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Post by KELLAN ACCURSO on Nov 16, 2013 20:33:54 GMT -8
May 13, 2012 | 11:33 PMKellan ran a hand over the plastic casing of the iPhone, pressing a most thumb into it and tainting the plastic with his fingerprint. The black sheen, the allure of sleek technology, the promise of immediate contact between his fingers called to him. He sighed, and put the iPhone back, rejecting the siren-like beckoning and walking away. He preferred face-to-face conversations. There was a lot to be said about eye contact, body language, and other subtle nuances that could only be experienced in front of the person, things that you couldn’t experience with a phone. This was what Kellan told himself to make himself feel better. In reality, other than necessities, Kellan was to pay for his own things, and the money that his father had given him was steadily dwindling. His unhealthy wallet cried for substance, and Kellan was grief-stricken with the fact that he couldn’t give it anything. In the world of Mr. Giovanni Darzi-Accurso, he lived in royal poverty. He pulled at the collar of his golf shirt, and looked around for something less expensive and more important. As usual, he saw much he would like to have, less that he actually needed, and close to none that he could afford. DONOVAN SHEPHERD
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Post by DONOVAN SHEPHERD on Nov 17, 2013 2:59:17 GMT -8
Donovan tapped the screen of his own unresponsive iphone, not realizing how much he actually used it (not for calls nor texts) until he suddenly needed it to locate an electronics store. They seemed to be everywhere in the city at every corner, until the moment he was looking for one, and then it was if everything had transformed into a convenience store. Not helpful at all, although he stopped into one to grab a bottle of water.
Finally strolling into the store after giving in and asking direction, it was a bit overwhelming with the large displays of tv screens showing various movies he'd never seen, rows upon rows of computers and printers and things he wasn't quite sure what they did or why somebody would pay so much for them. But he had a mission to get a new power cord for his iphone after his snapped a few days ago and the power on his phone finally drained to nothing. He wouldn't get distracted.
Except he had no idea where to look, wandering the aisles a bit lost but not wanting to bother any of the employees in case they started trying to convince him to purchase things he could neither afford nor understand how to use. Pushy sales people made him rather uncomfortable. He finally came to a collection of various cords and adapters on the wall, and squinted a bit suspiciously at all the various shapes and sizes. Which one did he even need? What model was his phone? Donovan frowned and examined his dead iphone, because it was a few years old and did that make a difference? He watched a few sales people go by and sighed.
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Post by KELLAN ACCURSO on Nov 17, 2013 21:06:32 GMT -8
As Kellan perused the aisle, the man outside, in the swamp-tinged ’73 Camaro, with the gun, pulled a mask over his face. He was called Harv. Harv was a lean man in his mid-thirties with molten eyes and a charismatic smile made for war. He switched off the safety on his pistol, the dangerous sound echoing with a click. He looked at his partner with an incline of the head, who would be sitting in the passenger seat. They had the bags, their guns cocked and loaded, their bodies clad in black, their goal firmly emblazoned into their minds—they were ready. “Let’s go,” said Harv, in a surprisingly smooth, honey-baked voice. Harv opened the door. Meanwhile, Kellan, with his hand mid-reach for another uselessly expensive item, noticed the swamp-tinged ’73 Camaro and eyed it with interest—not because of the man coming out of it, but because that the man had the audacity to drive the wonderful abomination out on the streets. There was a silent click of approval for the driver, whoever he was. DONOVAN SHEPHERD
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Post by DONOVAN SHEPHERD on Nov 18, 2013 4:49:02 GMT -8
Grabbing whatever looked like the closest approximation to something that'd fit his phone, and checking the "compatible with" label on the back of the package, Donovan headed over to the register to stand in the thankfully short line. The girl at the register chatted cheerfully with the customer ahead of him purchasing an overly large flat screen TV. There really wasn't anything else he cared to look at, no need to start admiring the computers when he'd already convinced himself that he didn't have any use for one, but he poked at the display of blu-rays by the register to pass the time while waiting.
From the passenger seat, Leroy grinned menacingly with a mouthful of missing teeth, before pulling the mask down to conceal his own face. A man of few words, he simply nodded to Harv in reply before pushing open the car door, combat boots hitting the pavement. He took the lead as planned, wasting no time marching into the electronics store with a booming yell as soon as he kicked open the door. "Everyone on the floor!" And fired a warning shot right into a display of flatscreens, the screen shattering.
Admiring the buff armor-wearing man on the cover of the Immortals movie, and wishing he had a player to watch it on until he saw the price printed on the sticker, Donovan froze before he had a chance to shove it back onto the shelf.
Well, that wasn't good.
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Post by KELLAN ACCURSO on Nov 18, 2013 18:45:12 GMT -8
(OOC: I was thinking that the electronics store looked a little like this, but a lot smaller. It's just a cozy little store, with three aisles and a cash register at the end of the shop. Kellan's at the aisle on the very right, and the line for the cash register swerves into the left aisle, and we're assuming Donovan is at the very end of the line. And, well, on the ground. Also, sorry for dropping the task of getting the money on you. I don't . . . actually know how this all works. Other than flashing their guns, grabbing their money and leaving.)Harv walked down the aisles, his dress shoes polished to shine. He was crisp man, with crisp standards. “You,” he said, pointing his well-oiled pistol at the man holding a cover of a movie, “get down. Now.” The pistol felt slicked in his grasp, and the promise of authority and power tingled in his fingers. He liked the feeling, but he didn’t smile to show it. Without waiting for a response—and he was normally a patient man, but the dominance in the store was to be asserted—Harv grabbed the man by the scruff of the collar and threw him to the ground. It was a small mercy for Donovan that the tiled floor shone with care. He glanced in Leroy's direction. “And, please, no dilly-dallying.” Leroy had been assigned the task of actually waving the gun in front of the cashier's face, with Harv as back-up (and there to pick up any thing he wanted, while he was at it), but he was mainly there for crowd control. Meanwhile, Kellan slithered as sly as a snake, his belly sliding with ease across the floor. He moved inch by inch, little by little, poco a poco. He was smart enough, at least, to avoid actions that would lead to a bullet neatly implanted into the side of his head. The exit, however, seemed like a whole world away. He had been perusing the items by the cash register, and had fallen to the floor the moment the gun sounded. DONOVAN SHEPHERD
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Post by DONOVAN SHEPHERD on Nov 19, 2013 4:17:30 GMT -8
After the initial screams of terror, the electronics shop fell into compliant silence with the shoppers huddled on the floor and behind shelves for protection. Nobody was brave enough to protest, nobody running forth to play the daring hero. Donovan's chin had smacked the tile as he was thrown roughly to the floor, his glasses skidding away a couple feet. He was unable to determine whether they were out of reach or not, but wasn't going to chance grabbing for them and bringing anymore unnecessary attention. His vision was too blurry to make out anything going on, but maybe that was a blessing as he heard the gravelly voice of the robber shouting demands at the cashier.
"All of the money in your register!" Leroy waved his gun in the trembling girl's face, her hands clumsy as she rushed to comply but failed to get the register open quickly enough for Leroy's impatience. The cops would arrive soon, and he didn't have time for this. "Stop fucking around, dumb bitch!" he growled, smacking the cashier in the side of the face with his pistol.
How rude. Donovan doubted hitting anyone would get them to go any faster, but he wasn't about to start offering suggestions. Hoping that was enough distraction, he groped around blindly for his glasses and shoved them back on his face. And that's when he noticed Kellan, squinting at the slithering boy with some confusion. What the hell did he think he was doing?
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Post by KELLAN ACCURSO on Nov 20, 2013 18:05:01 GMT -8
It was like the man became an abiotic. He fell to the floor in a graceless slump, and lay there, unmoving. It was almost infuriating, but Harv was a patient man, and he let the man off with a brief shoe-prodding with his well-polished shoes. At least somebody had known who was on top. After a brief, clashing symphony of human surprise, the little electronics shop fell into a comfortable silence. Harv whistled casually, as though he were strolling down a sunbaked street rather than plucking off a pair of headphones from the rack. He’d needed a new pair, and he was missing the Kinks. That Leroy. Couldn’t he pretend to be a little more civilized? And then, after a thought, he supposed he couldn’t. He could have made an effort to pretend, though. At least for his sake. Maybe the cashier would’ve complied a little more faster if she were threatened by a smooth, sonorous voice. “Maybe a little faster, please?” It was an imperative question mark. Kellan, on the other hand, had slithered a little more than a centimetre, and at the pace he was moving, he’d be at the door by the end of the day. He didn’t think anybody would notice his wiggling. If he was lucky. And he usually wasn’t. DONOVAN SHEPHERD
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Post by DONOVAN SHEPHERD on Nov 22, 2013 5:19:41 GMT -8
Leroy rolled his eyes at Harv's interjection. "I'm handling it," he ground out with some irritation. The cashier popped open the drawer and started pulling out the cash, wary of what seemed to be some tension between the two robbers and hoping not to be caught in the middle. Most of the purchases made in the electronics store were via credit card, so there wasn't as much as Leroy hoped. He stood there, waiting for her to put more on the counter, until he realized there was no more to come.
"That's it?" he demanded with an aggressive gesture to the money, leaning across the counter to get a look at the empty register. That was it. The cashier frowned, holding her hands up, knowing she wasn't to blame for the lack of money but hoping the robbers saw it that way too. Luckily she was only met with a snarl.
As Leroy busily shoved the money into his bag, another customer began sneaking up behind Harv, armed with a speaker grabbed from a display and all intentions to smash it over his head.
Donovan sighed as he watched everything escalate, using what would likely be a messy confrontation as a distraction to start backing away and hopefully out of what become the line of fire. Backing away right into the sizable blu-ray display by the register, accidentally sending it crashing toward Leroy.
Well, shit. He wasted no time to push himself up just enough to dart away before Leroy had a chance to identify what happened or who was responsible, hiding behind some big-screen tvs.
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Post by KELLAN ACCURSO on Dec 10, 2013 15:59:42 GMT -8
“Should’ve went with the bank,” said Harv, looking over Leroy’s shoulder with mild interest. He’d gone and rewarded himself with a new MP3 Player—it was green, shiny, and wonderfully old-fashioned. He was all set. The problem, however, would be leaving the electronics store unscathed. As Harv walked away from the counter, another man was walking up to it, carefully, with his fingers rightly curled around a speaker. And, without warning, he brought it down on Leroy’s head at the same moment a Blu-ray display avalanched down on both of them. Harv had the manners to wince in sympathy. The explosion of sound seemed to have acted as a trigger, because people were shouting, and some were even making a hasty retreat to the other side of the store, where the entrance would be. Kellan was among these people, having jumped to his feet the moment he saw the speaker crack against Leroy’s skull. Even though he was running, quite literally, for his life, he couldn’t help the exhilarated eyes, wide with a feral kind of frenzy. This was exciting. Harv, on the other hand, raised his gun to the air and pulled the trigger without hesitation. Another bang ricocheted, the sound drenched with the promise of a swift death. Harv’s face was blank. Everybody dropped to the ground immediately. Kellan slowed to a walk, and turned to face Harv, breathing heavily. Harv couldn’t help but notice the boy’s lip twitch with the threat of something he couldn’t believe would occur. “Everybody,” he said, “please calm down, or I’ll shoot you.” He turned to Leroy. “Leroy? Let’s go.” They were done here. DONOVAN SHEPHERD
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Post by DONOVAN SHEPHERD on Dec 14, 2013 20:59:30 GMT -8
So the man fancied himself a hero, and a dazed Leroy rewarded his bravery by shooting him in the side, aim luckily a bit off to do any immediately fatal damage. "Please?" Leroy grumbled in clear irritation at his partner's insistence of polite language, as if any of the spineless bystanders deserved their consideration. This wasn't church or lunch with granny. But leaving, that he agreed with, his head ringing and a trickle of blood soaking underneath his mask. No doubt the police would be there soon, and Leroy wasn't wanting to draw this out any longer. But with as little money taken from the register, he stubbornly grabbed a handful of the fallen blurays off the floor along with the cellphone charger that one of the shoppers had dropped, sure he could make a few extra bucks to make this mess worth his while. Where'd that scrawny nerd go, anyway? But Leroy didn't have time to care about whether any of the shoppers had managed to escape, not interested in chasing them down.
Leroy liked to think his time was more important than that. Following Harv, he made a point to step on instead of over as many people laying on the ground as possible, to assert his dignity. But there was one foolish boy still standing near the exit, and Leroy backhanded Kellan with his pistol on his way out. "Fucking brat," he grunted, unamused at the defiance. People needed to learn their places if they didn't want to suffer the consequences.
When the robbers finally left, people started slowly pulling themselves off the floor, in various states of relief and shock. Donovan dusted himself off, confused as to what just occurred. Any plans to just get out and avoid being asked for a report when the police showed up were instantly disregarded, seeing the injured man and the growing pool of blood by the register. Donovan didn't consider himself an expert in handling any sort of medical emergencies, but he knew well enough that blood was supposed to stay inside the body. After searching for the gunshot wound through the stained clothes, he pressed his hands tightly over the source of the blood. But more needed to be done. He pulled out his phone, smearing red across the screen in a desperate attempt to turn it on. But the battery was dead, he remembered, dropping it uselessly to the floor to reapply his hand back over the wound. "Can anybody call an ambulance?" he yelled out, gaze catching Kellan, uncertain if authorities were even on the way yet.
He wanted to ask how he managed to get himself involved in such things, but with the man's blood getting all over him, he realized it could definitely be worse.
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Post by KELLAN ACCURSO on Jan 3, 2014 20:07:38 GMT -8
Kellan was an idiot.
He should have braced himself for impact, but he had just stood there, as though invincible, and nobody could touch him. This notion was obliterated immediately when the grumpier man smacked his temple with the butt of his pistol, sending him sprawling to the floor.
And then the robbers left, leaving Kellan reeling with an emotion he couldn’t quite place a word on—fear and adrenaline and wonder all thrown into a hotpot.
He didn’t know how long he was on the ground—he thought somebody had asked him for a cellphone, but he didn’t carry cellphones on his person, so he’d shook his head. Eventually, somebody offered one, and the blare of the ambulance accompanied strobe lights, and then he was back in his room, folded cross-legged atop his bed. He had no idea what had happened in between.
Well, he thought with a pained grin, let’s go sneak into Mr. Giovanni’s basement.
END
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TERRESA
UNKNOWN ENTITY
RESIDENT UNICORN
小書瑀
Posts: 105
MINI INFO - GENDER: Female
MINI INFO - D.O.B.: HOW DARE YOU ASK A WOMAN HER AGE?
MINI INFO - OCCUPATION: Guardian Kirin of the White Rice Paddies
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Post by TERRESA on Jan 23, 2014 11:44:18 GMT -8
| | | Finished Thread
As this thread is now complete it has been placed in the archives under the 'finished' sub-board. You are more than welcome to PM fate if this thread is not finished or if you are unhappy/unsatisfied with the amount of residue that has been rewarded. Keep up the great work and keep posting with other members.
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