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Mar 24, 2013 23:45:49 GMT -8
Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Mar 24, 2013 23:45:49 GMT -8
When Micah wrenched at the hand, he noticed he actually could pull it away. It felt like brushing off a hand made of packing peanuts. His wrist still felt like he'd gotten a chemical burn. The ghost bobbled and watched him intently. ??- "I'll never let you live this down. Even if you die, it's just more of this. They never let you forget. I saw you..." The circular conversation was making Micah dizzy, or was it the blood loss?
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Mar 25, 2013 0:36:01 GMT -8
Post by ∆§Indea§∆ on Mar 25, 2013 0:36:01 GMT -8
"For fucks sake!" He gave up on talking to the pissed off dead guy. Micah searched the ground hysterically for the flare, trying to stay upright and trying to break through his fucked up state. He would at least try to burn the ghost down. He spotted what looked like the flare nearby softly fizzing on the meaty floor. A soft smell of cooking meat would have filled his nostrils, were they not caked with running blood. He lunged for it, attempting a roll so that he'd be facing the ghost head on with it. He hoped his luck panned out because his body wasn't giving him shit.
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Mar 25, 2013 13:08:04 GMT -8
Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Mar 25, 2013 13:08:04 GMT -8
Micah grabbed for the flare, which teetered right next to a watery pit in the roof. He nearly scorched his fingers getting to it. ??- "I saw you. You'll never live this down."
He grasped it with the tips of his fingers, and rolled it closer. Finally, it was fully in his grasp.
The pale ghost cocked his bald head slightly, and slowed his approach, as though waiting to see what Micah would do.
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Mar 25, 2013 14:50:34 GMT -8
Post by ∆§Indea§∆ on Mar 25, 2013 14:50:34 GMT -8
Micah took a ragged breath, his gamble had paid off. Now all he had to do was surely point the fucking flare at the bastard. Micah blinked and steadied his wavering form.It was beggining to be difficult to discern where all the pain was coming from, everything bloody hurt. Fuck! Micah tensed up, it was crunch time. He pointed the flare at the dead fuck and prepared to jab him with it. "Live this down, Fuckwit!"
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Mar 26, 2013 12:36:21 GMT -8
Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Mar 26, 2013 12:36:21 GMT -8
Micah jabbed at the ghost, who seemed to move weightlessly like a deflating party balloon. He squinted his eyes against the forthcoming ghost-splosion, and was surprised to feel his hand becoming wet. He opened his eyes. His hand was doused with fresh dark blood, and the flare as well. The flare sputtered a few pink streaks, and fizzled in a ruddy stream of smoke. Micah felt so woozy, black stars tickled at the edge of his vision. The ghost moved forward, perhaps to grab him again. What happened if you died in the company of a haunter? What would they do to you? Is this how haunters are made? ??- "It's over. It's over, man. Everyone knows. Coward."
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Mar 26, 2013 12:48:55 GMT -8
Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Mar 26, 2013 12:48:55 GMT -8
(Indea, you can post one more time here. Get florid, man! )
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Mar 26, 2013 14:56:27 GMT -8
Post by ∆§Indea§∆ on Mar 26, 2013 14:56:27 GMT -8
(( Florid? Darn it I thought you said fluid hahaha. )) Stupid miserable, bloody dickhead. Micah looked disbelieving at his freshly bloodied hand and the flare that never was. Was he really going to go out to this guy? Micah's world spun around like a endless carousel in some children's ratty cartoon. His world fizzed and popped with stars and woozy blood loss. No fuck that for a fucking laugh, this jackarse wasn't going to do shit! Micah gave the fucker the finger. "You bloody motherfucking arsehole!" Micah threw the dead flare at the ghost's head. The lurch forward caused his head to feel like it was being pulled apart. Fuck! Pain splintered through his body like ice, he felt cold or was it hot... he couldn't tell. He tried his best not to cry, no one was going to save him. The only person who would have was waiting for him in hell. Micah wasn't ready, the fear was too much, desperation and panic filled his every fibre. He backed away from the bald ghost. What would it do to him? How was he going to die?...Micah hurled his guts onto the meaty floor leaning forward and soft hiccupping sobs escaped his lips. He wrapped his arms around himself, shaking in some pathetic parody of a hug. “P-please..please, I..I'm sorry. Don't, j-ust fucking don't. I'll.. I'll do fucking an-anything.” He knew it probably wouldn't work. It seemed so blindingly pointless, he was royally fucked. He waited impatiently for some kind of near-death epiphany. It looked like he was going to be stuck here with this dickhead for the rest of his fucking time. Well, until one of his past friends struck him down with a flare. At least the headache would stop, but what shit would he start spluttering? What in hell was he doomed to repeat? That time he pissed himself in gym when he was ten? His horrible uncle coming home drunk? Cornish? All the possible and horrible memories whirled around his head like a hellish spinning top. He was blubbering now, blood, snot and tears intermingled and bubbled with each breath. He felt like some petulant child refusing to take a bath. The sooner little Micah accepted his crappy fate, the sooner it would all be over. Little Micah fucking wished, there was nothing to be certain of these days. It could take hours for him to die, who really knew? Would he just become part of the hamburger floor and no one would be none the wiser as to what happened to him? Would they cook his meat and serve it up a' la carte. He'd become some person's shit. Fuck! Micah let out more sobs, hiccuping and almost choking on the bloody mixture. Harden the fuck up. He took as large a breath as he could manage and turned his attention to his oncoming harbinger of fucking death. He summoned the last skerrick of his courage. He'd go out with at least a trickle of dignity. With somewhat of a bang...kind of. He looked death dead in it's eyes. “So just one last fucking question, s-so what the f-fuck do they c-call you, dickwad?”
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Mar 26, 2013 18:14:06 GMT -8
Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Mar 26, 2013 18:14:06 GMT -8
??- "They call me angry, because there is so much to be angry about. They call me re... r--reap..er... You're as bad as the fundamentalists. It's just-- wanna deny my free speech. Coward. I saw you..." The babbling ghost mostly just annoyed Micah, but it was hard to not be afraid of the ghastly, unnatural vision, and the hazy feeling of unconsciousness coming upon him. The stars spread across his eyes, and he felt so tired. For a moment he wondered if he wasn't really dying in this world. This was just a game or a movie, it certainly didn't seem realistic and it made him feel better to think it. Then he didn't think of anything, as darkness stole upon him, and he dropped to the bloody tiles...
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Mar 28, 2013 21:12:16 GMT -8
Post by Thy Dungyeon Maestyr on Mar 28, 2013 21:12:16 GMT -8
One moment he was the Reap-er, the next moment he was a menacing Hefty sack, that quickly deflated into a pile of Jell-O on Micah's feet. The roof was cold, weed janky, and lonesome. Micah woke up.
He was feeling like he'd just run a marathon, been caned for coming in last, punched in the nose, and had a rope run in and out of his throat for good measure.
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Mar 28, 2013 21:45:57 GMT -8
Post by ∆§Indea§∆ on Mar 28, 2013 21:45:57 GMT -8
Micah struggled to his feet and pinched himself a few times to make sure he was still alive. If feeling pinches actually proved he was alive at all. Which he hoped not because it was kinda hard to feel anything else with the amount of pain in his body, which probably meant he was alive. The bald ghost was nowhere to be seen except there was extra goop on his shoes layered on the other stuff he'd been drown in tonight. He wondered when they'd finally raid a dry cleaner. Micah made his way shakily down the ladder into the north stairwell and attempted to make his way back into the 6th floor or any floor he could make his way to before collapsing. He will just attempt to find the first group of alive people he can and bunker down for the night with them.
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Mar 28, 2013 21:49:08 GMT -8
Post by Dr. Jar on Mar 28, 2013 21:49:08 GMT -8
Ashley found the roof empty and without anything of interest. "JOHNSON?" He asks the nothing, and instead finds Tyrone's gun. "...TYRONE? GODDAMMIT WHERE ARE YOU?" He shouts off the roof, but he can't hear a word. And he took the Lord's name in vain, what was wrong with him? He tried not to limp as he walked.
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Mar 28, 2013 21:50:27 GMT -8
Post by Thy Dungyeon Maestyr on Mar 28, 2013 21:50:27 GMT -8
Micah found the stairs full of corpses, then the hall as well, and the Comm Center didn't look more promising. In the 6th floor hall, did he go south through the comm center, or north to check on the hustle and bustle in Marie's room?
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Mar 28, 2013 21:51:25 GMT -8
Post by Thy Dungyeon Maestyr on Mar 28, 2013 21:51:25 GMT -8
Ashley looked down onto the patio totally at random, and saw them. Kaito and Tyrone!
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Mar 28, 2013 21:55:10 GMT -8
Post by ∆§Indea§∆ on Mar 28, 2013 21:55:10 GMT -8
He'd probably just go for the first group of humans and that'd be Marie's right? So let's say he ended up there, sorry Alex.
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Mar 28, 2013 21:55:12 GMT -8
Post by Dr. Jar on Mar 28, 2013 21:55:12 GMT -8
Ashley climbs down as fast as he can, though slips and falls the last few steps as he stumbles over to the two of them. Were they alive? COULD THEY BE?... "...JO..." He stopped and knelt in front of the likely obviously dead pair.
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