Post by RoOsh on May 8, 2008 0:10:22 GMT -5
Day 9: Dusk
The inmates had made short work of the Day, as they gathered around the one known as BlasterMaster and called him out as a Do-Gooder who should be lynched. They began to laugh and joke around until the final hours counted down, and the sun began to settle down to give rise to the dark night.
However, one person was not in such jovial spirits:
"Come on now, good sirs! I can't possibly be Batman!" cried out BlaM
"We don't care! You could be one of his Do-Gooder Scummy Allies!" Cried out Darth Sensitive.
"But, but... heavens! I told you already! I'm Joe Chill!" said BlaM nervously backing away from the Bloodthirsty crowd.
"What? Who's Chill?" said Rysto. "Wasn't he that two-bit criminal who robbed the Waynes? Why would HE be at Arkham?"
"But He- I mean I! I created... Oh...." trailed BlaM, as realization seemed to dawn on his face. "Perhaps I've said too much then.... Well. Look over there! Poison Ivy's naked!"
"What?!?" called out NAF and Molefan, whipping their heads over to the opposite side of the room, as did the other inmates. Just then BlasterMaster chose to make his stand- ironically by running out the cafeteria doors and into the Halls of Arkham.
"You idiots! He's run off!" cried out Storyteller. "Quick! After him!"
And so the chase was on! The blood thirsty inmates began to scour the asylum trying to find the man known as Blastermaster, who had hidden amongst them for the last week. Sinjin and molefan could hear from the pipes Blaster's voice echoing from above- "Sir! Sir! They're on to me! Now would be a good time for Plan B!"
They both looked at each other and quickly ran up the stairs of the labyrinthine building, trying to find the Day's lynchee. But he was nowhere to be found upstairs.
The masons said they caught sight of someone running past them on the stairs- they said it was a man dressed in a tuxedo though. What kind of person was that? Who let a butler in Arkham? They too were futile in their search.
It was the others who chose to search outside then, between the walls of Arkham and the green electrical barrier who were lucky. They caught side of a figure, quickly working near one of the Lex-CorpEnergy Generators, and approached him....
"Halt!" cried out the figure to them. "Do not get any closer! I'm warning you!"
The villains laughed and snickered amongst themselves evilly. The man's fear was oozing into the air- you could taste the viscous tinge of sweat, tears, and grime. This was their element. They were in control here. NAF, Darth, Storyteller and Rysto began to advance on the trembling figure.
"Stop, I told you! Did not that Ash fellow warn you! He had a weapon, right! I tried to warn you as well, Joe Chill is always prepared!"
"Give it up, old man." laughed Storyteller. "Ash was just a liar, and his gun was a fake. And Joe Chill isn't bad enough to hang with US. And Joe Chill certainly doesn't wear a tuxedo. The game is up for you."
"Yeah! When we get our hands on your, you're gonna be pushing daisies" laughed Rysto.
The figured trembled in fear, "I'm sorry... but I have no choice then.... Stay away. I do not want to hurt anyone, but I will defend myself."
"Bah! He's bluffing! Let's get him!" cried out Darth Sensitive, and the Villains all rushed at BlasterMaster as one.
Blastermaster gave a cry of surprise, not expecting to actually be rushed by them. But he stoically stood his ground, a old man who knew his time had come, and he pulled out a long object from behind his coat jacket:a large wooden blunderbuss, ancient and rusty, but still filled with deadly buckshot.
He raised the gun up to his shoulders, the blood rushing in his head, steadied his aim, and fired into the crowd of villains, peppering them with the tiny missiles.
BLAM!
The sound was deafening, and the acrid smoke filled the cold dusk air, as the villains all crashed to the ground in various states of panic.
"Oh!!" cried out BlaM, clutching his heart though, and fell to cold Earth. A small trickle of blood came out of his nose, a tiny smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, until finally his eyes glazed over, and he breathed his last.
Rysto was the first to approach him. "Typical man.... When it came down to his, his gun was all talk and no action. Poor bastard's heart couldn't even take us all, looks like he's gone and killed himself from all the excitement. Can't say he was the first man to give out on me like that.... Stupid buckshot, did he really think that would be enough take us down?"
Story lay on the ground still, looking down at the trickle of blood on her side caused by the gun's buckshot. "This is just a minor annoyance. Though that man most certainly was a Do-Gooder. But who was he?"
"I... I think he's Bruce Wayne's butler," said Darth, groaning from the buckshot, and bleeding slightly from his shoulder. He recognized the figure on the ground. "His name was Alfred. But what's HE doing here? Did he get trapped in here, and manage to survive for a week with us?"
"Hey- Hey guys.... I think something's wrong with you, Story. You... you really don't look good!" whispered NAF, as the other villains came outside to see what all the noise was about.
Storyteller's eyes widened, and she bagan breathing deeper as her leaves began to fall and wither.... "What? This... this is nothing. I'm... fine. We've got to keep trying. We must... get rid of....
Bat-Man.... !" choked out Poison Ivy , coughing up blood.
"Oh my..." said NAF , as he noticed the large wound in Ivy's side. The other villains had merely taken the extra shots from the gun, but Storyteller had actually taken the direct full blow of the deadly missiles, fatally wounding her.
And so the villains stood over their own and realized what this Day had wrought upon them: Though they had taken out a Do-Gooder, their celebration would not be loud, for the cost was a high one. They had lost one of their own as well for with Poison Ivy's skills at protection.
The inmates stood over Storyteller, reverently, until her eyes finally fluttered, her chest gave a final gasp, and her tears soaked into the ground.
The final five inmates then slowly marched inside Arkham, and prepared themselves for the Dark Knight that was coming....
BlasterMaster AKA Alfred the Butler, a Do Gooder armed with his trusty Blunderbuss is no more.
StorytellerAKA Poison Ivy, a Baddie Doctor is no more.
It is now officially Night 9.
This night will be extra long just for NAF's Sake, since he was polite about it.
Please have your Night actions in by Saturday 6pm.
Dawn will be on Saturday around 9pm.
The inmates had made short work of the Day, as they gathered around the one known as BlasterMaster and called him out as a Do-Gooder who should be lynched. They began to laugh and joke around until the final hours counted down, and the sun began to settle down to give rise to the dark night.
However, one person was not in such jovial spirits:
"Come on now, good sirs! I can't possibly be Batman!" cried out BlaM
"We don't care! You could be one of his Do-Gooder Scummy Allies!" Cried out Darth Sensitive.
"But, but... heavens! I told you already! I'm Joe Chill!" said BlaM nervously backing away from the Bloodthirsty crowd.
"What? Who's Chill?" said Rysto. "Wasn't he that two-bit criminal who robbed the Waynes? Why would HE be at Arkham?"
"But He- I mean I! I created... Oh...." trailed BlaM, as realization seemed to dawn on his face. "Perhaps I've said too much then.... Well. Look over there! Poison Ivy's naked!"
"What?!?" called out NAF and Molefan, whipping their heads over to the opposite side of the room, as did the other inmates. Just then BlasterMaster chose to make his stand- ironically by running out the cafeteria doors and into the Halls of Arkham.
"You idiots! He's run off!" cried out Storyteller. "Quick! After him!"
And so the chase was on! The blood thirsty inmates began to scour the asylum trying to find the man known as Blastermaster, who had hidden amongst them for the last week. Sinjin and molefan could hear from the pipes Blaster's voice echoing from above- "Sir! Sir! They're on to me! Now would be a good time for Plan B!"
They both looked at each other and quickly ran up the stairs of the labyrinthine building, trying to find the Day's lynchee. But he was nowhere to be found upstairs.
The masons said they caught sight of someone running past them on the stairs- they said it was a man dressed in a tuxedo though. What kind of person was that? Who let a butler in Arkham? They too were futile in their search.
It was the others who chose to search outside then, between the walls of Arkham and the green electrical barrier who were lucky. They caught side of a figure, quickly working near one of the Lex-CorpEnergy Generators, and approached him....
"Halt!" cried out the figure to them. "Do not get any closer! I'm warning you!"
The villains laughed and snickered amongst themselves evilly. The man's fear was oozing into the air- you could taste the viscous tinge of sweat, tears, and grime. This was their element. They were in control here. NAF, Darth, Storyteller and Rysto began to advance on the trembling figure.
"Stop, I told you! Did not that Ash fellow warn you! He had a weapon, right! I tried to warn you as well, Joe Chill is always prepared!"
"Give it up, old man." laughed Storyteller. "Ash was just a liar, and his gun was a fake. And Joe Chill isn't bad enough to hang with US. And Joe Chill certainly doesn't wear a tuxedo. The game is up for you."
"Yeah! When we get our hands on your, you're gonna be pushing daisies" laughed Rysto.
The figured trembled in fear, "I'm sorry... but I have no choice then.... Stay away. I do not want to hurt anyone, but I will defend myself."
"Bah! He's bluffing! Let's get him!" cried out Darth Sensitive, and the Villains all rushed at BlasterMaster as one.
Blastermaster gave a cry of surprise, not expecting to actually be rushed by them. But he stoically stood his ground, a old man who knew his time had come, and he pulled out a long object from behind his coat jacket:a large wooden blunderbuss, ancient and rusty, but still filled with deadly buckshot.
He raised the gun up to his shoulders, the blood rushing in his head, steadied his aim, and fired into the crowd of villains, peppering them with the tiny missiles.
BLAM!
The sound was deafening, and the acrid smoke filled the cold dusk air, as the villains all crashed to the ground in various states of panic.
"Oh!!" cried out BlaM, clutching his heart though, and fell to cold Earth. A small trickle of blood came out of his nose, a tiny smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, until finally his eyes glazed over, and he breathed his last.
Rysto was the first to approach him. "Typical man.... When it came down to his, his gun was all talk and no action. Poor bastard's heart couldn't even take us all, looks like he's gone and killed himself from all the excitement. Can't say he was the first man to give out on me like that.... Stupid buckshot, did he really think that would be enough take us down?"
Story lay on the ground still, looking down at the trickle of blood on her side caused by the gun's buckshot. "This is just a minor annoyance. Though that man most certainly was a Do-Gooder. But who was he?"
"I... I think he's Bruce Wayne's butler," said Darth, groaning from the buckshot, and bleeding slightly from his shoulder. He recognized the figure on the ground. "His name was Alfred. But what's HE doing here? Did he get trapped in here, and manage to survive for a week with us?"
"Hey- Hey guys.... I think something's wrong with you, Story. You... you really don't look good!" whispered NAF, as the other villains came outside to see what all the noise was about.
Storyteller's eyes widened, and she bagan breathing deeper as her leaves began to fall and wither.... "What? This... this is nothing. I'm... fine. We've got to keep trying. We must... get rid of....
Bat-Man.... !" choked out Poison Ivy , coughing up blood.
"Oh my..." said NAF , as he noticed the large wound in Ivy's side. The other villains had merely taken the extra shots from the gun, but Storyteller had actually taken the direct full blow of the deadly missiles, fatally wounding her.
And so the villains stood over their own and realized what this Day had wrought upon them: Though they had taken out a Do-Gooder, their celebration would not be loud, for the cost was a high one. They had lost one of their own as well for with Poison Ivy's skills at protection.
The inmates stood over Storyteller, reverently, until her eyes finally fluttered, her chest gave a final gasp, and her tears soaked into the ground.
The final five inmates then slowly marched inside Arkham, and prepared themselves for the Dark Knight that was coming....
BlasterMaster AKA Alfred the Butler, a Do Gooder armed with his trusty Blunderbuss is no more.
StorytellerAKA Poison Ivy, a Baddie Doctor is no more.
It is now officially Night 9.
This night will be extra long just for NAF's Sake, since he was polite about it.
Please have your Night actions in by Saturday 6pm.
Dawn will be on Saturday around 9pm.