DARK DRAMA! (Ongoing RP)
Feb 2, 2011 16:36:56 GMT -5
Post by October Raven on Feb 2, 2011 16:36:56 GMT -5
DARK DRAMA!: The Stories of Rex "Ace" McMurphy
EPISODE ZERO: When It Rains, It Gets Wet
(Part 1)
Here I am, in New York, outside the Peter Venkman Memorial Arena. Sipping a cup of coffee that tastes like it was brewed three weeks ago and heated with a hot plate.
Damn you McDonalds.
It's raining tonight, and the matches for a wrestling show called "WTF is Ubble" have just ended. People are leaving the arena, going back to to their workaday lives, sporting merchandise probably made by a Chinese baby.
Somewhere, a dog barks. A gunshot is heard, miles away from where I am. Or maybe it was someone's Chrysler backfiring on them.
...Yeah, probably a Chrysler.
The show is over, and yet I am going towards the arena, not away from it. There is an odor in the air, overtaking my stale coffee and it's third-rate creamer.
I smell crime.
I hate the smell of crime. It smells like wet gym socks that soaked in mayonnaise and left to dry in the sun. It's the kind of smell that can't be removed by a good Febreezing either.
No, this needs something more industrial.
Quietly going past the crowd, I find myself in a parking lot. It's half empty and I'm the only one there. Don't know how long I'll have, so I need to make this quick.
I go to the door, feeling around a small crack in the pavement.
Sure enough, the bug I put there is gone.
But that was a decoy. I go to the trash can and lift it up, looking at the bottom.
And the decoy the first decoy was hiding is gone too.
Finally I go to one of the cars there, one that smells like someone who doesn't shower sleeps in it. I look underneath the bumper... and find nothing.
These guys are good.
I hear someone coming. No time to plant any more bugs, they'll likely be found anyway. I make a break for it, slipping into the crowd unnoticed.
But I still smell the crime.
EPISODE ZERO: When It Rains, It Gets Wet
(Part 1)
Here I am, in New York, outside the Peter Venkman Memorial Arena. Sipping a cup of coffee that tastes like it was brewed three weeks ago and heated with a hot plate.
Damn you McDonalds.
It's raining tonight, and the matches for a wrestling show called "WTF is Ubble" have just ended. People are leaving the arena, going back to to their workaday lives, sporting merchandise probably made by a Chinese baby.
Somewhere, a dog barks. A gunshot is heard, miles away from where I am. Or maybe it was someone's Chrysler backfiring on them.
...Yeah, probably a Chrysler.
The show is over, and yet I am going towards the arena, not away from it. There is an odor in the air, overtaking my stale coffee and it's third-rate creamer.
I smell crime.
I hate the smell of crime. It smells like wet gym socks that soaked in mayonnaise and left to dry in the sun. It's the kind of smell that can't be removed by a good Febreezing either.
No, this needs something more industrial.
Quietly going past the crowd, I find myself in a parking lot. It's half empty and I'm the only one there. Don't know how long I'll have, so I need to make this quick.
I go to the door, feeling around a small crack in the pavement.
Sure enough, the bug I put there is gone.
But that was a decoy. I go to the trash can and lift it up, looking at the bottom.
And the decoy the first decoy was hiding is gone too.
Finally I go to one of the cars there, one that smells like someone who doesn't shower sleeps in it. I look underneath the bumper... and find nothing.
These guys are good.
I hear someone coming. No time to plant any more bugs, they'll likely be found anyway. I make a break for it, slipping into the crowd unnoticed.
But I still smell the crime.