Dark Light Member
STATUS: Been 5 years since I posted a status! 2 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 7 mos ago
- Joined: 9 yrs ago
- Posts: 3361 (1.06 / day)
- VMs: 7
-
Username history
- Dark Light 9 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
Izurich,
Ti,
Bastian,
Lewascan2,
Otakuforreal
Status
Recent Statuses
2 yrs ago
Current
Been 5 years since I posted a status!
6
likes
7 yrs ago
It's a Chuck Palahniuk quotes kinda night.
7 yrs ago
... Something new
9 yrs ago
I'm so Fuckin' broken...
Bio
Most Recent Posts
Everything vanished before Clays eyes in a bright flash of burning light. He didn’t know where it was coming from but it was reflected and magnified by the itching smoke that was suddenly filling his lungs and clawing at his face.
With involuntary tears poring down his face, and a deafening sound thundering in his ears, he fought with all his will against his basic instincts and urges to run outside.
He stumbled over tables and chairs as he blindly staggered around the room coughing and gasping for air. He had lost nearly all of each of his senses except for one. His keen sense of smell.
While the gas did disorientate him, Clay could still make the direction of his friends and source the location of the canisters by smell.
Practically collapsing onto the nearest one, he fought with it for a short time before accepting that he couldn’t break or remove it from the ground. With it having somehow glued itself to the floor. Instead, without hesitation, Clay whipped off his jacket and bound the leather fabric tightly around the canister smothering it, dulling the light and sound.
He got lucky with the second one. It had secured itself to a rug. It was short work for Clay to roll it up and send it out a window.
There was still easily another 5 canisters in just this room alone. And with the gas slowly thinning, the soldiers outside were growing impatient and began sending scouting drones in from various windows.
With involuntary tears poring down his face, and a deafening sound thundering in his ears, he fought with all his will against his basic instincts and urges to run outside.
He stumbled over tables and chairs as he blindly staggered around the room coughing and gasping for air. He had lost nearly all of each of his senses except for one. His keen sense of smell.
While the gas did disorientate him, Clay could still make the direction of his friends and source the location of the canisters by smell.
Practically collapsing onto the nearest one, he fought with it for a short time before accepting that he couldn’t break or remove it from the ground. With it having somehow glued itself to the floor. Instead, without hesitation, Clay whipped off his jacket and bound the leather fabric tightly around the canister smothering it, dulling the light and sound.
He got lucky with the second one. It had secured itself to a rug. It was short work for Clay to roll it up and send it out a window.
There was still easily another 5 canisters in just this room alone. And with the gas slowly thinning, the soldiers outside were growing impatient and began sending scouting drones in from various windows.
Oops, slept too long!!! It’s all happening. Sorry guys.
Will post soon.
Will post soon.
The soldiers were not the only well trained monsters hiding in the dark that night. Once the bombs went off in the tavern, a shrill high pitched whistle signaled the second phase of the attack. The round up.
In the distance a large cage door fell heavily to the dirt. Exploding forth were at least a dozen large hound like beasts powering full speeed across the field towards the tavern with amazing haste.
The creatures were near silent besides the heavy beating of their pads against the dirt, not due to no effort of their own. Their lips snarled and mouths snapped, but their vocal cords were long since removed.
These monsters were built bred and trained for purpose. To bring down, cripple and maim anyone trying to leave the feild of smoke. (Aka the tavern)
In the distance a large cage door fell heavily to the dirt. Exploding forth were at least a dozen large hound like beasts powering full speeed across the field towards the tavern with amazing haste.
The creatures were near silent besides the heavy beating of their pads against the dirt, not due to no effort of their own. Their lips snarled and mouths snapped, but their vocal cords were long since removed.
These monsters were built bred and trained for purpose. To bring down, cripple and maim anyone trying to leave the feild of smoke. (Aka the tavern)
Amongst all the commotion Clay was momentarily distracted as a familiar face re-entered the tavern. Evelyn. He quickly snapped to when bullets began flying. After that things quickly started making sense and falling into place. A faint smile grew on his lips as the whirling of the droids gun began.
Unarmed he remained out of the gun fight. Quickly, calmly and with an authoritive voice he ushered and aided the few bystanding patrons through the kitchen and out the back door. One particularly elderly man, fragile and slow, Clay carried in his arms. A regular visitor Clay had come to know quite well and even grew fond of as they shared banter back and forth.
A sudden cursed cry of a woman’s voice rung out, followed by the deafening throttle of a mini gun tearing up the tavern. Clay was suddenly torn in which direction to go. Before he could make a decision the ground began to rumble.
———————
Meanwhile inside.
An eerie silence took a hold of the tavern. The four bleeding corpses lay lifeless and unthreatening.
Suddenly the sound of glass shattering breaks the silence. It’s instantly followed by the descending bouncing of a small metal canister scattering across the wooden floor. It comes to a quick abrupt end and with a short mechanical wirl the strange device anchors itself to the floor.
This occurs in heavy rapid succession in various places all throughout the tavern.
————————-
Clay appears from the kitchen behind the bar, blood splatter covering his chest and face, a hollow look in his eyes, he is about to speak but then... he suddenly vanishes from sight, consumed by the oncoming chaos.
The tavern suddenly erupted in a violent sensory onslaught of maddening chaos! A deafening loud whooping sound terrorises the ears and robs everyone of any communication. A high pitched buzz pieces the brain giving an instant interfering headache. Sight is stolen by a viscous blinding strobe light and the entire floor is quickly clouded in a thick itching, chocking tear gas.
Unarmed he remained out of the gun fight. Quickly, calmly and with an authoritive voice he ushered and aided the few bystanding patrons through the kitchen and out the back door. One particularly elderly man, fragile and slow, Clay carried in his arms. A regular visitor Clay had come to know quite well and even grew fond of as they shared banter back and forth.
A sudden cursed cry of a woman’s voice rung out, followed by the deafening throttle of a mini gun tearing up the tavern. Clay was suddenly torn in which direction to go. Before he could make a decision the ground began to rumble.
———————
Meanwhile inside.
An eerie silence took a hold of the tavern. The four bleeding corpses lay lifeless and unthreatening.
Suddenly the sound of glass shattering breaks the silence. It’s instantly followed by the descending bouncing of a small metal canister scattering across the wooden floor. It comes to a quick abrupt end and with a short mechanical wirl the strange device anchors itself to the floor.
This occurs in heavy rapid succession in various places all throughout the tavern.
————————-
Clay appears from the kitchen behind the bar, blood splatter covering his chest and face, a hollow look in his eyes, he is about to speak but then... he suddenly vanishes from sight, consumed by the oncoming chaos.
The tavern suddenly erupted in a violent sensory onslaught of maddening chaos! A deafening loud whooping sound terrorises the ears and robs everyone of any communication. A high pitched buzz pieces the brain giving an instant interfering headache. Sight is stolen by a viscous blinding strobe light and the entire floor is quickly clouded in a thick itching, chocking tear gas.
Evelyn had hardly been gone for long, Clayton still wore that stupid smug grin that she had left him with, feeling quite pleased and proud of himself.
It may have been because of this preoccupation that he didn’t hear the commotion going on outside.
The landing and unloading of a transport spacecraft. The marching of heavy boots surrounding the buildings perimeter. The arming, loading and locking of high tech weaponry. The small group of privately own soldiers huddling at the main doors.
It could have been his preoccupation with Evelyn, or it could have simply been their elite expert training, purposed tactical gear and years of field experience.
Since Dorian, the tavern owner’s, disappearance, the ‘magic’ of the old building had seemingly been fading. Repairs were required more often and to their dismay, staff found themselves required to clean more frequently.
Less kind hearted, adventure yearning, refuge seeking patrons magically happened upon the building, while those seeking it for less than savoury purposes, were actually managing to find it.
These were some of those people.
Clayton wasn’t the sort to put his faith in hope. He accepted and expected the worst at all times. That included losing the safety and security that the regular tavern dwellers had come to know. As such, he had began putting into place his own defensive measures.
One of such was a defective AI spider repair drone that had been weaponised. It was still a work in progress, since trade for parts, tools and knowledge had been difficult. But regardless of its progress, as four heavily armed and armoured men burst through the front door, shouting commands for everyone to fall to the floor, the green laser lights of their guns sweeping the room, Clay didn’t hesitate to hit the red button beneath the counter and release the robot.
It may have been because of this preoccupation that he didn’t hear the commotion going on outside.
The landing and unloading of a transport spacecraft. The marching of heavy boots surrounding the buildings perimeter. The arming, loading and locking of high tech weaponry. The small group of privately own soldiers huddling at the main doors.
It could have been his preoccupation with Evelyn, or it could have simply been their elite expert training, purposed tactical gear and years of field experience.
Since Dorian, the tavern owner’s, disappearance, the ‘magic’ of the old building had seemingly been fading. Repairs were required more often and to their dismay, staff found themselves required to clean more frequently.
Less kind hearted, adventure yearning, refuge seeking patrons magically happened upon the building, while those seeking it for less than savoury purposes, were actually managing to find it.
These were some of those people.
Clayton wasn’t the sort to put his faith in hope. He accepted and expected the worst at all times. That included losing the safety and security that the regular tavern dwellers had come to know. As such, he had began putting into place his own defensive measures.
One of such was a defective AI spider repair drone that had been weaponised. It was still a work in progress, since trade for parts, tools and knowledge had been difficult. But regardless of its progress, as four heavily armed and armoured men burst through the front door, shouting commands for everyone to fall to the floor, the green laser lights of their guns sweeping the room, Clay didn’t hesitate to hit the red button beneath the counter and release the robot.
@Blueflame Give me a while and I can introduce your character to the thread.
Fits perfectly actually.
Fits perfectly actually.
@BoyMom69035
Clay raises the near empty bottle and gives Evie a nod.
”Safe journeys, you know where to find me.” he says with a sly smile.
Putting the bottle down he quickly rummages behind the bar. Finding what he was after, he stands back up and throws a small packet her way. A simple bag of peanuts.
”Now that’s some food and you already had the drinks. Might be a terrible one but that’s still a date in my books. I promise the next one will be better.” Clay teasingly winks while giving her a wide uncontainable smile.
Clay raises the near empty bottle and gives Evie a nod.
”Safe journeys, you know where to find me.” he says with a sly smile.
Putting the bottle down he quickly rummages behind the bar. Finding what he was after, he stands back up and throws a small packet her way. A simple bag of peanuts.
”Now that’s some food and you already had the drinks. Might be a terrible one but that’s still a date in my books. I promise the next one will be better.” Clay teasingly winks while giving her a wide uncontainable smile.
© 2007-2024