Because someone has to live in Canada

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Because someone has to live in Canada

Post by Guest on Fri Nov 01, 2013 4:10 pm

In a small tavern just outside of Ontario, a super manly fucker sat drinking a scotch on the rocks. Downing the whole glass in a single triumphant gulp, he slammed the empty alcohol carrier back onto the bar. "Gimme another, mate!" he yelled, obviously very, very drunk.

"I think you've had enough," the concerned bartender squeamishly said, trying to take the glass away.

"I ain't had enough!" the man screamed back, grabbing the glass and taking a scotch-soaked ice cube into his mouth before crushing it up and swallowing it. "I'm from fucking 'Straya, mate! I got fucking swords! I never get enough to drink!" He smashed the glass on the ground, jumping up from his seat and stomping around the bar, posturing to anyone who would listen. The bartender quickly began dialing the number for the local police, starting to fear for his life. He'd seen many drunks in his day, but this tourist was the only one who came in heavily armed.

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Re: Because someone has to live in Canada

Post by Kilquan Suffraxon on Fri Nov 22, 2013 1:38 am

A cold wind seemed to thrust the door wide open and it slammed against the wall. It slowly started to close before a eerie, lanky figure appeared in the doorway and stopped it from closing entirely with his foot. He soon was looking at the bartender and it seemed odd that he didn't go past the threshold of the doorway. "May I?" he asked. The bartender merely nodded before the darkly clad gentleman entered and set his top hat on a table along with his mask. His face was flushed with false color and his coat was soon slung on the back of his chair.

He watched the drunkard and the bartender intently, as well as the others in the bar, intent on another meal. He was waiting for the big score however. He had heard sirens close behind him, along with the flashing of lights signifying the police. It was close to show time.

"Excuse me sir," he said, his breath sending a chill down a few patron's spines as his icy breath made the room mildly of rotten flesh, "The authorities are on the way and I think you might need some help. Promise not to judge?" he asked as he slowly rose and gargled with a freshly stolen beer before spitting it back into the glass and smashing it hard on the table, sending the backwash onto the patron it belonged to who merely gawked at the man.


Last edited by Kilquan Suffraxon on Sat Nov 23, 2013 1:47 pm; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : Coloring Speaking Text)

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Re: Because someone has to live in Canada

Post by Guest on Fri Nov 22, 2013 11:57 am

(OOC) Police in Canada carry Smith & Wesson Model 5946 pistols loaded with 10 9mm hollow-point Parabellum rounds with an extra magazine. They also use tasers, pepper spray, and expandable 21 inch batons, including various other police equipment (handcuffs, flashlight, etc.).

The owner of the stolen beer was heartbroken, and more than a bit drunk himself. Rising from his seat he attempted to punch the man, only for an Australian fist of justice to connect with his face and send him over the bar. "Everyone needs help. Especially people who wear a cape," he replied, wandering over to find two men in the middle of a fight and comically smashing their heads together.

The first punch indicated to the rest of the patrons that it was time for action, hence the other two men currently brawling with Kieron. A police car pulled up outside of the bar, two officers making their way inside. Seeing the scene before them, one offhandedly requested backup into his radio, the other extending a baton to try and breakup the fight.

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Re: Because someone has to live in Canada

Post by Kilquan Suffraxon on Sat Nov 23, 2013 2:06 pm

It had been quite a while since he had done anything this fun, so Kilquan decided to enjoy it. He had always been one for manipulation, but why bother when it could just become a bloodbath? As the cops entered, Kilquan was making his way calmly towards the two men on the ground out cold.

He leaned down and listened to their heartbeat, the sound driving him mad with hunger. He began to sob in a ridiculously as he buried his head into the man'd neck. He diligently brought the man up to him, keeping his head buried in the man's neck. "He's dead!" he proclaimed tragically as he slipped one of his needles stealthily into the man's spinal cord at the base of his neck, "My brother is dead!" he sobbed before curling his lips back and beginning to sink in his fangs and draw blood from the man, both sending Kilquan into a crimson high, but also turning the man into a ghoul. Playing cops like fools seemed like an easy enough task, but if not, his umbrella was close enough.

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Re: Because someone has to live in Canada

Post by Guest on Sat Nov 23, 2013 3:37 pm

(OOC) Going to take a post or two before he gets up. Just letting you know.

He had just finished "countering" a man trying to break a chair over his head, drunkenly imitating the Arkham City combat system while proclaiming, "I'm Batman!" in a slurred bout of rage. The officer with the baton came forward, striking him behind the knee. He went down, but only for a moment. He grabbed the baton on the second attempt, pulling it free of the man's grip and kicking him in the groin. Getting to his feet with a stumble, he smacked the Mountie with the handle end of the stick twice before he lost consciousness.

He noticed the guy in the cape who he'd conversed with previously, crying over a man who was probably not really his brother. What struck him as odd was that he shouldn't have been dead. A punch to the jaw wouldn't be enough for that. Not with the way he was now, at least; he was sure of that. This was sober talk, though, and he was anything but. He charged the other officer who had just pulled his gun. He had him on the ground, holding the weapon above the officer's head as he punched him in the face multiple times.

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Re: Because someone has to live in Canada

Post by Kilquan Suffraxon on Sat Nov 23, 2013 9:24 pm

As the man's last drop of sanguine essence left his body, Kilquan dropped him to the ground and looked up towards the police officers who had fallen. He placed his umbrella in his maw and began to scuttle towards the downed police officer on all fours in a horrid display of contortion. As he reached the officer, he lifted his legs up in the air to stand on his hands before pushing himself off the ground and landing elegantly on his feet.

As he took his umbrella from his maw he asked the officer, "Do you know how much pressure it takes to separate a man's limb from the socket?" He waited for a second as he made a grab for the man's leg and placed his foot on his already sore crotch, "Neither do I! Time to find out!" Kilquan, if successful with the grab would then swiftly attempt to snatch the man's leg off with the vamperic might he did have.

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Re: Because someone has to live in Canada

Post by Guest on Sat Nov 23, 2013 9:36 pm

Noticing that the officer had been unconscious for a bit now, he finally stopped punching. Off in the distance, sirens could be heard; about four more cars, he suspected. As much fun as a good bar fight could be, it was obviously time to leave. Stumbling out the door, he kept yelling about Foster's and how it was the superior beer, out of earshot from anyone who would care to listen. He ignored the police cars and trudged away into the snow, a light dusting of white powder beginning to fall from the sky. It wouldn't be a long walk back to the inn, so it wouldn't take too long to make it somewhere warm.

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Re: Because someone has to live in Canada

Post by Kilquan Suffraxon on Sat Nov 23, 2013 10:24 pm

It wasn't long before the officer's leg was separated from its socket. Kilquan reveled in the gore that spurted from the leg and completely ignored the sirens as he began to beat the man mercilessly with his own leg until he was dead. It was a matter of time before he was on the other officer and turning him into a mindless ghoul by consuming his humors.

By now the other victim was beginning to twitch and shamble up from his early grave. Kilquan smirked as he dropped the new victim to the ground and he produced a volley of needles from his cloak and flung them at the wall full of liqueur and taps methodically before producing a matchbox and lighting one up. He then carefully approached the bar and dropped it behind carefully before booking it towards his hat and coat and making his way out of the bar. He wiped his mouth as he ran out frantically screaming, "Fire! Fire!" By this time the authorities should be arriving and falling into his web.

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Re: Because someone has to live in Canada

Post by John Smith on Wed Nov 27, 2013 4:06 pm

(OOC) Sorry it's taking so long to respond. Not sure what I want to do now and I'm not sure what your plans are.

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Re: Because someone has to live in Canada

Post by Kilquan Suffraxon on Thu Nov 28, 2013 12:58 pm

After outsmarting the cops and creating a gaggle of ghouls for his own amusement Kilquan amused himself with the fire and began to perform an eerie ritual with the entrails, gore, and bile of one of his victims who was partially still alive. He made an elder sign in the snow, a rather big one and surrounded it with wicked looking circles and horrid figured encompassing them. He knew not what this would cause in the end game, but he figured anything that gave praise to his god was good enough. (Possibility of woojie bull shit here for a mission for someone later?)

He heard the second wave of cops approaching and decided to take his leave in the snow cover. He opened his umbrella and started the rotor before giving his ghouls the order to stay here and exterminate the police that were to come. He then took off into the air with a soft batting of his heli-brella.

<--- Out to the Carnival

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Re: Because someone has to live in Canada

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