[@Banana]

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[i][h1]"Whoever's out there, come and get me"[/h1]

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[h2]"whoever's out there, come and get me"[/h2]


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[h3]"whoever's out there, come and get me"[/h3]
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The echo dance down the expanse of shoddy rides and grimy, clown faces painted haphazardly on a couple of booths sitting on the sides. An audience that grinned mischievously at the knight on the stairs, their gaze the only answer to his call besides the whistling wind and the faintest sounds of clapping drum beats that hammered the tense silence between them. The claps came louder that repeated in the echo. Coming from all directions as they bounced off the jesters that peered at him in static smiles, each attempt to follow them leading to new figures and pictures. Finally the crowd of paranoia disbursed as a single lone man walk around the corner in an old oaken suit.


As he turned his left arm revealed a large, iron patched Tommy gun that hang by his side. A hat hid his eyes from shadow but the stare was palpable as slowly lifted the gun nose skywards in a ready stance. He remained still for a moment, letting the wind whisper at them before his head tipped up and the shadow dressed faced gave him a tiny nod. His shadow loomed down the hall of abandoned novelties, look nearly as large as him. Nearly. He was stranded there for a moment, the confusion of what he was looking at being obvious even behind the enigma of is uniform.


"[i]Sorry, bone boy....[/i]" He said it with a pause, his voice firm but lacking any inflection. A mechanical, deepness that was absent of any intent besides a slight hiccup of feeling as he went on.

"[i]Boss says you got to go...[/i]" his jaw chewing out the slight purse of his lip at the end. With that the Tommy Gun fell down into his right hand. A charge of bullets came out in loud, bangs. Screaming as they hit the air and collided with sputters of wood and metal being gutted around the target, chewing apart the scenery.






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