Cooper Harley was not a particularly graceful man. Especially not when he was surprised, which due to his fondness for mood-altering drugs, was often. The smallest thing surprised him- the ring of his phone, the sound of his neglected house settling, the sunrise in the morning. And then he always flapped about and knocked something to the floor, the crashing sound of which inevitably surprised him, causing him to knock something else over, and so on ad infinitum until he had destroyed everything he owned. Similat to using paint to make a "Wet Paint" sign, then making a "Wet Paint" sign for the original sign, then a sign for the second sign, and so on. Not that any of these things had ever occurred, or were likely to at any point. But in the deep poetry written upon the fabric of the universe, Cooper sometimes felt there was a stanza somewhere describing him as the unluckiest man who ever lived.
Case in point, as Cooper scraped together what little courage he had in an effort to stare down Reed, Lillith abruptly crashed into his back, sending him sprawling. He was tallish, and had a good long ways to go when he fell. With his hair flopping into his face, he couldn't quite see where he was falling to. A sensible person might have stuck their hands out in front of them, but Cooper instead waved his off to the side, apparently hoping for some sort of magic to happen.
Some sort of magic happening was not an event that was likely to occur today, and it did not. Cooper, blinding and flailing, instead smashed his forehead into the broken chair. His forehead tore open and immediately starting bleeding, and consciousness began to slip away from the unlucky man. Weakly, he tried to get up, but felt overwhelmed by tiredness. As he quietly drifted off, he wondered about maybe going to a doctor. Did he have insurance? He couldn't remember. Probably not.
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Apologies for my absence, guys, I've been sick the last few days. Nothing serious, just had to get some bedrest.
In
The League - First Blood (Persistent World Superhero Sci Fi and Fantasy, Always Open)
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12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
QuietThinker said
Alright, question time. These tiny cameras that are on Sixgun: are they at all visible in the slightest?
I think Mr. D said something like a speck of dust. Wire's excellent senses might be up to the task.
Well, this talk went poorly.
In
The League - First Blood (Persistent World Superhero Sci Fi and Fantasy, Always Open)
→
12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
SIXGUN
"Well, I reckon you might try the kitchen, for starters," Fletcher Ross said as he put on his Panama hat and white suit jacket. "These folks can afford to have a second house just fer guests, I do imagine they might have shelled out for some cornflakes." He smiled at the helmeted figure, even as his mind was racing yet again. Music had international connections, he knew that. The man had discussed bringing in more soldiers, some of them metahuman. By the voice, this fellow was a Limey, and by his costume he wasn't just some wannabe Kray twin- this guy was likely serious. That was worrying- barely a few hours had passed. Was the muscle just waiting here in Chicago waiting for the go-ahead?
More importantly, was the Panamanian already here?
He forced the thought out of his head, focused on his mission. He'd burn that bridge when the time came. "Let's find some food, pal," he said with a smile, giving Wire a friendly pat on the shoulder. Hopefully he wouldn't notice the tiny camera and mic Sixgun had placed on his jacket- the better to learn more about him.
SONJA
"She might make it? Good," Sonja said, nodding sleepily. Her energy reserves were pretty much spent, she would need a few hours of sleep and some food before she could get back in the mix. If she could- she doubted having MAJOR SUPER-CRIMINALS ESCAPE, DOZENS KILLED on the front page of the Post-Dispatch was going to solve her magical problems. She began to drift off to sleep. She thought about Sarin, she thought about Bluegrass, she thought about Music. And of course her teammates.
"Well, I reckon you might try the kitchen, for starters," Fletcher Ross said as he put on his Panama hat and white suit jacket. "These folks can afford to have a second house just fer guests, I do imagine they might have shelled out for some cornflakes." He smiled at the helmeted figure, even as his mind was racing yet again. Music had international connections, he knew that. The man had discussed bringing in more soldiers, some of them metahuman. By the voice, this fellow was a Limey, and by his costume he wasn't just some wannabe Kray twin- this guy was likely serious. That was worrying- barely a few hours had passed. Was the muscle just waiting here in Chicago waiting for the go-ahead?
More importantly, was the Panamanian already here?
He forced the thought out of his head, focused on his mission. He'd burn that bridge when the time came. "Let's find some food, pal," he said with a smile, giving Wire a friendly pat on the shoulder. Hopefully he wouldn't notice the tiny camera and mic Sixgun had placed on his jacket- the better to learn more about him.
SONJA
"She might make it? Good," Sonja said, nodding sleepily. Her energy reserves were pretty much spent, she would need a few hours of sleep and some food before she could get back in the mix. If she could- she doubted having MAJOR SUPER-CRIMINALS ESCAPE, DOZENS KILLED on the front page of the Post-Dispatch was going to solve her magical problems. She began to drift off to sleep. She thought about Sarin, she thought about Bluegrass, she thought about Music. And of course her teammates.
He managed to find the tiny shred of nobility in him.
And there it is. Take as you will.
Cooper Harley, as you may have guessed, was not a particularly intelligent or thoughtful man. However, there were certain things he felt to be fundamental truths of the universe, certain things he felt were unimpeachable under even the worst of circumstances, the glue that held all that we know together. You die if you stop breathing, you bleed if you cut yourself, and you don't get held hostage if you're the only one in the room in possession of a firearm. Cooper had a feeling that some basic cosmic law was being broken here. Along with his chair. Somehow he doubted Reed would pay the homeowner for that chair. Didn't he know the Girl Scouts rule? Leave everything the way you found it? Guess not.
"Man, what the fuck! I was sitting there!" Cooper complained. His eyes widened as he heard Lillith's words. The implication. The implication made sense. A violent man confronted them for no real reason, threatened both of them for whatever scraps of information they had gathered. Of course. Had to clean house, eliminate witnesses.
"So it was you, huh?" Cooper said slowly as he pulled himself off the floor. "Pretty obvious, really. I have a hard time believing you don't care about any of this. Seems more like you're trying to cover your tracks." He realized, without any planning, that he had positioned himself between Lillith and Reed. "Besides, who'd miss a couple of drug dealers, right? You take care of them, you scratch that little itch again, you get a pat on the head from Babylon. Then maybe in a month or two, or the next full moon, you go and kill another girl, blame someone else for it. And the whole fucking cycle starts over again." Cooper sneered through his bad teeth. "You know, I'm a coward, you said it yourself. I won't deny it. But at least I have the courage to do my dirt out in the open. I don't sneak the fuck around and pretend to be a hero, cause I'm not. I'm a criminal."
He forced himself to meet the man's eyes, despite his pounding heart and churning stomach. He very much doubted he could take Reed, even with the pistol. But if he really was a murderer, then he had to try. For Lillith's sake.
Wait, what?
That last part had somehow crept into his internal monologue, an unscripted ad-lib. Cooper had always looked at himself as pragmatically self-interested, always looking out for number one. Because that was what the bad guy did, right? Burned all his bridges.
Did he have any friends? He couldn't remember. Probably not.
But he could at least not fuck up this one thing.
"Lillith, get out of here," he said as calmly as he could. He was terrified of Reed. Cooper legitimately believed the man had killed Mari and meant to kill them. He wanted to run. He wanted to run very badly. But as long as he stood between Lillith and Reed, he would remain rooted in place like an oak and do whatever he could to keep Reed away from her. Cooper had never been smart, why start now?
"Man, what the fuck! I was sitting there!" Cooper complained. His eyes widened as he heard Lillith's words. The implication. The implication made sense. A violent man confronted them for no real reason, threatened both of them for whatever scraps of information they had gathered. Of course. Had to clean house, eliminate witnesses.
"So it was you, huh?" Cooper said slowly as he pulled himself off the floor. "Pretty obvious, really. I have a hard time believing you don't care about any of this. Seems more like you're trying to cover your tracks." He realized, without any planning, that he had positioned himself between Lillith and Reed. "Besides, who'd miss a couple of drug dealers, right? You take care of them, you scratch that little itch again, you get a pat on the head from Babylon. Then maybe in a month or two, or the next full moon, you go and kill another girl, blame someone else for it. And the whole fucking cycle starts over again." Cooper sneered through his bad teeth. "You know, I'm a coward, you said it yourself. I won't deny it. But at least I have the courage to do my dirt out in the open. I don't sneak the fuck around and pretend to be a hero, cause I'm not. I'm a criminal."
He forced himself to meet the man's eyes, despite his pounding heart and churning stomach. He very much doubted he could take Reed, even with the pistol. But if he really was a murderer, then he had to try. For Lillith's sake.
Wait, what?
That last part had somehow crept into his internal monologue, an unscripted ad-lib. Cooper had always looked at himself as pragmatically self-interested, always looking out for number one. Because that was what the bad guy did, right? Burned all his bridges.
Did he have any friends? He couldn't remember. Probably not.
But he could at least not fuck up this one thing.
"Lillith, get out of here," he said as calmly as he could. He was terrified of Reed. Cooper legitimately believed the man had killed Mari and meant to kill them. He wanted to run. He wanted to run very badly. But as long as he stood between Lillith and Reed, he would remain rooted in place like an oak and do whatever he could to keep Reed away from her. Cooper had never been smart, why start now?
"Yeah, I'll second that one, honey," Keith agreed, sighing as he sat down on an exposed rock next to Olivia. Unconsciously he brushed at his hair with his fingers, trying to get it to look perfect. Always paid to make a good first impression. "Name's Keith. Pleased as I am to meet y'all, it might behoove us to put some sort of plan together. I got a couple points I'd like to raise."
"One, that crash won't go unnoticed. Some great big lovely men are likely to come looking around, probably with dogs and rifles. They probably aren't going to be too happy with us."
"Two, where the hell are we?" he said with an expansive gesture that took in the lakes, the trees, the blue mountains just visible in the distance. "Is this Colorado or something? What are we gonna do about food and shelter? Where's the nearest Qdoba?" Keith shrugged. "These are things we need to think about. I don't know if we're just going to try and walk to civilization, but we need to make some sort of plan. I've said my piece, I'm sticking with you guys for the time being."
Keith sighed as he looked over the others, unsure if he could trust them at all but unwilling to face this situation alone. He suddenly realized, very abruptly, that his survival may depend on these people. A sobering thought, for sure. An unwelcome one, as well.
"One, that crash won't go unnoticed. Some great big lovely men are likely to come looking around, probably with dogs and rifles. They probably aren't going to be too happy with us."
"Two, where the hell are we?" he said with an expansive gesture that took in the lakes, the trees, the blue mountains just visible in the distance. "Is this Colorado or something? What are we gonna do about food and shelter? Where's the nearest Qdoba?" Keith shrugged. "These are things we need to think about. I don't know if we're just going to try and walk to civilization, but we need to make some sort of plan. I've said my piece, I'm sticking with you guys for the time being."
Keith sighed as he looked over the others, unsure if he could trust them at all but unwilling to face this situation alone. He suddenly realized, very abruptly, that his survival may depend on these people. A sobering thought, for sure. An unwelcome one, as well.
Can't a fella get some sleep without everyone wanting a post? I'll have one up shortly.
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