Post by Haxflip on Jun 24, 2013 18:46:41 GMT -5
(So it's been years between my signing up and now, didn't mean for it to take this long BUT I fried my old computer and nearly forgot about the site. Thankfully, I remembered Kitty had it on thought and now I return from the land of the almost dead. Now that that's out of the way, onto reading what I put here and making people laugh at how I write these.)
( UPDATE: Since I forgot to add the open tag to this, I apologize. I don't bite...)
[li]Narrator/Reader (However you wish to see it).
[/li][li]Dave's thoughts.
[/li][li]Dave's speech.
[/li][li]Reasons for assassination(s) (Used when recalling past events that happened behind the 'curtain')
[/li][li]Author's note. Straight from the desk of Haxflip himself.
[/li][/ul]
'Seriously, Dave? You've been here for, what? A year? And still haven't contacted anyone to see what everyone around here is like? Good job scoring points for yourself.' Dave thought as he opened the door to a room that looked like a tornado ran through it. He stood in the doorway for a moment, observing his mess he called a room. A habit-trail like maze of paths scrawled the floor, the main path going straight from the door to his bed. 'I really need to straighten up in here... This is friggin ridiculous.' He sat down on his bed and glanced out the window towards the sky. "Nothing interesting there, same thing here as back home.... Then again, what is home? Is it here, with all these people? Or is it back in the states, where I used to be? Can I really go back there knowing what I've been through here with a straight face?"
He glanced over at his mirror, the five pictures pinned near it had very large black or red X's splashed over the faces. He could see the barrel of his rifle and his crossbow in the mirror's reflection. 'Those were people once... They had families, lives, friends. But, its either them or me from what I understood on those papers. I wonder when they're going to call on me for more things like that? And if they do, why would they send me to the outlying areas? They're actually nicer than most places in the states.'
"Whatever. They're supplying the ammunition and I'm just doing as I'm told... They picked me for their own reasons and told me I'm to do as instructed. It's not like I can just up and leave if I wanted to anyway..." His voice trailed off. What was he to do? Run? Like that would work, he would last less than a day by his calculations. He turned his attention to the new-found noise downstairs, sounded like people heading into the dinning room or maybe the kitchen. 'Is there something going on that I missed? Or is everyone just trying to mess with me today? In either event, I'll be staying up here... Don't feel like wandering the grounds or even being outside the base. Pft, what am I turning into? My parents?' Dave shook his head, accidentally sending his glasses flying off his face and onto the floor. Resting his head in his hands, he began doing something he rarely ever did for himself: Pray. He prayed only for his targets, that they would reach their destination safely and had no grudge against Dave for his cruel, yet needed, work. But now? He prayed for hope. Hope that he could finally swallow his hate of humanity long enough to make friends here, even fit in somewhere, maybe even find someone who knew his parents and why he was here. Was the shipwreck his last living moments and his spirit put here for a chance for redemption? Or was he really here? He no longer knew what emotion he felt. Originally, it was anger for those who captured him... That anger drove Dave through those five targets, but that anger turned to sadness. Target Four was killed in front of his daughter at her birthday party for supposed gambling debts. He didn't want her to see it... He tried to wait for when she was out of sight. But it was either then or never.
If this was his chance for redemption? Why did he need it? Was it something in his past or his future? In either event, if his spirit wasn't stained before, it is now. Dave prayed knowing full well it would be useless, he did so for peace of mind.
Sounds of people moving through the hallway interrupted Dave's thought and prayer. He kept his head down and mouth shut. He didn't need a crowd wondering why his door was open, and why it's occupant was hunched over in silence. One or two or maybe even three people he'd tell if they looked like they cared... Any more than that would depend if he was brave enough to tell them...
(I'm aware it isn't MUCH to go off of, but I'm not quite used to a forum medium for this. Give it time and I'll need to refrain from writing entire books... In any event, I tried.)[/font]
( UPDATE: Since I forgot to add the open tag to this, I apologize. I don't bite...)
- Affected Characters: Any passing by who may be curious.
- Social Environment: Passive, non-combat.
[li]Narrator/Reader (However you wish to see it).
[/li][li]Dave's thoughts.
[/li][li]Dave's speech.
[/li][li]Reasons for assassination(s) (Used when recalling past events that happened behind the 'curtain')
[/li][li]Author's note. Straight from the desk of Haxflip himself.
[/li][/ul]
'Seriously, Dave? You've been here for, what? A year? And still haven't contacted anyone to see what everyone around here is like? Good job scoring points for yourself.' Dave thought as he opened the door to a room that looked like a tornado ran through it. He stood in the doorway for a moment, observing his mess he called a room. A habit-trail like maze of paths scrawled the floor, the main path going straight from the door to his bed. 'I really need to straighten up in here... This is friggin ridiculous.' He sat down on his bed and glanced out the window towards the sky. "Nothing interesting there, same thing here as back home.... Then again, what is home? Is it here, with all these people? Or is it back in the states, where I used to be? Can I really go back there knowing what I've been through here with a straight face?"
He glanced over at his mirror, the five pictures pinned near it had very large black or red X's splashed over the faces. He could see the barrel of his rifle and his crossbow in the mirror's reflection. 'Those were people once... They had families, lives, friends. But, its either them or me from what I understood on those papers. I wonder when they're going to call on me for more things like that? And if they do, why would they send me to the outlying areas? They're actually nicer than most places in the states.'
"Whatever. They're supplying the ammunition and I'm just doing as I'm told... They picked me for their own reasons and told me I'm to do as instructed. It's not like I can just up and leave if I wanted to anyway..." His voice trailed off. What was he to do? Run? Like that would work, he would last less than a day by his calculations. He turned his attention to the new-found noise downstairs, sounded like people heading into the dinning room or maybe the kitchen. 'Is there something going on that I missed? Or is everyone just trying to mess with me today? In either event, I'll be staying up here... Don't feel like wandering the grounds or even being outside the base. Pft, what am I turning into? My parents?' Dave shook his head, accidentally sending his glasses flying off his face and onto the floor. Resting his head in his hands, he began doing something he rarely ever did for himself: Pray. He prayed only for his targets, that they would reach their destination safely and had no grudge against Dave for his cruel, yet needed, work. But now? He prayed for hope. Hope that he could finally swallow his hate of humanity long enough to make friends here, even fit in somewhere, maybe even find someone who knew his parents and why he was here. Was the shipwreck his last living moments and his spirit put here for a chance for redemption? Or was he really here? He no longer knew what emotion he felt. Originally, it was anger for those who captured him... That anger drove Dave through those five targets, but that anger turned to sadness. Target Four was killed in front of his daughter at her birthday party for supposed gambling debts. He didn't want her to see it... He tried to wait for when she was out of sight. But it was either then or never.
If this was his chance for redemption? Why did he need it? Was it something in his past or his future? In either event, if his spirit wasn't stained before, it is now. Dave prayed knowing full well it would be useless, he did so for peace of mind.
Sounds of people moving through the hallway interrupted Dave's thought and prayer. He kept his head down and mouth shut. He didn't need a crowd wondering why his door was open, and why it's occupant was hunched over in silence. One or two or maybe even three people he'd tell if they looked like they cared... Any more than that would depend if he was brave enough to tell them...
(I'm aware it isn't MUCH to go off of, but I'm not quite used to a forum medium for this. Give it time and I'll need to refrain from writing entire books... In any event, I tried.)[/font]
