. His powers are reptilian so the cold is his enemy. He can no longer enjoy the winter. All he gets to look forward to is summer where it is boiling hot. He has a new look on life, now that he enjoys the heat more than anything. Well not more than very single thing. There are other things he enjoys, but thats not important at the moment.
"Glupo irlandets dolzhen priderzhivat'sya svoyey alkogolya i kartofelya. " Ranka grinned wildly as laughter bursted out of him. "Da kha-kha vy nastol'ko maly, chto vy dolzhny zvuchat' kak mudak dlya togo, chtoby byt' zhestkim da cha-cha." He felt so amused by this rude boy that he forgets why he's angry at him in the first place. He even spoke russian instead of english by accident. Ranka can't help forgetting to speak english. Russian is his first language and he only just learned english. Though maybe he didn't learn enough english, who could. Ranka paused for amount, thinking something was off. His eye widened and he flailed his hands again. "Ooopsy soorry everyoone, I foorget my english soometimes." Ranka pats Cas on the shoulder roughly while still laughing a bit. "Voo neeed too leearn soome coompassioon little irishman. Be nice soo I doon't have too punch vour head down between vour shooulders. Ore we heaving a uunderstanding?" Ranka smiled and made the american thumbs up. Though his smile was terrifying and would make most tremble in fear.
"Oyy a laaw oobiding meat bag has shoown himself." Ranka grinned, his teeth showing and slightly open. He stood his ground, keeping his only eye on the officer. Ranka's eye narrowed as as his boss Lazarus walked up to the officer and entered his personal space. He truly had a very strange boss. Ranka wouldn't like that if it happened to him. Though he'd just grab Las by the back of his collar and move him a few feet away or he'd tell him to bug off before things get real serious. Nether the less, no one likes others entering there personal space. Well, unless its the other reason for that. Which obviously it isn't at the moment. Ranka's eye widened and his mouth almost dropped. Cas was snitching on them, 'Vhat a child.' He thought as he shook his head, face palming. Normally he'd clear that lie up, but seeing as his boss seems to want to provoke the officer, he stayed silent.
Translations:
Chto by ni avtosalochnitsa , ukhodi
Whatever party crasher, go away.
Glupo irlandets dolzhen priderzhivat'sya svoyey alkogolya i kartofelya.
Silly Irishman should stick to its alcohol and potatoes.
da kha-kha vy nastol'ko maly, chto vy dolzhny zvuchat' kak mudak dlya togo, chtoby byt' zhestkim. da kha-kha
yeah ha ha you are so small that you need to sound like asshole in order to be tough. yeah ha ha
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Post by SIMBA on Apr 16, 2013 18:15:20 GMT -8
| [atrb=width, 50%][atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=cellspacing, 0, true][atrb=cellpadding, 0, true][atrb=width, 400px, btable][atrb=align, center, btable][atrb=style, background: #36393b; padding: 60px 20px 0 20px; border-bottom: 10px solid #45484b;] | [atrb=style, background: #f6f6f6; border-bottom: 10px white solid;]This was getting out of hand as another individual entered the fray, and by the looks of it he appeared to be a officer. Simba hated those fools, each of them had a apparent hatred for the altered and played the role of "dirty cop". Such a thing never ended well when you had someone like Lazarus in the vicinity. Someone that never thought before he acted, Simba was like that at times too, but he learned to control himself and stay out of meaningless trouble. Ranka was a bit arrogant for his own good, his size meant nothing, Simba would be sure to shove something up that Russian's ass after this feud was over with. "How about we stop this, huh Lazarus?" He said as the grip on his shoulder tightened, regardless of him not liking being touched. It was to no avail as Lazarus pulled away and walked towards the blonde haired man who seemed to be the instigator of all of this. Releasing a quiet groan, he focused his attention the officer who was now on the scene. "No, nothing at all. See, that blondie over there decided to bump into my friend here. We cleared it all up, don't worry about it." Simba hated having to respect such a weakling, but the power his task force possessed far outweighed the current power Simba had. But, for some reason Lazarus didn't understand this at all. Simba's face fluttered from anger of his comrades ignoring him completely. The black haired devil-wannabe decided to go and confront the officer, what good does something like that ever bring, even in life outside of the prison. Before Lazarus started any problems Simba acted. Almost as if he vanished, he appeared between the two a hand on each of their chests. It wasn't a teleportation ability, instead he utilized energy to increase his speed which brought him between them before they managed to reach each other. A funnel of white energy was left in the little path that Simba traveled to intercept the two arrogant fucks. "Don't you fucking ever listen?" Simba screamed towards Lazarus as he gripped his collar with both of his hands. "Let's go. This is fucking pointless." The anger was easily apparent in both his voice and facial features. The white haired "wolf" didn't like when people decided to start trouble for no reason, and at this point he was upset with his comrades. However, if that officer tried to get a blind shot in, who knew how long Simba could control himself before he ripped him limb from limb.
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Post by SINNER on Apr 17, 2013 7:08:00 GMT -8
| [atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,100][atrb=vAlign,top] FEAR, FEAR Sinner stood there, he wore black khaki trousers, they were made from a unique material, very strong, and hard to tear, the kind army soldiers wear. To core his chest, he wore a thin, skin tight white t-shirt, its short sleeves, gave the impression of large power muscles, which wasn't so much of an impression as true. He had a pair of black army boots, great for grip, and good for close combat situations. There was a pair of black leather gloves tucked into his trousers, he took them out and put one on each hand.
These people were looking down on him, it was pretty obvious to him that they were. That was going to be one of the worst mistakes of their lives. They had essentially gone up to a tiger and pat it on the nose like a common tomcat. Were they stupid? Mentally deficient? Had they forgotten exactly where they were? This entire situation was ridiculous, so idiotic that Sinner was truly having a difficult time grasping what was going on right now. He looked the party over once more. Looking the idiotic russian who didn't know how to speak english corrected proved no more useful than last time. The blond irish man was small, and irritating. The look on his face got on Sinner's nerves. No that wasn't it, it was just his face, not even the look, the mans face was what annoyed Sinner. There was a blond one that looked so up himself, Sinner wouldn't have been surprised if he had shoved a small figure of himself up his arse. Then the mouthy one in front of him. He looked this sad sack of shit over last. He looked big, but harmless. Not like he could do anything with a sword stuck through his face. It did, however, seem this Lazarus fella' noticed something in Sinner's eyes. That wasn't actually altogether good, although from his reaction it actually looked overall fine. He sighed. "I completely understand, when faced with something you fear, you can only talk big, and not actually act. I find this very sad. It makes me unhappy. I would very much wish for us to fight, and I would show you the reason for your fear. When you know your fear, you can face it. However if that fear kills you...well you can't face it...'cus you'd be dead." Sinner was very delicate with his wording, and overall it came out how he wanted it to.
Killing Aura began to flood out of Sinner, he placed a hand across his body, and both hands on the hilt of his blade. He could finish it with a quickdraw. Before he had the chance to the guy who looked up himself...lets call him Constipated Face for now, just to make things easier. Constipated Face stepped between the two. He was fast, Sinner noted this fact down in his mental notebook. Sinner was also fast though, so his speed may not help him. Thanks to the act, the Killing Aura faded, Sinner hadn't begun to inspire true fear into the piles of shit they called Altered, that stood before him.
"Hmmm...you people seem angry. I can tell a fight was about to break out between you people so I advise you to leave the area immediately. If you know whats good for you that is." With sudden ferocity, the Killing Aura returned, this time the full strength was applied. The depths of hatred that inspired fear in all his foes should have hit the group like a sledgehammer. He quickly jumped back a step while the group was stunned, he got ready to put his speed, and strength into the quickdraw. It didn't matter which one of the bastards he hit, as long as he hit one of them, and as long as he wounded them enough for the rotten shits to die, or lose a limb, or something tasty like that. Assholes, I'll teach you about where looking down on me gets you. Sinner laughed and relished this feeling, the feeling before he killed some scum of the earth.
A sudden thought washed over Sinner. He didn't have time for this, and Jiga would have his head if he fought these people who, to his knowledge, had no infractions. He should leave before shit hit the fan for all of them. He laughed and relaxed. "You know what? I'm out of time, seems something has come up. Remember my name, Sinner, and watch out. Cus' when the executioners bell rings. I'll be here for you heads. He laughed again and walked away from the group, gone to finish whatever business needed to be attended to.
Notes:Sinner exited. Tagged: Person here Words: ### template by pianissimo of BTN
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