Fidget
Accepted Character
Posts: 27
Full Name: Miles O'Malley
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Homeworld: Vanilla Earth
Height: 6'6
Weight: 172
OOC Name: acorncap
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Post by Fidget on Jun 24, 2014 3:15:09 GMT
The fact that Fidget was still alive was proof that along with the flying snake god, there was a Devil, and he was every bit as nasty as advertised. His head felt thick and heavy, and his body had that shaky, tight feeling that came with being electrocuted, and he was pretty sure he could hear the spaces between his cells crackling. It wasn't nice.
Eventually he forced himself to sit up, nearly tipping over as he went cross-eyed. Placing his head in his hands, he breathed (And discovered that his tinfoil hat had made an unexpected return from the depths of an alien bug's (dead) stomach.) until it passed. Then he looked his hands over. Then he looked around him. The hallway was lined with enough tripwires and alarms to make his paranoid little heart sing with joy. Or it would if they were his tripwires- being in someone else's minefield wasn't exactly balm to the nerves.
But still, he was alive. Which was an unexpected twist given his last moments had been full of bludgeoning fists and righteous fury. It was enough to make him laugh, and that ugly, nervous little laugh echoed between the walls. He was alive. Unless Hell was a booby-trapped hallway in which case... well, he didn't believe in Hell anyway.
Getting to his feet, he felt his nose twinge and something warm and thin tap against his lips. It continued to tap sporadically against them as he turned his head, and he rather hated to say that it wasn't a mysterious or unknown sensation in the slightest. It was just the sort of thing happened when you had a fragile, bizarrely deformed nose like his own. It'd need a splint. Eventually. For now the tip was pooling with blood and swinging like a pendulum.
Thinking was proving to be a bit of a chore. He had to repeatedly stop and re-assess his situation as he maneuvered through the strings- simply resolving to act was sometimes enough to make him forget what the act was supposed to be. At one point he idly plucked at a string in an attempt to stimulate his brain, only for the full weight of the action to fall on him moments later. Fidget slammed himself to the ground, hands over his head, broken nose angrily protesting it's new position, and whole body rigidly awaiting the fallout.
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Ethel
Accepted Character
Metaphorical Invertebrate
Posts: 18
Full Name: Marlena Ethel Perry
Species: Werewolf
Gender: Female
Homeworld: Earth, 1933 (Devilverse)
Height: 5' 5"
Weight: 155 lbs
OOC Name: Husher
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Post by Ethel on Sept 7, 2014 20:04:54 GMT
▽▽▽▽▽▽▽ In the cold dark room illuminated only by a weak gas light sat a lonely jazz singer. She lit a cigar and between her twitchy finger, barely manage placed it between her lips. The redhot cherry pierced the darkness as she walked closer to the edge of the room. She stared into the unlit area, trying to make out the dark shapes of the cubicle while contemplating her circumstances. Nothing made sense, but at least she was safe. For now. Her worries have yet to be realized. Up until now, her paranoia was just that. Irrational. Somehow, the fact that nothing had happened only distressed her more. That was, until now. She resided in this building long enough to know the differences between the sounds of old pipes and creaky floors. That was definitely someone (or something) in her home, though she had no idea how it got in without breaking through the doors or windows (which would be even more noticeable). However, because she didn't hear that first, she decided to wait and see if the odd footsteps remained. They did. Inaction was no longer and option. Fear motivated her everything she did (or didn't do). Fear stood behind her with a knife to her throat, threatening to murder her is she disobeyed its order. She flicked on the lights, though she hardly needed it and it might have aided her in concealing her presence. While her first instinct was to call out to the intruder 'Who's there!' in a typical panicked horror movie scream queen fashion, she suppressed the urge, thinking it was better to sneak up on the intruder, tho the necessity of such precautions were questionable. If they activated one of the traps, they were in her world now. However, Ethel never had that much confident in herself. She skulked along the walls of the office, peering into cubicles as she pressed on. Her heart was pounding so hard, as if it were to knock down her her sternum and break the chain of pearls around her neck. Then a loud, painful burst of noise rang through the building like a punch to the gut. A gunshot. She ran then, without so much a look behind herself, but her eyes straight ahead. She darted towards the hall, sliding on her hole-ridden hosiery as she confronted the intruder. “Wh-who are you!?” she stammered. A squeak piqued in each word that left her quivering lips. The lanky figure sprawled out on the carpet failed to trigger any of her previous traps and snares. She was bewildered, but she predicted this would happen. After all, her lack of self-confidence wasn't completely unfounded. Utterly convinced of her incompetence, her mind raced through the possible causes of their failure. Her failure. She didn't even know how he managed to get in after she barred all the doors and windows. Pitfalls were so simple too. He bypassed all, but one single, obvious tripwire. And he managed to dodge the calamitous blast from the shotgun it was hooked up to at the ceiling. She knew she should have adjusted the angle a tad bit more, but she didn't want an accidental discharge either. Perhaps an accidental discharge would have been preferable to a successful intruder though. “H-How did you get in here!? What do you want!?” Despite her shaking, the gun remained steady in her hands as she aimed it at the intruder. She was ready to turn that blond mop red if he didn't answer.
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Fidget
Accepted Character
Posts: 27
Full Name: Miles O'Malley
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Homeworld: Vanilla Earth
Height: 6'6
Weight: 172
OOC Name: acorncap
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Post by Fidget on Sept 9, 2014 22:51:51 GMT
The small explosion was followed by a crumbling sound as the shotgun shells smashed through the floor. Fidget nearly choked on his own heartbeat- he'd never actually been shot at before, but he'd lived in enough bad neighborhoods to know what a shotgun sounded like and to witness firsthand why you didn't want to be on the receiving end of one.
He kept pinned to the floor for a few moments after- if this were one of his traps, there would be an aftershock. Some secondary effect timed to go off just when the intruder had recovered from the first and had resolved to be more careful. It was a precautionary measure, and there was no reason not to believe that whoever had set these tripwires (blatant and obvious as they were) hadn't hidden some sort of trapdoor or small-range explosive nearby.
At the thought, Fidget began to scoot forward like a caterpillar. After all, nothing quite helped the old survival like getting out of the damn way.
He stopped short at the sound of pounding feet, straining his eyes upward to see... another shotgun. Ducky.
"Eeeeuhhhh," He wasn't entirely sure he should respond to the first question, and hadn't decided by the time the lady asked numbers two and three. His head was still pounding and her squeaky little voice wasn't helping. "Well if I could get you to stop pointing your gun at me that'd be a nice start." Being shot by some tramp traipsing around as a flapper wasn't as appealing as it sounded, especially not so soon after having his skull broken by a cow in desperate need of a more supportive bra.
He made no motion to get up off the floor. The woman seemed jittery enough as it was, and he didn't want to take any chances on her trigger finger.
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Ethel
Accepted Character
Metaphorical Invertebrate
Posts: 18
Full Name: Marlena Ethel Perry
Species: Werewolf
Gender: Female
Homeworld: Earth, 1933 (Devilverse)
Height: 5' 5"
Weight: 155 lbs
OOC Name: Husher
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Post by Ethel on Sept 10, 2014 1:00:51 GMT
▽▽▽▽▽▽▽ She growled low, teeth bared. It looked something like a Swiss army knife with all it's components on display, and it sounded like a large-bodied hound (instead of a snappy little dog as one might expect). She slightly lowered her gun, but not by much. He was caught in her web. He was her prey. He wasn't in any position to make demands, or even half-hearted requests. “ Which one?” she asked, with a cock of her brow. Her grimace crumbled into a manic half grin. “There's at least three within a 10 foot radius of your body, though one already discharged. If you want to take a chance with the other, you can keep trying to inch along like a little moth larva and see what that gets you. But I'll save you the trouble and give you a hint though: a 12 gauge buckshot round.”Her voice was still obviously shaken, but at least it was clear this time. She tried her hardest to keep calm. Nice deep breath, inhale from your mouth and exhale through your nostrils. Or was it the other way around? Either way it didn't make much difference and she didn't want to think about how she was fucking up again. Maybe her eldest brother would be proud of how she handled the situation and issued the threat. She didn't even stutter! Oh, she'd like to think he would be, and if she deluded herself into believing that, she'd be overall more confident. And then maybe, just maybe, she'd stop shaking. “Now, save me the trouble and tell me who you are and why you're here. It might just save your life too.”
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Fidget
Accepted Character
Posts: 27
Full Name: Miles O'Malley
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Homeworld: Vanilla Earth
Height: 6'6
Weight: 172
OOC Name: acorncap
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Post by Fidget on Sept 10, 2014 23:59:51 GMT
This was going to be some kind of record. True, Fidget didn't know the average time it took for one person to die, resurrect themselves and die again, but he was willing to hazard a guess that it was usually longer than five minutes. He spread his palms up at her, and made no motion to rise. He hadn't figured out how to answer her first question by the time she spat out the second and third- as a rule, he didn't share his given name. Not out of any particular shame, but because it made him less easy to track. It was a lot harder to find a Miles O'Malley when everyone around knew him as 'the whackjob in the scrapyard.'
"Eh, um. Fidget, s'what I go by, I uh." He blanked. For some reason he doubted the woman was going to buy the whole 'Died and returned' bit. He mentally scrabbled for a plausible excuse. "I was... looking to get out of the rain. 'S wet out there."
It had been raining, right? Before the snake and the arena he was fairly sure there had been rain. Whether there was rain now was a different matter, and why he was dry as a bone was yet another. But he was already fabricating extra lies, just in case- Well it looked like rain, so I assumed. My mother was shit at names, you should have met our dog, Scabies. You have a very lovely, home, or I assume it's yours, very welcoming.
He tried to smile. It was unfortunate for everyone involved.
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Ethel
Accepted Character
Metaphorical Invertebrate
Posts: 18
Full Name: Marlena Ethel Perry
Species: Werewolf
Gender: Female
Homeworld: Earth, 1933 (Devilverse)
Height: 5' 5"
Weight: 155 lbs
OOC Name: Husher
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Post by Ethel on Sept 11, 2014 2:57:25 GMT
▽▽▽▽▽▽▽ “Fidget?" That wasn't possibly his real name, but she wasn't going to press him about it. She could sympathize; she rarely called herself 'Marlena Perry', and honestly, the only thing constant with monster names is that they were always changing. "I'm Ethel Deering.”She was completely bluffing about the other gun, but someone in his position did well not to challenge that. Still, she pretended to 'disarm' a make-believe mechanism on the side of the wall to sell that point. Just in case. “Okay, stand up and walk forward until you're out of the hall.” His excuse was plausible enough. She could here the pitter-patter of rain outside, and what sounded like an oncoming storm, but it still didn't explain how he managed to sneak in. She decided not to bring it up yet. She had to take a good long look at the intruder. She could only really make out his silhouette on lying on the floor, but his voice didn't lend much to the imagination. Anyone weasel-y enough to sneak into her base should have an equally weasel-y voice.
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Fidget
Accepted Character
Posts: 27
Full Name: Miles O'Malley
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Homeworld: Vanilla Earth
Height: 6'6
Weight: 172
OOC Name: acorncap
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Post by Fidget on Sept 12, 2014 17:51:20 GMT
Fidget was willing to bet he'd just used a lifetime's supply of good fortune on her accepting his chosen moniker in lieu of his actual name, and was genuinely surprised when she offered one of her own. He doubted 'Ethel' was her real name- hell, he couldn't even be sure she was human, and he wasn't going to risk that 12 gauge buckshot to the face for trying to figure it out. He couldn't see what she was doing very well from his position, but he made a mental note to look into it later. You never knew what could be useful in the future.
He considered staying on the ground, briefly thinking that by getting up he'd be a better target, only to realize that he was a pretty good target no matter what he did. He kept his hands splayed as he rose, and took careful steps toward her.
Fidget had never been a real connoisseur of beauty (or a fake one for that matter), but he was still unsure of what to make of Ethel's particular aesthetic. She had a sort of outdated, old-time feel about her that was almost as unsettling as the cyborg insect had been, just for its out-of-placeness. But it was an improvement to the giant snake. Fidget found himself squinting rudely at her scars, and wondering where they'd come from, if they were real, and what possessed her to display them if they weren't. Some sort of intimidation tactic? If it were going for the 'grizzled war veteran' feel the reptile had missed its mark completely by slapping it unceremoniously on what was apparently supposed to be the form of an attractive girl. A smart reptilian would choose one or the other- beauty or terror, depending on its goals. You didn't mix the two- at least not like that. It lacked finesse, it lacked long-term planning, and gave Fidget the impression that if this wasn't a particularly unfortunate woman then it was definitely a particularly stupid shapeshifting lizard.
That was fine. He could work with that. He could work with either.
He took a deep breath. He didn't smell sulfur, but he did smell blood. He instinctively wiped one hand under his nose- yes, that was definitely his blood, apparently his faceplant into the carpet hadn't been the most intelligent move on his part either.
"So what now?"
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Ethel
Accepted Character
Metaphorical Invertebrate
Posts: 18
Full Name: Marlena Ethel Perry
Species: Werewolf
Gender: Female
Homeworld: Earth, 1933 (Devilverse)
Height: 5' 5"
Weight: 155 lbs
OOC Name: Husher
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Post by Ethel on Sept 13, 2014 1:07:57 GMT
▽▽▽▽▽▽▽ When he stepped in the light, her face warped at the sight of him. What a repulsive creature. “W-What are you?” she questioned, cocking a brow. It seemed to tug the upper corner of her lip along with it, revealing her poor excuse for human dentition. For once, Ethel didn't really think of how strange and repulsive she must have looked. This individual had her beat. He was very, very tall, easily dwarfing her, but he inhumanly thin and pale. She remembered how Auberon made an example of tropism in plant growth using bean sprouts. The bean sprouts that were kept low in a dark box with only a sliver of sunlight to nourish them grew long, gangly and weak in attempts to reach it. That's what he looked like: an unhealthy bean sprout. He was either some sort of basement dwelling freak or a troglodyte creature masquerading as a person. She didn't think he look fit for agent work as dictated by the government, but she couldn't fathom how something as wretchedly unnatural-looking being an actual homo sapiens. His nose was the most disturbing feature of all. She knew of gaudy giants living amongst the outskirts of human society as carnival freaks, but they had heavy features typical of acromegaly. Instead he was painfully emaciated, shaking with the chill of uninsulated bones, and his most prominent feature was a long, bloody nose. It looked like it may have be truncated the way it was swaying and damaged, but that couldn't possibly be it. Humans sometimes had more exaggerated features, but not that exaggerated. It its length and shape, it had to be a prosthetic for some weird inbred ectomorphic humanoid costume, and now the adhesive was dissolved from his face, possibly by the rain. But that couldn't be that either, because it was bloody and swollen and... He wasn't wet. He claimed to be trying to escape the rain, but he looked completely dry (and kind of dusty too), aside from the blood. Maybe, she thought, he was a kelpie who had yet to grasp the art of imitating the human form, but kelpies were always wet. Maybe he was a demon, and that would explain how he snuck in. However, demons had more important things to do than be bossed around by a little lady like herself. She racked her mind of other potential supernatural shapeshifters, but none of them fit the bill. She was resolved when she decided she knew what he was. He was an alien. It made perfect sense. Elves (or álfar, as the Norsemen called them) were always described in Norse mythology as being tall, slender, and pale. Though the Norse didn't fully understand the scope of their extraterrestrial nature, they knew they were 'otherworldly'. That may have been how he ended up in here without tripping any of her alarms. He just teleported in with 'magic' (which we all know is just codeword for science we don't 'understand'). Somehow, the notion that he was an alien was scarier than the thought of a demon. At least she could reason with a demon, and her mother's family was quite chummy with some of them. “What now, is that you tell me the truth!” she demanded. She was surprised at the force in her own voice, but she supposed it was out of fear. “You're not wet. You couldn't be outside, trying to escape the rain. What are you and why are you here?!”
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Fidget
Accepted Character
Posts: 27
Full Name: Miles O'Malley
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Homeworld: Vanilla Earth
Height: 6'6
Weight: 172
OOC Name: acorncap
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Post by Fidget on Sept 16, 2014 2:09:56 GMT
Her teeth were not helping her case for humanity. Not that people usually had flawless dentures, but Fidget was growing more and more convinced that this woman was one pathetic little lizard's attempt to 'have it all,' as it were. It was almost sad. But no creature incapable of regulating its own body temperature was deserving of his pity.
It's questions however were downright insulting- insulting enough for Fidget to temporarily ignore the shotgun and snap "Haven't you ever heard of weather prediction? I saw clouds, I came inside, I didn't know I had to wait around and get soaked for your approval."
He caught himself and took a breath. His head was starting to throb again. He briefly considered just turning and running, but doubted he would get far before a trap, the gun, or his own thick-feeling skull stopped him. "Again, my name is Fidget, I'm just looking for a dry place to hole up until the rain stops, if you put the gun down, I'll be gone as soon as it clears."
It was as honest an answer as he'd give. Actually if he were being truly honest he'd gladly march out whatever door she pointed to without so much as a farewell, rain or no rain. Every minute she kept the gun pointed at him was another minute closer to having a squishy new oriface, and he rather doubted he'd receive another 'Get-Out-Of-Death-Free' card.
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Ethel
Accepted Character
Metaphorical Invertebrate
Posts: 18
Full Name: Marlena Ethel Perry
Species: Werewolf
Gender: Female
Homeworld: Earth, 1933 (Devilverse)
Height: 5' 5"
Weight: 155 lbs
OOC Name: Husher
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Post by Ethel on Sept 18, 2014 1:30:11 GMT
▽▽▽▽▽▽▽ “You're gonna have to get soaked and a lot more for my approval. If you haven't noticed, you're in my domain now! So you b-b-better watch what you say to me!” She let out a desperate, almost manic laugh, then shook her head as if to shake that insane expression of her face. “Your current statement contradicts your last.” If only she had something to record their voices on, like the gramophone at home. She used it for speech therapy, but it was very good at catching people in little white lies (because Ethel was the only person who nitpicked at little white lies with the dedication of a scientist). “You said it was wet outside. The implication of the former is inconsistent with the latter, and it seems as if you're desperately trying to cover your deceit-- t-t-to justify your claims. Just what are you trying to--”Ethel sighed, facing the barrel of the gun down. “But you're going to say something along the lines of, 'oh but of course, I wouldn't want the crazy lady with a gun blasting my head off, because I couldn't prove myself worthy; can you really blame me for bullshitting?' That's right, I know! Then I will seem unreasonable and paranoid and crazy, when my defensiveness is actually very well-placed!”
She didn't seem to realize that rambling on like a crazy person made her look even crazier. Nobody else was there but her and Fidget (she hoped), so there was no one to convince but herself. Maybe she did realize just how crazy she looked. “I know what you're trying to pull, you deceptive, devilish degenerate! But I know I have the upper-hand on you, and b-being the gracious person I am, I-I will allow you to redeem yourself, if you are truly as innocent as you insist. Come along now and sit then!”
She flicked her face in the direction towards the cubicles, the went ahead and set out a couple of computer chairs for both of them. As a sign of good faith, she sat down first, resting the shotgun over her lap. The other chair was placed directly in front of hers. “Sit.”Ethel wanted him gone now, but she was far too afraid to let a possibledefinite intergalactic intruder loose. Who know what havoc he could wreck? If he was free to go, he may be free to shoot her in the back with a DEW too.
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Fidget
Accepted Character
Posts: 27
Full Name: Miles O'Malley
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Homeworld: Vanilla Earth
Height: 6'6
Weight: 172
OOC Name: acorncap
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Post by Fidget on Sept 20, 2014 3:11:59 GMT
Fidget opened and closed his mouth several times. She was right, and he should have caught himself- he told himself he would have caught himself, if he weren't currently running at maybe half capacity. Probably only 33, 25% give or take. He wasn't about to admit, even to himself that he'd screw up a confrontation with a jittery little gecko like 'Ethel'. She just had the homeground advantage, and he had just woken up from the Big Sleep. The playing field was far from even (But then you couldn't trust a reptile to play a fair game.).
He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the shotgun as she stuttered her way through her explanation. Her domain, was it? The cheesy melodrama would have been hysterical if it weren't a prelude to his second untimely demise within the last half-hour. Fidget knew there was a reason he'd always avoided women back home. They all seemed to want him dead, and were apparently very, very good at getting what they wanted.
His eyes were still shut when she lowered the gun, and he didn't peep one open until she started rambling her way to what might be considered a truce if you didn't know what a truce was. That she'd opted to spare him for the time being was almost mammalian of her. Or it would have been if she weren't so obviously toying with him. Her talk of 'worthiness' and 'redemption' were idle concepts meant to instill hope in poor men like himself, just so she could snuff it out at her leisure. He was onto her games, and the thought of a slow, painful death for another reptile's amusement actually made Fidget wobble where he stood. He finally lowered his arms, hands white and bloodless from being held up so long.
If he sat down, he probably wasn't going to get up again. He wasn't going to sit. But then again, standing wasn't doing him a world of favors either.
If he were a stronger man (Or just one with more muscle mass than a grasshopper), he might have considered attacking Ethel while her back was turned. Instead, he opted to turn and flee down the hall. He didn't get further than a few steps before his vision swam and he had to stop. He bent over his knees and breathed until the tripwires stopped doubling up on him.
What a success.
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Ethel
Accepted Character
Metaphorical Invertebrate
Posts: 18
Full Name: Marlena Ethel Perry
Species: Werewolf
Gender: Female
Homeworld: Earth, 1933 (Devilverse)
Height: 5' 5"
Weight: 155 lbs
OOC Name: Husher
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Post by Ethel on Sept 30, 2014 11:21:52 GMT
▽▽▽▽▽▽▽ Fidget's refusal to cooperate only seemed to corroborate her theory. Why else would he run off, unless he had something to fear, or something to hide? Ethel didn't think she was very scary (gun aside), so it was probably the latter. He darted in the direction of the same hall he entered through, but that didn't make much sense, seeing as she still had rigs lining it like a spider's web. He must have disarmed most of her traps, or remotely triggered them somehow. She wasn't saying it was aliens, but aliens. He wasn't very athletic, which was almost expected. As a specimen of an advanced alien species, he probably relied more on the crutch of their own technological progresses than their own two feet. So she walked up behind him and sideswept him at the shins, letting him fall as if she was Paul Bunyan and he was some tall aspen she just axed. “I insist you sit and stay,” she cooed, looking over him. She tallied each finger around each of his ankles, dragging him back like some predatory cat with its prey. No alien menace would get away that easy-- for all she knew, she could be the only thing standing between it and the destruction of mankind. “Doooooon't you worry, I w-w-want you gone as much as you want gone; I j-just have to... clear up some misunderstandings, you know?”
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Fidget
Accepted Character
Posts: 27
Full Name: Miles O'Malley
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Homeworld: Vanilla Earth
Height: 6'6
Weight: 172
OOC Name: acorncap
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Post by Fidget on Oct 4, 2014 21:39:02 GMT
Okay. Okay, stopping had been a bad idea, it didn't matter how many traps were in the hall or how badly his vision was swaying, he really needed to get away from the gecko with the shotgun. He attempted to step forward again only for his face to fill with pain, and to discover that he was, once more, on the floor. Not long after this earthshattering discovery he also determined that he was being dragged across it.
There were really two options here: One was to peaceably allow himself to be dragged to his doom like an overburdened sack. The other involved a lot of hopeful squirming.
He kicked a few times, more to right himself than to attack (He'd fallen mostly on his side, and his cheek had the hot, slightly frizzy feeling of an oncoming rugburn.), and dug his fingers into the carpet. It was the short, tough kind that would refuse to give up its dirt to nothing less than a hurricane and somehow never seemed to wear out. After a few moments, his unhealthy nails gave way and tore down to the skin. Fidget hissed and switched to his elbows- perhaps he could shuffle-crawl his way to safety.
"If you really wanted me gone you'd let me leave." he grunted. But obviously she wouldn't, because she didn't want him out there spreading word about where her little hidey-hole was. That was one thing about Reptoids, they didn't like to leave loose ends. You didn't just take over an entire planet without any of its inhabitants noticing by being sloppy. "I don't give a shit about any a your misconceptions, you parasite."
His struggle and response were mostly for show- Fidget rather doubted he was going to get out of this little snare alive, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try, and it certainly didn't mean he wasn't going to be a pleasant little monkey about it. He kicked his feet again, half-hoping he could get her in the jaw.
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Ethel
Accepted Character
Metaphorical Invertebrate
Posts: 18
Full Name: Marlena Ethel Perry
Species: Werewolf
Gender: Female
Homeworld: Earth, 1933 (Devilverse)
Height: 5' 5"
Weight: 155 lbs
OOC Name: Husher
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Post by Ethel on Oct 7, 2014 5:59:21 GMT
▽▽▽▽▽▽▽ As someone who used to capture werewolves as a teenager, it was needless to say dragging an emaciated man by the ankles was a breeze. Again, Ethel felt like a full-grown man should have more strength than this, but she had to remind herself that he was no ordinary man. He was a specimen of some physically atrophied alien species only disguised as a man.
“I got reason to believe releasing you would be bad news for me and the rest of mankind,” she replied as she raked him along the ground. “See, I think you got things planned behind the grid.” Then he insulted her. Ethel tried to keep the illusion of civility (despite the very uncivilized actions by everyone thus far), but once he was backed into a corner, he lashed out at her and accused her of being the parasite. Now she was certain he was an alien. Pinning his own guilt on her in an attempt to throw her was a poor attempt at confusing her. “Okay, we both know who's the real parasite here, you sleazy bag of cartilage!” she barked back. “You might have fooled some other folks, but I know a grifter when I see one!” She was still going to confirm her hypothesis through a series of experiments, but she knew the outcome would prove her theory. Ethel let go of him, but aimed her gun at him instead. “Now sit down, or I'll give you a good case of lead poisoning! I've got questions, and you're gonna supply the answers!”
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Fidget
Accepted Character
Posts: 27
Full Name: Miles O'Malley
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Homeworld: Vanilla Earth
Height: 6'6
Weight: 172
OOC Name: acorncap
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Post by Fidget on Oct 10, 2014 0:34:31 GMT
Fidget stopped struggling- not because he believed anything she said, but because there was something rather ominous about the phrase "I think you got things planned behind the grid." Excepting his pirated broadcast and library-sponsored internet access, he'd spent the last twenty years carefully scraping away at any paper trail he could possibly leave behind. He was a man with no fingerprints, no welfare, no credit cards or bank accounts, no taxable income and a social security number that hadn't been touched since 1989 (If he could have safely disposed of that as well he would have- alas, his mother did not have her son's foresight and understanding of the world order, and he was stuck with the damn thing like a bar code.). Yet somehow, he must have triggered some sort of flag. The only thing Ethel should be suspecting him of was a poorly executed break-in. Perhaps his broadcast reached further than he thought (That was the hidden beauty of AM wavelengths, see, you never knew just how far they would bounce.).
Her response to his insult though, that was interesting. There was an angle he'd never considered before- the benevolent dictator, insisting that the wrongs you suffered were only for your own good, and that fighting the system was little more than pissing in your own well. How cute. How very cute and clever. Fidget had always assumed the reptoids kept control over their human underlings with gifts of power and money, but not once had he considered the sugary-sweet allure of false altruism.
He started to rise when she let him go. "You may have most of the world drinking from your teat, but I'm not. I've done my research, and you can't fool-"
There is nothing quite like the muzzle of a gun to shut a man up. He paused in a low crouch, glancing repeatedly between the shotgun and the flapper holding it. After a few seconds, he rose slowly with his hands up. "Sure. Fine."
Without turning around he edged into the chair she'd set out for him and slumped into it, not once taking his eyes from her and the gun. He didn't know what sort of opportunity could arise for escape, but he wouldn't see it if he didn't watch for it.
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