Doc Doctor

The City of Masks (Watchmen-inspired RP)

@Xandrya

Donny reached into his jacket, and there was a slight tearing sound as he ripped the stitched in key out of the fabric. He tossed it to Lily, and then went up the stairs that led to his bedroom, pausing halfway up.

"Ah can trust yuh wahn't kill meh, but I can't trust yuh wahn't leave an' try tuh save Mistah Red Clah. While Ah'm sleepin', yuh free tah do that."

Donny paused for a few seconds, looking up thoughtfully as if contemplating a nice sunset.

"Not somethahn' Ah'd do, iffah were yuh. Help yah'self tuh anythin' in thah fridge. Make yah'self at home."

He continued on up, and a door could be heard closing. Nothing after that. His room, and probably all of the other rooms in fact, were likely soundproofed and reinforced to stop anything short of a tank cannon.

The City of Masks (Watchmen-inspired RP)

@Xandrya

Yes, Donny's pulse couldn't be found. But then again, he did study yoga...

http://skepticmeditations.com/2015/05/17/can-yogis-stop-their-heart/

He couldn't outright stop his own heart, but he could slow it to such an extend that only an electroencephalograph could determine whether or not he lived. A damn good actor indeed. Whilst Lily was dialing the 911, suddenly the stereo system kicked on, the blasting noise making it impossible to speak into the phone. It was Huey Lewis's "Hip to be Square". When she turned back to Donny, he'd be sitting up and holding the remote in his hand, head nodding to the catchy beat as he lazily grinned at her.


(Something to listen to whilst reading the rest of the post)

High blood pressure? Stress? No, not this one. He truly was as calm as he seemed, and many times more calculating. He had played possum better than most opossums do. To make the froth convincing, he had even bitten his tongue to draw blood. He slowly and deliberately rose to his feet with a single easy motion. The only other thing that had surprised him was how Lily hadn't even bothered to take away his gun when she had the chance. Not that she'd have been able to shoot him in time if she had, as he'd turned the safety on before his hands left his pockets during the act.

He turned the music down to speak.

"Yuh had thah chance tah kill muh, but yuh skiffed it. Howevuh, luck an' circumstance means nuthahn' in life or death. What mattahs is who's on thah wrong end of thah gun. Which is yuh, missus..."

"But Ah see yuh actions don't lie. Yuh're a bodah I can trust. Yuh don't wannah take on Ol' Donneh, an' yuh wanna see Red Clah die, thah's right?"

It seems that she had actually managed to earn Donny's trust, to some degree, and now he was repaying her by offering her a chance to accompany him, freely and as a partner, to kill Red Claw.

The City of Masks (Watchmen-inspired RP)

@Xandrya

When Donny was seized, something unexpected happened. The front of his pants went dark as piss spilled down his legs. He shuddered and then went stiff, his eyes wide like silver dollars and froth flowing out from between his lips. His hands came out of his pockets, empty, and began feebly clawing at his chest.

If allowed to, he'd fall over like a log, one leg juddering. It made sense. The man spent his entire life preparing for everything, painstakingly contemplating every outcome to avoid his own death and kill others. How high was his blood pressure? What condition could such a man's heart be in, who had to live in such a way? No wonder he owned those inner peace DVDs and a bong pipe. He probably had a ton of medication in his bathroom cabinets. Something he hadn't expected at all had occured, and the result was humiliating. Some hardened killer, brought to such a poor state by a little peek-a-boo.

The froth turned red, his chest no longer heaving as breathing ceased, and his green eyes went unfocused and glassy. The sights they saw now, none could guess. The irony. The surprise.

Arena Chat Thread

I'm battle-starved. Nothing but skin and bones. And a massive flacid dong, but also skin and bones.

The City of Masks (Watchmen-inspired RP)

@Xandrya

As if he had caught a whiff of her thoughts, Donny addressed the issue of her mortality in this situation.

"Yuh know bah knaow that I don't need yuh. Red Clah thinks Ah have yuh alahv, an' that's what mattahs. Ah could kill yuh an' he'd be none thah wisah. Plus Ah'd sleep easiah with yuh dead, an' not in muh home. Only reason yuh breathin' because yuh fun tah have 'round, an' Ah can't letchah go till Red Clah's dead."

"Sah don't give muh a reason tah staht dislikin' yuh, missus. If yuh buried in severahl pieces innuh unmarked grave innuh woods, who'll miss yuh? How long'll yuh be missed? Yuh'll be rottin' bug food, an' that'll be thuh storah of yuh life. Nothin' else'll be remembered, if at awll. Yuh'll be sittin' in thuh showuh and wettin' yuhself."

Without his face changing in the slightest, Donny dragged the hostage into his clean, roomy bathroom and propped her beneath the showerhead without letting her legs loose. He'd turn on the water to a comfortable temperature before pacing to the door, pausing only to tell her to give a yell when she was done.

So this was how a true psychopath acted. Mercy was a whim, and only a thin line separated the realms of life and death. He didn't see people as people, but as objects to be used for gain and amusement.

The City of Masks (Watchmen-inspired RP)

@Xandrya

A bad idea. Donny stood up with a placid, creepy smile.



He walked out of sight and into a another room. A half minute later he returned, carrying...

A genuine M249 light machine gun.

"M'kah, missus. But yuh got two chausses (choices). Yuh can drink thuh restah the wine from thuh bottle, an' use thuh toilet with Ol' Donneh watchin' an' pointin' this atchyuh..."

"Or, Ah stick yuh chair in the showah an' yuh mess yuhsahlf theyah, so that carpet don't get ruin'd."

To outwit the hitman, she'd have to think like him. Be willing to do literally anything to win, no matter how dirty or cruel.

The City of Masks (Watchmen-inspired RP)

@Xandrya

Donny lived in many places. Mostly various small homes and apartments, so that his location couldn't be pinpointed. Whenever he traveled in his van, he did so by night and at high speed, avoiding police routes. There was no primary base of operations, only safehouses stocked with everything he needed to carry out his job. The place he took Lily to was a high rise apartment. The desk clerk ducked below the counter and began whistling loudly as Donny dragged the hostage chair through the lobby and to the elevator. Chances are everyone that worked here was on Donny's payroll, and the mere absurd notion of alerting the authorities probably only entered their thoughts during early morning bad dreams.

Donny's taste in music was bad. His taste in décor was good.



He must have been fond of crimson. Figures. There was also a bong, yoga DVDs, and some accented candles on a table. No wonder the man could be so damn mellow and ruthless at the same time. He was one of those "inner peace" freaks, who disconnected from their negative emotions as easily as they disconnected their phone from a charger. He'd prop Lily in front of a nice big television and tune it to the news as he spoke.

"Don't yuh worrah, missus. Ah ain' that bad, ayuh. Ah'm not killin' nobodah if Mistah Red Clah is a no show. Jus' felt like a lil' extrah motivation'd help him smart up an' come fah sure. Heeyuh, have some vittles missus."

By now Lily had probably guessed that to Donny, words were just another tool to abuse. There was absolutely no way to know when he was telling the truth or lying. He only said what was most useful under the given circumstances. Unless, that's just what he wanted her to think. Or was it? Ugh, what a bastard. On the bright side, there was some real fancy food and drink he was offering.
He sat down on a couch opposite Lily and opened up a jar of beluga caviar, the tin lid popping with freshness. He likewise opened up a fresh bag of rye bread squares, a container of organic cream cheese, and a bottle of thirty year old white wine. He'd try to feed Lily, all the while droning on in his unusual dialect about the most boring shit possible. International sports, minivan paneling, the best kinds of detergents...

The City of Masks (Watchmen-inspired RP)

@Xandrya
@BCTheEntity

Donny cast a lazy glance over his shoulder, waving a hand dismissively.

"Yuh'll be fine. Everahthings undah control. We jus' needah work out yuh trust issues. Evah thought of seein' a therahpust missus?"

Donny needed to make several stops. The first was an electronics store, where he purchased a camcorder. Then he hit a Walmart for some common items. On the way to the local news station, he held the camcorder over his shoulder and videotaped Lily.

"Abaowt time fah thuh evenin' news. Don't yuh cuss naow, yuh gonnah be seen nationwide. Ah, heeyuh we ah. Scuse me..."

He effortlessly killed the studio guards, in some inexplicable way if seen from a distance. One moment he walked up to the pair of men, arms spread as if he remembered them as old friends. But then Donny suddenly crouched low, and the men before him literally fell to pieces. Arms and legs and shoulders and heads tumbled to the ground. Not a noise could be heard. He used their keys to access the building. The weekly weather report was on. What occurred next was obvious. Lily went on the news for all to see, including Red Claw. It would be all over. Donny's message? Go to the place where they first saw each other in exactly twenty-four hours, and come alone or the girl dies a death so terrible that people will remember it for hundreds of years. No doubt Donny would know if Red Claw is alone or not. At the proper time, a payphone will ring at the nearby curb. Answer it or the girl dies and a random school will be shot to pieces, Columbine all over again. No, worse. Sandy Hook times ten.

After Donny finished making sure his message got through, he left the studio leaving a dozen more guards stone dead. By the time the cops arrived, Donny had left in his van. Nobody had witnessed him enter it. They cordoned off roads for miles around, but somehow were unable to find the killer. As if he knew what they were doing...

Arena Chat Thread

@ImportantNobody

You've our support.

The City of Masks (Watchmen-inspired RP)

@Xandrya

"Call me Fuhst-Duhgree Donneh."

The next thing Lily knew would probably be a white flash of pain, and then darkness. When she turned around, Donny pulled out his high powered stun gun and attempted to jam it into the small of her back. It made police tasers look like joy buzzers. The brief shock could be compared to sticking a fork into an electrical socket. She'd live, but would be rendered absolutely senseless. Only for roughly thirty seconds though. Donny would aim to shock her twice more before he'd have finished bundling her into the back of the van and strapping her into a wooden kitchen chair with nylon cording, after patting her down for equipment of course.

If this all came to pass, Lily would wake up with sore muscles and a headache in the back of the van as it cruised through the night. The vehicle stank of smoke and blood. In fact, there appeared to be rusty dried blood staining much of the big, nearly empty back. The rear seats had been removed to make room for whatever it is that freaks like Donny needed room for. Taking hostages, torturing for information, performing executions...

Cigarette stubs and bullet casings littered the floor and rolled haphazardly about as the psychopath steered sharply from side to side, weaving through traffic. By far the strangest thing though was the front seat radio, to which Donny was listening. It was simultaneously tuned to the chatter of police in conversation over their walkies, and to some ridiculously unfitting Bobby Brown song that had been used in Ghostbusters. There was no accounting for taste with maniacs these days.



At least it was more interesting than going to the dentist.