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#Post#: 381038--------------------------------------------------
The Hunted Merc
By: Evil Kitty Date: December 28, 2014, 1:04 pm
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Here he was again; surrounded by troops with no hope of escape.
Well, so they said, anyway. Such words meant nothing to Roy,
though. He was created for situations like this. Created by the
military. For the military. To fight military. He never saw the
logic in it, but, on the other hand, he wasn't made to think. He
was a killer. A survivor. With that in mind the soldiers
surrounding him seemed very cautious; rifles drawn and never
taking their eyes away from their sights. "Roy Blayze. For
crimes against humanity you will be taken in to serve the
penalty of living the rest of your unnatural life behind bars.
Surrender now or die."
Bars, huh? He couldn't help but to feel a bit insulted in all
honesty. They thought bars would hold him? Please. He has been
shot, stabbed, nearly blown up, delimbed, and still managed to
fight his way to freedom. Yet, they still think any form of
prison would hold him? How dare they? They needed to be taught a
lesson. With that thought in mind he looked around at the circle
surrounding him; a smirk crossing over his lips as he spoke in a
calm, amused, tone. "Oh? Well, I sure hope you at least have
explosive rounds in those rifles. Otherwise this isn't going to
end very well at all. For yous, anyway."
With that he reached behind him to the belt of his pants;
pulling out two big, heavy, pistals. Though, as he pulled the
pistols out a barrage of bullets flew at him; piercing his skin
endlessly. His body jerked back and forth with every impact of
the bullets, though, as he warned them; it was not explosive
rounds. They didn't want him dead and that was their mistake.
Soon their rifles clicked with a need to reload; their eyes wide
as Roy stood there seemingly limp. Blood pouring from every
bullet wound as his head remained bowed; bangs covering his
face. An eerie laugh escaping his lips as his pistols remained
pointed at the troopers. "Not quite good enough."
Immediately after his words he slammed down on the trigger. Only
one bullet flying from each pistol as he didn't even watch where
they were headed. As soon as they bullet struck a soldiers armor
it exploded on impact; taking at least five soldiers out per
bullet. Shooting again and again all around him as he picked
them off so easily. Like pigs to the slaughter. In a matter of
seconds he was surrounded by a ring of blood and bodies. Some
still barely alive as Roy walked over to one of the survivors;
his body missing an arm and a leg; covered in blood and choking
on it. As he struggled for air Roy knelt down and looked at the
man; a smirk on his lips. "Such a dumbass. You were born with
freedom yet you sold your soul to the highest bidder. Yet I was
created with no freedom and I made my own road. The world
doesn't need idiots like you." He pressed the pistol against the
man's forehead as he pressed on the trigger; a simple click
echoing on the outskirts of the city as his gun was out of ammo.
Letting out a laugh as he stood back up and started making his
way to the city; his dog tags gingling with each step. "Guess
you'll be bleeding out. Seems like a fitting death for someone
like you." As he walked his wounds slowly began to heal; the
blood no longer seeping from the wounds.
#Post#: 381081--------------------------------------------------
Re: The Hunted Merc
By: Izzy Archer Date: December 28, 2014, 2:22 pm
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“You’re such a bitch Izzy, who the hell would want to be with
you anyway?” a gruff scream sounded through the busy department
hallway, that didn’t last long. At the sound of Izzy’s name,
everyone had grabbed the nearest door handle and slid into the
offices, only leaving her and the guy who’s lip she’d busted
open in what he thought was a loving embrace...until she bit.
She was at it again. “Oh, ouch…”, Izzy span on her heels,
leaning forward slightly to rest her palms on the stonewash
ripped jeans that hugged her legs loosely, lazily tucked into a
pair of lace up military boots. “My parents loved me and called
me worse Joey, keep trying” her head tilted slightly, a sharp
grin growing from the corner of her lips for a brief second
before she straightened and turned around again, a light squeak
coming from the leather boots with every touch upon the cheap
carpet beneath her. “Fuck you!” a sweet giggle escaped her as
she raised one hand above her head, giving him the finger until
she disappeared into the stairwell.
Oh how fun it was, Izzy definitely enjoyed using her looks to
get ahead, especially when the guys would proclaim their feeling
for her, and every single time she felt nothing in return. It
was impossible. She’d never loved anyone and probably never
would. The only thing that mattered was being on top, in every
meaning of the word, and it was gonna happen, and working in the
FBI wasn’t going to stop her. It was only a front in the first
place. None of them knew about her outside of the office, they
had nothing on her…not even the right prints or bloodwork. She
was too clever for that shit, none of them would ever know her
business. She practically danced down the 6 flights of stairs to
the ground floor, her hips rocking gently as she moved towards
the exit, winking at the receptionist on the way out as she
always did.
“Any available officers proceed to the outskirts. Emergency
situation in progress, shots fired, We believe its Roy Bl-“ Izzy
hit the mute button on her radio, dropping it into the backpack
when she retrieved it from the helmet compartment under the seat
of her Harley. “Yeah yeah yeah, like it’d be him” she huffed,
pulling on the skeleton airbrushed helmet and throwing her leg
over the seat and turning on the ignition, the bike letting out
a soft hum while she messed with the straps on her gloves.
“IZZY!” her blue pools fell on the entrance as Joey burst
through the door, spots of blood dried on his collar from her
bit of fun, he ran down the stairs in an attempt to catch up,
man his running sucked. “Love ya babe, You might wanna get that
lip checked out…looks a little sore” she shouted before pulling
down the visor and sped away, the cool air sent a chill up her
spine, where was her destination tonight? A drink maybe?
It only took minutes before she was near the outskirts,
apparently were the phenomenon that was Roy Blaze had finally
been spotted. Yeah right. Izzy had only seen him once, and that
was a blurry picture from CCTV sent across from the other side
of the state. Releasing the brake, Izzy lifted the visor on her
helmet, easily ignoring the limits from the speed she was
travelling, moving her hand back and tapping the brake when her
eyes fell on a figure walking up the street, it was a little
late to wander. She shrugged, it wasn’t her problem until
tomorrow, and even then she never actually cared, she just
pretended so the pay cheques kept coming in. She took the sharp
corner with ease, rolling into the bar parking lot and jumping
off the bike when it comfortably rested on its stand. Izzy
hooked her hand through the helmet and sauntered over to the
bar, her gaze falling on the stranger again, “hmmm” she
shrugged, he looked familiar, but it was time for a beer, not a
family reunion.
#Post#: 383095--------------------------------------------------
Re: The Hunted Merc
By: Evil Kitty Date: January 15, 2015, 4:27 pm
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Roy tucked both of his guns back into the belt of his pants; his
jacket flowing over the heavy, silver, pistols. Those were just
the first troops that would try for his head. They will get more
aggressive the more damage Roy were to do. He had already messed
up by killing those men back there, but, they had it coming. You
don't use a gun unless you intend to kill. Otherwise you are as
good as dead. Either way he had to lay low for a minute. Even if
it was just a minute.
Entering the city he immediately stops in front of a bar; his
red eyes looking down to admire a motorcycle he had seen pull
in. A smirk crossing over his lips as he spoke out in a cocky
tone. "Another time, Roy. Another time." He chuckled at the
thought as he pushed the door to the bar open and stormed in
like an ox. His body covered in blood and holes in his clothes.
Though, he had no wounds to speak of. He panted and chuckled
once more; looking to the bartender. "Hey, bar keep. Gimme a
couple shots of jack: been a long day."
The bartender was quick to refuse as he called out: "Get out of
my bar! I'll call the police!" With that Roy's humorous eyes
turned to a deep glare. Quickly pulling his jacket to the side
to show the gun in the belt of his pants. Speaking in a calm
tone. "Is this place ensured? Cuz if not it would be best if you
just let me have a couple drinks for a little bit." The
bartender scoffed at the notion. Though Roy cut it. "I will even
pay for the drinks." The bartender let out a final pitious sigh.
"Fine. Sit down." He slowly washed and prepared a row of four
shots for Roy.
Roy sat down a seat or two from the woman he had saw pull in;
she screamed hard ass. Them kind of girls that makes a man blood
boil before he is sucked dry. She was the main event; we were
all just lucky to be here. A bad girl. He laughed quietly as he
looked over to the woman from his bar stool. "You sure are a
trusting one. That's a nice bike to leave in front of a bar on
the outskirts of town.." He then turned away from it as he took
his first shot. "... Sure hope nothing happens to it." Quikly
drowned out by his second shot.
#Post#: 383121--------------------------------------------------
Re: The Hunted Merc
By: Izzy Archer Date: January 15, 2015, 5:38 pm
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Izzy hooked her arm through the visor of her helmet as she
sauntered through the parking lot towards her favourite bar,
which just so happened to be the home of her favourite
hobby…booze. And she needed a lot of it. “Bring on the whiskey”
she muttered, eyes glancing over her shoulder for a second to
look at her bike once more before she’d disappear inside. She
knew that it wasn’t going anywhere, everybody knew exactly who
the owner was, especially in this place and none of them would
forget the last time someone tried to steal it…ever.
Stepping inside and letting the helmet slide down her forearm
and rest between her fingers, she shot a slight nod towards the
bartender, rolling her eyes when the chit chat seemed to die
down, strangely just as she’d walked in. What a coincidence.
“You guys know I don’t give a fuck about your lives…” she
sighed, sliding the stool away from the bar with her heel and
placing the helmet down gently, her blue pools fell on possibly
the biggest dick of a regular she’d met here. Donny…oh Donny,
why’d he have to be there? “Sit down Donald...I’ve had my fill
of arguments and sex today, don’t make me draw tears like I did
when you tried wiring my bike”. Damn she felt smug, the sharp
grin plastered across her façade made that clear, a harsh growl
escaped the parting in Donny’s lips before he returned to his
little group, all ready to piss their pants with laughter by the
sounds of it.
“You know what I like Jack…you share the name” she winked at the
bodybuilder-like figure who’d already prepared the drink while
she was having her fun with Donny, like she did every god damn
time. “Good man” she wrapped her hand around the glass before
her ass was on the stool, raising it slightly to her server
before knocking it back, sliding the glass across the wooden
surface for a refill. Her eyes shot to the doorway, ears ringing
at the sound of a voice, it was familiar, she’d heard it on a
tape…the CCTV she’d been mailed a month back. “Well…fuck” she
whispered, letting out a long sigh while Jack argued with the
man, eventually pouring a couple shots of her booze and pushing
them a couple feet to her right. Why’d he have to sit there?
Dammit Roy.
She tipped her glass to Jack once again, taking a sip of the
dark liquid that soothed her so much, she almost felt the urge
to lick her lips in delight at the taste. “…nice bike…” he had
her attention. Izzy span on her stool, tilting her head to look
the man she’d been told about for so long, informed about his
multiple murders only 30 minutes previous, maybe it was just
her. He didn’t look like a typical killer. An ass, he’d made
that clear already, but there was something. Nah, she didn’t
care, why was she thinking it over? “Trust me Roy…” she paused,
letting her announcement of his name sink in for a second,
eyebrow arching as her sarcasm began to surface more. “I
wouldn’t try, speak to the 6 foot tatted guy over in the far
corner surrounded by the bearded folk, you’ll change your mind”
she was smiling again, spinning back to face the bartender,
“Anyway…if you really did have the guts to try” she threw back
the rest of her drink and rose to her feet, sliding closer to
him and leaning forward. “Your balls will be in your throat
faster than you can say ‘check please’…nice guns by the way, I’m
Izzy” she tapped the edge of the bar, letting out a soft giggle
before picking up her helmet and leaving. Two drinks was enough.
“Dude…bad decision. Don’t mention her bike” Jack chuckled before
moving to the other end of the bar to serve the other punters.
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