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HBKDX97 View Drop Down
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    Posted: 20/April/2012 at 18:28
*Malcolm Watson jumps off of his horse into the middle of the town street and sniffs the air.*

Malcolm: Damn it, just in time for the next drive too. Thunderstorms are just what I need right now.

*He pats his horse on the flank, thanking her for the ride. Changing into a horse and speaking her own language would've been better, but it was crowded tonight, as the town was mourning the loss of many brave souls who had recently died in a mine explosion. Their funeral had been held earlier in the day, and the more boisterous fellows (aka: the drunks, he thought) were posting themselves in the saloon, generally being drunk and disorderly.*

Malcolm: Fun for me. I either get incredibly drunk, incredibly fucked, or get into an incredibly good bar brawl. More fun than sittin' around watching cows shit, eat, shit some more, then sleep.

*He ties his horse to a post outside the bar, and continues to walk in. But right before he gets there, he stops and sniffs again.*

Malcolm: That ozone smell is incredibly strong in there. Oh well.

*He pulls his hat down a little bit lower, then steps through the doors and enters the bar.*



Edited by HBKDX97 - 21/April/2012 at 00:28
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Baz Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 20/April/2012 at 19:01
*Nero walks into the town scuffing his feet along the way*

Nero: The skies don't look good, I must take shelter before the storm hits just incase that dreaded lighting comes close, brrr lightning gives me the shivers.

*Nero takes in his surrondings, see's a sheriff's office, the saloon, a blacksmiths and a few other things he can't quite make out*

Nero: I don't think I should hit the blacksmiths I may cause a stir there, so it's best I hide out in the saloon until this thing passes.

*Nero takes a few deep breaths to calm himself down and swings open the sallon doors*

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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Steven Nyte Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 20/April/2012 at 20:21
Alexander Williams: "A storm is approaching. We better get the divers out. Jason, will you go pull the lines while I tell the crew to fire up the chamber?"

Jason raises his head at his fathers words. He had been staring at the floor for the better part of 4 hours now, not wanting to disturb his fathers experiments on high pressure diving suits. He knew that outside, there would be 4 rope lines, which would be tied to the divers, notifying them of the command to come up. With a nod of his head, Jason acknowledged his fathers command. It was phrased as a question, but Jason knew, Alexander Williams did not ask questions. It was obey and live a good life or do not obey and be punished. The Williams household worked that way ever since Elaine Williams, Jason´s mother, died. Pushing his hair out of his face, Jason rose to his feet. He watched his father leave the room through a side door, heard the hissing of a steam engine behind the door. Sighing quietly, Jason made his way to the main entrance to the lab. 

The brass door swung open quietly, perfectly oiled hinges not making a single sound. Outside, Jason glanced at the sky. Dark clouds were rolling in over the land while the ocean glinted in the setting sun. Carefully, Jason rounded the lab until he stood on the edge of the open sea. In the distance, several warships were anchored, their mighty chimneys only smoking slightly. On the right side of the concrete pier was Alexander Williams proudest invetion. Glinting in the low sun, it looked like a metal whale had come to the surface. The submarine prototype. Men were entering and exiting the vessel through the topside hatch, their faces sceptic as they entered and fascinated as the emerged again. 

Jason shook his head. He´d better give the divers their signal, they would need some time to come up from the deep trench they had been diving into to test the new suits. Walking over to the edge of the pier, Jason found the four ropes. After giving each rope a good tug, Jason stood, looking over the water again. He liked being in the open, wide space always calmed him down on the inside. Sighing again, Jason turned back towards the lab, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he made his way back.

"WATCH IT!!!!!"

The sudden roar of the vehicle startled Jason and made him spin around in shock. Suddenly, he was blinded by two bright headlights. Instantly, Jason felt his body getting lighter and lighter, still he raised his arms in front of his head instinctively to shield off the impact.... that never came, smoothly, the transport vehicle passed through Jason, the steel brakes screeching as the driver pulled the emergency brake. Swiftly, Jason moved to the side, phasing out of the vehicle with ease and threw himself on the floor while focussing hard to return his body to normal. 

"Godsdamnit, kid, I could´a killed you! You gotta be careful, man! I can´t get this steel giant to stop like that!"

The red faced driver appeared on the side of his vehicle, his eyes wide in shock and relief at the same time as he saw Jason on the floor, apparently unharmed.

Jason: I´m..... I´m sorry. I was in thought....

"Well, you better cut that out from now, or it could be your last thoughts someday!"

Jason: Yes... sorry again.

Jason rose to his feet as the driver got into his vehicle again, slamming his fist onto the big red ignition button. A mechanism roared to life, shoveling coals into a blazing fire. Steam billowed from a small smokestack on top of the vehicle as it slowly began to move again. Jason heard the driver mutter and curse over the roar of the steam engine for a few seconds, then the vehicle had moved away.

Dusting himself off, Jason made his way back to the lab. His thoughts were racing. It was so close again. If somebody found out about him. About his... being... different. If his father would find out. Jason had to be more careful. He closed the brass door behind him as he entered the lab. Alexander Williams was already back, checking gauges, barely noticing his sons return.

Jason: The divers are notified father.

Alexander Williams: Good. This is going to be some storm, the weather guys are pretty worried that it will bring thunder and lightning. With all the metal equipment on base, we would be a very decent lightning rod, they say. 

Jason shrugged, a motion unseen by his father, then sat down on the same place as before. Now, he didn´t stare at the floor though, he gazed through the window at the incoming clouds, darkening the skies. Some storm...
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote DangerZone Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 20/April/2012 at 20:42
Shadowfear is practicing his sword kata in the rain, he still makes mistakes but has improved ten fold since Germany. As he nears the end of his routine he starts to think about his next destination, his search has so far led to nothing but there has to be something, somewhere, there has to be. He tries to remember what his life used to be like but his recollections are foggy, has he been losing his sense of who he was through using his powers? he can't be sure.

He decides to head east, He's been halfway across Europe and still he is no closer to discovering anything about his powers. Its only a matter of time until he discovers something, he just has to keep looking. Something blocks out the moonlight, he looks up to see a zeppelin gracefully traveling through the sky. He decides he will fly on those marvels soon, maybe after the next town.


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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote bigfloridapimp Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 20/April/2012 at 21:07
The saloon was hopping. People laughing and swigging down whiskey, playing cards, and getting laid upstairs. Smoke and booze polluted the air heavily. All seems upbeat and skanky except for a tall and slender man with his Baron hat tipped and green wool poncho covering his torso. No this man seems at an unrest. He sips on his triple x whiskey, which each sip he lets out a sigh of satisfaction.

A heavily intoxicated fat woman with a feather sticking out of her hair stumbles over the the man and asks, "What is your name stranger? Looking for a good time?" The man doesn't reply and continues to sip his triple x whiskey. "Well fuck you!" The fat woman exclaims. "I bet your dick is so small you piss on your balls anyway." She shouts as she waddles over to another man playing 5 card stud.

The man in the baron hat and green wool poncho stays quite and continues on with what he was doing like nothing had happened, when the saloon doors kick open and a man walks through. His hat is tipped down so low you wonder if he can even see where he is going. He marches right toward the man in the baron hat and green wool poncho and sits next to him at the bar. "Anything good to drink here? I might as well stick to the whiskey, the girls here (nods to the fat chick) don't exactly look worth the effort."

The man finishes his last sip of whiskey and stands up. He looks down on the other man with a stern glare. "Hey buddy my name is Malcolm. I didn't say anything to offend you did I?" says the man. The man in the baron hat and green poncho tips his bill at Malcolm and slams a coin down onto the bar. Without saying a word he leaves the saloon.
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote HBKDX97 Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 20/April/2012 at 21:19
Malcolm: Hmm. Don't know what jumped into that man's chaps. Anyway.

*He takes his seat at the bar and flips a couple of coins to the bartender.*

Malcolm: Drop me down three shots, 'tender. Just set me up with your best.

*The bartender looks him over, silently thinking that this cowboy wasn't from anywhere around here. He nods to Malcolm and sets him up with three shots of Wild Turkey. He slides them down the bar, and Malcolm quickly knocks them back, before ordering two more. *

Malcolm: And this time your best. I know you have better than damn Wild Turkey, now quit beatin' the devil around the stump and unclench your fist a bit.

*The bartender stares for a second, then grudgingly nods and grabs under the bar, pulling out a special stock of Mexican tequila. He cleans out two more shot glasses, thinking that tonight will be a long one.*
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote thundarr2000 Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 20/April/2012 at 23:17

“If yer lookin’ fer work, I suggest ya keep movin’,” the grizzled old man gruffed to Nero Jones.

Nah,” Nero shook his head.  He glanced out the saloon large window.  The once distant lightning was rapidly closing.  “I’m just passing through.  Ya know, looking for a spot to wait out the storm.”

“Hmm,” the man grunted.  

A dust-covered man sat down next at the same table as Nero and the old man. “They mined that mountain clean.  Ain’t nothin’ left but bad luck.”

“And death,” added the old man before he spat in a rusty spittoon. 

Nero glanced about the saloon.  The whole place seemed to have a fine layer of dirt and grime over it.   Smoke mixed with desperation in the air.   There was still a fair amount of drunken debauchery going on.  But this was no celebration.  It was more like an Irish wake.

A fat woman stumbled over.  She laughed loudly as she approached.  “Griz, you ol’ coot,” she leaned on the back of Nero’s chair.  The wood creaked.  “You up for a lil’ fun?” she attempted to sound coy.  The cheap whiskey on her breath made Nero’s eyes burn.

“That’s the best offer I’ve had in a long time,” the old man chuckled.  “See ya fellars later,” he said as climbed to his feet.”  The duo chuckled as the headed for the stairs.

Thunder roared.  The windows shook and the doors blew open.  The sky was black and the street outside looked like midnight.  Then the lightning cracked.  Nero felt a tingle in his feet.

“Damn,” the young man sighed.  “My pa used ta call these a wrath of God storm.  But I don’t know what they’d be out ‘ere.  God’s forsaken this place.”  He knocked back his shot of whiskey.  “Hell, look at me.  I’ve done near f’rgotten all my manners,” he wiped his soiled hand on his equally dirty pants.  “The name’s Cole.  But y’all can call me Mike.”

Jones,” Nero said as he shook Cole’s hand.

“I’m expectin’ fer gonna be head down to Southfork.  Gettin’ on a train?”

Um,” Nero nodded. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Damn, I wish I was headin’ out wit ya.  Ain’t no point in diggin’ in that ol’ mountain anymore.  Not now that the coppers run out.”

Copper?” Nero said stunned.

“Why sure.  The mine was most folks worked around here.  Course, since the explosion a week ago, there ain’t been much work.”

So,” Nero pressed the topic.  “Does that mean there’s copper veins running through the area?

“Probably,” Cole searched his pocket for more money to buy another drink.  “Just those lil’ piddly veins that ain’t work minin’.  Why?”

Cooper is conductive,” Nero said.  It was more like thinking aloud.  “The current from any nearby lightning strike could be carried through the entire area.”

“I guess,” Cole replied.  He was too tipsy to really understand Nero.  “Damn, what a day.  Public hangin’ and a damn fine funeral.”

Funeral?”  Nero snapped out of his drifting thoughts.

“Yeah,” Cole was still sifting through his pockets.  “We lost 21 good men in that explosion.  Hey, ya wouldn’t have two bits ya spare?”  Nero reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of coins.  “Much obliged.”

Nero watched as Cole went to the bar to get another drink.  Cole began to talk to man that seemed out of place.  The man accompanied Cole make to the table.  He placed his half full bottle of tequila down in the center of the table.  “Mind if I join you? ” he asked with a grin.

It’s a free state,” Nero replied. 

Fair enough,” the stranger sat down.  “The name’s Malcolm by the way.”

Jones,” Nero offered his hand.  Cole slammed back his shot.

“Well, well.  Looky there,” Cole sneared.

Nero turned while Malcolm more subtly shifted just his gaze.  Coming down the staircase was man wearing a black cloak.  His graying hair was well groomed and his goatee was groomed and clean.  He carried a cane with a shiny silver handle. In short, he was completely out of place.  Following closely behind was a very large black man.  His head was clean shaven.  He carried a suitcase in each hand.

Who’s that? ” Nero wondered aloud.

“Some professor fella the minin’ company hired,” Cole grimaced as he spoke.  “He was s’pose to find us another line to work.  But the only time anybody saw him was the day of the explosion.”

He seems to be a bit of a rush,” Malcolm observed.

“Well, folks think he’s bad luck,” Cole answered.  “Ain’t nobody gonna miss him.”

The gray haired man quickly slipped through the crowd.  As if on cue, a stage stopped outside the saloon.  The gray haired man and his apparent servant climbed in.  The coachman snapped the reigns and the stage raced away.

“Good riddance!” somebody shouted.  A roar of laughter burst through the room.

Say Jones,” Malcolm said.  “Have you notice that for all the thunder and lightning… not a single drop of rain has fallen here?

“Figures,” Cole cut off Nero before he could reply.  “This drought is just gettin’ worse.  Half the wells are dry.  This whole town is starting to shrivel up and die.”

A man charged through the doors.  He bent over and with his hands on his knees.  He was panting heavily. 

“Harley what the hell’s up with you?  You look like you seen a ghost,” the bartender shouted.  The crowd again laughed.

“I---I just saw--,” he fought to catch his breath.   “I just saw Boone.”

“You mean you saw his grave stone,” the bartender corrected.

“Nah,” Harley finally caught his breath.  “I saw Boone walking down the street.  I saw all of them walking down the street.”

The room turned silent.  “All of who?” the bartender asked.

“All them boys that was in that cave-in.  All the boys we done buried this morning.  I swear.  They gone dug themselves right out the dirt.  They’s dead-- but they came right out of the ground.  And they’s comin’ this way!”

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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote HBKDX97 Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 21/April/2012 at 00:26
It makes sense, I guess. Malcolm thought. Some ol' boy, so shook up with this explosion they keep talkin' about, gets drunk and starts seein' dead people. He's probably drunker than a skunk. He stood up and addressed the crowd of folks in the saloon, rather drunkenly himself.

"Now lissen here, errybody. I dunno what's going on in this town, but people can't just get up out of the grave and walk aroun'! You'd be crazy to believe this while you were sober!"

Nero looked out the window, and jerked a thumb out of the window, and said:

"Well, that guy sure does look he crawled out of somewhere."

Malcolm walked outside and came face to face with "Boone". His face was still charred from the blast, and his torso was blown inwards, making his body seem disproportionate in comparison. His skin had taken on a blackish/grey hue, and the smell wafted off of him in a wave that almost made Malcolm throw up his tequila. His heightened sense revealed that this guy, in fact, did smell slightly... deceased. In Malcolm's drunken state, however, he rationalized it with a simple "Damn terrible cologne."

"How goes it, Boonesy?" he asked, walking towards him and putting out a hand. "Nice of ya to drop on in. What booze hole did you crawl ou--"

The zombie lunged out and attempted to rip Malcolm's face off. But Malcolm saw it coming, and dodged to one side, simultaneously drawing is revolver, and when the zombie turned back around, he planted the barrel underneath the monster's chin and pulled the trigger. The round exploded, and the zombie's head blew outwards and dead brain matter flew out to splatter against the window of the saloon, soliciting screams from everyone except Nero. Mike Cole promptly fainted.

Malcolm kicked the zombie in the chest with his heel, and the cadaver fell limply to the side.

"You motherFUCKER. All I'm tryin' to do come into town and get comfortably drunk, and you have to come back from the grave and make me kill you again. You better stay down you--"

"Hey! You drunken idiot!" shouted Nero, and Malcolm quit his ranting. "We've got more shit to worry about." he said, and pointed down the street.

A horde of freshly reanimated corpses stood silently in shadow. Utter stillness and chilling unnaturalness radiated from their mass.

"Ohhhh shit." Malcolm snarled, as he slowly backed into the saloon.
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote thundarr2000 Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 21/April/2012 at 04:13

“For future reference Gamba, I don’t like having to scurry away like a common thief.”

“My apologies Doctor,” Gamba’s deep voice rumbled through the speeding stagecoach.   The large black man with the shaven head lowered his gaze.

Doctor Lazarus stroked his gray goatee in thought.  “It cannot be helped now.  The lightning provided the necessary catalysis for the re-animation process, exactly as I expected.  I must get this new formula back to my laboratory in London for further analysis.”

“Understood Doctor,” Gamba nodded.  “Your private car has been prepared and waits at the station.  A train has been arranged to transport you back to New York.  Special transportation is being acquired to expedite your return to London.”

“Excellent,” Lazarus grinned.  He stared out the window for a moment.  His grip on the silver handle of his cane tightened.   After a few silent moments he chuckled slightly.  “I admit I’m a little disappointed.  I so enjoy watching my zombies wreaking havoc.  But we have no time for such entertainment.  There are bigger plans afoot at the moment.”

“Yes Doctor,” Gamba agreed.

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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote bigfloridapimp Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 21/April/2012 at 04:30
*Moments earlier...*

The man in the baron hat and green poncho is outside of the saloon, he pulls a cigar out of his pocket and lights it before wandering off into the night fog. A town local passes by, stops dead in his tracks and calls out, "Hey man! Don't I know you?" The mysterious man looks back and shakes his head no solemnly. "Yea, yea I do. Don't the Mexican's call you Energia? They say you have some sort of special energy about you or something, they believe in that hocus pocus shit. Me I think it is a bunch of horse manure." The man says aggressively.

"Energia" looks down to the ground and pulls the hand made cigar to his lips and takes a good long puff before letting the smoke out ever so gently, drawing in the slightest amount and exhaling. "If you're looking for trouble buddy, this is not the place you should be looking." He says with an eerie calm to his voice. "What if I am this 'Energia'? Do you have a problem with that?"

The other man pulls a knife out and shouts, "Fuck you. I should kill you just for me not knowing you, you son of a bitch!" Energia closes his eyes and tosses his cigar out to his right. Without opening his eyes he asks the man a question. "Before I kill you, I have to ask. Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moon light?" The other man takes a step back baffled, in a frustrated rage he charges with the knife, as he raises it in the air the moon shines off of it, it's so bright it could blind a man. Energia puts his hand out and the man stops dead in his tracks, dropping the knife and falling to a knee. "What the fuck are you doing to me?!" The man asks in panic.

Energia sucks the life energy from the man weakening him, but he won't stop there, in a fit of quite and calm rage he draws the energy in and uses it in one grand explosion of power sending the energy out through his right fist as he punches the man in the chest. The man gasps one last time for air before his heart is stopped from the blow. A few towns people rush out to check on the man but he has no pulse, he is dead. Energia stands tall and unfazed. He looks up at the people with no remorse as he turns to walk away. "You killed him with one punch, what are you?" asks a panic stricken woman kneeling over the now dead mans body. Energia replies, "Anywhere to sleep around here?"
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